by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
It wanted but an hour of midnight. There was a moon in the sky, but sonear the horizon, that the bluff bounding the southern side of thevalley threw out a shadow to the distance of many yards upon the plain.
Parallel to the line of the cliffs, and close in to their base, ahorseman could be seen advancing up the valley from the lower end of thesettlement. His cautious pace, and the anxious glances which he atintervals cast before him, showed that he was travelling with someapprehension, and was desirous of remaining unseen. It was evident,too, that this was his object in keeping within the shadow of the cliff;for on arriving at certain points where the precipice became slantingand cast no shadow, he would halt for a while, and, after carefullyreconnoitring the ground, pass rapidly over it. Concealment could behis only object in thus closely hugging the bluffs, for a much betterroad could have been found at a little distance out from them.
After travelling for many miles in this way, the horseman at lengtharrived opposite the town, which still, however, was three miles distantfrom the cliff. From this point a road led off to the town,communicating between it and a pass up the bluffs to the left.
The horseman halted, and gazed awhile along the road, as if undecidedwhether to take it or not. Having resolved in the negative, he movedon, and rode nearly a mile farther under the shadow of the bluffs.Again he halted, and scanned the country to his right. A bridle-pathseemed to run in the direction of the town, or towards a point somewhatabove it. After a short examination the horseman seemed to recognisethis path as one he was in search of, and, heading his horse into it, heparted from the shadow of the bluffs, and rode out under the fullmoonlight. This, shining down upon him, showed a young man of fineproportions, dressed in ranchero costume, and mounted upon a noblesteed, whose sleek black coat glittered under the silvery light. It waseasy to know the rider. His bright complexion, and light-coloured haircurling thickly under the brim of his sombrero, were characteristics notto be mistaken in that land of dark faces. He was Carlos the cibolero.It could be seen now that a large wolf-like dog trotted near the heelsof the horse. That dog was Cibolo.
Advancing in the direction of the town, the caution of the horsemanseemed to increase.
The country before him was not quite open. It was level; butfortunately for him, its surface was studded with copse-like islands oftimber, and here and there straggling patches of chapparal through,which the path led. Before entering these the dog preceded him, butwithout noise or bark; and when emerging into the open plain again, thehorseman each time halted and scanned the ground that separated him fromthe next copse, before attempting to pass over it.
Proceeding in this way, he arrived at length within several hundredyards of the outskirts of the town, and could see the walls, with thechurch cupola shining over the tops of the trees. One line of wall onwhich his eyes were fixed lay nearer than the rest. He recognised itsoutline. It was the parapet over the house of Don Ambrosio--in the rearof which he had now arrived.
He halted in a small copse of timber, the last upon the plain. Beyond,in the direction of Don Ambrose's house, the ground was open and levelup to the bank of the stream already described as running along thebottom of the garden. The tract was a meadow belonging to Don Ambrosio,and used for pasturing the horses of his establishment. It wasaccessible to these by means of a rude bridge that crossed the streamoutside the walls of the garden. Another bridge, however, joined thegarden itself to the meadow. This was much slighter and of neaterconstruction--intended only for foot-passengers. It was, in fact, amere private bridge, by which the fair daughter of Don Ambrosio couldcross to enjoy her walk in the pleasant meadow beyond. Upon this littlebridge, at its middle part, was a gate with lock and key, to keepintruders from entering the precincts of the garden.
This bridge was not over three hundred yards from the copse in whichCarlos had halted, and nothing intervened but the darkness to preventhim from having a view of it. However, as the moon was still up, hecould distinctly see the tall posterns, and light-coloured palings ofthe gate, glimmering in her light. The stream he could not see--as atthis point it ran between high banks--and the garden itself was hiddenfrom view by the grove of cotton-woods and china-trees growing along itsbottom.
After arriving in the copse Carlos dismounted; and having led his horseinto the darkest shadow of the trees, there left him. He did not tiehim to anything, but merely rested the bridle over the pommel of thesaddle, so that it might not draggle upon the ground. He had long agotrained the noble animal to remain where he was placed without otherfastening than this.
