The Trapper's Daughter Part 68

While the gambusino was saying this, Bloodson kept his eyes fixed on the casket. "Are you going?" he asked him, when he ceased speaking.

"Directly, Excellency; but if you permit it, we will make a slight alteration in the instruction you have given me."

"Speak."

"It strikes me that, if I am obliged to return here, we shall lose precious time in coming and going: which time Red Cedar, whose suspicions will be aroused, may profit by to decamp."

"That is true; but what is to be done?"

"Oh, it is very simple. When the moment arrives to spread our nets, I will light a fire on the mountain; which will serve as a signal to you to start at once; still, there would be no harm if someone accompanied me, and remained hidden near the spot where I am going."

"It shall be done as you wish," White Gazelle answered: "two persons will accompany you in lieu of one."

"How so?"

"Don Pablo de Zarate and myself intend to go with you," she continued, giving the young man a glance he understood.

"Then all is for the best," the gambusino said, "and we will start when you like."

"At once, at once," the two young people exclaimed.

"Our horses are not tired, and can easily cover that distance," Don Pablo remarked.

"Make haste, then, for moments are precious," said Bloodson, who burned to be alone.

"I only crave a few moments to saddle my horse."

"Go, we will wait for you here."

The gambusino went out. The three persons remained in silence, all equally perplexed about the casket, on which Bloodson had laid his hand as if afraid of having it torn from him again. Very shortly, a horse was heard galloping outside, and Garote put his head in at the door. "I am ready," he said.

White Gazelle and Don Pablo rose. "Let us go!" they shouted as they ran to the door.

"I wish you luck!" Bloodson said to them.

"Excellency, do not forget the coffer," the gambusino said with a grin; "you will find the contents most interesting to you."

So soon as the ranger was alone, he rose, carefully fastened the door, not to be disturbed in the examination he was about to make, and then sat down again, after selecting from a small deerskin pouch some hooks of different size. He then took the coffer, and carefully examined it all over. There was nothing remarkable about it: it was, as we have said elsewhere, a light casket of carved steel, made with the most exquisite taste--a pretty toy, in a word.

In spite of his desire to know its contents, the ranger hesitated to open it; this pretty little toy caused him an emotion for which he could not account: he fancied he had seen it before, but he racked his brains in vain to try and remember where. "Oh!" he said, speaking to himself in a low hoa.r.s.e voice; "Can I be approaching the consummation of the object to which I have devoted my life?"

He fell into a profound reverie, and remained for a lengthened period absorbed in a flood of bitter memories, that oppressed his breast. At length he raised his head, shook back his thick hair, and pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead.

"No more hesitation," he said, hoa.r.s.ely, "let me know what I have to depend on. Something tells me that my researches will this time be crowned with success."

He then seized one of the hooks with a trembling hand, and put it in the lock; but his emotion was so great that he could not make the instrument act, and he threw it angrily from him. "Am I a child, then?" he said; "I will be calm."

He took the hook up again with a firm hand, and the casket opened.

Bloodson looked eagerly into the interior; it only contained two letters, which time had turned yellow. At the sight of them, a livid pallor covered the ranger's face. He evidently recognised the handwriting at the first glance. He uttered a howl of joy, and seized the letters, saying, in a voice that had nothing human about it:-- "Here, then, are the proofs I believed to be destroyed!" He unfolded the paper with the most minute precautions, for fear of tearing the creases, and began reading. Ere long, a sigh of relief burst from his overladen bosom.

"Ah!" he uttered, "Heaven has at length delivered you to me, my masters; we will settle our accounts."

He replaced the letters in the casket, closed it again, and carefully hid it in his bosom.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

SMOKE IN THE MOUNTAIN.

The three adventurers rapidly left Bloodson's camp, and proceeded in the direction of the mountains, galloping silently side by side. They had a foreboding that the finale of this terrible drama was approaching, and involuntarily their thoughts were sad.

Man is so const.i.tuted that the feeling which has most power over him is sadness; human organisation is formed for struggling, and joy is only an anomaly; built to resist the hardest trials, the strongest man is frequently the one who yields most easily to great joy; hence, strange to say nothing more resembles happiness than sorrow; the symptoms are so completely the same, that a great joy annihilates the faculties almost as much as a great sorrow does.

At this moment, the three persons we are following were under the weight of an emotion such as we have described. At the instant when they expected the hopes they had so long entertained would be fulfilled, they felt an emotion which completely mastered them, and for which they could not account. They were about to play for a decisive stake. Ever since they had been contending with this rude adversary, they had ever found him standing in the track, returning them trick for trick, and although cruelly wounded, constantly retaining the victory. This time luck had turned; Heaven itself seemed to have interposed to make justice triumph, and the bandit, driven to his last entrenchments, was expecting them to be forced at any moment.

Still they did not conceal from themselves the difficulties of this final struggle, in which the squatter would escape the fate reserved him by death, unless they managed to deceive him by trickery. In such a state of mind, we may easily suppose that they said nothing, and reached the foot of the mountain without exchanging a syllable. Here they stopped.

"Caballeros," the gambusino said, "before going further, we shall not do badly, I fancy, by making some indispensable arrangements."

"What do you mean, my friend?" Don Pablo asked.

"We are going to enter regions," Andres replied, "where our horses will become more injurious than useful; in the mountains a footman pa.s.ses anywhere, a horseman nowhere."

"That is true; let us leave our horses here, then; the n.o.ble brutes will not stray beyond the spot where they can find provender. When we require them; we shall be sure to find them again, with a little search."

"Is that the senorita's opinion also?" the gambusino asked respectfully.

"Quite," she answered.

"Then let us dismount, remove saddle and bridle, and leave them to their instinct."

They removed everything that could trouble the horses, and then drove them away. The intelligent animals, accustomed to this, only went a few yards, and began quietly nibbling the thick prairie gra.s.s.

"That is all right," the gambusino said; "now let us think of ourselves."

"But the harness," White Gazelle remarked; "the moment will come when we shall be glad to have it ready to hand."

"Perfectly true," said Andres; "so we will put it in a safe place; for instance, this hollow tree will form a famous storeroom."

"Caramba! that is an original idea," Don Pablo said, "and deserves being followed."

The three saddles were placed in the tree, and so covered with dead leaves, that it would be impossible to suspect their presence.

"Now," said White Gazelle, "let us look after a place to bivouac: the nights are cold at this season, especially in the mountains; day is rapidly departing, and we shall soon be in darkness."