mind at rest about the _risk_. Read!"

She handed me a folded paper; at a glance, I recognised the _safe-guard_
of the commander-in-chief, enjoining upon all to respect its bearer--the
_Dona Isolina de Vargas_.

"You perceive, mio capita I was not your captive after all? Ha! ha!
ha!"

"Lady, you are too general not to pardon the rudeness to which you have
been subjected?"

"Freely, capitan--freely."

"I shudder at thought of the risk you have run. Why did you act with
such imprudence? Your sudden flight at sight of our picket caused
suspicion, and of course it was our duty to follow and capture you.
With the safeguard, you had no cause for flight."

"Ha! it was that very safe-guard that caused me to fly."

"The safe-guard, senorita? Pray, explain!"

"Can I trust _your_ prudence, capitan?"

"I promise--"

"Know, then, that I was not certain you were _Americanos_; for aught I
could see, you might have been a guerilla of my _countrymen_. How would
it be if this paper, and sundry others I carry, were to fall into the
hands of Caiales? You perceive, capitan, we fear our _friends_ more
than our _enemies_."

I now fully comprehended the motive of her flight.

"You speak Spanish too well, mio capitan," continued she. "Had you
cried `Halt!' in your native tongue, I should at once have pulled up,
and perhaps saved my pet. Ah, me!--_pobre yegua! pobre Zola_!"

As she uttered the last exclamation, her feelings once more overcame
her; and sinking down upon her knees, she passed her arms around the
neck of the mustang, now stiff and cold. Her face was buried in the
long thick mane, and I could perceive the tears sparkling like dew-drops
over the tossed hair.

"_Pobre Lolita_!" she continued, "I have good cause to grieve; I had
reason to love you well. More than once you saved me from the fierce
Lipan and the brutal Comanche. What am I to do now? I dread the Indian
foray; I shall tremble at every sign of the savage. I dare no more
venture upon the prairie; I dare not go abroad; I must tamely stay at
home. _Mia querida_! you were my wings: they are clipped--I fly no
more."

All this was uttered in a tone of extreme bitterness; and I--I who so
loved my own brave steed--could appreciate her feelings. With the hope
of imparting even a little consolation, I repeated my offer.

"Senorita," I said, "I have swift horses in my troop--some of noble
race--"

"You have no horse in your troop I value."

"Yo