"Ha! ha! ha! A capital joke, by my honour!" continued Roblado, laughing
as he puffed his cigar. "It's the only piece of fun I've enjoyed since
we came to this stupid place. Even in a frontier post I find that one
_may_ have a little amusement if he know how to make it. Ha! ha! ha!
After all, there was a devilish deal of trouble. But come, tell me, my
dear Comandante--for you know by this time--in confidence, was it worth
the trouble?"
"I am sorry we have taken it," was the reply, delivered in a serious
tone.
Roblado looked straight in the other's face, and now for the first time
noticed its gloomy expression. Busied with his cigar, he had not
observed this before.
"Hola!" exclaimed he; "what's the matter, my colonel? This is not the
look a man should wear who has spent the last twelve hours as pleasantly
as you must have done. Something amiss?"
"Everything amiss."
"Pray what? Surely you were with her?"
"But a moment, and that was enough."
"Explain, my dear colonel."
"She is mad!"
"Mad!"
"Having mad! Her talk terrified me. I was but too glad to come away,
and leave her to the care of Jose, who waits upon her. I could not bear
to listen to her strange jabberings. I assure you, camarado, it robbed
me of all desire to remain."
"Oh," said Roblado, "that's nothing--she'll get over it in a day or so.
She still thinks herself in the hands of the savages who are going to
murder and scalp her! It may be as well for you to undeceive her of
this as soon as she comes to her senses. I don't see any harm in
letting _her_ know. You must do so in the end, and the sooner the
better--you will have the longer time to get her reconciled to it. Now
that you have her snug within earless and eyeless walls, you can manage
the thing at your leisure. No one suspects--no one _can_ suspect. They
are full of the Indians to-day--ha! ha! ha! and 'tis said her inamorato,
Don Juan, talks of getting up a party to pursue them! Ha! ha! He'll
not do that--the fellow hasn't influence enough, and nobody cares either
about his cattle or the witch's daughter. Had it been some one else the
case might have been different. As it is, there's no fear of discovery,
even were the cibolero himself to make his appearance--"
"Roblado!" cried the Comandante, interrupting him, and speaking in a
deep earnest voice.
"Well?" inquired the captain, regarding Vizcarra with astonishment.
"I have had a dream--a fearful dream; and that--not the ravings of the
girl--it is that is now troubling me. _Diablos_! a fearful dream!"
"You, Comandante--a valiant soldier--to let a silly dream trouble you!
But come! what was it? I'm a good interpreter of dreams. I warrant I
read it to your bettor satisfaction."
"Simple enough it is, then. I thought myself upon the cliff of La Nina.
I thought that I was alone with Carlos the cibolero! I thought that he
knew all, and that he had brought me there to punish me--to avenge
_her_. I had no power to resist, but was led forward to the brink. I
thought that we closed and struggled for a while; but at length I was
shaken from his grasp, and pushed over the precipice! I felt myself
falling--falling! I could see above me the cibolero, with his sister by
his side, and on the extremest point the hideous witch their mother, who
laughed a wild maniac laugh, and clapped her long bony hands! I felt
myself falling--falling--yet still not reaching the ground; and this
horrible feeling continued for a long, long time--in fact, until the
fearful thought awoke me. Even then I could scarce believe I had been
dreaming, so palpable was the impression that remained. Oh, comrade, it
was a dreadful dream!"
"And _but_ a dream; and what signifies--"
"Stay, Roblado! I have not told you all. Within the hour--ay, within
the quarter of that time--while I was on this spot thinking over it, I
chanced to look up to the cliff; and yonder, upon the extreme point, was
a horseman clearly outlined against the sky--and that horseman the very
image of the cibolero! I noted the horse and the seat of the rider,
which I well remember. I could not trust my eyes to look at him. I
averted them for a moment--only a moment; and when I looked again he was
gone! So quickly had he retired, that I was inclined to think it was
only a fancy--that there had been none--and that my dream had produced
the illusion!"
"That is likely enough," said Roblado, desirous of comforting his
companion; "likely enough--nothing more natural. In the first place,
from where we stand to the top of La Nina is a good five thousand varas
as the crow flies; and for you, at that distance, to distinguish Carlos
the cibolero from any other horseman is a plain impossibility. In the
second place, Carlos the cibolero is at this moment full five hundred
miles from the tip of my cigar, risking his precious carcase for a
cartload of stinking hides and a few bultos of dried buffalo-beef. Let
us hope that some of his copper-coloured friends will raise his
hay-coloured hair, which some of our poblanas so much admire. And now,
my dear Comandante, as to your dream, that is as natural as may be. It
could hardly be otherwise than that you should have such a dream. The
remembrance of the cibolero's feat of horsemanship on that very cliff,
and the later affair with the sister, together with the suspicion you
may naturally entertain that Senor Carlos wouldn't be too kind to you if
he knew all and had you in his power--all these things, being in your
thoughts at one time, must come together incongruously in a dream. The
old woman, too--if she wasn't in your thoughts, she has been in mine
ever since I gave her that knock in the doorway. Who could forget such
a picture as she then presented? Ha! ha! ha!"
The brutal villain laughed--not so much from any ludicrous recollection,
as to make the whole thing appear light and trivial in the eyes of his
companion.
"What does it all amount to?" he continued. "A dream! a simple,
everyday dream! Come, my dear friend, don't let it remain on your mind
for another instant!"
"I cannot help it, Roblado. It clings to me like my shadow. It feels
like a presentiment. I wish I had left this paisana in her mud hut. By
Heaven! I wish she were back there. I shall not be myself till I have
got rid of her. I seem to loathe as much as I loved the jabbering
idiot."
"Tut, tut, man! you'll soon change your way of thinking--you'll soon
take a fresh liking--"
"No, Roblado, no! I'm disgusted--I can't tell why but I _am_. Would to
God she were off my hands!"
"Oh! that's easy enough, and without hurting anybody. She can go the
way she came. It will only be another scene in the masquerade, and no
one will be the wiser. If you are really in earnest--"
"Roblado!" cried the Comandante, grasping his captain by the arm, "I
never was more in earnest in my life. Tell me the plan to get her back
without making a noise about it. Tell me quick, for I cannot bear this
horrid feeling any longer."
"Why, then," began Roblado, "we must have another travestie of Indians--
we must--"
He was suddenly interrupted. A short, sharp groan escaped from
Vizcarra. His eyes looked as though about to start from his head. His
lips grow white, and the perspiration leaped into drops on his forehead!
What could it mean? Vizcarra stood by the outer edge of the azotea that
commanded a view of the road leading up to the gate of the Presidio. He
was gazing over the parapet, and pointing with outstretched arm.
Roblado was farther back, near the centre of the azotea. He sprang
forward, and looked in the direction indicated. A horseman, covered
with sweat and dust, was galloping up the road. He was near enough for
Roblado to distinguish his features. Vizcarra had already distinguished
them. It was Carlos the cibolero!