sooner heard the
whistling in the air above them, than instinctively they gave a great
plunge forward, and broke into a gallop. Not a sound was heard from the
two who sat behind. Mansana repeated the performance, and this time
with maddening effect upon the horses. The road at this point began to
slope down towards a stiff, steep hill; and precisely at this very
point, Mansana, for the third time, raised the whip, swung it in lasso
fashion round his head, and brought it down upon the backs of the
animals. Such an act, at such a moment, showed Theresa, as by a flash
of instinct, that Mansana's object was--not punishment of her, but
death with her!

If there is a faculty within us capable of bearing witness to the
divine origin of our souls, it is the power our minds possess of
embracing, in the fraction of a second, great spaces of time and series
of events. In the short interval between the bending of the whip above
her and its descent upon the horses' backs, she had not only made her
great discovery, but by the strange new light this shed on past events,
had lived over again the whole course of their acquaintanceship. In the
revelation of the moment she understood the nature of this man's proud
and reticent love--a love which could welcome death with joy, provided
it was shared with the woman he adored! She had, moreover, within this
same brief second of time, framed a resolution and also put it into
immediate action, for, as Mansana's whip descended, a voice behind him
called, "Mansana!" Not in a tone of fear or anger, but, as it were,
with a wild cry of joy. He looked back. She was standing up, heedless
of the hurricane pace at which they sped, with beaming face and
outstretched arms. Quicker than words can tell, he once more faced the
horses, flung away the whip, and wound the reins thrice about his arms,
and, making full use of all his strength, pressed his feet firmly
against the footboard. He wished now to live--not die--with her!

Then came a tug of war, for Mansana had determined that this bridal
march of Death should be transformed to one of joyous Life.

On they rushed, through blinding clouds of dust--on--towards the brow
of the steep hill. Mansana could just manage to hold up the foaming
horses' heads, so that their long manes fluttered like black wings
behind them, but that was all. He clutched the right rein fiercely with
both hands, in an effort to direct their headlong course towards the
middle of t