"Time was, thou
rememberest, Pepita, when an affair of this kind was openly
discussed at chocolate with everybody present, and before us all.
When Joaquin Padilla was shot at Monterey, it was the Dona herself
who told us, who read aloud the letters describing it and the
bullet-holes in his clothes, and made it quite a gala-day--and he
was a first-cousin of Guitierrez. And now, when this American goat
of a doctor is kicked to death by a mule, the family must shut
themselves up, that never a question is asked or answered." "Ay,"
responded Pepita; "and as regards that, Sanchez there knows as much
as they do, for it was he that almost saw the whole affair."
"How?--sawest it?" inquired Faquita, eagerly.
"Why, was it not he that was bringing home Pereo, who had been
lying in one of his trances or visions--blessed St. Antonio
preserve us!" said Pepita, hastily crossing herself--"on
Kooratora's grave, when the Doctor's mustang charged down upon them
like a wild bull, and the Doctor's foot half out of the stirrups,
and he not yet fast in his seat. And Pereo laughs a wild laugh and
says: 'Watch if the coyote does not drag yet at his mustang's
heels;' and Sanchez ran and watched the Doctor out of sight,
careering and galloping to his death!--ay, as Pereo prophesied.
For it was only half an hour afterward that Sanchez again heard the
tramp of his hoofs--as if it were here--and knowing it two miles
away--thou understandest, he said to himself: 'It is over.
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