susy, a story of the plains-第27节

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stablemen；　he　did　not　attempt　to　take　out　his　own　horse；　but　trusted

to　find　some　vacquero's　mustang　in　the　corral。　　By　good　luck　an　old

〃Blue　Grass〃　hack　of　Peyton's；　nearest　the　stockade　as　he　entered；

allowed　itself　to　be　quickly　caught。　　Using　its　rope　headstall　for　a

bridle；　Clarence　vaulted　on　its　bare　back；　and　paced　cautiously　out

into　the　road。　　Here　he　kept　the　curve　of　the　long　line　of　stockade

until　he　reached　the　outlying　field　where；　half　hidden　in　the

withered；　sapless；　but　still　standing　stalks　of　grain；　he　slowly

began　a　circuit　of　the　casa。



The　misty　gray　dome　above　him；　which　an　invisible　moon　seemed　to

have　quicksilvered　over；　alternately　lightened　and　darkened　with

passing　gusts　of　fine　rain。　　Nevertheless　he　could　see　the　outline

of　the　broad　quadrangle　of　the　house　quite　distinctly；　except　on　the

west　side；　where　a　fringe　of　writhing　willows　beat　the　brown　adobe

walls　with　their　imploring　arms　at　every　gust。　　Elsewhere　nothing

moved；　the　view　was　uninterrupted　to　where　the　shining；　watery　sky

met　the　equally　shining；　watery　plain。　　He　had　already　made　a　half

circuit　of　the　house；　and　was　still　noiselessly　picking　his　way

along　the　furrows；　muffled　with　soaked　and　broken…down　blades；　and

the　velvety　upspringing　of　the　〃volunteer〃　growth；　when　suddenly；

not　fifty　yards　before　him；　without　sound　or　warning；　a　figure　rode

out　of　the　grain　upon　the　open　crossroad；　and　deliberately　halted

with　a　listless；　abstracted；　waiting　air。　　Clarence　instantly

recognized　one　of　his　own　vacqueros；　an　undersized　half…breed；　but

he　as　instantly　divined　that　he　was　only　an　outpost　or　confederate；

stationed　to　give　the　alarm。　　The　same　precaution　had　prevented　each

hearing　the　other；　and　the　lesser　height　of　the　vacquero　had

rendered　him　indistinguishable　as　he　preceded　Clarence　among　the

grain。　　As　the　young　man　made　no　doubt　that　the　real　trespasser　was

nearer　the　casa；　along　the　line　of　willows；　he　wheeled　to　intercept

him　without　alarming　his　sentry。　　Unfortunately；　his　horse　answered

the　rope　bridle　clumsily；　and　splashed　in　striking　out。　　The　watcher

quickly　raised　his　head；　and　Clarence　knew　that　his　only　chance　was

now　to　suppress　him。　　Determined　to　do　this　at　any　hazard；　with　a

threatening　gesture　he　charged　boldly　down　upon　him。



But　he　had　not　crossed　half　the　distance　between　them　when　the　man

uttered　an　appalling　cry；　so　wild　and　despairing　that　it　seemed　to

chill　even　the　hot　blood　in　Clarence's　veins；　and　dashed　frenziedly

down　the　cross…road　into　the　interminable　plain。　　Before　Clarence

could　determine　if　that　cry　was　a　signal　or　an　involuntary　outburst；

it　was　followed　instantly　by　the　sound　of　frightened　and　struggling

hoofs　clattering　against　the　wall　of　the　casa；　and　a　swaying　of　the

shrubbery　near　the　back　gate　of　the　patio。　　Here　was　his　real

quarry！　　Without　hesitation　he　dug　his　heels　into　the　flanks　of　his

horse　and　rode　furiously　towards　it。　　As　he　approached；　a　long

tremor　seemed　to　pass　through　the　shrubbery；　with　the　retreating

sound　of　horse　hoofs。　　The　unseen　trespasser　had　evidently　taken　the

alarm　and　was　fleeing；　and　Clarence　dashed　in　pursuit。　　Following

the　sound；　for　the　shrubbery　hid　the　fugitive　from　view；　he　passed

the　last　wall　of　the　casa；　but　it　soon　became　evident　that　the

unknown　had　the　better　horse。　　The　hoof…beats　grew　fainter　and

fainter；　and　at　times　appeared　even　to　cease；　until　his　own　approach

started　them　again；　eventually　to　fade　away　in　the　distance。　　In

vain　Clarence　dug　his　heels　into　the　flanks　of　his　heavier　steed；

and　regretted　his　own　mustang；　and　when　at　last　he　reached　the　edge

of　the　thicket　he　had　lost　both　sight　and　sound　of　the　fugitive。

The　descent　to　the　lower　terrace　lay　before　him　empty　and　desolate。

The　man　had　escaped！



He　turned　slowly　back　with　baffled　anger　and　vindictiveness。

However；　he　had　prevented　something；　although　he　knew　not　what。　　The

principal　had　got　away；　but　he　had　identified　his　confederate；　and

for　the　first　time　held　a　clue　to　his　mysterious　visitant。　　There

was　no　use　to　alarm　the　household；　which　did　not　seem　to　have　been

disturbed。　　The　trespassers　were　far　away　by　this　time；　and　the

attempt　would　hardly　be　repeated　that　night。　　He　made　his　way

quietly　back　to　the　corral；　let　loose　his　horse；　and　regained　the

casa　unobserved。　　He　unlocked　the　arched　door　in　the　wall；　reentered