This arrangement completed, he walked forward to the edge of theunderwood, and there stood with his eyes fixed upon the bridge and thedark grove beyond it. It was not the first time for him to go throughall the manoeuvres here described--no, not by many--but, perhaps, on noother occasion were his emotions so strong and strange as on thepresent.
He had prepared himself for the interview he was now expecting--he hadpromised himself a frankness of speech his modesty had never beforepermitted him to indulge in--he had resolved on proposals--the rejectionor acceptance of which might determine his future fate. His heart beatwithin his breast so as to be audible to his own ears.
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Perfect stillness reigned through the town. The inhabitants had allretired to their beds, and not a light appeared from door or window.All were close shut and fast bolted. No one appeared in the streets,except the half-dozen "serenos" who formed the night-watch of the place.These could be seen muffled up in their dark cloaks, sitting halfasleep on the banquetas of houses, and grasping in one hand their hugehalberds, while their lanterns rested upon the pavement at their feet.
Perfect stillness reigned around the mansion of Don Ambrosio. Thegreat gate of the zaguan was closed and barred, and the portero hadretired within his "lodge," thus signifying that all the inmates of thedwelling had returned home. If silence denoted sleep, all were asleep;but a ray of light escaping through the silken curtains of a glass door,and falling dimly upon the pavement of the patio, showed that one atleast still kept vigil. That light proceeded from the chamber ofCatalina.
All at once the stillness of the night was broken by the loud tolling ofa bell. It was the clock of the parroquia announcing the hour ofmidnight.
The last stroke had not ceased to reverberate when the light in thechamber appeared to be suddenly extinguished--for it no longer glowedthrough the curtain.
Shortly after, the glass door was silently opened from the inside; and afemale form closely muffled came forth, and glided with stealthy andsinuous step around the shadowy side of the patio. The tall elegantfigure could not be hidden by the disguise of the ample cloak in whichit was muffled, and the graceful gait appeared even when constrained andstealthy. It was the Senorita herself.
Having passed round the patio, she entered the avenue that led to thegarden. Here a heavy door barred the egress from the house, and beforethis she stopped. Only a moment. A key appeared from under her cloak,and the large bolt with some difficulty yielded to her woman's strength.It did not yield silently. The rusty iron sounded as it sprang backinto the lock, causing her to start and tremble. She even returned backthrough the avenue, to make sure whether any one had heard it; and,standing in the dark entrance, glanced round the patio. Had she notheard a door closing as she came back? She fancied so; and alarmed byit, she stood for some time gazing upon the different doors that openedupon the court. They were all close shut, her own not excepted, for shehad closed it on coming out. Still her fancy troubled her, and, buthalf satisfied, she returned to the gate.
This she opened with caution, and, passing through, traversed the restof the avenue, and came out in the open ground. Keeping under theshadow of the trees and shrubbery, she soon reached the grove at thebottom of the garden. Here she paused for a moment, and, lookingthrough the stems of the trees, scanned the open surfa
ce in thedirection of the copse where Carlos had halted.
No object was visible but the outlines of the timber island itself,under whose shadow a human form in dark clothing could not have beenrecognised at such a distance.
After pausing a moment she glided among the trees of the grove, and thenext moment stood, upon the centre and highest point of the bridge infront of the little gate. Here she again stopped, drew from under hercloak a white cambric handkerchief, and, raising herself to her fullheight, held it spread out between her hands.
The air was filled with fire-flies, whose light sparkled thickly againstthe dark background of the copsewood; but these did not prevent her fromdistinguishing a brighter flash, like the snapping of a lucifer-match,that appeared among them. Her signal was answered!
She lowered the handkerchief, and, taking out a small key, applied it tothe lock of the gate. This was undone in a second, and, having thrownopen the wicket, she retired within the shadow of the grove, and stoodwaiting.
Even in that dark shadow her eyes sparkled with the light of love, asshe saw a form--the form of a man on foot, parting from the copse, andcoming in the direction of the bridge. It was to her the dearest onearth; and she awaited the approach with a flushed cheek and a heartfull of joyful emotion.