The man shook his head.
“There’s very little risk, believe me. I’ll join Castro and ride all through the night. I’ll be down below in no time at all. But we must be going, dear.”
The man passed through the door first. But when it came the Girl’s turn she hesitated, for she had seen a dark shadow flit by the window. It was as if someone had been stealthily watching there. In another moment, however, it turned out to be Jackrabbit and, greatly relieved, the Girl whispered to Johnson that he was to descend the trail between the Indian and herself, and that on no account was he to utter a word until she gave him permission.
For another moment or so they stood in silence; Johnson, appreciating fully what were the Girl’s feelings, did not dare to whisper even a word of encouragement to her. At last, she ordered the Indian to lead the way, and they started.
The trail curved and twisted around the mountain, and in places they had to use the greatest care lest a misstep should carry them over a precipice with a drop of hundreds of feet. It was a perilous descent, inasmuch as the path was covered with snow. Moreover, it was necessary that as little noise as possible should be made while they were making their way past the buildings of the camp below, for the Mexican had not been wrong when he stated that Ashby’s men were quartered at, or in the immediate vicinity of, The Palmetto. Fortunately, they passed through without meeting anyone, and before long they came to the edge of the plateau beneath which was the ravine which Johnson had to cross to reach the spot where it had been agreed that Castro should be waiting with horses for his master. It was also the place where the Girl was to leave her lover to go on alone, and so they halted. A few moments passed without either of them speaking; at length, the man said in as cheery a voice as he could summon:
“I must leave you here. I remember the way well. All danger is past.”
The Girl’s lips were quivering; she asked:
“An’ when will you be back?”
The man noted her emotion, and though he himself was conscious of a choking sensation he contrived to say in a most optimistic tone:
“In two weeks—not more than two weeks. It will take all that time to arrange things at the rancho. As it is, I hardly see my way clear to dismissing my men—you see, they belong to me, almost, and—but I’ll do so, never fear. No power on earth could make me take up the old life again.”