ere moving along an
unfrequented part of the road, a horseman was seen coming after, and at
such speed as to overtake them in a few minutes. He was mounted on a
pretty mustang that bore the signs of being well cared for. Its flanks
were rounded with fat, and it capered as it galloped along.

As it came close to the carreta the rider called out to the driver to
stop; and it then appeared that the _horseman_ was a _woman_, as the
soft sweet voice at once indicated. More than that, the rider was a
_senorita_, as the soft cheek, the silky hair, and the delicate
features, showed. At a distance it was natural enough to have taken her
for one of the opposite sex. A common serape covered her shoulders; a
broad-brimmed sombrero concealed most of her black shining hair; and she
rode according to the general custom of the country--the custom of its
men.

"Why, Senorita!--is it you?" asked the poblana, in a tone of surprise,
and with a gesture of respect.

"Ha! ha! you did not know me, then, Josefa?"

"No, Senorita;--_ay de mi_! how could I in that disguise?"

"Disguise do you call it? Why, it is the usual costume!"

"True, Senorita; but not for a grand senora like you. _Carrambo_!"

"Well, I think I must be disguised, as I passed several acquaintances
who would not bow to me! Ha! ha!"

"_Pobrecita_--_ita_--_ita_!" continued she, suddenly changing her tone,
and regarding Josefa's companion with a look of kind sympathy. "How she
must have suffered! Poor dear girl! I fear it is true what they have
told me. _Santisima Virgen_! how like--"

The phrase was left unfinished. The speaker had forgotten the presence
of Josefa and the peon, and was delivering her thoughts in too loud a
soliloquy. The unfinished sentence had involuntarily escaped from her
lips.

Suddenly checking herself, she looked sharply towards the two. The peon
was busy with his oxen, but the poblana's face wore an expression of
curiosity.

"Like whom, Senorita?" innocently inquired she.

"One whom I know. No matter, Josefa." And, as the lady said this, she
raised her finger to her lips, and looked significantly towards the
peon.

Josefa, who knew her secret, and who guessed the "one" meant, remained
silent. After a moment the lady drew her mustang nearer the carreta,
upon the side on which Josefa sat, and, bending over, whispered to the
latter:--

"Remain below till the morning; you will be too late to return to-night.
Remain! perhaps