"But the Señor must have the letter, Uncle Adan," she persisted.
"Very well, then, child, carry it yourself. There is no one else to go."
"Is there anything that I can ride, Uncle Adan?"
"Caramba! muchacha! Castaño, certainly. Can you saddle him your—or, no! I forgot. No, Agueda; there is nothing."
"The brown bull? The letter may be important."
"The brown bull has gone to the Port of Entry for tobacco for the Señor Don Noé. No, there is nothing, child; you must walk if you will go. For me, I would leave the letter on the table in the Señor's room. That would be best."
Agueda went quickly back to the house. She took the old straw from its peg in her closet, put it upon her head without one glance at the little mirror on the wall, and ran quickly down the veranda steps. The way seemed long to her. She was not feeling strong; an unaccustomed weight dragged upon her health and spirits. All at once she saw, as if a picture had been held up to her view, that future which must be hers, toward which she was so quickly hastening. A few months—ah, God! Was it, then, to be with her as with all those others whom she had held in partial contempt—a pitying contempt, it is true, but none the less contempt.
The distance seemed long to her. Time had been when she would have thought a run over to the palm grove a mere nothing, but now every step was a penance to both body and mind.
When Agueda reached the hill, she walked slowly. The day was hot, as tropical days in the valley are apt to be. She moved languidly up the hill. Arrived at the top, there was nothing to reward her gaze but the form of Don Noé, asleep under a tree; Palandrez sitting by, waving a large palm branch to keep the insects away. At a little distance the dying embers of the picnic fire paled in the sun. The place was otherwise bare of people or servants. Under the shade of some coffee bushes stood the grey and the chestnut, but of their riders nothing was to be seen. When Palandrez saw Agueda coming he put his finger on his lip. She approached him and held out the letter. He made a half motion to rise, but did not spring to his feet, as he formerly would have done at the approach of the house mistress.
"I have a letter for the Señor, Palandrez," said Agueda. "I wish that you take it to him at once."