CHAPTER XIVUNMASKEDIt was to Anita’s old room in the house at the rancho that she was carried after the sight of the two murdered overseers had caused her to faint. Señora Vallejo, assisted by one of the troopers, followed, and when Anita had been put on the bed the older woman crouched at the foot of it, still weeping hysterically. The trooper hurried back to the patio.“Get some of the native women, Rojerio Rocha!” theseñoracommanded them, trying to control herself. “Tell them to bring cool water.”She went to Anita’s side as the man left the room, opened the girl’s dress at the throat and began chafing her hands, meanwhile looking toward the door and patting the toe of one shoe on the floor because Rojerio Rocha was so long about his task.Señorita Anita moaned and opened her eyes, and Señora Vallejo, clasping her in strong arms, they wept again together, still terrified by the recollection of what they had seen, a gruesome sight for which they had not been prepared.Then the door was thrown open and Rojerio Rocha stood before them, his sombrero in his hand.“Ah! Señorita Anita is herself again?” he said.“That is well, indeed, for there is not an Indian woman about the place, nor a male servant. They have run away, it seems.”“Run away?” the two women gasped in unison.“Nor is that all. All the Indians employed at the rancho have deserted the buildings and fields and are hurrying toward the cañon near by. ’Tis a well-ordered piece of property I have inherited, it appears.”He laughed and swaggered across the room to a window, to look down into the patio. The women were quick to sense some change in his manner, and again fear gripped their hearts.“Run away?” Señora Vallejo exclaimed again. “What does it mean? There is danger—grave danger? Rojerio Rocha, let us return to the mission immediately. Ah, if you only had listened and had not come!”“Enough of that,señora!” he cried, whirling toward them.“Have you forgotten your gentle blood, that you speak in such a tone to a woman?” Anita demanded, sitting up on the bed.“There are times when a woman must be brought to her senses,señorita. Allow me to handle this affair in my own way. I am going down into the patio now, and do you both remain in this room until I return. At that time I may have better information to give.”He went out without looking at them again, closed the door behind him, and they heard the bolt shot into place. Anita sprang to her feet and ran across the room to try the door before the beating of the man’s steps had ceased to be heard. It was indeed fastened.“I am beginning to hate him!” the girl exclaimed. “It will be difficult, I fear, to do as my father wished. And I—I am beginning to be afraid. The house is so quiet. Señora Vallejo, can you hear Indians shrieking in the distance?”“I have heard them for some time,” theseñorareplied. “We have walked into a trap, I fear.”“Why do the men not start to return to the mission immediately? Señor Lopez and the four soldiers surely can guard us well, and one of them ride ahead for help if we need it.”“It may be possible,” said theseñora, “that the Indians have run away merely because they fear punishment for the killing of their overseers.” But she said it merely to allay the girl’s fears, not because she believed it.There was a clatter of hoofs at the end of the patio, and the two women hurried across to the window in time to see Señor Lopez and the four soldiers dash away. They turned to the right toward the cañon, and the women could watch them no longer; and so they stood before the window and looked down into the patio, awaiting the return, watching Rojerio Rocha as he paced back and forth beside the fountain, now fumbling at the hilt of his sword, now pulling at the pistol in his belt, always with head bent and a scowl on his handsome face.In time he stopped at the end of the patio and shaded his eyes with his hands to look toward the cañon. A chorus of shrieks and cries came from the distance. They heard Rojerio Rocha laugh, and thenhe grasped the reins of his horse, jerked the animal around and vaulted into the saddle to gallop away.Clasped in each other’s arms, silent, fearful, the two women remained standing before the window. An hour passed that seemed like an age. And then they heard the cries and shrieks again, doubled now, seemingly coming nearer—cries and shrieks that the older woman translated as easily as if they had been spoken words. Even the girl seemed to recognise a new note in the bedlam, for she looked up into the older woman’s face wonderingly, questioningly, and she felt Señora Vallejo’s arms tighten about her.“What is it?” she asked.“The blood cry—I know it well.”“And it means——”“It means that the fiends have had blood, that there has been murder done.”“Ah, yes! The overseers.”“I did not mean the overseers,” Señora Vallejo said, turning her face away and looking out of the window.“You mean that Señor Lopez—the soldiers—Señor Rocha——”“Some of them, perhaps all. We shall know soon.”The girl moaned and hid her face against the older woman’s shoulder and tried to shut out the cries by putting fingers in her ears. But she could not shut them out, and in time ceased to try.