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I must learn whether the women vote, or in any way take part in the government. If so, these Indians are vastly our superiors, and we must sit humbly at their feet." During this talk the worn and wounded Thurstane had been lying asleep. He now appeared from his dormitory, nodded a hasty good-morning, and pushed for the door. "Train's all right," said Glover. "Jest took a squint at it.
The walls of the cañon, scarcely fifty yards apart and more stupendous than ever, rose in precipices without a landing-place or a foothold. So far as eye could pierce into the twilight of the sublime chasm, there was not a spot where the boat could be arrested in its flight, or where a swimmer could find a shelf of safety. "It is a rapid," said Thurstane.
It was now more than a week since he had offered himself, and in that time she had made no sign which indicated her purpose. He had looked at her and sighed at her without getting a response of any sort. This could not go on; he must know how she felt towards him; he must know how much, she cared for Thurstane. How else could he decide what to do with her and with him?
Thurstane, an infantryman, and only a fair equestrian, would not have been half so effective in this combat of caballeros. Coronado's first bullet knocked a villainous-looking tatterdemalion clean into the happy hunting grounds.
Forgetting that no lamp was shining upon him, and that she probably had no cause for expecting to find him here, Thurstane believed that she had discovered who he was and that her mute gesture confirmed his rejection. Under this throttling of his last hope he made no protest, but silently wished himself on the battle-field, falling with his face to the foe.
Even if he could have resolved to kill Clara, there was no longer anything to be gained by it, for her money would not descend to Coronado. Even if he should kill Thurstane, that would be a harm rather than a benefit, for his widow would hate Coronado. If he did any evil deed now, it must be from jealousy or from vindictiveness. Was murder of any kind worth while?
Just now, when we have just been spared to each other, don't let us be angry. I spoke angrily first. Forgive me." "Let him keep out of my way," muttered Thurstane, only in part pacified. "Yes," answered Clara, thinking that she would herself send Coronado off, so that there might be no duel between him and this dear one.
Not a bugger in the hull crew been nigh 'em." Thurstane cantered around to the front of the wagon which contained the two women, and called, "How are you?" At the sound of his voice there was a rustle inside, and Clara showed her face over the shoulder of the driver. "So you were not hurt?" laughed the young officer. "Ah! that's bully."
"It is a gloomy prospect," muttered Coronado, thinking of the hundred miles of rocky desert, and of the possibility that Apaches might be ambushed at the end of it. He had been so anxious about himself for a few days that he had cared for little else. He had been humble, submissive to Thurstane, and almost entirely indifferent about Clara.
"Only twenty miles more to the river." "The river! It seems to me that I could live if I could see a river. Oh, this desert! These perpetual rocks! Not a green thing to cool one's eyes. Not a drop of water. I seem to be drying up, like a worm in the sunshine." "Is there no water in the flasks?" asked Thurstane. "Yes," said Clara. "But my aunt is feverish with fatigue."
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