“No,” he said, “but I can go by the mountain train at four; and ride from Melchior, it is only sixty-seven miles. If I telegraph for horses, I can be at home by dusk to-morrow night. That will save five hours.”
“You must go at once, if you are to catch the four train,” Carlotta said. “I’ll drive you to the station.”
“We will go, then,” Manuel said. “While they bring the chaise, I’ll order horses; you shall send the telegrams when I am gone.”
* * * * * * *
As Don Manuel made his farewells, he took Hi’s hand in both his own hands. “My greetings to your father,” he said. “Tell him I remember the saddles. I shall expect you presently at my home.”
“You will stay with us, will you not?” Carlotta said.
“I would love to,” Hi said. “I would love it more than anything.”
They all went out of doors to see them start. Carlotta was driving two marvellous little horses, full of fire. Hi looking at her as she sat watching her horses, felt that the only possible happiness on earth would be to live and die for her; since everything about her was beautiful and came not from this world. He saw that all there thought as he thought and felt as he felt about her. “You beautiful and gracious and glorious thing,” he thought. “I wish I could die for you.”
The peones stepped from the horses’ heads, the gates opened, the horses strained to the collars and the marvellous girl was gone. Often, afterwards, he thought of that scene.
“I trust that he may find his mother alive,” Donna Emilia said.