“It is not the first time he has met me, but never before did he venture to touch me, although he said horrible, dreadful things,” murmured the girl, hiding her face and sobbing.
“But his name?” repeated Sayosa, a little sternly.
“I do not know it, but I saw him first at the fandango last month. You remember? He came up and spoke to you.”
“Ha, I suspected it!” exclaimed the young miner. “Was there no mark by which you would know him; on his face, I mean?”
“Yes; a small, dark-blue spot just over his eye—the left, I think.”
“Go on; tell me all. It is as I thought; and I spared his life, the cursed hound!” gritted Sayosa.
“He met me first about two weeks after that, and spoke in a way that frightened me; as if he—loved me—”
“And you never told me?” demanded the miner, a little sternly.
“Pardon me, Marcos; I was afraid. You know how brave you are, and I thought if you knew, you might get hurt,” pleaded Carlita. Then, as he did not speak, she continued more rapidly: “Once afterward I saw him, and he spoke the same, but I left him without an answer. Then to-day I was walking along the arroyo, wondering why you did not come, when he suddenly stepped before me, and as I turned to run, he frightened me so, he caught hold of my arm and held me fast. Then he said something worse than all, that I thought would kill me, and as I screamed he caught me in his arms and tried to drag me away, when you came.”
“I understand; but, Carlita, darling, you did very wrong in not telling me when he first insulted you, and then this would not have happened. He is a dissolute, unprincipled villain, and I shudder at what might have been your fate if I had not arrived as I did,” chided Sayosa. “But come, let us go to the house. Is tio Tomas at home?”