CHAPTER XVII
He had received a note of sympathy from her soon after his uncle's deathand he had called at the Roths' once, but had found several other callersthere and no opportunity of being alone with her. Then she had gone awayon a two-weeks, automobile trip to the Mesa Verde National Park, so thathe had seen practically nothing of her. But all of this time he had beenthinking of her more confidently than ever before. He was rich now, he wasstrong. All of the preliminaries had been finished. He could go to her andclaim her.
He called her on the telephone from his office, and the Mexican maidanswered. She would see if Miss Roth was in. After a long wait shereported that Miss Roth was out. He tried again that day, and a third timethe next morning with a like result.
This filled him with anxious, angry bewilderment. He felt sure she had notreally been out all three times. Were her mother and brother keeping hismessage from her? Or had something turned her against him? He rememberedwith a keen pang of anxiety, for the first time, the insinuations ofFather Lugaria. Could that miserable rumour have reached her? He had noidea how she would have taken it if it had. He really did not know orunderstand this girl at all; he merely loved her and desired her with adesire which had become the ruling necessity of his life. To him she was abeing of a different sort, from a different world--a mystery. They hadnothing in common but a rebellious discontent with life, and thisglamorous bewildering thing, so much stronger than they, so far beyondtheir comprehension, which they called their love.
That was the one thing he knew and counted on. He knew how imperiously itdrove him, and he knew that she had felt its power too. He had seen itshine in her eyes, part her lips; he had heard it in her voice, and feltit tremble in her body. If only he could get to her this potent thingwould carry them to its purpose through all barriers.
Angry and resolute, he set himself to a systematic campaign oftelephoning. At last she answered. Her voice was level, quiet, weary.
"But I have an engagement for tonight," she told him.
"Then let me come tomorrow," he urged.
"No; I can't do that. Mother is having some people to dinner.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
At last he begged her to set a date, but she refused, declared that herplans were unfixed, told him to call "some other time."
His touchy pride rebelled now. He cursed these gringos. He hated them. Hewished for the power to leave her alone, to humble her by neglect. But heknew that he did have it. Instead he waited a few days and then drove tothe house in his car, having first carefully ascertained by watching thatshe was at home.
All three of them received him in their sitting room, which they calledthe library. It was an attractive room, sunny and tastefully furnished,with a couple of book cases filled with new-looking books in sets, asilver tea service on a little wheeled table, flowers that matched thewall paper, and a heavy mahogany table strewn with a not-too-disorderlyarray of magazines and paper knives. It was the envy of the local womenwith social aspirations because it looked elegant and yet comfortable.
Conversation was slow and painful. Mrs. Roth and her son were icilyformal, confining themselves to the most commonplace remarks. And Juliadid not help him, as she had on his first visit. She looked pale and tiredand carefully avoided his eyes.
When he had been there about half an hour, Mrs. Roth turned to herdaughter.
"Julia," she said, "If we are going to get to Mrs. MacDougall's athalf-past four you must go and get ready. You will excuse her, won't youMr. Delcasar?"
The girl obediently went up stairs without shaking hands, and a fewminutes later Ramon went away, feeling more of misery and less ofself-confidence than ever before in his life.
He almost wholly neglected his work. Cortez brought him a report thatMacDougall had a new agent, who was working actively in Arriba County, buthe paid no attention to it. His life seemed to have lost purpose andinterest. For the first time he doubted her love. For the first time hereally feared that he would lose her.
Most of his leisure was spent riding or walking about the streets, in thehope of catching a glimpse of her. He passed her house as often as hedared, and studied her movements. When he saw her in the distance he feltan acute thrill of mingled hope and misery. Only once did he meet herfairly, walking with her brother, and then she either failed to see him orpretended not to.
One afternoon about five o'clock he left his office and started home inhis car. A storm was piling up rapidly in big black clouds that rose frombehind the eastern mountains like giants peering from ambush. It wassultry; there were loud peals of thunder and long crooked flashes oflightning. At this season of late summer the weather staged such aportentous display almost every afternoon, and it rained heavily in themountains; but the showers only reached the thirsty _mesa_ and valleylands about one day in four.
