They had checked their speed to descend the steep ravine cut in the heart of the mesa, and giving outlet to the blue sea. Raquel was intent, apparently, on finding the best footing for her horse, and did not look up at once, but when no reply came she tried to laugh, and repeated the question. "I did not answer," said Ana, after a moment, "because, Raquelita, when you made me think of it, truly it seemed as if my heart stopped beating that minute. Poor Jose, my husband! It would have gone hard with him, and my relatives would have cursed me." "And why?" "I think I should have risked the purgatory they would have sent me to, but I would ride as we are riding now, straight to the man--the one man." "And suppose--suppose, Anita, you were bound by a vow to the dead--could you ride away from that? Suppose that so long as you lived you were set to guard one living soul--that each day when you awoke, your prayers were to keep worthy for the task; suppose--" "No, no! I will not suppose. A woman can endure just so much, no more. I know you are doing all this, my Raquel, and I see that it is forever one big fight and sacrifice, and all your life it will be the same. But, Raquel, when you awake and pray each morning, thank the Virgin at the same time that the other man has not yet ridden into your heart. I know you do not think of men--that it is to live ever in cloisters! But pray God that the man may never come, Raquel--for a girl is only a girl, after all!" "Of course, but--" "Oh, you would argue, because you do not know!" burst out Ana, with impatience. "Raquel, you are so good you are always beautiful; but I tell you truly, that if it should happen--all the saints could not help you. Between your vow for the soul of Rafael and your love for the one man--" "Well, my Anita?" "Well, you could not live through it and remain what you are. Any woman would go mad--any woman." Raquel touched her horse and galloped up the steep hill ahead of Ana. Down the longer one to Boca de la Playa she rode in the same reckless way, and it was not until they had reached El Camino Real that she pulled her horse in, and allowed Ana to come alongside. "Jesusita! how you ride away from me!" gasped her friend. "Wait until I braid up my hair. Look at it--all the new pins lost, the pretty ones you brought me from Los Angeles. We will send a boy back to hunt them." Raquel sat silent on her panting horse, looking out on the wide sea and saying nothing. Ana glanced at her white face while braiding her hair, and thought it looked cold and determined, almost angry; and as they started on once more, she reached across and touched her hand. "Do not make your eyes like cold agates of violet," she entreated. "Truly, I meant not to anger you, and I know you are good always, and think only of your vows. But even the saints have known temptation, my Raquel, and some who might have been saints have lost souls for a man or a woman."