Читать книгу The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley - Reid Mayne - Страница 15

As a rule, people of melancholy temperament, or with a sorrow at the heart, give way to it within doors in the privacy of their own apartments. The daughter of Don Ignacio had been more often taught to assuage hers upon the house-top, to which she was accustomed to ascend daily, staying there for hours alone. For this she had opportunity; her father, busied with State affairs, spending most of his time – at least during the diurnal hours – at Government headquarters in the Palacio.

On this day, however, Luisa Valverde mounted up to the azotea with feelings, and under an impulse, very different from that hitherto actuating her. Her behaviour, too, was different. When she made her way up and took stand inside the mirador, her eyes, instead of wandering all around, or resting dreamily on the landscape, with no care for its attractions, were turned in a particular direction, and became fixed upon a single point. This was where the road, running from the city to Tacubaya, alongside the aqueduct of Chapultepec, parts from the latter, diverging abruptly to the left. Beyond this point the causeway, carried on among maguey plants, and Peruvian pepper trees, cannot be seen from the highest house-top in the city.

Why on this day, more than any other, did the young lady direct her glance to the bend in the road, there keeping it steadfast? For what reason was the expression upon her countenance so different from that of other days? No listless look now; instead, an earnest eager gaze, as though she expected to see some one whose advent was of the greatest interest to her. It could only be the coming of some one, as one going would have been long since visible by the side of the aqueduct.

And one she did expect to come that way; no grand cavalier on prancing steed, but a simple pedestrian – in short, her own servant. She had sent him on an errand to Tacubaya, and was now watching for, and awaiting his return. It was the nature of his errand which caused her to look for him so earnestly.

On no common business had he been despatched, but one of a confidential character, and requiring tact in its execution. But José, a mestizo whom she had commissioned, possessed this, besides having her confidence, and she had no fear of his betraying her. Not that it was a life or death matter; only a question of delicacy. For his errand was to inquire, whether among the Texan prisoners taken to Tacubaya one was called Florence Kearney.

As it was now the third day after their arrival in Mexico, it may be wondered why the young lady had not sought this information before. The explanation is easy. Her father owned a country house in the environs of San Augustine, some ten miles from the city; and there staying she had only the day before heard that the captive train, long looked-for, had at length arrived. Soon as hearing it, she had hastened her return to town, and was now taking steps to ascertain whether her lover still lived.

She did not think of making inquiry at the Acordada, though a rumour had reached her that some of the prisoners were there. But surely not Don Florencio! If alive, it was not likely he would be thus disgraced: at least she could not believe it. Little dreamt she of the malice that was moving, and in secret, to degrade in her eyes the man who was uppermost in her thoughts.

And as little suspected she when one of the house domestics came upon the azotea and handed her a large ornamental envelope, bearing the State arms, that it was part of the malignant scheme.

Breaking it open she drew out an embossed and gilded card – a ticket. It came from the Dictator, inviting Doña Luisa Valverde to be present in a grand procession, which was to take place on the following day; intimating, moreover, that one of the State carriages would be at the disposal of herself and party.

There were but few ladies in the city of Mexico who would not have been flattered by such an invitation; all the more from the card bearing the name, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, signed by himself, with the added phrase “con estima particular.”

But little cared she for the flattery. Rather did it cause her a feeling of disgust, with something akin to fear. It was not the first time for the ruler of Mexico to pay compliments and thus press his attentions upon her.

Soon as glanced over, she let the despised thing fall, almost flinging it at her feet; and once more bent her eyes upon the Tacubaya Road, first carrying her glance along the side of the aqueduct to assure herself that her messenger had not in the meanwhile rounded the corner.

He had not, and she continued to watch impatiently; the invitation to ride in the State carriage being as much out of her mind as though she had never received it.

Not many minutes longer before being intruded on. This time, however, by no domestic; instead a lady – like herself, young and beautiful, but beauty of an altogether different style. Though of pure Spanish descent, Luisa Valverde was a güera; her complexion bright, with hair of sunny hue. Such there are in Mexico, tracing their ancestry to the shores of Biscay’s famous bay.

She who now appeared upon the azotea was dark; her skin showing a tinge of golden brown, with a profusion of black hair plaited and coiled as a coronet around her head. A crayon-like shading showed upon her upper lip – which on that of a man would have been termed a moustache – rendering whiter by contrast teeth already of dazzling whiteness; while for the same reason, the red upon her cheeks was of the deep tint of a damask rose. The tones of all, however, were in perfect harmony; and distributed over features of the finest mould produced a face in which soft feminine beauty vied with a sort of savage picturesqueness, making it piquantly attractive.

It was altogether a rare bewitching face; part of its witchery being due to the raza Andalusiana– and beyond that the Moriscan – but as much of it coming from the ancient blood of Anahuac – possibly from the famed Malinche herself. For the young lady delineated was the Condes Almonté – descended from one of Conquistadors who had wedded an Aztec princess – the beautiful Ysabel Almonté whose charms were at the time the toast of every cercle in Mexico.