“Un papelaio, mi amo,” respectfully answered Pepe, as he presented a folded note to the young man, and then resumed his former position as it was being perused.
Luisa’s eyes were fixed upon her brother’s face, and the change in it was so sudden and strange, that she could not suppress an exclamation of alarm. His face blanched to an ashen white, and his form shook as though he had an ague-fit, while there was a wild, half-crazed glare in his eyes, that frightened her, she scarce knew why. But the sound of her voice recalled Felipe to his senses, and with an effort he regained his composure sufficiently to speak coherently.
“It is nothing, Luisa, darling. It is from an old friend that I thought was dead, and the unexpected sight of his name shocked me; that is all,” he muttered, as stooping, he pressed a kiss upon her cheek. “But, Pepe, where is the gentleman who gave you this; I must see him,” he added, as he saw that the vaquero still stood at the door.
“He awaits you at the first clump of magueys on the arroyo maduro, senor, just below the ford. I met him there and he asked me to give you el papelaio. But pardon, master, shall I not go with you? He is a wild, rough-looking person, more like a salteador than an honest man,” urged the vaquero.
“No, Pepe; he means no mischief, and even if he did, it is not one man who would get the better of me,” laughed Felipe, but it was in a constrained manner. “Go now, and saddle Peralta, and fasten him at the gate. I will be there in five minutes. Come, Luisa, let us return to the house,” he added, taking her arm and leaving the arbor.
“Felipe—brother, do not go to that man. I know that something dreadful will happen if you do,” pleaded Luisa.
“But I must go, or he would come here, and—”
“But that would be better; then where there were so many around, he would not harm you,” interrupted the maiden, eagerly.
“Not for the world would—I mean it would not be pleasant, sister; at least, just at present,” stammered Felipe. “And there is no danger. Besides, I shall go armed. So say no more about it, and when I come back we will laugh heartily over your foolish fancies,” he added, lightly.
Luisa said no more, for she saw that he was determined to go, and in a few moments he was in the saddle, well armed, and galloping swiftly toward the point designated. As he rode up, he uttered the shrill, thrilling whistle of the red-tailed hawk, and in a few moments the signal was answered from the grove of moquet, and a horseman rode from out among the underbrush that surrounded the tall plants.