o had other unpleasant thoughts in connexion with this
affair. What could have brought the Comandante to the rancho? How had
he found out that interesting abode,--that spot, sequestered as it was,
that seemed to him (Don Juan) to be the centre of the world? Who had
directed him that way? What brought the troop out of the main road,
their usual route of march?

These were questions which Don Juan put to himself. To have asked them
of Rosita would have been to disclose the existence of a feeling he
would rather keep concealed--jealousy.

And jealous he was at the moment. The drink, she had served him of
course,--the cigar, she had lit it for him--perhaps invited him in!
Even now she appeared in the highest spirits, and not at all angry at
the visit that had been paid her!

Don Juan's reflections had suddenly grown bitter, and he did not join in
the laugh which his sweetheart was indulging in.

When after a short while she invited him in, his feelings took a turn,
and he became himself again. He dismounted from his horse, and followed
Rosita through the garden into the house.

The girl sat down by the loom and continued her work, while the young
ranchero was allowed to kneel upon the petate beside her, and converse
at will. There was no objection to his occasionally assisting her to
straighten out the woof or untwist a fouled thread; and, on these
occasions, their fingers frequently met, and seemed to remain longer in
contact than was necessary for the unravelling of the knot.

But no one noticed all this. Rosita's mother was indulging in a siesta;
and Cibolo, if he saw anything amiss, said nothing about it to any one,
but wagged his tail, and looked good-humouredly at Don Juan, as if he
entirely approved of the latter's conduct.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

When Vizcarra reached his sumptuous quarters, the first thing he did was
to call for wine. It was brought, and he drank freely and with fierce
determination.

He thought by that to drown his chagrin; and for a while he succeeded.

There is relief in wine, but it is only temporary: you may make jealousy
drunk and oblivious, but you cannot keep it so. It will be sober as
soon--ay, sooner than yourself. Not all the wine that was ever pressed
from grapes can drown it into a complete oblivion.

Vizcarra's heart was filled by various passions. There was love--that
is, such love as a libertine feels; jealousy; anger at the coarse
handling he had experi