I now had an opportunity to notice my entertainers. The man was a
strongly built, good-looking, middle-aged Mexican; the wife (as I took
her to be) placid-looking, kindly-featured, and of the national
middle-aged stoutness. The two children were slender, attractive girls,
verging on the early womanhood of their race. I think they were twins.
This, I supposed, comprised the household, until, my glance following
the wife as she went to the stove, I saw another person. A man,
apparently deformed, sat by the fire, bent forward, his hands resting on
a stick. But doubled over as he was, his eyes, black and piercing,
followed every movement made by any of us. My host, by whom I sat, said
in a low voice, "He is my brother, senor: he is very ill." I was on the
point of making some remark of condolence when he added, "He cannot
speak, senor: he is dumb." Feeling that it would be best not to refer to
the matter, and to turn the conversation, I inquired as to the road I
had missed, and whether I could get through to the coast without
returning. This I learned I could do, my host promising to put me in the
way in the morning.

Just as supper, which proved to be a cheerful meal, was over, the
invalid in the corner, rapping with his cane on the floor, gave notice
that he needed attention. Carlota went quickly to him and helped him to
rise, and then led him, slowly and with no little trouble, into an
adjoining room. As he shuffled past where I sat, my eye caught the
glitter of some object of metal that swung by a cord from his neck, in
the fashion of a medal. This I later decided it to be, when I noticed
what seemed to be an exactly similar object on a little shelf or
bracket, fixed to the wall, on which stood a small figure of the Virgin.
The woman now rising to clear the table, I rose also, and, thanking my
kind entertainers for their hospitality, asked what I owed them, saying