"But there are other men--men who know the family better."
"Not one would be so apt to note the points we need. The family is square, but of Cousin Ana there have been some curious things said. She is the one of the lot who openly claims El Capitan as cousin. That's all we really know, but keep your eyes open."
The sheriff handed it to him and looked at him curiously as he half turned away to read it, and his eyes sought out the one statement: "I think myself she does not want to live any more, and no medicine cures that. Maybe you cannot cure it either, but it is your place to be here if she dies."
He pulled his hat low over his eyes and gathered up the reins.
"All right," he said, briefly. "I will go. Adios!"
A little later, and only a cloud of dust marked the way in the south that he had gone; and the mist in his eyes, hidden so well from the sheriff, was dashed away by his hand, but came back again and again.
"It is your place to be here if she dies," he repeated, grimly,--"my Doña Espiritu--my beloved! The message was written to him, but fate sent it first to me, and I--I will be with you to-night. You will not be again alone with the heart-break."
Toward evening Raquel grew more quiet, and Ana, seeing that the fever was abating, gave herself much blame for sending in such haste for Rafael; and what she had written to him only the good saints could tell, for she had been so frightened she had possibly told him unpleasant things!
However, all things could be endured if only Raquel would open her eyes in reason once more, and lift the load of self-blame from the heart of Ana.
Not only the young girls, but the mistress as well, kept a respectful distance from the room where Raquel lay, adjoining the hall. Her moans and strange words had filled them with dread, but no more so than had the grovelling fear of the old Indian woman. All day she had crouched at the door like a patient animal, waiting the end. Sometimes she muttered to herself in queer Indian words, sometimes she crept to the couch of Doña Raquel for a little while, and then back again to the door, always mumbling or praying, and always insisting that the mother of Raquel had come from the grave to tell things, and that the last of the kings was gone now for always!