d of
suffering. Basilio didn't bring me a single cuarto. Search the whole
house and if you find even a real, do with us what you will. Not all
of us poor folks are thieves!"

"Well then," ordered the soldier slowly, as he fixed his gaze on
Sisa's eyes, "come with us. Your sons will show up and try to get
rid of the money they stole. Come on!"

"I--go with you?" murmured the woman, as she stepped backward and
gazed fearfully at their uniforms. "And why not?"

"Oh, have pity on me!" she begged, almost on her knees. "I'm very
poor, so I've neither gold nor jewels to offer you. The only thing
I had you've already taken, and that is the hen which I was thinking
of selling. Take everything that you find in the house, but leave me
here in peace, leave me here to die!"

"Go ahead! You're got to go, and if you don't move along willingly,
we'll tie you."

Sisa broke out into bitter weeping, but those men were inflexible. "At
least, let me go ahead of you some distance," she begged, when she
felt them take hold of her brutally and push her along.

The soldiers seemed to be somewhat affected and, after whispering
apart, one of them said: "All right, since from here until we get into
the town, you might be able to escape, you'll walk between us. Once
there you may walk ahead twenty paces, but take care that you don't
delay and that you don't go into any shop, and don't stop. Go ahead,
quickly!"

Vain were her supplications and arguments, useless her promises. The
soldiers said that they had already compromised themselves by having
conceded too much. Upon finding herself between them she felt as if
she would die of shame. No one indeed was coming along the road, but
how about the air and the light of day? True shame encounters eyes
everywhere. She covered her face with her panuelo and walked along
blindly, weeping in silence at her disgrace. She had felt misery and
knew what it was to be abandoned by every one, even her own husband,
but until now she had considered herself honored and respected: up
to this time she had looked with compassion on those boldly dressed
women whom the town knew as the concubines of the soldiers. Now it
seemed to her that she had fallen even a step lower than they in the
social scale.

The sound of hoofs was heard, proceeding from a small train of men
and women mounted on poor nags, each between two baskets hung over
the back of his mount; it was a party carrying fish to the interior
towns. Som