"Querida, farewell! I must leave you--do not despair. If I die, I
shall carry your love to heaven! Farewell, farewell!"
These words were uttered in the parting haste of the moment, and he had
sprung away so suddenly that he did not hear the answering farewell.
The moment he was gone the lady dropped to her knees, and with hands
clasped, and eyes raised to heaven, offered her prayer for his safety.
Half-a-dozen springs brought Carlos once more under the shadow of the
grove. He saw his foes on the opposite bank, and from their voices he
could tell there were many of them. They were talking loudly and
shouting directions to one another. He could distinguish the voice of
Roblado above the rest. He was calling upon some of the men to dismount
and follow him over the bridge. He was himself on foot, for the purpose
of crossing.
Carlos saw no other prospect of escape than by making a quick rush
across the bridge, and cutting his way through the crowd. By that means
he might reach the open plain, and fight his way until his horse could
come up. Once in the saddle he would have laughed at their attempts to
take him. It was a desperate resolve,--a perilous running of the
gauntlet,--almost certain death; but still more certain death was the
alternative if he remained where he was.
There was no time for hesitation. Already several men had dismounted,
and were making towards the bridge. He must cross before they had
reached it; one was already upon it. He must be beaten back.
Carlos, cocking his pistol, rushed forward to the gate. The man had
reached it from the other side. They met face to face, with the gate
still shut between them. Carlos saw that his antagonist was Roblado
himself!
Not a word was spoken between them. Roblado also had his pistol in
readiness and fired first, but missed his aim. He perceived this, and,
dreading the fire from his adversary, he staggered back to the bank,
shouting to his followers to discharge their carbines.
Before they could obey the order, the crack of the cibolero's pistol
rang upon the air, and Roblado, with a loud oath, rolled down by the
edge of the water. Carlos dashed open the gate, and was about to rush
onward, when he perceived through the smoke and darkness several
carbines brought to the level, and aimed at him. A sudden thought came
into his mind, and he changed his design of crossing the bridge. The
time was but the pulling of a trigger, but, short as it was, he effected
his purpose. The carbines blazed and cracked, all nearly at the same
instant, and when the smoke cleared away Carlos was no longer on the
bridge! Had he gone back into the garden? No--already half-a-dozen men
had cut off his retreat in that direction!
"He is killed!" cried several voices, "Carajo!--he has fallen into the
river! _Mira_!"
All eyes were turned upon the stream. Certainly a body had plunged into
it, as the bubbles and circling waves testified, but only these were to
be seen! "He has sunk! he's gone to the bottom!" cried some.
"Be sure he hasn't swum away!" counselled a voice; and several ran along
the banks with their eyes searching the surface.
"Impossible! there are no waves."
"He could not have passed here," said one who stood a little below the
bridge. "I have been watching the water."
"So have I," cried another from above. "He has not passed my position."
"Then he is dead and gone down!"
"Carajo! let us fish him out!" And they were proceeding to put this
idea into execution, when Roblado, who had now got to his feet, finding
that a wounded arm was all he had suffered, ordered them to desist.
"Up and down!" he thundered; "scatter both ways--quick, or he may yet
escape us. Go!"
The men did as they were ordered, but the party who turned down-stream
halted through sheer surprise. The figure of a man was seen, in a bent
attitude and crawling up the bank, at the distance of a hundred yards
below. The next moment it rose into an erect position, and glided over
the plain with lightning speed, in the direction of the copse of timber!
"_Hola_!" exclaimed several voices; "yonder he goes! _Por todos
santos_, it is he!"
Amidst the cracking of carbines that followed, a shrill whistle was
heard; and before any of the mounted men could ride forward, a horse was
seen shooting out from the copse and meeting the man upon the open
meadow! Quick as thought the latter vaulted into the saddle, and after
uttering a wild and scornful laugh galloped off, and soon disappeared in
the darkness!
Most of the dragoons sprang upon their horses and followed; but after a
short gallop over the plain they gave up the chase, and one by one
returned to their wounded leader.
To say that Roblado was furious would be to characterise very faintly
the state he was in. But he had still one captive on which to vent his
rage and chagrin.
Catalina had been captured in the garden,--taken while praying for the
safe escape of her lover. Jose had remained in charge of her, while the
rest rushed down to assist in the capture of Carlos, at which Jose,
knowing the cibolero as he did, and not being over brave, evinced no
desire to be present.
Catalina heard the shots and shouts that denoted the terrible struggle.
She had heard, too, the shrill whistle and the scornful laugh that rang
loudly above the din. She had heard the shouts of the pursuers dying
away in the distance.
Her heart beat with joy. She knew that her lover was free!
She thought then, and then only, of herself. She thought, too, of
escape. She knew the rude taunts she would have to listen to from the
brutal leader of these miscreants. What could she do to avoid an
encounter? She had but one to deal with--Jose. She knew the despicable
character of the man. Would gold tempt him? She would make the trial.
It was made, and succeeded. The large sum offered was irresistible.
The villain knew that there could be no great punishment for letting go
a captive who could at any time be taken again. He would risk the
chances of his captain's displeasure for such a sum. His captain might
have reasons for not dealing too severely with him. The purse was paid,
and the lady was allowed to go.
She was to close the door, locking it from the inside, as though she had
escaped by flight; and this direction of Jose was followed to the
letter.
As Roblado crossed the bridge he was met by the soldier, who, breathless
and stammering, announced that the fair prisoner had got into the house.
She had slipped from his side and ran off. Had it been an ordinary
captive, he could have fired upon her, but he was unable to overtake her
until she had passed the door, which was closed and locked before he
could get near.
For a moment Roblado hesitated whether to "storm the house." His rage
almost induced him to the act. He reflected, however, that the
proceeding might appear somewhat ridiculous and could not much better
his position; besides, the pain of his wounded arm admonished him to
retire from the field.
He re-crossed the bridge, was helped upon his horse, and, summoning
around him his valiant troop, he rode back to the Presidio--leaving the
roused town to conjecture the cause of the alarm.