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Senores, we are no match for women. But I could hardly
believe my ears when she began her tale. Providence, she concluded,
seemed to have preserved the life of that wronged soldier, who now
trusted to my honour as a caballero and to my compassion for his
sufferings.
"'Wronged man,' I observed, coldly. 'Well, I think so, too: and you have
been harbouring an enemy of your cause.'
"'He was a poor Christian crying for help at our door in the name of
God, senor,' she answered, simply.
"I began to admire her. 'Where is he now?' I asked, stiffly.
"But she would not answer that question. With extreme cunning, and an
almost fiendish delicacy, she managed to remind me of my failure in
saving the lives of the prisoners in the guardroom, without wounding
my pride. She knew, of course, the whole story. Gaspar Ruiz, she said,
entreated me to procure for him a safe-conduct from General San
Martin himself. He had an important communication to make to the
commander-in-chief.
"Por Dios, senores, she made me swallow all that, pretending to be only
the mouthpiece of that poor man.


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