"Look well at that man, Isidro," he whispered, "and tell me if such a man rode here to Mesa Blanca with General Rotil."
"No such man was here, señor, but this man was foreman at Soledad before the Deliverer came over the eastern range to Mesa Blanca. Also the general and Don José Perez are known as enemies;--the friend of one cannot be the friend of another."
"True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to understand the trap set. Call your wife and learn if I can see the Doña Jocasta."
Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the arm.
"She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. She watches us in fear, and cannot believe that the door is open for her."
"If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for her, _pronto_," he stated, and they entered the patio.
"It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does not speak. Valencia weeps to look at her."
"Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?"
"No, it is another reason," stated the girl stolidly. "She is a caged humming bird, and her wings have broken."
Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped guest, for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in her the living representation of old biblical saints.
The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish drapery over her head, a black mantilla which, at sound of a man's step, she hurriedly drew across the lower part of her face. Her left arm and shoulder was bare, and Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen for bandage, but the eyes of Doña Jocasta were turned half shrinking, half appraising to the strange Americano. It was plain to her that conquering men were merely the owners of women.
"It is good you come, señor," said Valencia. "Here is a wound and the bullet under the skin. I have waited for Isidro to help but he is slow on the way."
"He is busy otherwise, but I will call him unless my own help will serve here. That is for the señora to say."
The eyes of the girl,--she was not more,--never left his face, and above the lace scarf she peered at him as through a mask.
"It is you who sent messenger to save an unhappy one you did not know? You are the Americano of the letter?"
"At your service, señora. May that service begin now?"
"It began when that letter was written, and this room made ready," she said. "And if you can find the bullet it will end the unhappiness of this good woman. She weeps for the little bit of lead. It should have struck a heart instead of a shoulder."