“They are approaching,” Señora Vallejo said.“Coming here?”“Here or else to the adobe buildings. And we havenot a weapon in the room, nor any man to protect us. The door is locked—we cannot escape and attempt to hide.”“Oh, why did he lock it?” the girl cried.The end of the building shut off the view as they looked from the window. But they knew the horde was approaching, and rapidly, and with the blood shrieks were mingled other cries the meaning of which Señora Vallejo could not understand at first.“They are acclaiming someone,” she said, finally. “Some chief who has performed a murderous assault, I suppose. May the saints curse the man whose treason agitated them!”Then she grasped the girl and drew back from the window quickly, letting the draperies that hung there fall back into place. An Indian had appeared at the end of the patio—a tall, young Indian streaked with war paint and with a musket in his hand. They watched as he glanced around the enclosure, then slipped like a snake past the fountain to the door to listen there. Finally he whirled around and ran to the end of the patio again, to wave his musket and shriek at the others.Then, like a wave breaking on a rocky beach, the horde poured into the patio—dancing, shrieking, screeching—charging across the veranda, splashing through the water of the fountain, tearing at the palms old Señor Fernandez himself had planted and tended until they were grown.And, in their midst, sitting his horse with shoulderssquared, his face devoid of all expression, was the man Señor Fernandez had said his daughter was to marry.“They have brought him here to kill him!” the girl moaned. “And, the others——?”“Dead, else ridden for help,” replied theseñora. “If we had but a poniard——”The horse had stopped beside the fountain. A chief grasped the animal’s mane and was shouting to the maniacs who shrieked around him. They stopped their dancing and their cries died down. Half a dozen men raised hands to take the rider from his horse and carry him toward the door, half a dozen more led the animal from the patio, scores ran toward the adobe buildings, and others gathered in groups in the enclosure to hold animated conversation, now and then screeching their enthusiasm and shaking muskets and bows above their heads.Señora Vallejo drew the girl back from the curtained window, and they stood at the foot of the bed, still clasped in each other’s arms, looking toward the door. They heard steps in the corridor outside—the steps of but one man, it seemed—and they feared a skulking gentile reconnoitering, one who soon would send a shriek ringing through the house to inform the others he had found women there.Silence for an instant, then they heard the bolt withdrawn. Another instant, and the door was thrown open.“Rojerio Rocha!” Señora Vallejo exclaimed.He closed the door behind him, bowed before them, and advanced a step into the room.“You have come to say that there is no hope?” the woman asked.“I have come to say, first of all,señora, and you,señorita, that there is absolutely no danger for either of you, if you are obedient.”“No danger? What mean you, Rojerio Rocha? No danger with that mob of howling savages in war paint, crowding the patio and overrunning the house?”“They are not overrunning the house,señora, pardon me. None are in the house except chiefs and a few servants. Already they have the fires going, and a roast of beef is being prepared. You shall have food soon.”“Are you an imbecile in truth?” theseñoracried. “You trust such wretches? Do you not know that, if they do not slay us at once, they are but playing with us as a cat plays with a mouse before she kills it? Where are your brains, Rojerio Rocha? Is there to be no attempt at rescue? Give us at least a poniard, that we may protect ourselves or take our own lives to save honour! Where is Señor Lopez? Where are the troopers? Have they ridden for help?”She stopped speaking, standing before him with her hands clutching at her breasts—fear-stricken, desperate, but angry above all.“Señor Lopez and the four troopers,” he replied, “rode down into the cañon to make an investigation, disregarding my orders to the contrary. They are dead.”“Dead?” Anita cried.“Dead,señorita.”“But you——? Why have they let you live, Rojerio Rocha? They will torture?”“I already have informed you that no harm shall come to you if you are obedient.”“And, to be obedient——?”“Is to remain in this room,señorita, and you,señora, until you are told you may depart elsewhere. Food will be fetched you regularly; you may have anything you wish. Be not afraid of the Indians in the patio and surrounding the house. They are not a menace—they are here for protection.”“Protection?” sneered theseñora.“Your protection—and yours,señorita—and mine.”“Yours?” the women cried.“What mean you?” theseñorademanded, as an afterthought.