susy, a story of the plains-第17节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



death？　　Mount；　every　one　of　you；　and　follow　me！〃



The　men　hesitated；　but　for　only　a　moment。　　Clarence　had　a　fine

assortment　of　Spanish　epithets；　expletives；　and　objurgations；

gathered　in　his　rodeo　experience　at　El　Refugio；　and　laid　them　about

him　with　such　fervor　and　discrimination　that　two　or　three　mules；

presumably　with　guilty　consciences；　mistaking　their　direction；

actually　cowered　against　the　stockade　of　the　corral　in　fear。　　In

another　moment　the　vacqueros　had　hastily　mounted；　and；　with　Clarence

at　their　head；　were　dashing　down　the　road　towards　Santa　Inez。　　Here

he　spread　them　in　open　order　in　the　grain；　on　either　side　of　the

track；　himself　taking　the　road。



They　did　not　proceed　very　far。　　For　when　they　had　reached　the

gradual　slope　which　marked　the　decline　to　the　second　terrace；

Clarence；　obeying　an　instinct　as　irresistible　as　it　was

unaccountable；　which　for　the　last　few　moments　had　been　forcing

itself　upon　him；　ordered　a　halt。　　The　casa　and　corral　had　already

sunk　in　the　plain　behind　them；　it　was　the　spot　where　the　lasso　had

been　thrown　at　him　a　few　evenings　before！　　Bidding　the　men　converge

slowly　towards　the　road；　he　went　on　more　cautiously；　with　his　eyes

upon　the　track　before　him。　　Presently　he　stopped。　　There　was　a

ragged　displacement　of　the　cracked　and　crumbling　soil　and　the

unmistakable　scoop　of　kicking　hoofs。　　As　he　stooped　to　examine　them；

one　of　the　men　at　the　right　uttered　a　shout。　　By　the　same　strange

instinct　Clarence　knew　that　Peyton　was　found！



He　was；　indeed；　lying　there　among　the　wild　oats　at　the　right　of　the

road；　but　without　trace　of　life　or　scarcely　human　appearance。　　His

clothes；　where　not　torn　and　shredded　away；　were　partly　turned　inside

out；　his　shoulders；　neck；　and　head　were　a　shapeless；　undistinguishable

mask　of　dried　earth　and　rags；　like　a　mummy　wrapping。　　His　left　boot

was　gone。　　His　large　frame　seemed　boneless；　and；　except　for　the

cerements　of　his　mud…stiffened　clothing；　was　limp　and　sodden。



Clarence　raised　his　head　suddenly　from　a　quick　examination　of　the

body；　and　looked　at　the　men　around　him。　　One　of　them　was　already

cantering　away。　　Clarence　instantly　threw　himself　on　his　horse；　and；

putting　spurs　to　the　animal；　drew　a　revolver　from　his　holster　and

fired　over　the　man's　head。　　The　rider　turned　in　his　saddle；　saw　his

pursuer；　and　pulled　up。



〃Go　back；〃　said　Clarence；　〃or　my　next　shot　won't　MISS　you。〃



〃I　was　only　going　to　inform　the　senora；〃　said　the　man　with　a　shrug

and　a　forced　smile。



〃I　will　do　that；〃　said　Clarence　grimly；　driving　him　back　with　him

into　the　waiting　circle；　then　turning　to　them　he　said　slowly；　with

deliberate；　smileless　irony；　〃And　now；　my　brave　gentlemen；knights

of　the　bull　and　gallant　mustang　hunters；I　want　to　inform　YOU　that

I　believe　that　Mr。　Peyton　was　MURDERED；　and　if　the　man　who　killed

him　is　anywhere　this　side　of　hell；　I　intend　to　find　him。　　Good！　　You

understand　me！　　Now　lift　up　the　body；you　two；　by　the　shoulders；

you　two；　by　the　feet。　　Let　your　horses　follow。　　For　I　intend　that

you　four　shall　carry　home　your　master　in　your　arms；　on　foot。　　Now

forward　to　the　corral　by　the　back　trail。　　Disobey　me；　or　step　out　of

line　and〃　　He　raised　the　revolver　ominously。



If　the　change　wrought　in　the　dead　man　before　them　was　weird　and

terrifying；　no　less　distinct　and　ominous　was　the　change　that；　during

the　last　few　minutes；　had　come　over　the　living　speaker。　　For　it　was

no　longer　the　youthful　Clarence　who　sat　there；　but　a　haggard；

prematurely　worn；　desperate…looking　avenger；　lank　of　cheek；　and

injected　of　eye；　whose　white　teeth　glistened　under　the　brown

mustache　and　thin　pale　lips　that　parted　when　his　restrained　breath

now　and　then　hurriedly　escaped　them。



As　the　procession　moved　on；　two　men　slunk　behind　with　the　horses。



〃Mother　of　God！　　Who　is　this　wolf's　whelp？〃　said　Manuel。



〃Hush！〃　said　his　companion　in　a　terrified　whisper。　　〃Have　you　not

heard？　　It　is　the　son　of　Hamilton　Brant；　the　assassin；　the　duelist；

he　who　was　fusiladed　in　Sonora。〃　　He　made　the　sign　of　the　cross

quickly。　　〃Jesus　Maria！　　Let　them　look　out　who　have　cause；　for　the

blood　of　his　father　is　in　him！〃





CHAPTER　VII。





What　other　speech　passed　between　Clarence　and　Peyton's　retainers　was

not　known；　but　not　a　word　of　the　interview　seemed　to　have　been

divulged　by　those　present。　　It　was　generally　believed　and　accepted

that　Judge　Peyton　met　his　death　by　being　thrown　from　his　half…broken

