not answer his question. She sat looking at the mango trees and the lake, and the thought of that afternoon came over her again.
“How did those two men get in; those two bandits on the roof?” she asked wonderingly.
“It was a woman this time; a girl whom Carlota brought here from the Cuna in Mexico, to be a sewing girl and to teach the peon’s wives to sew and do little things. She had a little room at the end of the terrace there—” Ramón pointed to the terrace projecting towards the lake, opposite the one where his own room was, and the covered balcony. “She got entangled with one of the peons; a sort of second overseer, called Guillermo. Guillermo had got a wife and four children, but he came to me to say could he change and take Maruca—the sewing girl. I said no, he could stay with his family. And I sent Maruca back to Mexico. But she had had a smattering of education, and thought she was equal to anything. She got messages through to Guillermo, and he ran away and joined her in Mexico, leaving wife and four children here. The wife then went to live with another peon—the blacksmith—whose wife had died and who was supposed to be a good match; a decent fellow.
“One day appeared Guillermo, and said: could he come back? I said not with Maruca. He said he didn’t want Maruca, he wanted to come back. His wife was willing to go back to him again with the children. The blacksmith was willing to let her go. I said very well; but he had forfeited his job as sub-overseer, and must