"Will one of the ladies bathe her face and forehead with the liquor?"
Señora Higuera did the service.
Morando was tightly bandaging the injured member with strips torn from handkerchiefs when the patient opened her eyes.
"My arm feels asleep, Don Alfredo," she murmured. "Where am I?"
"With your friends, and safe," replied Morando.
Color gradually came into her face and lips. Her breath no longer fluttered.
"O, the poor little fellow so wanted to save his life that I couldn't see him lose it," she murmured. "The hawk passed blow for blow with me. His talon pricked through my glove."
Word of the mishap had gone to Señor and Señora Barcelo, who were riding in the vanguard of the procession. The complaining of the Barcelo carreta mingled with the puffing of the Colonel's horse as the two raced back.
"O, Silvia! Silvia! What dreadful thing has happened?" wailed Señora Barcelo.
"What has happened is over, sister mine. Thanks to our friends here, and Captain Morando in particular, I am nothing the worse."