All this gave me only passing interest, for I was not in the humor to observe matters that failed to immediately concern my affairs.
Carmencita—was she here?
We walked full in the light, so that we might be readily seen by any one on the watch.
The move was rewarded, for I saw a figure dart out from behind a gargoyle that marked one portion of the cathedral front.
It was the girl.
She could not restrain her ecstasy, and gave a little scream of delight as she pounced upon Hildegarde, kissing her hand and wetting it with her tears.
Bless her heart! She had never known so good and loving a mistress, and I was not the one to blame her for showing emotion.
It was not my desire to linger.
The tumult kept raging, and I knew I was needed at the front—Hildegarde was safe, and, as Robbins said, I owed something to “the boys,” as he called them, whose uprising an hour before the time appointed had rendered our escape possible.
So I begged Carmencita to lead the way to where she meant to keep her mistress, incidentally declaring myself eager to return and assist her compatriots to victory.