It wanted but an hour of midnight. There was a moon in the sky, but so
near the horizon, that the bluff bounding the southern side of the
valley threw out a shadow to the distance of many yards upon the plain.
Parallel to the line of the cliffs, and close in to their base, a
horseman could be seen advancing up the valley from the lower end of the
settlement. His cautious pace, and the anxious glances which he at
intervals cast before him, showed that he was travelling with some
apprehension, and was desirous of remaining unseen. It was evident,
too, that this was his object in keeping within the shadow of the cliff;
for on arriving at certain points where the precipice became slanting
and cast no shadow, he would halt for a while, and, after carefully
reconnoitring the ground, pass rapidly over it. Concealment could be
his only object in thus closely hugging the bluffs, for a much better
road could have been found at a little distance out from them.
After travelling for many miles in this way, the horseman at length
arrived opposite the town, which still, however, was three miles distant
from the cliff. From this point a road led off to the town,
communicating between it and a pass up the bluffs to the left.
The horseman halted, and gazed awhile along the road, as if undecided
whether to take it or not. Having resolved in the negative, he moved
on, and rode nearly a mile farther under the shadow of the bluffs.
Again he halted, and scanned the country to his right. A bridle-path
seemed to run in the direction of the town, or towards a point somewhat
above it. After a short examination the horseman seemed to recognise
this path as one he was in search of, and, heading his horse into it, he
parted from the shadow of the bluffs, and rode out under the full
moonlight. This, shining down upon him, showed a young man of fine
proportions, dressed in ranchero costume, and mounted upon a noble
steed, whose sleek black coat glittered under the silvery light. It was
easy to know the rider. His bright complexion, and light-coloured hair
curling thickly under the brim of his sombrero, were characteristics not
to be mistaken in that land of dark faces. He was Carlos the cibolero.
It could be seen now that a large wolf-like dog trotted near the heels
of the horse. That dog was Cibolo.
Advancing in the direction of the town, the caution of the horseman
seemed to increase.
The country before him was not quite open. It was level; but
fortunately for him, its surface was studded with copse-like islands of
timber, and here and there straggling patches of chapparal through,
which the path led. Before entering these the dog preceded him, but
without noise or bark; and when emerging into the open plain again, the
horseman each time halted and scanned the ground that separated him from
the next copse, before attempting to pass over it.
Proceeding in this way, he arrived at length within several hundred
yards of the outskirts of the town, and could see the walls, with the
church cupola shining over the tops of the trees. One line of wall on
which his eyes were fixed lay nearer than the rest. He recognised its
outline. It was the parapet over the house of Don Ambrosio--in the rear
of which he had now arrived.
He halted in a small copse of timber, the last upon the plain. Beyond,
in the direction of Don Ambrose's house, the ground was open and level
up to the bank of the stream already described as running along the
bottom of the garden. The tract was a meadow belonging to Don Ambrosio,
and used for pasturing the horses of his establishment. It was
accessible to these by means of a rude bridge that crossed the stream
outside the walls of the garden. Another bridge, however, joined the
garden itself to the meadow. This was much slighter and of neater
construction--intended only for foot-passengers. It was, in fact, a
mere private bridge, by which the fair daughter of Don Ambrosio could
cross to enjoy her walk in the pleasant meadow beyond. Upon this little
bridge, at its middle part, was a gate with lock and key, to keep
intruders from entering the precincts of the garden.
This bridge was not over three hundred yards from the copse in which
Carlos had halted, and nothing intervened but the darkness to prevent
him from having a view of it. However, as the moon was still up, he
could distinctly see the tall posterns, and light-coloured palings of
the gate, glimmering in her light. The stream he could not see--as at
this point it ran between high banks--and the garden itself was hidden
from view by the grove of cotton-woods and china-trees growing along its
bottom.
After arriving in the copse Carlos dismounted; and having led his horse
into the darkest shadow of the trees, there left him. He did not tie
him to anything, but merely rested the bridle over the pommel of the
saddle, so that it might not draggle upon the ground. He had long ago
trained the noble animal to remain where he was placed without other
fastening than this.
