“Señora, what is wrong? Where are you going?”
“Going!” She uttered a little laugh. “Why, I don’t know. I followed—to warn you. Bernardo put Tigre on your trail!”
“Tigre? Santa Maria!”
“Yes. I ran, and ran, and passed him. He must be far back now. He’s slow at first, but he’s sure, and he’s trailing you. Hurry on! You mustn’t stop here!”
“Señora! You ran—you risked so much to save me? Oh, may our Blessed Lady reward you!”
“Man, I tell you, don’t stop. Go on! You have only your machete. Why did you start into the jungle without a gun?”
“Bernardo drove me off. I owned nothing at the hacienda except my blanket and machete.”
“He’s selfish—he was beside himself. Why, Augustine, he was jealous. He—he told me he drove you away because you—you cared for me. I’m ashamed to tell you. But, Augustine, he’s growing old. You mustn’t mind—only hurry to get safe from that terrible brute!”
“I forgive him, señora. It’s his way to fall in a rage; but he quickly repents. And you, señora—you must take this old trail back to the hacienda. Go swiftly, for soon it will be night.”
“I’m not going back,” said Muella slowly. “I won’t live any longer with Bernardo. Take me to Micas—to my sister’s home!”