Under the caresses of her son, the poor mother had again lost all consciousness. CHAPTER IV. THE MOTHER. Two horses, held by the bridle by Nô Eusebio, were waiting at the door of the hacienda. "Shall I accompany you, señor?" asked the major-domo. "No!" the hacendero replied drily. He mounted and placed his son across the saddle before him. "Take back the second horse," he said; "I do not want it." And plunging his spurs into the sides of his horse, which snorted with pain, he set off at full speed. The major-domo returned to the house, shaking his head sadly. As soon as the hacienda had disappeared behind a swell in the ground, Don Ramón stopped, drew a silk handkerchief from his breast, bandaged the eyes of his son without saying a word to him, and then again resumed his course. This ride in the desert lasted a long time; it had something dismal about it that chilled the soul. This horseman, clothed in black, gliding silently along through the sands, bearing before him on his saddle a securely-bound boy, whose nervous starts and writhings alone proclaimed his existence, had a fatal and strange aspect, which would have impressed the bravest man with terror. Many hours had passed without a word being exchanged between the son and the father; the sun began to sink in the horizon, a few stars already appeared in the dark blue of the sky--but the horse still went on. The desert, every instant, assumed a more dismal and wild appearance; every tree of vegetation had disappeared; only here and there heaps of bones, whitened by time, marbled the sand with livid spots; birds of prey hovered slowly over the horsemen, uttering hoarse cries; and in the mysterious depths of the chaparrals, wild beasts, at the approach of night, preluded their rude concerts with dull roarings. In these regions twilight does not exist; as soon as the sun has disappeared, the darkness is complete. Don Ramón continued to gallop on. His son had not addressed a single prayer to him, or uttered a single complaint. At length, towards eight o'clock, the horsemen stopped. This feverish ride had lasted ten hours. The horse panted and throbbed, and staggered at every step. Don Ramón cast an anxious glance around him; a smile of satisfaction curled his lip. On all sides the desert displayed its immense plains of sand; on one alone the skirt of a virgin forest cut the horizon with its strange profile, breaking in a sinister manner the monotony of the prospect. Don Ramón dismounted, placed his son upon the sand, took the bridle from his horse, that it might eat the provender he gave it; then, after having acquitted himself of all these duties, with the greatest coolness he approached his son, and removed the bandage from his eyes. The boy remained silent, fixing upon his father a dull, cold look.