oblong shape--not like a letter, but this--"

Here a piece of paper, similarly put up, was held out for the inspection
of the girl.

"Have you seen anything of it?"

"No, Senorita," was the prompt and ready answer.

"Perhaps you may have swept it out, or thrown it into the fire? It
looked insignificant, and, indeed, was not of much importance, but there
were some patterns upon it I wished to copy. Do you think it has been
destroyed?"

"I know not that, Senorita. I know that _I_ did not destroy it. I
neither swept it out nor threw it into the fire. I should not do that
with any paper, as I cannot read myself, and might destroy something
that was valuable."

Whatever truth there was in the last part of her harangue, the mestiza
knew that its earlier declarations were true enough. She had not
destroyed it, either by sweeping out or burning.

Her answer was delivered with an ingenuous _naivete_, accompanied with a
slight accent of anger, as though she was not over-pleased at being
suspected of negligence.

Whether her mistress noticed the latter did not appear from her answer,
but she expressed herself satisfied.

"It is of no consequence, then," said she. "You may go, Vicenza."

The girl walked off, looking sulky. When her head was just disappearing
below the top of the escalera, her face was towards her mistress, whose
back was now turned to her. A scornful pouting of the lips, accompanied
by a demoniac smile, was visible upon it. It was evident from that look
that she knew something more of the lost paper than was admitted in her
late declaration.

Catalina's gaze was once more turned upon the setting sun. In a few
minutes he would disappear behind the snowy ridge of the mountain. Then
a few hours, and then--moments of bliss!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roblado was seated in his cuartel as before. As before, a tiny knock
sounded upon the door. As before, he called out, "Quien es?" and was
answered, "Yo!" and, as before, he recognised the voice and gave the
order for its owner to enter. As before, it was the soldier Jose, who,
in a cringing voice and with a cringing salute, approached his officer.

"Well, Jose, what news?"

"Only this," replied the soldier, holding out a slip of paper folded
into an oblong shape.

"What is it?" demanded Roblado. "Who is it from?" in the same breath.

"The captain will understand it better than I can, as I