This arrangement completed, he walked forward to the edge of the
underwood, and there stood with his eyes fixed upon the bridge and the
dark grove beyond it. It was not the first time for him to go through
all the manoeuvres here described--no, not by many--but, perhaps, on no
other occasion were his emotions so strong and strange as on the
present.
He had prepared himself for the interview he was now expecting--he had
promised himself a frankness of speech his modesty had never before
permitted him to indulge in--he had resolved on proposals--the rejection
or acceptance of which might determine his future fate. His heart beat
within his breast so as to be audible to his own ears.
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Perfect stillness reigned through the town. The inhabitants had all
retired to their beds, and not a light appeared from door or window.
All were close shut and fast bolted. No one appeared in the streets,
except the half-dozen "serenos" who formed the night-watch of the place.
These could be seen muffled up in their dark cloaks, sitting half
asleep on the banquetas of houses, and grasping in one hand their huge
halberds, while their lanterns rested upon the pavement at their feet.
Perfect stillness reigned around the mansion of Don Ambrosio. The
great gate of the zaguan was closed and barred, and the portero had
retired within his "lodge," thus signifying that all the inmates of the
dwelling had returned home. If silence denoted sleep, all were asleep;
but a ray of light escaping through the silken curtains of a glass door,
and falling dimly upon the pavement of the patio, showed that one at
least still kept vigil. That light proceeded from the chamber of
Catalina.
All at once the stillness of the night was broken by the loud tolling of
a bell. It was the clock of the parroquia announcing the hour of
midnight.
The last stroke had not ceased to reverberate when the light in the
chamber appeared to be suddenly extinguished--for it no longer glowed
through the curtain.
Shortly after, the glass door was silently opened from the inside; and a
female form closely muffled came forth, and glided with stealthy and
sinuous step around the shadowy side of the patio. The tall elegant
figure could not be hidden by the disguise of the ample cloak in which
it was muffled, and the graceful gait appeared even when constrained and
stealthy. It was the Senorita herself.
Having passed round the patio, she entered the avenue that led to the
garden. Here a heavy door barred the egress from the house, and before
this she stopped. Only a moment. A key appeared from under her cloak,
and the large bolt with some difficulty yielded to her woman's strength.
It did not yield silently. The rusty iron sounded as it sprang back
into the lock, causing her to start and tremble. She even returned back
through the avenue, to make sure whether any one had heard it; and,
standing in the dark entrance, glanced round the patio. Had she not
heard a door closing as she came back? She fancied so; and alarmed by
it, she stood for some time gazing upon the different doors that opened
upon the court. They were all close shut, her own not excepted, for she
had closed it on coming out. Still her fancy troubled her, and, but
half satisfied, she returned to the gate.
This she opened with caution, and, passing through, traversed the rest
of the avenue, and came out in the open ground. Keeping under the
shadow of the trees and shrubbery, she soon reached the grove at the
bottom of the garden. Here she paused for a moment, and, looking
through the stems of the trees, scanned the open surface in the
direction of the copse where Carlos had halted.
No object was visible but the outlines of the timber island itself,
under whose shadow a human form in dark clothing could not have been
recognised at such a distance.
After pausing a moment she glided among the trees of the grove, and the
next moment stood, upon the centre and highest point of the bridge in
front of the little gate. Here she again stopped, drew from under her
cloak a white cambric handkerchief, and, raising herself to her full
height, held it spread out between her hands.
The air was filled with fire-flies, whose light sparkled thickly against
the dark background of the copsewood; but these did not prevent her from
distinguishing a brighter flash, like the snapping of a lucifer-match,
that appeared among them. Her signal was answered!
She lowered the handkerchief, and, taking out a small key, applied it to
the lock of the gate. This was undone in a second, and, having thrown
open the wicket, she retired within the shadow of the grove, and stood
waiting.
Even in that dark shadow her eyes sparkled with the light of love, as
she saw a form--the form of a man on foot, parting from the copse, and
coming in the direction of the bridge. It was to her the dearest on
earth; and she awaited the approach with a flushed cheek and a heart
full of joyful emotion.