"I shall never forgive the Commander for ****** the Presidio so attractive to you, dear Miss Keene, that you cannot really find time to see your own countrymen.Though, of course, you're not to blame for not coming to see two frights as we must look--not having been educated to be able to do up our dresses in that faultless style--and perhaps not having the entire control over an establishment like you; yet, I suppose that, even if the Alcalde did give us carte blanche of the laundry HERE, we couldn't do it, unaided even by Mrs.Markham.Yes, dear; you must let me compliment you on your skill, and the way you make things last.As for me and Miss Chubb, we've only found our things fit to be given away to the poor of the Mission.But I suppose even that charity would look as shabby to you as our clothes, in comparison with the really good missionary work you and Mr.Hurlstone--or is it Mr.
Brace?--I always confound your admirers, my dear--are doing now.
At least, so says that good Father Esteban."But with the exception of the Alcalde and Miss Chubb, Mrs.
Brimmer's words fell on unheeding ears, and Miss Keene did not prejudice the triumph of her own superior attractions by seeming to notice Mrs.Brimmer's innuendo.She answered briefly, and entered into lively conversation with Crosby and the Secretary, holding the hand of Dona Isabel in her own, as if to assure her that she was guiltless of any design against her former admirer.This was quite unnecessary, as the gentle Isabel, after bidding Brace, with a rap on the knuckles, to "go and play," contented herself with curling up like a kitten beside Miss Keene, and left that gentleman to wander somewhat aimlessly in the patio.
Nevertheless, Miss Keene, whose eyes and ears were nervously alert, and who had indulged a faint hope of meeting Padre Esteban and hearing news of Hurlstone, glanced from time to time towards the entrance of the patio.A singular presentiment that some outcome of this present visit would determine her relations with Hurlstone had already possessed her.Consequently she was conscious, before it had attracted the attention of the others, of some vague stirring in the plaza beyond.Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard before the gateway.There was a moment's pause of dismounting, a gruff order given in Spanish, and the next moment three strangers entered the patio.
They were dressed in red shirts, their white trousers tucked in high boots, and wore slouched hats.They were so travel-stained, dusty, and unshaven, that their features were barely distinguishable.One, who appeared to be the spokesman of the party, cast a perfunctory glance around the corridor, and, in fluent Spanish, began with the mechanical air of a man repeating some formula,--"We are the bearers of a despatch to the Comandante of Todos Santos from the Governor of Mazatlan.The officer and the escort who came with us are outside the gate.We have been told that the Comandante is in this house.The case is urgent, or we would not intrude"--He was stopped by the voice of Mrs.Markham from the corridor.
"Well, I don't understand Spanish much--I may be a fool, or crazy, or perhaps both--but if that isn't James Markham's VOICE, I'll bet a cooky!"The three strangers turned quickly toward the corridor.The next moment the youngest of their party advanced eagerly towards Miss Keene, who had arisen with a half frightened joy, and with the cry of "Why, it's Nell!" ran towards her.The third man came slowly forward as Mrs.Brimmer slipped hastily from the hammock and stood erect.
"In the name of goodness, Barbara," said Mr.Brimmer, closing upon her, in a slow, portentous whisper, "where ARE your stockings?"