"Do not weep, my soul," said Don Isidro. "As yet we know nothing positive. Felipe and I met some of the negroes after nightfall, and went back with them to the quinta from which they were driven. There were many dead lying about, and we carried off a great many wounded; every house about there is a hospital. We searched where they said he had fallen—we found the bodies of three negroes, but of him we could find nothing."
"Always we will hope," said the brave lady, rising and wiping away her tears. "To-morrow will be another day."
Just then there came a knock at the outer door, and a loud voice shouted:
"Order from the Señores of the Cabildo. That three lights be placed in every window and a lamp hung in every doorway."
Again the knock was repeated.
"It shall be done," said Don Isidro, running out himself in answer to the summons.
At the Quinta de Ponce the whole household was astir before sunrise on the morning of the 2nd July, roused from sleep by the cries of the female servants and slaves, who had seen Evaristo saddle his pony and gallop off towards town at dawn. Don Roderigo paced anxiously to and fro in the sala, his wife covered with a loose wrapper and with dishevelled hair vainly trying to soothe him.
"Where can that foolish boy have gone to?" said he. "Did he speak to no one before he went?"
"I can tell you, papa," said Dolores, who came in at that moment, "he has gone to join Marcelino; he said he would be with him when the fighting began, and Evaristo always does what he says he will."
"What can he do? a mere boy like him?" said Doña Constancia, clasping her hands and looking tearfully at her husband.