It flashed through Marcos’ mind that he must live at all costs.  There was no one to care for Juanita in the troubled times that were coming.  Juanita was his only thought.  And he fought for his life with skill and that quickness of perception which is the real secret of success in human affairs.

He jerked on the bridle with all the strength of his iron muscle; jerked himself up on the road and the horse over into the gorge.  As the horse fell it lashed out wildly; its hind foot touched the back of Marcos’ head and seemed almost to break his spine.

He rolled over on his side, choking.  He did not lose consciousness at once, but knew that oblivion was coming.  Perro, the dog, had been excitedly skirmishing round, keeping clear of the horse’s heels and doing little else.  He now looked over after the horse and Marcos saw his lean body outlined against the sky.  He had let the reins go and found that he was grasping a stone in his bleeding fingers instead.  He threw the stone at Perro and hit him.  The surprised yelp was the last sound he heard as the night of unconsciousness closed over him.

Juanita had gone to bed very tired.  She slept the profound sleep of youth and physical fatigue for an hour.  In the ordinary way she would have slept thus all night.  But at midnight she found herself wide-awake again.  The first fatigue of the body was past, and the busy mind asserted its rights again.  She was not conscious of having anything to think about.  But the moment she was half awake the thoughts leapt into her mind and awoke her completely.

She remembered again the startling silence of Torre Garda, which was in some degree intensified by the low voice of the river.  She lifted her head to listen and caught her breath at the instant realisation of the sound quite near at hand.  It was the patter of feet on the terrace below her window.  Perro had returned.  Marcos must therefore be back again.  She dropped her head sleepily on the pillow, expecting to hear some sound in the house indicative of Marcos’ return, but not intending to lie awake to listen for it.

She did not fall asleep again, however, and Perro continued to patter about on the terrace below as if he were going from window to window seeking an entrance.  Juanita began to listen to his movements, expecting him to whimper, and in a few moments he fulfilled her anticipation by giving a little uneasy sound between his teeth.  In a moment Juanita was out of bed and at the open window.  Perro would awake Sarrion and Marcos, who must be very tired.  It was a woman’s instinct.  Juanita was growing up.

Perro heard her, and in obedience to her whispered injunction stood still, looking up at her and wagging his uncouth tail slowly.  But he gave forth the uneasy sound again between his teeth.

Juanita went back into her room; found her slippers and dressing-gown.  But she did not light a candle.  She had acquired a certain familiarity with the night from Marcos, and it seemed natural at Torre Garda to fall into the habits of those who lived there.  She went the whole length of the balcony to Marcos’ room, which was at the other end of the house, while Perro conscientiously kept pace with her on the terrace below.