hung in a tangled mass over his forehead, but he carried himself as erect
as ever. His body did not move, but his eyes wandered from one corner of
the tent to another, and the girl crossed herself and held up two fingers
towards him, for his dark glance fell upon her, as he at last exclaimed,
in a hollow tone:

"Where is the mistress?"

"Gone, I could not help it" replied the girl.

"Where?"

"To the Eletto, to Navarrete."

"When?"

"He came and took her and the child, directly after you had left the
camp."

"And she has not returned?"

"She has just sent a roast chicken, which I was to keep for you when you
came home. There it is." Zorrillo laughed. Then he turned to his
companions, saying:

"I thank you. You have now.... Is she still with the Eletto?"

"Why, of course."

"And who--who saw her the night before the election--let me sit down--who