"_Despues de la comida_," said Pedro.
"I will make for you!" cried the wretched cook, opening his eyes, and so
relieved to be still alive that he could scarcely articulate.
"_Pronto_," ordered Lopez.
"_Si, Madre di Dios!_" cried the cook; and fled to his kitchen, tumbling
over himself in his eagerness to get a meal for the bandit.
There was a pause. What would Lopez do next? Kill them all? In Spanish he
began, turning to Lucia:
"_Santa Maria_--You come here."
Angela stepped forward.
"You mean me?" she asked, sweetly.
"No!" came the gruff voice of Lopez. "You!" pointing to the frightened
Lucia.
"Why do you want me?" she asked, moving slightly toward him.
"I would look at you," the bandit replied. He was appraising her already.
"Turn around." She obeyed, like an automaton, "'Ow old are you?"
She would not lie. "Twenty-four," she answered.
"Ees pretty old," laughed Lopez. "Let me see your teeth."
"My teeth!" echoed Lucia. Did he take her for a horse?
Lopez merely nodded; and, with all the self-control she could bring to her
aid, she opened her mouth and showed her wonderful teeth.
"_Si_," remarked Lopez, evidently pleased at the sight.
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