As she rode along (and she sat astride her saddle like a man), every now and then one could catch glimpses beneath her variegated girdle of her red morocco boots and of a Turkish dagger, with a massive silver handle, gleaming forth from their shafts.

On each side of her holsters peeped forth a double-barrelled pistol with an ivory handle.
When the old man stopped to water his horse at the spring gushing forth from the black slate rock, he said to the girl: "Anicza, when did you speak last with Fatia Negra ?" "Just a month ago.

It was at the time of the full moon, like it is now.
He then said that he was going away on a long journey." "And yet he has already been at home these two days.

I saw his sign over against my window." "Impossible.

It cannot be," cried the girl passionately.
"What cannot be?
Do you think I am dreaming or lying ?" "If he were at home, he would have come to see me ere this." The old man shrugged his shoulders.
"And yet he did not come.