"
This proposal pleased him greatly, while Cleta, the volatile, clapped
her hands with delight. While Antonio prepared to go to his neighbour's
after the saddle I went out to a solitary thorn-tree about fifty yards
from the _rancho_, and, spreading my _poncho_ in the shade,
lay down to sleep the siesta.
Before the shepherd had been long gone I heard a great noise in the
house, like banging on doors and on copper vessels, but took no notice,
supposing it to proceed from Cleta engaged in some unusually noisy
domestic operation. At length I heard a voice calling to me, "Senor!
Senor!"
Getting up, I went to the kitchen, but no person was there. Suddenly
a loud knock was given on the door communicating with the second room.
"Oh, my friend," cried Cleta's voice behind it, "my ruffian of a husband
has locked me in--can you let me out, do you think?"
"Why has he locked you in?" I asked.
"The question! Because he is a brute, of course. He always does it
when he goes out. Is it not horrible?"
"It only shows how fond he is of you," I returned.
"Are you so atrocious as to defend him? And I thought you had a
heart--so handsome, too! When I saw you I said, Ah, had I married this
man, what a happy life!"
"Thank you for your good opinion," I said. "I am very sorry you are
locked in, because it prevents me from seeing your pretty face.
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