The time she had been absent was short, though it seemed
hours to her, and she found the baby playing in the sunlight that
streamed in the window. Snatching him up convulsively, she dashed out of
the house, and ran at her utmost speed along the road that led to the
mission, nearly three miles away. Her horse was tethered in the field,
not one hundred yards from her, but she was too frightened to think of
that. Her one thought was to get away from the Indian, and to reach the
mission, forgetting in her unceasing fear that she was completely at the
mercy of her foe, and that, were he bent on still further mischief, by
hurrying unduly, she was only hastening the bitter moment.
And so it proved. The road to the mission lay at an acute angle with the
course of the stream, and the place where Juana supposed the Indian to
be hid was, for some distance, almost in front of her. She hurried on,
looking neither to right nor left, but with gaze bent tensely on the
mission church, the cross on the roof alone being visible above the tree
tops.
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