Part 35 (1/2)
”He may depend on Zeb Stump for thet, Miss Lewaze. n.o.body air a goin'
to be a bit the wiser about who sent these hyur delekissies; though, for the matter o' cakes an kickshaws, an all that sort o' thing, the mowstanger hain't had much reezun to complain. He hev been serplied wi'
enuf o' them to hev filled the bellies o' a hul school o'
shugar-babbies.”
”Ha! Supplied already! By whom?”
”Wal, thet theer this chile can't inform ye, Miss Lewaze; not be-knowin'
it hisself. I on'y hyurd they wur fetched to the tavern in baskets, by some sort o' a sarving-man as air a Mexikin. I've seed the man myself.
Fact, I've jest this minnit met him, ridin' arter a wuman sot stridy legs in her seddle, as most o' these Mexikin weemen ride. I reck'n he be her sarvingt, as he war keepin' a good ways ahint, and toatin' a basket jest like one o' them Maurice hed got arready. Like enuf it air another lot o' Rickshaws they wur takin' to the tavern.”
There was no need to trouble Zeb Stump with further cross-questioning.
A whole history was supplied by that single speech. The case was painfully clear. In the regard of Maurice Gerald, Louise Poindexter had a rival--perhaps something more. The lady of the lazo was either his _fiancee_, or his mistress!
It was not by accident--though to Zeb Stump it may have seemed so--that the hamper, steadied for a time, upon the coping of the bal.u.s.trade, and still retained in the hand of the young Creole, escaped from her clutch, and fell with a crash upon the stones below. The bottles were broken, and their contents spilled into the stream that surged along the bas.e.m.e.nt of the wall.
The action of the arm that produced this effect, apparently springing from a spasmodic and involuntary effort, was nevertheless due to design; and Louise Poindexter, as she leant over the parapet, and contemplated the ruin she had caused, felt as if her heart was shattered like the gla.s.s that lay glistening below!
”How unfortunate!” said she, making a feint to conceal her chagrin.
”The dainties are destroyed, I declare! What will Florinda say? After all, if Mr Gerald be so well attended to, as you say he is, he'll not stand in need of them. I'm glad to hear he hasn't been neglected--one who has done me a service. But, Mr Stump, you needn't say anything of this, or that I inquired after him. You know his late antagonist is our near relative; and it might cause scandal in the settlement. Dear Zeb, you promise me?”
”Swa-ar it ef ye like. Neery word, Miss Lewaze, neery word; ye kin depend on ole Zeb.”
”I know it. Come! The sun is growing hot up here. Let as go down, and see whether we can find you such a thing as a gla.s.s of your favourite Monongahela. Come!”
With an a.s.sumed air of cheerfulness, the young Creole glided across the azotea; and, trilling the ”New Orleans Waltz,” once more commenced descending the _escalera_.
In eager acceptance of the invitation, the old hunter followed close upon her skirts; and although, by habit, stoically indifferent to feminine charms--and with his thoughts at that moment chiefly bent upon the promised Monongahela--he could not help admiring those ivory shoulders brought so conspicuously under his eyes.
But for a short while was he permitted to indulge in the luxurious spectacle. On reaching the bottom of the stair his fair hostess bade him a somewhat abrupt adieu. After the revelations he had so unwittingly made, his conversation seemed no longer agreeable; and she, late desirous of interrogating, was now contented to leave him alone with the Monongahela, as she hastened to hide her chagrin in the solitude of her chamber.
For the first time in her life Louise Poindexter felt the pangs of jealousy. It was her first real love: for she was in love with Maurice Gerald.
A solicitude like that shown for him by the Mexican senora, could scarce spring from simple friends.h.i.+p? Some closer tie must have been established between them? So ran the reflections of the now suffering Creole.
From what Maurice had said--from what she had herself seen--the lady of the lazo was just such a woman as should win the affections of such a man. Hers were accomplishments he might naturally be expected to admire.
Her figure had appeared perfect under the magnifying effect of the lens.
The face had not been so fairly viewed, and was still undetermined.
Was it in correspondence with the form? Was it such as to secure the love of a man so much master of his pa.s.sions, as the mustanger appeared to be?
The mistress of Casa del Corvo could not rest, till she had satisfied herself on this score. As soon as Zeb Stump had taken his departure, she ordered the spotted mare to be saddled; and, riding out alone, she sought the crossing of the river; and thence proceeded to the highway on the opposite side.
Advancing in the direction of the Fort, as she expected, she soon encountered the Mexican senora on her return; no _senora_ according to the exact signification of the term, but a _senorita_--a young lady, not older than herself.
At the place of their meeting, the road ran under the shadow of the trees. There was no sun to require the coifing of the rebozo upon the crown of the Mexican equestrian. The scarf had fallen upon her shoulders, laying bare a head of hair, in luxuriance rivalling the tail of a wild steed, in colour the plumage of a crow. It formed the framing of a face, that, despite a certain darkness of complexion, was charmingly attractive.