The other two horses, having larger and somewhat coarser saddles, are evidently designed for gentlemen; so that the cavalcade will be symmetrically composed—two and two of each sex.
The gentlemen have not yet put in an appearance; but who they are may be learnt from the dialogue passing between the two ladies. From their elevated, position they can see the rapidly growing city of San Francisco, and the shipping in its harbour—north-east, and a little to their left. But there are several vessels riding at anchor out in front of them; one a warship, towards which the eyes of both keep continuously turning, as though they expected a boat soon to put off from her side.
As yet none such has been seen; and, withdrawing her gaze from the warship, Iñez opens the conversation by a question—
“Is it really true that we’re going back to Spain?”
She has been in California only a short time, since the death of her father and mother, which placed her under the guardianship of Don Gregorio. But though here, lovers have been all the while sighing around her, she longs to return to her dear Andalusia. Therefore has she asked the question with more than a common interest.
“Quite true;” says Carmen, giving the answer, “and I’m sorry it is so.”
“Why should you be sorry?”
“There are many reasons.”
“Give one.”
“I could give twenty.”