?" also requests Ludwig, the son, who is two years older
than his sister.

"No, neither of you," rejoins the father. "Ludwig, you would not leave
your mother alone? Besides, remember I have set both you and Cypriano a
lesson, which you must learn off to-day. There is nothing to fear,
_querida_!" he adds, addressing himself to his wife. "We are not now in
Paraguay, but a country where our old Friend Francia and his satellites
dare not intrude on us. Besides, I cannot spare the good Caspar from
some work I have given him to do. Bah! 'Tis only a bit of a morning's
trot there and back; and if I find there's nothing wrong, we'll be home
again in little ever a couple of hours. So _adios! Vamos_, Francesca!"

With a wave of his hand he moves off, Francesca giving her tiny roadster
a gentle touch of the whip, and trotting by his side.

The other three, left standing in the verandah, with their eyes follow
the departing equestrians, the countenance of each exhibiting an
expression that betrays different emotions in their minds, these
differing both as to the matter of thought and the degree of intensity.
Ludwig simply looks a little annoyed at having to stay at home when he
wanted to go abroad, but without any great feeling of disappointment;
whereas Cypriano evidently suffers chagrin, so much that he is not
likely to profit by the appointed lesson. With the Senora herself it is
neither disappointment nor chagrin, but a positive and keen
apprehension. A daughter of Paraguay, brought up to believe its ruler
all powerful over the earth, she can hardly realise the idea of there
being a spot where the hand of "El Supremo" cannot reach and punish
those who have thwarted his wishes or caprices. Many the tale has she
heard whispered in her ear, from the cradle upwards, telling of the
weird power of this wicked despot, and the remorseless manner in which
he has often wielded it. Even after their escape into the chaco, where,
under the protection of the Tovas chief, they might laugh his enmity to
scorn, she has never felt the confidence of complete security. And now,
that an uncertainty has arisen as to what has befallen Naraguana and his
people, her fears became redoubled and intensified. Standing in the
trellissed verandah, her eyes fixed upon the departing forms of her
husband and daughter, she has a heaviness at the heart, a presentiment
of some impending danger, which seems so near and dreadful as to cause
shivering