that."

"Why?"

"Why! because it appears the old witch is still alive! and, moreover, he
will hang around here so long as he has any hopes of recovering the
sister."

"Ha! you are right; he will do so. He will never leave me till she--"

"So much the better; we shall have all the finer opportunity of laying
hands on him, which, believe me, my dear colonel, will be no easy
matter. The fellow will be watchful as a wolf, and on that superb horse
of his can escape from our whole troop. We'll have to capture him by
some stratagem."

"Can you think of none?"

"I have been thinking of one."

"What?"

"Why, it is simply this--in the first place, for the reasons I have
given, the fellow will hang around the settlement. He may visit now and
then the old _hechicera_, but not often. The other would be a better
decoy."

"You mean her?" Vizcarra indicated the direction of the room in which
Rosita was confined.

"I do. He is said to be foolishly fond of this sister. Now, were she
in a place where he could visit her, I'll warrant he would come there;
and then we could trap him at our pleasure."

"In a place!--where?" eagerly demanded Vizcarra.

"Why, back to her own neighbourhood. They'll find some residence. If
you will consent to let her go for a while, you can easily recover
her--_the more easily when we have settled with him_!"

"Consent, Roblado!--it is the very thing I desire above all things. My
mind will not be easy while she is here. We are both in danger if such
a report should get in circulation. If it should reach certain ears, we
are ruined--are we not?"

"Why, _now_ there is some truth in what you say, Garcia's death must be
reported, and the cause will be inquired into. We must have _our_ story
as plausible as it can be made. There must be no colour of a
suspicion--no rumour! It will be well to get her off our hands for the
present."

"But how--that it is that troubles me--how, without increasing the
chances of suspicion? If we send her home, how is it to be explained?
That would not be the act of _Indians_? You said you had some plan?"

"I _think_ I have. But first tell me, colonel, what did you mean by
saying she was _mad_?"

"That she was so; is so still,--so says Jose,--within the hour,
muttering strange incongruities--knows not what is said to her. I tell
you, Roblado, it terrified _me_."

"You are sure she knows not what is said to her?"

"Sure of it."

"So much the