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For
a
time
she
continued
her
scrutiny
without
satisfaction
.
No
one
appeared
either
at
the
house
,
or
near
it
.
The
private
road
leading
to
the
residence
of
the
haciendado
,
and
the
public
highway
,
were
alike
without
living
forms
.
Some
horses
were
straying
over
the
pastures
;
but
not
one
with
a
rider
upon
his
back
.
Could
the
lady
have
ridden
out
to
meet
him
,
or
Maurice
gone
in
?
Were
they
at
that
moment
in
the
woods
,
or
within
the
walls
of
the
house
?
If
the
former
,
was
Don
Silvio
aware
of
it
?
If
the
latter
,
was
he
at
home
--
an
approving
party
to
the
assignation
?
With
such
questions
was
the
Creole
afflicting
herself
,
when
the
neigh
of
a
horse
broke
abruptly
on
her
ear
,
followed
by
the
chinking
of
a
shod
hoof
against
the
stones
of
the
causeway
.
She
looked
below
:
for
she
had
halted
upon
the
crest
,
a
steep
acclivity
.
The
mustanger
was
ascending
it
--
riding
directly
towards
her
.
She
might
have
seen
him
sooner
,
had
she
not
been
occupied
with
the
more
distant
view
.
He
was
alone
,
as
he
had
ridden
past
Casa
del
Corvo
.
There
was
nothing
to
show
that
he
had
recently
been
in
company
--
much
less
in
the
company
of
an
inamorata
.
It
was
too
late
for
Louise
to
shun
him
.
The
spotted
mustang
had
replied
to
the
salutation
of
an
old
acquaintance
.
Its
rider
was
constrained
to
keep
her
ground
,
till
the
mustanger
came
up
.
"
Good
day
,
Miss
Poindexter
?
"
said
he
--
for
upon
the
prairies
it
is
not
etiquette
for
the
lady
to
speak
first
.
"
Alone
?
"
"
Alone
,
sir
.
And
why
not
?
"
"
'
Tis
a
solitary
ride
among
the
chapparals
.
But
true
:
I
think
I
've
heard
you
say
you
prefer
that
sort
of
thing
?
"
"
You
appear
to
like
it
yourself
,
Mr
Gerald
.
To
you
,
however
,
it
is
not
so
solitary
,
I
presume
?
"
