The Trapper's Daughter Part 70

Of a truth, he must have been gifted with ample stock of courage thus to brave a danger which was the more terrible, because it was unknown. With his eye fixed on the fire, which served as his polar star, Don Pablo advanced cautiously with outstretched arms, stopping at intervals to account for the nameless noises which constantly growl in caverns, and ready to defend himself against the invisible foes he suspected in the shadow.

He went on thus for a long time, the fire not appearing to grow larger, when the granite on which he rested his left hand to guide himself suddenly left off, and at the end of a narrow pa.s.sage, dimly lighted by an expiring torch of candlewood, he perceived Ellen kneeling on the bare ground, and praying fervently.

The young man stopped, struck with admiration at this unexpected sight.

The maiden, with her hair untied and floating in long tresses on her shoulders, with pallid face bathed in tears, seemed to be suffering the greatest sorrow. Sobs and heavy sighs were escaping from her burdened bosom.

Don Pablo could not resist the emotion that seized upon him. At this crus.h.i.+ng sight, forgetting all prudence, he rushed toward the maiden with open arms, exclaiming, with an accent of supreme love: "Ellen, Ellen, what is the matter?"

At this voice, which smote her ear so unexpectedly, the girl rose, and said, with gestures of great majesty:

"Fly, unhappy man, fly, or you are lost!"

"Ellen," he repeated, as he fell on his knees, and clasped his hands in entreaty, "for mercy's sake hear me!"

"What do you want here?" she continued.

"I have come to save you, or perish in the attempt."

"Save me," she cried, sadly; "no, Don Pablo, my destiny is fixed forever. Leave me--fly--I implore you."

"No. I tell you a terrible danger impends over your father. He is hopelessly lost. Come, fly; there is yet time. Oh, Ellen, I implore you, in the name of our love--so chaste and pure, follow me!"

The maiden shook her head with a movement that set her long, fair tresses waving.

"I am condemned, I tell you, Don Pablo; remaining longer here will be your destruction. You say you love me--well, in the name of your love, or, if you insist, of mine, I implore you to leave me, to shun me forever. Oh, believe me, Don Pablo, my touch brings death. I am an accursed creature."

The young man folded his arms on his chest, and raised his head proudly.

"No," he said resolutely, "I will not go, I do not wish for the devotion to be yours solely. What do I care for life if I may never see you again? Ellen, we will die together."

"Oh, Heavens, how he loves me!" she exclaimed, in despair. "Oh, Lord!

Lord! Have I suffered enough? Is the measure now full? Oh, Lord! Give me the strength to accomplish my sacrifice to the end. Listen, Don Pablo,"

she said to him, as she caught hold of his arm fiercely, "my father is an outlaw, the whole world rejects him; he has only one joy, one happiness in his immense suffering--his daughter. I cannot, I will not abandon him. Whatever love I may feel for you in my heart, Don Pablo, I will never leave my father. No, all is said between us, my love; remaining here longer would be uselessly braving a terrible and inevitable danger. Go, Don Pablo, go--it must be so."

"Remember," the young man said with a groan, "remember, Ellen, that this interview will be the last."

"I know it."

"You still wish me to go?"

"I insist on it."

"Yes, but I do not wish it," a rough voice suddenly said.

They turned in terror, and perceived Red Cedar looking at them with a grin, as he leant on his rifle. Ellen gave her father such a flas.h.i.+ng glance, that the old squatter involuntarily looked down without replying. She turned to Don Pablo, and took his hand. "Come," she said to him. She walked resolutely toward her father, who did not stir. "Make way," she said boldly.

"No," the trapper answered.

"Pay attention to me, father," she continued; "I have sacrificed for you my life, my happiness, all my hopes on this earth, but on one condition that his life shall be sacred. Let him go, then; I insist on it."

"No," he said again, "he must die."

Ellen burst into a wild laugh, whose shrill notes made the two men shudder. With a movement swift as thought, she tore a pistol from the squatter's belt, c.o.c.ked it, and put the muzzle to her forehead. "Make way!" she repeated.

Red Cedar uttered a yell of terror. "Stop!" he shouted, as he rushed toward her.

"For the last time, make way, or I kill myself!"

"Oh!" he said with an expression of rage impossible to endure, "Go, demon, but I shall find you again."

"Farewell, my beloved!" Ellen cried pa.s.sionately; "farewell for the last time!"

"Ellen," the young man answered, "we shall meet again; I will save you in spite of yourself."

And rus.h.i.+ng down the pa.s.sage, he disappeared.

"And now, father," the maiden said, throwing the pistol far from her, when the sound of her lover's footsteps died away in the distance, "do with me what you please."

"I pardon you, child," Red Cedar replied gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth, "but I will kill him."

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

THE BOAR AT BAY.

Don Pablo ran out of the cavern and joined Andres Garote hastily, who still slept. The young man had some difficulty in waking him, but at length he opened his eyes, sat up, and yawned; but perceiving the stars still s.h.i.+ning, he said ill-humouredly: "What fly has stung you? Let me sleep--day is still far off."

"I know that better than you, for I have not lain down."

"Then, you were wrong," the other said, yawning fit to dislocate his jaw; "I am going to sleep, so good night."

And he tried to lie down again, but the young man prevented him. "A pretty time for sleeping," he said as he dragged away the other's zarape; in which he tried in vain to wrap himself.

"Why, you must be mad to annoy me so," he said furiously; "has anything fresh happened?"

Don Pablo told him what he had done; the gambusino listened with the most profound attention, and when he had finished scratched his head with embarra.s.sment as he said, "_Demonios!_ that is serious--excessively serious; all lovers are madmen. You have spoiled our expedition."

"Do you think so?"

"Canelo! I am sure of it; Red Cedar is an old scoundrel, as cunning as an opossum. Now that he is put on his guard, it will take a clever fellow to catch him."

Don Pablo looked at him in consternation.

"What is to be done?" he said.

"Be off, that is the safest; you can understand that the squatter is now on his guard?"