“Where did you leave your mistress?” inquired Don Rafael, as they rode on.
“In truth, sir,” replied the domestic, “I was so confused when she left me, that I did not think of reminding her to fly to Del Valle. I only told her to make into the woods near San Carlos. But the most important matter was for her to get out of the reach of Arroyo; and I hope she will be safe in the chapparal. Poor young creature! She was so happy this morning. She was expecting on this very night the arrival of her father and sister—neither of whom she has seen for a long time.”
The Colonel could not hinder himself from shuddering.
“Are you sure that it is to-night that Don Mariano and Doña Gertrudis are expected at San Carlos?” he inquired, with a tone of anxiety in his voice.
“Yes; a letter had reached my master to say so. God forbid that they, too, should fall into the hands of these merciless men! They say, too, that Arroyo is an old servant of Don Mariano.”
“Let us hope they may not come!” said the Colonel, with a choking effort.
“It may be,” continued the domestic, “that the illness of Doña Gertrudis may detain them a day or two on the journey. That would be the luckiest thing that could happen.”
“What say you? is Doña Gertrudis ill!”
“Señor!” exclaimed the domestic, “you, who appear to know the family, are you ignorant that Doña Gertrudis is only the shadow of her former self, and that some secret grief is wasting her away? But, Señor, why do you tremble?” inquired the man, who, with his arm round his waist, felt the nervous agitation of Don Rafael’s body.
“Oh, nothing,” replied the latter; “but tell me—does any one know the cause of her grief?”