Chapter Forty Nine.
The Lazo Unloosed.
An eagle, scared from its perch on a scathed Cottonwood, with a scream, soars upward into the air.
Startled by the outbreak of angry passions, it has risen to reconnoitre.
A single sweep of its majestic wing brings it above the glade. There, poised on tremulous pinions, with eye turned to earth, it scans both the open space and the chapparal that surrounds it. In the former it beholds that which may, perhaps, be gratifying to its glance—a man thrown from his horse, that runs neighing around him—prostrate—apparently dead. In the latter two singular equestrians: one a woman, with bare head and chevelure spread to the breeze, astride a strong steed, going away from the glade in quick earnest gallop; the other, also a woman, mounted on a spotted horse, in more feminine fashion, riding towards it: attired in hat and habit, advancing at a slower pace, but with equal earnestness in her looks.
Such is the coup d’oeil presented to the eye of the eagle.
Of these fair equestrians both are already known. She galloping away is Isidora Covarubio de los Llanos; she who approaches, Louise Poindexter.
It is known why the first has gone out of the glade. It remains to be told for what purpose the second is coming into it.
After her interview with Zeb Stump, the young creole re-entered her chamber, and kneeling before an image of the Madonna, surrendered her spirit to prayer.
It is needless to say that, as a Creole, she was a Catholic, and therefore a firm believer in the efficacy of saintly intercession. Strange and sad was the theme of her supplication—the man who had been marked as the murderer of her brother!