"_Yo te amo_!" was the simple reply. Need I describe the joyful feelings that filled my heart at that moment? My happiness was complete.
The confession rendered her sacred in my eyes, and we sat for some time silent, enjoying that transport only known to those who have truly, purely loved.
The trampling of hoofs! It was Clayley at the head of the troop. They were mounted, and waiting for me. Don Cosme was impatient; so was the Dona Joaquina. I could not blame them, knowing the cause.
"Ride forward! I shall follow presently."
The hors.e.m.e.n filed off into the fields, headed by the lieutenant, beside whom rode Don Cosme, on his white mule.
"You will soon return, Enrique?"
"I shall lose no opportunity of seeing you. I shall long for the hour more than you, I fear."
"Oh! no, no!"
"Believe me yes, Lupita! Say again you will never cease to love me."
"Never, never! _Tuya--tuya--hasta la muerte_!" (Yours--yours--till death!)
How often has this question been asked! How often answered as above!
I sprang into the saddle. A parting look--another from a distance--a wave of the hand--and the next moment I was urging my horse in full gallop under the shadowy palms.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
A DISAPPOINTMENT AND A NEW PLAN.
I overtook my companions as they were entering the woods. 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 gla.s.s houses--. Oh! if I could only speak the lingo as you do!"
I could not help smiling, for I had overheard him through the trees making the most he could of his partner"s broken English. I was curious to know how he had sped, and whether he had been as `quick upon the trigger" as myself. My curiosity was soon relieved.
"I tell you, Captain," he continued, "if I could only have talked it, I would have put the question on the spot. I did try to get a `yes" or a `no" out of her; but she either couldn"t or wouldn"t understand me. It was all bad luck."
"Could you not make her understand you? Surely she knows English enough for that?"
"I thought so too; but when I spoke about love she only laughed and slapped me on the face with her fan. Oh, no; the thing must be done in Spanish, that"s plain; and you see I am going to set about it in earnest. She loaned me these."
Saying this, he pulled out of the crown of his foraging-cap a couple of small volumes, which I recognised as a Spanish grammar and dictionary.
I could not resist laughing aloud.
"Comrade, you will find the best dictionary to be the lady herself."
"That"s true; but how the deuce are we to get back again? A mule-hunt don"t happen every day."
"I fancy there will be some difficulty in it."
I had already thought of this. It was no easy matter to steal away from camp--one"s brother-officers are so solicitous about your appearance at drills and parades. Don Cosme"s rancho was at least ten miles from the lines, and the road would not be the safest for the solitary lover. The prospect of frequent returns was not at all flattering.
"Can"t we steal out at night?" suggested Clayley. "I think we might mount half a dozen of our fellows, and do it snugly. What do you say, Captain?"
"Clayley, I cannot return without this brother. I have almost given my word to that effect."
"You have? That is bad! I fear there is no prospect of getting him out as you propose."
My companion"s prophetic foreboding proved but too correct, for on nearing the camp we were met by an aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, who informed me that, on that very morning, all communication between the foreign ships of war and the besieged city had been prohibited.
Don Cosme"s journey, then, would be in vain. I explained this, advising him to return to his family.
"Do not make it known--say that some time is required, and you have left the matter in my hands. Be a.s.sured I shall be among the first to enter the city, and I shall find the boy, and bring him to his mother in safety."
This was the only consolation I could offer.
"You are kind, Capitan--very kind; but I know that nothing can now be done. We can only hope and pray."
The old man had dropped into a bent att.i.tude, his countenance marked by the deepest melancholy.
Taking the Frenchman, Raoul, along with me, I rode back until I had placed him beyond the danger of the straggling plunderer, when we shook hands and parted. As he left me, I turned to look after him. He still sat in that att.i.tude that betokens deep dejection, his shoulders bent forward over the neck of his mule, while he gazed vacantly on the path.
My heart sank at the spectacle, and, sad and dispirited, I rode at a lagging pace towards the camp.
Not a shot had as yet been fired against the town, but our batteries were nearly perfected, and several mortars were mounted and ready to fling in their deadly missiles. I knew that every shot and sh.e.l.l would carry death into the devoted city, for there was not a point within its walls out of range of a ten-inch howitzer. Women and children must perish along with armed soldiers; and the boy--he, too, might be a victim. Would this be the tidings I should carry to his home? And how should I be received by her with such a tale upon my lips? Already had I sent back a sorrowing father.
"Is there no way to save him, Raoul?"
"Captain?" inquired the man, starting at the vehemence of my manner.
A sudden thought had occurred to me.
"Are you well acquainted with Vera Cruz?"
"I know every street, Captain."
"Where do those arches lead that open from the sea? There is one on each side of the mole."
I had observed these when visiting a friend, an officer of the navy, on board his ship.
"They are conductors, Captain, to carry off the overflow of the sea after a norther. They lead under the city, opening at various places.
I have had the pleasure of pa.s.sing through them."
"Ha! How?"