some
distance from the main buildings, and, halting at a saddle shed
adjoining, Esther left me and entered the house. Fortunately her mother
had retired, and after making a hasty change of apparel, she returned
unobserved to the corrals. As we quietly rode out from the inclosure,
my spirits soared to the moon above us. The night was an ideal one.
Crossing the Frio, we followed the divide some distance, keeping in the
open, and an hour before midnight forded the Nueces at Shepherd's. A
flood of recollections crossed my mind, as our steaming horses bent
their heads to drink at the ferry. Less than a year before, in this
very grove, I had met her; it was but two months since, on those hills
beyond, we had gathered flowers, plighted our troth, and exchanged our
first rapturous kiss. And the thought that she was renouncing home and
all for my sake, softened my heart and nerved me to every exertion.

Our intention was to intercept the south-bound stage at the first
road house south of Oakville. I knew the hour it was due to leave the
station, and by steady riding we could connect with it at the first
stage stand some fifteen miles below. Lighthearted and happy, we set
out on this last lap of our ride. Our horses seemed to understand the
emergency, as they put the miles behind them, thrilling us with their
energy and vigor. Never for a moment in our flight did my sweetheart
discover a single qualm over her decision, while in my case all scruples
were buried in the hope of victory. Recrossing the Nueces and entering
the stage road, we followed it down several miles, sighting the stage
stand about two o'clock in the morning. I was saddle weary from the
hunt, together with this fifty-mile ride, and rejoiced in reaching our
temporary destination. Esther, however, seemed little the worse for the
long ride.

The welcome extended by the keeper of this relay station was gruff
enough. But his tone and manner moderated when he learned we were
passengers for Corpus Christi. When I made arrangements with him to look
after our horses for a week or ten days at a handsome figure, he became
amiable, invited us to a cup of coffee, and politely informed us that
the stage was due in half an hour. But on its arrival, promptly on time,
our hearts sank within us. On the driver's box sat an express guard
holding across his knees a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun. As it
halted, two other guards stepped out of the coach, similarly armed. The
sta