"I do not think; I know, senor! Later you also will know," Rotil promised with grim certainty. "This marriage is of interest to me, and has been too long delayed. It is now for you to say if you will be a bridegroom in chains, or if it please you to have the irons off."

"This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal if----"

"Oh, senor! Your experience is less than I thought," interrupted Rotil, "and you are much mistaken,--much! We are all witnesses here.

Senor Rhodes will be pleased to unfasten those heavy chains to oblige the lady. The chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women have curious prejudices about such things! But it must be understood that you stand quiet for the ceremony. If not, this gun of mine will manage it that you stay quiet forever."

Perez stood up, baffled and beaten, but threatening.

"Take them off, you!" he snarled, "though it is a h.e.l.l of a ransom,--and that woman will pay. Let no one forget that her pay will be heavy!"

"That paying is for afterwards!" decided Rotil airily, "but here and now we men would see a wedding before we leave Soledad. Capitan Rhodes, will you bring in Dona Jocasta?"

Kit, in some wonder, went on the errand, and found the women eager to deck her with blossoms and give some joyous note to the wedding of the dawn, but she sat cold and white with the flowers of the desert springtime about her, and forbade them.

"He terrifies me much in sending that word to wake me with this morning," she protested. "I tell you I will kill myself before I live one more day of life with Jose Perez! I told him all my heart in the _sala_ last night, and it means not anything to Ramon Rotil;--he would tie me in slavery to that man I hate!"

"Senora, I do not know what the general means, but I know it is not that. His work is for your service, even though appearance is otherwise."

"You think that?"

"I almost know it."

"Then I go," she decided. "I think I would have to go anyway, but the heart would be more heavy, _Santa Maria_!--but this place of Soledad is strange in its ways."

It was the first time he had seen her frightened, but her mouth trembled, and her eyes sought the floor.

He reached out and took her hand; it was terribly cold.

"Courage, and trust Rotil," he said rea.s.suringly. "When you sift out the whole situation that is about all left to any of us here in the desert."

He led her along the corridor, the women following. Men with pack animals were gathering in wonder around the cases in the plaza, and through the portal they saw the impromptu bridal procession, and fell silent. The Americano appeared to have a hand in every game,--and that was a matter of wonder.

As they entered, Padre Andreas was reading aloud the brief history of Jocasta Benicia Sandoval, eldest daughter of Teresa Sandoval and Ignatius Sanchez of Santa Ysobel in the Sierras. Padre Andreas had balked at writing the paternity of children of Teresa Sandoval, but a revolver in Rotil's hand was the final persuader.

"This is to be all an honest record for which there are witnesses in plenty," he stated. "Teresa Sandoval had only one lover,--even though Padre Ignatius Sanchez did call her daughters nieces of his! But the marriage record of Senora Jocasta Sandoval shall have only truth."

Jocasta wrote her name to the statement as directed, and noted that Jose had already signed.

She did not look at him, but moved nearer to Rotil and kept her eyes on the table. He noted her shrinking and turned to the priest.

"Senor," he said, "these two people will write their names together on the contract, but this is a marriage without kisses or clasping of hands. It is a civil contract bound by word of mouth, and written promise, under witness of the church. Read the service."

There was a slight hesitation on the part of Perez when asked if he would take Jocasta Sandoval as wife, but the gun of Rotil hastened his decision, and his voice was defiantly loud. Jocasta followed quietly, and then in a benediction which was emptiest mockery, Jose Perez and Jocasta Sandoval were p.r.o.nounced man and wife.

"May I now go?" she murmured, but the contract was signed by all present before Rotil nodded to Kit.

"You will have the honor of conducting the Dona Jocasta Perez to breakfast," he said. "The rest of us have other business here. Senora, will you do us the favor to outline to this gentleman the special tasks you would like attention given at once. There are some Indian slaves in the south for whom the Palomitas people ask help. You are now in a position to be of service there, and it would be a good act with which to establish a new rule at Soledad."

