That was the way it came about that Don Abrahan occupied his own prison, with its cross-barred door of iron, its thick outer door of oak, both of which were locked securely upon him. His keeper was an ancient Indian, called forward by Felipe, a man whose proud spirit had remained unbroken through more than fifty years of injustice at the hands of Don Abrahan's father and Don Abrahan after him. This man had suffered hunger and thirst in the narrow cell; he had felt the bite of the lash at the whipping-post. It was not a merciful jailer that was set over Don Abrahan Garvanza. In all his years Don Abrahan had not been keeping an account that would credit mercy due him at the end.
Helena came from her retirement in Don Felipe's office when Don Abrahan had been taken away. There had been great wonder, great admiration, expressed concerning this handsome caballero among the simple people. It was fitting, they said, that such as this one, and Don Gabriel with his laughing eyes, should bring liberty to the oppressed who labored their lives away to pay their endless debts to Don Abrahan. For was it not well understood that when the Americans came, all men were to own land and be free?
"My general," said Helena, approaching softly behind Henderson, speaking over his shoulder.
He turned with such eagerness that many guessed the truth hidden by Helena's long cloak and broad sombrero. They were almost confirmed
