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 faggots. 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 muffles 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 assurance 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.