His questioners, however, after a time calming down, listened to his narration in a detailed form, though not without repeated interruptions. He told them about the slow driving of the carriage along the garden wall of San Francisco, the putting on the disguises, and how cleverly they had outwitted the guard at the garita.
“Like Ruperto!” at this juncture exclaimed the Countess.
Then, of their onward course along the calzada, horses in a gallop, till stopped on the Coyoacan road, with the action taken there—quick as it was varied and strange.
Donna Luisa, in her turn, here interrupted in triumphant exclamation—
“Like Florencio!”
In fine, when made known to them how the fugitives had mounted and ridden off, both cried out together, in terms almost the same—
“Thanks to the Virgin, blessed Mother of God! We now know they are safe.”
Their confidence was strengthened by further questioning, for the trusted cochero was able to tell them more. How his horses had been caught, and brought back to him by two Hussars, one of whom he chanced to have a speaking acquaintance with. From the soldier he had learnt all about the pursuit, after it had passed beyond him; how they had searched the chapparal, but fruitlessly; the latest reports being that the éscapados had got into the Pedregal.
That was enough for the Countess, who, springing to her feet and clapping her hands, cried out—
“Joy, Luisita! They’re safe, I’m sure. Ruperto knows the Pedregal, every path through it, as well as we the walks of the Alameda. I shall sleep this night better than the last, and you may do the same.”