have not returned to my father's house.
I beg that you will tell no one, not even a priest, that we have been
here, for three days at least."

"The senor's wishes shall be obeyed. The Senor Don returns not for a
week. No one shall know until then of the honour that has been done to
his house."

The boys rode rapidly through the wood over a broad road that had
evidently been traversed many times. The sky was leaden, but no rain
fell. Nor was there any wind. The lake could not have been smoother
were it frozen, although it reflected the grey above. Wild ducks and
snipe broke its monotony at times, now and again a jungle of tules. In
less than an hour the travellers were ascending the mountain by easy
grades, a black forest of pines about them. It was darker here, but the
road was clearly defined, and they talked gaily of adventures past and
to come. In Los Angeles they had many relatives, and they knew that a
royal welcome would be given them. They would see the gay life of which
they had heard so much from their brothers; and they magnanimously
resolved that after a week of it they would return to their anxious
parents.

"Ay!" exclaimed Adan, interrupting these pleasant anticipations, "it
rains at last."

A few drops fell; then the rain came with a rush. For some time the
wind had been rising; suddenly it seemed to leap upward to meet the
emptying clouds, then filled the pine-tops with a great roar, rattling
the hard branches, bending the slender trunks. The boys were on the
down grade, and there was no danger of losing the path, although the
rain had put out the sallow flame of the sun. They pricked their horses
and made the descent as rapidly as possible. But it was another hour
before they were on level ground once more. The rain was still falling
in torrents; the wind flung it in their eyes as fast as they dashed it
from their lashes. They could not see a yard ahead. The light of the
hacienda was nowhere visible. If its owner was away from home and his
house in darkness, then was their plight a sorry one indeed.

"There is only one thing to do," said Roldan, putting his hand
funnel-wise to Adan's ear. "We must keep due south until we come to the
river. Then, at least, we cannot go wrong."

"And that river we must cross!" said Adan, with a groan. "Dios de mi
alma!"

Roldan had great faith in his sense of locality, but in a blinding rain
on a black night with a mighty wind roaring inside one's very skull,
and