Rosita asked herself these questions; then ran into the house and asked her mother. Neither could answer them; and the girl turned to the fence, and again looked through. As she did so she saw one of the soldiers--from his finer dress evidently an officer--separate from the rest, and come galloping towards the house. In a few moments he drew near, and, reining his horse close up to the fence, looked over the tops of the cactus-plants. Rosita could just see his plumed hat, and below it his face, but she knew the face at once. It was that of the officer who on the day of San Juan had ogled her so rudely. She knew he was the Comandante Vizcarra. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. The officer, from his position, had a full view of the girl as she stood in the little enclosure of flowers. She had retreated to the door, and would have gone inside, but she turned to call off Cibolo, a large wolf-dog, who was barking fiercely, and threatening the new-comer. The dog, obedient to her voice, ran back into the house growling, but by no means satisfied. He evidently wanted to try his teeth on the shanks of the stranger's horse. "Thank you, fair Senorita," said the officer. "It is very kind of you to protect me from that fierce brute. I would he were the only clangour I had to fear in this house." "What have you to fear, Senor?" inquired Rosita, with some surprise. "_Your eyes_, sweet girl: more dangerous than the sharp teeth of your dog,--they have already wounded me." "Cavallero," replied Rosita, blushing and averting her face, "you have not come here to jest with a poor girl. May I inquire what is your business?" "Business I have none, lovely Rosita, but to see _you_,--nay, do not leave me!--I _have_ business--that is, I am thirsty, and halted for a drink: you will not refuse me a cup of water, fair Senorita?" These last phrases, broken and hastily delivered, were meant to restrain the girl from cutting short the interview, which she was about to do by entering the house. Vizcarra was not thirsty, neither did he wish for water; but the laws of hospitality would compel the girl to bring it, and the act might further his purposes. She, without replying to his complimentary harangue, stepped into the house, and presently returned with a gourd-shell filled with water. Carrying it to the gate-like opening of the fences, she presented it to him, and stood waiting for the vessel. Vizcarra, to make his request look natural, forced down several gulps of the fluid, and then, throwing away the rest, held out the gourd. The girl stretched forth her hand to receive it, but he still held it fast, gazing intently and rudely upon her. "Lovely senorita," he said, "may I not kiss that pretty hand that has been so kind to me?" "Sir! please return me the cup." "Nay, not till I have paid for my drink. You will accept this?" He dropped a gold onza into the gourd.