The Firebrand
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Crockett Samuel Rutherford. The Firebrand
CHAPTER I. THE MAKING OF AN OUTLAW
CHAPTER II. THE MAN WITHOUT A FRIEND
CHAPTER III. COCK O' THE NORTH
CHAPTER IV. A LITTLE COMB-CUTTING
CHAPTER V. THE ABBEY OF MONTBLANCH
CHAPTER VI. BROTHER HILARIO
CHAPTER VII. THE ABBOT'S DINNER
CHAPTER VIII. SANCTUARY
CHAPTER IX. THE SHADOW OF THE DESTROYER
CHAPTER X. A MAN AND HIS PRICE
CHAPTER XI. CARTEL OF DEFIANCE
CHAPTER XII. THE CRYING OF A YOUNG CHILD
CHAPTER XIII. DON TOMAS DIGS A GRAVE
CHAPTER XIV. THE HOLY INNOCENTS
CHAPTER XV. ROLLO INTERVENES
CHAPTER XVI. DON LUIS IS WILLING
CHAPTER XVII. A GRAVE IRREGULARITY
CHAPTER XVIII. A FLUTTER OF RED AND WHITE
CHAPTER XIX. SIGNALS OF STORM
CHAPTER XX. THE BUTCHER OF TORTOSA
CHAPTER XXI. TO BE SHOT AT SUNRISE!
CHAPTER XXII. HIS MOTHER'S ROSARY
CHAPTER XXIII. THE BURNING OF THE MILL-HOUSE
CHAPTER XXIV. HOW TO BECOME A SOLDIER
CHAPTER XXV. THE MISSION OF THE SEÑORITA CONCHA
CHAPTER XXVI. DEEP ROMANY
CHAPTER XXVII. THE SERGEANT AND LA GIRALDA
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DEAD AND THE LIVING
CHAPTER XXIX. A LITTLE QUEEN AT HOME
CHAPTER XXX. PALACE BURGLARS
CHAPTER XXXI. THE QUEEN'S ANTE-CHAMBER
CHAPTER XXXII. LIKE A FALLING STAR
CHAPTER XXXIII. CONCHA WAITS FOR THE MORNING
CHAPTER XXXIV. OUR ROLLO TO THE RESCUE
CHAPTER XXXV. THE EXECUTIONER OF SALAMANCA
CHAPTER XXXVI. DEATH-CART
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE DEAD STAND SENTINEL
CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCHA SAYS AMEN
CHAPTER XXXIX. A HANDFUL OF ROSES
CHAPTER XL. ALL DANDIES ARE NOT COWARDS
CHAPTER XLI. ROLLO USES A LITTLE PERSUASION
CHAPTER XLII. A SNARE NOT SPREAD IN VAIN
CHAPTER XLIII. THE RED BOINAS OF NAVARRE
CHAPTER XLIV "FOR ROLLO'S SAKE"
CHAPTER XLV. FORLORNEST HOPES
CHAPTER XLVI. THE SERGENT'S LAST SALUTE
CHAPTER XLVII. MENDIZÁBAL
CHAPTER XLVIII. A POINT OF HONOUR
CHAPTER XLIX. LIKE FIRE THROUGH SUMMER GRASS
CHAPTER L. AVE CONCHA IMPERATRIX!
Отрывок из книги
Yet on the side of Rafael and little Dolóres Garcia there was something to be said. Ramon, had he known all, need not have become "El Sarria," nor yet need young de Flores, the alcalde's son, have been carried home to the tall house with the courtyard and the one fig tree, a stab under his right shoulder-blade, driven through from side to side of his white girlish body.
It was true enough that he went to the house of Ramon to "eat iron," to "pluck the turkey," to "hold the wall." But 'twas not Dolóres, the wife of Ramon, who knew of it, but pretty Andalucian Concha, the handmaiden and companion Ramon had given his wife when they were first married. Concha was niece to the priest's Manuela, a slim sloe-eyed witty thing, light of heart and foot as a goose feather that blows over a common on a northerly breeze. She had had more sweethearts than she could count on the fingers of both hands, this pleasantly accommodative maiden, and there was little of the teaching of the happy guileful province in which Concha needed instruction, when for health and change of scene she came to the house of Ramon and Dolóres Garcia in the upland village of Sarria.
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Very cautiously, for now it was life or death, yet with perfect assurance that none knew of his path of safety, Ramon stole onward. He was in the jaws now. He was out. He rushed swiftly for the first huge boulder, his head drawn in between his shoulders, his gun held in his left hand, his knife in his right.
But from the very mouth of the pass six men sprang after him, and as many more fronted him and turned him as he ran.
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