myself; none were needed. Each read in the other a rival – a rival in love, a competitor for the heart of a lovely woman, the loveliest in Mexico! It is needless to say that, under such an aspect, each hated the other at sight.
In the face of Ijurra I read more. I saw before me a man of bad heart and brutal nature. His large, and to speak the truth, beautiful eyes, had in them an animal expression. They were not without intelligence, but so much the worse, for that intelligence expressed ferocity and bad faith. His beauty was the beauty of the jaguar. He had the air of an accomplished man, accustomed to conquest in the field of love – heartless, reckless, false. O mystery of our nature, there are those who love such men!
In Ijurra’s face I read more: he knew my secret! The significant glance of his eye told me so. He knew why I was lingering there. The satiric smile upon his lip attested it. He saw my efforts to obtain an interview, and confident in his own position, held my failure but lightly – a something only to amuse him. I could tell all this by the sardonic sneer that sat upon his features.
As we continued to gaze, neither moving his eyes from the other, this sneer became too oppressive to be silently borne. I could no longer stand such a satirical reading of my thoughts. The insult was as marked as words could have made it; and I was about to have recourse to words to reply, when the clatter of a horse’s hoofs caused me to turn my eyes in an opposite direction. A horseman was coming up the hill, in a direct line from the pastures. I saw it was one of the lieutenants – Holingsworth.
A few more stretches of his horse brought the lieutenant upon the ground, where he pulled up directly in front of me.
“Captain Warfield!” said he, speaking in an official tone, “the cattle are collected; shall we proceed – ”
He proceeded no further with that sentence; his eye, chance directed, was carried up to the azotea, and rested upon the face of Ijurra. He started in his saddle, as if a serpent had stung him; his hollow eyes shot prominently out, glaring wildly from their sockets, while the muscles of his throat and jaws twitched in convulsive action!
For a moment, the desperate passion seemed to stifle his breathing, and while thus silent, the expression of his eyes puzzled me. It was of frantic joy, and ill became that face where I had never observed a smile. But the strange look was soon explained – it was not of friendship, but the joy of anticipated vengeance!
Breaking into a wild laugh, he shrieked out —
“Rafael Ijurra, by the eternal God!”
This awful and emphatic recognition produced its effect. I saw that Ijurra knew the man who addressed him. His dark countenance turned suddenly pale, and then became mottled with livid spots, while his eyes scintillated, and rolled about in the unsteady glances of terror. He made no reply beyond the ejaculation “Demonio!” which seemed involuntarily to escape him. He appeared unable to reply; surprise and fright held him spell-bound and speechless!
“Traitor! villain! murderer!” shrieked Holingsworth, “we’ve met at last; now for a squaring of our accounts!” and in the next instant the muzzle of his rifle was pointing to the notch in the parapet – pointing to the face of Ijurra!
“Hold, Holingsworth! – hold!” cried I, pressing my heel deeply into my horse’s flanks, and dashing forward.
Though my steed sprang instantly to the spur, and as quickly I caught the lieutenant’s arm, I was too late to arrest the shot. I spoiled his aim, however; and the bullet, instead of passing through the brain of Rafael Ijurra, as it would certainly have done, glanced upon the mortar of the parapet, sending a cloud of lime-dust into his face.
Up to that moment the Mexican had made no attempt to escape beyond the aim of his antagonist. Terror must have glued him to the spot. It was only when the report of the rifle, and the blinding mortar broke the spell, that he was able to turn and fly. When the dust cleared away, his head was no longer above the wall.
I turned to my companion, and addressed him in some warmth —
“Lieutenant Holingsworth! I command – ”
“Captain Warfield,” interrupted he, in a tone of cool determination, “you may command me in all matters of duty, and I shall obey you. This is a private affair; and, by the Eternal, the General himself – Bah! I lose time; the villain will escape!” and before I could seize either himself or his bridle-rein, Holingsworth had shot his horse past me, and entered the gateway at a gallop.
I followed as quickly as I could, and reached the patio almost as soon as he; but too late to hinder him from his purpose.
I grasped him by the arm, but with determined strength he wrenched himself free – at the same instant gliding out of the saddle.
Pistol in hand, he rushed up the escalera, his trailing scabbard clanking upon the stone steps as he went. He was soon out of my sight, behind the parapet of the azotea.
Flinging myself from the saddle, I followed as fast as my legs would carry me.
While on the stairway, I heard loud words and oaths above, the crash of falling objects, and then two shots following quick and fast upon each other. I heard screaming in a woman’s voice, and then a groan – the last uttered by a man.
One of them is dead or dying, thought I.
On reaching the azotea – which I did in a few seconds of time – I found perfect silence there. I saw no one, male or female, living or dead! True, the place was like a garden, with plants, shrubs, and even trees growing in gigantic pots. I could not view it all at once. They might still be there behind the screen of leaves?
I ran to and fro over the whole roof; I saw flower-pots freshly broken. It was the crash of them I had heard while coming up. I saw no man, neither Holingsworth nor Ijurra! They could not be standing up, or I should have seen them. “Perhaps they are down among the pots – both. There were two shots. Perhaps both are down – dead.”
But where was she who screamed? Was it Isolina?
Half distracted, I rushed to another part of the roof. I saw a small escalera – a private stair – that led into the interior of the house. Ha! they must have gone down by it? she who screamed must have gone that way?
For a moment I hesitated to follow; but it was no time to stand upon etiquette; and I was preparing to plunge down the stairway, when I heard shouting outside the walls, and then another shot from a pistol.
I turned, and stepped hastily across the azotea in the direction of the sounds. I looked over the parapet. Down the slope of the hill two men were running at the top of their speed, one after the other. The hindmost held in his hand a drawn sabre. It was Holingsworth still in pursuit of Ijurra!
The latter appeared to be gaining upon his vengeful pursuer, who, burdened with his accoutrements, ran heavily. The Mexican was evidently making for the woods that grew at the bottom of the hill; and in a few seconds more he had entered the timber, and passed out of sight. Like a hound upon the trail, Holingsworth followed, and disappeared from my view at the same spot.
Hoping I might still be able to prevent the shedding of blood, I descended hastily from the azotea, mounted my horse, and galloped down the hill.
I reached the edge of the woods where the two had gone in, and followed some distance upon their trail; but I lost it at length, and came to a halt.
I remained for some minutes listening for voices, or, what I more expected to hear, the report of a pistol. Neither sound reached me. I heard only the shouts of the vaqueros on
