Part 13 (1/2)
”No one shall, through me.”
”That I feel certain of, Senor Lantanas. Don Tomas is your endorser; and would be willing to be your bondsman, were it needed--which it is not.”
Again the _Condor's_ captain bows in acknowledgment of the confidence reposed in him; and after some further exchange of speech, respecting the s.h.i.+pment of the treasure, and the writing out an advertis.e.m.e.nt, which Don Gregorio is to _get_ inserted in the _Diario_, the latter returns to his boat, and is rowed back to the sh.o.r.e; while the Chilian lights a fresh cigarette, and with elbows rested on the capstan-head, resumes his customary att.i.tude of _insouciance_, from which he had been temporarily roused.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
IN SEARCH OF A SECOND.
Just about the time Don Gregorio is taking leave of Captain Lantanas, the two unwelcome, as unreceived, visitors are turning their backs upon his house.
De Lara feels his discomfiture the keenest. His heart is harrowed with mingled emotions--pa.s.sions of varied complexion, all evil. His lips are livid with rage, his brow black with chagrin, while his eyes fairly scintillate with unsatisfied vengeance.
While returning along the avenue he neither looks back, nor up. Not a syllable escapes him; with glance upon the ground, he rides in sullen silence.
After clearing the entrance-gate, and again upon the outside road, he turns face toward the dwelling whose hospitality has been so insultingly denied him. He sees nought there to soothe, but something which still further afflicts him. Four horses are filing out through the front gate, conducted by grooms. They are saddled, bridled, ready for being mounted. To his practised eye, their caparison tells that they are intended only for a short excursion, not a journey. And though their saddles are in shape nearly alike, he knows that two of them are to be mounted by men, the other two to carry ladies.
”The senoritas are going out for a ride--a _paseo de campo_--accompanied by their English guests,” observes Calderon.
Simultaneously, as instinctively, de Lara arrives at this conclusion.
Both now know why they were not received; a knowledge which, instead of tranquillising their chafed spirits, but maddens them the more. The thought of their sweethearts being escorted by these detested rivals, riding along wild unfrequented paths, through trees overshadowing, away from the presence of spying domestics, or the interference of protecting relatives, beyond the eyes and ears of every one--the thought that Carmen Montijo and Inez Alvarez are setting out on an excursion of this kind, is to Francisco de Lara and Faustino Calderon bitter as deadliest poison.
And reflection embitters it the more. The excursionists will have every opportunity of wandering at will. They will become separated; and there can be no doubt as to how the part.i.tion will be made; the older of the two officers will pair off with Dona Carmen, the younger with Dona Inez.
Thus, they will ride unmolested, un.o.bserved; converse without fear of being overheard; clasp hands without danger of being seen--perhaps exchange kisses! Oh, the dire, desperate jealousy! Even the dull brain and cold heart of Calderon are fired by these reflections. They sting him to the quick. But not as De Lara; for not as De Lara does he love.
After gazing for a while at the house--at the horses and grooms--at the preparations that are being made for mounting--noting their magnificent style--with a last glance such as Satan gave when expelled from Paradise, the Creole drives the spur deep into his horse's ribs, and dashes off down the hill the Californian after.
At its bottom they again come to a halt, being now out of sight of the house. Facing toward his companion, De Lara says:
”We're in for a fight, Faustino; both of us.”
”Not both. I don't think I'm called upon to challenge that youngster.
He's but a boy.”
”He's been man enough to insult you; and, if I mistake not, you'll find him man enough to meet you.”
”I don't see that he _did_ insult me.”
”Indeed; you don't? Sticking your horse, as if it were a pig, and sending him off in a stampede that well nigh dismounted you; all before the face of your lady-love--right under her eyes! You don't deem that an insult, eh?”
”But you must remember I gave him provocation. At your bidding, I all but rode over him. Looking at it in that light, he's in a sense excusable for what he did. Besides, he only meant it as a joke. Didn't you see, when it was all over, how he laughed at it?”
”Not at _it_, but at _you_. So did your sweetheart, _amigo_. As we reined up under the walls, I could see her long lashes drooping down, the eyes looking disdain at you, with her pretty lips pouting in very scorn. You're evidently out of her good graces, and you'll have to do something ere you can reinstate yourself.”
”Do you really think so?”
”I am sure of it. Never surer of anything in my life.”