THE TELLING BLOW.
When Silk Lasso Sam called out as he did, in stern, peremptory tones
to Nina de Sutro, she stopped at the door and turned toward him.
“Well, what do you wish?”
“This is all bosh about my sister making any effort to save me.”
“I am sure that it is not.”
“And I say it is.”
“She did not come here for nothing.”
“She came to see me to cheer and comfort me, and, if she saw a chance
to aid me to do so.”
“And she saw none?”
“How could she, a stranger in this fort, see what you cannot
discover?”
“She came here to save you, I am sure.”
“If possible, and, seeing that it was impossible, she has gone,
bidding me a last farewell and leaving me to my fate.”
“It is not like her.”
“It is all that she could do.”
The man was silent after this, but his thoughts were busy. He knew
that Ruth had promised to do all in her power to save him, and had
told him just what her plot was, just what to expect.
But, then, it might miscarry. No plot was really certain, and
big chances had to be taken to rescue him from the fort and all
surrounding him.
Nina de Sutro was in the fort, and her guardian was next in rank to
Colonel Dunwoody. There was no better person anywhere to attempt the
rescue, daring as it must be, than Nina de Sutro.
She had said that she would desert him, make no effort to carry out
her former plans, and thus leave him to his fate.
How would he urge Nina de Sutro to change her mind, when she had
decided against making the effort?
It was something that needed thought, and yet he had no time to think
it over. If he let her go away from him then, she would take good
care not to come again to see him.
He must find, therefore, some plan by which he could force her to
act in his behalf. What was that plan to be? He did not know, but
ventured upon an expedient, so said:
“You have an idea that if I were dead, and you my widow, that you
could marry some good man?”
“I know that I could.”
“Even Dunwoody, whom you love?”
“Perhaps yes, if he was prevented from marrying your sister through
having signed your death-warrant.”
“Yes, he might turn to you for comfort.”
“I hope so.”
“And failing in that quarter, you could, perhaps, marry Captain
Caruth?”
“I believe that I could,” said the woman, who had received such an
unlimited amount of adoration that she believed she was capable of
bringing any man to her feet, as in truth she was, with very rare
exceptions.
“And failing with him, you have Lieutenant Vassar Turpin to fall back
upon?”
“Yes, all three of them splendid fellows, men of whom any woman might
feel proud.”
“I grant that with exceeding candor, yet must say that they are too
honorable men, have too high regard for the proud records they have
won, and honor the names they have inherited, unsullied by a stain,
too much to ally their lives with one wholly unworthy of them.”
“What do you mean?” and a strange look crept over the woman’s face, a
look that was reflected from the dark, malignant countenance of the
man.
“I will tell you just what I mean, and what they shall know.”
“I beg you to do so.”
“I will, and only too soon for your ears to hear.”
“In Heaven’s name tell me!” and Nina de Sutro was beginning to feel
that her nerves might be treacherous to her.
“May I ask,” began Silk Lasso Sam with a most malignant look upon his
face, “if you have your certificate of marriage?”
“My marriage-certificate?” she gasped.
“Yes.”
“Is it necessary?”
“Of course, for all well-regulated families have one.”
“Where is mine?”
“That is what I asked you.”
“You never gave me one.”
“It was not for me to give it to you.”
“Who then should?”
“The minister who performed the service should have given it to you.”
“Why did he not, for I was young and thoughtless?”
“I will tell you why he did not do so.”
“Why?”
“Because he had no right to do so, for _he was no minister_.”
“Heaven have mercy upon me!”
“Not even Heaven will be merciful to one who cannot show her
certificate of marriage.”
“You lie, Arden, and you know that you do, for I am your wife, and I
will yet get that certificate to prove it.”
“You can never get what cannot be secured. That man was no preacher;
he was under my pay, and I paid him for his work. That is all there
is to it, and so, when I make known my story about you, as I face an
attentive and appreciative audience, standing upon the gallows as I
will, it will be my pleasure to state that Nina de Sutro has a right
to her name, as my death will not even leave her _my widow_.
“Do you see now, my beautiful Nina, just how you will stand in the
eyes of these honorable gentlemen, for I shall add that you knew the
fact from the very first--see?”
