Juan must have fallen asleep. As he lay stretched upon the bench, he was
awakened suddenly by the sound of vehement, passionate words.
Peering cautiously through the bushes, he beheld Chiquita and Don Felipe
standing facing one another in the same spot where the three women had
been but a short time before. He was not near enough to overhear the
conversation, but judging from the vehemence of their gestures and
high-pitched voices, he rightly conjectured that their meeting was
anything but an amicable one.
On seeing Chiquita with Blanch and Bessie, Don Felipe had discreetly
refrained from joining them as he had promised; he would make his
apologies to them in the evening. The opportunity for which he had been
waiting since his return had come--he must see Chiquita alone. So he
withdrew to a far corner of the garden, where he could observe the women
without being seen, and when Blanch and Bessie returned to the house, he
intercepted her. Although she had hourly expected to meet him ever since
she had been apprised of his return, his appearance was so sudden she
was taken unawares. She had reseated herself after Blanch and Bessie
left and sat leaning with one elbow on the table and her head resting in
her hand, lost in thought. She did not hear his approach from behind,
but at the first sound of his voice she started to her feet, turning
like a flash and facing him. Her movement was so sudden and unexpected
that he too was taken aback.
"You evidently did not expect to see me this afternoon," he began with
some hesitancy.
"I did not," she replied coldly. "I should have thought," she continued,
looking him full in the eyes, "that the manhood in you would have
forever prevented your return." Felipe winced under her words. A dark
flush of anger suffused his face, and his lips quivered in an effort to
frame the hot words he was about to utter in reply, but he checked
himself.
"One is sometimes forced to follow the bidding of an instinct or desire
even against one's will," he said, controlling himself with difficulty.
She drew her glove on her right hand without replying and took a step in
the direction of the _patio_, as though to depart.
"Chiquita!" he exclaimed, stepping quickly in front of her and barring
her way, "I have tried my best to remain away, but in spite of myself,
I've been drawn irresistibly back to you--I could not help it. Besides,"
he added, "you must realize what it costs me."
"Better had you spared yourself the humiliation, Don Felipe," she
answered.
"Listen, Chiquita, to what I have to say!"
"Spare yourself the pain, Don Felipe Ramirez. Nothing you can say can
alter my attitude toward you," she interrupted.
"You must hear what I have to say!" he cried passionately, without
heeding her impatience. "Ever since we parted, I have done nothing but
travel, travel, over the face of the earth, in the vain hope of
forgetting you. And if, during that time, I have committed excesses, it
was the love of you that drove me to it in order that I might efface you
from my memory forever. But, as you see, I cannot do it, and--I have
come back again." It was easy to read the agony in his heart, divine the
suffering which his humiliation caused him, and yet his words did not
move her; not an atom of pity did they arouse within her, knowing as she
did the arrogant, selfish being that he was.
"Chiquita, I love you still!" he burst forth.
"How dare you speak of love to me?" she cried. "Have you forgotten
Pepita Delaguerra, whom you ruined, for whose death you are responsible?
You laughed and went on your way; she was only a flower to be broken and
tossed aside. Well, I've not forgotten the day on which I found her
alone and deserted, nor the hour of her death."
"Chiquita," he interrupted, "if suffering can atone for that misdeed--"
"Ah! not so fast, Don Felipe Ramirez," she answered, cutting him short.
"Let us understand one another once and for all! She forgave you with
her dying breath, but as I knelt over her dead body, I vowed that if
ever you crossed my path and made advances to me that, as sure as
there's a God in heaven, I would encourage you, lead you on until you
were mad, and then fling you from me like the dog that you are in order
that you, too, might learn what it is to live without the one you
love!"
Had she spat in his face, she could not have aroused the tiger in him
more effectually.
"Chiquita!" he cried, gasping, his face livid with rage, "you're a
devil!"
