she was afraid to say anything but paternosters in it. Isabel cowered before the poor skeleton in the corner, and the centipedes and snakes that filled the bottles on the shelves. There was not a servant that would enter the room.
But Antonia did not regard books as a part of some vague spiritual power. She knew the history of the skeleton. She had seen the death of many of those "little devils" corked up in alcohol. She knew that at this hour, if her father were at home he was always disengaged, and she opened the door fearlessly, saying, "Father, here is a gentleman who wishes to see you."
The doctor had quite refreshed himself, and, in a house-suit of clean, white linen, was lying on a couch reading. He arose with alacrity, and with his pleasant smile seemed to welcome the intruder, as he stepped behind him and closed the door. Antonia had disappeared. They were quite alone.
"You are Doctor Robert Worth, sir?"
Their eyes met, their souls knew each other.
"And you are Sam Houston?"
The questions were answered in a hand grip, a sympathetic smile on both faces--the freemasonry of kindred spirits.
"I have a letter from your son Thomas, doctor, and I think, also, that you will have something to say to me, and I to you."
The most prudent of patriots could not have resisted this man. He had that true imperial look which all born rulers of men possess--that look that half coerces, and wholly persuades. Robert Worth acknowledged its power by his instant and decisive answer.
"I have, indeed, much to say to you. We shall have dinner directly, then you will give the night to me?"
After a short conversation he led him into the sala and introduced him to Antonia. He himself had to prepare the Senora for her visitor, and he had a little quaking of the heart as he entered her room. She was dressed for dinner, and turned with a laughing face to meet him.
"I have been listening to the cooks quarrelling over the olla, Roberto. But what can my poor Manuel say when your Irishwoman attacks him. Listen to her! 'Take your dirty stew aff the fire then! Shure it isn't fit for a Christian to ate at all!'"
"I hope it is, Maria, for we have a visitor tonight."
"Who, then, my love?"
"Mr. Houston."
"Sam Houston? Holy Virgin of Guadalupe preserve us! I will not see the man."
"I think you will, Maria. He has brought this letter for you from our son Thomas; and he has been so kind as to take charge of some fine horses, and sell them well for him in San Antonio. When a man does us a kindness, we should say thank you."
"That is truth, if the man is not the Evil One. As for this Sam Houston, you should have heard what was said of him at the Valdez's."
"I did hear. Everything was a lie."
"But he is a very common man."
"Maria, do you call a soldier, a lawyer, a member of the 

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