the hacienda. She was only conscious that as she entered the patio the
dusty solitude that had before filled her with unrest now came to her
like balm. A benumbing peace seemed to fall from the crumbling walls;
the peace of utter seclusion, isolation, oblivion, death! Nevertheless,
an hour later, when the jingle of spurs and bridle were again heard in
the road, she started to her feet with bent brows and a kindling eye,
and confronted Captain Poindexter in the corridor.

"I would not have intruded upon you so soon again," he said gravely,
"but I thought I might perhaps spare you a repetition of the scene
of this morning. Hear me out, please," he added, with a gentle,
half-deprecating gesture, as she lifted the beautiful scorn of her eyes
to his. "I have just heard that your neighbor, Don Jose Santierra, of
Los Gatos, is on his way to this house. He once claimed this land, and
hated your husband, who bought of the rival claimant, whose grant was
confirmed. I tell you this," he added, slightly flushing as Mrs. Tucker
turned impatiently away, "only to show you that legally he has no
rights, and you need not see him unless you choose. I could not stop his
coming without perhaps doing you more harm than good; but when he does
come, my presence under this roof as your legal counsel will enable you
to refer him to me." He stopped. She was pacing the corridor with short,
impatient steps, her arms dropped, and her hands clasped rigidly before
her. "Have I your permission to stay?"

She suddenly stopped in her walk, approached him rapidly, and fixing her
eyes on his, said,--

"Do I know ALL, now--everything?"

He could only reply that she had not yet told him what she had heard.