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"But you said it could not fail," breaks in the girl, her countenance again clouding over. "Is there a doubt, Mam Shebotha?"
"There's always uncertainty in these things," rejoins the sorceress; "and in the _love-spell_ more than any other. As you know, love is the strongest pa.s.sion, and therefore the most difficult to control."
All this, by way of making safe her bargain, for well knows she her spell will not bring back Aguara's love, lost to Nacena; and as the bulk of the reward promised will depend upon this, she has yet another proposal to make that may ensure its payment. She acts as one who would hedge a bet, and drawing closer to the victim of her delusion, she says--
"If Nacena should ever want the paleface put to sleep by that other spell, Shebotha will administer it."
As the fiendish suggestion is spoken in a whisper, the three listeners do not hear what it is. They can only guess by the behaviour of the young girl that some offer has been made which she indignantly rejects.
This can be told by her rejoinder, and the air in which she delivers it.
"No!" she exclaims, starting back with an expression of horror upon her countenance. "Never, never! If Aguara be untrue to me, it is no fault of the paleface. I know that; and have no vengeance for her. But for him--ah! if he have deceived me, it is not she, but he should suffer punishment. And punished he shall be--by my brother."
"Oh! your brother!" returns the sorceress with a sneer, evidently in anger at having her offer so rejected. "If Kaolin can right your wrongs, let him." And she adds, making to move off, "I suppose you haven't any more need for me, or my services."
"If she haven't I have," cries Gaspar, springing out from the place of concealment and seizing hold of the hag, while at the same instant Cypriano flings his arms around the Indian girl.
"Come, Mam Shebotha!" continues the gaucho, "it's my turn to have a talk with you."
She makes an effort to escape, and would cry out; but cannot, with his sinewy fingers around her throat.
"Stop your struggling!" he commands, giving her a shake till her old bones crackle at every joint. "A cry, a word from you above a whisper, and I'll close your windpipe so that you'll never grunt through it again. Come, _muchachos_! Let's to the other side! One of you bring on the girl. _Vamos_!"
Raising the hag in his arms he bears her off, with no more care for her comfort than if she were a trapped wolf. Nacena is borne more tenderly in Ludwig's arms, into which she has been transferred, by a sort of tacit understanding between him and his cousin--the latter walking alongside. No threat hears the girl, nor needs it to enforce silence.
For she is no more apprehensive of injury, now knowing him who carries her as her brother's old playfellow. Above all, does she feel rea.s.sured, on hearing whispered in her ear--
"Have no fear, Nacena! Am not I the bosom friend of your brother? _I will not deceive you_."
Does she note the earnestness of his words, and the significant emphasis given to those last p.r.o.nounced? Whether or not, she refrains making rejoinder: but suffers herself to be borne on through the scaffold tombs without resistance, and silent as the forms reposing upon them.
CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.
A FRIEND UNEXPECTED.
Straight across the cemetery goes Gaspar, with Shebotha in his arms, nor stops he till back on the spot where the path leads down to the outer plain. Arriving there, he deposits his living burden upon the earth; not gently, but dumping her down with a rude violence, as though it were a bunch of f.a.ggots. Still he does not let her out of his arms altogether; but with a threat, once more warning her to be silent, retains fast hold of her, till Cypriano has brought him a _lazo_ from the saddle of one of the horses near by. Looping this round the body of the sorceress, and taking a few turns of it about her arms and ankles, he spreads his poncho over her head, then knots the rope around her neck, and so m.u.f.fles her beyond the chance of either hearing or making herself heard. All this done, he again raises her from the ground, and carrying her some distance back among the scaffolds, he binds her to a corner post of one with the end of the _lazo_ yet unused. His purpose in thus disposing of her is not clear to his companions, both of whom he has left in charge of the Indian girl; who, on her part, makes no attempt to escape. Instead, released from Ludwig's arms, she stands silently by his side, neither trembling nor showing sign of fear. Why should she, with those words of friendly a.s.surance which have been once more whispered in her ear?
