"Natan, did you saddle Buster just now?"

"But yes," answered the lad, greatly relieved.

"Where is he? And Nimrod?"

"Nimrod is at the 'house' horse block, is it not? Si. Groomed to the highest, and a beauty we're all glad to see back where he belongs."

"Your opinion wasn't asked. Where is Buster?"

"Where the captain wills. I know not, I," with a shrug of his lean shoulders.

"Did she mount him?"

"Why else should he be saddled, no?" returned the groom, with an insolent laugh.

John's temper flamed and he turned away with a disgusted snort, meaning to seek information elsewhere on a case he felt permitted no delay. But Ninian was cooler, if equally suspicious that Natan was concealing something that should be known; so, laying his hand not unkindly upon the youth's shoulder, he said:

"If you know anything of this, where Miss Jessica has gone and with whom, or if alone, it will be worth your while to tell me and at once.

I'm pretty good pay for seasonable articles," he finished, in his journalistic manner.

He had taken a dollar from his pocket and was carelessly tossing it from hand to hand, nor was he disappointed when Natan fixed his black eyes greedily upon the coin. Still the lad said nothing, only pondered in his own dull mind which of two masters it would benefit him most to serve; and annoyed by this hesitation, Ninian hazarded a guess:

"Oh, well, if you prefer to work for Antonio Bernal, it's all one to me."

Natan's mouth flew open and his eyes grew wild:

"You know it, then, already, you?"

"I know many things," was the sententious answer.

"But it is a pity, yes. The so fine man and such a rider. He will ride no more, poor Antonio, si."

Ninian's blood ran chill, yet he asked, still quietly, though foreseeing evil he dared not contemplate:

"Who brought the word?"

"Ferd, the dwarf," came the reply, as the dollar exchanged owners.

CHAPTER XIX.

ANTONIO'S CONFESSION

These were the facts: Natan had been grooming the horses, Nimrod and Buster, when suddenly and soundlessly there appeared before the window in the stables' rear, the misshapen head and shoulders of typo Ferdinand Bernal. He was mounted on a snow-white horse and seemed to the superst.i.tious stable boy to have risen out of the ground. Buster, also, had appeared to be frightened for a few seconds, though he speedily recovered his equine calmness and merely whinnied his delight, while he attempted to secure another mouthful of alfalfa before the bridle slipped into place over his head.

"Natan, the little captain," whispered Ferd, through the narrow cas.e.m.e.nt.

"Well, yes; the little captain," returned the other, in a louder tone, and grinning at his own astuteness in discovering that this was a white horse so very like the "spook horse" that it might be one and the same. Some of Antonio's schemes he had fathomed, being himself a sort of schemer in his own stupid way.

"I want her. She must come. Antonio dies."

"Antonio--fiddles!" retorted the other, contemptuously. Then saw, to his surprise, that Ferd's head had dropped upon that of his strange steed and that he was whimpering and sobbing in a pitiful fashion, well calculated to deceive the unwary. It was at this juncture that, fancying to see her beloved Buster made ready for her ride, Jessica ran singing into the stable, and paused amazed at sight of Ferd, weeping, and so oddly mounted. Horses there were galore in the Sobrante stables and pastures, but never one like this; so white, so spirited, and yet so marvelously marked. For even by the daylight, there in the slight shadow of the wall, the animal's eyes glowed with an unearthly light, terrifying to Natan and startling even to her fearless self. Indeed it had not been until the moment of her appearance and Buster's whinnied welcome, that Ferd's horse had turned its face toward them and revealed his curious visage.

"Why, Ferdinand Bernal!" she cried, giving him his full t.i.tle, and thereby mystifying still further the wondering groom. "I do believe that's the very creature that's been scaring such a lot of people everywhere! How came you by it and what ails its eyes?"

Ferd lifted a face that was grimy with dirt and streaked with tears.

His misery was evident and needed no words to impress it upon the tenderhearted girl, who ran to the window, begging:

"What is the matter, Ferd? Poor Ferd! are you ill? In trouble? What?"

"The death. It is the accursed house. Where death comes once--he is always there. He told me--you must come. Come; now, right away, si.

Before--too late. He said it. Antonio, my brother."

"You know that, then--about your relationship? But what has happened to him?"

The dwarf glanced at Natan and motioned to her to send him away. For reasons of his own, the groom was glad enough to obey, because dire had been the threats of the mighty-fisted Samson, as well as the stern John Benton, against any on that ranch who should be caught "consorting with that low-lived Ferd or the late manager." Besides, in spite of Jessica's apparent indifference to the glowing eyes of the white horse they infected him with a horrible fear; so he made his escape at the first chance; leading Nimrod around to the house and tying him there to await Ninian's pleasure, while he himself resorted to the most distant and safest spot he could find. This had seemed, in his mind, the mission corridor; but he found it already occupied by a party of the ranchmen who had no desire for his society, and after a short delay frankly told him so. It was in pa.s.sing from this ancient structure to his own room in another building that he had been intercepted by John, and called to account.

Yet, sometime before this, Jessica had finished her interview with the unhappy Ferd; had written her note of explanation to Ninian, though keeping her destination secret, as the hunchback implored, in accordance with Antonio's wish; had dispatched her message by Ned and Luis; and, unknown to them, had rapidly ridden away in company with the white horse and her treacherous guide--to comfort the dying.

That death should have come again to the cabin on the mesa, whither she was led, seemed natural enough to her; remembering with such keen sorrow the pa.s.sing of old Pedro.

And for once Antonio Bernal had told the truth. Lying helpless, almost motionless, on the narrow bed in the shepherd's home, he greeted his visitor with a pitiful smile on his white face, and a tone from which the last vestige of his old bravado had departed: "The Captain! si.

You did well to come, my Lady Jess. But you are not afraid?"

"Why should I be afraid, Antonio? You are ill, I see that. What's wrong? What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing. There is nothing. I played my game and I lost. I--I saw you last night at the window."

"And I saw you; I knew you; but I did not know why you were fixed like that and had painted your poor horse all white."

"Ha! You saw that? You, when n.o.body--older--well, I lost."

"Are you hurt? What can have happened to you since then?"

"Shot. On the way here, fearing nothing, a pa.s.sing horseman, unknown, braver or quicker than the rest, thought he could rid the country of its ghost. Ah, yes! it was merry--for a time. It is past."

Jessica was crying softly, unable to endure the sight of agony, even his who had tried to injure her and hers. The sick man perceived this and something of the affection he had once felt for his master's child, before he had betrayed that master's trust, stirred him to speak and thrilled him with compunction. He felt himself to be doomed; he had already sent Ferd away again to summon a priest; and according to his faith he meant to make his peace with the world; but these preparations had been on his own account only. Now he began to feel something for her also.

Suddenly she ceased crying and stood up to bend over him and beg that she might be allowed to help him. "A drink of water--some coffee? You were always so fond of coffee, Antonio, and I know where Pedro kept all his things. So many, many times we drank it here together, he and I. And you--how came you here, Antonio?"

"Where better or nearer could I be? Pedro, the most obliging, yes.

Just when I needed his house he left it. Si. Why, but I am better still, is it not, I?"

Indeed his color had improved and his voice grown stronger since Jessica's arrival; and he was able to take the cup of coffee which she made him. This was more palatable than anything Ferd had prepared and stimulated him still further. For a few moments after he had taken it he felt so improved that he almost gave up the doing of that for which he had summoned her. But a sudden return of pain again alarmed him, and as soon as that spasm was past, he motioned her to the bedside.