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The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life. Gustave Aimard
Читать онлайн.Название The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life
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Автор произведения Gustave Aimard
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
"All right, I do not care. I will hunt in whatever way you please."
"I reckon on it; but come, we have lost too much time already."
They proceeded toward the mound. The adventurer entered the vault, and the young man went up to the rancho. Loïck and the two women were awaiting him on the platform considerably perplexed by the long conversation he had held with Oliver; but Dominique was impenetrable – he had lived too long in the desert to let the truth be drawn from his heart when he thought proper to conceal it. Under these circumstances, all the questions they showered on him were thrown away; he only answered by clever evasions, and at last his father and the two women, despairing of making him speak, resolved to leave him at peace. His breakfast was all ready on the table. As he was hungry, he took advantage of this pretext to change the conversation, and while eating, announced his departure. Loïck made no remark, for he was accustomed to these sudden absences.
At the end of about half an hour Oliver reappeared. Dominique rose and took leave of his family.
"You are taking him with you," said Loïck.
"Yes," Oliver replied, "for a few days; we are going into the Tierra Caliente."
"Take care," said Louise anxiously; "you know that Juárez' guerillas are scouring the country."
"Fear nothing, little sister," the young man said as he embraced her; "we shall be prudent. I will bring you back a handkerchief. You know that I have promised you one for a long time."
"I should prefer your not leaving us, Dominique," she replied sadly.
"Come, come," the adventurer remarked gaily; "do not be alarmed, I will bring him back safe and sound."
It appears that the occupants of the rancho had great confidence in Oliver's word, for on this assurance their anxiety became calmed, and they took leave of the two men in tolerably good spirits. The latter then left the rancho, descended the mound, and found their horses, ready to be mounted, awaiting them, tied up to a liquidambar tree. After giving a last parting signal to the inhabitants of the rancho, who were assembled on the platform, they leapt into their saddles, and went off at a gallop across country to strike the Veracruz road.
"Are we really going to the hot lands?" Dominique asked, while galloping by his comrade's side.
"We are not going so far, or nearly so; I am only taking you a few miles off to a hacienda, where I want you to make a new acquaintance."
"Bah! Why so? I care very little for new acquaintances."
"This one will be very useful to you."
"Oh, in that case it is different. I confess to you that I am not very fond of the Mexicans."
"The person to whom you will be introduced is not Mexican, but French."
"That is not at all the same thing; but why do you talk in that mysterious way? Are you not going to introduce me?"
"No, it is another person whom you know, and for whom you feel some liking."
"To whom are you alluding?"
"To Leo Carral."
"The majordomo of the hacienda del Arenal?"
"Himself!"
"In that case we are going to the hacienda?"
"Not exactly, but near it. I have given the majordomo a rendezvous, where he will wait for me, and we are going there now."
"In that case all is for the best. I shall be delighted to see Leo Carral again. He is a good fellow."
"And a man of honour and trust," Oliver added.
CHAPTER X
THE MEETING
Ever since Count de la Saulay's arrival at the hacienda del Arenal, Doña Dolores had treated him with a degree of reserve which the marriage projects made by the two families were far from justifying. The young lady had not only had no private interviews with the man whom she ought to consider to some extent her betrothed, but had not indulged in the slightest intimacy, or most innocent familiarity; while remaining polite, and even gracious, she had contrived, ever since the first day they met, to raise a barrier between herself and the Count – a barrier which he had never attempted to scale, and which had condemned him to remain, perhaps against his secret wishes, within the limits of the strictest reserve.
In these conditions, and especially after the scene at which he had been present on the previous evening, we can easily understand what the stupefaction of the young man must be on learning that Doña Dolores requested an interview with him. What could she have to say to him? For what motive did she grant him this meeting? What reason impelled her to act thus? Such were the questions which the Count did not cease to ask himself – questions which necessarily remained unanswered. Hence the young man's anxiety, curiosity, and impatience, were aroused to the highest degree, and it was with a feeling of joy, which he could not fully explain, that he at length heard the hour for the interview strike. Had he been in Paris instead of a Mexican hacienda, he would have certainly known beforehand what he had to expect from the message he had received, and his conduct would have been regulated beforehand.
But here the coldness of Doña Dolores toward him – a coldness which had never once thawed – the preference which after the last night's scene she seemed to give to another person, all combined to deprive this interview of the slightest supposition of love. Was it his renunciation of her hand, and immediate retirement, that Doña Dolores was about to request of him?
Singular contradiction of the human mind! The Count, who felt for this marriage a repulsion more and more marked, whose formal intention it was to have, as soon as possible, an explanation on this subject with Don Andrés de la Cruz, and whose firm resolution it was to withdraw, and renounce the alliance so long prepared, and which displeased him the more because it was forced on him – revolted at the supposition of this renunciation, which, without doubt, Doña Dolores was going to ask him; his wounded self-esteem made him regard this question under a perfectly new light, and the contempt which the young lady seemed to feel for his hand, filled him with shame and anger.
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