"No, I'm only a woman who had the courage to avenge another woman's
wrong," she answered quietly. "Don't imagine that a wrong committed can
ever be atoned for. It may be condoned by the world, or even forgiven by
the one who was wronged, but that is all; the deed stands forever
written against one." She watched him as he paced back and forth with
clenched hands and teeth, his face ashen, his lips quivering, his whole
being convulsed with emotion and remorse. For some minutes he was quite
unable to speak, the longing to scream and seize her by the throat and
throttle her was so overpowering.
"I understand," he said at length, in the calmest tone he could command,
"you love Captain Forest; you think to marry him."
"That's no concern of yours!" she retorted, hotly.
"Listen, Chiquita," he said, fiercely. "The cold blood that flows in his
veins can never satisfy the warm passion of the South--a woman of your
nature. I am richer than he is; I can strew your path with gold. I will
make amends for the past; I was young, then. My one desire in life will
be to fulfill your slightest wish, to live for your happiness only. Any
sacrifice you name, I will make. I will make over my entire fortune to
you if you will consent to our marriage."
"It makes me sick to hear you talk of love and marriage," she answered.
"Your idea of love is solely that of possession. What sort of love
could one like you give me in comparison to his?"
"Ah! you do love him! But you will never marry him," he retorted
furiously. "If I do not possess you, no one else shall!"
"Ah! you will kill me, perhaps?" she said, divining his thought. "Well,
then, be it so! What greater felicity could there be for me than to die
in the knowledge that he loves me--perhaps in his arms?" She drew back a
pace and placing both hands on her breast, said: "Strike, Don Felipe,
when and where the moment pleases you best!"
"Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed. "How could you take me to be so simple, so
foolish? Oh, no, Señorita, not until the hour that you have exchanged
vows and, intoxicated by love's first kiss, he presses you to his heart,
then--then, Señorita, will I lay him dead at your feet in order that you
also may realize what it is to live without the one you love," he said
with a sneer, a faint smile wreathing his cruel lips as he watched the
effect his words had upon her. There was a malicious gleam of exultation
in his eyes as he saw her draw herself together suddenly and shudder as
though struck by a knife.
"What say you to that, Señorita?" and he laughed in her face.
"What, dead at my feet? Such a one as you come between me and my
happiness?" The rich red bronze of her face faded to a livid hue, almost
white in its intensity. A strange, terrible light came into her eyes
and, as she glided close up to him, he recoiled from her in terror as
though from a panther about to spring. Don Felipe had never stood so
near to death before. She halted and raised her right hand as if to
strike him across the face, then paused and lowered it.
"Don Felipe Ramirez," she hissed in an almost inaudible voice, "if you
so much as harm a hair of his head, I'll tear you limb from limb!"
"Bah!" he replied, recovering his equilibrium. "Do you think I fear a
woman?"
"Don Felipe," she began slowly, controlling with effort the violent
emotions that swept over her, "it is no idle boast if I remind you that
no one in Chihuahua shoots better than I do."
"Ha!" he laughed, snapping his fingers. "You think to kill me?"
"And if I did," she replied slowly, her voice vibrant with passion, "you
would not be the first man I have killed, Don Felipe Ramirez. And what's
more, if it comes to a question of you or him, I'll kill you as I would
a snake or sage-rabbit." He started. He began to see her in a new light.
With her subtle wit, her grace and alluring beauty, she was far more
dangerous than a man; but he was not intimidated. Craven though his soul
might be, he could not be accused of cowardice in the face of danger.
Besides, what had he to live for? Better be dead than forced to live
without her.
