"Come! come, Evaña!" shouted the others; "we may shoot a few birds as we go back."
"And we have need of special caution just now lest we excite suspicion," said Marcelino.
Evaña stopped, picked up the broken stock, and walked slowly away after the others, every now and then looking back upon the rancho, and never losing sight of it till they were free from the bañado and on the high road for the city.
"Do not let us go on to town yet; let us go to the quinta and see Magdalen," said Evaña to Marcelino, as they reached the Plaza Miserere. "I have forgotten how the tea tastes out of her porcelain cups."
"Let us go," rejoined Marcelino; yet his eye did not brighten as he acceded to the proposition of his friend, and something very like a sigh issued from his lips.
"My brother, you are sad," said Evaña, stretching out his hand and laying it upon his shoulder. "Do Magdalen's grey eyes look less kindly upon you than they did formerly."
"Magdalen's grey eyes never look upon me now, Carlos. She shuns me, all our old intimacy is at an end. What I have done to offend her I do not know, for I have spoken to her and she refuses me any explanation."
"Let us follow the others," said Evaña.
"No, let us go on," replied Marcelino; "she will talk to you, and her voice is music to me still."
They found Magdalen alone, seated by the fireside, busily sewing. Her eyes brightened for a moment as they fell upon Don Carlos Evaña, who was the first to enter the room, but the light in them died away as she saw Marcelino enter behind him. In silence she stretched out her hand to each of them, without rising from her chair.