"It is enough, my Anita. We will ride together like nobles of old Spain seeking adventures, only we will storm no castles, and wear no colors to denote our caballeros!"
She was elated as a child over the secret journey they were to take over unknown roads. The poppy dreams were left at the edge of the cliff, and she rode lightly across the divide, where at other times she ever halted for the picture of ocean and valley stretching from San Mateo at the sea to San Jacinto of the ranges.
"I knew it was love in thy heart for some one, Anita," she said, smiling. "Religion alone does not make a woman comprehend heartaches for other women. You are the only one of all of them who asks no questions, yet you put your arms around me that crazy night when I rode from Los Angeles, and all at once I felt that I need not hold with tired hands a mask to my face for you."
"Holy Mary! I know, and why not? My family married me to the wrong man," said Ana, easily. "But I was lucky in one thing, and I know enough now to thank the saints for it,--I had not learned what love meant, so the other man had not come."
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 José, my husband! It would have gone hard with him, and my relatives would have cursed me."
"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!"