It mattered not, that in passing upwards he again cast regards towards Casa del Corvo; again halted behind the copse, and passed some time in apparent scrutiny of the mansion.
It was but mockery—or exultation. He might well feel triumphant; but why should he be cruel, with kisses upon his lips—the kisses he had received from the Doña Isidora Covarubio de los Llanos?
Chapter Twenty Seven.
I Love You!—I Love You!
Louise Poindexter upon the azotea again—again to be subjected to a fresh chagrin! That broad stone stairway trending up to the housetop, seemed to lead only to spectacles that gave her pain. She had mentally vowed no more to ascend it—at least for a long time. Something stronger than her strong will combatted—and successfully—the keeping of that vow. It was broken ere the sun of another day had dried the dew from the grass of the prairie.
As on the day before, she stood by the parapet scanning the road on the opposite side of the river; as before, she saw the horseman with the slung arm ride past; as before, she crouched to screen herself from observation.
He was going downwards, as on the day preceding. In like manner did he cast long glances towards the hacienda, and made halt behind the clump of trees that grew opposite.
Her heart fluttered between hope and fear. There was an instant when she felt half inclined to show herself. Fear prevailed; and in the next instant he was gone.