But what roar was this that met their ears as they neared the grove of cottonwood trees through which the road to the ford ran,—a dull strong roar as of the rushing of many waters? Felipe recognised it, and on the instant his heart felt like lead in his breast.
"Valgame Dios, Josefa!" said he, "I believe the river is up. Oh! what luck! what luck!"
CHAPTER XI MY DUCATS AND MY DAUGHTER
The grey dawn that awoke the household of the cacique did so to some purpose. "Josefa," called the step-mother as she arose, "Josefa"—but no answer came. "Why, where can she be?" exclaimed the Indian woman, looking round and calling her other daughters. Salvador himself rushed into the inner room to look for her. In a moment he sprang out again.
"She has gone!" he shouted. "She has got through the trap-door and escaped. Oh, the wretch!"
"Where can she be?" wondered his wife helplessly.
"Where can she be?" he echoed scornfully. "Why, with that pauper scoundrel of a Felipe. I know her. Oh, I'll make her pay for this!"
He seized his revolver and slipped his belt through the loop of its case, and grasping a horsewhip he darted from the house. The rest of the family followed him somewhat timidly, anxious to see what was going to happen, wishing, perhaps, that he would punish her a little for not being so good and steady as they were, hoping, too, to intervene and save her from the extremity of his passion, for they knew how pitiless he was when roused.