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Updated: June 19, 2025
I'll never forget what you done. Poor husband's last words before he was shot was thanking the Lord Miss Margaritty was off safe. We knew we could trust her with you." "Indeed," said honest Delmonte, "it is not me you must thank, Donna Prudencia. I did what I could, but it was Captain Montfort and his men who saved both her life and mine."
But as for being big, you should see Lanky 'Liph of Bone Gulch. Now there but here is your horse, missy." The horses of the dead Spaniards had been circling about them, more or less shyly. Two of them were quickly caught by the rough riders, and Rita and Delmonte mounted. As they did so, both glanced toward the spot where lay the brave horse that had borne them so well.
She's quick, and she's quiet, and she's cheerful; and she has brains in her head, which is a mighty good thing in a woman when you do find it. She and Señora Delmonte are like mother and daughter already; and this brings me to something else I want to say. It's pretty clear that Jack Delmonte has lost his heart to this little girl of ours.
Juan Pablo Duarte, the liberator, Antonio Delmonte y Tejada, the historian, and a small group of others who flourished shortly before or at the time of the establishment of the Republic, may be said to initiate the literature of the country, but their fame is mostly local.
Pah! pah! another puff of dust, and splinters flew from a tree just beyond them. Aquila twitched his ears and stretched his long neck, and they felt the stride quicken under them. The road rushed by; they were half-way to the turn. "Would you like to hold the reins for a bit?" asked Delmonte. "It isn't really necessary, but thanks! that's very nice." What was he doing?
Gratefully yours, JOHN DELMONTE. LAS ROSAS, Evening. DEAREST, DEAREST MARGARET: Why are you not here? I want you oh, I want you so much! I am so happy, so wonderfully, almost terribly happy, how can I put it on paper? The paper will light itself, will burn up for joy, I think; but I will try. Listen! an hour ago it is an evening of heaven, the moon was shining for me, for me and oh, but wait!
Half nay! a quarter of an hour ago, she was riding with him; there were only they two in the world, they and Aquila, poor Aquila, who had given his life for theirs. She was his comrade then, his charge, his and now she was Miss Montfort, a young lady of fortune and position, under charge of her cousin, a Yankee captain of rough riders; and he, Jack Delmonte, was nothing in particular.
At sight of the mounted troop, they stopped and held a hurried consultation, then turned their horses and rode away. The giant looked at Delmonte. "Want to follow?" he asked. "This is your hand, comrade." "I want a horse!" said Captain Jack. "Miss Montfort," he turned to Rita, who had risen to her feet, and stood pale but quiet, "these are our own good country-men.
No sound was heard save the muffled beat of the horse's hoofs on the sand, and behind, the shouts and cries of their pursuers. Were they growing louder, those shouts? Were they gaining, or was the distance between them widening? Rita turned her head once to look back. "I wouldn't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Do you mind, Miss Montfort, if I swing you round in front of me?
Rita saw no more, for Delmonte, grasping her hand firmly, led her through the winding passage and into the inner courtyard. Pausing a moment on the verandah, they looked through the archway at one side, through which streamed a red glare. The cane patch was on fire, and blazing fiercely.
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