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Updated: May 10, 2025
As one seems to have arisen, I think the hidden treasure may now be produced." Saying this, the colonel steps out of the room, soon returning with a large calabash bottle. Conchita is summoned, and directed to bring drinking cups, which she does. Miranda, pouring out the wine says, "This will cheer us; and, in truth, we all need cheering.
Then, advancing towards the girl, he flings his great arms around her, lifts her from the ground as if she were a child's doll; presses her to his broad, throbbing breast, and imprints a kiss upon her lips the concussion of which can be heard far beyond the borders of the cottonwood copse. However successful in his suit with Conchita, Walt Wilder is not without a rival.
You're old enough to become a Benedict, and Conchita appears to be just the sort of girl that would suit you. I've heard it said that these Mexican women make the best of wives when married to Americans." Hamersley smiles, as though this thought were pleasant to him.
"No one in all Russia will look so grand in court dress as our Conchita," said Elena loyally. "But I doubt if it is the dress and the state she thinks of losing to-day. She will not talk even to me of him Ay yi! she grows more reserved every day, our Concha! except to say she will wed him when he returns, and that I know, for did not I witness the betrothal?
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.
You know, Conchita, this gentleman has been in great danger. Thanks to the good Virgin, he'll get over it. Don Prospero assures us he will." "What a pity if he should not! Oh, senorita, isn't he " "Isn't he what?" "Handsome beautiful! He looks like a picture I've seen in the church; an angel only that the angel had wings, and no mustachios."
Walt is still ignorant of the peon's partiality for his own sweetheart. He has had a suspicion of something, but not the deep, dire passion that burns in the Indian's heart. Aware of this, he would not dwell on the probability of the man having any intention, any more than himself, remain behind now that Conchita is gone.
On the contrary, she can confide in him for that, and does fully, trustingly. Her fears are from a far different cause; the danger he is about to dare. Conchita, in like manner, though in less degree, has her apprehensions. The great Colossus who has captured her heart, and been promised her hand, may never return to claim it.
She forbears speaking the word that would explain her terrible apprehension. Without waiting for it, Conchita rejoins "If they kill you, they may do the same with me. Dear duena, I'm ready to die with you." The duena, deeply affected by this proffer of devotion, flings her white arms around the neck of her brown-skinned maid, and imprints upon her brow a kiss, speaking heartfelt gratitude.
Go get the wine, and bring it along with you. The doctor left directions for it to be given him at this hour." "I have it here, senorita." "Vaya! you have forgotten the glass. You would not have him drink out of the bottle?" "Ay Dios! and so I have," responds Conchita, apparently gliding off to possess herself of the required article, with which she soon returns.
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