"That thought is mine, too," Ellen remarked, but added, with some hesitation, "I should not like to fly alone."
"Explain yourself," Dick said.
"It is needless," Harry quickly interrupted him. "I know what you desire. Your thought is an excellent one, Ellen, and we gladly assent to it. The young Mexican lady can accompany you. If it be possible for us to restore her to her family, who must feel in despair about her, we will do it."
Ellen gave the young man a look, and slightly blushed.
"You are a noble-hearted fellow, Harry," she replied. "I thank you for having guessed what I did not know how to ask of you."
"Is there anything else you want of us?"
"No."
"Good! Then bring your companion here as speedily as possible, and, when you return, we shall be ready. The gambusinos are asleep. Red Cedar is absent. We have nought to fear, but you had better make haste, so that before sunrise we may be far enough from here not to fear those who will doubtless pursue us when they observe your flight."
"I only ask you for a few minutes," the maiden said, and soon disappeared in the shrubs.
In vain had Doña Clara sought sleep, in obedience to her friend's recommendations. Her mind, agitated by hopes and fears, had not allowed her to enjoy a moment's rest. With eye and ear on the watch, she listened to the voices of the night, and strove to distinguish, in the gloom, the shadows that at times glided through the trees.