CHAPTER V.

Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 29, 22 December 1883, Page 4

CHAPTER Y.

The wind was blowing toward the stranger, so that he was nearly upon her, when Teresa first took the alarm. Ho was a man over six feet in height, strongly built, with a slight tendency to a roundness of bulk which suggested reserved rather than impeded energy. His thick beard and moustache were closely oropped around a small and handsome mouth that lisped oxcopt when he was excited, but always kept fellowship with his blue eyes in a perpetual smile of half-cynical good humour. His dress was superior to that of the locality ; his general expression that of a man of the world, albeit a world of San Francisco, Sacramento, and Murderers' Bar. Ho advanced toward her with a laugh and an outstretched hand. " You here !" she gasped, drawing back. Apparently neither surprised nor mortified at this reception, he answored frankly : "Yoth. You didn't expect mo, I know. But Dolorcth showed me tho letter you wrote hor, and — well — here I am, ready to help you, with two men and a thparo horthe waiting outsido the woodth on tho blind trail." " You — //on — hero ?" she only repeated. Curson shrugged his shoulders. " Vcth. Of courth you nevor expected to theo mo again, and leath of all here. I'll admit that, I'll thay. I wouldn't if I'd been in your plathe. I'll go further and thay you didn't want to" thee me again—anywhere. But it all cometh to the thame tking ; here I am. I read the letter you wrote to Doloreth, I read how you were hiding here, under Dunn'th very nothe, with histh whole pothe out, cavorting round and barkin' up the wrong tree. I made up my mind to come down hero with a few nathy friends of mine and cut you out under Dunn'th nothe, and run you over into Yuba, that* th all." "fiow dared she show you my letter? you of all men. How dared she ask ijovr help?" continued Teresa fiercely. "But thee didn't athk ray help," he responded coolly. "D dif I don't think the juth calculated I'd be glad to know you were being hunted down and thtarving, that I might put Dunn on your track." " You lie i" said Teresa furiously, "she was my friend. A better friend than those who professed— more," she added, with a contemptuous drawing away of her skirt as if she feared Curson's contamination. "All right. Thettle that \iith her when you go back," continued Gurson, philosophically. "We can talk of that on the way, the thing now ith to get up and get out of the woodth. Come !" Teresa's only reply was a gesture of scorn. " I know all that," continued Guidon half soothingly, " but they're waiting." " Let them wait. I shall not go." "What will you do?"' " Stay here— till the wolves eat me." " Teresa, listen. D mit all—Teresa — Tita ! see here," he said with sudden energy. I swear to God it's all right. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones and take a new deal. You shall come back as if nothing had happened and take your old place as before. I don't mind doing the square thing—all round. If that's what you mean, if that's all that stands in the way, why, look upon the thing as settledthere, Tita, old girl, come."' Careless or oblivious of her stony silence and starting oyes, he attempted to take hoi hand, 'but she disengaged herself with a quick movement, drew back, and suddenly crouched like a wild animal about to spring. Curoon folded his arm? as she leaped to her feet; the little dagger she had drawn from her garter flashed menacingly in the air, but she stopped. The man before her remained erect, impassive, and silent, the great trees around and beyond her remained erect, impassive, and silent ; there was no sound in the dim aisles but the quick panting of her mad pas*ion ; no movement in the calm motionless shadow but the trembling of her uplifted steel. Her arm bent and slowly sank, her fingers rolaxed, the knife fell from her hand. " That'th quite enough for a thow," he said with a return to his former cynical ease and a perceptible tone of relief in his voice. "It 'th tho thame old Teretha. Well, then, if you won't go with me, go without me, t^ko the led horthe and cut away. Dick Athley and Peterth will follow you over the country line. If you want thorne money, there it ith." He took a buckskin purse from his pocket. "If you won't take it from me "— he hesitated as she made no reply— "Athley'th flush and ready to lend you thome." She had not seemed to hear him, but had gtooped in some embarrassment, picked up the knife, and hastily hid it, then with averted face and nervous fingers was beginning to tear striprf of loose bark from the nearest trunk. "Well, what do you thay?" "I don't want any money, and I shall stay here." She hesitated, looked around her, and then added with an effort, "I suppose you meant well. Be it so ! Let bygones be bygones. You said jusfc now, ' It'rf the same old Teresa. ' So she is, and seeing she's the saire, she's better here than anywhere else." There was enough bitterness in her tone tccall for Curson's half perfunctory sympathy. " That bed d," he responded, quickly, " Jutht thay yo'll come, Tita, and—" She stopped his half-spoken sentence with a negative gesture. " You don't understand. I shah stay here." " But even if they don't theek you here, you can't live here for ever. The friend that you wrote about wath tho good to you, you know, can't keep you here alwayth, and are you thure ynu can alwayth trutht her ?" "It isn't a woman, it's a man." She stopped short, and coloured to the line of her forehead. " WhoHaidit wasa woman?" she continued fiercely, as if to cover her confusion with a burst of gratuitous anger. " Is that another of your lies ?" Curson's lips, which for a moment had completely loat their smile, were now drawn together in a prolonged whistle. He gazed curiously at her gown, at her hat, at the bow of bright ribbon that tied her black hah', and said, "Ah !" " A poor man who has kept my secret," she went on hurriedly, " a man as friendless and lonely as myself. t Yes," disregarding Curson's cynical smile, "a man who has shared everything — " " Naturally," suggested Curson. " And turned himself out of his only shelter to give me a roof and covering," she continued mechanically, struggling with the new and horrible fancy that his words awakened. "And thlept every night at Indian Thpring to thave your reputation," said Cureon. "Ofcourthe." Teresa turned very white. Cureon was prepared for an outburst of fury — perhaps even another attack. But the crushed and beaten woman only gazed at him with frightened and imploring eyes. "For God's sakp, Dick, don't say that ?" The amiable cynic was staggered. His good humour and a certain chivalrous instinct he [could not repress got the better

