The Rifle Rangers by Mayne Reid (best free e book reader txt) đ
- Author: Mayne Reid
Book online «The Rifle Rangers by Mayne Reid (best free e book reader txt) đ». Author Mayne Reid
When I awoke all was darkness around me. I threw out my arms and opened the damask curtains. Not a ray of light entered the room. I felt refreshed, and from this I concluded I must have slept long. I slipped out upon the floor and commenced groping for my watch. Someone knocked.
âCome in!â I called.
The door opened, and a flood of light gushed into the apartment. It was a servant bearing a lamp.
âWhat is the hour?â I demanded.
âNine oâclock, mi amo,â (my master), was the reply.
The servant set down the lamp and went out. Another immediately entered, carrying a salver with a small gold cup.
âWhat have you there?â
âChocolate, master; Dona Joaquina has sent it.â
I drank off the beverage, and hastened to dress myself. I was reflecting whether I should pass on to camp without seeing any one of the family. Somehow, my heart felt less heavy. I believe the morning always brings relief to pain, either mental or bodily. It seems to be a law of natureâat least, so my experience tells me. The morning air, buoyant and balmy, dulls the edge of anguish. New hopes arise and new projects appear with the sun. The invalid, couch-tossing through the long watches of the night, will acknowledge this truth.
I did not approach the mirror. I dared not.
âI will not looked upon the loved, the hated faceâno, on to the camp!âlet Letheâ. Has my friend arisen?â
âYes, master; he has been up for hours.â
âHa! where is he?â
âIn the garden, master.â
âAlone?â
âNo, master; he is with the niñas.â
âHappy, light-hearted Clayley! No jealous thoughts to torture him!â mused I, as I buckled on my stock.
I had observed that the fair-haired sister and he were kindred spiritsâsympathetic natures, who only needed to be placed en rapport to âlike each other mightilyââbeings who could laugh, dance, and sing together, romp for months, and then get married, as a thing of course; but, should any accident prevent this happy consummation, could say âgood-byeâ and part without a broken heart on either side; an easy thing for natures like theirs; a return exchange of numerous billets-doux, a laugh over the past, and a light heart for the future. Such is the history of many a love. I can vouch for it. How different withâ
âTell my friend, when he returns to the house, that I wish to see him.â
âYes, master.â
The servant bowed and left the room.
In a few minutes Clayley made his appearance, gay as a grasshopper.
âSo, good lieutenant, you have been improving your time, I hear?â
âHavenât I, though? Such a delicious stroll! Haller, this is a paradise.â
âWhere have you been?â
âFeeding the swans,â replied Clayley, with a laugh. âBut, by the way, your chĂšre amie hangs her pretty head this morning. She seems hurt that you have not been up. She kept constantly looking towards the house.â
âClayley, will you do me the favour to order the men to their saddles?â
âWhat! going so soon? Not before breakfast, though?â
âIn five minutes.â
âWhy, Captain, whatâs the matter? And such a breakfast as they are getting! Oh, Don CosmĂ© will not hear of it.â
âDon CosmĂ©â.â
Our host entered at that moment, and, listening to his remonstrances, the order was rescinded, and I consented to remain.
I saluted the ladies with as much courtesy as I could assume. I could not help the coldness of my manner, and I could perceive that with her it did not pass unobserved.
We sat down to the breakfast-table; but my heart was full of bitterness, and I scarcely touched the delicate viands that were placed before me.
âYou do not eat, Captain. I hope you are well?â said Don CosmĂ©, observing my strange and somewhat rude demeanour.
âThank, you, Señor, I never enjoyed better health.â
I studiously avoided looking towards her, paying slight attentions to her sister. This is the game of piques. Once or twice I ventured a side-glance. Her eyes were bent upon me with a strange, inquiring look.
They are swimming in tears, and soft, and forgiving. They are swollen. She has been weeping. That is not strange. Her brotherâs danger is, no doubt, the cause of her sorrow.
Yet, is there not reproach in her looks? Reproach! How ill does my conduct of last night correspond with this affected coldnessâthis rudeness! Can she, too, be suffering?
I arose from the table, and, walking forth, ordered Lincoln to prepare the men for marching.
I strolled down among the orange-trees. Clayley followed soon after, accompanied by both the girls. Don Cosmé remained at the house to superintend the saddling of his mule, while Dona Joaquina was packing the necessary articles into his portmanteau.
Following some silent instinct, weâGuadalupe and Iâcame together. Clayley and his mistress had strayed away, leaving us alone. I had not yet spoken to her. I felt a strange impulseâa desire to know the worst. I felt as one looking over a fearful precipice.
Then I will brave the danger; it can be no worse than this agony of suspicion and suspense.
I turned towards her. Her head was bent to one side. She was crushing an orange-flower between her fingers, and her eyes seemed to follow the dropping fragments.
How beautiful was she at that moment!
âThe artist certainly has not flattered you.â
She looked at me with a bewildered expression. Oh, those swimming eyes!
She did not understand me.
I repeated the observation.
âSeñor Capitan, what do you mean?â
âThat the painter has not done you justice. The portrait is certainly a likeness, yet the expression, I think, should have been younger.â
âThe painter! What painter? The portrait! What portrait, Señor?â
âI refer to your portrait, which I accidentally found hanging in my apartment.â
âAh! by the mirror?â
âYes, by the mirror,â I answered sullenly.
