uaintances, who merely turned inquiring glances upon
her, so that to avoid further mortification she fixed her gaze on
the ground, and yet, strange to say, she stumbled over the stones in
the road! Upon seeing her, people paused for a moment and conversed
among themselves as they gazed at her, all of which she saw and felt
in spite of her downcast eyes.

She heard the shameless tones of a woman who asked from behind at the
top of her voice, "Where did you catch her? And the money?" It was a
woman without a tapis, or tunic, dressed in a green and yellow skirt
and a camisa of blue gauze, easily recognizable from her costume as
a _querida_ of the soldiery. Sisa felt as if she had received a slap
in the face, for that woman had exposed her before the crowd. She
raised her eyes for a moment to get her fill of scorn and hate, but
saw the people far, far away. Yet she felt the chill of their stares
and heard their whispers as she moved over the ground almost without
knowing that she touched it.

"Eh, this way!" a guard called to her. Like an automaton whose
mechanism is breaking, she whirled about rapidly on her heels, then
without seeing or thinking of anything ran to hide herself. She
made out a door where a sentinel stood and tried to enter it, but
a still more imperious voice called her aside. With wavering steps
she sought the direction of that voice, then felt herself pushed
along by the shoulders; she shut her eyes, took a couple of steps,
and lacking further strength, let herself fall to the ground, first
on her knees and then in a sitting posture. Dry and voiceless sobs
shook her frame convulsively.

Now she was in the barracks among the soldiers, women, hogs, and
chickens. Some of the men were sewing at their clothes while their
thighs furnished pillows for their _queridas_, who were reclining
on benches, smoking and gazing wearily at the ceiling. Other women
were helping some of the men clean their ornaments and arms, humming
doubtful songs the while.

"It seems that the chicks have escaped, for you've brought only the
old hen!" commented one woman to the new arrivals,--whether alluding
to Sisa or the still clucking hen is not certain.

"Yes, the hen is always worth more than the chicks," Sisa herself
answered when she observed that the soldiers were silent.

"Where's the sergeant?" asked one of the guards in a disgusted
tone. "Has report been made to the alferez yet?"

A general shrugging of shoulders was