“But, señora, there is one other paper among them.––I would have told you yesterday if I had known your fear. I meant to wait until the trail was ended, but–––”
“Señor!” she breathed leaning toward him, her great eyes glowing with dreadful question, “Señor!”
“I know the paper, for I signed it,” said Kit staring in the leaping blaze. “So did the padre. It is the certificate of the burial of José Perez.”
“Señor! Madre de Dios!” she whispered.
“Death reached him on his own land, señora. We passed the grave the first day of the trail.”
Her face went very white as she made the sign of the cross.
“Then he––Ramon–––?”
“No,––the general did not see Perez on the trail. He tried to escape from Cavayso and the man sent a bullet to stop him. It was the end.”
She shuddered and covered her eyes.
Kit got up and walked away. He looked back from where he tethered the mules for the night, but she had not moved. The little crucifix was in her hand, he thought she was praying. There were no more words to be said, and he did not go near her again that night. He sent Clodomiro with her serape and pillow, and when the fire died down to glowing ash, she arose and went to the couch prepared. She went without glance to right or left––the great fear had taken itself away!