The Pirates of the Prairies Part 50

The maiden's face was inundated with tears, and her bosom heaved.

"Ungrateful man," she said, with an accent of bitter reproach, "he does not understand how much I love him."

Don Pablo made a final effort; he overcame his grief, and said, in a stammering voice--

"Go, then, and may Heaven protect you!"

"Farewell!"

"Oh! Not farewell--we shall meet again."

The girl shook her head sadly, and leaped on the horse the Canadian held ready for her.

"Harry," said Don Pablo, "watch over her."

"As over my sister," the Canadian answered, in a deep voice.

Ellen gave a parting signal of farewell to Don Pablo, and loosened the bridle. The young man fell on the ground in despair.

"Oh! All my happiness has fled me!" he muttered, in a broken voice.

Moukapec had not made a move; his sleep must have been very sound. Two hours later, Valentine and his friends returned from their trip to the island, and Don Miguel at once noticed the absence of the squatter's daughter.

"Where is Ellen?" he asked, quickly.

"Gone!" Don Pablo muttered.

"And you allowed her to fly?" the hacendero exclaimed.

"She was not a prisoner, hence I had no right to oppose her departure."

"And the Canadian hunter?"

"Gone too."

"Oh!" Don Miguel exclaimed, "We must start in pursuit of them without the loss of a moment."

A shudder of terror and joy ran over the young man's body, as he turned pale at this proposition. Valentine gave him a searching glance, and then laid his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"We will do nothing of the sort," he said, with a meaning smile; "on the contrary, we will allow Red Cedar's daughter to withdraw unimpeded."

"But--" Don Miguel objected.

Valentine bent down and whispered a few words in his ear. The hacendero started.

"You are right," he muttered.

"Now," the hunter went on, "let us sleep, for I promise you a hard day's work tomorrow."

Everyone seemed to acknowledge the justice of this remark, and scarce a quarter of an hour after it had been made, the hunters were lying asleep round the fire. Curumilla alone was leaning against a larch tree, of which he seemed to form part, watching over the common safety.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

FRAY AMBROSIO.

We will now return to the gambusinos.

Sutter and Nathan had not said a word to their brother; while he, for his part, did not appear to have recognised them. When all were preparing to sleep, Shaw also laid himself on the ground, while imperceptibly approaching Dona Clara.

The maiden, with her head buried in her hands, and her elbows supported on her knees, was weeping silently. These tears broke Shaw's heart, and he would have laid down his life to stop their flow.

In the meanwhile, the night grew more and more dark; the moon, veiled by thick clouds which pa.s.sed incessantly over its pale disc, only cast forth dim rays, too weak to pierce the dome of foliage under which the gambusinos had sought shelter. Shaw, rea.s.sured by the complete immobility of his comrades and the mournful silence that brooded over the clearing, ventured slightly to touch the young lady's arm.

"What do you want with me?" she asked in a mournful voice.

"Speak low," he replied; "in Heaven's name, speak low, senora, or one of the men lying there may overhear us. These villains have so fine an ear, that the slightest sighing of the wind through the leaves is sufficient to awake them and put them on their guard."

"Why should I care whether they awake?" she continued, reproachfully "Thanks to you, in whom I trusted, have I not fallen into their hands again?"

"Oh!" he said, writhing his hands in despair, "you cannot believe me capable of such odious treachery."

"Still, you see where we are."

"Alas! I am not to blame for it; fatality has done it all."

An incredulous smile hovered round the maiden's pallid lips.

"Have at least the courage to defend your bad deed, and confess you are a bandit like the men sleeping there. Oh," she added, bitterly, "I have no right to reproach you; on the contrary, I ought to admire you; for though you are still very young, you have displayed, under present circ.u.mstances, a degree of skill and cunning I was far from suspecting in you: you have played your part with consummate talent."

Each of these cruel words entered the unhappy young man's heart like a dagger, and made him endure atrocious torture.

"Yes," he said sadly, "appearances are against me; in vain should I try to persuade you of my innocence, for you would not believe me; and yet Heaven is my witness that I attempted all it was humanly possible to do, in order to save you."

"You were very unfortunate then, sir," she continued sarcastically; "for it must be allowed that all these attempts of which you boast strangely turned against you."

Shaw uttered a deep sigh.

"Good Heaven!" he said, "What proof can I give you of my devotion?"

"None," she replied coldly.

"Oh! madam."

"Sir," she interrupted him in a firm and ironical voice, "spare me, I beg of you, your lamentations, in whose sincerity I cannot believe, as there are too many undeniable proofs against you; even more odious than treachery are the hypocritical protestations of a traitor. You have succeeded, so what more do you want? Enjoy your triumph. I repeat to you that I do not reproach you, for you have acted as your instincts and training urged you to do; you have been true to yourself and faithful to your antecedents: I need say no more. Now, if I may be allowed to ask a favour of you, let us break off a conversation no longer possessing any interest, as you will not succeed in destroying my impressions about you: imitate the example of your comrades, and let me indulge in my grief without any obstacle."