her hair spread around, one hand thrown out as if to break her fall.
"Lift her, my son—she lies as one dead!" Padre Ignacio said, interpreting his meaning by speaking gestures.
Juan, disregarding Captain del Valle's menacing pistol, bent and lifted her in his arms.
"Into the cart with her, leave her so!" Captain del Valle ordered.
Gertrudis opened her eyes with appealing look into Juan Molinero's face.
"My knee—it is terrible, the agony!" she moaned. "Carry me within quickly, quickly!"
Juan understood only the appeal of her eyes, the suffering expression of her white face against his arm, but he knew that Captain del Valle had ordered her thrown into the cart like a sheep. That was no place for a suffering woman when the mission door stood wide.
"Across the road with you now, John Miller!" Padre Mateo shouted, kicking his mule in front of Captain del Valle as if the soldier were a bush, the pistol in his hand of no more importance than a thorn.
There was a trampling of feet, a dismounting in haste of soldiers at the captain's command, confusion and blinding dust. Padre Mateo, his feet flaring wide in the stirrups, shifted his mule in a clever dance to block Captain del Valle's aim, and Juan Molinero pushed the doubtful soldiers out of
