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deemed a man might look upon her as impersonally as upon the white mare, giving credit where credit was due. It struck him then that all that was wrong with Zoraida Castelmar was that she was an anachronism; that had he lived a thousand years ago and had she then, a barbaric queen, stepped before him, he would have seen the superb beauty of her and would have gone no further.
Before now he had felt that she was "foreign." That was on the border.
Here, deep in Old Mexico, she still remained foreign. Rightly she belonged to another age, if not to another star.
For the moment she sat smiling at him, her eyes dancing and yet masking her ultimate thought. Triumph he had glimpsed and, as always, a shadowy hint of mockery. Suddenly she turned from him and put out her gauntleted hand to Barlow, flashing him another sort of smile, one that made Barlow's eyes brighten and brought a hotter flush to his tanned cheeks.
"You have kept your promise with me," she said softly. "I shall not forget and you will not regret!" Even while she spoke her eyes drifted back to Kendric, laughing at him, taunting him.
He looked sharply at Barlow. But he said nothing and Barlow, intent upon the girl, did not note his turned head.
Zoraida turned imperiously upon Fernando Escobar. "These men are my guests," she said sharply, her tone filled with defiant warning.
"Remember that, Señor el Capitan . You will escort them to the house where my cousin will receive them. Until we meet at table, señores all."
From her neck hung a tiny whistle from a thin gold chain; she lifted it to her lips, blew a long clear note and with a last sidelong look at Kendric touched her dainty spurs to her mare's sides and shot away.
"You will follow me," said Escobar stiffly. "This way, caballeros ."
He pressed by them, dismissing his following with a glance, and rode through the wide arched gateway. Barlow turned in after him but hesitated when Kendric called coolly:
"I have small hankering to accept the lady's hospitality, Barlow. Why should we establish ourselves here instead of going on about our business? By the lord, her invitation smacks to me too damned much of outright command!"
"No use startin' anything, Jim," said Barlow. "Come ahead."
At them both Escobar smiled contemptuously.
"Look," he said, pointing toward the adobe. "Judge if it be wise to hesitate when la señorita reina says enter."
They saw graveled driveways and flower bordered walks under the oaks; blossoming, fragrant shrubs welcoming countless birds; an expanse of velvet lawn with a marble-rimmed pool and fountain. A beautiful garden, empty one instant, then slowly filling as from about a far corner of the house came a line of men. Young men, every one of them, fine-looking, dark-skinned fellows dressed after the extravagant fashion of the land which mothered them, with tall conical hats and slashed trousers, broad sashes and glistening boots. They came on like military squads, silent, erect, eyes full ahead. Out in the driveway they halted, fifty of them. And like one man, they saluted.
"Will you enter as a guest?" jeered Escobar.
Kendric's anger flared up.
"I'll tell you one thing, my fine friend Fernando Escobar," he said hotly,
"I don't like the cut of your sunny disposition. You and I are not going to mix well, and you may as well know it from the start. As for this
'guest' business, just what do you mean?"
Escobar shrugged elaborately and half veiled his insolent eyes with the long lashes.
"You mean," went on Kendric stubbornly, "your 'Queen Lady' as you call her, has instructed her rabble to bring us in, willy-nilly?"
"Ai!" cried Escobar in mock surprise. " El Americano reads the secret thought!"
"Come ahead, Jim," urged Barlow anxiously. "Don't I tell you there is no sense startin' a rumpus? Suppose you weeded out half of 'em, the other half would get you right. And haven't we got enough ahead of us without goin' out of our way, lookin' for a row?"
For answer Kendric gave his
Before now he had felt that she was "foreign." That was on the border.
Here, deep in Old Mexico, she still remained foreign. Rightly she belonged to another age, if not to another star.
For the moment she sat smiling at him, her eyes dancing and yet masking her ultimate thought. Triumph he had glimpsed and, as always, a shadowy hint of mockery. Suddenly she turned from him and put out her gauntleted hand to Barlow, flashing him another sort of smile, one that made Barlow's eyes brighten and brought a hotter flush to his tanned cheeks.
"You have kept your promise with me," she said softly. "I shall not forget and you will not regret!" Even while she spoke her eyes drifted back to Kendric, laughing at him, taunting him.
He looked sharply at Barlow. But he said nothing and Barlow, intent upon the girl, did not note his turned head.
Zoraida turned imperiously upon Fernando Escobar. "These men are my guests," she said sharply, her tone filled with defiant warning.
"Remember that, Señor el Capitan . You will escort them to the house where my cousin will receive them. Until we meet at table, señores all."
From her neck hung a tiny whistle from a thin gold chain; she lifted it to her lips, blew a long clear note and with a last sidelong look at Kendric touched her dainty spurs to her mare's sides and shot away.
"You will follow me," said Escobar stiffly. "This way, caballeros ."
He pressed by them, dismissing his following with a glance, and rode through the wide arched gateway. Barlow turned in after him but hesitated when Kendric called coolly:
"I have small hankering to accept the lady's hospitality, Barlow. Why should we establish ourselves here instead of going on about our business? By the lord, her invitation smacks to me too damned much of outright command!"
"No use startin' anything, Jim," said Barlow. "Come ahead."
At them both Escobar smiled contemptuously.
"Look," he said, pointing toward the adobe. "Judge if it be wise to hesitate when la señorita reina says enter."
They saw graveled driveways and flower bordered walks under the oaks; blossoming, fragrant shrubs welcoming countless birds; an expanse of velvet lawn with a marble-rimmed pool and fountain. A beautiful garden, empty one instant, then slowly filling as from about a far corner of the house came a line of men. Young men, every one of them, fine-looking, dark-skinned fellows dressed after the extravagant fashion of the land which mothered them, with tall conical hats and slashed trousers, broad sashes and glistening boots. They came on like military squads, silent, erect, eyes full ahead. Out in the driveway they halted, fifty of them. And like one man, they saluted.
"Will you enter as a guest?" jeered Escobar.
Kendric's anger flared up.
"I'll tell you one thing, my fine friend Fernando Escobar," he said hotly,
"I don't like the cut of your sunny disposition. You and I are not going to mix well, and you may as well know it from the start. As for this
'guest' business, just what do you mean?"
Escobar shrugged elaborately and half veiled his insolent eyes with the long lashes.
"You mean," went on Kendric stubbornly, "your 'Queen Lady' as you call her, has instructed her rabble to bring us in, willy-nilly?"
"Ai!" cried Escobar in mock surprise. " El Americano reads the secret thought!"
"Come ahead, Jim," urged Barlow anxiously. "Don't I tell you there is no sense startin' a rumpus? Suppose you weeded out half of 'em, the other half would get you right. And haven't we got enough ahead of us without goin' out of our way, lookin' for a row?"
For answer Kendric gave his
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