If expecting some one to appear that way, she was not disappointed. A horse was just stepping out from among the trees, where the road debouched from the chapparal. He was ridden by one, who, at first sight, appeared to be a man, clad in a sort of Arab costume; but who, on closer scrutiny, and despite the style of equitation--_a la d.u.c.h.esse de Berri_--was unquestionably of the other s.e.x--a lady. There was not much of her face to be seen; but through the shadowy opening of the _rebozo_--rather carelessly _tapado_--could be traced an oval facial outline, somewhat brownly "complected," But with a carmine tinting upon the cheeks, and above this a pair of eyes whose sparkle appeared to challenge comparison with the brightest object either on the earth, or in the sky.

Neither did the loosely falling folds of the lady's scarf, nor her somewhat _outre_ att.i.tude in the saddle, hinder the observer from coming to the conclusion, that her figure was quite as attractive as her face.

The man following upon the mule, six lengths of his animal in the rear, by his costume--as well as the respectful distance observed--was evidently only an attendant.

"Who can that woman be?" was the muttered interrogatory of Louise Poindexter, as with quick action she raised the lorgnette to her eyes, and directed it upon the oddly apparelled figure. "Who _can_ she be?"

was repeated in a tone of greater deliberation, as the gla.s.s came down, and the naked eye was entrusted to complete the scrutiny. "A Mexican, of course; the man on the mule her servant. Some grand senora, I suppose? I thought they had all gone to the other side of the Rio Grande. A basket carried by the attendant. I wonder what it contains; and what errand she can have to the Port--it may be the village. 'Tis the third time I've seen her pa.s.sing within this week? She must be from some of the plantations below!"

What an outlandish style of riding! _Par Dieu_! I'm told it's not uncommon among the daughters of Anahuac. What if I were to take to it myself? No doubt it's much the easiest way; though if such a spectacle were seen in the States it would be styled unfeminine. How our Puritan mammas would scream out against it! I think I hear them. Ha, ha, ha!

The mirth thus begotten was but of momentary duration. There came a change over the countenance of the Creole, quick as a drifting cloud darkens the disc of the sun. It was not a return to that melancholy so late shadowing it; though something equally serious--as might be told by the sudden blanching of her cheeks.

The cause could only be looked for in the movements of the scarfed equestrian on the other side of the river. An antelope had sprung up, out of some low shrubbery growing by the roadside. The creature appeared to have made its first bound from under the counter of the horse--a splendid animal, that, in a moment after, was going at full gallop in pursuit of the affrighted "p.r.o.nghorn;" while his rider, with her rebozo suddenly flung from her face, its fringed ends streaming behind her back, was seen describing, with her right arm, a series of circular sweeps in the air!

"What is the woman going to do?" was the muttered interrogatory of the spectator upon the house-top. "Ha! As I live, 'tis a lazo!"

The senora was not long in giving proof of skill in the use of the national implement:--by flinging its noose around the antelope's neck, and throwing the creature in its tracks!

The attendant rode up to the place where it lay struggling; dismounted from his mule; and, stooping over the prostrate p.r.o.nghorn, appeared to administer the _coup de grace_. Then, flinging the carca.s.s over the croup of his saddle, he climbed back upon his mule, and spurred after his mistress--who had already recovered her lazo, readjusted her scarf, and was riding onward, as if nothing had occurred worth waiting for!

It was at that moment--when the noose was seen circling in the air--that the shadow had reappeared upon the countenance or the Creole. It was not surprise that caused it, but an emotion of a different character--a thought far more unpleasant.

Nor did it pa.s.s speedily away. It was still there--though a white hand holding the lorgnette to her eye might have hindered it from being seen--still there, as long as the mounted figures were visible upon the open road; and even after they had pa.s.sed out of sight behind the screening of the acacias.

"I wonder--oh, I wonder if it be she! My own age, he said--not quite so tall. The description suits--so far as one may judge at this distance.

Has her home on the Rio Grande. Comes occasionally to the Leona, to visit some relatives. Who are they? Why did I not ask him the name?

_I wonder--oh, I wonder if it be she_!"

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A GIFT UNGIVEN.

For some minutes after the lady of the lazo and her attendant had pa.s.sed out of sight, Louise Poindexter pursued the train of reflection--started by the somewhat singular episode of which she had been spectator. Her att.i.tude, and air, of continued dejection told that her thoughts had not been directed into a more cheerful channel.

Rather the reverse. Once or twice before had her mind given way to imaginings, connected with that accomplished _equestrienne_; and more than once had she speculated upon her purpose in riding up the road.

The incident just witnessed had suddenly changed her conjectures into suspicions of an exceedingly unpleasant nature.

It was a relief to her, when a horseman appeared coming out of the chapparal, at the point where the others had ridden in; a still greater relief, when he was seen to swerve into the cross path that conducted to the hacienda, and was recognised, through the lorgnette, as Zeb Stump the hunter.

