appeared
out of an open doorway. It was a large animal of the mastiff breed, such
as might have been expected to bark and become aggressive to strangers.
But this it did not do; indeed, it ran forward and greeted us
affectionately. We dismounted and knocked at the double door, but no
one answered. Finally we entered, and the truth became clear to us--the
_hacienda_ was deserted. A little burial ground attached to the chapel
told us why, for in it were several freshly-made graves, evidently of
_peons_ or other servants, and in an enclosure, where lay interred
some departed members of the Gomez family, another unsodded mound. We
discovered afterwards that it was that of the Senor Gomez, Emma's uncle
by marriage.

"The footsteps of smallpox," I said, pointing to the graves; "we must go
on."

Emma was too overcome to object, for she believed that it was her aunt
who slept beneath that mound, so once more we mounted the weary mules.
But we did not get far. Within half a mile of the _hacienda_ we were met
by two armed _rurales_, who told us plainly that if we attempted to go
further they would shoot.

Then we understood. We had penetrated a smallpox cordon, and must
stop in it until forty days after the last traces of the disease had
vanished. This, in a wild part of Mexico, where at that time vaccination
was but little practised and medical assistance almost entirely lacking,
would not be until half or more of the unprotected population was dead
and many of the remainder were blinded, deafened or disfigured.

Back we crept to the deserted _hacienda_, and there in this hideous nest
of smallpox we took up our quarters, choosing out of the many in the
great pile sleeping rooms that had evidently not been used for months
or years. Food we did not lack, for sheep and goats were straying about
untended, while in the garden we found fruit and vegetables in plenty,
and in the pantries flour and other stores.

At first Emma was dazed and crushed by fatigue and emotion, but she
recovered her spirits after a night's sleep and on learning from
Antonio, who was told it by some _peon_, that it was not her aunt that
the smallpox had killed, but her uncle by marriage, whom she had never
seen. Having no fear of the disease, indeed, she became quite resigned
and calm, for the strangeness and novelty of the position absorbed
and interested her. Also, to my alarm, it excited her philanthropic
instincts, her great idea being to turn the _h