The big sergeant rushed from the house, the men at his heels, and they tumbled into their saddles and rode furiously through the darkness, following the sound of the beating hoofs.
"Lights! Lights!" Don Carlos was shrieking inside the house.
A servant came with a brand, and the candles were lighted again. Don Carlos stood in the middle of the room, shaking his fists in impotent rage. Señorita Lolita crouched in a corner, her eyes wide with fear. Doña Catalina, fully recovered now from her fainting spell, came from her own room to ascertain the cause of the commotion.
"The rascal got away!" Don Carlos said. "It is to be hoped that the soldiers capture him."
"At least, he is clever and brave," Señorita Lolita said.
"I grant him that, but he is a highwayman and a thief!" Don Carlos roared. "Why should he torment me by visiting my house?"
Señorita Lolita thought she knew, but she would be the last one to explain to her parents. There was a faint blush on her face yet because of the arm that had squeezed her and the words that had been whispered in her ear.
Don Carlos threw the front door open wide and stood in it, listening. To his ears came the sound of galloping hoofs once more.
"My sword!" he cried to a servant. "Some one comes—it may be the rascal returning! It is but one rider, by the saints!"