atched him very closely lest he should draw a knife.

Presently he said that he would be the judge of time and place and
manner of meeting me, and that I would yet remember Don Rodrigo
Garcia. I did not answer and he walked out of the hall. I drank
several glasses of wine with those who, but a few moments before, were
crying for revenge. I found Chico near me, and could hardly refrain
from laughing when I discovered that he had armed himself before
leaving Arequipa with a great navy revolver he found in my room. I am
satisfied had an attack been made on us, Chico would have done his
part, provided he had found a way to use the revolver. I am satisfied
he never saw one before he came to Arequipa.

I told him to get the horses ready and my friends remained near to
prevent any treachery. However, we were not molested on the way home.
Felicita begged me to watch Don Rodrigo. "I know," she said, "that
man's nature. He will watch you always, and while he will not attack
you alone, he will pay others to inflict some injury on you."

Don Julian was waiting and had hot cocoa ready for us. We both
concluded that we would better tell him what had happened lest he hear
a wrong version from others. They were determined that I should spend
the remainder of the night in their house, but I concluded it would
appear cowardly. So, I bade them good night and, with Chico following,
perfectly happy over the few dollars I had given him, I reached home
in safety.

I thought much about the affair at Tiravaya and determined to watch
Don Rodrigo closely. A week later Don Julian informed me he was going
to Aacna on business. He would be gone several days, but Felicita
would stay here. Fatal mistake.

XII.

COWARDLY ACT OF A VILLAIN.

"Don Juan! Ah, Don Juan! Something dreadful! Felicita!" cried Chico as
he burst into my room breathless near midnight.

"What is it?" I demanded, "quick, I say," but he could only gasp
"Felicita!"

I hurried to the stable and saddled my horse, Chico following. We
rode with all haste to the home of Don Julian. Everything was in
uproar. The Indian servants moaned and cried, and pointed in the
direction of the road leading to the cemetery. Thither I rode, fast
as my horse could run. It was a lonely road, with few houses by the
wayside and those were mostly Indian huts. It was nearly one
o'clock in the morning, no one to be seen--on and on I went. I could
see a dark outline of what I thought must be a