“Bueno, then let us set out,” returned Josè, rising. A muffled sob reached his ears. He turned to the woman huddled in the shadow of the door.
“Come, Ana,” he said cheerily; “to-night you will again be home.”
“No, Padre––I do not go with you. I––”
“Anita!” In an instant Carmen’s arms were around her. “When padre Rosendo sees us, you and me, why––”
“Carísima!” The woman’s tears flowed fast while she hugged the girl to her bosom. “No––no––he would drive me from his house! No––let me stay here. I will get work in the posada, perhaps. Or Captain Julio will take me to Honda on his next trip, and get me a place––”
“Then we must ask him to get a place for us both,” interrupted Carmen, sitting calmly down beside her. “And think, Anita, how sad padre Rosendo will be when he sees the men come back without us!”
“Carmen! I shall throw myself into the river!” cried the sorrowing woman, rising. “You don’t know what it is––”
“Yes, I do, Anita,” returned the girl quickly; “it is nothing––just zero––and you can’t drown it! If it would do any good we would both jump into the river––that is, if God told us to––wouldn’t we? But it doesn’t help any to die, you know, for then we would have it all to do over again.”
“Ana,” said Josè, laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “you do not understand her––neither do I, wholly. But if she tells you to go with us to Simití, why, I think I would go. I would leave it all with her. You may trust her influence with Rosendo. Come.”