Part 10

"She does, nevertheless," laughed Chiquita; and brushing back the roses in her basket with a sweep of the hand, she disclosed the eggs beneath. "Look," she continued. "Padre Antonio's gift! Are they not beautiful--just fresh from the hens! You had better have some for your breakfast, Señor," she added.

"By all the Saints in the calendar, they are pearls, every one of them!" returned Dick enthusiastically, eyeing the contents of the basket. "Thrice blessed be thy hens, Señorita! We'll have eggs with our chocolate out here on the veranda!"

"I thought so!" came a sharp voice from the other side of the doorway just behind them, "as usual, talking with the Señores!" and Señora Fernandez, with flushed cheeks and a spiteful gleam in her eyes which she took no pains to conceal, stepped from the door into the light.

"Buenas dias, Doña Fernandez!" said Chiquita, unabashed by the Señora's sudden appearance and onslaught, "may the day bring you many blessings! Look! Padre Antonio's greetings," and she held up the basket for the Señora's benefit. Then, with a subtle sarcasm which she knew would avenge her amply for the Señora's unprovoked attack, she said: "I stopped to inquire what the Señores would have for their breakfast. They say they will have eggs with their chocolate."

"Indeed! Eggs and chocolate--chocolate and eggs!" angrily retorted the Señora, "just as though one didn't know what everybody takes for breakfast!" But without waiting for her to finish, Chiquita vanished through the doorway with her basket; her low laughter, followed by a snatch of song just audible from within, serving to increase the Señora's irritation.

"Holy God! I sometimes think the devil is inside of that girl!" she exclaimed, vexed beyond measure.

"Ah, but what a sweet one!" laughed Dick. "I wouldn't mind being possessed of the same myself."

"Bah, Señor! you talk like a fool!" she retorted. "I pray you, do not think too poorly of us, Señor Capitan," she continued in an apologetic tone, turning to Captain Forest. "I assure you, all the women in Santa Fé are not so bold as the Señorita Chiquita."

"No, most of them are a tame lot!" broke in Dick, secretly enjoying the Señora's discomfiture.

"Caramba! your speech grows more foolish as you talk, Señor!" returned the Señora in a tone of intense disgust. "I see, you too have fallen under her spell. They say she has the evil-eye, Señor Capitan," she went on, addressing the Captain again.

"Evil-eye--ha, ha! What next?" laughed Dick.

"Blood of the Saints! I'll no longer waste my time with you, Señor!" and with an angry swish of her skirt, she turned and disappeared in the house.

VII

"What does she mean by the evil-eye?" asked the Captain after the sounds of the Señora's footsteps had died away in the corridor within the house.

"Nothing--it's only jealousy. Chiquita being the acknowledged belle of the town, most of the other women, especially those of pure Spanish blood, are jealous as cats of her, and seldom miss an opportunity of saying spiteful things about her. That's why her dancing has caused such a row. And yet," he continued, seating himself on the veranda rail, his back against one of its wooden pillars, "I can't see why. It's race hatred of course, but there's really no reason for it because she's the best educated woman between here and the City of Mexico. Padre Antonio saw to it that she received the best Mexico had to give. Why, she speaks French and English almost as well as she does Spanish. If she were a mestiza or half-caste, things would go hard with her, but being a full-blood, she's easily a match for them all."

"She's certainly an unusual woman," said the Captain; "one you would hardly expect to find in this out-of-the-way place."

"Oh, that's one of the many paradoxes in life," answered Dick. "I've met many a remarkable personality in the most remote regions during my wanderings. But," he continued, abruptly changing the topic of conversation, "what brings you back here? I always felt you would come back to this country again. Civilization isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?"

"It was a hard wrench just the same," returned the Captain, "especially when one--"

"Did you hear that?" suddenly interrupted Dick, rising from his seat on the veranda rail and gazing intently down the highroad. The sounds of a vehicle and hoof-beats on the hard road, mingled with the shouts of a driver, the crack of a whip and tinkle of bells, were distinctly heard, and presently, a heavy lumbering stagecoach enveloped in a cloud of white dust and drawn by four mules was seen coming down the road at full gallop.

The sounds had also aroused the household. Señora Fernandez at the head of a troop of peons and women rushed out of the house, talking and gesticulating excitedly as they swarmed over the veranda and down the steps in front of the Posada, for all the world like a distracted colony of ants.

"Dios! what can have happened to the stage that it comes in the morning instead of the evening?" she cried breathlessly, quite forgetting her recent ill humor in the excitement.

"There's no stage at this hour," said Dick.

"But there it comes!" answered the Captain.

"It's not the regular stage," returned Dick; "a party of tourists, most likely! I see a lot of women!" he added, as the occupants on the outside of the stage came more clearly into view.

Suddenly Captain Forest started, gasped, and gripped one of the veranda pillars with his right hand. "No--it can't be!" he muttered, passing his free hand across his eyes as though to dispel an illusion.

"What's the matter, Jack?" asked Dick.

"God in heaven! what can have brought them here?" he cried, ignoring his companion's question and leaning out over the veranda rail, his gaze riveted on the stage.

"Friends of yours?" asked Dick again.