So far, good. The omens seemed favorable, and my hopes ran high. We should get off without anybody knowing which way we had taken, and several hours before Señora de la Vega was likely to be missed. But when we reached the rendezvous she was not there. I whistled and called softly; nobody answered. "She will be here presently, we must wait," I said to Gahra. It was terribly annoying. Every minute was precious. The Pachatupecs are early risers, and if Señora de la Vega did not join us before daylight we might be seen and the opportunity lost. The sun rose; still she did not come, and I had just made up my mind to put off our departure until the next morning, and try to communicate with Señora de la Vega in the meantime, when Gahra pointed to a pathway in the wood, where his sharp eyes had detected the fluttering of a robe. At last she was coming. But too late. To start at that time would be madness, and I was about to tell her so, send her back, and ask her to meet me on the next morning, when she ran forward with terrified face and uplifted hands. "Save me! Save me!" she cried, "I could not get away sooner. I have been watched. They are following me, even now." This was a frightful misfortune, and I feared that the señora had acted very imprudently. But it was no time either for reproaches or regrets, and the words were scarcely out of her mouth when I lifted her into the saddle; as I did so, I caught sight of two horsemen and several foot-people, coming down the pathway. "Go!" I said to Gahra, "I shall stay here." "But, señor--" "Go, I say; as you love me, go at once. This lady is in your charge. Take good care of her. I can keep these fellows at bay until you are out of sight and, if possible, I will follow. At once, please, at once!" They went, Gahra's face expressing the keenest anguish, the señora half dead with fear. As they rode away I turned into the pathway and prepared for the encounter. The foot-people might do as they liked, they could not overtake the fugitives, but I was resolved that the horsemen should only pass over my body. The foremost of them was Chimu himself. When he saw that I had no intention of turning aside, he and his companion (who rode behind him) reined in their horses. The cacique was quivering with rage. "My wife has gone off with your negro," he said, hoarsely. I made no answer. "I saw you help her to mount. You have met her before. Mamcuna shall know of this, and my wife shall die." Still I made no answer. "Let me pass!" I drew my _machete_.