is no greater in the world; but she must be ruled with an iron
hand. Soldiers make rulers. I am still a young man, and--at present
there is but one other capable of this gigantic task. For the time
being, therefore, I permit myself to serve under him, and--I salute
him. Viva Potosi!" The speaker lifted his glass and drank. "Madero was
a wicked believer in spells and charms; he talked with the dead. He,
and those who came after him, fired the peons to revolt and despoiled
our country, leaving her prone and bleeding. We of the Cientificos have
set ourselves to stop her wounds and to nourish her to life again. We
shall drive all traitors into the sea and feed them to the sharks. We
shall destroy them all, and Mexico shall have peace. But I am not a
bloodthirsty man. No, I am a poet and a lover at heart. As great a
patriot as I am, I could be faithless to my country for one smile from
the woman I adore."

Alaire did not color under the ardent glance that went with this
declaration. She deliberately changed the subject.

"This morning while we were in the office of the jeje de armas," she
said, "I saw a poor woman with a baby--she was scarcely more than a
child herself--whose husband is in prison. She told me how she had come
all the way from the country and is living with friends, just to be
near him. Every day she goes to the carcel, but is denied admission,
and every day she comes to plead with the jefe de armas for her
husband's life. But he will not see her, and the soldiers only laugh at
her tears."

"A common story! These women and their babies are very annoying,"
observed the general.

"She says that her husband is to be shot."

"Very likely! Our prisons are full. Doubtless he is a bad man."

"Can't you do something?"

"Eh?" Longorio lifted his brows in the frankest inquiry.

"That poor girl with her little, bare, brown-eyed baby was pitiful."
Alaire leaned forward with an earnest appeal in her face, and her host
smiled.

"So? That is how it is, eh? What is her name?"

"Inez Garcia. The husband's name is Juan."

"Of course. These peladors are all Juans. You would like to appear as
an angel of mercy, eh? Your heart is touched?"

"Deeply."

"Bastante! There is no more to be said." Longorio rose and went into
the next room where were certain members of his staff. After a time he
returned with a paper in his hand, and this he laid before Alaire. It
was an order for the release of Juan Garcia. "The salvo