"But the bullet has found no vital part. Here it is, lodged in the muscles under the arm," the friar soon announced cheeringly.
Immediately Carmelita returned, her face speaking joy, her lips silent.
"With good care our caballero will recover. Thank God!"
"Thank God!" repeated the girl, her throat hardly vocalizing the words.
"And now, señorita, mia, may we trouble thee for more water? Our pitcher lacks size, therefore must it go often to the well."
Morando drank eagerly, with the thirst of the wounded. Refreshed, he tried to move to a sitting posture. The padre gently restrained him.
"Not yet, my friend. A little more rest."
Morando again closed his eyes.
"I forgot to send you word to-day, padre," from the señorita.
"Word came, nevertheless, doña. My men cross-tracked the renegades in the hills above us and are now chasing them."