CHAPTER IX

The Maid—the Robber—the Race.

The reader will remember that we left Sanchez at the house of Signor Castro, whither he had ridden with speed, upon hearing the directions given to convey Monteagle to the solitary hut, with the whereabouts of which he was well acquainted.

Leaping from his horse, Sanchez merely cast the reins upon his neck, and the well trained animal stood almost motionless awaiting the return of his rider.

Upon entering the house the first inquire of Sanchez was for his young mistress, Donna Inez. She had gone to the Mission Church, to attend the vesper services, and had not yet returned.

Again Sanchez was in the saddle, and in a few moments reached the square fronting the rude antique edifice in which many generations of Californians have been christened, wedded and buried. Here he again dismounted, entered the church, and catching the eye of his mistress, motioned her to follow him, and then withdrew from the church. No sooner had they passed from beneath the sacred roof, than Sanchez related to her all that he had witnessed on the beach, when Monteagle was seized.

The youthful maiden’s lovely cheek now paled till it was white as alabaster, then crimsoned till its flush rivalled the ruddiest rose, as she listened to the rude but graphic description given by Sanchez of the violent seizure of the gallant youth who had bravely rushed into the flames and saved her from a dreadful death.

Donna Inez directed Sanchez to go to a small hotel, on a road that leads into the Mission Plaza, and inquire for one Joaquin. If he saw him, he was to say the lady desired to meet him instantly, at her father’s residence.

Sanchez did the bidding of his young mistress with due diligence. He found Joaquin busy at a game of billiards; but no sooner did he receive the message than throwing down his cue he rushed to the door, and leaped into the saddle of a splendid looking horse, which was quietly standing untied at the door. Bidding Sanchez to follow, Joaquin struck the spurs deep into the flanks of his fiery steed, and proceeded at a gallop towards the dwelling of Signor Castro.

When Joaquin arrived in front of the mansion, he found the young and lovely lady standing in the portico. She was attired in the rich garb of a Mexican cavalier. But neither the large topped boots, nor the ample poncho could disguise the matchless symmetry of that perfect form: rich in every grace that renders woman resistless. Her rounded bosom heaved wildly beneath the folds of her poncho as Joaquin lifted his hat before her, at the same moment reining in his foaming steed with such a sudden and powerful effort, that the spirited animal was forced down almost on his haunches.

‘_Buenos noches_, Donna Inez,’ said the robber, for such he was, respectfully.

‘Thank you—thank you, Joaquin, for your promptness. You are indeed grateful,’ said Donna Inez.

‘My dear lady,’ replied Joaquin, ‘give me I beg of you, an opportunity to prove my gratitude in some more difficult shape than in riding a short distance on a fine evening.’

‘I will Joaquin. I desire this night, to have your aid in an enterprise full of difficulty; nay, of absolute danger,’ said Inez.

‘Danger!’ cried the robber, and his bright black eyes dilated and sparkled like those of a war-horse when the clangor of trumpets smites his ear. ‘Let the enterprise be full of danger and I will execute it for the danger’s sake—much more willingly however, if I also serve you, my dear, my noble young lady. Oh, never can be effaced from my heart your kindness to my poor, darling Carmencitto, after those fiends had—’ the robber paused, his swarthy visage became of ashy hue, and his strong frame trembled with some violent emotion. ‘Enough of this—I live but for two purposes—gratitude to you, and revenge on them hell-born villains—then welcome death in any shape; for what have I more to do in this world, when my poor Carmencitto lies in her cold grave?’

Inez, who knew how cruelly this man had been treated, waited ere she again addressed him. When he became somewhat calmer, she said:

‘Joaquin, some villains have seized the brave young man who saved my life, and carried him to the lone hut over among the sand-hills. I am determined to rescue him, and need your aid, and that of some of your friends.’

‘Most willingly,’ replied Joaquin, and placing a small silver bugle to his lips he blew two notes, so sharp and loud that their echoes could be heard reverberating from the distant hills. But awakening the echoes were not the only effect. In a few moments, coming from different directions, nearly a dozen horsemen could be seen drawing towards the spot where the sounds proceeded.

