It explains both the praying and the hurried rushing to arms.
The fact that a man has been murdered—a slight circumstance in that land of unbridled emotions—would have produced no such response—more especially when the man was a stranger, an “Americano.”
But the report that Indians are abroad, is altogether a different affair. In it there is an idea of danger.
The effect produced on Isidora is different. It is not fear of the savages. The name of the “asesinado” recalls thoughts that have already given her pain. She knows that there is a sister, spoken of as being wonderfully beautiful. She has herself looked upon this beauty, and cannot help believing in it.
A keener pang proceeds from something else she has heard: that this peerless maiden has been seen in the company of Maurice Gerald. There is no fresh jealousy inspired by the news of the brother’s death—only the old unpleasantness for the moment revived.
The feeling soon gives place to the ordinary indifference felt for the fate of those with whom we have no acquaintance.
Some hours later, and this indifference becomes changed to a painful interest; in short, an apprehension. There are fresh reports about the murder. It has been committed, not by Comanches; but by a white man—by Maurice the mustanger!
There are no Indians near.
This later edition of “novedades,” while tranquilising Don Silvio’s servants, has the contrary effect upon his niece. She cannot rest under the rumour; and half-an-hour afterwards, she is seen reining up her horse in front of the village hotel.
For some weeks, with motive unknown, she has been devoting herself to the study of La lengua Americana. Her vocabulary of English words, still scanty, is sufficient for her present purpose; which is to acquire information, not about the murder, but the man accused of committing it.