Читать книгу Сердца трех / Hearts of three. Уровень 3 - Джек Лондон, William Hootkins - Страница 5

“We must work quickly,” Francis said to the Solanos.

“We must save him!” Leoncia cried out.

“All Gringos look alike to the Jefe,” Francis said. She was splendidly beautiful and wonderful, he thought. “We must get him out tonight.”

“Now listen,” Leoncia said. “We Solanos cannot permit this… this execution. Our pride… our honor. We cannot permit it. Father, suggest something.”

And while Enrico Solano and his sons talked plans and projects, a house servant came, whispered in Leoncia’s ear, and led her away.

Around the corner, Alvarez Torres greeted her, bowed low with a sombrero in hand.

“The trial is over, Leoncia,” he said softly. “Tomorrow at ten o’clock is the time. It is all very sad, most very sad. He was an honorable man. His one fault was his temper.”

“He never killed my uncle!” Leoncia cried.

“And it is regrettable,” Torres said gently and sadly, avoiding any disagreement. “The judge, the people, the Jefe Politico, unfortunately, all believe that he did. But I came to offer my service. You may command. Speak. I am your slave.”

He dropped suddenly and gracefully on one knee before her. He caught her hand.

“I knew you when you were small, Leoncia, and I loved you always. No, listen! Please. My heart must speak. I have been patient. I was silent.”

She listened patiently. Henry… And Francis… Why is this Gringo in her heart? Was she a wanton? One man or another? Or any man? No! No! She was not unfaithful. And yet?… Perhaps it was because Francis and Henry were so much alike. Her poor woman’s heart couldn’t distinguish between them. And she could follow Henry anywhere over the world, but now she is ready to follow Francis even farther. She loved Henry. But she loved Francis, too. There was a difference in her love for the two men.

Torres continued:

“Oh, Leoncia! I have dreamed of you… and for you. You are the Queen of my Dreams. And you will marry me, my Leoncia! We will forget this mad Gringo. I shall be gentle, kind. I shall love you always. He won’t stand between us.”

Leoncia was silent. How to save Henry?

“Speak!” Torres urged.

“Hush! Hush!” she said softly. “How can I listen to you, when the man I loved is yet alive?”

Loved! The past tense of it! She said “loved”. She loved him, but no longer. Torres was glad. The one thing is clear: if he wants to win Leoncia quickly, Henry Morgan must die quickly.

“Come,” she said. “We will join the others. They are planning now, or trying to find some plan, to save Henry Morgan.”

“I have a plan,” Torres began. He smiled, and twisted his mustache. “There is one way, and it is simple. That is just what it is. We will go and take Henry out of jail in brutal and direct fashion. It is the one thing they will not expect. Therefore, it will succeed. There are enough rascals on the beach with which we can storm the jail. Hire them, pay them well, and that’s all!”

Leoncia nodded. Old Enrico’s eyes flashed. And all looked to Francis for his opinion or agreement. He shook his head slowly.

“That way is hopeless,” he said. “Why will you risk your necks in a mad attempt like that?”

“You mean you doubt me?” Torres bristled. “Solanos are my oldest and most honored friends.”

Old Enrico began to speak.

“Senor Torres, you are indeed an old friend of the family. Your late father and I were comrades, almost brothers. But truly your plan is hopeless. To storm the jail is truly madness. Just look at the thickness of the walls.”

Torres briefly apologized and departed for San Antonio.

“What have you against Senor Torres? Why did you reject his plan and anger him?” Leoncia demanded of Francis.

“Nothing,” was the answer, “except that we do not need him. He is a fool and he will spoil any plan. And we just don’t need him. Now his plan is all right. We’ll go straight to the jail and take Henry out. And we don’t need to trust to rascals. Six men of us can do it.”

“There is a dozen guards at the jail,” Ricardo[38], Leoncia’s youngest brother, a lad of eighteen, objected.

Leoncia frowned at him; but Francis said,

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But we will eliminate the guards.”

“The five-foot walls,” said Martinez Solano[39], twin brother to Alvarado[40].

“That’s what I mean. Do you, Senor Solano, have plenty of saddle horses[41]? Good. And you, Alesandro[42], can you bring me a couple of sticks of dynamite? Good. And do you have some bottles of rye whiskey?”