Where went Cassius Calhoun?
Certainly not to his own sleeping-room. There was no sleep for a spirit
suffering like his.
He went not there; but to the chamber of his cousin. Not hers--now
untenanted, with its couch unoccupied, its coverlet undisturbed--but to
that of her brother, young Henry Poindexter.
He went direct as crooked corridors would permit him--in haste, without
waiting to avail himself of the assistance of a candle.
It was not needed. The moonbeams penetrating through the open bars of
the _reja_, filled the chamber with light--sufficient for his purpose.
They disclosed the outlines of the apartment, with its simple
furniture--a washstand, a dressing-table, a couple of chairs, and a bed
with "mosquito curtains."
Under those last was the youth reclining; in that sweet silent slumber
experienced only by the innocent. His finely formed head rested calmly
upon the pillow, over which lay scattered a profusion of shining curls.
As Calhoun lifted the muslin "bar," the moonbeams fell upon his face,
displaying its outlines of the manliest aristocratic type.
What a contrast between those two sets of features, brought into such
close proximity! Both physically handsome; but morally, as Hyperion to
the Satyr.
"Awake, Harry! awake!" was the abrupt salutation extended to the
sleeper, accompanied by a violent shaking of his shoulder.
"Oh! ah! you, cousin Cash? What is it? not the Indiana, I hope?"
"Worse than that--worse! worse! Quick! Rouse yourself, and see!
Quick, or it will be too late! Quick, and be the witness of your own
disgrace--the dishonour of your house. Quick, or the name of Poindexter
will be the laughing-stock of Texas!"
After such summons there could be no inclination for sleep--at least on
the part of a Poindexter; and at a single bound, the youngest
representative of the family cleared the mosquito curtains, and stood
upon his feet in the middle of the floor--in an attitude of speechless
astonishment.
"Don't wait to dress," cried his excited counsellor, "stay, you may put
on your pants. Damn the clothes! There's no time for standing upon
trifles. Quick! Quick!"
The simple costume the young planter was accustomed to wear, consisting
of trousers and Creole blouse of Attakapas _cottonade_, were adjusted to
his person in less than twenty seconds of time; and in twenty more,
obedient to the command of his cousin--without understanding why he had
been so unceremoniously summoned forth--he was hurrying along the
gravelled walks of the garden.
"What is it, Cash?" he inquired, as soon as the latter showed signs of
coming to a stop. "What does it all mean?"
"See for yourself! Stand close to me! Look through yonder opening in
the trees that leads down to the place where your skiff is kept. Do you
see anything there?"
"Something white. It looks like a woman's dress. It is that. It's a
woman!"
"It _is_ a woman. Who do you suppose she is?"
"I can't tell. Who do you say she is?"
"There's another figure--a dark one--by her side."
"It appears to be a man? It is a man!"
"And who do you suppose _he_ is?"
"How should I know, cousin Cash? Do you?"
"I do. That man is Maurice the mustanger!"
"And the woman?"
"_Is Louise--your sister--in his arms_!"
As if a shot had struck him through the heart, the brother bounded
upward, and then onward, along the path.
"Stay!" said Calhoun, catching hold of, and restraining him. "You
forget that you are unarmed! The fellow, I know, has weapons upon him.
Take this, and this," continued he, passing his own knife and pistol
into the hands of his cousin. "I should have used them myself, long ere
this; but I thought it better that you--her brother--should be the
avenger of your sister's wrongs. On, my boy! See that you don't hurt
_her_; but take care not to lose the chance at him. Don't give him a
word of warning. As soon as they are separated, send a bullet into his
belly; and if all six should fail, go at him with the knife. I'll stay
near, and take care of you, if you should get into danger. Now! Steal
upon him, and give the scoundrel hell!"
It needed not this blasphemous injunction to inspire Henry Poindexter to
hasty action. The brother of a sister--a beautiful sister--erring,
undone!
In six seconds he was by her side, confronting her supposed seducer.
"Low villain!" he cried, "unclasp your loathsome arm from the waist of
my sister. Louise! stand aside, and give me a chance of killing him!
