"What does this mean?" he demanded, glaring at his daughter as he
advanced a step or two into the room. "Locked doors at so early an
hour?"
"Why, papa, dear, we heard the shouts and several revolver shots,"
said his daughter. "Was it not natural for two lone women to lock
their door?"
"Humm!"
The Don glanced quickly about the room.
"Papa, what is the matter? What is the meaning of all this noise? Of
those shots?" Rafaela anxiously inquired.
"Some man impersonating one of my lieutenants gained entrance," said
the Don. "I believe him a government agent. He may have come to
attempt my life."
"Oh, no, papa, dear," protested Rafaela, shocked. "Why, he--"
Frantic lest she might betray herself and him, Jack reached forward
cautiously and tapped the tiny ankle dangling before him.
He was none too soon. Thus brought to a realization of her position,
Rafaela checked the words.
"What's that?" asked her father. "What did you say?"
"Why, papa," she answered, "I was going to say he couldn't be so mean.
To come here to kill you. Oh, no. That would be too terrible."
"But I do believe it," affirmed the Don. "What do you know of how
politics is carried on in our poor, distracted country? Tut, tut, you
are just a girl.
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