He looked round hastily, and there saw Mariquita, with white, scared face and streaming eyes.
What could he do? It was his duty to march on unconscious, insensible to emotion. But this was more than mortal man could do. He paused, lingering irresolutely, when the colonel noticed his agitation, and quickly guessed the exact state of the case.
"'The girl I left behind me,' eh, sergeant-major? Well, fall out for a minute or two, if you like"—and, with this kindly and considerate permission, McKay took Mariquita aside to make his last adieux.
"Adios! vida mia" [good-bye, my life], he was saying, when the poor girl almost fainted in his arms.
He looked round, greatly perplexed, and happily his eye fell upon Sergeant Hyde.
"Here, Hyde," he said, "take charge of this dear girl."
"What! sergeant-major, have you been caught in the toils of one of these bright-eyed damsels? It is well we have got the route. They are dangerous cattle, these women; and, if you let them, will hang like a mill-stone round a soldier's neck."
"Pshaw! man, don't moralise. This girl is my heart's choice. Please Heaven I may return to console her for present sorrow. But I can't wait. Help me: I can trust you. See Mariquita safely back to her home, and then join us on board."
"I shall be taken up as a deserter."
"Nonsense! I will see to that with the adjutant. We do not sail for two hours at least; you will have plenty of time."