"
"Now, the curse of Koorotora on thee, Pepita!" said Pereo,
excitedly. "Speak, fool, if thou knowest anything!"
"Of a verity, no. Let Faquita, then, speak: she heard it." She
reached out her hand, and dragged Maruja's maid, not unwilling,
before the old man.
"Good! 'Tis Faquita, daughter of Gomez, and a child of the land.
Speak, little one. What said this coyote to the mother of thy
mistress?"
"Truly, good Pereo, it was but accident that befriended me."
"Truly, for thy mistress's sake, I hoped it had been more. But let
that go. Come, what said he, child?"
"I was hanging up a robe behind the curtain in the oratory when
Pepita ushered in the Americano. I had no time to fly."
"Why shouldst thou fly from a dog like this?" said one of the
cigarette-smokers who had drawn near.
"Peace!" said the old man.
"When the Dona Maria joined him they spoke of affairs. Yes, Pereo,
she, thy mistress, spoke of affairs to this man--ay, as she might
have talked to THEE. And, could he advise this? and could he
counsel that? and should the cattle be taken from the lower lands,
and the fields turned to grain? and had he a purchaser for Los
Osos?"
"Los Osos! It is the boundary land--the frontier--the line of the
arroyo--older than the Mision," muttered Pereo.
"Ay, and he talked of the--the--I know not what it is!--the r-r-
rail-r-road."
"The railroad," gasped the old man. "I will tell thee what it is!
It is the cut of a burning knife through La Mision Perdida--as long
as eternity, as dividing as death.
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