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Updated: June 23, 2025
I could not deny that I was both the one and the other. "You need refreshment, gentlemen; will you come to my house?" "Permit me, Senor, to introduce you to Major Blossom Lieutenant Clayley Lieutenant Oakes: Don Cosme Rosales, gentlemen." My friends and the Don bowed to each other. The major had now recovered his complacency. "Vamonos, caballeros!"
"Likely to noon and breakfast that on the ridge was only their desayuna. The Mexicans of the tierra caliente never travel during mid-day. They will doubtless rest here until the cool of the evening." "I trust they will extend the same favour to us," said Clayley: "God knows we stand in need of rest. I'd give them three months' pay for an hour upon the treadmill, only to stretch my limbs."
"Give it first to the captin, misthress," said Chane, pointing to me; "sarve all ayqually, but respict rank." The woman understood the sign, and handed me the jar. I drank copiously, passing it to my comrades, Clayley and Raoul. Chane at length took the jar; but instead of drinking immediately, as might have been expected, he set it between his knees and looked quizzically up at the woman.
Not ten steps beyond this we passed another one, similarly disfigured. We were now on the neutral ground. As we entered the forest my forebodings became painfully oppressive. I imparted them to Clayley. My friend had been occupied with similar thoughts. "It is just possible," said he, "that nobody has found the way.
"Try this, Clayley. Perhaps your eyes are better than mine." "No," said Clayley, after examining the paper. "I can hardly see the writing upon it." "Esperate mi amo!" We remained motionless. The Mexican took from his head his heavy sombrero, and stepped into a darker recess of the forest. After standing for a moment, hat in hand, a brilliant object shot out from the leaves of the palma redonda.
Upon this luxurious couch we resolved to make a bivouac. We were all worn down by the fatigues of the day and night preceding, and, throwing ourselves upon the grass, in a few minutes were asleep. It was daylight when I awoke broad daylight. My companions, all but Clayley, were already astir, and had kindled a fire with a species of wood known to Raoul, that produced hardly any smoke.
But we are forgetting let us see what's here." I bent my head to the paper, and read in Spanish: "I have made known your situation to the American commander." There was no signature nor other mark upon the paper. "From Don Cosme?" I inquired, in a whisper to the Mexican. "Yes, Senor," was the reply. "And how did you expect to reach us in the corral?" "We have friends here, Clayley.
Clayley, who had been looking back from time to time, brushed alongside, as if wishing to enter into conversation. "Hard work, Captain, to leave such quarters. By Jove! I could have stayed for ever." "Come, Clayley you are in love." "Yes; they who live in glass houses . Oh! if I could only speak the lingo as you do!"
I have met them with an instinct of loathing an instinct of antagonism. "The fellow is likely to be our captain," whispered Clayley, noticing that I observed the man with more than ordinary attention. "By the way," continued he, "I don't half like it. I believe he's an infernal scoundrel." "Such are my impressions. But if that be his character, how can he be elected?"
"Both beautiful, by Jove!" said Clayley; "but of all the women I ever saw, give me `Mary of the Light'!" Love is a rose growing upon a thorny bramble. There is jealousy in the very first blush of a passion. No sooner has a fair face made its impress on the heart than hopes and fears spring up in alternation.
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