José — page 273: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

266 JOSE. “Ts it truly, then,” he cried, in a savant tona of suppressed joy; “our—our— “Tt’s Jose, Uncle Bob,” she epost fives him, taking his hand while her eyes grew misty, “and so must remain until she has found a new home somewhere. You shall know all. Uncle Bob: for the present con- tent yourself to believe that Pepita whom you mean has done nothing to merit reproach.” She turned to Baumann; who was approaching. “He will soon recover,” she said, indicating the wounded; “when he opens his eyes let his first gaze be upon a friend’s face,” and with a wink to the man who had assisted her she made an attempt to leave. “One word yet, Jose,” the young Psat cried, confronting her, “you have no longer a secret to yourself,” he continued in an undertone; “neither in regard to yourself nor our friend Green. It is true, you do not yet know that we took the long wearisome march across the desert just to save you from the Apaches, nor that Green declares it im- possible to live apart from you and has unbosomed himself to old Bob from the remotest depth of his heart, nor yet that you might be happy if you but wanted to. Stay, Jose, and if he can recognize you take his hand in yours.” A treacherous red had momentarily suffused her face, then she grew paler than ever before. “Speak not of happiness, sir, in the presence of the dead,” she murmured, in a deep tone, forcing back his hands. Bob shook his head, and was on the eve of putting in a word, when a cry close by suddenly interrupted the scene. Two men had ap- proached with rapid strides. “We are looking for you, young gentleman,” cried Eomichooks (E(0)