the　darkened　passage；　stopped　a　moment　to　open　the　door　of　the

boudoir；　glance　at　the　closely　fastened　casement；　and　extinguish　the

still　burning　candle；　and；　relocking　the　door　securely；　made　his　way

to　his　own　room。



But　he　could　not　sleep。　　The　whole　incident；　over　so　quickly；　had

nevertheless　impressed　him　deeply；　and　yet　like　a　dream。　　The

strange　yell　of　the　vacquero　still　rang　in　his　ears；　but　with　an

unearthly　and　superstitious　significance　that　was　even　more

dreamlike　in　its　meaning。　　He　awakened　from　a　fitful　slumber　to　find

the　light　of　morning　in　the　room；　and　Incarnacion　standing　by　his

bedside。



The　yellow　face　of　the　steward　was　greenish　with　terror；　and　his

lips　were　dry。



〃Get　up；　Senor　Clarencio；　get　up　at　once；　my　master。　　Strange　things

have　happened。　　Mother　of　God　protect　us！〃



Clarence　rolled　to　his　feet；　with　the　events　of　the　past　night

struggling　back　upon　his　consciousness。



〃What　mean　you；　Nascio？〃　he　said；　grasping　the　man's　arm；　which　was

still　mechanically　making　the　sign　of　the　cross；　as　he　muttered

incoherently。　　〃Speak；　I　command　you！〃



〃It　is　Jose；　the　little　vacquero；　who　is　even　now　at　the　padre's

house；　raving　as　a　lunatic；　stricken　as　a　madman　with　terror！　　He

has　seen　him；the　dead　alive！　　Save　us！〃



〃Are　you　mad　yourself；　Nascio？〃　said　Clarence。　　〃Whom　has　he　seen？〃



〃Whom？　　God　help　us！　the　old　padronSenor　Peyton　himself！　　He

rushed　towards　him　here；　in　the　patio；　last　nightout　of　the　air；

the　sky；　the　ground；　he　knew　not；his　own　self；　wrapped　in　his　old

storm　cloak　and　hat；　and　riding　his　own　horse；erect；　terrible；　and

menacing；　with　an　awful　hand　upholding　a　ropeso！　　He　saw　him　with

these　eyes；　as　I　see　you。　　What　HE　said　to　him；　God　knows！　　The

priest；　perhaps；　for　he　has　made　confession！〃



In　a　flash　of　intelligence　Clarence　comprehended　all。　　He　rose

grimly　and　began　to　dress　himself。



〃Not　a　word　of　this　to　the　women；to　any　one；　Nascio；　dost　thou

understand？〃　he　said　curtly。　　〃It　may　be　that　Jose　has　been

partaking　too　freely　of　aguardiente；it　is　possible。　　I　will　see

the　priest　myself。　　But　what　possesses　thee？　　Collect　thyself；　good

Nascio。〃



But　the　man　was　still　trembling。



〃It　is　not　all；Mother　of　God！　it　is　not　all；　master！〃　he

stammered；　dropping　to　his　knees　and　still　crossing　himself。　　〃This

morning；　beside　the　corral；　they　find　the　horse　of　Pedro　Valdez

splashed　and　spattered　on　saddle　and　bridle；　and　in　the　stirrup；

dost　thou　hear？　the　STIRRUP；hanging；　the　torn…off　boot　of　Valdez！

Ah；　God！　　The　same　as　HIS！　　Now　do　you　understand？　　It　is　HIS

vengeance。　　No！　　Jesu　forgive　me！　it　is　the　vengeance　of　God！〃



Clarence　was　staggered。



〃And　you　have　not　found　Valdez？　　You　have　looked　for　him？〃　he　said；

hurriedly　throwing　on　his　clothes。



〃Everywhere；all　over　the　plain。　　The　whole　rancho　has　been　out

since　sunrise；here　and　there　and　everywhere。　　And　there　is

nothing！　　Of　course　not。　　What　would　you？〃　　He　pointed　solemnly　to

the　ground。



〃Nonsense！〃　said　Clarence；　buttoning　his　coat　and　seizing　his　hat。

〃Follow　me。〃



He　ran　down　the　passage；　followed　by　Incarnacion；　through　the

excited；　gesticulating　crowd　of　servants　in　the　patio；　and　out　of

the　back　gate。　　He　turned　first　along　the　wall　of　the　casa　towards

the　barred　window　of　the　boudoir。　　Then　a　cry　came　from　Incarnacion。



They　ran　quickly　forward。　　Hanging　from　the　grating　of　the　window；

like　a　mass　of　limp　and　saturated　clothes；　was　the　body　of　Pedro

Valdez；　with　one　unbooted　foot　dangling　within　an　inch　of　the

ground。　　His　head　was　passed　inside　the　grating　and　fixed　as　at　that

moment　when　the　first　spring　of　the　frightened　horse　had　broken　his

neck　between　the　bars　as　in　a　garrote；　and　the　second　plunge　of　the

terrified　animal　had　carried　off　his　boot　in　the　caught　stirrup　when

it　escaped。





CHAPTER　XI。





The　winter　rains　were　over　and　gone；　and　the　whole　long　line　of

Californian　coast　was　dashed　with　color。　　There　were　miles　of　yellow

and　red　poppies；　leagues　of　lupines　that　painted　the　gently　rounded

hills　with　soft　primary　hues；　and　long　continuous　slopes；　like　low

mountain　systems；　of　daisies　and　dandelions。　　At　Sacramento　it　was

already　summer；　the　yellow　river　was　flashing　and　intolerable；　the

tule　and　marsh　grasses　were　lush　and　long；　the　bloom　of　cottonwood

and　sycamore　whitened　the　outskirts　of　the　city；　and　as　Cyrus

Hopkins　and　his　daughter　Phoebe　looked　from　the　veranda　of　the

Placer　Hotel；　accustomed　as　they　were　to　the　cool　trade　winds　of　the

coas