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Updated: August 18, 2024
The solitude of the fields again; the moonlight sleeping on the vast sweep of the ranchos. Calpella past. Felipe rose in his stirrups with a great shout. At Calpella he knew he had crossed the divide. The valley lay beneath him, and the moon was turning to silver the winding courses of the Rio Esparto, now in plain sight. It was between Calpella and Proberta that Pepe stumbled first.
He was not far from the river, not far from Caliente, not far from the Convent of Santa Teresa and Buelna. But the way to Caliente was roundabout, distant. If he should follow the road thither he would lose a long half-hour. By going directly across the country from where he now was, avoiding Proberta, he could save much distance and precious time.
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