The hour of siesta was not yet over, and the streets were still
deserted--probably the reason why the politicians of Todos Santos had
chosen that hour for their half secret meeting. At the corner of the
plaza he dismounted and led his horse to the public hitching-post--gnawn
and nibbled by the teeth of generations of mustangs--and turned into the
narrow lane flanked by the walls of the Alcalde's garden. Halfway
down he stopped before a slight breach in the upper part of the adobe
barrier, and looked cautiously around. The long, shadowed vista of the
lane was unobstructed by any moving figure as far as the yellow light of
the empty square beyond. With a quick leap he gained the top of the wall
and disappeared on the other aide.
CHAPTER III.
INTERNATIONAL COURTESIES.
The garden over whose wall Brace had mysteriously vanished was
apparently as deserted as the lane and plaza without. But its
solitude was one of graceful shadow and restful loveliness. A tropical
luxuriance, that had perpetuated itself year after year, until it was
half suffocated in its own overgrowth and strangled with its own beauty,
spread over a variegated expanse of starry flowers, shimmering leaves,
and slender inextricable branches, pierced here and there by towering
rigid cactus spikes or the curved plumes of palms.
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