what
spiritual servitude exacted. In a moment of time she had comprehended
her danger, and her heart sank and sickened with a genuine physical
terror.

The cold was still severe, and no one answered her call for wood. Isabel
crouched, white and shivering, over the dying embers, and it was she who
first uttered the fear Antonia had refused to admit to herself--"Suppose
the servants are forbidden to wait upon us!"

"I will bring wood myself, dearest." She was greatly comforted by
the word "us." She could almost have wept for joy of the sympathy it
included. For thought is rapid in such crucial moments, and she had
decided that even flight with her would be a kinder fate for Isabel,
than the cruel tender mercies of the Sisters and the convent.

They could not talk much. The thought of their mother's anguish, and
of the separation put between them and their household, shocked and
terrified them. Vainly they called for fuel. At dinner time no table was
laid, and no preparations made for the meal. Then Antonia went into the
kitchen. She took with her food, and cooked it. She brought wood into
the parlor, and made up the fire. Fortunately, her northern education
had given her plenty of resources for such emergencies. Two or three
savory dishes were soon ready, and the small table set upon a warm,
bright hearth.

The Senora had evidently not been included in the ban, for Rachela
attended with ostentatious care to her comfort; but Isabel had rolled
herself up in a wadded silk coverlet and gone to sleep. Antonia awakened
her with a kiss. "Come, queridita, and get your dinner."

"But is it possible? I thought Fray Ignatius had forbidden it."

"He cannot forbid me to wait upon you, my darling one. And he cannot
turn the flour into dust, and the meat into stone. There is a good
dinner ready; and you are hungry, no doubt."

"For three hours I have been faint. Ah! you have made me a custard also!
You are a very comforter."

But the girl was still and sad, and Antonia was hard pressed to find
any real comfort for her. For she knew that their only hope lay in the
immediate attack of the American force, and its success; and she did not
think it wise to hide from her sister the alternatives that lay before
them if the Americans failed.

"I am afraid," said Isabel; "and so unhappy. A very sad business is
life. I cannot think how any one can care to live."

"Remember Luis, and our father, and Jack, and Thomas, and our dear
mot