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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Besides," she suddenly resumed, "it is fresh air, not water, I require. I am suffocated, I cannot breathe. Oh, dear friend, save me from fainting. Force back the door till the bolt slips out." "No, no, Cleta, it cannot be done." "What, with your strength! I could almost do it myself with my poor little hands. Open, open, open, before I faint."
"Where would I have got the ten dollars to pay Petrona for the saddle?" he retorted, losing his temper. "My friend," I said, "if the saddle can be had, it is only just that you should have the profit. Take ten dollars, and if you buy it for me I will pay you two more." This proposal pleased him greatly, while Cleta, the volatile, clapped her hands with delight.
Out sprang Cleta, flushed, tearful, her hair all in disorder, but laughing gleefully at having regained her liberty. "Oh, dear friend, I thought you were going to leave me!" she cried. "How agitated I am feel how my heart beats. Never mind, I can now pay that wretch out. Is not revenge sweet, sweet, sweet?"
This we followed till daylight, scarcely pausing once from our swift gallop, and a hundred times during that dark ride over a country utterly unknown to me I blessed the little witch Cleta; for never was there a more steady, sure-footed beast than the ugly roan that carried my companion, and when we drew rein in the pale morning light he seemed fresh as when we started.
I have put up my hair now, and look prettier than when you saw me." "You look prettier with it down," I answered. "Ah, down it goes again then!" she exclaimed. "Yes, you are right, it does look best that way. Is it not like silk? You shall feel it when you liberate me." "That I cannot do, Cleta mine. Your Antonio has taken away the key." "Oh, cruel man!
And I have been married six months, such a long time! I am sure I have green, blue, yellow, grey hairs coming out all over my head by this time. And what about my hair, sir, you never spoke of that? Did I not let it down for you? Is it not soft and beautiful? Tell me, sir, what about my hair?" "In truth it is soft and beautiful, Cleta, and covers you like a dark cloud." "Does it not!
Look, I will cover my face with it. Now I am hidden like the moon in a cloud, and now, look, out comes the moon again! I have a great respect for the moon. Say, holy friar, am I like the moon?" "Say, little sweet lips, why do you call me holy friar?" "Say first, holy friar, am I like the moon?" "No, Cleta, you are not like the moon, though you are both married women; you are married to Antonio "
"Oh, beautiful, Cleta; your eyes are stars, your mouth is a rosebud, sweeter than honey a thousand times." "Now you talk like a wise man," she laughed; then, holding my hand, she led me to the tree and sat down by my side on the poncho. "And how old are you, little one?" I asked. "Fourteen is that very old? Ah, fool, to tell my age truly no woman does that. Why did I not say thirteen?
You can have seven dollars for it not one copper more, for, like the Emperor of China, I speak once only." He plucked off his purple headgear and scratched his raven head, then led me back to the kitchen to consult his wife, "For, senor," he said, "you have, by some fatality, selected her horse." When Cleta heard that seven dollars had been offered for the roan, she laughed with joy.
"That would be disobeying your husband," I said, trying to look stern. "Never mind, I will confess it all to the priest some day, then it will be as if it had never happened. Such a husband poof! If you were not a married man are you married? What a pity! Say again, am I pretty?" "Say first, Cleta, have you a horse a woman can ride on, and if you have one, will you sell it to me?"
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