Beltran arose and took a few cautious steps upon the roof, but the wind, if warm, was fierce, and thrust him back with violence. He barely escaped being dashed to the new-made lake below. He caught at the chimenea, and edging slowly round, seated himself again by Agueda. She had been calling to him, and had stretched out her hand. Her eyes showed her fear, and also the relief which his presence gave her. When she felt that he was safe beside her she made no further sign.
Beltran had laid his hand on Agueda's shoulder as he would have done upon the chimney itself. By it he steadied himself in taking his seat. She raised her eyes and shyly offered him his coat. He shook his head with a smile. His lips moved, but she could hear no word for the noise of the wind and water. Don Beltran put his hand to his mouth and placed his lips to Agueda's ear.
"Do not be afraid," he shouted. "There is really no danger."
She shook her head and glanced up at him again, dropping almost at once the childish eyes to the hands in her lap. She moved a little nearer to their dividing line, and called in answer:
He saw her lips move, and guessed at the words, though her look of confidence would have answered him. Why had he never noticed those eyes before? Was it because she had always kept them cast down? What slim hands the girl had! What shapely shoulders! He looked at them as they rested against the weather-beaten stones of the chimney.
Agueda turned her head backward and clutched quickly at the light handkerchief which confined the waves of her short hair. She laughed and looked upward at Don Beltran from under her sweeping lashes. Her soul went forth to meet his gaze, unconscious as a little child that she had a secret to tell; unconscious that the next moment she had told it. How can one tell anything except by word of mouth?
Beltran drew sharply back, as far as the contracted space would allow. He leaned over the edge of the roof, and saw that the water was now sweeping through the casa, flowing more slowly as it spread over a greater space. It glided in at the doors and out at the windows, which he had left open purposely, not dreaming, it is true, that this flood would be greater than others of its kind, but that in case it should be, the resistance might be less. Glancing down stream, he saw a chair and some tin pans bobbing and courtesying to each other as they drifted across the potrero where the cattle usually browsed.