"I was giving him some instructions in regard to our safety," I answered; not caring to start the fears of capture which were already present to my mind in disquieting force. With that we started.
CHAPTER XXVIII
HOW LUCK CAN CHANGE
As we left Calvarro's I rode with the utmost caution, for I felt by no means certain that Livenza, even in his changed mood, might not attempt some treachery. But I wronged him in that thought. He had cleared right away and had taken his men with him; and so soon as I was convinced of this, I drew rein and questioned Juan as to the possible roads that were open for us to take.
The position of Daroca made our difficulties vastly greater. The mountains were on three sides of us, and Juan admitted that he knew the passes very indifferently, while it was certain that the chief of them would be blocked with the soldiery. The one bit of open country was that by which I had ridden from Calatayud, and as that was also the country which our young guide knew well, I determined to go there.
From Calatayud I resolved to use the railway, not to Saragossa or Madrid but to work our way north through Old Castile and the Basque Provinces, and across the frontier to Bayonne; and I directed Juan therefore to make for Calatayud by the road I had travelled earlier in the night.
"Do you think you can hold out for a twenty-mile ride, Sarita?" I asked her, as I explained generally my plans.
"I could ride for five hundred if I could only get away from my racking thoughts," was her instant and vehement response; and with that I directed Juan to travel as fast as the ground and the condition of the horses would allow. I knew that a good remedy for her mental distress would be found in physical fatigue, and we rattled along therefore at a strapping pace and for a long time most part in silence. One caution I gave her.
"If you have any papers or anything on you which might cause you to be identified, you had better destroy them in case we are interfered with and you are searched. Until we are out of Spain I shall say you are my sister, and that we are leaving the country because of the troubled state of things."
"I have nothing. I came in this disguise," she answered, referring to the peasant's dress she wore. "Scarcely a convincing dress for Lord Glisfoyle's sister. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now," she added, with a sigh.