that a murmur went through the crowd like a little wind through a field of maize as he passed.
It was that they were to see a tragedy, they said. Don Felipe was going for his knife.
"You are a brave and gallant gentleman, Don Gabriel," said Helena Sprague, her hand reaching toward him vainly, her face pressed to the bars.
Gabriel lifted his hand to his hat, eyes fixed on the crowd.
"Come away!" said Doña Carlota, scandalized, and shaken with fright. "It is wrong for you to talk to a brigand."
"I thank God you have burst your prison door, Don Gabriel," Helena said, pushing Doña Carlota back with impatient hand.
"Here is your horse, Miss Sprague. He has been abused, but not much hurt."
"He is yours, I give him to you."
"I have brought him for you to ride away, Helena. Felipe shall get me a crowbar, I'll tear down these bars or break in the door."
"You are generous and brave, but I have no place to flee to, Don—no place to hide from them, Gabriel."
"This is sinful, this will disgrace you forever!" Doña Carlota panted, tugging to draw her from the window.
"I have been told they have laid a charge of treason against you, Helena, and that Roberto, in the treachery of his mean soul"
"His jealous heart, Gabriel."
