As Captain Carroll urged his horse along the miry road to La Mision
Perdida, he was struck with certain changes in the landscape before him
other than those wrought by the winter rains. There were the usual
deep gullies and trenches, half-filled with water, in the fields and
along the road, but there were ominous embankments and ridges of
freshly turned soil, and a scattered fringe of timbers following a
cruel, undeviating furrow on the broad grazing lands of the Mision.
But it was not until he had crossed the arroyo that he felt the full
extent of the late improvements. A quick rumbling in the distance, a
light flash of steam above the willow copse, that drifted across the
field on his right, and he knew that the railroad was already in
operation. Captain Carroll reined in his frightened charger, and
passed his hand across his brow with a dazed sense of loss. He had
been gone only four months--yet he already felt strange and forgotten.
It was with a feeling of relief that he at last turned from the
high-road into the lane. Here everything was unchanged, except that
the ditches were more thickly strewn with the sodden leaves of fringing
oaks and sycamores. Giving his horse to a servant in the court-yard,
he did not enter the patio, but, crossing the lawn, stepped upon the
long veranda. The rain was dripping from its eaves and striking a
minute spray from the vines that clung to its columns; his footfall
awoke a hollow echo as he passed, as if the outer shell of the house
were deserted; the formal yews and hemlocks that in summer had relieved
the dazzling glare of six months' sunshine had now taken gloomy
possession of the garden, and the evening shadows, thickened by rain,
seemed to lie in wait at every corner. The servant, who had, with
old-fashioned courtesy, placed the keys and the "disposition" of that
wing of the house at his service, said that Dona Maria would wait upon
him in the salon before dinner. Knowing the difficulty of breaking the
usual rigid etiquette, and trusting to the happy intervention of
Maruja--though here, again, custom debarred him from asking for her--he
allowed the servant to remove his wet overcoat, and followed him to the
stately and solemn chamber prepared for him. The silence and gloom of
the great house, so grateful and impressive in the ardent summer, began
to weigh upon him under this shadow of an overcast sky. He walked to
the window and gazed out on the cloister-like veranda. A melancholy
willow at an angle of the stables seemed to be wringing its hands in
the rising wind. He turned for relief to the dim fire that flickered
like a votive taper in the vault-like hearth, and drew a chair towards
it. In spite of the impatience and preoccupation of a lover, he found
himself again and again recurring to the story he had just heard, until
the vengeful spirit of the murdered Doctor seemed to darken and possess
the house. He was striving to shake off the feeling, when his
attention was attracted to stealthy footsteps in the passage. Could it
be Maruja? He rose to his feet, with his eye upon the door. The
footsteps ceased--it remained closed. But another door, which had
escaped his attention in the darkened corner, slowly swung on its
hinges, and, with a stealthy step, Pereo, the mayordomo, entered the
room.
Courageous and self-possessed as Captain Carroll was by nature and
education, this malevolent vision, and incarnation of the thought
uppermost in his mind, turned him cold. He had half drawn a derringer
from his breast, when his eye fell on the grizzled locks and wrinkled
face of the old man, and his hand dropped to his side. But Pereo, with
the quick observation of insanity, had noticed the weapon, and rubbed
his hands together, with a malicious laugh.
"Good! good! good!" he whispered, rapidly, in a strange bodiless voice;
"'t will serve! 't will serve! And you are a soldier too--and know how
to use it! Good, it is a Providence!" He lifted his hollow eyes to
heaven, and then added, "Come! come!"
Carroll stepped towards him. He was alone and in the presence of an
undoubted madman--one strong enough, in spite of his years, to inflict
a deadly injury, and one whom he now began to realize might have done
so once before. Nevertheless, he laid his hand on the old man's arm,
and, looking him calmly in the eye, said, quietly, "Come? Where,
Pereo? I have only just arrived."
"I know it," whispered the old man, nodding his head violently. "I was
watching them, when you rode up. That is why I lost the scent; but
together we can track them still--we can track them. Eh, Captain, eh!
Come! Come!" and he moved slowly backward, waving his hand towards the
door.
"Track whom, Pereo?" said Carroll, soothingly. "Whom do you seek?"
"Whom?" said the old man, startled for a moment and passing his hand
over his wrinkled forehead. "Whom? Eh! Why, the Dona Maruja and the
little black cat--her maid--Faquita!"
"Yes, but why seek them? Why track them?"
