the pretty things
that had been said to her.

"Only Don Luis was not there at all, Antonia. There is always something
wanting," and her voice fell with those sad inflections that are often
only the very excess of delight.

The Senora looked sharply at her. "Don Luis was not desirable. He was
better away--much better!"

"But why?"

"Because, Antonia, he is suspected. There is an American called Houston.
Don Luis met him in Nacogdoches. He has given his soul to him, I think.
He would have fought Morello about him, if the captain could have drawn
his sword in such a quarrel. I should not have known about the affair
had not Senora Valdez told me. Your father says nothing against the
Americans."

"Perhaps, then, he knows nothing against them."

"You will excuse me, Antonia; not only the living but the dead must have
heard of their wickedness. They are a nation of ingrates. Ingrates are
cowards. It was these words Captain Morello said, when Don Luis drew his
sword, made a circle with its point and stood it upright in the centre.
It was a challenge to the whole garrigon, and about this fellow Houston,
whom he calls his friend! Holy Virgin preserve us from such Mexicans!"

"It is easier to talk than to fight. Morello's tongue is sharper than
his sword."

"Captain Morello was placing his sword beside that of Don Luis, when the
Commandant interfered. He would not permit his officers to fight in such
a quarrel. 'Santo Dios!' he said, 'you shall all have your opportunity
very soon, gentlemen.' Just reflect upon the folly of a boy like Don
Luis, challenging a soldier like Morello!"

"He was in no danger, mother," said Antonia scornfully. "Morello is a
bully, who wears the pavement out with his spurs and sabre. His weapons
are for show. Americans, at least, wear their arms for use, and not for
ornament."

"Listen, Antonia! I will not have them spoken of. They are Jews--or at
least infidels, all of them!--the devil himself is their father--the
bishop, when he was here last confirmation, told me so."

"Mother!"

"At least they are unbaptized Christians, Antonia. If you are not
baptized, the devil sends you to do his work. As for Don Luis, he is a
very Judas! Ah, Maria Santissima! how I do pity his good mother!"

"Poor Don Luis!" said Isabel plaintively.

"He is so handsome, and he sings like a very angel. And he loves my
father; he wanted to be a doctor, so that he could always be with him.
I dare say this man called