by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
The officer, from his position, had a full view of the girl as she stoodin the little enclosure of flowers. She had retreated to the door, andwould have gone inside, but she turned to call off Cibolo, a largewolf-dog, who was barking fiercely, and threatening the new-comer.
The dog, obedient to her voice, ran back into the house growling, but byno means satisfied. He evidently wanted to try his teeth on the shanksof the stranger's horse.
"Thank you, fair Senorita," said the officer. "It is very kind of youto protect me from that fierce brute. I would he were the only clangourI had to fear in this house."
"What have you to fear, Senor?" inquired Rosita, with some surprise.
"_Your eyes_, sweet girl: more dangerous than the sharp teeth of yourdog,--they have already wounded me."
"Cavallero," replied Rosita, blushing and averting her face, "you havenot come here to jest with a poor girl. May I inquire what is yourbusiness?"
"Business I have none, lovely Rosita, but to see _you_,--nay, do notleave me!--I _have_ business--that is, I am thirsty, and halted for adrink: you will not refuse me a cup of water, fair Senorita?"
These last phrases, broken and hastily delivered, were meant to restrainthe girl from cutting short the interview, which she was about to do byentering the house. Vizcarra was not thirsty, neither did he wish forwater; but the laws of hospitality would compel the girl to bring it,and the act might further his purposes.
She, without replying to his complimentary harangue, stepped into thehouse, and presently returned with a gourd-shell filled with water.Carrying it to the gate-like opening of the fences, she presented it tohim, and stood waiting for the vessel.
Vizcarra, to make his request look natural, forced down several gulps ofthe fluid, and then, throwing away the rest, held out the gourd. Thegirl stretched forth her hand to receive it, but he still held it fast,gazing intently and rudely upon her.
"Lovely senorita," he said, "may I not kiss that pretty hand that hasbeen so kind to me?"
"Sir! please return me the cup."
"Nay, not till I have paid for my drink. You will accept this?"
He dropped a gold onza into the gourd.
"No, Senor, I cannot accept payment for what is only an act of duty. Ishall not take your gold," she added, firmly.
"Lovely Rosita! you have already taken my heart, why not this?"
"I do not understand you, Senor; please put back your money, and let mehave the cup."
"I shall not deliver it up, unless you take it with its contents."
"Then you must keep it, Senor," replied she, turning away. "I must tomy work."
"Nay, further, Senorita!" cried Vizcarra; "I have another favour toask,--a light for my cigar? Here, take the cup! See! the coin is nolonger in it! You will pardon me for having offered it?"
Vizcarra saw that she was offended, and by this apology endeavoured toappease her.
She received the gourd-shell from his hands, and then went back to thehouse to bring him the light he had asked for.
Presently she reappeared with some red coals upon a small "brazero."
On reaching the gate she was surprised to see that the officer haddismounted, and was fastening his horse to a stake.
As she offered him the brazero, he remarked, "I am wearied with my ride;may I beg, Senorita, you will allow me a few minutes' shelter from thehot sun?"
Though annoyed at this request, the girl could only reply in theaffirmative; and the next moment, with clattering spur and clankingsabre, the Comandante walked into the rancho.
Rosita followed him in without a word, and without a word he wasreceived by her mother, who, seated in the corner, took no notice of hisentrance, not even by looking up at him. The dog made a circuit aroundhim, growling angrily, but his young mistress chided him off; and thebrute once more couched himself upon a petate, and lay with eyesgleaming fiercely at the intruder.
Once in the house, Vizcarra did not feel easy. He saw he was notwelcome. Not a word of welcome had been uttered by Rosita, and not asign of it offered either by the old woman or the dog. The contrarysymptoms were unmistakeable, and the grand officer felt he was anintruder.
But Vizcarra was not accustomed to care much for the feelings of peoplelike these. He paid but little regard to their likes or dislikes,especially where these interfered with his pleasures; and, afterlighting his cigar, he sat down on a "banqueta," with as muchnonchalance as if he were in his own quarters. He smoked some timewithout breaking silence.
Meanwhile Rosita had drawn out her loom, and, kneeling down in front ofit, went on with her work as if no stranger were present.
