CHAPTER XII.

UNDER THE MASK.

When Corkey Joe had almost come up beside Drudge, the latter exchanged

a knowing glance with him, and, drawing a sheet of tarpaulin aside from

the doorway in the rocks, glided like a serpent within. As the canvas

fell behind him, the bandit captain's representative calmly took the

sentinel's place.

Drudge entered a kind of passage between rocks, covered over with tree

stuff and mud, with the snow heaped on that again to hermetically

roof it in. Thus to a second doorway of a cave, he found a hanging of

buffalo robes fastened on a cottonwood rod.

He hemmed and hawed a couple of times to give a polite notification of

his approach, and after making sure he was alone, stepped within the

fur _portière._

Prairie travellers are like the Turks in carrying with them such

furniture as may transform a cave or a hut into a nest of luxury.

Captain Kidd had, therefore, had a delightful snuggery made of the

dugout, lined with rugs, blankets and furs, so that cold, damp, and

wind were excluded. In the centre of this lair, too, a large silver

chafing dish, which might have been stolen from some Central American

church treasury, contained clear pine knots, which diffused rather an

agreeable and, certainly, a wholesome odour. The low seats were all

folding, to be transported readily, but were heaped with furs. A couch

of the same valuable material was occupied by a sleeping girl: it was

poor Miss Maclan, making up with a prolonged rest for her exhaustion.

In a hammock of grass cloth, hung low, another girl, younger and

slighter, with a truly American complexion and contour, gently was

swinging. She was well within her teens; a sweet and lofty type of

beauty such as Raphael and Murillo painted in their most inspired

moments. Her large black eyes seemed to reflect thoughts oftener of

heaven than of earth; her transparent skin, fine as satin, showed the

blue network of the delicate veins, and offered a violent contrast

to black hair in thick and long tresses. Her irresistible charm was

heightened by the permanent sadness which covered her lineaments and

compelled pity. She smiled faintly on beholding Drudge, and bade him

welcome in a tuneful voice as she gave him her little hand.

"But I ought to scold you, friend," she said, "for coming too often. If

that hateful man, whose very slave I am, should catch you here, where

you could find no excuse to be, ill would befall you."

"That's so, señorita," the youth replied, lightly enough, "but you

need not be alarmed about me this time. My only danger is that you

will think me intrusive. Captain Kidd has left the camp, and the depth

of the snow makes going so slow, that I should not wonder if he made

a long stay of it. They have been having another jangle, all in my

hearing, for," he went on, with a bitter smile, "they reckon me as an

idiot, and go on as if nobody were by."

"Poor Leon!" she sighed, kindly.

"Don't be sorry about that, señorita," he hastened to proceed, "for

that's my safeguard. Otherwise I could not watch over you as over a

sister. The hour is nigh for me to prove my devotion, methinks."

"I very well know that I can count on Leon with entire trust. Is not

our cause, our hope, the same? Misfortune unites us. But I must own

that, knowing your implacable hatred for this wretch who holds us

in his power, I am often afraid that you will burst out into some

imprudence that will destroy you and leave me without a friend in the

world. Unless," she added, with a glance at the sleeper, whom their

subdued tones did not affect, "this is a new friend whom heaven has

accorded me in my distress."

"Rather a spy whom the odious captain thinks to plant in your

confidence," returned Leon, with jealousy and doubt. "Coming from the

captain, I would not take an angel as a being of light."

"You are wrong there. We have not exchanged many words, Leon, but

already we are sisters. Think! She has lost a father lately, and has

been hunted by Indians! Poor girl! Her fate is at least as dreadful as

mine, and her heart wounds still bleeding. We can trust her, though I

have not told her all."

"Tell her nothing superfluous," he cried. "The slave must be cunning

and prudent, or he will never have the chance to obtain his freedom.

Many a time, though, I have let go the chance to obtain it alone."

"You were right! For what would have become of a boy like you in these

deserts in a storm such as shook the earth last night? You would be a

mite!"

Leon the Drudge smiled disdainfully, and his pale face was set in an

expression of energetic will.

"That is not the fear that held me, señorita," he replied. "I am young,

but Indian boys go on the warpath at my age. I have broken in horses

that great men about this camp have shrank from backing, and can back a

mule or fire a shot to the centre with any of them. But for my double

oath, I should have been alone--yes, but free on the prairie, long

before this!"

"Explain! For you speak beyond my comprehension."

"Señorita, I made a vow to be revenged on this horde of villainous men,

and not to fly save with you. You have not been spared so long but for

some fiendish end which a man of honour is bound to loathe beforehand

and baffle when discovered. That is why I remain, and why, however

tempting the opportunities to slip away, I shall remain until it is

possible for you to follow me."

"Alas! I am too closely guarded for that. A princess could not be more

narrowly watched if she were affianced to the grandest king on earth

and by her hand her father would be saved from ruin."

"Maybe you are more free than you imagine, señorita."

"Now, pray do not fill me with any baseless hopes. And talk less loud,

lest you awake that poor slumberer. Alas! I weep, it being only a

girl--a child who is incapable of doing anything but wail and pray for

deliverance."

