Left to herself, perhaps she would have attempted it. Watched by a father whose suspicions are already awakened; by a near relation, equally interested in preserving her spotless, before the eyes of the world—she has no opportunity for the act of imprudence.
She can only stay at home; now shut up in her solitary chamber, solaced by the remembrance of those ravings to which she had listened upon the Alamo; now upon the azotea, cheered by the recollection of that sweet time spent among the mezquite trees, the spot itself almost discernible, where she had surrendered the proudest passion of her heart; but saddened by the thought that he to whom she surrendered it is now humiliated—disgraced—shut up within the walls of a gaol—perchance to be delivered from it only unto death!
To her it was happy tidings, when, upon the morning of the fourth day, Zeb Stump made his appearance at Casa del Corro, bringing the intelligence; that the “hoss-sogers hed kum back to the Fort.”
There was significance in the news thus ungrammatically imparted.
There was no longer a danger of the perpetration of that foul act hitherto apprehended: a prisoner taken from his guards, not for rescue, but ruin!
“Ee needn’t be uneezy ’beout thet ere ewent,” said Zeb, speaking with a confidence he had not shown for some time. “Thur’s no longer a danger o’ it comin’ to pass, Miss Lewaze. I’ve tuk preecaushins agin it.”
“Precautions!
How, Zeb?”
“Wal; fust place, I’ve seed the major clost arter his comin’ back, an gied him a bit o’ my mind.
I tolt him the hul story, as fur’s I know it myself.
By good luck he ain’t agin the young fellur, but the tother way I reck’n.
Wal, I tolt him o’ the goin’s on o’ the hul crew—Amerikins, Mexikins, an all o’ them—not forgettin’ thet ugly Spanyard o’ the name o’ Dee-ez, thet’s been one o’ the sarciest o’ the lot.
The ree-sult’s been thet the major hez doubled the sentries roun’ the prison, an’s goin’ to keep ’em doubled.”
“I am so glad!
You think there is no longer any fear from that quarter?”
“If you mean the quarter o’ Mister Migooel Dee-ez, I kin swar to it.
Afore he thinks o’ gittin’ any b’dy else out o’ a prison, he’s got to git hisself out.”
“What; Diaz in prison!
How?
When?
Where?”
“You’ve asked three seprit questyuns, Miss Lewaze, all o’ a heep.
Wal; I reck’n the conveenientest way to answer ’em ’ll be to take ’em backurds.
An’ fust as to the whar.
As to thet, thur’s but one prison in these parts, as ’ud be likely to hold him.
Thet is the guard-house at the Fort.
He’s thur.”
“Along with—”
“I know who ye’re goin’ to name—the young fellur.
Jest so.
They’re in the same buildin’, tho’ not ’zackly in the same room.
Thur’s a purtition atween ’em; tho’ for thet matter they kin convarse, ef they’re so inclined.
Thur’s three others shet up along wi’ the Mexikin—his own cussed cummarades.
The three ’ll have somethin’ to talk ’beout ’mong themselves, I reck’n.”
“This is good news, Zeb.
You told me yesterday that Diaz was active in—”
“Gittin’ hisself into a scrape, which he hev been successful in effectuatin’.
He’s got hisself into the jug, or someb’y else hev did thet bizness for him.”
“But how—when—you’ve not told me?”
“Geehosophat! Miss Lewaze.
Gi’ me a leetle time. I hain’t drew breath yit, since I kim in.
Yur second questyun war when.
It air eezy answered. ’Beout a hour agone thet ere varmint wur trapped an locked up.
I war at the shettin’ o’ the door ahint him, an kum straight custrut hyur arter it war done.”
“But you have not yet said why he is arrested.”
“I hain’t hed a chance.
It air a longish story, an ’ll take a leetle time in the tellin’.
Will ye listen to it now, or arter—?”
“After what, Mr Stump?”
“Wal, Miss Lewaze, I only meened arter—arter—I git the ole mare put up.