"Thanks, General Rotil," she answered, rather bewildered by the swiftness with which he turned over to her the duties devolving upon her newly acquired position. "I am not wise in law, but what I can I will do."

"And that will be nothing!" volunteered Perez. "A woman of my name will not make herself common in the markets or law courts,--to have her Indian ancestry cast in my teeth!"

"As to that," said Rotil humorously, "there is not so much! The father of Teresa Sandoval was the priestly son of a marquise of Spain! only one drop of Indian to three of the church in the veins of Senora Perez, so you perceive she has done honor to your house. You will leave your name in good hands when G.o.d calls you to judgment."

Kit noted the sudden tension of Perez at the last sentence, and a look of furtive, fearful questioning in his eyes as he looked at Rotil, who was folding the marriage contract carefully, wrapping it in a sheet of paper for lack of an envelope.

But, as squire of dames, Kit was too much occupied to give further heed to business in the _sala_. Dona Jocasta expressed silently a desire to get away from there as soon as might be; she looked white and worn, and cast at Rotil a frightened imploring glance as she clung to Kit's arm. He thought he would have to carry her before they crossed the patio.

"When Ramon laughs like that--" she began and then went silent, shuddering. Kit, remembering the look in the eyes of Perez, did not care to ask questions.

The older women went back to the kitchen to finish breakfast and gossip over the amazing morning, but Tula remained near Dona Jocasta,--seeing all and her ears ever open.

Padre Andreas followed, under orders from Rotil, who told him to do any writing required of him by the Senora Perez, and arrange for safe couriers south when she had messages ready. His knowledge of villages and rancheros was more dependable than that of the vaqueros; he would know the names of safe men.

Dona Jocasta sighed, and looked from one to the other appealingly.

"It is much, very much to plan for before the sun is showing," she murmured. "Is there not some little time to think and consider?"

"Even now the men of Ramon Rotil are packing the beasts for the trail," said the priest, "and he wants all your plans and desires stated before he goes east."

"_My_ desires!" and her smile held bitterness as she turned to Kit.

"You, senor, have never seen the extent of the Perez holdings in Sonora. They are so vast that one simple woman like me would be lost in any plans of change there. Jose Perez meant what he said;--no woman can take control while he lives."

"Still, there are some things a woman could do best," ventured Kit, "the things of mercy;" and he mentioned the Palomitas slaves----

"That is true. Also I am in debt for much friendship, and this child of Palomitas must have the thing she asks. Tell me the best way."

"Learn from Perez which ranch of General Estaban Terain shelters the political prisoners taken from the district of Altar," suggested Kit.

"Either Perez or Conrad can tell."

Dona Jocasta looked at the priest.

"Jose Perez will hate you for this marriage, and we must seek safety for you in some other place," she said kindly, "but you are the one most able to learn this thing. Will it please you to try?"

Padre Andreas went out without a word. In his heart he resented the manner of the marriage ceremony, and scarce hoped Perez would be acquiescent or disposed to further converse, and he personally had no inclination to ask help of the General Rotil.

He was surprised as he crossed the patio to see Perez, still free from chains, walking through the portal to the plaza with Marto Cavayso beside him. He was led past the ammunition cases, and the men in their jubilant work of packing the mules. Far out up the valley to the north a cloud of dust caught the red glow of sunrise, and the priest knew the vaqueros with the Soledad cattle were already on the trail for the main body of revolutionists in the field.

Saddle horses were held a little apart in the plaza, and Padre Andreas hastened his steps lest they mount and be gone, but Marto spoke to him sharply.

"Walk in front to do your talking," he suggested. "This gentleman is not inviting company for his _pasear_."

Jose Perez turned a startled, piercing look on the priest.

"Did Rotil send you?" he demanded.

"No, senor, I came back to ask a simple thing concerning the Altar people who went south for Yucatan. Can you give me the name of the ranch where they are held?"

"I can,--but I give nothing for nothing!" he said bitterly. "Already I am caught in a trap by that marriage, and I will see that the archbishop hears of your share in it. Nothing for nothing!"