"Hearken, Don Felipe Ramirez," she continued calmly, her eyes riveted on
his face. "I have ridden many times in battle by the side of my father
before his death. The last time came very near being my end; it was when
the Government sent troops against my people, and we were surrounded in
the hills. That day my horse was killed under me twice. All day long we
fought and charged the enemy's lines, but to no avail--we could not
break them. The young officer in command of the Government's troops not
only outgeneraled all our maneuvers, but his life seemed charmed, for,
fire at him as often as we liked, we could not hit him. Finally
realizing that there was no hope of escape so long as he remained in
command, I rode forth alone between the lines and challenged him to
single combat. He accepted the challenge, but when he drew near and saw
that I was a woman, he refused to fight, for he was gallant as he was
brave. But I was too quick for him; I forced him to fight. His bullet
went through my shoulder, mine through his heart." She paused for an
instant, then resumed. "So, just as we that day passed over that brave
young officer's body, so shall I pass over yours, Don Felipe Ramirez, if
you persist in standing in my way."
For the first time he saw her in her true light--the Amazon, the woman
who had been trained to fight as men fight, and who had fought shoulder
to shoulder with men. He was silent. Never had she appeared so
beautiful, so terrible, so alluring and irresistible as during her
recital. The hour had come; the circle of death had closed about them,
and he knew now for a certainty that it meant either his life or hers;
that there was no longer any hope of a reconciliation, no longer room
for them both in this life.
"Do you imagine that I fear the threats of a woman?" he said at last, in
the same sneering tone as before, in which she, too, read his
unmistakable answer.
"You have been warned," she answered quietly, and giving him a last
searching look, she turned and left him abruptly. Had ever mortal drunk
deeper of the cup of humiliation than he? The sound of her footsteps and
tinkle of her spurs died away along the pathway as she disappeared
around the corner of the house. He noted that she carried herself as
erect as ever; every movement bespoke the unconquerable pride of her
race. God! how he hated her! What would he not give to break that
pride--that pride which seemed to enable her to surmount every obstacle.
It was not enough to kill Captain Forest. No, she must be broken
completely, humiliated in the eyes of the world, humbled to the dust as
he had been humbled; nothing short of that could satisfy him now. But
how, how was her ruin to be accomplished? he asked himself as he paced
back and forth, almost suffocating with rage. Suddenly an idea flashed
through his mind, causing him to stop short.
"Ah!" he cried aloud, "why did she dance; why has she concealed her
motive so carefully from the world? It must be the clew to some mystery
in her life! God! if I could but learn the reason--"
"What would Don Felipe Ramirez give to know?" came a voice from behind
him, causing him to start and turn around just in time to see Juan
emerge from the lilac bushes.
"Juan Ramon!" he exclaimed.
"Aye, _Caballero_!" replied Juan lightly, raising his _sombrero_ as he
advanced.
"What do you know?" asked Felipe, half contemptuously, regarding him
with keen, searching eyes.
"Don't worry about what I know; leave that to me for the present,"
answered Juan, his peculiarly cold smile lighting up his face. "But what
will you give to know, Don Felipe Ramirez?" he continued, with the keen
air of the tradesman who beholds a sure customer before him and is
determined to drive a sharp bargain.
"What will I give?" repeated Felipe, slowly, relapsing into thought. For
some time he was silent, during which he regarded Juan's features
intently, as if to assure himself of the latter's good faith. Then
suddenly and impetuously he cried: "I'll tell you, Juan Ramon! I'll give
you gold enough to keep you drunk and your mistress clothed in silks and
satins for the rest of your days! Aye, the finest pair of horses in all
Mexico shall draw your carriage, and you shall have money to gamble."
"Then have patience for but a little while longer, Don Felipe Ramirez,"
replied Juan, rubbing the palms of his long, slim hands together, as
though he already felt the magic touch of the gold and heard its musical
clink in his ears.
"I hear that fortune has played you false of late, Juan Ramon," said
Felipe.
"'Tis the very devil, Señor!" answered Juan with an oath.
"Here, take this," continued Felipe, handing him a roll of bank notes
which he drew from his pocket. "You shall have as many men and horses to
assist you in the work as you want," he added.
"Horses I will need, but no men, Don Felipe," replied Juan, jubilant
over the return of fortune. The bargain was better than he had
anticipated.