The girl had ceased moaning some time before, but the caballero did not remove the scarf. Though he could not see because of the darkness, he sensed that her eyes were flashing angrily and that yet she did not trust him fully, did not believe he was making this rescue in good faith.
He urged his horse forward, and bent over to catch the rein of Señora Vallejo’s animal, and so moved away from the fence, guiding his own mount with his knees, holding the girl and leading the steed that the señora clutched violently by the mane, expecting every moment to be hurled to the ground.
They made a great circle, getting a butte between themselves and the rancho, and then the caballero urged the animals into a trot. No fear of death could stay Señora Vallejo’s tongue then. Two shrieks came from her throat in quick succession so like Indian wails that the caballero thanked his saints nobody would be attracted by them. But he felt called upon to stop the horses and make a statement.
“Another chirp like that, señora, and your body is found here in the pasture at daybreak,” he warned. “Clutch the horn of the saddle and leave the animal his hair. Bounce, if you will, but do not scream.”
And he started the horses again, and the señora bounced, and though she screamed no more, yet she breathed ladylike imprecations upon the caballero and all horses, no matter of what breed. Faster and faster he urged the steeds, until the señora was in a panic of fear, had given up all hope and expected death momentarily beneath the horse’s hoofs—but clung on, nevertheless.
Now the caballero stopped and listened, and then began unwrapping the scarf from the señorita’s head. She gave a gasp as it fell away, a sob, another moan.
“Señorita!” the caballero said, and his voice was soft again.
“Señorita, will you not speak to me and say that you forgive? There was no other way, believe me, for you were so determined. You did not trust me, and time was short and the danger great. It was to save you.”
“From one shame for another?” she asked.
“Not for all the world would I wrong you, offer you harm, hurt your feelings!” he said. “You do not understand, señorita. Back there at the rancho there was naught but danger for you, no matter what the outcome of this revolt. It is better you are at the mission with decent people, and there I am taking you now. It were better to die there, señorita, with your duenna, and go to death unsullied, than to live and be at the rancho when this revolt is over.”