"Your defenders, if not deliverers, are at hand."

"At hand? I see no one but you, poor boy, and this sorrowing woman, who

can only pray with me."

"I talk of men--men determined, able, and daring--one of whom you have

seen."

"The man they call the Wolverine!" she ejaculated, hiding her eyes like

a child to whom Bogey was promised to appear, "A man that terrifies me!

He is the second self of this horrid Captain Kidd. His name pourtrays

him, and his sight fills me with dread."

Drudge smiled softly.

"What has his name and his appearance got to do with it?" he cried.

"Both may be put on! The gem and gold are not at all prepossessing

when natural. How does the domestic dog escape being devoured by

the prairie wolves when abandoned at a camp? He joins them, frisks

with them, and howls more loudly than they! If Corkey Joe resembled

a missionary, he would stand pretty conspicuous out from our gang of

Border Terrors. It is by putting on their style that he has hoodwinked

them."

"Oh, if I could be sure that you are not cheated, and that this fright

of a man is truly what you say!"

"I say so straight. The Carcajieu may or may not be a beauty, but his

look is only skin-deep anyhow. I'll answer for his faithfulness with my

own head. I know what he is worth."

"Then, tell me--"

"No, I cannot, señorita," he interrupted sharply. "I promised to keep

the secret. No more, beyond his being your most devoted."

"Now, Leon, do not fill me up with a belief of which the removal would

be heartbreaking!"

"No fear of that, señorita!"

"Very well; spite of the repulsion he causes, I will be polite to him,

kind--I will even speak to him--"

"Why not at once?"

"Oh, not at once!"

"I say that is best, for it's a first-rate chance, the captain and the

chiefs being out of the camp, and Joe the ruling spirit. Do you consent

to receive him?"

"But I would rather--that is, a little preparation. Let me consult with

this young lady."

"It is not her secret! Do you waver? Do you recoil?"

"No!" she cried, at the taunt, with a decisive tone, which startled and

thrilled him; "Let him come! Go, bring him, Leon!"

"He waits yonder, as the sentry in my stead."

"Let him come, and heaven grant that you are not deceived!"

As Drudge departed the young girl leaned breathlessly forward with an

anxious gaze for the person who replaced him in the doorway.

Behind Corkey Joe the screen fell, forming a dark background to set

his figure off. The right-hand man of the gold seekers' leader had

not modified his aspect or apparel, and yet there was a change which

elicited an exclamation of surprise from the girl. His step was firm,

his usually stern and spiteful face beaming with pity and frankness.

The features that had originated invincible repulsion were still

there, but, with the morose and mocking expression, had vanished all

foundation for distrust and dread. He stepped forward and saluted her

respectfully.

She glanced towards the sleeper.

"Let her repose," he observed, with even more sympathy in his eyes of

cold steel blue; "she will need her strength restored for what we all

may have to pass through."

"No doubt," she sighed. Fixing a clear gaze on the man, she smiled

faintly, and promptly held out her hand, saying, "Heaven bless you,

unsuspected friend, for being alone in this host of heartless men, to

take some interest in a poor orphan!"

"Señorita," answered Joe, in Spanish-American, which tongue she had

used, "I have only joined this bad set at the peril of my life, in

pursuance of my duty, incidental to which comes in the rescue of you."

"Leon told me so."

"Then he spoke the truth."

The brief silence was broken by the prisoner.

"I am almost sorry, though, that you have ventured to speak to me,"

she said; "the captain is so jealous a tyrant, that anything makes me

tremble. Still, your voice inspires a confidence of which I was very

much in want, and, notwithstanding your not engaging appearance--" for

the sunshine seemed to have left Lieutenant Joe's countenance again, so

that he glowered unpleasantly as ever--"something within tells me that

your heart is too good to deceive me, and that you really intend to do

me a good service."

"The little bird in your bosom sings the truth, señorita. If needs

must, I shall lay down my life to save yours--though that's no more

than an American is brought up to do for the fair sex. As for my looks,

those artist fellows don't come out here to paint tailor's models and

opera lobby heroes. Besides, if you ever saw a church procession in

Mexico, you may remember the Devil that the monks flog and the boys

pluck by the tail. He's no pattern of manly beauty; but, very often, he

is the widow's son and the best young man of the town, come to shuck

off his mask and shear off the claws. 'Shouldn't wonder," he went on,

smiling, "but that, without paint and powder, your bridegroom would be

pretty jealous if he had me for best man and I drew the bridesmaids'

eyes to my corner. At present, my ugly mug, and my talk, and my warpath

gait are too useful to be laid on the shelf. I thank you sincerely,

young lady, for the confidence you are kind enough to put there, in my

hand, and it will not be a parrot's age before I shall try to justify

it."

"I believe you, señor, and I, too, shall be glad to have the time come."

"And now, moments being counted, to business! We may never get such a

chance again."

The Red River Half-Breed: A Tale of the Wild North-West · 第 12 / 31 章