Ramon drove home slowly, gloomily wondering whether it would rain andhoping that it would. A Southwesterner is always hoping for rain, and inhis present mood the rush and beat of a storm would have been especiallywelcome.
His hopes were soon fulfilled. There was a cold blast of wind, carrying afew big drops, and then a sudden, drumming downpour that tore up the dustof the street and swiftly converted it into a sea of mud cut by yellowrivulets.
As his car roared down the empty street, he glimpsed a woman standing inthe shelter of a big cottonwood tree, cowering against its trunk. A quickthrill shot through his body. He jammed down the brake so suddenly thathis car skidded and sloughed around. He carefully turned and brought up atthe curb.
She started at sight of him as he ran across the side-walk toward her.
"Come on quick!" he commanded, taking her by the arm, "I'll get you home."Before she had time to say anything he had her in the car, and they weredriving toward the Roth house. By the time they had reached it the firststrength of the shower was spent, and there was only a light scatteringrain with a rift showing in the clouds over the mountains.
He deliberately passed the house, putting on more speed as he did so.
"But {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I thought you were going to take me home," she said, putting a handon his arm.
"I'm not," he announced, without looking around. His hands and eyes werefully occupied with his driving, but a great suspense held his breath. Thehand left his arm, and he heard her settle back in her seat with a sigh. Agreat warm wave of joy surged through him.
He took the mountain road, which was a short cut between Old Town and themountains, seldom used except by wood wagons. Within ten minutes they werespeeding across the _mesa_. The rain was over and the clouds runningacross the sky in tatters before a fresh west wind. Before them therolling grey-green waste of the _mesa_, spotted and veined with silverwaters, reached to the blue rim of the mountains--empty and free as anundiscovered world.
He slowed his car to ten miles an hour and leaned back, steering with onehand. The other fell upon hers, and closed over it. For a time they drovealong in silence, conscious only of that electrical contact, and of thewind playing in their faces and the soft rhythmical hum of the greatengine.
At the crest of a rise he stopped the car and stood up, looking all aboutat the vast quiet wilderness, filling his lungs with air. He liked thatserene emptiness. He had always felt at peace with these still desolatelands that had been the background of most of his life. Now, with theconsciousness of the woman beside him, they filled him with a sort ofrapture, an ecstasy of reverence that had come down to him perhaps fromsavage forebears who had worshipped the Earth Mother with love and awe.
He dropped down beside her again and without hesitation gathered her intohis arms. After a moment he held her a little away from him and lookedinto her eyes.
"Why wouldn't you let me come to see you? Why did you treat me that way?"he plead.
She dropped her eyes.
"They made me."
"But why? Because I'm a Mexican? And does that make any difference toyou?"
"O, I can't tell you.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Th
ey say awful things about you. I don't believethem. No; nothing about you makes any difference to me."
He held her close again.
"Then you'll go away with me?"
"Yes," she answered slowly, nodding her head. "I'll go anywhere with you."
"Now!" he demanded. "Will you go now? We can drive through Scissors Passto Abol on the Southeastern and take a train to Denver.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
"O, no, not now," she plead. "Please not now.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I can't go like this.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
"Yes; now," he urged. "We'll never have a better chance.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
"I beg you, if you love me, don't make me go now. I must think {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} and getready.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Why I haven't even got any powder for my nose."
They both laughed. The tension was broken. They were happy.
"Give me a little while to get ready," she proposed, "and I'll go when yousay."
"You promise?"
"Cross my heart.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} On my life and honour. Please take me home now, so theywon't suspect anything. If only nobody sees us! Please hurry. It'll bedark pretty soon. You can write to me. It's so lonely out here!"
He turned his car and drove slowly townward, his free hand seeking hersagain. It was dusk when they reached the streets. Stopping his car in theshadow of a tree, he kissed her and helped her out.
He sat still and watched her out of sight. A tinge of sadness and regretcrept into his mind, and as he drove homeward it grew into an activediscontent with himself. Why had he let her go? True, he had proved herlove, but now she was to be captured all over again. He ought to havetaken her. He had been a fool. She would have gone. She had begged him notto take her, but if he had insisted, she would have gone. He had been afool!
The Blood of the Conquerors Page 17