Part 16 (1/2)
”Ah, caught! what capital news! I shall be so delighted to see the beautiful thing; and ride it too. I haven't had a horse worth a piece of orange-peel since I've been in Texas. Papa has promised to purchase this one for me at any price. But who is the lucky individual who accomplished the capture?”
”Ye mean who grupped the maar?”
”Yes--yes--who?”
”Why, in coorse it wur a mowstanger.”
”A mustanger?”
”Ye-es--an such a one as thur ain't another on all these purayras-- eyther to ride a hoss, or throw a laryitt over one. Yo may talk about yur Mexikins! I never seed neery Mexikin ked manage hoss-doin's like that young fellur; an thur ain't a drop o' thur pisen blood in his veins. He ur es white es I am myself.”
”His name?”
”Wal, es to the name o' his family, that I niver heern. His Christyun name air Maurice. He's knowed up thur 'bout the Fort as Maurice the mowstanger.”
The old hunter was not sufficiently observant to take note of the tone of eager interest in which the question had been asked, nor the sudden deepening of colour upon the cheeks of the questioner as she heard the answer.
Neither had escaped the observation of Florinda.
”La, Miss Looey!” exclaimed the latter, ”shoo dat de name ob de brave young white gen'l'm--he dat us save from being smodered on de brack prairee?”
”Geehosofat, yes!” resumed the hunter, relieving the young lady from the necessity of making reply. ”Now I think o't, he told me o' thet suck.u.mstance this very mornin', afore we started. He air the same.
Thet's the very fellur es hev trapped spotty; an he air toatin' the critter along at this eyedentical minnit, in k.u.mp'ny wi' about a dozen others o' the same cavyurd. He oughter be hyur afore sundown. I pushed my ole maar ahead, so 's to tell yur father the spotty war comin', and let him git the fust chance o' buyin'. I know'd as how thet ere bit o'
hosdoin's don't get druv fur into the Settlements efore someb'dy snaps her up. I thort o' _you_, Miss Lewaze, and how ye tuk on so when I tolt ye 'bout the critter. Wal, make yur mind eezy; ye sh.e.l.l hev the fast chance. Ole Zeb Stump 'll be yur bail for thet.”
”Oh, Mr Stump, it is so kind of you! I am very, very grateful. You will now excuse me for a moment. Father will soon be back. We have a dinner-party to-day; and I have to prepare for receiving a great many people. Florinda, see that Mr Stump's luncheon is set out for him.
Go, girl--go at once about it!”
”And, Mr Stump,” continued the young lady, drawing nearer to the hunter, and speaking in a more subdued tone of voice, ”if the young-- young gentleman should arrive while the other people are here--perhaps he don't know them--will you see that he is not neglected? There is wine yonder, in the verandah, and other things. You know what I mean, dear Mr Stump?”
”Durned if I do, Miss Lewaze; that air, not adzackly. I kin unnerstan'
all thet ere 'bout the licker' an other fixins. But who air the young gen'leman yur speakin' o'? Thet's the thing as bamboozles me.”
”Surely you know who I mean! The young gentleman--the young man--who, you say, is bringing in the horses.”
”Oh! ah! Maurice the mowstanger! That's it, is it? Wal, I reck'n yur not a hundred mile astray in calling _him_ a gen'leman; tho' it ain't offen es a mowstanger gits thet ent.i.tlement, or desarves it eyther. _He air one_, every inch o' him--a gen'leman by barth, breed, an raisin'-- tho' he air a hoss-hunter, an Irish at thet.”
The eyes of Louise Poindexter sparkled with delight as she listened to opinions so perfectly in unison with her own.
”I must tell ye, howsomdiver,” continued the hunter, as some doubt had come across his mind, ”it won't do to show that 'ere young fellur any sort o' second-hand hospertality. As they used to say on the Ma.s.sissippi, he air 'as proud as a Peintdexter.' Excuse me, Miss Lewaze, for lettin' the word slip. I did think o't thet I war talkin'
to a Peintdexter--not the proudest, but the puttiest o' the name.”
”Oh, Mr Stump! you can say what you please to me. You know that I could not be offended with you, you dear old giant!”
”He'd be meaner than a dwurf es ked eyther say or do anythin' to offend you, miss.”
”Thanks! thanks! I know your honest heart--I know your devotion.
Perhaps some time--some time, Mr Stump,”--she spoke hesitatingly, but apparently without any definite meaning--”I might stand in need of your friends.h.i.+p.”