The man himself seemed to be watching. After a short halt, he rode away and returned, but whether halting or moving he was always on the lookout, and as might appear, keenly expectant.
At length he came our way.
“I do believe—Por Dios it is—Guido Pasto, my own man!” and Carmen, greatly excited, rushed from his hiding-place shouting, “Guido!” at the top of his voice.
I followed him, equally excited but less boisterous.
Guido, recognizing his master’s voice, galloped forward and greeted us warmly, for though he acted as Carmen’s servant he was a free llanero, and expected to be treated as a gentleman and a friend.
“Gracias a Dios!” he said; “I was beginning to fear that we had passed you. Gahra and I have been looking for you all day!”
“That was very good of you; and Señor Fortescue and I owe you a thousand thanks. But where are General Mejia and the army?”
“Near the old place. In a better position, though. But you must not go there—neither of you.”
“We must not go there! But why?”
“Because if you do the general will hang you.”