"Are you ready, señorita?" don Diego asked the young lady.
"Yes," she answered laconically.
"In that case be kind enough to follow me."
"Go on," she said, wrapping herself in her cloak, and taking no further leave of the abbess. They then left the cell, and guided by the superior, reached the convent gate. By some slight pretext the abbess had had the precaution to remove the porteress. She opened the gate herself, and then, when don Diego and the young lady had passed through, she gave a farewell bow to the secretary, and closed the gate again, as if anxious to be delivered from the alarm that his presence caused her.
"Señorita," don Diego said respectfully, "be kind enough to mount this horse."
"Señor," she said in a sad but firm voice, "I am a poor defenseless orphan: I obey you, because any resistance on my part would be madness; but—"
"Doña Dolores," said one of the horsemen, "we are sent by don Jaime."
"Oh!" she exclaimed joyfully, "'Tis the voice of don Carlos."
"Yes, señorita; reassure yourself, then, and be good enough to mount without further delay, as we have no time to spare."
The young lady leapt lightly on don Diego's horse.