Of himself, he is strong enough to take it; and feels so, after being refreshed by another drink of the whiskey. The spirit of the alcohol, acting on his own, reinvigorates, and makes him ready for immediate action. He but stays to think what may be his safest course, as the surest and swiftest. His repeated repulses, while making more cautious, have done nought to daunt, or drive him from his original purpose. Recalling his latest interview with Helen Armstrong, and what he then said, he dares not swerve from it. To go back leaving it undone, were a humiliation no lover would like to confess to his sweetheart.
But he has no thought of going back, and only hesitates, reflecting on the steps necessary to ensure success.
He now knows why Darke retreated in such wild affright. Some speeches passing between the robbers, overheard by Jupiter, and by him reported, enable Clancy to grasp the situation. As he had conjectured, Darke was straying, and by chance came that way. No wonder at the way he went.
It is not an hour since he fled from the spot, and in all likelihood he is still straying. If so, he cannot be a great way off; but, far or near, Brasfort can find him.
It is but a question of whether he can be overtaken before reaching the rendezvous. For the only danger of which Clancy has dread, or allows himself to dwell upon, is from the other robbers. Even of these he feels not much fear. But for the mulatto and his mule, he would never have allowed them to lay hand on him. And now with his splendid horse once more by his side, the saddle awaiting him, he knows he will be safe from any pursuit by mounted men, as a bird upon the wing.
For the safety of his faithful follower he has already conceived measures. Jupiter is to make his way back to the San Saba, and wait for him at their old camp, near the crossing. Failing to come, he is to proceed on to the settlement, and there take his chances of a reception. Though the fugitive slave may be recognised, under Sime Woodley’s protection he will be safe, and with Helen Armstrong’s patronage, sure of hospitable entertainment.
With all this mentally arranged, though not yet communicated to Jupe, Clancy gives a look to his gun to assure himself it is in good order; another to the caparison of his horse; and, satisfied with both, he at length leaps into the saddle.
The mulatto has been regarding his movements with uneasiness. There is that in them which forewarns him of still another separation.
He is soon made aware of it, by the instructions given him, in accordance with the plan sketched cat. On Clancy telling him, he is to return to the San Saba alone, with the reasons why he should do so, he listens in pained surprise.
“Sure you don’t intend leavin’ me, Masser Charle?”