That she did _see_ was proven by the moan that escaped her lips as
she sank in a heap at the feet of the man who had dealt her such a
cruel blow.
There was nothing for the outlaw to lose, everything for him to gain.
The time was drawing near when he must die. His sister had promised
to save him, yet there might be a miscarriage of her plot. In his
despairing case it would not do to trust to one plan alone.
Nina de Sutro, disappointed at the discovery she had made regarding
the colonel’s love for Ruth, had grown reckless, almost desperate,
and was willing that all should be known, rather than save the outlaw
from death.
When, however, he told her what he would tell to dishonor her, she
feared that she was forever lost, and so sank in a swoon at his feet.
He stood gazing upon her with intense delight in his expression, the
cause of which was revealed by his muttered words:
“That will fetch her to terms.”
He had told a falsehood, for the marriage was a legal one, greatly to
the man’s regret afterward, and only his game of bluff had caused
Nina, in her fear, to forget that the man was a priest, who performed
the ceremony, and that the marriage was registered upon the books of
the parish church where it was celebrated.
Without one effort to help her, Silk Lasso Sam stood gazing upon the
form lying at his feet.
“She’ll come round soon,” he muttered.
And he was right. In a short while there was a convulsive twitching
of the muscles, then color rushed back into the face and the eyes
opened.
They beheld her surroundings, and, after an effort, she arose to her
feet. She faced him then, at first weak and tottering, but gaining
strength and nerve rapidly.
Her face had become white now with intense passion, and through her
shut teeth, she hissed forth:
“You have conquered again, Arden, and by the most accursed act that
ever a man was guilty of. I am a Mexican, and women of my race have
hot blood that is bitterly revengeful. It seems idle to threaten
a man who stands in your position, with the noose of the hangman
about his neck, but yet, I now long for you to live that I may make
you feel how Nina de Sutro can avenge an insult. Yes, I wish you to
live, it is my earnest desire that you should, and I will live with
the hope of making you suffer.”
“You will aid me to escape, then?” asked the man, impressed in spite
of himself at the words and looks of the woman.
“I will.”
“You will not disappoint me?”
“No.”
“Remember, failure means my death.”
“I understand.”
“When will you do this?”
“I do not know.”
“How?”
“I do not know.”
“Why not as you planned it before?”
“Because the officer I spoke of is on the sick-list and does not go
on duty as I supposed he would.”
“Then you must hunt up another plan.”
“Yes.”
“Have you no idea what it is?”
“Not the remotest.”
“I fear you will make a botch of it.”
“If I fail in one way I will try another, and, failing in that, I
will make another effort.”
“And failing a third time?”
“I will aid you to escape if I have to come here by night disguised
as Clarice Carr and drive my Mexican dagger to the hilt in the heart
of the sentinel at your cabin door, and then give you the uniform of
an officer to pass out of the fort in, for it can be done, but only
as a last resort. Remember, I shall save you, for I will not let my
wrecked girlhood be stained with dishonor.”
She drew her veil over her face, turned on her heel, and left the
cabin, the man feeling convinced now that he had two chances of
escape.
“If Ruth’s plot fails, that devil will surely save me, for she will
not stand the fear of my reporting what I threatened to do,” mused
the outlaw.
The woman meanwhile had passed the sentinel, walking leisurely along,
calm outwardly but with heart and brain in a whirl.
She made her way back to her quarters by the most unfrequented paths
and gained her room undetected by any one.
Once in her room she threw off the dress and hat she had worn, and
was soon in bed, determined to feign illness, for she wanted to be
alone to think. There was very little feigning necessary, for she was
really ill from the shock she had received.
At last she became more calm and was able to center her thoughts upon
her plan to rescue the outlaw chief.
Mrs. De Sutro came up to see her and was distressed to find her ill.
“It’s a sick headache. Let me have a cup of strong tea and then no
one must disturb me until morning,” she said.
Mrs. De Sutro came again at midnight before retiring, and found her
patient sleeping peacefully, for Nina de Sutro had hit upon a plan
of rescue, and then, having conned it all over, had dropped into a
refreshing slumber.