But that same night he picked two for their reputation of repeating all they knew, and took them into his own rooms and told his story to them. And he met once again with such success that when Landor rode into the post the next day at about guard-mounting, three officers, meeting him, raised their caps and passed on. It struck even through Landor's pain-blurred brain that it was odd. But the few faculties he could command still were all engaged in keeping himself in the saddle until he could reach his own house, where Ellton and Felipa were waiting to get him to his room. He went upon the sick report at once, and for three days thereafter raved of crucified women with fair hair, of children lying dead in the cañon, of the holes in his boot soles, and a missing aparejo, also of certain cursed citizens, and the bad quality of the canned butter. Then he began to come to himself and to listen to all that Felipa had to tell him of the many things she had not put in her short and labored letters. He saw that she looked more beautiful and less well than when he had left her. There was a shadow of weariness on her face that gave it a soft wistfulness which was altogether becoming. He supposed it was because she had nursed him untiringly, as she had; but it did not occur to him to thank her, because she had done only what was a wife's duty, only what he would have done for her if the case had been reversed. Toward the end of the day he began to wonder that no one had been to see him, and he spoke of it. "Mr. Ellton was here this morning," Felipa told him, "and he will be in again before retreat." But he was not satisfied. His entry into the post and the cool greeting of the three officers began to come back to him. Felipa could be untruthful with an untroubled soul and countenance to those she disliked. In her inherited code, treachery to an enemy was not only excusable, but right. But not even in order to save her husband worry could she tell him a shadow of an untruth. She did her best, which was far from good, to evade, however. The others would probably come, now that he could see them. But had they come? he insisted. The commandant had sent his orderly with a note. He raised himself from the pillows too abruptly for a very weak man. "What is the matter, Felipa?" he demanded. She told him that she did not know, and tried to coax him back to quietness. "There is something," he insisted, dropping his head down again wearily. "Perhaps there is," she admitted unwillingly. He lay thinking for a while, then had her send the striker for Ellton, who promptly, and awkwardly, replied to the anxious question as to what might be the trouble, that he was not quite sure, but perhaps it had to do with these--"these" being a small roll of newspaper clippings he took from his portfolio.