“Buenos dias, señora. El Cabeza has ordered me to make a suit for you, bombachas and a short jacket.”

Skye smiled and understood. It was like El Diablo to have thought of it. If she was to ride with them tomorrow, it was wise that she should be properly disguised, wearing the same clothes as the gauchos wore.

Then she remembered how little time there was before they went to Jācara.

“Is it possible for you to make a suit by tomorrow morning?” she asked.

“Si, si, señora. I will work all night. It will be ready if I can take the señora’s measurements now.”

“I think it is very clever of you if you can make it as quickly as that, but what about boots? If I wear bombachas, I shall need short calf-skin boots.”

“El Cabeza has thought of that, señora. I have told him that there are several young boys here in the camp who have not worn their best clothes since they arrived. There will surely be one amongst them who will have a new pair. I will make enquiries as soon as I have taken the señora’s measurements.”

The hunchback had taken out a tape measure from his pocket as he was talking and now Skye allowed him to measure her. He spoke with a greater refinement than the gauchos and watching him she was certain that he came from a superior class.

He was spotlessly clean for one thing, very unlike a large number of those living in the camp, and his own clothes, worn over his misshapen body, were of good quality and skilfully tailored.

“Why are you here?” Skye asked impulsively.

“The señora may well be surprised,” he answered in a low voice. “I had my own shop in Jācara. I was the best tailor in the City. Everyone who had the money to spend on good clothes came to me.”

“What happened?” Skye enquired.

“I made the mistake, señora, of pressing a member of the Government for his bill. He had owed me a very large sum for over three years. I grew impatient and I made demands upon him. I threatened to take him to the Courts.”

“And then what happened?”

“I was warned by friends that I was to be arrested on a charge of sedition. It would have been difficult to prove, of course, but in Jācara men who offend General Alejo can spend many weary months in prison awaiting their trial. I know what these prisons are like and I knew that, if I went into one, it was unlikely that I should come out alive. So I ran away, señora.”

“What a terrible story!” Skye exclaimed.

There was a faint sad smile on Josné’s lips, and his eyes were sorrowful as he replied,