the carriage, I fancied I heard a bugle-call in the
direction cityward. Of course, with guns and bells signalling, we may
expect pursuit from every point of the compass. Had we kept to the
roads, we'd have been met somewhere. As it is, if they give us another
ten minutes' grace, I'll take you into a place where there's not much
fear of our being followed--by mounted men, anyhow."

Kearney heard this without comprehending. Some hiding-place, he
supposed, known to the Mexican. It could only mean that. But where?
Looking ahead, he saw the mountains with their sides forest-clad, and
there a fugitive might find concealment. But they were miles off; and
how were they to be reached by men afoot--to say nothing of the chains--
with cavalry in hue and cry all around them? He put the question.

"Don't be impatient, _amigo_!" said the Mexican in response; "you'll
soon see the place I speak of, and that will be better than any
description I could give. It's a labyrinth which would have delighted
Daedalus himself. _Mira_! You behold it now!"

He pointed to a _facade_ of rock, grey, rugged, and precipitous,
trending right and left through the _chapparal_ far as they could see.
A cliff, in short, though of no great elevation; on its crest, growing
yuccas, cactus, and stunted mezquite trees.

"The _Pedregal_!" he added, in a cheerful voice, "and glad am I to see
it. I've to thank old Vulcan or Pluto for making such a place. It has
saved my life once before, and I trust will do the same now, for all of
us. But we must be quick about it. _Adelante_!"

The horses were urged into a final spurt of speed, and soon after
arrived at the base of the rocky escarpment, which would have barred
them further advance in that direction, had the intention been to take
them on. But it was not.

"We must part from them, now," said Rivas. "Dismount all!"

All four slipped off together, Rock taking hold of both bridles, as if
he waited to be told what to do.

"We mustn't leave them here," said the Mexican. "They might neigh, and
so guide our pursuers to the spot. In another hour, or half that, we
needn't care; it'll be dark then--"

He interrupted himself, seeming to reflect, which, the Texan observing,
said to Kearney--

"He weeshes the anymals sent off, do he?"

"Just that, Cris."

"I war thinkin' o' thet same, meself. The groun' for a good spell back
hez been hard as flint, an' we hain't left much o' trail, nothin' as