"The soldiers were on the other side, and there was a thick bush on this."
"But they put a bullet through your skin. There's blood on your dress."
"Yes."
"Where were you hit?"
"In the shoulder."
"That's nothing. You can walk."
So he allowed her to stay with him. She followed him, all in rags, shoeless, suffering from the fever caused by the wound, and yet she went foraging to procure for him a jug of water or a piece of bread, and if she came back with empty hands, escaping through the gunshots, her lover, devoured by hunger and thirst, would beat her. At last one night when the moon was shining in the prickly pears, Gramigna said to her,—
"They are on us."
And he obliged her to stand with her back to the rock far in the crevice; then he fled in another direction. Among the bushes were heard the frequent reports of
