Вершник без голови

Chapter 46

           Therewasnothingclandestineinthemeeting,nothingdesigned.Itwasasimplecontingency,ZebStumphavingjustcomeinfromhisstalkingexcursion,bringingtothehaciendaaportionofthe"plunder"—ashewaswonttotermit—procuredbyhisunerringrifle.

           OfcoursetoZebStump,LouisePoindexterwasathome.Shewaseveneagerfortheinterview—soeager,astohavekepalmostacontinualwatchalongtheriverroad,allthedaybefore,fromtherisingtothesettingofthesun.

           Hervigil,resumedonthedepartureofthenoisycrowd,wassoonafterrewardedbythesightofthehunter,mountedonhisoldmare—thelatterladenwiththespoilsofthechase—slowlymovingalongtheroadontheoppositesideoftheriver,andmanifestlymakingforthehacienda.

           Agladsighttoher—thatrude,butgrandshapeofcolossalmanhood.Sherecognisedinittheformofatruefriend—towhosekeepingshecouldsafelyentrusthermostsecretconfidence.Andshehadnowsuchasecrettoconfidetohim;thatforanightandadayhadbeenpainfullypentupwithinherbosom.

           LongbeforeZebhadsetfootupontheflaggedpavementofthepatio,shehadgoneoutintotheverandahtoreceivehim.

           Theairofsmilingnonchalancewithwhichheapproached,proclaimedhimstillignorantoftheeventwhichhadcastitsmelancholyshadowoverthehouse.Therewasjustperceptibletheslightestexpressionofsurprise,atfindingtheoutergateshut,chained,andbarred.

           Ithadnotbeenthecustomofthehacienda—atleastduringitspresentproprietary.

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