"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the officer, feigning interest in the process,"how very ingenious! I have often wished to see this! a reboso it is?Upon my _word_! and that is how they are woven? Can you finish one in aday, Senorita?"
"_Si, Senor_," was the curt reply.
"And this thread, it is cotton; is it not?"
"Si, Senor."
"It is very prettily arranged indeed. Did you place it so yourself?"
"Si, Senor."
"Really it requires skill! I should like much to learn how the threadsare passed."
And as he said this he left his seat upon the banqueta, and, approachingthe loom, knelt down beside it.
"Indeed, very singular and ingenious. Ah, now, do you think, prettyRosita, you could teach me?"
The old woman, who was seated with her eyes bent upon the ground,started at hearing the stranger pronounce her daughter's name, andglanced around at him.
"I am really serious," continued he; "do you think you could teach methis useful art?"
"No, Senor!" was the laconic reply.
"Oh! surely I am not so stupid! I think I could learn it--it seems onlyto hold this thing so,"--here he bent forward, and placed his hand uponthe shuttle, so as to touch the fingers of the girl,--"and then put itbetween the threads in this manner; is it not--?"
At this moment, as if carried away by his wild passions, he seemed toforget himself; and, turning his eyes upon the blushing girl, hecontinued in an under tone, "Sweetest Rosita! I love you,--one kiss,fairest,--one kiss!" and before she could escape from his arms, whichhad already encircled her, he had imprinted a kiss upon her lips!
A scream escaped from the girl, but another, louder and wilder, answeredit from the corner. The old woman sprang up from her crouchingposition, and running across the floor launched herself like a tigressupon the officer! Her long bony fingers flew out, and in an instantwere clutching his throat!
"Off! beldame! off!" cried he, struggling to escape: "off I say; or mysword shall cut short your wretched life, off!--off!--I say!"
Still the old woman clutched and screamed, tearing wildly at his throat,his epaulettes, or whatever she could lay hold of.
But sharper than her nails were the teeth of the great wolf-dog thatsprang almost simultaneously from his lair, and, seizing the soldier bythe limbs, caused him to bellow out at the top of his voice--
"Without there! Sergeant Gomez! Ho! treason! to the rescue! to therescue!"
"Ay! dog of a Gachupino!" screamed the old woman,--"dog of Spanishblood! you may call your cowardly myrmidons! Oh! that my brave son werehere, or my husband alive! If they were, you would not carry a drop ofyour villain blood beyond the threshold you have insulted!--Go!--go toyour poblanas--your _margaritas_! Go--begone!"
"Hell and furies! This dog--take him off! Ho, there! Gomez! yourpistols. Here! send a bullet through him! Haste! haste!"
And battling with his sabre, the valiant Comandante at length effected aretreat to his horse.
He was already well torn about the legs, but, covered by the sergeant,he succeeded in getting into the saddle.
The latter fired off both his pistols at the dog, but the bullets didnot take effect; and the animal, perceiving that his enemies outnumberedhim, turned and ran back into the house.
The dog was now silent, but the Com
andante, as he sat in his saddle,heard a derisive laugh within the rancho. In the clear soft tones ofthat jeering laughter he distinguished the voice of the beautiful guera!
Chagrined beyond measure, he would have besieged the rancho with histroop, and insisted on killing the dog, had he not feared that the causeof his ungraceful retreat might become known to his followers. Thatwould be a mortification he did not desire to experience.
He returned, therefore, to the troop, gave the word to march, and thecavalcade moved off, taking the backward road to the town.
After riding at the head of his men for a short while, Vizcarra--whoseheart was filled with anger and mortification--gave some orders to thesergeant, and then rode off in advance, and in full gallop.
The sight of a horseman in blue manga, passing in the direction of therancho--and whom he recognised as the young ranchero, Don Juan--did notdo much towards soothing his angry spirit. He neither halted nor spoke,but, casting on the latter a malignant glance, kept on.
He did not slacken his pace until he drew bridle in the saguan of thePresidio.
His panting horse had to pay for the bitter reflections that torturedthe soul of his master.