CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

  VA CON DIOS.

  In a rush Aguara goes, fast as his animal can be urged by heel andvoice. For, while so roughly separating the two girls, these hadshouted in alarm, and his ear had caught other cries raised at adistance, and as if responsive. Now he hears them again; men's voices,and mingling with them the trampling of hoofs--clearly several horsescoming on in a gallop. She, he has in his arms, hears them too, butlistens not in silence or unresisting. Instead, she struggles andshrieks, calling "Help, help!" with the names "Ludwig, Cypriano,Gaspar!"

  She is heard by all three; for it is they who responded to the cries ofherself and Nacena, knowing who gave utterance to them. Near they arenow, and riding as in a race; they, too, pressing their horses to utmostspeed. But the darkness is against them, as their ignorance of theground, with which the man pursued is familiar. By this, at every step,they are obstructed; and but for the screams of Francesca, stillcontinued, might as well abandon the chase for any chance they have ofovertaking him.

  And overtake him they never would, nor could, were fortune not in theirfavour. An accident it may appear; at the same time seeming a divineretribution for wrong--a very Nemesis in the path of the wicked Aguara.On returning past the spot where he had struck down Shebotha's slave, hesees the unfortunate man stretched along the ground, and, to allappearance, still insensible. Nought cares he for that, but his horsedoes; and, at sight of the prostrate form, the animal, with a snort ofaffright, shies to one side, and strikes off in a new direction. Goingat so swift a pace, and in such a dim light, in a few bounds it entersamong some bushes, where it is brought up standing. Before its ridercan extricate it, a strong hand has hold of it by the head, with a thumbinserted into its nostrils, while the fingers of another are clutchingat his own throat. The hand on the horse's muzzle is that of Caspar thegaucho, the fingers that grope to get a gripe on the rider's neck beingthose of Cypriano.

  It is a crisis in the life of the young Tovas _cacique_, threateningeither death or captivity. But subtle as all Indians are, and base asany common fellow of his tribe, instead of showing a bold front, heeludes both, by letting go the captive girl, himself slipping to theground, and, snake like, gliding off among the bushes.

  On the other side of his horse, which he has also abandoned, Francescafalls into the arms of her brother, who embraces her with wild delight.Though not wilder, nor half so thrilling, as that which enraptures theear of Cypriano--to whose arms she is on the instant after transferred.

  But it is not a time for embraces, however affectionate, nor words to bewasted in congratulation. So Gaspar tells them, while urging instantdeparture from that perilous spot.

  "Our lucky star's gone up again," he says, with a significant nod toAguara's horse, which he has still hold of. "There is now four of us;and as I take it this brisk little _musteno_ is fairly our property,there'll be no need for any of us riding double--to say nothing of onehaving a witch behind his back. Without such incumbrance, it'll be somuch the better for the saving of time; which at this present momentpresses, with not the hundredth part of a second to spare. So _hijosmios_, and you, _hija mia querida_, let us mount and be off!"

  While the gaucho is yet thus jocularly delivering himself, Cypriano haslifted his cousin, Francesca, to the back of the _cacique's_ abandonedsteed; on which he well knows she can keep her seat, were it the wildestthat ever careered across _campo_. Then he remounts his own, the othertwo taking to their saddles at the same time.

  A word about the route, and all four start together; not to go backalong the trail towards the _ceiba_ tree, but striking straight out forthe open plain, in a direction which Gaspar conjectures to be the rightone.

  They would willingly diverge from it to ascertain whether the poorcreature clubbed by Aguara be dead or still living; and, if the latter,take him along. But Gaspar urges the danger of delay; above all, beingburdened with a man not only witless, but now in all likelihood disabledby a wound which would make the transporting him an absoluteimpossibility.

  Ludwig and his sister are more desirous to turn aside, and learn how itis with Nacena. But again the gaucho, no: greatly given to sentiment,objects. Luckily, as if to relieve them from all anxiety, just thenthey hear a voice, which all recognise as that of the Tovas belle,calling out in tolerably pure Castilian:--

  "_Va con Dios_!"

  Standing up in his stirrups, with a shout and counter salute, the gauchoreturns the valediction; then, spurring forward and placing himself atthe head of the retreating party, they ride on, with no thought of againhalting so long as their horses can keep their feet.