CHAPTER XVIII
It was two days later, before the sun was high, that Raquel Arteaga rode into the plaza, and, slipping from her horse, walked directly into the little private chapel and closed the door. From the other wing of the corridor Doña Maria and Doña Angela saw her, and exchanged startled glances. Their hostess had arrived, and had not even cast her eyes in their direction. They were both relieved when Rafael and Señor Downing emerged from the portal of the patio.
"Ah, she has arrived—my wife," remarked Rafael as he noticed her saddle-horse nibbling at the geraniums. "I sent an Indian messenger this morning. He has been quick; and, Santa Maria! so has she. Look at the horse!"
The animal was dripping, and as an Indian boy removed the saddle the water ran down his sides and made little pools in the dust.
"That will do him good," said Rafael. "Rub him well, and he will look like black satin. And the Doña Raquel is—"
"Your wife went to her own chapel; she saw no one," observed Doña Maria. "I should go in, but if she is at prayers—"
“Their Hostess had Arrived”
If she had been, her prayers were ended, for as they spoke she opened the door and came out on the corridor. She was more pale than Rafael had ever seen her, and without greeting to anyone, she spoke.