He went down. She listened to his steps. Below, the courtyard was all shadow, and empty, save for two dead white-clothed bodies of men, one near the zaguán, one against a pillar of the shed.
The motor-car came sounding its horn wildly all the way between the trees. It lurched into the zaguán. It was full of soldiers, soldiers standing on the running-boards, hanging on.
‘Don Ramón! Don Ramón!’ shouted the officer, leaping out of the car. ‘Don Ramón!’ He was thundering at the doors of the inner zaguán.
Why did not Ramón open? Where was he?
She leaned over the parapet and screamed like a wild bird.
‘Viene! Viene Don Ramón! Él viene!’
The soldiers all looked up at her. She drew back in terror. Then, in a panic, she turned downstairs, to the terrace. There was blood on the stone stairs, a