And now Gaspar getting back to where they stand, and speaking in the Tovas tongue sufficiently well to be understood by her, says to Nacena--
"_Muchacha mia_! you see who we are, and know all three of us. We know you, Nacena--even to your tenderest secret; which has been revealed to us in the dialogue just held between yourself and Mam Shebotha. Every word of that we've heard, with the lies she's been telling you. And let me tell you, that of all the wicked impostor's promises, there's but one she could have kept--that to rid you of her you deem a rival. And she could only have done that by doing murder; which was what she meant by her sleeping draught."
The young girl shudders listening to what she knows is but the truth.
"'Twas good of you to reject the foul proposal," goes on the gaucho, "and indignantly, as we know you did. We saw and heard it all. And now, I have a proposal to offer, which you won't reject; I'm sure you won't, Nacena."
She makes no rejoinder, but stands waiting to receive it.
"It is," he continues, "that you can still rid yourself of that rival, not by doing wrong, but right and justice. With your help we shall take her away to a place where Aguara will never more set eyes upon her. But as I've said, we stand in need of your a.s.sistance, and you must give it."
"You will, you will!" interposes Cypriano, in tones of earnest appeal.
"Yes, dear Nacena," follows Ludwig, in tenderer tones; "I'm sure you will. Remember, she is my sister, and that you yourself have a brother!"
Had they but known it, there was no need for all this pet.i.tioning. Even while Gaspar was speaking, and long before he had finished, the Indian girl, with the quick, subtle instinct of her race, divined what they were aiming at--the very end she herself desires, and might have proposed to them. The same instinct, however, prompts her to feign ignorance of it, as evinced by her interrogative rejoinder:--
"How can Nacena a.s.sist you? In what way?"
"By helping us to get the paleface out of her prison." It is Gaspar who speaks. "She is imprisoned, is she not?"
"She is."
"And where is she kept?" further questions the gaucho.
Cypriano trembles as he listens for the answer. He fears, half expecting it to be, "In the _toldo_ of the _cacique_."
It is a relief to him, when Nacena, pointing towards the dark object bound to the scaffold-post, says: "She has charge of the paleface captive."
"_Bueno_!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es Gaspar with delight in his eyes, as in those of Cypriano. "Nothing could be better than that. And now that we have Shebotha here, no one will be guarding the prisoner--will there?"
"Alas, yes!" responds the Indian girl, her words with their tone telling that she has entered into the spirit of their enterprise.
"Who?" interrogates Gaspar. "What is he--if it be a man?"
"Yes, a man. A white man, like yourselves; one who has been long with our tribe--a captive taken many years ago from some of the countries south. He is Shebotha's own slave, and watches over the paleface when she is out of the _toldo_."
Again the gaucho e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es, "_Bueno_!" adding, in _sotto voce_, to his two companions, "It seems better still; a bit of rare good luck; that is, if this white man, whoever he be, isn't grown Indianised, as I've known some to be." Then to the girl. "Shebotha's slave, you say? In that case, he should be wanting to regain his liberty, and we may give him the chance. If need be, we can take him along, too. You understand, Nacena?"
"I do."
"Then you agree to a.s.sist us?"
"Say yes!" urges Cypriano.
"_My_ sister, Nacena!" adds Ludwig.
In response to their united appeals, she points to the sorceress, saying--
"Her vengeance is to be dreaded. If I do as you wish me, Shebotha--"
"Won't hurt a hair of your head," says Gaspar, interrupting. "Nor can't. She'll not be near enough to do you any injury. That worthy woman is on the eve of a long journey, to be made in our company, if you agree to a.s.sist us in getting the paleface away. You do agree to it, _amiga mia_?"
The girl fully comprehending, and relieved at the thought of the dreaded sorceress being taken out of the way, at length not only signifies a.s.sent to their scheme, but embraces it with alacrity. Its success will be to her advantage as theirs, ridding her of that rival feared, and it may be, restoring to her the affections of him on whom she has fixed her own.
And now that confidence is established between her and her captors, she gives them a full account of how things stand in the _tolderia_, and the place where the captive is confined. Having heard which, Gaspar counsels her how to act, as a last word, saying--
"Tell this white man, who has charge of the _nina_, he need no longer be a prisoner himself, nor Shebotha's slave. Say to him, that men of his own race and colour are near, ready to rescue and take him back to his people, wherever they may be. Surely that will be enough to gain him to our side, and get his help also."
Nacena hesitates for a time; then answering, says--