He leaned against the trunk of a young live-oak and stared at her with a derisive smile in the smoke-black eyes.
"Yes, the Virgin sent me," he said at last, "and she came near sending me too late. The trail is bad along La Christienita for the night-time, and the night is close. The man will take you back to your friends."
"But you, father? You come to the carriage and see the mother of Rafael—no? They wait for us. Doña Luisa is so very old; she will be anxious till she speak with me—and with you."
She arose and held out her hand. He regarded her strangely, and shook his head.
"The men have other work than to camp with a pleasure party. I stay on this side and have far to travel before sunrise. This once I talk with you—maybe nevermore, and to San Juan you take one message for Rafael Arteaga."
"A message? Yes?"
"Tell him Felipe Estevan's daughter has saved to him this once a treasure; but no woman can guard him always, for—El Capitan is never too far to come quickly!"
"Oh—Capitan?" she said with sudden comprehension. "I was told at San Luis Rey how much he is the enemy of Rafael. But it must not be, father. Cannot we help that? I have heard of Capitan from an old soldier of the wars, who told me all I know of my father: he was a brave boy and—he fought beside my father. I remembered that when I passed his mother's grave at San Luis Rey—it will never be bare and forgotten again—never! I planted it thick with the passion-vine. Doña Luisa tells me she was a great woman. She prays that some day the two cousins may be friends."
"Doña Luisa prays for what only the good God could make happen," said the priest, grimly. "But of course all things are possible to the good God, even in the land which God forgot. Fidele is waiting."
He made a movement toward the Mexican holding her horse, and without further words mounted another animal himself, and galloped away along the fringe of trees skirting the cañon. Several of the others followed. Only three remained to watch Fidele pilot his charge across the ford, where the ford was safe though deep; and once her animal's feet touched the opposite bank, her attendant, with a sweep of sombrero, but no words, wheeled his own horse and fell in line after his comrades, who were disappearing one by one toward the mountains.