Read The Silent Rifleman! A tale of the Texan prairies Page 7


  CHAPTER VII.

  THE RUINED RANCHO.

  The moon by this time had risen, and already far above the horizon wasbeginning to pour her light into the shadowy recesses of the forest.

  Along the road they travelled, and although advancing only at an easyambling canter, had traversed something better than twenty miles, whenthe distant barking of a large dog was distinctly heard by all theparty, and within a few minutes after that sound became audible, theadvanced dragoon, who was a hundred or two yards ahead of the party,reined up and informed the Partisan that a heavy body of horse werecoming down the road rapidly toward them.

  Pierre halted, and telling Julia that there was no danger, and desiringthe men not to stir from the spot, or speak, or call out, whateverthey might hear or see, dismounted from his horse, cast the rein to adragoon, and then hurried back on foot, as fast as he could, directlytoward the track which they had just left.

  "Just as I thought, guerillas," muttered the Partisan to himself. "Itis Juan de Alava's squadron, for a thousand."

  The squadron was perhaps ten minutes or a quarter of an hour passinghim, for there were, as he had conjectured by the sound, while theywere yet at a distance, above a hundred of them--in fact, he reckonedabout a score beyond that number--and they rode in very open order, andnot much faster than a foot pace.

  Pierre listened to every word that fell from their lips.

  The next glance showed him that his life had not been worth a dollar'spurchase had he fully arisen to his feet, for he needed nothing totell him that the eyes of the two who now passed him--eyes wanderingsuspiciously at every step of their horses through the forest aboutthem--were very different to encounter from those of the mere trooperswho had hitherto passed by him.

  These two men were of a widely different aspect from the rest, and fromeach other also, though one of them was clad, except that the materialswere richer, in the same costume with the men who preceded him.

  The other, who rode a little the foremost of the two, and the nearestto the Partisan, was a little old shrivelled man. Yet within that frailand meagre frame, hardened as it was, and exercised into a mere mass ofcompact bone and sinew, it was easy to perceive that there resided aworld of untamed youthful spirit, and all the strength of manhood.

  "Now, Padre," exclaimed the younger, "for the love of God, let us setspurs to our horses and get the troop forward at a quicker pace. Atthis rate, we shall not reach the open ground before day-break; and, inthat case, they will have the start of us."

  "Not so, not so, Juan," replied the old man, in a clear, hard voice."If our information be correct, and there be a lady with them, as Idoubt not it is, they will have halted for the night, and the later wecome upon the ground, the more chance of finding them."

  They continued speaking as they rode along; but these were all thewords that reached the ears of the Partisan. No more did he require,however, to inform him of all that he wished to know.

  So soon as the clatter of their passage had died away into the ordinarysilence of the woods, the Partisan hurried back to join his friends,who were awaiting his return in no small anxiety, at least, not to saytrepidation.

  "All is well," he exclaimed, as soon as he came into ear-shot of thelittle party; "all is well. It is Padre Taranta and young Juan deAlava, and troop. They are in search of us, too."

  They then all hastened back to the main road, and cantered forward ata better pace than they had as yet ventured on trying. Half an hour'sride brought them to the banks of the rivulet which divided the cleargrounds that surrounded the once splendid estate from the wild forest.

  A minute or two afterward, however, as the hoofs of their horses beganto clatter on the pavement, a fierce baying broke upon the stillnessof the night, and two huge sheep-dogs, of the far-famed Mexican breed,came bounding out, furious, as if to attack the intruders.

  But the Partisan soon quieted them; and then, as if aroused by theuproar, some one was heard to stir within the rancho, a light flashedthrough one of the casements, which was immediately thrown open--a loudvoice hailing to inquire who came so late.

  "Friends, friends!" cried the Partisan, in the Spanish tongue. "It isI, Sanchez; it is Pedro, the Forester."

  "Thanks be to God!" shouted the old man, who had spoken from within;"welcome, senor. Wait till I open the door for you."

  The lattice was pulled to, as he ceased speaking; but they could hearhim hallooing within to arouse his mistress and the scanty household.

  "Ho! senorita, senorita Marguerita; he, Pedro the Forester, Pedro elSalvador!"

  A moment afterward, the bolts were withdrawn and the gate thrown open,and the lady, with her conductors, entered the ruined rancho.

  The first sight which met the eyes of Julia Gordon, as she crossedthe threshold of the door, and stood within the hall of that lonelydwelling, was the figure of a young, delicate, tall girl, who struckher, at the first glance, as being the very loveliest creature she hadever looked upon. And indeed she was exceedingly lovely.

  In her left hand she carried a small lamp, which was the only light inthe large apartment.

  It seemed that she had not distinguished the words of old Sanchez,when he shouted to arouse her from her slumbers; for, as the Partisanadvanced, who had stood hitherto in the back-ground, and had beenconcealed by the darkness which pervaded the whole room. Margueritasprang eagerly forward to greet him.

  "You! you!" she cried, fervently; "do my eyes tell me truly? Is it,indeed, you? Lord of my life! friend of my soul! preserver of myhonour! is it, indeed, you, Pedro el Salvador. Oh, I am happy--oh,very, very happy."

