him--since he had footed the bills for them. . . . "Through my sin,
through my very great sin!"

But in spite of his self-reproach, Desnoyers had to work very hard
to get any kind of a settlement out of the old penitent. Whenever he
suggested legalizing the situation and making the necessary arrangements
for their marriage, the old tyrant would not let him go on. "Do what you
think best, but don't say anything to me about it."

Several months passed by. One day the Frenchman approached him with a
certain air of mystery. "Elena has a son and has named him 'Julio' after
you."

"And you, you great useless hulk," stormed the ranchman, "and that weak
cow of a wife of yours, you dare to live tranquilly on without giving
me a grandson! . . . Ah, Frenchy, that is why the Germans will finally
overwhelm you. You see it, right here. That bandit has a son, while you,
after four years of marriage . . . nothing. I want a grandson!--do you
understand THAT?"

And in order to console himself for this lack of little ones around his
own hearth, he betook himself to the ranch of his overseer, Celedonio,
where a band of little half-breeds gathered tremblingly and hopefully
about him.

Suddenly China died. The poor Misia Petrona passed away as discreetly as
she had lived, trying even in her last hours to avoid all annoyance for
her husband, asking his pardon with an imploring look for any trouble
which her death might cause him. Elena came to the ranch in order to see
her mother's body for the last time, and Desnoyers who for more than