a little better, the foreman
of the Jamaica coolies. I do not say so," Pino pointed out, as though
if he wished he might say a great deal, "but it looks as though he
were here for some punishment--as though he had displeased his father.
Or," he demanded, "why should his father, who is so wealthy, give his
son the wages of a foreman?"

During the visit of the conspirators the traditions of Spanish
etiquette gave Colonel Vega no opportunity to separate Inez from the
others; and soon, without having spoken to her alone, he and his
followers departed.

When they had gone, Inez, as was her custom when she wished to be by
herself, ordered her pony and rode out on the cliff road toward the
orange groves. Riding unattended was a breach of Spanish-American
convention. But her mother permitted it, and, in the eyes of the
people of Willemstad, her long residence abroad, and the fact that she
was half American of the North, partially excused it. Every morning at
sunrise, before the heat of the day, and just before the sun set, Inez
made these excursions. They were the bright moments of her present
life. If she did not wish to think, they prevented her from thinking;
if she did wish to think, they protected her from intrusion, and gave
her strength and health to bear the grinding anxiety of the other
hours. They brought back to her, also, memories of rides of former
days, before her father had been taken from her, when they had trotted
politely over the tan bark of Rotten Row, or when, with her soldier
brother, she had chased the wild cattle on the plantation.

Now, with her head bent, with the hand that held the reins lying
loosely on her knee, she rode at a walk, her body relaxed, her eyes
seeing nothing. Her mind was intent upon her problem, one in which
her answer to Pino Vega was but a part. To carry out the plan she had
in mind she needed a man to help her, and there were two men to whom
she might appeal. But only one, not both of them, could help her. She
was determined not to return from her ride until she had decided which
one it should be.

After an hour, as though she had reached her decision and was fearful
lest she might reconsider it, she lifted the pony into a gallop and
raced to Casa Blanca. On arriving there she went directly to her room,
wrote a note, and returned with it to the stable where the groom was
just removing the saddle from her pony.

He was an old man, trusted by Inez. As a body servant he had fi