A Williams Anthology Part 18

"You go, Fritz. I'd like to, only my foot's too bad."

"I won't go without you," he said.

Here I took him aside and told him what I had seen at the table.

"Now," I said, "if you don't go you're a fool. And personally I'd rather stay here anyhow and talk to the _don_."

"All right. I'll do it."

The girl was watching him, and as he spoke she smiled. Then she walked over to him, put both her hands in his, looked up into his face and laughed aloud, a cheery, rippling laugh.

"For to-night," she said, "you shall be my cavalier, _mi caballero_."

Then I heard him whisper in Spanish:

"I will. And you shall be my lady."

After half an hour of bustling and sewing and rummaging in trunks, there appeared on the stairs some six feet of Spanish cavalier. I held him off at arm's length.

"Well, old man, you look like a prince. You pretty near match the princess. But where did you get that rig?"

"Oh, the boots and the picture hat"--he nodded his head and the feather moved majestically--"they belong to old Marcelo. He used to wear 'em. They have had a masquerade ball here every year for the past fifty years, more or less--Don Lucas couldn't quite remember. These boots"--they were patent leather with yellow tops--"fit as if they belonged to me. This cape is an old one of the girl's turned inside out"--it was light yellow satin--"and the red sash is hers too. I tell you, this is the best fun I've had in years. And isn't the girl a queen though!"

"Well," I began--but here she came into the room.

"It is time," she said, "that we started, you and I." Her father descended the stairs. Adelita threw her arms about his neck and kissed him.

"Good-night, _Padre_--till later. _Buenas noches_. Good-night, _senor_." This to me.

"_Buenas noches_, Adela," murmured the old man. "Good-night, _senor_.

Take good care of the daughter." The father and I pa.s.sed into the parlor.

She took Henderson's hand and led him out of the door. They did not go out of the gate, but turned through the little garden, past the house, and followed a narrow path that ran down the hill. As the gra.s.s was high on either side he followed where she led, holding fast to the hand she stretched out to him. Suddenly as the path dipped down the hill she commenced to run. Henderson held back. She looked over her shoulder, laughing.

"Are you afraid to follow?" she asked in Spanish.

"No, little one, I am not," he answered in the same tongue, "but I am afraid that with those high heels you will wrench your ankle."

"Oho," she laughed, "I was born for this." But she stopped and walked slowly.

The moon was just rising, big and red, as if it were autumn instead of late spring. The girl drew in a deep breath.

"Look at that, _Senor Federico mio_, look at that." She still spoke in the Old World tongue.

Now they had reached the little brook that tumbled down through the rolling valley. The girl spoke again.

"Here the path is wider. You may walk beside me--if you like." She glanced up from under her black lashes. "The hall is but a short half mile down the stream here to the left." They proceeded, walking slowly, the brook purling and murmuring at their side. The girl drew in her breath again, deliberately and deep.

"Smell the roses. It is the long arbor of Don Benito, through which we must pa.s.s. Ah, it is wonderful."

The heavy musk of roses seemed literally to fill the bottom of the vale. With it was mingled the scent of the gra.s.s and of the field flowers. Over all hung the moon, yellow and near.

"It is wonderful," mused Henderson. She came close to him.

"Remember," she said, "to-night I am your lady, and you--you are my cavalier. Take care of the feather in your cavalier's hat, for here is the arbor." He bowed his head, and they pa.s.sed beneath the sweet-scented array of blossoms and buds. Then, as they rounded a corner of the slope, there came to them from far down the valley the sound of music and the glint of lights through the uneasy leaves of the maples.

"Hear it," the girl cried, "hear it! They may be dancing. Let us hurry. 's.h.!.+ Now we are getting too near. We must mask. Here, _senor_, help me with my mask and I will do the same for you. Thank you. Stoop lower, please. There, now it is right!" They proceeded. "I wonder what Carlos will say to this. He will be surprised when we unmask. Until then he will not know me--nor you either." She lowered her voice. "I told him that my costume was to be that of a shepherdess."

They were close to the hall now. A turn brought them to a wider path which led directly to the building. Up the steps and into the throng of masks they pa.s.sed, the girl now holding tight to the man's arm. The orchestra was playing a waltz and the pair swung into the whirl, dancing fast and gracefully. The music stopped; a man in the costume of a Spanish sailor came up and asked for the next. The girl looked down, then glanced quickly up and pointed silently to the tall cavalier at her side. The sailor bowed and pa.s.sed on. Then the music started again.

"I cannot speak, you see," the girl panted as they swept around a corner, "or they would know my voice. Of course--oh look, there is Carlos. He must be looking everywhere for me."

A tall man, clad in the helmet and boots of a Spanish military officer, stood in the center of the floor, intently watching each couple as it pa.s.sed. Adelita he followed closely with his eyes, as if perplexed. Then he shook his head.

"He does not know me," she laughed.

But at the end of that dance he strode up to her and bowed.

"May I have the honor?"

She said nothing, but inclined her head. Then they waltzed off.

Henderson stood at the side watching the whirling crowd. The vivid reds and yellows and greens of the costumes blended harmoniously in a swirl of color that seemed a part of the music, the laughter, and the splendor of the night. Just then the couple pa.s.sed, the man talking intently, the girl with her head bowed, saying nothing. As the dance ended, Henderson was about to go up and accost an attractive looking shepherdess, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, surprised. It was the tall officer whom Adelita had called Carlos.

"Stranger," he said in English, "why have you made my Adela, Senorita de Marcelo, try to hide from me? Do you think, although she has not spoken, that I could fail to know her? Do you think I would not recognize her even if she came in a black cowl and robe? Who are you that have dared speak to her as you have? I have watched her--and you.

Hear me, interloper, I will not have you dance with her or speak to her again. The rest of the house is yours--and welcome." He was answered in Spanish.

"With my compliments, mind your own business. When I need advice I shall come to you, and not before. Who are you--and pray, who am I?"

"I--I am Senor Carlos Gerardo," he answered in the native tongue. "How do I know you? Bah! I know every man in the room. You heard what I said about Adelita. Now remember."

Henderson turned on his heel and walked directly over to where the girl stood, talking with the shepherdess. Adelita looked down as he came up and tapped the floor nervously with the toe of a red slipper.

Her face was flushed.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

"Surely."

They swung off to the tune of a catchy American popular air. Few of the dances had been Spanish. He waited, and at last she broke the silence.

"Carlos danced with me and tried to get me to speak, but I would not.

Nevertheless he knows me, and is angry--very angry. But it will do him good. He--he said he was going to speak to you."

"He did," put in Henderson dryly. "Is it the custom here to allow no other man to dance with one's friends?"

"No," she said, "it is not. But he--Carlos is very jealous."

After the dance the officer came up to Henderson again.

"You heard me," he muttered. "I cannot bear with this."