Gomez turned to Evelyn.
"This meets with your approval?" he asked suavely.
"Oh, yes," she agreed; though she afterward realized that there was no obvious reason why she should not have waited for the coach, and that it was curious her hostess did not suggest this.
Gomez returned after dinner before Evelyn was quite ready, and she was somewhat surprised that he made no remark about the luggage she wished to take. It was skilfully lashed on the broad pack-saddles, and they set off when she mounted a handsome mule. There were two baggage animals, driven by dark-skinned peons, and two mounted men brought up the rear. Gomez said this explained the delay in getting mules for the coach, but added that the girl would find the journey pleasanter in the saddle.
Evelyn agreed with him as they rode down the roughly paved street. It was a relief to be moving, and the air had got pleasantly cool. Half-breed women with black shawls round their heads looked up at her from beside their tiny charcoal cooking fires, and she saw dark eyes flash with hostility as her escort passed. Here and there a woman of pure Spanish blood stood on a balcony and glanced down with shocked prudery at the bold American, but Evelyn smiled at this. She distrusted Gomez, who obviously was not a favorite with the poorer citizens, but as a traveling companion she did not find much fault with him.
After a while they left the houses behind and turned into a dusty, rutted track. The murmur of the sea followed them until they reached a belt of forest where the sound was cut off, and Evelyn felt as if she had lost a friend. The measured beat of the surf and the gleam of spray were familiar things; the forest was mysterious, and oppressively silent. In places a red glow shone among the massive trunks, but, for the most part, they were hung with creepers and all below was wrapped in shade. The track grew soft and wet; the air was steamy and filled with exotic smells. Evelyn felt her skin get damp, and the mules fell into a labored pace.
Strange noises began to fill the gathering gloom; the air throbbed with a humming that rose and fell. Deep undertones and shrill pipings that it was hard to believe were made by frogs and insects pierced the stagnant air. Specks of phosphorescent light twinkled among the leaves, but the fireflies were familiar and Evelyn welcomed them. She felt suddenly homesick, and wished they were not leaving the coast; but she remembered that her father had sent for her, and brushed her uneasiness away.
After a time, Gomez stopped.
"We have not gone fast, and the señora ought to overtake us soon," he said. "Will you get down and wait for her?"
The forest, with the thin mist drifting through it, had a forbidding look, and, for the first time that she could recollect, Evelyn felt afraid of the dark.