Now they had reached the fence, and because of the caballero’s whispered threats the señora managed to climb it. They came to where the horses were tethered, and there the caballero commanded silence while he listened again, fearing someone might have found the horses and was waiting to see who would claim them.
“That steed will be yours, señora,” he said, pointing it out.
“I cannot ride,” she moaned.
“Then here is where you acquire that accomplishment, señora, else here is where you die. It desolates me that there is not a lady’s saddle on the mount, but it was impossible to provide one. However, the night is dark——”
“Ride a man’s saddle? Never!” the señora gasped.
“Then I am quit of one trouble, and the horse will not be needed, since I mean to carry the señorita on mine.”
“Ah, señor, for the love of the saints——”
“Mount, señora! Up, as I aid you! We cannot remain here until dawn!”
In imagination she saw him reach toward his belt, and fear gave her strength. Señora Vallejo got into the man’s saddle, and bent forward to grasp the horse’s mane, feeling as much fear for the animal as for the man.
“Do not strangle him, señora,” the caballero suggested lightly, and sprang into his own saddle, with Señorita Anita before him.