As he approached the spot where his warriors were, he heard, more and more distinctly, cries which increased his anxiety, and made him hurry on, at the risk of making a false step and rolling to the foot of the precipice. In fact, he had scarce reached the prairie when two of his confidants who were seeking him, rushed toward him with shouts of delight.
"Come, come," they said to him; "if not, all is lost." The Stag, without losing any time in questioning them, followed them to the top of the hill. This is what had occurred during his absence. The two ladies had been carried up the hill, and carefully laid on mats in front of the fire. Doña Emilia, though greatly shaken by the fall, speedily regained entire consciousness. Owing to the exaltation of her mind, instead of being crushed, she had derived fresh courage from the misfortunes which had suddenly burst over her. Her first care was to look round her and attentively examine the persons who surrounded her, in order to discover, were it possible, into what hands she had fallen.
At the first moment, deceived by the European dress of some of her assailants, she imagined she had to deal with a party of those ruffians who come to the surface in revolutionary times—the scum of the population—who regard political questions entirely as a matter of plunder, and who had for some years infested Mexico, recognizing no other flag but their own, and waging war on their own account, serving both parties indifferently, or rather injuring both by their cowardice, barbarity, and instinct of rapine. At times, the villains, not being numerous enough to attempt a bold stroke, allied themselves with the Indians, and ravaged the country with them. The patriots and Spaniards had both tried to put a stop to the depredations of these bandits by mercilessly shooting and hanging all they caught, but it was of no avail. Instead of diminishing their number seemed to increase, and latterly they had grown really formidable, and their audacity knew no bounds.
But a second and quieter glance made Doña Emilia understand that she was in error, and that the persons she at first took for Europeans were Indians in disguise. This discovery augmented her courage. She believed herself certain of the influence she exerted over these men, and she thought she would be able to terrify them sufficiently not to have anything to fear from them. Moreover, the conduct of the Indians towards her justified her expectations. It was only with a tremor that they dared to approach her. A glance was sufficient to keep them back. Even those who had associated with white men, and whom the Stag had ordered to assume European attire, kept at a respectful distance from the two ladies, and were apparently not desirous to be on more intimate terms with them.
Doña Emilia rose, no one making any attempt to prevent her. She went up to her daughter, sat down by her side, and raising her beautiful head, laid it gently on her knees. She gazed at her tenderly for a moment, then, after removing the long curls of light hair which veiled her face, she covered it with kisses, murmuring in a soft voice, but with an accent of ineffable tenderness—
"Poor, dear soul, her heart did not deceive her, her presentiments were true. Alas! Why did I not put faith in her words? Oh, my adored daughter! I alone am the cause of this frightful misfortune. Forgive me, forgive me!"
And two burning tears, which the feeling of her position had been unable to draw from her, fell on the girl's forehead. The latter feebly opened her eyes.
"Mother," she murmured, in her childish voice. "Oh, mother, how I am suffering!"
"Alas, poor darling!" Doña Emilia replied, "I am suffering too; but what should I care for pain if I knew you were in safety? I am accustomed to suffer, while you, alas!—"
She ceased, and a sigh burst from her bosom. The maiden continued—