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She
rode
rapidly
on
,
scanning
the
causeway
far
in
the
advance
.
Suddenly
she
reined
up
,
on
nearing
the
crest
of
the
hill
that
overlooked
the
Leona
.
The
act
was
consequent
on
the
hearing
of
voices
.
She
listened
.
Though
still
distant
,
and
but
faintly
heard
,
the
voices
could
be
distinguished
as
those
of
a
man
and
woman
.
What
man
?
What
woman
?
Another
pang
passed
through
her
heart
at
these
put
questions
.
She
rode
nearer
;
again
halted
;
again
listened
.
The
conversation
was
carried
on
in
Spanish
.
There
was
no
relief
to
her
in
this
.
Maurice
Gerald
would
have
talked
in
that
tongue
to
Isidora
Covarubio
de
los
Llanos
.
The
Creole
was
acquainted
with
it
sufficiently
to
have
understood
what
was
said
,
had
she
been
near
enough
to
distinguish
the
words
.
The
tone
was
animated
on
both
sides
,
as
if
both
speakers
were
in
a
passion
.
The
listener
was
scarce
displeased
at
this
.
She
rode
nearer
;
once
more
pulled
up
;
and
once
more
sate
listening
.
The
man
's
voice
was
heard
no
longer
.
The
woman
's
sounded
dear
and
firm
,
as
if
in
menace
!
There
was
an
interval
of
silence
,
succeeded
by
a
quick
trampling
of
horses
--
another
pause
--
another
speech
on
the
part
of
the
woman
,
at
first
loud
like
a
threat
,
and
then
subdued
as
in
a
soliloquy
--
then
another
interval
of
silence
,
again
broken
by
the
sound
of
hoofs
,
as
if
a
single
horse
was
galloping
away
from
the
ground
.