“That these Indians call me master. Do you understand? That I am their commanding officer. That the time to drop the mask has come,señora, and you may consider the mask dropped. To-night and to-morrow we prepare; to-morrow night we take the mission and presidio. After that the other things will follow—every rancho and village will be visited.”“You—you——!” Anita gasped.“You will get used to the idea,señorita. Within half a score of days I shall be a king. You did not think to wed the ruler of the coast, did you,señorita? Why did you think I am so anxious to come to the rancho to-day? Because my armies had been gathering here,señorita, and because it was my place here, instead of at the mission. And I desire to get youhere, with theseñora, where you will be out of harm’s way until after we have succeeded. As for Lopez and the troopers—they walked into the trap, and we have five men the less to fight to-morrow night.”He laughed loudly and took another step toward them, and the women recoiled.“You realise—what you are saying?” theseñoragasped.“Fully,señora.”“You—Rojerio Rocha—with the blood of the Rochas and the Fernandez in your veins—you turn renegade, lead hostile Indians, play at treason, countenance murder and rapine? Fear has turned your brain! You could not do such a thing!”“It takes a man with good brain to do it, and travel on the Governor’s pass at the same time,” he returned, laughing again. “Rest assured I speak the truth,señora. It has taken much planning, but soon we see the culmination.”“But—this Captain Fly-by-Night——?”The man’s face darkened.“A meddling fool,” he said, “who shall be sent to eternity if ever I cross blades with him again. A nothing, a novice—this man of whom you speak! Captain Fly-by-Night, eh? The fools sent out alarms concerning him, eh? They chase him and hunt him like a mad bull—while I am guest at the mission, and smile, and send out my plans and orders under the very noses of the frailes. I do not deny this man has had his uses. But I command—not he!”The first horror was over now; full realisation wascoming to the women. Señorita Anita stepped out to the middle of the room and confronted him, and she showed no fear now. Her head was lifted proudly, her breast heaved with emotion, outraged pride and anger struggled in her face for expression.“So it was all a farce?” she cried. “You and this Captain Fly-by-Night were not such deadly enemies as report had it, eh? Partners in treason you were, playing your nefarious game! And the duel down by the creek—how came it he ran you through? Was that a part of the game, too?”“We fought because of an argument concerning Señorita Anita Fernandez, I believe.”“Traitors fell out, and you would say it was over a woman? Say, rather, that you both sought leadership—that there was one general too many! Say, rather, that even before the culmination of your plans you fought regarding the division of the loot—myself being desired by both pretty traitors!”“Say what you please,señorita, so long as you let the fact remain that this man of whom you speak has nothing in common with me. As for yourself—you please me very much, and I shall claim you when this more serious business is at an end.”“Claim me—you? Renegade! Traitor! Take you for husband? Do you suppose my father knew your true character when he made his request? He never had seen you, Rojerio Rocha, but he supposed—because you had Fernandez and Rocha blood in your veins—that you were a gentleman and true. Marry you, Rojerio Rocha? Marry a man the Governorcalls friend, and who plans to stab his friend from behind?”“Marry, or come to me without marriage—as you wish,” the man said. “Your will against me will not be so strong, I think, when things are at an end and I become master.”“Rather would I wed this Fly-by-Night—this gambler and swindler and thief and wronger of women—this man who made immodest boasts concerning me. And before I’d do that, I’d take my own life, Rojerio Rocha! Call in your savage friends and let them torture, and slay me! Never can I hold up my head again, whether your conspiracy is successful or no! That a man of my family and blood should do this thing——! Where is the pride of the Fernandez now? This stain never can be washed away!”“A truce as to your foolish pride! Enough of heroics,señorita, and you,señora! We’ll talk further of these matters at a later day. At present remember that I am master here. You will remain in this room, and food will be fetched. Every comfort you wish will be furnished. And when things are settled again, I take you for wife, Señorita Anita, whether you wish it or not. These Indians will not allow you to escape, yet they will protect you. Had I left you at the mission, you might have been injured by mistake during the fighting. Calm your fears and make the best of things, and try not to change conditions you cannot affect. There is no need for fear—already the gentiles look upon you as their queen.”“Their queen! I, a Fernandez, queen of savages,over a kingdom purchased by treason and steeped in blood? Have I not shame enough with which to contend? Go—go!”She turned half from him, sobbing, hands held to face. Señora Vallejo had collapsed at the foot of the bed. There was silence for the moment, and then the man’s laugh rang out—raucous, sneering, malevolent.