"I am an idiot," she said. "Of course the boy would eat his heart out away from you. I mustn't look on the black side. But do take care of him, won't you, Tim?"
And so it was settled that young Tim should remain with his father.
Next day Señor Mollendo provided an escort of half a dozen men, with whom Mrs. O'Hagan set off for the long ride into the hills. Mr. O'Hagan and Tim on horseback, each having a carbine, accompanied the party, having decided to go half the way. They left the camp at its northern side, and followed the track downward for several miles until it crossed the river by a narrow stone bridge. Then their course led to the north-west, the path rising steadily as it approached the spurs of the Andes. Progress was very slow; the day was already far advanced when they reached a little hut on the hill-side, about halfway to their destination, where Señor Mollendo was accustomed to break his journey when going to and fro between the camp and his home. Here they passed the night. In the morning Mrs. O'Hagan took leave of her husband and son, who watched her party until it disappeared along the winding track, then silently sprang to their saddles and rode in the opposite direction.
They had come within a few miles of the stone bridge over the river when they caught sight simultaneously of a number of horsemen strung out along the path far ahead, and riding towards them. Mr. O'Hagan felt the lack of one of the prime necessities of a soldier--a field-glass.
"We must hide up until we see who they are," he said to Tim. "They don't know how to order a march, at any rate."
The hill-side provided many convenient nooks for hiding and taking a look-out. But only a few minutes had passed when Tim, from behind his rock, called:
"It's old Mollendo, Father."
"Take care you don't call him that in the hearing of his men. It would be a deadly insult. Better call him 'excellency.' I wonder what has happened."
They returned to the track, and trotted downhill to meet the horsemen. There was about them an air of depression which did not escape Mr. O'Hagan. The explanation confirmed his foreboding.
"Good-day, señor," said Mollendo, with a graceful salutation as they met. "I grieve to say that you behold me a fugitive."