The Lone Ranche. Reid Mayne

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СКАЧАТЬ your feet before another twenty-four hours have passed over your head.”

      “But why, Colonel Miranda?”

      “Because so long as you remain here you will be in danger of losing your life. You don’t know the character of the man with whom you have crossed swords. I do. Although wearing the uniform of an officer in our army, he is simply a salteador. A coward, as I told you, too. He would never have met you if he had thought I would have given him a chance to get out of it. Perhaps he might have been tempted by the hopes of an easy conquest from your supposed want of skill. It would have given him something to boast about among the dames of Chihuahua, for Captain Gil deems himself no little of a lady-killer. You have spoilt his physiognomy for life; and, depend upon it, as long as life lasts, he will neither forget nor forgive that. I shall also come in for a share of his spite, and it behoves both of us to beware of him.”

      “But what can he do to us?”

      “Caballero, that question shows you have not been very long in this country, and are yet ignorant of its customs. In Mexico we have some callings not congenial to your people. Know that stilettoes can here be purchased cheaply, with the arms of assassins to use them. Do you understand me?”

      “I do. But how do you counsel me to act?”

      “As I intend acting myself – take departure from Chihuahua this very day. Our roads are the same as far as Albuquerque, where you will be out of reach of this little danger. I am returning thither from the city of Mexico, where I’ve had business with the Government. I have an escort; and if you choose to avail yourself of it you’ll be welcome to its protection.”

      “Colonel Miranda, again I know not how to thank you. I accept your friendly offer.”

      “Reserve your thanks till I have done you some service beyond the simple duty of a gentleman, who sees another gentleman in a dilemma he had no hand in creating. But enough, señor; we have no time to spend in talking. Even now there may be a couple of poignards preparing for us. Get your things ready at once, as I start two hours before sunset. In this sultry weather we are accustomed to travel in the cool of the evening.”

      “I shall be ready.”

      That same afternoon, two hours before the going down of the sun, a party of horsemen, wearing the uniform of Mexican dragoons of the line, issued from the garita of Chihuahua, and took the northern road leading to Santa Fé, by El Paso del Norte. Colonel Miranda, his ranchero dress changed for the fatigue uniform of a cavalry officer, was at its head, and by his side the stranger, whose cause he had so generously and gallantly espoused.

      Chapter Three.

      The Colonel Commandant

      Six weeks have elapsed since the day of the duel at Chihuahua. Two men are standing on the azotea of a large mansion-like house close to the town of Albuquerque, whose church spire is just visible through the foliage of trees that shade and surround the dwelling. They are Colonel Miranda and the young Kentuckian, who has been for some time his guest; for the hospitality of the generous Mexican had not terminated with the journey from Chihuahua. After three weeks of toilsome travel, including the traverse of the famed “Dead Man’s Journey,” he was continuing to extend it in his own house and his own district, of which last he was the military commandant, Albuquerque being at the time occupied by a body of troops, stationed there for defence against Indian incursions.

      The house on whose roof the two men stood was that in which Colonel Miranda had been born – the patrimonial mansion of a large estate that extended along the Rio del Norte, and back towards the Sierra Blanca, into territories almost unknown.

      Besides being an officer in the Mexican army, the colonel was one of the ricos of the country. The house, as already said, was a large, massive structure, having, like all Mexican dwellings of its class, a terraced roof, or azotea. What is also common enough in that country, it was surmounted by a mirador, or “belvedere.” Standing less than half a mile distant from the soldier’s cuartel, the commandant found it convenient to make use of it as his headquarters. A small guard in the saguan, or covered entrance below, with a sentinel stationed outside the gate in front, indicated this.

      There was no family inside, wife, woman, or child; for the colonel, still a young man, was a bachelor. Only peons in the field, grooms and other servants around the stables, with domestics in the dwelling – all, male and female, being Indians of the race known as “Indios mansos” – brown-skinned and obedient.

      But though at this time there was no living lady to make her soft footsteps heard within the walls of the commandant’s dwelling, the portrait of a lovely girl hung against the side of the main sola, and on this his American guest had more than once gazed in silent admiration. It showed signs of having been recently painted, which was not strange, since it was the likeness of Colonel Miranda’s sister, a few years younger than himself – at the time on a visit to some relatives in a distant part of the Republic. Frank Hamersley’s eyes never rested on it without his wishing the original at home.

      The two gentlemen upon the housetop were leisuring away the time in the indulgence of a cigar, watching the water-fowl that swam and plunged on the bosom of the broad shallow stream, listening to the hoarse croakings of pelicans and the shriller screams of the guaya cranes. It was the hour of evening, when these birds become especially stridulent.

      “And so you must go to-morrow, Señor Francisco?” said his host, taking the cigaritto from between his teeth, and looking inquiringly into the face of the Kentuckian.

      “There is no help for it, colonel. The caravan with which I came out will be leaving Santa Fé the day after to-morrow, and there’s just time for me to get there. Unless I go along with it, there may be no other opportunity for months to come, and one cannot cross the plains alone.”

      “Well, I suppose I must lose you. I am sorry, and selfishly, too, for, as you see, I am somewhat lonely here. There’s not one of my officers, with the exception of our old medico, exactly of the sort to be companionable. True, I have enough occupation, as you may have by this time discovered, in looking after our neighbours, the Indios bravos, who, knowing the skeleton of a regiment I’ve got, are growing saucier every day. I only wish I had a score or two of your stalwart trappers, who now and then pay a visit to Albuquerque. Well, my sister will soon be here, and she, brave girl, has plenty of life in her, though she be but young. What a joyous creature she is, wild as a mustang filly fresh caught. I wish, Don Francisco, you could have stayed to make her acquaintance. I am sure you would be delighted with her.”

      If the portrait on the wall was anything of a faithful likeness, Hamersley could not have been otherwise. This was his reflection, though, for certain reasons, he did not in speech declare it.

      “It is to be hoped we shall meet again, Colonel Miranda,” was his ingenious rejoinder. “If I did not have this hope, I should now be parting from you with greater regret. Indeed, I have more than a presentiment we shall meet again; since I’ve made up my mind on a certain thing.”

      “On what, Don Francisco?”

      “On returning to New Mexico.”

      “To settle in the country?”

      “Not exactly that; only for a time – long enough to enable me to dispose of a cargo of merchandise in exchange for a bag of your big Mexican dollars.”

      “Ah! you intend to become one of the prairie merchants, then?”

      “I do. That intention has been the cause of my visiting your country. I am old enough to think of some СКАЧАТЬ