"Why?" said the old man, with a sudden burst of impotent passion. "YOU
ask me why! Because they are going to the rendezvous again. They are
going to seek him. Do you understand--to seek HIM--the Coyote!"
Carroll smiled a faint smile of relief--"So--the Coyote!"
"Ay," said the old man, in a confidential whisper; "the Coyote! But not
the big one--you understand--the little one. The big one is
dead--dead--dead! But the little one lives yet. You shall do for HIM
what I, Pereo--listen--" he glanced around the room furtively--"what
I--the good old Pereo, did for the big one! Good, it is a Providence.
Come!"
Of the terrible thoughts that crossed Carroll's mind at this unexpected
climax one alone was uppermost. The trembling irresponsible wretch
before him meditated some vague crime--and Maruja was in danger. He
did not allow himself to dwell upon any other suspicion suggested by
that speech; he quickly conceived a plan of action. To have rung the
bell and given Pereo into the hands of the servants would have only
exposed to them the lunatic's secret--if he had any--and he might
either escape in his fury or relapse into useless imbecility. To humor
him and follow him, and trust afterwards to his own quickness and
courage to avert any calamity, seemed to be the only plan. Captain
Carroll turned his clear glance on the restless eyes of Pereo, and
said, without emotion, "Let us go, then, and quickly. You shall track
them for me; but remember, good Pereo, you must leave the rest to me."
In spite of himself, some accidental significance in this ostentatious
adjuration to lull Pereo's suspicions struck him with pain. But the old
man's eyes glittered with gratified passion as he said, "Ay, good! I
will keep my word. Thou shalt work thy will on the little one as I
have said. Truly it is a Providence! Come!" Seeing Captain Carroll
glance round for his overcoat, he seized a poncho from the wall,
wrapped it round him, and grasped his hand. Carroll, who would have
evaded this semblance of disguise, had no time to parley, and they
turned together, through the door by which Pereo had entered, into a
long dark passage, which seemed to be made through the outer shell of
the building that flanked the park. Following his guide in the profound
obscurity, perfectly conscious that any change in his madness might be
followed by a struggle in the dark, where no help could reach them,
they presently came to a door that opened upon the fresh smell of rain
and leaves. They were standing at the bottom of a secluded alley,
between two high hedges that hid it from the end of the garden. Its
grass-grown walk and untrimmed hedges showed that it was seldom used.
Carroll, still keeping close to Pereo's side, felt him suddenly stop
and tremble. "Look!" he said, pointing to a shadowy figure some
distance before them; "look, 'tis Maruja, and alone!"
With a dexterous movement, Carroll managed to slip his arm securely
through the old man's, and even to throw himself before him, as if in
his eagerness to discern the figure.
"'Tis Maruja--and alone!" said Pereo, trembling. "Alone! Eh! And the
Coyote is not here!" He passed his hand over his staring eyes. "So."
Suddenly he turned upon Carroll. "Ah, do you not see, it is a trick!
The Coyote is escaping with Faquita! Come! Nay; thou wilt not? Then
will I!" With an unexpected strength born of his madness, he freed his
arm from Carroll and darted down the alley. The figure of Maruja,
evidently alarmed at his approach, glided into the hedge, as Pereo
passed swiftly by, intent only on his one wild fancy. Without a
further thought of his companion or even the luckless Faquita, Carroll
also plunged through the hedge, to intercept Maruja. But by that time
she was already crossing the upper end of the lawn, hurrying towards
the entrance to the patio. Carroll did not hesitate to follow. Keeping
in view the lithe, dark, active little figure, now hidden by an
intervening cluster of bushes, now fading in the gathering evening
shadows, he nevertheless did not succeed in gaining upon her until she
had nearly reached the patio. Here he lost ground, as turning to the
right, instead of entering the court-yard, she kept her way toward the
stables. He was near enough, however, to speak. "One moment, Miss
Saltonstall," he said hurriedly; "there is no danger. I am alone. But
I must speak with you."
The young girl seemed only to redouble her exertions. At last she
stopped before a narrow door hidden in the wall, and fumbled in her
pocket for a key. That moment Carroll was upon her.
"Forgive me, Miss Saltonstall--Maruja; but you must hear me! You are
safe, but I fear for your maid, Faquita!"
A little laugh followed his speech; the door yielded and opened to her
vanishing figure. For an instant the lace shawl muffling her face was
lifted, as the door closed and locked behind her. Carroll drew back in
consternation. It was the laughing eyes and saucy face of Faquita!