“By the saints, you are beautiful when aroused!” he cried. “These heroics will not outlast the day, I vow! If I took you in my arms, perhaps——”She heard his quick step, and turned to confront him. So they stood for a breath, a foot apart and then the man laughed and raised his arms.One of her hands darted forward and then, when she sprang back to avoid him, she gripped the poniard he had worn at his belt. Her arm drove it forward. Her head was half turned away as she felt it strike his breast. She dropped the weapon and covered her face with hands again, waiting for the crash that would tell her his body had fallen to the floor and that she had slain a man.But the crash came not, and in its stead there was a muttered exclamation of surprise, and a chuckle of relief.“Your blow was strong and sure,señorita,” he said. “Fortune favours me in that the point struck on the buckle of my sword-belt. As for the poniard—I intended leaving it with you, that you would feel more secure. I always did fancy a woman of spirit. You will make a right royal queen for such a warrior as myself.”“Go—go!” she cried.“Immediately, though I dislike to leave such good company; yet there is work to be done and the time is short. Within a short time an Indian will come with food, and if there is anything you lack for comfort, you have but to command.”He turned his back deliberately and walked to the door, and she could not nerve herself to pick up the poniard and strike again. She felt herself reeling and knew that reaction soon would be upon her. But she bit her lip cruelly to force herself to gather her scattering senses, and once more she addressed him.“Send no Indian with food. I do not eat what traitors prepare, and neither does myduenna. And when that door is opened again after you are gone—no matter by whom—I plunge this dagger into my own heart, Rojerio Rocha, and so pay in part for the stain you have put upon our family. I swear that I’ll do this—and there will be no belt buckle to turn aside the point!”His face sobered for an instant, for there was no mistaking her determination. He threw open the door and looked back toward her and finally laughed again.“Adios, señorita,” he called. “When hunger makes you forget what you have just said, you may call to someone in the patio and they will carry me word.”He went out and closed the door. The girl heard the bolt shot into place. One moan came from between her lips, and then she collapsed at the foot of the bed beside Señora Vallejo.
It was to Anita’s old room in the house at the rancho that she was carried after the sight of the two murdered overseers had caused her to faint. Señora Vallejo, assisted by one of the troopers, followed, and when Anita had been put on the bed the older woman crouched at the foot of it, still weeping hysterically. The trooper hurried back to the patio.
“Get some of the native women, Rojerio Rocha!” theseñoracommanded them, trying to control herself. “Tell them to bring cool water.”
She went to Anita’s side as the man left the room, opened the girl’s dress at the throat and began chafing her hands, meanwhile looking toward the door and patting the toe of one shoe on the floor because Rojerio Rocha was so long about his task.
Señorita Anita moaned and opened her eyes, and Señora Vallejo, clasping her in strong arms, they wept again together, still terrified by the recollection of what they had seen, a gruesome sight for which they had not been prepared.
Then the door was thrown open and Rojerio Rocha stood before them, his sombrero in his hand.
“Ah! Señorita Anita is herself again?” he said.“That is well, indeed, for there is not an Indian woman about the place, nor a male servant. They have run away, it seems.”
“Run away?” the two women gasped in unison.
“Nor is that all. All the Indians employed at the rancho have deserted the buildings and fields and are hurrying toward the cañon near by. ’Tis a well-ordered piece of property I have inherited, it appears.”
He laughed and swaggered across the room to a window, to look down into the patio. The women were quick to sense some change in his manner, and again fear gripped their hearts.
“Run away?” Señora Vallejo exclaimed again. “What does it mean? There is danger—grave danger? Rojerio Rocha, let us return to the mission immediately. Ah, if you only had listened and had not come!”
“Enough of that,señora!” he cried, whirling toward them.
“Have you forgotten your gentle blood, that you speak in such a tone to a woman?” Anita demanded, sitting up on the bed.
“There are times when a woman must be brought to her senses,señorita. Allow me to handle this affair in my own way. I am going down into the patio now, and do you both remain in this room until I return. At that time I may have better information to give.”
He went out without looking at them again, closed the door behind him, and they heard the bolt shot into place. Anita sprang to her feet and ran across the room to try the door before the beating of the man’s steps had ceased to be heard. It was indeed fastened.
