conducto which
will permit Juan and his Inez and their Juanito to return to their farm
is being made out," he explained. "Are you satisfied?"

Alaire looked up wonderingly, "I am deeply grateful. You overwhelm me.
You are--a strange man."

"Dear lady, I live to serve you. Your wish is my law. How can I prove
it further?" As he stood beside her chair the fervor of his gaze caused
her eyes to droop and a faint color to come into her cheeks. She felt a
sudden sense of insecurity, for the man was trembling; the evident
desire to touch her, to seize her in his arms, was actually shaking him
like an ague. What next would he do? Of what wild extravagance was he
not capable? He was a queer mixture of fire and ice, of sensuality and
self-restraint. She knew him to be utterly lawless in most things, and
yet toward her he had shown scrupulous restraint. What possibilities
were in a man of his electric temperament, who had the strength to
throttle his fiercest longings?

The strained, throbbing silence that followed Longorio's last words did
more to frighten the woman than had his most ardent advances.

After a time he lifted Alaire's hand; she felt his lips hot and damp
upon her flesh; then he turned and went away with the document.

When he reappeared he was smiling. "These Garcias shall know who
interceded for them. You shall have their thanks," said he.

"No, no! It is enough that the man is free."

"How now?" The general was puzzled. "What satisfaction can there be in
a good deed unless one receives public credit and thanks for it? I am
not like that."

He would have lingered indefinitely over the table, but Alaire soon
rose to go, explaining:

"I must finish my disagreeable task now, so that I can go home
to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" her host cried in dismay. "No, no! You must wait--"

"My husband is expecting me."

This statement was a blow; it seemed to crush Longorio, who could only
look his keen distress.

As they stepped out into the street Alaire was afforded that treat
which Longorio had so thoughtfully arranged for her. There in the
gutter stood Inez Garcia with her baby in her arms, and beside her the
ragged figure of a young man, evidently her Juan. The fellow was
emaciated, his face was gaunt and worn and frightened, his feet were
bare even of sandals, the huge peaked straw hat which he clutched over
his breast was tattered, and yet in his eye there was a light.

They had waited patiently, these Gar