234            A RAMBLE WITH EUL0G1A.
the same old sun, alike indifferent to slaughter and
pleasure.
" Sure, Anastacia, all those bullets must shoot
some one."
" O—h—h, y—e—e—s." Her sister was grasping
the sunshade with both hands, her eyes starting from
her head, although she never removed their gaze from
the central volume of smoke.
" Ay, we can sleep in peace if those murdering
bandits are killed!" exclaimed Dona Pomposa. " I
have said a rosary every night for five years that
they might be taken. And, holy Heaven! To think
that we have been petting the worst of them as if he
were General Castro or Juan Alvarado. To think,
my Eulogia! That thirsty wild-cat has had his arm
about thy waist more times than I can count."
" He danced very well—aha! "
Aunt Anastacia gurgled like an idiot. Dona Pom-
posa gave a terrific shriek, which Eulogia cut in two
with her hand. A man had crawled out of the brush
near them. His face was black with powder, one
arm hung, limp, at his side. Dona Pomposa half
raised her arm to signal the men on the hill, but her
daughter gave it such a pinch that she fell back on
the seat, faint for a moment.
" Let him go," said Eulogia. " Do you want to
see a man cut in pieces before your eyes? You
would have to say rosaries for the rest of your life."
She leaned over the side of the wagon and spoke to
the dazed man, whose courage seemed to have de-
serted him.