“Off? Eugenio! O! not without me?”
“God, little girl! In this race I must not be hampered by so much as a thought. But I will return for thee—never fear.”
He still sat in his domino. She knelt at his feet, stanching the flow from the wound the pistol had made in his leg. At his words she looked up breathlessly into his face; then away, to hide her swimming eyes. In the act she slunk down, making herself small in the sand.
“Eugenio! My God! we are watched!”
He turned about quickly.
“Whence?”
“From the mouth of the pass,” she whispered.
“I can see nothing,” he said. “Hurry, nevertheless! What a time thou art! There, it is enough of thy bungling fingers. Help me to my feet and out of this place. Come!” he ended, angrily.
He had an ado to climb the easy slope. By the time they were entered amongst the rocks and bushes above, it was black dusk.
“Whither wouldst thou, dearest?” whispered the goatherd.