“I am beginning to hate him!” the girl exclaimed. “It will be difficult, I fear, to do as my father wished. And I—I am beginning to be afraid. The house is so quiet. Señora Vallejo, can you hear Indians shrieking in the distance?”
“I have heard them for some time,” theseñorareplied. “We have walked into a trap, I fear.”
“Why do the men not start to return to the mission immediately? Señor Lopez and the four soldiers surely can guard us well, and one of them ride ahead for help if we need it.”
“It may be possible,” said theseñora, “that the Indians have run away merely because they fear punishment for the killing of their overseers.” But she said it merely to allay the girl’s fears, not because she believed it.
There was a clatter of hoofs at the end of the patio, and the two women hurried across to the window in time to see Señor Lopez and the four soldiers dash away. They turned to the right toward the cañon, and the women could watch them no longer; and so they stood before the window and looked down into the patio, awaiting the return, watching Rojerio Rocha as he paced back and forth beside the fountain, now fumbling at the hilt of his sword, now pulling at the pistol in his belt, always with head bent and a scowl on his handsome face.
In time he stopped at the end of the patio and shaded his eyes with his hands to look toward the cañon. A chorus of shrieks and cries came from the distance. They heard Rojerio Rocha laugh, and thenhe grasped the reins of his horse, jerked the animal around and vaulted into the saddle to gallop away.
Clasped in each other’s arms, silent, fearful, the two women remained standing before the window. An hour passed that seemed like an age. And then they heard the cries and shrieks again, doubled now, seemingly coming nearer—cries and shrieks that the older woman translated as easily as if they had been spoken words. Even the girl seemed to recognise a new note in the bedlam, for she looked up into the older woman’s face wonderingly, questioningly, and she felt Señora Vallejo’s arms tighten about her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The blood cry—I know it well.”
“And it means——”
“It means that the fiends have had blood, that there has been murder done.”
“Ah, yes! The overseers.”
“I did not mean the overseers,” Señora Vallejo said, turning her face away and looking out of the window.
“You mean that Señor Lopez—the soldiers—Señor Rocha——”
“Some of them, perhaps all. We shall know soon.”
The girl moaned and hid her face against the older woman’s shoulder and tried to shut out the cries by putting fingers in her ears. But she could not shut them out, and in time ceased to try.
“They are approaching,” Señora Vallejo said.
“Coming here?”
“Here or else to the adobe buildings. And we havenot a weapon in the room, nor any man to protect us. The door is locked—we cannot escape and attempt to hide.”
“Oh, why did he lock it?” the girl cried.
The end of the building shut off the view as they looked from the window. But they knew the horde was approaching, and rapidly, and with the blood shrieks were mingled other cries the meaning of which Señora Vallejo could not understand at first.
“They are acclaiming someone,” she said, finally. “Some chief who has performed a murderous assault, I suppose. May the saints curse the man whose treason agitated them!”
Then she grasped the girl and drew back from the window quickly, letting the draperies that hung there fall back into place. An Indian had appeared at the end of the patio—a tall, young Indian streaked with war paint and with a musket in his hand. They watched as he glanced around the enclosure, then slipped like a snake past the fountain to the door to listen there. Finally he whirled around and ran to the end of the patio again, to wave his musket and shriek at the others.
Then, like a wave breaking on a rocky beach, the horde poured into the patio—dancing, shrieking, screeching—charging across the veranda, splashing through the water of the fountain, tearing at the palms old Señor Fernandez himself had planted and tended until they were grown.
And, in their midst, sitting his horse with shoulderssquared, his face devoid of all expression, was the man Señor Fernandez had said his daughter was to marry.
“They have brought him here to kill him!” the girl moaned. “And, the others——?”
“Dead, else ridden for help,” replied theseñora. “If we had but a poniard——”
The horse had stopped beside the fountain. A chief grasped the animal’s mane and was shouting to the maniacs who shrieked around him. They stopped their dancing and their cries died down. Half a dozen men raised hands to take the rider from his horse and carry him toward the door, half a dozen more led the animal from the patio, scores ran toward the adobe buildings, and others gathered in groups in the enclosure to hold animated conversation, now and then screeching their enthusiasm and shaking muskets and bows above their heads.
Señora Vallejo drew the girl back from the curtained window, and they stood at the foot of the bed, still clasped in each other’s arms, looking toward the door. They heard steps in the corridor outside—the steps of but one man, it seemed—and they feared a skulking gentile reconnoitering, one who soon would send a shriek ringing through the house to inform the others he had found women there.
