This was the first hand-to-hand encounter Esteban's men had had,
and their swift victory rendered them ferocious. Flinging their
guns aside, they went crashing into the brush on the trail of
their enemies.
Rosa found herself in her brother's arms, sobbing out the story of
the outrage and quivering at every sound of the chase. He was
caressing her, and telling her to have no further fears; both of
them were fairly hysterical. Even before Esteban had heard all,
Lorenzo, the mulatto, reappeared, leading three cavalry horses and
shouting extravagant praises of his own bravery. Esteban
complimented him and the fellow galloped away again, voicing the
most blood-curdling threats.
Evangelina, thanks to her thick skull, was not dead. In the course
of time under Rosa's and Esteban's ministrations she regained her
senses, and when the other men returned they found her lying sick
and dazed, but otherwise quite whole.
Then, there beside the ruins of the hut, was a strange scene of
rejoicing. Asensio, recovered now from his burst of savagery, was
tearful, compassionate; his comrades laughed and chattered and
bragged about their prodigious deeds of valor. Over and over they
recounted their versions of the encounter, each more fanciful than
the other, until it seemed that they must have left the forest
filled with corpses.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153