“Senor Caballuco,” said Frasquito Gonzalez, “will be enough and more than enough.”

“Oh, no,” responded Dona Perfecta, with cruel sarcasm, “don’t you see that Ramos has given his word to the governor?”

Caballuco sat down again, and, crossing one leg over the other, clasped his hands on them.

“A coward will be enough for me,” continued the mistress of the house implacably, “provided he has not given his word to any one.  Perhaps I may come to see my house assaulted, my darling daughter torn from my arms, myself trampled under foot and insulted in the vilest manner——­”

She was unable to continue.  Her voice died away in her throat, and she burst into tears.

“Senora, for Heaven’s sake calm yourself!  Come, there is no cause yet!” said Don Inocencio hastily, and manifesting the greatest distress in his voice and his countenance.  “Besides, we must have a little resignation and bear patiently the calamities which God sends us.”

“But who, senora, who would dare to commit such outrages?” asked one of the four countrymen.  “Orbajosa would rise as one man to defend the mistress.”

“But who, who would do it?” they all repeated.

“There, don’t trouble yourselves asking useless questions,” said the Penitentiary officiously.  “You may go.”

“No, no, let them stay,” said Dona Perfecta quickly, drying her tears.  “The company of my loyal servants is a great consolation to me.”

“May my race be accursed!” said Uncle Licurgo, striking his knee with his clenched hand, “if all this mess is not the work of the mistress’ own nephew.”

“Of Don Juan Rey’s son?”

“From the moment I first set eyes on him at the station at Villahorrenda, and he spoke to me with his honeyed voice and his mincing manners,” declared Licurgo, “I thought him a great—­I will not say what, through respect for the mistress.  But I knew him—­I put my mark upon him from that moment, and I make no mistakes.  A thread shows what the ball is, as the saying goes; a sample tells what the cloth is, and a claw what the lion is.”

“Let no one speak ill of that unhappy young man in my presence,” said Senora de Polentinos severely.  “No matter how great his faults may be, charity forbids our speaking of them and giving them publicity.”

“But charity,” said Don Inocencio, with some energy, “does not forbid us protecting ourselves against the wicked, and that is what the question is.  Since character and courage have sunk so low in unhappy Orbajosa; since our town appears disposed to hold up its face to be spat upon by half a dozen soldiers and a corporal, let us find protection in union among ourselves.”

“I will protect myself in whatever way I can,” said Dona Perfecta resignedly, clasping her hands.  “God’s will be done!”

“Such a stir about nothing!  By the Lord!  In this house they are all afraid of their shadows,” exclaimed Caballuco, half seriously, half jestingly.  “One would think this Don Pepito was a legion of devils.  Don’t be frightened, senora.  My little nephew Juan, who is thirteen, will guard the house, and we shall see, nephew for nephew, which is the best man.”