Silence for an instant, then they heard the bolt withdrawn. Another instant, and the door was thrown open.
“Rojerio Rocha!” Señora Vallejo exclaimed.
He closed the door behind him, bowed before them, and advanced a step into the room.
“You have come to say that there is no hope?” the woman asked.
“I have come to say, first of all,señora, and you,señorita, that there is absolutely no danger for either of you, if you are obedient.”
“No danger? What mean you, Rojerio Rocha? No danger with that mob of howling savages in war paint, crowding the patio and overrunning the house?”
“They are not overrunning the house,señora, pardon me. None are in the house except chiefs and a few servants. Already they have the fires going, and a roast of beef is being prepared. You shall have food soon.”
“Are you an imbecile in truth?” theseñoracried. “You trust such wretches? Do you not know that, if they do not slay us at once, they are but playing with us as a cat plays with a mouse before she kills it? Where are your brains, Rojerio Rocha? Is there to be no attempt at rescue? Give us at least a poniard, that we may protect ourselves or take our own lives to save honour! Where is Señor Lopez? Where are the troopers? Have they ridden for help?”
She stopped speaking, standing before him with her hands clutching at her breasts—fear-stricken, desperate, but angry above all.
“Señor Lopez and the four troopers,” he replied, “rode down into the cañon to make an investigation, disregarding my orders to the contrary. They are dead.”
“Dead?” Anita cried.
“Dead,señorita.”
“But you——? Why have they let you live, Rojerio Rocha? They will torture?”
“I already have informed you that no harm shall come to you if you are obedient.”
“And, to be obedient——?”
“Is to remain in this room,señorita, and you,señora, until you are told you may depart elsewhere. Food will be fetched you regularly; you may have anything you wish. Be not afraid of the Indians in the patio and surrounding the house. They are not a menace—they are here for protection.”
“Protection?” sneered theseñora.
“Your protection—and yours,señorita—and mine.”
“Yours?” the women cried.
“What mean you?” theseñorademanded, as an afterthought.
“That these Indians call me master. Do you understand? That I am their commanding officer. That the time to drop the mask has come,señora, and you may consider the mask dropped. To-night and to-morrow we prepare; to-morrow night we take the mission and presidio. After that the other things will follow—every rancho and village will be visited.”
“You—you——!” Anita gasped.
“You will get used to the idea,señorita. Within half a score of days I shall be a king. You did not think to wed the ruler of the coast, did you,señorita? Why did you think I am so anxious to come to the rancho to-day? Because my armies had been gathering here,señorita, and because it was my place here, instead of at the mission. And I desire to get youhere, with theseñora, where you will be out of harm’s way until after we have succeeded. As for Lopez and the troopers—they walked into the trap, and we have five men the less to fight to-morrow night.”
He laughed loudly and took another step toward them, and the women recoiled.
“You realise—what you are saying?” theseñoragasped.
“Fully,señora.”
“You—Rojerio Rocha—with the blood of the Rochas and the Fernandez in your veins—you turn renegade, lead hostile Indians, play at treason, countenance murder and rapine? Fear has turned your brain! You could not do such a thing!”
“It takes a man with good brain to do it, and travel on the Governor’s pass at the same time,” he returned, laughing again. “Rest assured I speak the truth,señora. It has taken much planning, but soon we see the culmination.”
“But—this Captain Fly-by-Night——?”
The man’s face darkened.
“A meddling fool,” he said, “who shall be sent to eternity if ever I cross blades with him again. A nothing, a novice—this man of whom you speak! Captain Fly-by-Night, eh? The fools sent out alarms concerning him, eh? They chase him and hunt him like a mad bull—while I am guest at the mission, and smile, and send out my plans and orders under the very noses of the frailes. I do not deny this man has had his uses. But I command—not he!”
The first horror was over now; full realisation wascoming to the women. Señorita Anita stepped out to the middle of the room and confronted him, and she showed no fear now. Her head was lifted proudly, her breast heaved with emotion, outraged pride and anger struggled in her face for expression.
“So it was all a farce?” she cried. “You and this Captain Fly-by-Night were not such deadly enemies as report had it, eh? Partners in treason you were, playing your nefarious game! And the duel down by the creek—how came it he ran you through? Was that a part of the game, too?”
