At last, at about half past eight o'clock, the arrieros placed themselves at the head of their mules; the servants, armed to the teeth, mounted, and Doña Concha, dressed in a charming travelling costume, walked down the steps, and with a merry laugh, bounded into the litter, where she nestled like a hummingbird among rose leaves.
At a sign from the capataz, the mules, already fastened to each other in a file, started. Don Valentine then turned to an old Negro, who was standing respectfully near him, hat in hand.
"Good-bye, tío Peralta," he said to him; "I give you charge of the house, and leave you Cyrillo and Nanez."
"Your Excellency can reckon on my vigilance," the old man answered; "may God bless your Excellency, and the Niña too. I will take great care of her birds."
"Thank you, tío Peralta," the young lady said, leaning out of the litter.
The courtyard was already empty, when the Negro bowed, delighted at the thanks.
The night storm had completely swept the sky, which was of a pale blue; the sun, already high on the horizon, spread profusely its warm beams, which were filtered through the fragrant vapours that rose from the ground. The atmosphere was wondrously transparent, a slight breeze refreshed the air, and swarms of birds, glistening with a thousand hues, dashed about. The mules, which followed the bell of the yegua madrina, trotted to the songs of the arrieros. The caravan marched gaily across the sandy desert, raising the dust around it, and undulating like a long serpent, in the endless windings of the road. Don Blas, with ten servants, who explored the country, and examined the bushes, formed the vanguard. Don Valentine, with a cigar in his mouth, was conversing with his daughter, while twenty resolute men closed the march, and protected the travellers.
In the plains of Patagonia, a journey of four hours, like that to the estancia of San Julian, requires as many precautions as one of two hundred among us; enemies are ambuscaded everywhere, and ready for pillage and murder; and travellers are compelled to be on their guard against gauchos, Indians, and wild beasts.
The white houses of Carmen had disappeared long ago, when the capataz, leaving the head of the party, galloped up to the side of the litter.
"What is the matter?" Don Valentine asked.