As the young girl drew near, I stepped towards her—pointing to my lips, and making sign that I wished to drink. The action did not alarm her. On the contrary, she stopped; and, smiling kindly on the thirsty savage, offered the can—raising it up before her. I took the vessel in my hands, holding the little billet conspicuous between my stained fingers. Conspicuous only to her: for from all other eyes the can concealed it—even from those of the bizarre duenna, who had faced round and was still standing near. Not a word escaped me, as I pretended to drink. I only nodded towards the paper as I raised the vessel to my lips.
Ah! that weird instinct of a woman’s heart—a woman who loves! How pleasant to watch its subtle play, when we know that it is exerted in our favour! I saw not the action, nor yet the emotion that may have been depicted on that radiant face. My eyes were averted. I dared not trust them to watch the effect. I only knew that the can was taken from my hands—the paper along with it; and, like a dream, the fair water-carrier passed from before me—leaving me alone upon the spot! My eyes followed the receding form, now side by side with that of the chiding guardian. Together they entered the corral—Lilian upon the nearer side; but, as the maiden’s face disappeared behind the sombre shadow of the waggons, a glance given back through those shining tresses convinced me that my scheme had succeeded!
Chapter One Hundred.
A Sister’s Appeal.
I hastened to inform Marian of what had passed—having returned to the tents, without giving any sign of the excitement that was stirring within my breast. Why not to-night? Why not at once—within the hour? These were my reflections, put interrogatively, as I hurried over the ground. The huntress still remained within her tent; but, enjoying the fraternal privilege, I could enter; and, stooping, I passed under the covering of skins.
“You have seen sister Lilian!” she said, affirmatively, as I entered.
“I have.”
“And spoken with her?”