mustang；　and　dragged　at　its　heels；　and　medical　opinion；　hastily

summoned　from　Santa　Inez　after　the　body　had　been　borne　to　the

corral；　and　stripped　of　its　hideous　encasings；　declared　that　the

neck　had　been　broken；　and　death　had　followed　instantaneously。　　An

inquest　was　deemed　unnecessary。



Clarence　had　selected　Mary　to　break　the　news　to　Mrs。　Peyton；　and　the

frightened　young　girl　was　too　much　struck　with　the　change　still

visible　in　his　face；　and　the　half　authority　of　his　manner；　to

decline；　or　even　to　fully　appreciate　the　calamity　that　had　befallen

them。　　After　the　first　benumbing　shock；　Mrs。　Peyton　passed　into　that

strange　exaltation　of　excitement　brought　on　by　the　immediate

necessity　for　action；　followed　by　a　pallid　calm；　which　the　average

spectator　too　often　unfairly　accepts　as　incongruous；　inadequate；　or

artificial。　　There　had　also　occurred　one　of　those　strange

compensations　that　wait　on　Death　or　disrupture　by　catastrophe：　such

as　the　rude　shaking　down　of　an　unsettled　life；　the　forcible

realization　of　what　were　vague　speculations；　the　breaking　of　old

habits　and　traditions；　and　the　unloosing　of　half…conscious　bonds。

Mrs。　Peyton；　without　insensibility　to　her　loss　or　disloyalty　to　her

affections；　nevertheless　felt　a　relief　to　know　that　she　was　now

really　Susy's　guardian；　free　to　order　her　new　life　wherever　and

under　what　conditions　she　chose　as　most　favorable　to　it；　and　that

she　could　dispose　of　this　house　that　was　wearying　to　her　when　Susy

was　away；　and　which　the　girl　herself　had　always　found　insupportable。

She　could　settle　this　question　of　Clarence's　relations　to　her

daughter　out　of　hand　without　advice　or　opposition。　　She　had　a

brother　in　the　East；　who　would　be　summoned　to　take　care　of　the

property。　　This　consideration　for　the　living　pursued　her；　even　while

the　dead　man's　presence　still　awed　the　hushed　house；　it　was　in　her

thoughts　as　she　stood　beside　his　bier　and　adjusted　the　flowers　on

his　breast；　which　no　longer　moved　for　or　against　these　vanities；　and

it　stayed　with　her　even　in　the　solitude　of　her　darkened　room。



But　if　Mrs。　Peyton　was　deficient；　it　was　Susy　who　filled　the　popular

idea　of　a　mourner；　and　whose　emotional　attitude　of　a　grief…stricken

daughter　left　nothing　to　be　desired。　　It　was　she　who；　when　the　house

was　filled　with　sympathizing　friends　from　San　Francisco　and　the　few

near　neighbors　who　had　hurried　with　condolences；　was　overflowing　in

her　reminiscences　of　the　dead　man's　goodness　to　her；　and　her　own

undying　affection；　who　recalled　ominous　things　that　he　had　said；　and

strange　premonitions　of　her　own；　the　result　of　her　ever…present

filial　anxiety；　it　was　she　who　had　hurried　home　that　afternoon；

impelled　with　vague　fears　of　some　impending　calamity；　it　was　she　who

drew　a　picture　of　Peyton　as　a　doting　and　almost　too　indulgent

parent；　which　Mary　Rogers　failed　to　recognize；　and　which　brought

back　vividly　to　Clarence's　recollection　her　own　childish

exaggerations　of　the　Indian　massacre。　　I　am　far　from　saying　that　she

was　entirely　insincere　or　merely　acting　at　these　moments；　at　times

she　was　taken　with　a　mild　hysteria；　brought　on　by　the　exciting

intrusion　of　this　real　event　in　her　monotonous　life；　by　the

attentions　of　her　friends；　the　importance　of　her　suffering　as　an

only　child；　and　the　advancement　of　her　position　as　the　heiress　of

the　Robles　Rancho。　　If　her　tears　were　near　the　surface；　they　were　at

least　genuine；　and　filmed　her　violet　eyes　and　reddened　her　pretty

eyelids　quite　as　effectually　as　if　they　had　welled　from　the　depths

of　her　being。　　Her　black　frock　lent　a　matured　dignity　to　her　figure；

and　paled　her　delicate　complexion　with　the　refinement　of　suffering。

Even　Clarence　was　moved　in　that　dark　and　haggard　abstraction　that

had　settled　upon　him　since　his　strange　outbreak　over　the　body　of　his

old　friend。



The　extent　of　that　change　had　not　been　noticed　by　Mrs。　Peyton；　who

had　only　observed　that　Clarence　had　treated　her　grief　with　a　grave

and　silent　respect。　　She　was　grateful　for　that。　　A　repetition　of　his

boyish　impulsiveness　would　have　been　distasteful　to　her　at　such　a

moment。　　She　only　thought　him　more　mature　and　more　subdued；　and　as

the　only　man　now　in　her　household　his　services　had　been　invaluable

in　the　emergency。



The　funeral　had　taken　place　at　Santa　Inez；　where　half　the　county

gathered　to　pay　their　last　respects　to　their　former　fellow…citizen

and　neighbor；　whose　legal　and　combative　victories　they　had　admired；

and　whom　death　had　lifted　into　a　public　character