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But his eyes are too deep in his head for my taste. I didn’t like it. It reminded me of a certain very severe priest who used to come to our village when I was young; younger even than your marvel, Dominic.” “It was no priest in disguise, Madame Léonore,” I said, amused by her expression of disgust. “That’s an American.” “Ah! Un Americano! Well, never mind him. It was her that I went to see.”
"Wait two hours, then you may have a good chance of paying off the score." "And I will, too, with greater interest than even usurer charged his hapless client. I wonder which room the cursed Americano sleeps in." "The third room on the right-hand side of the first corridor, where you ascend the great staircase."
He was an Americano, a cursed Gringo for whom long years ago the sheriffs of California and Nevada had chased in vain, who had sought refuge and a mate in Sonora, and whose swarthy features found no difficulty in masquerading under a Mexican name when the language of love had made him familiar with the Mexican tongue.
"But who are these?" he said, pointing to two figures who now appeared upon the trail. Antonio turned. "It is the Americano, Señor Cranch, and his adopted daughter, the mestiza Juanita, seeking your reverence, methinks." "Ah!" said Father Pedro. Cranch came forward and greeted the priest cordially.
The lad who was driving looked up, and flashed a row of white teeth in a smile of reassurance to his mistress. "It is Pedro, doña. He tried to ride that horse Teddy, and it threw him. Before it could kill him, the Americano jumped in and saved his life." "What American?" she asked quickly: but already she knew by the swift beating of her heart.
"Carrambo!" exclaimed he, as he tendered the garment, "take it, Americano! You maybe able to repay me when you have recovered your possible-sack from the Arapahoes. Mira!" he added, pointing towards the tents "your breakfast is ready: yonder the senorita is calling you.
Powerful enough to have been tyrannical oppressors, they were singularly tolerant and gentle, contenting themselves with a playful, good-natured irreverence, which tormented the good father more than opposition. They were felt to be dangerous and subversive. The Americano, however, who stood before him did not offensively suggest these national qualities.
What is more, they failed to raise a voice against its execution upon the innocent as well as upon the guilty, in gross violation of the most elemental principles of justice and rules of law. Thus the Americano, put to the test, gave the lie to what is probably his proudest boast, and revealed the chronic human incapacity for accurate self-analysis.
"If you have no objection, Señor Americano, I will let my horse picket awhile, and rest myself; for I have ridden many miles since sunrise, and not a blessed 'barego' have I smelled." "You are at liberty to rest as long as you please: consult your own inclinations." And he turned away to his own horse, yet marked that the newcomer dismounted with some difficulty.
Poor souls! they shall drink that pleasant morning away in the society of Antonino the best of Neapolitans, and at midnight, emptied of every soldo, shall arise, wrung with a fearful suspicion of treachery, and wander away under Antonino's guidance to seek the protection of the Consul; or, taking the law into their own hands, shall proceed to clean out, more Americano, the New York Coffee House, when Antonino shall develop into one of the landlords, and deal them the most artistic stab in Naples: handsome, worthy Antonino; tender-eyed, subtle, pitiless!
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