Jaquelina saw that Bowles trembled at the stern anger of his chief.
"Captain, I humbly beg your pardon," he said. "I caught this girl riding a fine black mare through the woods, and attempted a harmless joke upon her, on which she flew at me like a little tigress and belabored me with her riding-whip. I was so enraged at her impudence that I whipped upon the mare's back and brought the little wretch here to you to tell me how to punish her."
A low laugh actually rippled over the stern, sad lips of the robber chief. He looked at Jaquelina where she stood in the center of the apartment, the rain-drops falling from her drenched garments upon the rich crimson carpet in shining little pools, the wet curls clinging to her white brow; her face pale as death, her slight form trembling with cold and terror.
The laugh died suddenly on his lips, his dark eyes flashed through the openings in his mask.
"For shame, Bowles," he said, sharply. "How dared you assault a woman? We make no war upon such."
"Orders were to take every fine animal that passed," Bowles said, half-apologetically, yet sullenly.
"Animals, yes, but not human beings, least of all helpless females. I never counted upon such passing. What were you, a mere slip of a girl, doing on horseback in the woods at the dead hour of night?" he inquired, looking curiously at Jaquelina.
"I went to call the doctor to a sick child," she answered.
"Where were all the men of your family and neighborhood that you were permitted to take such a lonely and perilous midnight ride?" inquired the outlaw chief, again fixing his dark eyes upon her in surprise, not unmixed with suspicion.
Jaquelina flushed hotly beneath that look.