The Coast of Adventure Part 49

"Well," he agreed, "I guess that's so. Anyway, the game can't last much longer; they'll have to use our guns in the next few days."

"Yes; and as we don't know what part we'll have in it, you'd better get some rest. I'll keep watch a while."

Walthew was glad of the opportunity to sleep; and Grahame, moving back into the shadow as the sun got hot, sat still, with his mind busy and his eyes fixed upon the road.

At noon Blanca came out of the house and stood looking down at Walthew with a compa.s.sionate gentleness that she did not try to hide. The half-healed cut showed plainly on his forehead, his brown face looked worn, and he lay in an att.i.tude of deep weariness.

"It is a pity to wake him, but we must start," she said, and indicated the scar. "I suppose you can guess that he has borne something, and he got that wound for you."

"I'm not likely to forget it," Grahame answered quietly.

"No," Blanca said with a curious smile. "You do not make many protestations, you men of the North, but one can trust you."

She stooped and touched Walthew gently.

"It is noon and we must go."

Her voice was quiet, but Walthew seemed to know it in his sleep, for he sprang to his feet with a half-ashamed air.

"I didn't mean to sleep so long," he said, and looked at Blanca anxiously. "Have you rested enough? Are you quite fit to travel?"

Blanca smiled; and when Walthew brought up the mule and helped her to mount she noticed something new in his manner. Hitherto, it had been marked by a certain diffidence, but now this had gone. He was a.s.siduously careful of her, but with a hint of proprietary right.

Something had happened since she had last seen him to account for the change. She gave Grahame a searching glance, but his face was impa.s.sive.

They set off, Walthew walking beside the mule, but it was to Grahame that the girl spoke as they moved slowly forward in the scorching heat.

He thought he understood, and his eyes twinkled with amus.e.m.e.nt when she was not looking. Blanca suspected him, and she did not mean Walthew to take too much for granted.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

LOVE'S VISION

It was late when Walthew led Blanca's mule through the rebel camp to the table under a tree where Don Martin sat writing. There was a half moon in the sky, and as they pa.s.sed between the rows of motionless, dark figures stretched on the ground, here and there an upturned face caught the light and shone a livid white. In places a sentry's form was silhouetted, vague and black, against the sky, but except for this all was wrapped in puzzling shadow, and silence brooded over the camp.

One of Don Martin's staff sat beside the table, smoking a cigarette, another lay asleep near by, but a small lamp burned steadily near the leader's hand, lighting up his grave face against the gloom. He put down his pen and waited when Walthew stopped the mule and helped the girl to dismount.

"I have had the honor of escorting the senorita from Rio Frio, where with her help I got my partner out of the _carcel_," he said.

"Yes," Don Martin returned in a quiet voice, "I have heard something of this. I am told that you met my daughter at the _hacienda_ Perez. Was it by accident?"

Walthew, remembering Grahame's remarks on the subject, felt embarra.s.sed, for the steadiness of Don Martin's glance was significant.

"Certainly!" he answered. "I had never heard of the _hacienda_ before I reached it. For all that, I would not have kept away if I had known the senorita was there."

"One must acknowledge your frankness," Don Martin remarked. "Well, what happened afterward?"

Walthew looked at Blanca, but she seemed to be smiling as she unfolded her fan, and he began a brief account of their adventures.

"And your comrade is with you?" asked Don Martin. "I was told of his escape, but you have been some time on the way. Our friends who lost you in Rio Frio arrived this morning."

Blanca laughed.

"I cannot walk like a peon," she explained.

"But you came on a mule!"

"We had gone some distance when Carson, the trader, lent it to us."

Walthew had not mentioned their meeting with the President's messenger, and Don Martin looked surprised.

"Carson!" he exclaimed. "If I did not believe Mr. Grahame was a man of honor, I should not know what to think."

"Mr. Walthew also is a man of honor," Blanca retorted in a meaning tone.

"But I have news which you must hear at once."

Don Martin turned to Walthew.

"You will give me a few minutes; then I will see you again."

Taking this as a dismissal, Walthew went back to where Grahame was waiting and smoked a cigarette with him. Soon after he had finished it, a drowsy soldier beckoned him and he returned to Sarmiento. When he reached the table Blanca had gone.

"Senor," he said, "I have a favor to ask; but the accident that I was thrown into Miss Sarmiento's company at the _hacienda_ and Rio Frio has nothing to do with it. You must understand that. I want your consent to my marriage to your daughter."

"Ah!" said Don Martin. "You have learned that she is willing?"

Walthew felt half guilty when he thought of the kiss beneath the window-sill, but he looked at Don Martin steadily.

"I thought it better to follow your customs," he explained. "Blanca does not know I meant to ask you. But I want to say that my mind has been made up for some time. It was for her sake that I determined to stay on the coast and give you all the help I could."

There was a gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt in Don Martin's eyes.

"Then my daughter gained us a useful ally. But, so far, you have spoken for yourself. What about your parents? Blanca Sarmiento is not an American."

Walthew hesitated for a moment.

"They may feel some surprise, but I believe it will vanish when they have seen her; and I choose my wife to please myself. I think I have means enough to make my way without any help, though I haven't a great deal."

"How much?"

Sarmiento nodded when Walthew told him.

"It is enough; you would be thought a rich man in this country. Still, I would prefer to have your father's consent. It is our custom that a marriage should be arranged with the approval of both families."

"But you are a progressive and don't count much on customs. I understand that you mean to cut out all those that stop your people from going ahead."

"It is true to some extent," Don Martin admitted with a smile. "For all that, one may believe in progress in the abstract, and yet hesitate about making risky experiments that touch one's own family. However, if Blanca is willing, I can trust her to you."