Aside, sister! Aside, I say!"
Had the command been obeyed, it is probable that Maurice Gerald would at
that moment have ceased to exist--unless he had found heart to kill
Henry Poindexter; which, experienced as he was in the use of his
six-shooter, and prompt in its manipulation, he might have done.
Instead of drawing the pistol from its holster, or taking any steps for
defence, he appeared only desirous of disengaging himself from the fair
arms still clinging around him, and for whose owner he alone felt alarm.
For Henry to fire at the supposed betrayer, was to risk taking his
sister's life; and, restrained by the fear of this, he paused before
pulling trigger.
That pause produced a crisis favourable to the safety of all three. The
Creole girl, with a quick perception of the circumstances, suddenly
released her lover from the protecting embrace; and, almost in the same
instant, threw her arms around those of her brother. She knew there was
nothing to be apprehended from the pistol of Maurice. Henry alone had
to be held doing mischief.
"Go, go!" she shouted to the former, while struggling to restrain the
infuriated youth. "My brother is deceived by appearances. Leave me to
explain. Away, Maurice! away!"
"Henry Poindexter," said the young Irishman, as he turned to obey the
friendly command, "I am not the sort of villain you have been pleased to
pronounce me. Give me but time, and I shall prove, that your sister has
formed a truer estimate of my character than either her father, brother,
or cousin. I claim but six months. If at the end of that time I do not
show myself worthy of her confidence--her love--then shall I make you
welcome to shoot me at sight, as you would the cowardly coyote, that
chanced to cross your track. Till then, I bid you adieu."
Henry's struggle to escape from his sister's arms--perhaps stronger than
his own--grew less energetic as he listened to these words. They became
feebler and feebler--at length ceasing--when a plunge in the river
announced that the midnight intruder into the enclosed grounds of Casa
del Corvo was on his way back to the wild prairies he had chosen for his
home.
It was the first time he had recrossed the river in that primitive
fashion. On the two previous occasions he had passed over in the skiff;
which had been drawn back to its moorings by a delicate hand, the
tow-rope consisting of that tiny lazo that had formed part of the
caparison presented along with the spotted mustang.
"Brother! you are wronging him! indeed you are wronging him!" were the
words of expostulation that followed close upon his departure. "Oh,
Henry--dearest Hal, if you but knew how noble he is! So far from
desiring to do me an injury, 'tis only this moment he has been
disclosing a plan to--to--prevent--scandal--I mean to make me happy.
Believe me, brother, he is a gentleman; and if he were not--if only the
common man you take him for--I could not help what I have done--I could
not, for _I love him_!"
"Louise! tell me the truth! Speak to me, not as to your brother, but as
to your own self. From what I have this night seen, more than from your
own words, I know that you love this man. Has he taken advantage of
your--your--unfortunate passion?"
"No--no--no. As I live he has not. He is too noble for that--even had
I--Henry! he is innocent! If there be cause for regret, I alone am to
blame. Why--oh! brother! why did you insult him?"
"Have I done so?"
"You have, Henry--rudely, grossly."
"I shall go after, and apologise. If you speak truly, sister, I owe him
that much. I shall go this instant. I liked him from the first--you
know I did? I could not believe him capable of a cowardly act. I can't
now. Sister! come back into the house with me. And now, dearest Loo!
you had better go to bed. As for me, I shall be off _instanter_ to the
hotel, where I may still hope to overtake him. I cannot rest till I
have made reparation for my rudeness."
So spoke the forgiving brother; and gently leading his sister by the
hand, with thoughts of compassion, but not the slightest trace of anger,
he hastily returned to the hacienda--intending to go after the young
Irishman, and apologise for the use of words that, under the
circumstances, might have been deemed excusable.
As the two disappeared within the doorway, a third figure, hitherto
crouching among the shrubbery, was seen to rise erect, and follow them
up the stone steps. This last was their cousin, Cassius Calhoun.
He, too, had thoughts of _going after_ the mustanger.