"Can you run?" he whispered. "Then we must do so." At every corner he halted, listening. The town was up. Several parties passed on nearby streets, hurrying toward the outskirts. "They will guard the ways," muttered Cristoval. "Bien! We shall see!" A door opened—but behind them—and a belated soldier hastened toward the square, buckling as he ran, while the two stood against a wall until he was well away. They pressed on.
At a corner they almost ran upon a squad of soldiers just entering the street they were following. But the party was going toward the suburbs, and the fugitives shrank back into the shadow unobserved, starting on again warily when the footfalls had died away. Soon the houses grew meaner, with vacant spaces between, fences of rough wicker enclosing gardens, and here and there a quinuar tree. They were in the purlieus of the town, and presently turned into a lane which wound among the scattered cottages and led off somewhat to the right, less directly toward the fields. Here they left the pavement and travelled with greater difficulty, splashing into puddles and occasionally stumbling into a fence or wall at a turn in the way, but evidently getting into a more and more thinly peopled quarter. It was an obscure thoroughfare, and as Cristoval surmised, not so likely to be guarded, so they went with less caution. Suddenly his feet struck a pavement, and he knew they were on another street.
"Halt!"
The command burst fiercely through the gloom, from what direction the startled cavalier could not tell, and he dashed forward, dragging the Ñusta, vainly hoping to evade the challenger.
"Halt!" was shouted again, more sharply, this time almost in his face, and he staggered back from a terrific thrust of a pike full in the chest. Rava's shriek answered the rough summons, and Cristoval lost her hand. The soldier sprang forward, thrust again, and missed. Down the street toward the town was a shout, the quick, confused uproar of the hoofs of horses suddenly spurred, then the rhythm of the gallop. The soldier lunged wildly in the darkness, and now Cristoval's blade engaged his pike. It was over in a second. The fellow thrust a few times with ferocity, instantly aware of dangerous skill in front of him, ceased abruptly, and went down with a choking cry. Cristoval whirled away from him.
"Rava!" he shouted.
An answer came faintly from the roadside, and striding in the direction of her voice, Cristoval found her leaning, half swooning, against the wall. "Quick!" he cried, seizing her hand. "We must run. For your life, run!"
The fierce energy of his tone gave her vigor. Behind was the clamor of horsemen, and fear winged her feet. Cristoval's strength seemed to lift her from the ground, and as she sped beside him, seeing nothing, barely touching the earth, and blindly confident of his guidance, there were a few brief minutes of exhilaration.
They ran until Cristoval heard the horses reined up at the wounded soldier, then he turned to the right of the road. Here was a low wall, surmounted in a moment, and the cavalry roared past outside.
They found themselves surrounded by shrubbery and trees which rendered the night more inky black than it had been in the streets. A few paces, however, brought them to an open of some extent, and beyond rose another shadowy mass of foliage. They were in the garden of one of the numerous villas by which the town was surrounded, and they crossed the sward at a run. A few yards farther, and they came to the villa, quite deserted and dark. They passed it close and saw the doors were down. Cristoval remembered that it had been plundered months ago by the soldiery. The place served to give him his bearings, and he knew they were not far from the fields. As they stumbled through the garden in the rear they heard shouts and the gallop of the horsemen returning. They had lost the scent.