The face of the Creole became bright again--almost to gaiety. There was something ominous of good in the opportune appearance of the honest backwoodsman.

"The man I was wanting to see!" she exclaimed in joyous accents. "_He_ can bear me a message; and perhaps tell who _she_ is. He must have met her on the road. That will enable me to introduce the subject, without Zeb having any suspicion of my object. Even with him I must be circ.u.mspect--after what has happened. Ah, me! Not much should I care, if I were sure of _his_ caring for me. How provoking his indifference!

And to me--Louise Poindexter! _Par dieu_! Let it proceed much further, and I shall try to escape from the toils if--if--I should crush my poor heart in the attempt!"

It need scarce be said that the individual, whose esteem was so coveted, was not Zeb Stump.

Her next speech, however, was addressed to Zeb, as he reined up in front of the hacienda.

"Dear Mr Stump!" hailed a voice, to which the old hunter delighted to listen. "I'm so glad to see you. Dismount, and come up here! I know you're a famous climber, and won't mind a flight of stone stairs.

There's a view from this housetop that will reward you for your trouble."

"Thur's suthin' on the house-top theear," rejoined the hunter, "the view o' which 'ud reward Zeb Stump for climbin' to the top o' a steamboat chimbly; 'an thet's yurself, Miss Lewaze. I'll k.u.m up, soon as I ha'

stabled the ole maar, which shall be dud in the shakin' o' a goat's tail. Gee-up, ole gal!" he continued, addressing himself to the mare, after he had dismounted, "Hold up yur head, an may be Plute hyur 'll gie ye a wheen o' corn shucks for yur breakfist."

"Ho--ho! Ma.s.s 'Tump," interposed the sable coachman, making his appearance in the _patio_. "Dat same do dis n.i.g.g.a--gub um de shucks wi'

de yaller corn inside ob dem. Ho--ho! You gwup 'tairs to de young missa; an Plute he no 'gleck yar ole mar."

"Yur a dod-rotted good sample o' a n.i.g.g.e.r, Plute; an the nix occashun I shows about hyur, I'll fetch you a 'possum--wi' the meat on it as tender as a two-year old chicken. Thet's what I'm boun' ter do."

After delivering himself of this promise, Zeb commenced ascending the stone stairway; not by single steps, but by two, and sometimes three, at a stride.

He was soon upon the housetop; where he was once more welcomed by the young mistress of the mansion.

Her excited manner, and the eagerness with which she conducted him to a remote part of the azotea, told the astute hunter, that he had been summoned thither for some other purpose than enjoying the prospect.

"Tell me, Mr Stump!" said she, as she clutched the sleeve of the blanket coat in her delicate fingers, and looked inquiringly into Zeb's grey eye--"You must know all. How is he? Are his wounds of a dangerous nature?"

"If you refar to Mister Cal-hoon--"

"No--no--no. I know all about him. It's not of Mr Calhoun I'm speaking."

"Wall, Miss Lewa.s.se; thur air only one other as I know of in these parts thet hev got wownds; an thet air's Maurice the mowstanger. Mout it be thet ere individooal yur inquirin' abeout?"

"It is--it is! You know I cannot be indifferent to his welfare, notwithstanding the misfortune of his having quarrelled with my cousin.

You are aware that he rescued me--twice I may say--from imminent peril.

Tell me--is he in great danger?"

Such earnestness could no longer be trifled with. Zeb without further parley, made reply:--

"Ne'er a morsel o' danger. Thur's a bullet-hole jest above the ankle-jeint. It don't signerfy more'n the scratch o' a kitting. Thur's another hev goed through the flesh o' the young fellur's left arm. It don't signerfy neyther--only thet it drawed a good sup o' the red out o'

him. Howsomdever, he's all right now; an expecks to be out o' doors in a kupple o' days, or tharabout. He sez that an hour in the seddle, an a skoot acrosst the purayra, 'ud do him more good than all the docters in Texas. I reckon it wud; but the docter--it's the surgint o' the Fort as attends on him--he won't let him git to gra.s.s yit a bit."

"Where is he?"

"He air stayin' at the hotel--whar the skrimmage tuk place."

"Perhaps he is not well waited upon? It's a rough place, I've heard.

He may not have any delicacies--such as an invalid stands in need of?

Stay here, Mr Stump, till I come up to you again. I have something I wish to send to him. I know I can trust you to deliver it. Won't you?

I'm sure you will. I shall be with you in six seconds."

Without waiting to note the effect of her speech, the young lady tripped lightly along the pa.s.sage, and as lightly descended the stone stairway.

Presently she reappeared--bringing with her a good-sized hamper; which was evidently filled with eatables, with something to send them down.

"Now dear old Zeb, you will take this to Mr Gerald? It's only some little things that Florinda has put up; some cordials and jellies and the like, such as sick people at times have a craving for. They are not likely to be kept in the hotel. Don't tell _him_ where they come from--_neither him, nor any one else_. You won't? I know you won't, you dear good giant."