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Chinita, who had pushed her way through the crowd of children and half-grown idlers that had been attracted to the court, and were gazing in silent and opened-mouthed wonderment and admiration at the imposing personage called the General José Ramirez, was so absorbed in the contemplation of his half-military, half-equestrian bravery of riding trousers of stamped leather trimmed with silver buttons, and wide felt hat gorgeous with gold and silver cords and lace, his epauletted jacket, and scarlet sash bristling with silver-handled pistols and stilletto, that she took no heed when a servant came to lead away the charger upon which the object of her admiration had been mounted, and so narrowly escaped being knocked down and trampled upon.

“Have a care thou!” cried Don Vicente, as he sprang forward and clutched the child by the arm, drawing her out of danger, while a score of voices—the General’s perhaps the most indifferent among them—reiterated epithets of abuse to the servant and admonition to the child. In the midst of the commotion, Don Rafael conducted the two officers to rooms which were hastily assigned them.