“Then you’ll have to stop here till you die,” she said; “for I can’t pick you up and put you into the saddle as if you were a baby. Lean on my shoulder, anyhow.”
He seemed reluctant to do even this; but at last he put his hand on her firm, strong shoulder, and with a great effort scrambled into the saddle.
He had no sooner got his feet into the stirrups, and started to express his gratitude, when he saw her fling herself in front of him. The next instant the report of a revolver rang through the soft stillness, and her hat was cut from her head by the bullet that whizzed past him.
Before he had time to get out his revolver, she had snatched hers from her pocket and fired. He heard a cry, and saw a man rise from behind the bushes, sway to and fro, and then fall on his face.
Esmeralda sprung into her saddle.
“Come along!” she cried. “Ride all you know; there are more of them!”
He rode by her side; and she, guiding him, wound her way through the wood and on to the plain beyond. Here the bullets which had followed them ceased; and Esmeralda, slackening her speed, remarked:
“We’re safe now; they won’t come near our camp.”
She spoke quite cheerfully: her face had never lost its color for a moment; her lips were smiling.
The young man looked at her in speechless astonishment for awhile; then he burst out with: