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We've got a fair chance o' goin' un'er yet, eyther from thirst or the famishment o' empty stomaks. I'm hungry enuf already to eat a coyat. Thar's a heavy row afore us, Frank, an' we must strengthen our hearts to hoein' o' it. Wall, the sun's up; an' as thar don't appear to be any obstrukshun, I reck'n we'd best be makin' tracks." Hamersley slowly and somewhat reluctantly rises to his feet.
Not to those near him, knowing it would scarce be listened to; but to the man he has much wronged, calling out his name, "Colonel Miranda." On hearing it Don Valerian rushes forth from the tent, his sister by his side, Hamersley with the doctor behind. All stand in front regarding the strange spectacle, of which they have been unconscious, seemingly prepared for them.
One o' 'em'll be enough for what I want, an' let that be myen. Poor critter, it air a pity! But it can't be helped. We must hev some kiver to screen us. Quick, Frank, or the skunks will be on to us!" Painful as it was to abandon his brave steed, Hamersley did as directed without knowing why.
Between lovers, those who truly love, the parting is ever painful Frank Hamersley, taking leave of Adela Miranda, feels this as does Walt Wilder separating from Conchita. There may be a difference in degree, in the intensity of their respective passions; perhaps also something in its character. Still the sentiment is the same. Both suffer at the thought of separation, feel it keenly.
When Walt chances to be indoors, he has companion of his own, which hinder him from too frequently intruding upon his comrade. Enough for him the company of Conchita. Hamersley has equally as little to dread the intrusion of Don Prospero. Absorbed in his favourite study of Nature, the ex-army surgeon passes most of his hours in communion with her.
"True, Don Francisco; but that isn't what I mean." "I reckon I knows what ye mean," interposes the ex-Ranger, rising excitedly from his chair on hearing the Mexican's remark. "It's been my own suspeeshun all along. You know what I tolt ye, Frank?" Hamersley looks interrogatively at his old comrade. "Did I not say," continues Wilder, "that I seed two men 'mong the Injuns wi' ha'r upon thar faces?
It'll be useless venison now, I shan't care no more to put tooth into it myself. Frank Hamersley gone dead the man o' all others I'd 'a died to keep alive. I'd jest as soon lie down an' stop breathin' by the side o' him." While speaking he moves on towards the palmilla. A few strides bring him so near the tree that he can see the ground surface about its base.
Hamersley could not help having vague and varied misgivings; yet among them was one purpose he had already spoken of a determination to return to Albuquerque. "I am sure to be back here," he said, as if the promise was meant to tranquillise the apprehensions of the colonel. Then, changing to a more careless tone, he added,
The rock rested on a bedding of these; hence the exact fit, closing every crack and crevice. On completing his exploration Hamersley returned to his companion below. "Hopeless!" murmured Wilder, despondingly. "No, Walt; I don't think so yet." The Kentuckian, though young, was a man of remarkable intelligence as well as courage.
Her brother had told her all the circumstances that led to his acquaintance with Hamersley; of the duel, and in what a knightly manner the Kentuckian had carried himself; adding his own commentaries in a very flattering fashion.
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