  And, as she spoke, in the intensity of her passionate feeling, sheclasped her snowy arms about the rough soldier's neck, and letting fallher Madonna-like head on his iron shoulders, burst into a flood oftears.

  "Nay, nay!" exclaimed the gallant rover, gently disengaging himselffrom the innocent girl's embrace; "nay, nay! weep not, sweet Senorita,this is no time for tears, for I have come to ask a favour--a favour asgreat as the lives of us all."

  "Ask for _my_ life, rather," she answered, emphatically, suffering thetears to trickle down her cheeks unheeded, "for it is yours; ask for mysoul, you should have it, were it mine to bestow."

  "Impossible, indeed, Marguerita," replied the Partisan; "impossible,indeed, that either I should ask, or you grant, were it to save aworld. But, listen to me, and first look upon this beautiful youngwoman."

  "Add one word more, Don Pedro; say that she is _your_ wife," said thegirl in a singular tone of half-resentful vehemence, which Pierre didnot then comprehend.

  "She is the wife of my friend, Lieutenant Gordon, lady," he replied;"no volunteer, I assure you, but one of May's dragoons."

  "Pardon me," she said, turning to Julia, "pardon me, dear lady; butat times I am half distraught, and my mind wanders, I know not howor whither, since--since that day--but _he_ has told you, doubtless.In one word, you are welcome. You are safe as if you were within thetemple of your God. You are alone, you are in danger, _he_ loves you,and I doubt not _you_ love him; and I, Marguerita de Alava, swears it,by all the saints of Heaven, that I will die before one hair of yourhead, one nail of your finger, be injured. But this," she continued,after a moment's pause, "this is poor hospitality. Without there!Sanchez, Estefania, bring lights, and wine, and pile up the fire; thenights are chilly here among our forests."

  The old shepherd, who had been awaiting her commands without,marvelling evidently at the long delay ere he was summoned, appearedinstantly, bearing a pair of tall waxen candles, almost torches insize, in two massive silver candle sticks of different patterns, but ofgreat value.

  The Partisan then left the room for a minute or two, in order to givesome instructions to the dragoons; for, in the present crisis Gordonhad delegated the command to him; while the young husband drew near tothe stove, unwilling to quit Julia, and more than half suspicious ofthe Spanish lady's motives.

  So soon, however, as the girl's eye fell upon her own scanty attire,revealed as
it was now by the bright lustre of the candles, shestarted, as if she had but that instant remembered how slenderly shewas clad; blushed crimson, and raising both her hands to conceal herhalf-uncovered bosom, turned quickly, and fled with a swift step intothe inner chamber.

  "She is jealous of you, Julia," said Gordon.

  "Jealous of me, Arthur?" she exclaimed, blushing deeply as she said thewords; and he observed the blush, but observed not the indignant tonein which she spoke.

  "Is that a blush of consciousness, or of shame, Julia?" he said, aftera moment's pause, gazing at her sternly.

  "Of indignation!" she answered, vehemently, her soft blue eyes flashingfire as she answered him. "Of indignation, sir, that any man shoulddare use such words, entertain such thoughts of me. Yes, Arthur Gordon,she is both in love and jealous. I saw that at a glance; and I willtell you something more; she is _not_ jealous without a cause. Is yourglance answered? For the man whom she loves, does _not_ love her, and_does_ love me."

  The young man spoke not, stirred not, answered not. He stood abashed,crest-fallen, dumb before her. Conviction was borne in upon his soulby every word she uttered.

  "Now listen to me, Arthur Gordon. I trust, I know, I thank my God! Iam too proud, if not too pure, ever to do the thing that should makeme know what shame is. But, mark me: if there be aught on earth whichalienates love, it is to be suspected of not loving. If there beaught on earth that engenders evil thoughts in the heart, it is to besuspected capable of evil thinking. If there be aught on earth thatmakes a woman doubt herself, it is to be doubted by him who shouldsustain her; if once she doubt herself, others will soon have cause todoubt, to despise her. If I were not so proud, I should say to you,therefore, 'Make me not that which you would not have me!' I _am_ tooproud, too strong, too confident in the right to say so. But I _do_say, 'Make me not scorn you, cast you away from me, _hate_ you.' Icould do all these things, Arthur Gordon, and, though they kill me, I_will_ do them, if ever more I hear from your tongue or see in youreye a doubt of my honour--of my love. I have said enough--should havesaid too much had I not seen in you aforetime the germs of this folly,which, if not nipped in the bud, will make you, will make both of usindeed wretched. Now I will go and join our hostess; and do you seekthe Partisan and decide upon our future movements."

  He raised his eyes slowly to meet her glance, and as he met it nolonger fiery or indignant, but full of confidence and love, a faintsmile played over his lips, and he stretched out his arms half timidlytoward her, with this one word:

  "Julia!"

  And she refused not the proffered embrace, but fell on his bosom andkissed him tenderly; and then withdrawing herself gently from his arms,said, with her own bright, beaming smile:

  "Now go--go your way, silly boy--and beware how you let that noble manperceive your folly."

  "He should not, for my life!" answered the young dragoon, as with alight heart, a firm step, and a mind perfectly re-assured and easy hewent forth by one door into the court-yard as she passed by the otherinto Marguerita's boudoir.