and Luis had placed a fountain
in it, which, however, only played when the waters were high in the
Cerde.

"Whether you hate the old or love the young, bide there," she whispered;
"there is no need that Tia Elvira should have all the gold. Cross my
hand again, and I am your servant for ever."

Ramon gave her a gold _duro_.

"I am not a rich man," he said, "but for your good-will you are
welcome!"

"You run eager-hearted in the dust with bare and bleeding feet," she
said. "You carry a knife naked in your bosom. Therefore you are rich
enough for me. And I will spite Tia Elvira if I can. She would not give
me so much as an _ochavo_ of all her gettings. Why should I consider
her?"

And she gripped Ramon by the arm with claws like eagles' talons and
stood leaning against him, breathing into his ear.

"Ah, Gallego, you are strong to lean against. I love a man so," she
said. "Once you had not stood so slack and careless if La Giralda had
leaned her breast against your shoulder--ah me, all withered now is it
and hard as the rim of a sieve. But you love this young widow, you also.
She is El Sarria's widow, they tell me, he whom the Migueletes slew at
the entering in of the Devil's Canyon. A fine man that, _Caramba_! And so
you too wish to marry her now he is dead. If I were a widow and young I
would choose you, for you are of stature and thickness, yes--a proper
man through and through. Scarce can I meet my old arms about your chest.
Yet woman never knows woman, and she may chance to prefer Don Luis. But
the babe is in their way--the babe that cried to-night. Luis does not
wish it well. He longs for children of his own by this woman, and El
Sarria's brat would spoil his inheritance. The Tia let the secret out in
her cups!"

She stopped and unclasped her arms.

"Ah," she said, "you love not Don Luis. I felt it when I spoke of his
having issue by that woman. I wot well the thing will never happen. Your
knife or your pistol (of these you have two) will have conference with
him before that. But, if you wish this child to live--though I see not
why you should, save that its father was like you a proper man and the
slayer of many--stand yonder in the shadow of the summer-house, and if
any come out with the babe, smite! If it be a man, smite hard, but if it
be Aunt Elvira, the _hax_, smite ten times harder. For she is the devil
in petticoats and hath sworn away many a life, as she would do mine if
she could. I, who have nev