Seeing no one among the fruit-trees and flowerbeds, she began to despair; but the thick grove at the bottom of the garden gave her promise—that was a likely place of meeting—capital for such a purpose, as the mestiza, experienced in such matters, well knew.
To approach the grove, however, presented a difficulty. There was a space of open ground—a green parterre—between it and the flowerbeds. Any one, already in the grove, could perceive the approach of another in that direction, and especially under a bright moonlight. This the mestiza saw, and it compelled her to pause and reflect how she was to get nearer.
But one chance seemed to offer. The high adobe wall threw a shadow of some feet along one side of the open ground. In this shadow it might be possible to reach the timber unobserved. The girl resolved to attempt it.
Guided by the instinctive cunning of her race, she dropped down flat upon her breast; and, dragging herself over the grass, she reached the selvedge of the grove, just in the rear of the arbour. There she paused, raised her head, and glanced through the leafy screen that encircled the arbour. She saw what she desired.
Catalina was at this moment upon the bridge, and above the position of the mestiza—so that the latter could perceive her form outlined against the blue of the sky. She saw her hold aloft the white kerchief. She guessed that it was a signal—she saw the flash in answer to it, and then observed her mistress undo the lock and fling the wicket open.
The cunning spy was now sure that the place of meeting was to be the grove itself, and might have returned with that information; but Roblado had distinctly ordered her not to leave until she saw the meeting itself, and was certain of the spot. She therefore remained where she was, and awaited the further proceedings of the lovers.
Carlos, on perceiving the signal, had answered it by flashing some powder already prepared. He lost no time in obeying the well-known summons. A single moment by the side of his horse—a whisper which the latter well understood—and he parted from the copse, Cibolo following at his heels.
On reaching the end of the bridge he bent down, and, addressing some words in a low voice to the dog, proceeded to cross over. The animal did not follow him, but lay down on the opposite bank of the stream.
The next moment the lovers were together.
From the spot where she lay the mestiza witnessed their greeting. The moon shone upon their faces—the fair skin and curly locks of Carlos were distinctly visible under the light. The girl knew the cibolero—it was he.