Томас Майн Рид: Всадник без головы / The Headless Horseman

In contrast with the cheerful brightness of the sky, there was a shadow upon her brow.

“He may be dangerously wounded – perhaps even to death? I may not send to inquire. I dare not even ask after him. He may be in some poor place – perhaps neglected? Would that I could convey to him a message without any one knowing it! I wonder what has become of Zeb Stump?”

The young lady scanned the road leading towards Fort Inge. Zeb Stump should come that way. He was not in sight; nor was any one else. She looked at the plain in the opposite quarter and saw a horse stepping out from among the trees. He was ridden by one, who, at first sight, appeared to be a man, dressed in a sort of Arab costume; but who, on closer scrutiny, was unquestionably of the other sex – a lady.

The loosely falling folds of the lady’s scarf didn’t hinder the observer from coming to the conclusion, that her figure was quite as attractive as her face.

The man following upon the mule by his costume – as well as the respectful distance observed – was evidently an attendant.

“Who can that woman be?” was the muttered interrogatory of Louise Poindexter, as with quick action she raised the lorgnette to her eyes. “A Mexican, of course; the man on the mule her servant. Some grand senora, I suppose? A basket carried by the attendant. I wonder what it contains; and what errand she can have to the Port – it may be the village. It is the third time I’ve seen her passing within this week? She must be from some of the plantations below!”

There came a change over the countenance of the Creole, quick as a drifting cloud darkens the disc of the sun.

The cause could only be looked for in the movements of the scarfed equestrian on the other side of the river. An antelope had sprung up, out of some low shrubbery growing by the roadside. The woman with her scarf suddenly flung from her face, was seen describing, with her right arm, a series of circular sweeps in the air!

“What is the woman going to do?” was the muttered interrogatory of the spectator upon the house-top. “Ha! As I live, it is a lazo!”

The senora was not long in giving proof of skill in the use of the lazo – by flinging its noose around the antelope’s neck, and throwing the creature in its tracks!

It was at that moment – when the lazo was seen circling in the air – that the shadow had reappeared upon the countenance or the Creole. It was not surprise that caused it, but a thought far more unpleasant.

“I wonder – oh, I wonder if it is she! My own age, he said – not quite so tall. The description suits – so far as one may judge at this distance. Has her home on the Rio Grande. Comes occasionally to the Leona, to visit some relatives. Why did I not ask him the name? I wonder – oh, I wonder if it is she!”

It was a relief to Louise Poindexter, when a horseman appeared coming out of the chapparal; [30]a still greater relief, when he was recognised, through the lorgnette, as Zeb Stump the hunter.

“The man I was wanting to see!” she exclaimed in joyous accents. “He can bear me a message; and perhaps tell who she is. He must have met her on the road.”

“Dear Mr Stump!” called a voice, to which the old hunter delighted to listen. “I’m so glad to see you. Dismount, and come up here!”

Zeb was soon upon the housetop; where he was once more welcomed by the young mistress of the mansion.

She asked him about Maurice, and Zeb told her that the mustanger didn’t have any dangerous wounds and would be all right in a couple of days. When Louise learned that after the duel Maurice was staying at the hotel she said she wished to send something to him.

“Stay here, Mr Stump, till I come up to you again.”

The young lady lightly descended the stone stairway. Presently she reappeared – bringing with her a good-sized hamper; which was evidently filled with eatables.

“Now dear old Zeb, you will take this to Mr Gerald? It’s only some little things that Florinda has put up, such as sick people at times have a craving for. They are not likely to be kept in the hotel. Don’t tell him where they come from – neither him, nor any one else.”

“You may depend on Zeb Stump for that, Miss Louise. Though, for the matter of cakes and kickshaws, and all that sort of thing, the mustanger hasn’t had much reason to complain. He has been supplied with enough of them.”

“Supplied already! By whom?”

“Well, I can’t inform you, Miss Louise; Maurice doesn’t know it himself. I only heard they were fetched to the tavern in baskets, by some sort of a serving-man, a Mexican. I’ve seen the man myself. Fact, I’ve just this minute met him, riding after a woman. He had a basket just like one Maurice had got already.”

There was no need to trouble Zeb Stump with further cross-questioning. A whole history was supplied by that single speech. The case was painfully clear. In the regard of Maurice Gerald, Louise Poindexter had a rival – perhaps something more. The lady of the lazo was either his fiancée, or his mistress!

For the first time in her life Louise Poindexter felt the pangs of jealousy. It was her first real love: for she was in love with Maurice Gerald.

The mistress of Casa del Corvo could not rest, till she had satisfied herself on this score. As soon as Zeb Stump had taken his departure, she ordered the spotted mare to be saddled; and, riding out alone, she sought the crossing of the river; and thence proceeded to the highway on the opposite side.

Advancing in the direction of the Fort, as she expected, she soon encountered the Mexican senora on her return; no senora according to the exact signification of the term, but a senorita – a young lady, not older than herself.

Good breeding permitted only a glance at her in passing; which was returned by a like courtesy on the part of the stranger.

“Beautiful!” said Louise, after passing her supposed rival upon the road. “Yes; too beautiful to be his friend! I cannot have any doubt,” continued she, “of the relationship that exists between them – He loves her! – he loves her! It accounts for his cold indifference to me?

1) How did Calhoun feel after his defeat? What plan was he maturing?

2) Who is Miguel Diaz? Why did he dislike Maurice Gerald?

3) Where did Maurice stay after the duel? Who supplied him with delicacies?

4) How did Louise feel after she’d learned who it was? Why?

During the three days that followed that unpleasant discovery, once again had she seen – from the housetop as before – the lady of the lazo, as before accompanied by her attendant with the basket.

She knew more now about her rival, though not much. The Dona Isidora Covarubio de los Llanos – daughter of a wealthy landowner, who lived upon the Rio Grande, and niece to another whose estate lay upon the Leona, a mile beyond the boundaries of her father’s new purchase. An eccentric young lady, as some thought, who could throw a lazo, tame a wild steed, or anything else excepting her own caprices.

One day Louise was upon the azotea, looking towards the quarter whence the senorita might have been expected to come.

On turning her eyes in the opposite direction, she beheld – that which caused her something more than surprise. She saw Maurice Gerald, mounted on horseback, and riding down the road!

On recognising him, she shrank behind the parapet.

The invalid was convalescent. He no longer needed to be visited by his nurse.

Cowering behind the parapet Louise Poindexter watched the passing horseman. She felt some slight gratification on observing that he turned his face at intervals and fixed his regard upon Casa del Corvo. It was increased, when on reaching a copse, that stood by the side of the road, and nearly opposite the house, he reined up behind the trees, and for a long time remained in the same spot, as if reconnoitring the mansion.