Presently the two Mexicans pulled up with loud exclamations of joy and wonder.  One of them took out of his haversack a quantity of provisions and a flask of aguardiente; and Coronado handed them to Thurstane with a smile, hoping that he would surfeit himself and die.

“No,” said Clara, seizing the food.  “You have eaten enough.  You may drink.”

“Where are the others?” she presently asked.

“In the hills,” he answered.  “Starving.  I must go and find them.”

“No, no!” she cried.  “You must go to the train.  Some one else will look for them.”

One of the rancheros now dismounted and helped Thurstane into his saddle.  Then, the Mexican steadying him on one side and Clara riding near him on the other, he was conducted to the train, which was at that moment going into park near a thicket of willows.

In an amazingly short time he was very like himself.  Healthy and plucky, he had scarcely swallowed his food and brandy before he began to draw strength from them; and he had scarcely begun to breathe freely before he began to talk of his duties.

“I must go back,” he insisted.  “Glover and Sweeny are starving.  I must look them up.”

“Certainly,” answered Coronado.

“No!” protested Clara.  “You are not strong enough.”

“Of course not,” chimed in Aunt Maria with real feeling, for she was shocked by the youth’s haggard and ghastly face.

“Who else can find them?” he argued.  “I shall want two spare animals.  Glover can’t march, and I doubt whether Sweeny can.”

“You shall have all you need,” declared Coronado.

“He mustn’t go,” cried Clara.  Then, seeing in his face that he would go, she added, “I will go with him.”

“No, no,” answered several voices.  “You would only be in the way.”

“Give me my horse,” continued Thurstane.  “Where are Meyer and Kelly?”

He was told how they had gone on to Fort Yuma with Major Robinson, taking his horse, the government mules, stores, etc.

“Ah! unfortunate,” he said.  “However, that was right.  Well, give me a mule for myself, two mounted muleteers, and two spare animals; some provisions also, and a flask of brandy.  Let me start as soon as the men and beasts have eaten.  It is forty miles there and back.”

“But you can’t find your way in the night,” persisted Clara.

“There is a moon,” answered Thurstane, looking at her gratefully; while Coronado added encouragingly, “Twenty miles are easily done.”

“Oh yes!” hoped Clara.  “You can almost get there before dark.  Do start at once.”

But Coronado did not mean that Thurstane should set out immediately.  He dropped various obstacles in the way:  for instance, the animals and men must be thoroughly refreshed; in short, it was dusk before all was ready.

Meantime Clara had found an opportunity of whispering to Thurstane. “Must you?” And he had answered, looking at her as the Huguenot looks at his wife in Millais’s picture, “My dear love, you know that I must.”