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had turned a passive enemy into an active one。
He went； however； without further parley； stopping only to
warn the Senora against the sin 〃of standing with the enemies
of God and the Holy Church；〃 and to order Isabel to recite for
her mother's pardon and comfort a certain number of aves and
paternosters。 Antonia went with him to the door； and ere he
left he blessed her； and said： 〃The Senorita will examine her
soul and see her sin。 Then the ever merciful Church will hear
her confession； and give her the satisfying penance。〃
Antonia bowed in response。 When people are in great domestic
sorrow； self…examination is a superfluous advice。 She
listened a moment to his departing footsteps； shivering as she
stood in the darkness； for a norther had sprung up； and the
cold was severe。 She only glanced into the pleasant parlor
where the table was laid for dinner； and a great fire of cedar
logs was throwing red； dancing lights over the white linen and
the shining silver and glass。 The chairs were placed around
the table； her father's at the head。 It had a forsaken
air that was unendurable。
The dinner hour was now long past。 It would be folly to
attempt the meal。 How could she and Isabel sit down alone and
eat； and her father in prison； and her mother frantic with a
loss which she was warned it was sinful to mourn over。
Antonia had a soul made for extremities and not afraid to face
them； but invisible hands controlled her。 What could a woman
do； whom society had forbidden to do anything； but endure the
pangs of patience？
The Senora could offer no suggestions。 She was not indeed in
a mood to think of her resources。 A spiritual dread was upon
her。 And with this mingled an intense sense of personal wrong
from her husband。 〃Had she not begged him to be passive？ And
he had put an old rifle before her and her daughters！ It was
all that Senor Houston's doing。 She had an assurance of
that。〃 She invoked a thousand maledictions on him。 She
recalled； with passionate reproaches； Jack's infidelity to her
and his God and his country。 Her anger passed from one
subject to another constantly； finding in all； even in
the lukewarmness of Antonia and Isabel； and in their affection
for lovers； who were also rebels； an accumulating reason for
a stupendous reproach against herself； her husband； her
children； and her unhappy fate。 Her whole nature was in
revoltin that complete mental and moral anarchy from which
springs tragedy and murder。
Isabel wept so violently that she angered still further the
tearless suffering of her mother。 〃God and the saints！〃 she
cried。 〃What are you weeping for？ Will tears do any good？
Do I weep？ God has forbidden me to weep for the wicked。 Yet
how I suffer！ Mary； mother of sorrows； pity me！〃
She sent Isabel away。 Her sobs were not to be borne。 And
very soon she felt Antonia's white face and silent
companionship to be just as unendurable。 She would be alone。
Not even Rachela would she have near her。 She put out all the
lights but the taper above a large crucifix； and at its foot
she sat down in tearless abandon； alone with her reproaches
and her remorse。
Antonia watched with her mother； though shut out from her
presence。 She feared for a state of mind so barren of
affection； so unsoftened by tears。 Besides； it was the climax
of a condition which had continued ever since she had sent her
boy away without a word of love。 In the dim corridor outside
she sat still； listening for any noise or movement which might
demand help or sympathy。 It was not nine o'clock； but the
time lengthened itself out beyond endurance。 Even yet she had
hope of some word from her father。 Surely； they would let him
send some word to them！
She heard the murmur of voices downstairs； and she thought
angrily of Rachela； and Molly； and Manuel； 〃making a little
confidence together〃 over their trouble； and spicing their
evening gossip with the strange thing that had happened to the
Senor Doctor。 She knew that Rachela and Manuel would call him
heretic and Americano； and； by authority of these two words；
accuse him of every crime。
Thinking with a swelling heart of these things； she heard the
door open； and a step slowly and heavily ascend the stairs。
Ere she had time to wonder at it； her father came in sight。
There was a shocking change in his air and appearance； but as
he was evidently going to her mother's room； she shrank
back and sat motionless so as not to attract his attention。
Then she went to the parlor； and had the fire renewed and food
put upon the table。 She was sure that he would need it； and
she believed he would be glad to talk over with her the events
of the afternoon。
The Senora was still sitting at the foot of the crucifix when
her husband opened the door。 She had not been able to pray；
ave and paternoster alike had failed her。 Her rebellious
grief filled every corner of her heart。 She understood that
some one had entered the room； and she thought of Rachela； but
she found a kind of comfort in the dull stupor of grief she
was indulging； and she would not break its spell by lifting
her head。
〃Maria。〃
She rose up quickly and stood gazing at him。
She did not shriek or exclaim； her surprise controlled her。
And also her terror； for his face was white as death； and had
an expression of angry despair that terrified her。
〃Roberto！ Roberto！ Mi Roberto！ How you have tortured me！ I
have nearly died！ Fray Ignatius said you had been sent
to prison。〃
She spoke as calmly as a frightened child； sad and hesitating。
If he had taken her in his arms she would have sobbed her
grief away there。
But Robert Worth was at that hour possessed by two master
passions； tyrannical and insatiablethey would take notice of
nothing that did not minister to them。
〃Maria； they have taken my arms from me。 Cowards！ Cowards！
Miserable cowards！ I refused to give them up！ They held my
hands and robbed merobbed me of my manhood and honor！ I
begged them to shoot me ere they did it； and they spoke
courteously and regretted this； and hoped that； till I felt
that it would be a joy to strangle them。〃
〃Roberto！ Mi Roberto！ You have me！〃
〃I want my rifle and all it represents。 I want myself back
again。 Maria； Maria； until then； I am not worthy to be any
good woman's husband！〃
〃Roberto； dearest！ It is not your fault。〃
〃It is my fault。 I have waited too long。 My sons showed me
my dutymy soul urged me to do it。 I deserve the shame；
but I will wipe it out with crimson blood。〃
The Senora stood speechless； wringing her hands。 Her own
passion was puny beside the sternness； the reality； and the
intensity of the quiet rage before her。 She was completely
mastered by it。 She forgot all but the evident agony she
could neither mistake nor console。
〃I have come to say ‘farewell；' Maria。 We have been very
happy togetherMariaour childrendearest〃
〃Oh； Roberto！ My husband！ My soul！ My life！ Leave me not。〃
〃I am going for my arms。 I will take them a hundredfold from
those who have robbed me。 I swear I will！〃
〃You do not love me。 What are these Americans to you？ I am
you