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We were doubtful about our reception, for Yajalon was the last town in Valencia's district, and we had no documents to present to the town officials, until we should reach El Salto, the cabecera, except our general letter from Governor Lopez.
He had seen Manuel ride away in the white light of the moon, and he had wondered a little and then had forgotten all about it in the spell of utter loneliness which the moon brings to those who are cheated by Fate from holding what they most desire. "Sure, me." Valencia's tone was convincingly positive. "Manuel, she's go lak hell for tella Señor Jack, José, she's lak for fight duelo. Sure.
Valencia was in wildest delirium for a week; at the end of the second every hair on her head, her brows, and her eyelashes had fallen. She looked like a white mummy, a ghastly pitiful caricature of the beautiful woman whose arrows quivered in so many hearts. They rolled her in a blanket and took her home; and then I sought Chonita, who had barely left her room and never gone to Valencia's.
Only come back, and let me see your face, and hear your voice, instead of leaving me here all alone, and the poor children too! Oh, what shall I say to them to-morrow, when they wake and find no father!" Valencia's indignation had no words.
But soon he became conscious of the perfume of flowers. They were crossing a garden; and as he looked up he saw the figure of Valencia's conqueror on his sinewy charger glistening in the sun. They walked on. The old man began in wailing accents to describe the situation which the Brull House was facing.
He is Valencia's husband now, and rector, not curate, of Aberalva town; and Valencia makes him a noble rector's wife.
At the same time General Persifor Smith conceived the plan of turning Valencia's left, and hastened along the path through the Pedregal in the direction of a village called San Jeronimo. Colonel Riley followed. Pillow sent Cadwallader's brigade on the same line, and later in the day Morgan's regiment was likewise despatched toward that point.
A few minutes afterwards he could hear her romping with them; but he could not have guessed, from the silver din of those merry voices, that Valencia's heart was heavy within her. For her conscience was really smitten. Of what use was she in the world?
The card-sharper, provoked by this discourtesy, got up and, slapping Valencia's sleeve with the back of his hand, he repeated his words, dwelling upon every syllable: "I said that I wanted Paloma, and that these friends of mine want to talk with the lady." "And I tell you that there's nothing doing," answered the other. "Those gentlemen want to talk with her."
One must draw a veil over the too hideous details. No, not her fault: but there, at least, the curse has not come without a cause. For she is Tardrew's daughter. But whither have we got? How long has the cholera been in Aberalva? Five days, five minutes, or five years? How many suns have risen and set since Frank Headley put into his bosom Valencia's pledge!
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