United States or Panama ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Here the curate went on to relate briefly his brother's adventure with Zoraida; to all which the Judge gave such an attentive hearing that he never before had been so much of a hearer.
How do you know she isn't what I called her, the infamous dancing woman with an evil record a mile long?" "Haven't I talked with her?" Kendric grew impatient. "Haven't I seen her terror? Haven't I looked into her eyes?" "Haven't I talked with Zoraida?" countered Bruce. "Haven't I heard her explanations? Haven't I seen her terror of Rios? Haven't I looked into her eyes?"
He turned and saw the hangings parted at that spot where Zoraida had appeared to him that other time; one of the brutish, squat forms which Kendric remembered, stood in the opening. Zoraida spoke with the man swiftly, her voice hard and sharp. A quick change came into the heavy, thick-lipped face; the stupid eyes brightened; the face was distorted as by some hideous anticipation.
She, the renegade, and the captive stayed at the house of the returned Christian, and the rest were quartered throughout the town. After six days the renegade departed for Granada to restore himself to the Church through the means of the Holy Inquisition. One by one the other captives left for their own homes, and finally only Zoraida and he himself remained.
They wore loose white cotton robes; their beards fell on their aged breasts; in their sashes were long knives of itztli, like that upon the sacrificial stone. They might have been the old priests who sacrificed for the Tezcucan, their existences prolonged eternally here in an atmosphere of antiquity. Zoraida spoke and they straightened, and one man answered. Kendric could not understand a word.
The old man was alarmed and Zoraida too, for the Moors commonly, and, so to speak, instinctively have a dread of the Turks, but particularly of the soldiers, who are so insolent and domineering to the Moors who are under their power that they treat them worse than if they were their slaves.
He had kept his word and returned to his prison like a good dog; what reason why he should not take advantage of what appeared an unusual opportunity and make his attempt at escape? Zoraida would not have counted on his returning so early; he carried a revolver under his arm pit and hidden in the garden was a rifle.
The maid who had brought him the paper was offering pen and ink. He accepted and wrote swiftly: "Jim Kendric." "Has Barlow breakfasted yet?" he asked, returning to his coffee. "An hour ago, Señor. He has gone out." "Alone?" "No, señor. With La Señorita Zoraida." "Hm," said Kendric. "And Rios? And Escobar?" "Señor Rios went to bed late; it is his custom, señor."
Rather it looked more joyous, more boyish and glad than Kendric had seen it for years. The boy hardly noted anyone in the room but Zoraida. His eyes were for her alone and they were on fire with adoration. "You!" cried Kendric in amazement as his look went swiftly from Bruce's radiant face to Zoraida's and back to Bruce. "With her!" Young Bruce West advanced eagerly.
Having done so I went and gave an account of all that had taken place to the renegade and my comrades, and looked forward with impatience to the hour when, all fear at an end, I should find myself in possession of the prize which fortune held out to me in the fair and lovely Zoraida.
Word Of The Day