Such was Alaire's first
hasty impression of Luis Longorio, the Tarleton of Potosi's army.
Disdain, hauteur, impatience, were stamped upon the general's
countenance as he pushed briskly through the crowd, turning his
head from side to side in search of the woman who had summoned
him.
Not until she rose did he discover Alaire; then he halted; his
eyes fixed themselves upon her with a stare of startled amazement.
Alaire felt herself color faintly, for the man seemed to be
scanning her from head to foot, taking in every detail of her face
and form, and as he did so his expression remained unaltered. For
what seemed a full minute Longorio stood rooted; then the stiff-
vizored cap was swept from his head; he bowed with the grace of a
courtier until Alaire saw the part in his oily black hair.
"Senora! A thousand apologies for my delay," he said. "Caramba! I
did not dream--I did not understand your message." He continued to
regard her with that same queer intensity.
"You are General Longorio?" Alaire was surprised to note that her
voice quavered uncertainly, and annoyed to feel her face still
flushing.
"Your obedient servant."
With a gesture Mrs.
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