vehicle of some kind.
As carriages are seldom used in Arequipa, I concluded that this
must be bearing Felicita away. I drove the spurs harder and leaned
forward, peering into the darkness. I was gaining rapidly. I was
certain now that it was Felicita, for they were driving at full
speed. I never thought how I was to rescue her, my whole purpose
being to catch up with that villain. Just then the moon shone bright
from behind a cloud and lighted up the scene. The occupants of the
carriage now knew they were being pursued, and they stopped. I could
plainly see two men unhitch two horses from behind the carriage. They
took Felicita from the carriage and were forcing her to mount when,
suddenly, her horse became unmanageable, and she fell to the
ground. By this time I was close upon them, and called to Felicita to
be brave, but the poor girl never heard me, for she was unconscious.
Don Rodrigo stopped, as if determined to resist me. Would to God
he had! But he put spurs to his horse and fled. I shot at him, but
as the distance was great, and the light uncertain, the bullet
went wide of the mark. I soon forgot him on reaching Felicita, as
she lay with an ugly cut on her head caused by striking the
carriage step when she fell. There lay my child-friend, unconscious.
She was dressed for retiring, her other clothes being in the
carriage. My first impulse was to pursue the accursed scoundrel
and avenge the insult to Felicita, but I could not leave her there.
I took her in my arms and carried her to a near-by Indian hut
where, after some parley with the poor, superstitious Indians, the
door was opened, and I laid my burden on some sheepskins on the
floor. Her hands were cold and she appeared to be dead.

By this time, Chico arrived and brought her clothes from the carriage.
I staunched the flow of blood with my handkerchief, while Chico
prepared some hot native liquor, which I put to her lips. After a
time, she opened her eyes, but did not know me. I called and called
her name, but it was long before consciousness returned. When she did
recognize me, a look of love and happiness passed over her face. I
would not let her speak, but told her that when she was taken home,
she could tell me all. The carriage driver had long since made his
escape, so I had sent to Arequipa and had a closed carriage brought,
in which I took her home.

Time dragged wearily until the return of her father. I remained by her
side and with the assistance