“We fought because of an argument concerning Señorita Anita Fernandez, I believe.”
“Traitors fell out, and you would say it was over a woman? Say, rather, that you both sought leadership—that there was one general too many! Say, rather, that even before the culmination of your plans you fought regarding the division of the loot—myself being desired by both pretty traitors!”
“Say what you please,señorita, so long as you let the fact remain that this man of whom you speak has nothing in common with me. As for yourself—you please me very much, and I shall claim you when this more serious business is at an end.”
“Claim me—you? Renegade! Traitor! Take you for husband? Do you suppose my father knew your true character when he made his request? He never had seen you, Rojerio Rocha, but he supposed—because you had Fernandez and Rocha blood in your veins—that you were a gentleman and true. Marry you, Rojerio Rocha? Marry a man the Governorcalls friend, and who plans to stab his friend from behind?”
“Marry, or come to me without marriage—as you wish,” the man said. “Your will against me will not be so strong, I think, when things are at an end and I become master.”
“Rather would I wed this Fly-by-Night—this gambler and swindler and thief and wronger of women—this man who made immodest boasts concerning me. And before I’d do that, I’d take my own life, Rojerio Rocha! Call in your savage friends and let them torture, and slay me! Never can I hold up my head again, whether your conspiracy is successful or no! That a man of my family and blood should do this thing——! Where is the pride of the Fernandez now? This stain never can be washed away!”
“A truce as to your foolish pride! Enough of heroics,señorita, and you,señora! We’ll talk further of these matters at a later day. At present remember that I am master here. You will remain in this room, and food will be fetched. Every comfort you wish will be furnished. And when things are settled again, I take you for wife, Señorita Anita, whether you wish it or not. These Indians will not allow you to escape, yet they will protect you. Had I left you at the mission, you might have been injured by mistake during the fighting. Calm your fears and make the best of things, and try not to change conditions you cannot affect. There is no need for fear—already the gentiles look upon you as their queen.”
“Their queen! I, a Fernandez, queen of savages,over a kingdom purchased by treason and steeped in blood? Have I not shame enough with which to contend? Go—go!”
She turned half from him, sobbing, hands held to face. Señora Vallejo had collapsed at the foot of the bed. There was silence for the moment, and then the man’s laugh rang out—raucous, sneering, malevolent.
“By the saints, you are beautiful when aroused!” he cried. “These heroics will not outlast the day, I vow! If I took you in my arms, perhaps——”
She heard his quick step, and turned to confront him. So they stood for a breath, a foot apart and then the man laughed and raised his arms.
One of her hands darted forward and then, when she sprang back to avoid him, she gripped the poniard he had worn at his belt. Her arm drove it forward. Her head was half turned away as she felt it strike his breast. She dropped the weapon and covered her face with hands again, waiting for the crash that would tell her his body had fallen to the floor and that she had slain a man.
But the crash came not, and in its stead there was a muttered exclamation of surprise, and a chuckle of relief.
“Your blow was strong and sure,señorita,” he said. “Fortune favours me in that the point struck on the buckle of my sword-belt. As for the poniard—I intended leaving it with you, that you would feel more secure. I always did fancy a woman of spirit. You will make a right royal queen for such a warrior as myself.”
“Go—go!” she cried.
“Immediately, though I dislike to leave such good company; yet there is work to be done and the time is short. Within a short time an Indian will come with food, and if there is anything you lack for comfort, you have but to command.”
He turned his back deliberately and walked to the door, and she could not nerve herself to pick up the poniard and strike again. She felt herself reeling and knew that reaction soon would be upon her. But she bit her lip cruelly to force herself to gather her scattering senses, and once more she addressed him.
“Send no Indian with food. I do not eat what traitors prepare, and neither does myduenna. And when that door is opened again after you are gone—no matter by whom—I plunge this dagger into my own heart, Rojerio Rocha, and so pay in part for the stain you have put upon our family. I swear that I’ll do this—and there will be no belt buckle to turn aside the point!”
His face sobered for an instant, for there was no mistaking her determination. He threw open the door and looked back toward her and finally laughed again.
“Adios, señorita,” he called. “When hunger makes you forget what you have just said, you may call to someone in the patio and they will carry me word.”
He went out and closed the door. The girl heard the bolt shot into place. One moan came from between her lips, and then she collapsed at the foot of the bed beside Señora Vallejo.