"They are as good as any watch-dog," said she. "There is no use of thieves coming here."
"I am not a thief," said Agueda. "Can you tell me where is the casa of Gremo, the light-keeper?"
"And where but here in this very spot?" said the piece of parchment, smiling a toothless smile and showing a fine array of gums. "But had you said the casa of Marianna Romando, you would have come nearer the truth."
Agueda had not expected the casa of which Gremo spoke with such pride to look like this, or to belong to some one else.
"Well, then, I have come with a message from your hus--from Gremo."
"The Señorita will get off her horse and come in? What will the Señorita have? Some bread, an egg--a little _ching-ching_?"
The woman smiled pleasantly all the time that she was speaking. Agueda had difficulty in understanding her, for the entire absence of teeth caused her lips to cling together, so that she articulated with difficulty. Still she smiled. Agueda shook her head at the hospitable words.
"I have no time, gracias, Señora. You will see that I have been wet with the showers," she said; "and I have been delayed twice already. Gremo asked me to tell you that he would come to the Port of Entry too late to return and light the lantern. He asks that you will do it for him."
For answer the woman hurriedly pulled aside the bull's-hide curtain and entered the hut. She reappeared in a moment with an old straw hat on her head. She was lifting up her skirt as she came, and tying round her waist a petticoat of some faded grey stuff. Her face had changed. She smiled no longer.
"It is that fat wife of the inn-keeper at the sign of the 'Navío Mercante.'[4] She it is who takes my Gremo from me." She entered the hut again, and this time reappeared with a coarse pair of native shoes. She seated herself in the doorway, her feet on the damp stone, and busily began to put on the shoes, her tongue keeping her fingers in countenance.
"As if I did not know why my Gremo goes to the Port of Entry! He will sit in the doorway all the day! She will give him of the pink rum! He will spend all the pesos he has made! His plants will wither! Oh, yes, it is that fat Posadera who has got hold of my Gremo."
"_Aaaaiiiieee!_" said the woman, standing in the now laced shoes, arms akimbo. "So this is Don Beltran's little lady?"