Meanwhile, Sanchez, in obedience to the directions of his mistress had saddled her favorite horse, and led him to the front of the house; when Inez, declining assistance, vaulted lightly into the richly mounted saddle _en cavalier_, and as the fiery animal bounded and curvetted, her full but exquisitely moulded limbs yielded gracefully to each movement of the animal she bestrode, while she tried to check his impatience by patting his coal black neck with her little hand, whiter than the pearls that zoned her taper fingers, and speaking to him in those soft endearing expressions of which the Spanish is so full.

No sooner had the horsemen, summoned by the bugle of Joaquin, all assembled, than they started at a brisk pace, led by Sanchez, through the bridle-path that led in the direction of the hut.

It was the approach of this party which induced the gang who had captured Monteagle, to leave the hut in such haste.

Monteagle was so exceeding weak when he reached the spot where the horses of the thieves were tied, that, even had he wished to do so, he could not have retained his seat, in the saddle a moment. So, after placing him astride a horse, they lashed him in his seat with one of those ever-present and ever-useful lariats.

No sooner was this done than away they started in the direction of the Presidio Road, the pursuing foe, being less then a third of a mile behind them.

‘Who the deuce can they be?’ said Blodget, who rode on one side of Monteagle, to Jimmy, who rode on the other side.

‘It’s more nor I can conceive,’ replied Jimmy.

‘They can’t be police, nor even the vigilance committee, or why come from the Mission instead of the city?’ said Blodget.

‘They surely can’t be a pleasure party,’ replied Jimmy. ‘For the huntsman of Howth, that followed a hare to h—l, wouldn’t gallop over those sand-hills for fun.’

‘And most certainly not at such an hour,’ said Blodget. ‘’Tis very, very strange. They still follow us,’ he continued, as he turned in the saddle, and looked back at the approaching party.

By this time they had gained the road that—running almost parallel with the shore of the Bay—passed the Presidio, and went on toward the rugged promontory which forms one side of the famous Golden Gate.

For a few moments they proceeded on in silence; occasionally glancing back to see if the party that so alarmed them, continued the pursuit. What they had thus far feared was soon turned to certainty, for they saw the whole party, numbering nearly a dozen, emerge from the shrubbery, turn into the road, and follow after them at a good round pace.

‘As long as we keep this distance from them, don’t force your horses, and we may yet contrive to escape them. Their nags must be pretty well blown, as they had a long ride before they reached the hut; and ours started fresh, after a good long rest,’ said Blodget to his companions.

Leaving the gang of thieves to pursue their way, let us return to Inez and the party accompanying her.

‘They have all left the hut,’ said Sanchez, as they drew near it, ‘and I think that is the young American, between the two that ride in advance of the party.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, let us spur on, and save him. Who knows what bloody purpose is in their cruel hearts!’ cried Inez.

‘We must spare our horses over this uneven ground, if we hope to catch the villains,’ replied Joaquin.

‘Be it as you say,’ rejoined the maiden, reluctantly checking her eager steed who seemed impatient to leap forward.

While these conversations were proceeding, both parties had reached a fine piece of level ground that stretched away before them in the direction of the Presidio.

‘Now,’ cried Joaquin, ‘urge your horses to the utmost!’ and suiting the action to the words, his long spurs were buried into the side of his charger, who bounded forward like lightning.

Keeping leap for leap with his fleet steed was the gallant animal that bore Inez on his back, while the rest of the party were but a few rods in the rear. The vigilant Blodget soon observed that the pursuers had increased their speed, and were fast lessening the distance between them.

‘Let your horses do their d—est!’ cried the profane fellow, as he struck the rowels deep into the already bleeding sides of his courser.

His followers quickly obeyed his commands, and the pursuers and the pursued were soon scouring over the plain, at the very utmost speed of their respective horses.

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