The night search proved ineffectual; and in the morning the party that had gone down the valley returned, having found no traces either of Carlos, his sister, or his mother. It was known that the _hechicera_ had died on the previous night, but where had the body been taken to? Had she come to life again, and aided the outlaw in his escape? Such was the conjecture! At a later hour in the morning some light was thrown on the mysterious affair. Don Ambrosio, who had gone to rest without disturbing his daughter, was awaiting her presence in the breakfast-room. What detained her beyond the usual hour? The father grew impatient--then anxious. A messenger was at length sent to summon her--no reply to the knocking at her chamber-door! The door was burst open. The room was entered--it was found untenanted--the bed unpressed--the senorita had fled! She must be pursued! Where is the groom?--the horses? She must be overtaken and brought back! The stable is reached, and its door laid open. No groom! no horse!-- they, too, were gone! Heavens! what a fearful scandal! The daughter of Don Ambrosio had not only assisted the outlaw to escape, but she had shared his flight, and was now with him. "_Huyeron_!" was the universal cry. The trail of the horses was at length taken up, and followed by a large party, both of dragoons and mounted civilians. It led into the high plain, and then towards the Pecos, where they had crossed. Upon the other side the trail was lost. The horses had separated, and gone in different directions, and their tracks, passing over dry shingle, could no longer be followed. After several days' fruitless wandering, the pursuing party returned, and a fresh one started out; but this, after a while, came back to announce a similar want of success. Every haunt had been searched; the old rancho--the groves on the Pecos--even the ravine and its cave had been visited, and examined carefully. No traces of the fugitives could be discovered; and it was conjectured that they had gone clear off from the confines of the settlement. This conjecture proved correct, and guessing was at length set at rest. A party of friendly Comanches, who visited the settlement, brought in the report that they had met the cibolero on their way across the Llano Estacado--that he was accompanied by two women and several men with pack-mules carrying provisions--that he had told them (the Indians) he was on his way for a long journey--in fact, to the other side of the Great Plains. This information was definite, and no doubt correct. Carlos had been often heard to express his intention of crossing over to the country of the Americanos. He was now gone thither--most likely to settle upon the banks of the Mississippi. He was already far beyond the reach of pursuit. They would see him no more--as it was not likely he would ever again show his face in the settlements of New Mexico.