"Now, madame, you may know how disinterested it was of me to offer you
marriage: nay, more, I never loved you; if I told you so, it was a
lie--"
He never lied in his life as he was doing at that moment. His face
bespoke the falsehood of his words. It was the utterance of purest
spleen. I read in his look the unmistakable expression of jealousy.
Coarse as the passion may have been, he loved her--oh! how could it have
been otherwise?
"Love you, indeed! Ha, ha, ha! love you--the daughter of a poor
Indian--a _margarita_!"
The climax had come. The heaving bosom could bear silence no longer;
the insult was unendurable.
"Base wretch!" cried she, in a voice of compressed agony, "stand aside
from my path!"
"Not yet," answered Ijurra, grasping the bridle more firmly. "I have
something further to communicate--"
"Villain! release the rein!"
"Before I do, you shall promise--you shall swear--"
"Again! let go! or this bullet to your heart!"
I had sprung from out the thicket, and was running forward to her
rescue. I saw her right hand raised on high, and something shining in
its grasp. It was a pistol. Its muzzle was pointed at Ijurra.
No doubt the resolute character of her who held it was well known to
him, for the threat produced an immediate effect; the coward relaxed his
hold, the reins dropped from his fingers, and with a mingled look of
hatred and fear, he stepped back a pace.
The moment the bridle became free, the steed, already startled by the
spur, bounded forward; and after half-a-dozen springs, both horse and
rider disappeared behind the screen of the palmettoes.
I was too late to play the knight-errant. The "ladye faire" had not
needed my help; she neither saw nor heard me; and by the time I arrived
upon the ground, she had passed out of sight, and Ijurra was alone.