The hacendero continued:
"What shall we do? We must decide upon something or other; we cannot stop here and wait for night."
"It is my opinion," said the capataz, "that we have no other alternative than to leave this place directly. Who knows whether the wretch is not preparing to swoop down upon us this very moment, at the head of a band of robbers like himself?"
"Yes; but where are we to go? None of us knows the road," interposed the hacendero.
"Horses have an infallible instinct which never fails to direct them to inhabited places. Let us throw the reins on their necks, and leave them to choose their road."
"It is a chance we might try; it might succeed. Let us set to work without delay."
"Father! In the name of Heaven," entreated Doña Hermosa, "Think of what you are about to do. Do not act with a precipitation you would soon regret. Wait a little while yet; it is scarcely midday, and an hour more or less is of little importance."
"I will not wait a minute, not a second!" violently exclaimed the hacendero, rising to his feet. "Here, muchachos! Saddle the horses quickly; we will be off."
The peones hastened to obey.
"Be careful, father," said the girl; "I hear the sound of a horse's hoofs in the thicket; our guide is returning."