Beadle's New York Dime Library, Vol. II, No. 15 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

rs os CP ss Ee a. oi 6 a Se POP ae eet c Ee ial - ——— ee ee - ~ — Fa ee hone CoS Ss nwt ———_—_—_—_—_—————D———— ~ == ee 2 So Qe -—— i ae ings - — <=> = 2. = So. a P= ES ss <= =—s eh * - oar — _ > as =r a ie a = eee ow 9 ee ee - — - ° = == = —— = eo - ~~? ———— ST i Pera eee ——-- Es 26 our retreat may be perhaps cut off. Come, I i you!” ‘*No, my father!’’ she said, shaking her head. ‘‘Ilam i : whatever may hap- pen, I repeat, T will not leave this spot.” ‘It, is nadness,”’ the haciendero exclaim- ed,in great grief. ‘* You wish to die, then?” 4 at matter to me ?’’ she said, sorrow- fully. ‘“‘Am I not condemned in ever way? Heaven is my witness, father, that would gladly die to escape the marriage pre- pared for me.” **My daughter, in the Virgin’s name—” ‘*What do you care, father, whether I fall into the hands of savages to-day, when to- morrow you would surrender me with your own hands to a man I detest ?”’ ‘Speak not to me thus, daughter. Be. sides, the moment is very badly chosen, it seems to me, for a discussion like this, Come, the shouts are growing more furious; it will soon be too late.” “Go, if you think proper,” she said, res- olutely. ‘*I shallremain here, whatever may wa diem on Sylva stopped in hesitation. A few minutes elapsed, during which the father and daughter stood face to face, not uttering a word, or making even a gesture. Suddenly the branches were noisily part- ed, yielding passage to two men, who, rush- ing with panther bounds on the haciendero, hurled him to the ground. Before Don Sylva was able to recognize the enemies who attacked him so unexpectedly by the pale beams of the stars, he was gagged and bound, while a handkerchief twisted round his head hid from him all external objects, and prevented him seeing what his daugh- ter’s fute might be. The latter, at this sud- den attack, uttered a cry of terror, at once rae han checked, for she bad recognized on Martial. ‘“*Silence!”? the Tigrero hurriedly said, in alow voice. “I could manage in no other way. Come, come, your father, you know, is a sacred object to me.” The girl made no reply. At a sign from Don Martial, Cuchares seized Don Sylva, threw him on his shoulders, and went to- ward the mangroves, ‘‘ Where are we going?’ Dona Anita ask- ed, iu a trembling voice, ‘*To a place where we can be happy to- gether,”’ the Tiger-Siayer answered, gently, as he lifted her with a passionate movement, and ran off with her to the canoe. Dona Anita made no resistance: she smiled, and threw her arms round her lover's neck, to keep her balance. Don Martial leaped from branch to branch, holding on by the creepers, and en- ecouraging his lovely burden by signs and looks. Cucharés had placed Don Sylva in the bottom of the canoe, and, paddles in hand, was impatiently awaiting the Tigrero’s arrival; for the combat seemed doubled in intensity, although, from the number of musket-shots, it was easy to see that victory would remain with the French. ‘* What shall we do?’’ Cucharés asked. ‘Get into the middle of the river, and tilp down with the current.’ ‘But our horses!’ . ‘(Let us save ourselves first; we will think of the borses afterward. It is evident that the white men are the victors. Sv soon as the tight is over, Count de Lorailles will send everywhere in search of his guests. It is important net to leave any trail, for the French ure demons, and would find us again.” ‘Still, I fancey—’ Cuchares timidly ob- served. “Pull off!” the Tiger-Slayer said in a per- emptory tone, pushing the canoe from the bank. The first moments of the voyage passed im silence. Don Martial had assumed a tremendous vesponsibility by staking, as it were, on one throw the happiness of the girl he loved and ais own. Besides, the haciendero lying at the bottom of the canoe gave him great sub- ect of thought. The porition was grave, e solution difficult. ; The various sounds of the conflict gradu- ally died out. For some time Jonger the travelers remained silent, absorbed not only in their thoughts, but affected by that gentle mee ae produced on all nervous natures by that solemn calmness and striking har- mony of the desert, whose sublime and ma- — grandeur no human pen is capable of escribing. ' The stars were beginning to pale in the sky; the wild beasts were retreating to their hidden dens, heayy with sleep and fa- tigue; day was on the point. of breaking. Donu Anita leaned affectionately on Don Martial’s shoulder, ‘‘ Where are we going ?”” she asked him, in a gentle and resigned voice, ed. ‘ We are flying,’’ le laconically answer- “We have been descending the river ir umn this way for more than six hours, burne by the current and helped by your four vigor- ously-pulled paddles. Are we not out of reach of danger ?”’ “ Yes, long ago. It is not any fear of the French which troubles me now—” “What then ?’’ The Tigrero pointed to Don Sylva, who, having exliausted his strength and passion, had at length recognized his powerlessness, and was sleeping quite exhausted. “* Alas !’? she said, “ you are right.” “If you will allow me to act as I think proper, before a quarter of an hour your fa- ther will thank me.” “Do you not know that I am entirely yours ?”” “ Thanks !’’ he said, Turning to Cucharés, he muttered a few words in his ear. “Hal thatis an idea,’ the lepero said, with a grin. Two minutes later the canoe ran ashore. Don Sylva, delicately borne by two powerful hands, was carried ashore without waking. ‘* Now it is your turn,’’ Don Martial said to the girl: ‘*‘ for the success of the scheme I bave formed you must allow yourself to be fastened to this tree.’’ ‘Do so, my friend.” The Tiger-Slayer took her in his vigorous arms, bore her ashore, and in a twinkling had fastened her tightly by the waist to the stem of a tree. ‘‘ Now,” he said, hurriedly, ‘‘ remember this. Your father and yourself were carried off from the hacienda by the Apaches; acci- dent brought us in your way, and—’’ ‘You save us, [suppose ?”’ she said with « smile. “Quite correct; but utter shrill cries, as if you felt in great alarm, You understand, do you not?” ** Perfectly.” The play was performed in the way ar- ranged. ‘The girl uttered piercing shricks, to which the two adventurers replied by dis- charging their rifles and pistols; then they rushed toward the haciendero, Whom they hastened to liberate from his bonds, and to whom they restored not only the use of his limbs but his eyes and tongue. Don Sylva half rose, and looked around him: he saw his daughter fastened to a tree, from which two men were hastily freeing her. The haciendero raised his eyes to heaven, and uttered a fervent prayer. So scon as Dona Anita was free she ran to her father, and cast herself in his arms. As she embraced him she hid her face, whick blushed, perhaps, for shame at this unworthy deception, on the old man’s breast. ‘‘My poor darling child,’’ he murmured, with tears in his eyes, “it was for you aloue I trembled during the whole of this fearful night.’’ The girl made no reply; ror she felt stung go the heart by this repreach. Don Martia: and tuehares. ‘udgine the moment favor- able, then approached, holding their smok- ing rifles in their hands. On recognizing them a cleud passed over the haciendero’s face—a vague suspicion gnawed at his heart; he bent a searching glance on the two men and on his daughter, and rose with frowning brow and ia he 1 lips, though not utter- ing a word. Don Martial was embarrassed by this silence, which he had been far from anticipating. After the service he was sup- posed to have done Don Sylva, the duty of speaking first fell upon him. ‘*T am huppy,’’ he said, in an embarrass- ed voice, ‘‘ to have arrived here so fortunate- ly, Don Sylva, as I was enabled to save you from the red-skins.”’ “‘T thank you, Sefor Don Martial,’’ the haciendero answered, dryly. ‘‘I could ex- pect nothing less from your gallantry. It was written, so it seems, that after saving the daughter, you must also save the father. You are destined, I see it, to be the libera- tor of my entire family: receive my sincere thanks.” The Tiger-Slayer bowed low and awaward- ly in order to hide his embarrassment. ‘Leave that out of sight,” he said, hur- riedly. ‘‘ Now that you are free, and can act as you | pone command me. What would you of me? I am ready to do any thing you please, in order to prove to you how happy I should be in doing you @ ser-" vice.” ‘‘That is language I can understand, ca- ballero, and to which I will frankly respond. Important reasons compel me to return to the French colony of Guetzalli, whence the heathens carried me off so treacherously.”’ “When do you wish to start ?”’ ** At once, if that be possible.” “ Every thing is possible, caballero. Still, I would call your attention to the fact that we are nearly thirty leagues from that haci- enda; that the country in which we are now js a desert; that we should have great diffi- culty in finding horses; and, with the best will in the world, we can not make the jour- ney on foot,” | | The New York Library. “*Kspecially my daughter, I presume,” the other remarked with a sardonic smile, ‘* Yes,”’ the Tiger-Slayer said, ‘‘ especially the sejiorita.”’ , ‘* What else is to be done? for I must re- turn there—with my danghter,’’ he added, purposely laying a stress on the last three words, ‘‘and that so soon as possible.”’ The Tiger-Slayer did not utter the exact truth in te‘tling Don Sylva they were thirty leagues from the colony. It was not more than eighteen; but in a country like this, where roads do not exist, fifteen leagues are an almost insurmountable obstacle to a man whois not thoroughly acquainted with desert e, Don Sylva, like a good many of his countrymen, was gifted with rare obstinacy. When he had formed a plan, the greater the. obstacles which prevented its accomplish- nga the greater his determination to carry t out. “Listen,” he said to Don Martial; “1 wish to be frank with you. I fancy | tell you nothing new in announcing m dang . ter’s marriage with the Count de Lorailles. That marriagt must be performed: I have sworn it, and it shull be, whatever may be said or done to impede it. And now lam about to make trial of the devotion you boast of offering me.” ‘* Speak, senor,”’ ‘You will send ‘ee companion to the Count de Lorailles ; he will carry him a mes- sage to calm his uneasiness, and announce my speedy arrival.” **Good!” ‘* Will you do it ?” * At once,” ‘“‘Thanks! Now, as regards yourcelf per- sonally, I leave you at liberty to follow or leave us at your pleasure; but in the first place, we want horses, arms, and, aboye all, an escort. I dv not wish to fal] once mor into the hands of the heathen, Perhaps shall not have the good fortune to escape from them so easily as on this cecasicn.”’ ‘¢ Remain here: in two hours I will return with horses. As foran escort I will try and pracare you one, although I do not promise t. As you allow me to do so, I will accom. any you until you have rejoined the count, hope, during the period I may have the fe- licity of passing near you, to succeed in proving to you that you have judged me wrongfully.’ These words were prouounced with such ap accent of truth that the haciendero felt moved, ‘‘ Whatever may hajpen” he eaid, “J thank you: you will not the less have done me an immense service, for which I shall be ever grateful to you.” Don Sylva tore a leaf from his pocket- book, on which he wrote t few lines in pen- cil, folded it, and handed it to the Tiger- Slayer. “Are you sure of that man?’’ he asked him. ; ‘*As of myself,” Don Martial answered, evasively. ‘* Be assured’ that he will sce the count."’ The haciendero made a sign of satisfac- tion as the Tigrero went up to Cucharés. “ Listen,’’ he said aloud, as he gave him the paper. ‘Within two days you must huve delivered this to the chief of Guetzalli. You understand me ?”’ ““ Yes,”’ the lepero replied. ** Go, and may heaven protect you from all evil encounters! Ina quarter of an hour behind that mound,” he hurriedly added, in & whisper. ‘* Arreed,’’ the other said, with a bow. “Take the canoe,’”’ the Tiger-Slayer con- Guyot. ad the haciendero cereeived an yaoante. they were dissipated when he saw Cacharés leap into the canoe, seize the paddles, and depart without exchangiug even a glance with the Tigrero. ‘The first part of your instructions is ful. filled,’’ the Tigrero said, returning to Don Sylva’s side. ‘*Now for the second part. Take my pistols and rifle. .n case of any alarm you can defend yourself. I leave yow ‘ here. Pray do not move, and within two hours at the latest I will rejoin you.” ‘ “Do you know, then, where to find horses ?” ‘*Do you not remember that the desert is my domain?” he replied, with a melancholy smile. “‘l am at home here, as I shall soon prove to you. Farewell for the present.” And he went off in a direction opposite to that taken by the canoe, When he had dis- appeared from Don Sylva’s sight behind » clump of trees and shrubs, the Tiger-Slay- er turned sharply to the right and ran bac Cucharés, carelessly seated on the ground, wus smoking a cigarette while awaiting him. ‘** No words, but deeds,”’ the Tigrero said. ** We have no time to waste.” “*T am listening.” , ‘Look at this diamond;” and he pointed to aring, through which his neck-bandker- ehicf was drawn, Eomicbooks C (0)