Though the dialogue between Nacena and Shebotha's slave was in the Tovas
tongue, she who has overheard them inside the hut has sufficient
acquaintance with it to make out that the Indian girl is seeking an
interview with herself. But for what purpose, she has not the most
distant idea, and cannot conceive why it should specially be sought at
that strange hour, when everybody else is abed. She knows Nacena by
name, as by sight; having on many occasions seen her at the old
_tolderia_. But the two have never had acquaintance, nor held
conversation; the sister of Kaolin always seeming shy with her, and
never visiting the _estancia_, as did the other girls of the tribe.
More than this, she remembers that whenever of late she by chance met
the savage maiden, she had observed a scowl upon the latter's face,
which she could not help fancying was meant for herself. Nor had her
fancy been astray; since in reality for her was that black look. Though
for what reason Francesca could not tell, having never that she could
think of done aught that should give offence to Kaolin's sister.
Besides, was not Kaolin himself the bosom friend of her brother Ludwig?
Still, recalling that scowl so often seen upon Nacena's countenance--
with a suspicion, purely intuitive, of what may have caused it--not
strange she should deem the visit of the Indian girl boding no good to
her, but instead something of ill.
As the latter steps inside the _toldo_, however, and the light falls
upon her face, the captive can there see no sign of malice, nor token of
hostility. Instead, it is lit up by a smile which seems rather to speak
of friendship and protection. And, in truth, such are among the
sentiments now moving the Indian girl to action. At the prospect of
being for ever rid of a rival she sees so helpless, the feeling of
jealousy has passed away out of her heart, as its frown from her face,
and she approaches the captive with the air of one who has both the wish
and the power to give liberty. She is the first to speak, asking
abruptly--
"Do you wish to be free?"
"Why do you ask that?" is the interrogative rejoinder, in a tone
distrustful. For that smile may be but to deceive.
"Because Nacena has it in her power to give you freedom if you desire
it."
"Desire it!" exclaims the captive. "Nacena is but mocking me," she
adds, involuntarily falling into the figurative mode of speech peculiar
to the American Indian. "Indeed, I do desire it. But how could Nacena
set me at liberty?"
"By taking the paleface to her people."
"They are far away--hundreds of miles. Would Nacena herself take me to
them?"
"No. That is not needed. The paleface is mistaken. Her friends are
not far away, but near. They wait for her to come out to them."
The captive gives a start of surprise, the light of hope and joy, long
absent from her eyes, rekindling in them, as another light breaks upon
her.
"Of whom does Nacena speak?"
"Of your brother the fair-haired youth, your cousin the dark Paraguayan,
and the gaucho who has guided them hither. All three are close to the
_tolderia_, on the other side of the hill--as I've said, expecting you.
Nacena has spoken with them, and promised she will conduct you to where
they are. White sister!" she adds, in a tone of unmistakeable
sincerity, at the same time drawing closer to the captive, and tenderly
taking her by the hand, "do not show distrust, but let Nacena keep her
word. She will restore you to your friends, your brother; ah! to one
who waits for you with anxiety keener than all!"
At the last words the captive bends upon her would-be deliverer a
bewildered, wondering look. Is it possible Nacena has knowledge of her
tenderest secret? It must be so; but how can she have learnt it?
Surely Cypriano--whom she says she has seen outside and spoken with--
surely, he could not have revealed it; would not! Francesca forgets
that the Indian girl was for years a near neighbour to her father's
_estancia_; and though never visiting there, with the keen intuition of
her race was like enough to have learnt, that the relationship between
her cousin and herself had something in it beyond mere cousinly
affection.
While she is still cogitating as to how Nacena could have come to this
knowledge, and wondering the while, the latter bleaks in upon her
wonderment, and once more urges her to flight, again speaking of him who
is near and dear, so anxiously expecting her.
It needs not such pressing appeal. For the captive girl, her surprise
once past, is but too willing to embrace the opportunity so unexpectedly
offered, and by one so unlikely to offer it. Therefore, without further
hesitation, she signifies acceptance, saying, "I will trust you, Nacena.
You have called me your white sister, and I believe you sincere. You
would not speak so if you meant me harm. Take me where you will; I am
ready to go with you."
Saying which, she holds out her hand, as if offering to be led.
The Indian girl taking it, turns her face for the door, and is about to
step towards it, when she remembers the watcher without; and obstruction
she had for the time forgotten. Will he bar their exit? A cloud comes
over her brow, as she asks herself the question; for, mentally answering
it, she thinks he most probably will.
The other observing her hesitation, and quite comprehending it, makes no
inquiry about the cause. That is already declared in the dialogue
lately overheard by her; and as he outside is likely to be listening,
the two now take counsel together, speaking in whispers.
Nacena, from a better knowledge of the situation, is of course the chief
adviser, and it ends in her determining to show a bold front, and pass
out as if already armed with Shebotha's permission. If interrupted,
they can then make a rush for it. In short, after a hurried
consultation, they can think of no other way, much less a better one.
For by the shuffling of footsteps, and a wheezing noise--Shebotha's
slave being afflicted with asthma--they can tell that he is close by the
entrance.
Soon as resolved how to act, the Indian girl, still holding the captive
by the hand, leads her on to the door; and, passing over the threshold
side by side, they present themselves to the sentry, Nacena saying:
"In going in I forgot to tell you my errand from Mam Shebotha. She bade
me bring the paleface to where she is herself. You see, I am taking
her."
"You cannot take her out of the _toldo_," rejoins the man in a tone of
dogged denial. "You must not; Shebotha would kill me if I permitted
it."
"But I have Shebotha's command to do so."
"How am I to know that?"
"You forget what I have said, and what I've given you."
She points to the strange rosary, which he had taken from her, and still
retains--possibly as a voucher against any mistake that may arise.
"No, I don't," he rejoins, holding the string up before her eyes, and
shaking it till the teeth rattle. "There it is; but withal, I can't
allow her, the paleface, to go with you. It might be as much as my life
is worth."
"But what is your life worth without liberty?"
It is not Nacena who puts this question, but the paleface herself;
speaking to him in her native tongue, as his. He gives a sudden start
on hearing it, and regards the young girl with a stare of astonishment,
rubbing his eyes as though just awakened from a long-continued sleep.
"Ah--eh!" he exclaims, excitedly. "What's that? Liberty, did you say?
Liberty? Mine's gone long ago. I'm but a poor slave--Shebotha's slave.
I can never be free again; no, _never_!"
"You may be free now--this very moment--if you wish it."
"If I wish it! Ha, ha, ha! That's a good joke! If I wish it! Only
show me the way, and let Mam Shebotha go to--"
"Never mind Mam Shebotha. Listen to me, who am of the same race and
people as yourself. There are some of them now near, who have come to
take me home to my friends. You must have friends too, whom you left
long ago. Why should you not go back to them?"
"_Carramba_!" he cries out, as if the sound of his native tongue had
brought back to remembrance one of its most common exclamations, and
along with it a desire to return to the place where he last heard it
spoken. "Why should I not? If you say you'll take me, I will."
"Ah! I'll not only take you, but be glad of your company. _Nos
vamos_!"
It is still Francesca who speaks, and at the last words, pronounced in a
tone of half encouragement, half command, she stretches out her hand,
and taking hold of that of her late jailer, leads him off, as a rough
pampas colt just tamed and gentled.
Nacena, astonished at the spirit shown by the little paleface, and
delighted with a success which may prove advantageous to herself, says
not a word; but steps off forward in front of the other two--making mute
pantomimic signs to guide them in the direction they are to go.