-eye?" asked the Captain after the sounds
of the Senora's footsteps had died away in the corridor within the
house.

"Nothing--it's only jealousy. Chiquita being the acknowledged belle of
the town, most of the other women, especially those of pure Spanish
blood, are jealous as cats of her, and seldom miss an opportunity of
saying spiteful things about her. That's why her dancing has caused such
a row. And yet," he continued, seating himself on the veranda rail, his
back against one of its wooden pillars, "I can't see why. It's race
hatred of course, but there's really no reason for it because she's the
best educated woman between here and the City of Mexico. Padre Antonio
saw to it that she received the best Mexico had to give. Why, she speaks
French and English almost as well as she does Spanish. If she were a
_mestiza_ or half-caste, things would go hard with her, but being a
full-blood, she's easily a match for them all."

"She's certainly an unusual woman," said the Captain; "one you would
hardly expect to find in this out-of-the-way place."

"Oh, that's one of the many paradoxes in life," answered Dick. "I've met
many a remarkable personality in the most remote regions during my
wanderings. But," he continued, abruptly changing the topic of
conversation, "what brings you back here? I always felt you would come
back to this country again. Civilization isn't all it's cracked up to
be, is it?"

"It was a hard wrench just the same," returned the Captain, "especially
when one--"

"Did you hear that?" suddenly interrupted Dick, rising from his seat on
the veranda rail and gazing intently down the highroad. The sounds of a
vehicle and hoof-beats on the hard road, mingled with the shouts of a
driver, the crack of a whip and tinkle of bells, were distinctly heard,
and presently, a heavy lumbering stagecoach enveloped in a cloud of
white dust and drawn by four mules was seen coming down the road at full
gallop.

The sounds had also aroused the household. Senora Fernandez at the head
of a troop of _peons_ and women rushed out of the house, talking and
gesticulating excitedly as they swarmed over the veranda and down the
steps in front of the _Posada_, for all the world like a distracted
colony of ants.

"_Dios!_ what can have happened to the stage that it comes in the
morning instead of the evening?" she cried breathlessly, quite
forgetting her recent ill humor in the excitement.

"There's no stage at this hour," s