âBut, it is not mine, Señor Capitan.â
âHa!âhow? Not yours?â
âNo; it is the portrait of my cousin, Maria de Merced. They say we were much alike.â
My heart expanded. My whole frame quivered under the influence of joyful emotions.
âAnd the gentleman?â I faltered out.
âDon Emilio? He was cousinâs loverâhuyeron,â (they eloped).
As she repeated the last word she turned her head away, and I thought there was a sadness in her manner.
I was about to speak, when she continued:
âIt was her roomâwe have not touched anything.â
âAnd where is your cousin now?â
âWe know not.â
âThere is a mystery,â thought I. I pressed the subject no farther. It was nothing to me now. My heart was happy.
âLet us walk farther, Lupita.â
She turned her eyes upon me with an expression of wonder. The change in my mannerâso suddenâhow was she to account for it? I could have knelt before her and explained all. Reserve disappeared, and the confidence of the preceding night was fully restored.
We wandered along under the guardarayas, amidst sounds and scenes suggestive of love and tenderness. Love! We heard it in the songs of the birdsâin the humming of the beesâin the voices of all nature around us. We felt it in our own hearts. The late cloud had passed, making the sky still brighter than before; the reaction had heightened our mutual passion to the intensity of non-resistance; and we walked on, her hand clasped in mine. We had eyes only for each other.
We reached a clump of cocoa-trees; one of them had fallen, and its smooth trunk offered a seat, protected from the sun by the shadowy leaves of its fellows. On this we sat down. There was no resistanceâno reasoning processâno calculation of advantages and chances, such as is too often mingled with the noble passion of love. We felt nothing of thisânothing but that undefinable impulse which had entered our hearts, and to whose mystical power neither of us dreamed of offering opposition. Delay and duty were alike forgotten.
âI shall ask the question nowâI shall know my fate at once,â were my thoughts.
In the changing scenes of a soldierâs life there is but little time for the slow formalities, the zealous vigils, the complicated finesse of courtship. Perhaps this consideration impelled me. I have but little confidence in the cold heart that is won by a series of assiduities. There is too much calculation of after-eventsâtoo much selfishness.
These reflections passed through my mind. I bent towards my companion, and whispered to her in that languageârich above all others in the vocabulary of the heart:
âGuadalupe, tu me amas?â (Guadalupe, do you love me?)
âYo te amo!â was the simple reply. Need I describe the joyful feelings that filled my heart at that moment? My happiness was complete.
The confession rendered her sacred in my eyes, and we sat for some time silent, enjoying that transport only known to those who have truly, purely loved.
The trampling of hoofs! It was Clayley at the head of the troop. They were mounted, and waiting for me. Don Cosmé was impatient; so was the Dona Joaquina. I could not blame them, knowing the cause.
âRide forward! I shall follow presently.â
The horsemen filed off into the fields, headed by the lieutenant, beside whom rode Don Cosmé, on his white mule.
âYou will soon return, Enrique?â
âI shall lose no opportunity of seeing you. I shall long for the hour more than you, I fear.â
âOh! no, no!â
âBelieve me yes, Lupita! Say again you will never cease to love me.â
âNever, never! Tuyaâtuyaâhasta la muerte!â (Yoursâyoursâtill death!)
How often has this question been asked! How often answered as above!
I sprang into the saddle. A parting lookâanother from a distanceâa wave of the handâand the next moment I was urging my horse in full gallop under the shadowy palms.
I overtook my companions as they were entering the woods. Clayley, who had been looking back from time to time, brushed alongside, as if wishing to enter into conversation.
âHard work, Captain, to leave such quarters. By Jove! I could have stayed for ever.â
âCome, Clayleyâyou are in love.â
âYes; they who live in glass housesâ. Oh! if I could only speak the lingo as you do!â
I could not help smiling, for I had overheard him through the trees making the most he could of his partnerâs broken English. I was curious to know how he had sped, and whether he had been as âquick upon the triggerâ as myself. My curiosity was soon relieved.
âI tell you, Captain,â he continued, âif I could only have talked it, I would have put the question on the spot. I did try to get a âyesâ or a ânoâ out of her; but she either couldnât or wouldnât understand me. It was all bad luck.â
âCould you not make her understand you? Surely she knows English enough for that?â
âI thought so too; but when I spoke about love she only laughed and slapped me on the face with her fan. Oh, no; the thing must be done in Spanish, thatâs plain; and you see I am going to set about it in earnest. She loaned me these.â
Saying this, he pulled out of the crown of his foraging-cap a couple of small volumes, which I recognised as a Spanish grammar and dictionary. I could not resist laughing aloud.
âComrade, you will find the best dictionary to be the lady herself.â
âThatâs true; but how the deuce are we to get back again? A mule-hunt donât happen every day.â
âI fancy there will be some difficulty in it.â
I had already thought of this. It was no easy matter to steal away from campâoneâs brother-officers are so solicitous about your appearance at drills and parades. Don CosmĂ©âs rancho was at least ten miles from the lines, and the road would not be the safest for the solitary lover. The prospect of frequent returns was not at all flattering.
âCanât we steal out at night?â suggested Clayley. âI think we might mount half a dozen of our fellows, and do it snugly. What do you say, Captain?â
âClayley, I cannot return without this brother. I have almost given my word to that
Comments (0)