"Oh, anything," said Derrick, with a smile. "Tramps can't be choosers. You have a ranch here, I suppose?" The other Englishman nodded. "Yes, we're on Donna Elvira's ranch, three miles out." He jerked his head in a westerly direction, then looked round at his mates. "Do you think there's any room for him?" "Might be," replied one. "He'd better go up and see Don Jose." The English cowboy translated this for Derrick, adding:-- "That's the overseer. Better go up and see him when you've rested and eaten. My name's Tom Dalton; they call me Tomas, of course. What's yours, and what's your county?" Derrick said, "Sydney Green," and added, "London." "Big county that," said Tom, with a grin. "Know anything about cattle? Not much use your going to Don Jose if you don't." "I've worked with them on the road a bit," replied Derrick; "and I'm accustomed to horses." The young man thought that Derrick might stand a chance, and again advised him to eat and rest; and, having proffered more wine, the cowboys presently moved off and left him alone. He engaged a bed of the landlord, got something to eat, and was dropping off to sleep in the moist, warm evening air, when he saw a cloud of dust rising down the road, and presently a carriage, drawn by a pair of magnificent horses, came tearing towards him. At the sound of the carriage the landlord hurried out, and stood beside Derrick, waitingly. The vehicle was of Spanish build, but had a touch of something English about it, and seated in it was an elderly lady, dressed in the local fashion. There was something in her appearance so arresting that Derrick woke up fully and leant forward to peer at her; as she came nearer he saw that she was not so old as he had thought; for though her hair was snow-white, her dark eyes were bright and lustrous; she was very pale and there were deep lines on her face, which must, in her youth, have been exceedingly beautiful, and was even now handsome, though thin and careworn. She was leaning back, almost reclining, with an air at once graceful and haughty; it was evident to Derrick that she was a personage of some importance, and he was not surprised to see the landlord whip off his hat and bow low, with a gesture of extreme deference. "Who is that?" asked Derrick, with an interest and curiosity which surprised himself. The landlord lifted his swarthy brows and, extending his huge hands with an expression of pitying surprise, demanded of Derrick where he had come from that he did not know Donna Elvira. "The lady of the ranch?" said Derrick, excusing his deplorable ignorance by explaining, as well as he could, that he had come from a distance.