Lights are moving in the courtyard; but otherwise the old tomblike repose characterizes the building.
One of the peons recognized me as I entered the court, and Altascar met me on the corridor.
I was too weak to do more than beg his hospitality for the men who had dragged wearily with me.

He looked at my hand, which still unconsciously held the broken riata.

I began, wearily, to tell him about George and my fears, but with a gentler courtesy than was even his wont, he gravely laid his hand on my shoulder.
"POCO A POCO, senor--not now.

You are tired, you have hunger, you have cold.

Necessary it is you should have peace." He took us into a small room and poured out some French cognac, which he gave to the men that had accompanied me.