ofhim. Ho shrugged his shouldoiy. "What I thay, and what you do, Teretha, neodn't mako nth quarrel. I've no claim on you — I know it. Only " — a vivid souse of the ridiculous, powerful in mon of his stamp, completed hor victory. "Only, don't thay anything about my coming down ho re to cut you out from the— the — the Sheriff." He gave utterance to a short but unaffected laugh, made a slight grimaco and turned to go. Teresa did not join in his mirth. Awkward as it would have boon if ho had taken a severer view of the subject, she was mortified even amidst hor fears and embarrassment at his lovity. Just as she had become convinced that his jealousy had mndo hor over conscious, hi . apparent good-humoured indifference gavo that ovov consciousness a guilty significance. Yet this was lost in her sudden alarm as her companion, looking up, uttered an exclamation and placed his hand upon his revolver. With a sinking! conviction that the climax had come, Teresa raised her eyes. From the dim aisles beyond, Low was approaching ! The catastropho seemed complete. She had baroly time to uttor an imploring whisper : "In the namo of God, not a word to him." But a change had already come over her companion. It was no longer a parley with a foolish woman ; ho had to deal with a man liko himself. As Low's dark face and picturcsquo figure camo nearer, Mr Curson 's proposed method of dealing with him was mado audible. " Ith it a mulatto or a thircuth, or both ?" he asked, w ith affected anxiety. Low's Indian phlegm was impervious to such assault Ho turned to Teresa without apparently noticing hor companion. "1 turned back,'' he said quiotly, " as soon as I knew there were strangers hero ; I thought you might need me. " She noticed, for the h'rst time, that, in addition to his rille, he carried a revolver and hunting knife in his belt. "Ycth,"' returned Curson, with an ineffectual attempt to imitate Low's phlegm, tv but as I didn't happen to bo a stranger to this lady, perhaps it wasn't necessary, particularly as I had two friends—" " Waiting at tho edgo of the wood with a led hoise," interrupted Low without addressing him, but apparently continuing his explanation to Teresa. But she turned to Low with feverish anxiety. " That's so— he is an old fiiend— " fche gave a quirk, imploring glance at Curson, " an old friend who came to help me aw ay — he is very kind," she stammered, turning alternately from one to tho other, "but l told him there was r.o hurry— at least today—that you— wore very good— too, and —and would hide me a little longer, until your plan — you know j/our plan — " she iulded. with a look of beseeching significance to Low, " could be tried. 1 ' And then with a helpless conviction that hor excuses, motives, and emotions were equally and perfectly transparent to both men, she stopped in a tremble. " l'erhapth it'th jutht nth well, then, that the gentleman came thrai^ht here and didn't tackle my two friendth when he pathed them," observed Curson, half sarcastically. "I have not passed your friends, nor have I been near them," i>aid Low, looking at him for the first time w ith the same exasperating calm, "or perhaps I should not be here or they there. I know that one man entered tho wood a few moments ago, and that two men and four horsos remained outside "' " That.-, true," said Teresa to Curson excitedly, "that's true. He knows all. He can sco without looking, hear without listening. He — he— " she stammered, and stopped. The two men had faced each other. Curson. after his first good-natured impulse, had retained no w ish to regain Teroa w horn he felt he no longer loved, and yet w ho, for that very reason perhaps, had awakened his chivalrous instincts ; Low, equally on his side, was altogether unconscious ot any feeling which might grow into a pas>ion, and prevent him from letting her go with another it for her own safety. They were both men of a certain taste and refinement. Yet, in spite of all this, some vague instinct of the baser male animal remained with them, and they were moved to a mutually I Acrrre^ive attitude in the presence of tho female. One word moreand the opening chaptor of a sylvan Iliad might have begun. But this modern Helen .saw it coming and arrested it with an inspiration of feminine gonius. Without being observed she disengaged her knite from her bosom and let it tall as if by accident. It struck tho ground with the point of its keen blade, bounded, and roiled between them. The two men started and looked at each other with a foolish air. Curpon laughed. "I reckon she can take care of herthclf," he said, extending his hand to Low. "Im off. But if I'm wanted sAcV^know where to find me." Low took the proffered hand, but neither of the two men looked at Teresa. The reserve of antagonism once broken, a few words of caution, ad's ice, and encom-agement passed between them in apparent obliviousness of her presence, or her personal responsibility. As Curson at last nodded a farewell to her, Low insisted upon accompanying him as far as the hor&es, and in another minute she was again alone. She had saved a quaricl between them at the sacrifice of herself, for her vanity wa« still keen enough to feel that this exhibition of her old weakness had degraded her in their eyes, and worse— had lost the respect her late restraint had won from Low. They had treated her like a child or a crazy woman, perhaps even now were exchanging criticisms upon her— perhaps pitying her ! Yet she had prevented a quarrel, a fight — possibly the death of either one or other of these men who despised her, for none knew better than she the trivial beginning and desperate end of these encounters. Would they — would Low ever realise it and forgive her ? Her small, dark hands went up to her eyes, and she sank upon the ground. She looked through tear-veiled lashes upon the mute and giant witnesses of her deceit and passion, and tried to draw from their immovable calm strength and consolation as before. But even they seemed to stand apart— reserved and forbidding. When Low returned she tried to gather from his eyes and manner what had passed between him and her former lover. But beyond a more gentle abstraction at times, he retained his usual calm. She was at last forced to allude to it herself with simulated recklessness. " I suppose I didn't get a very good character from my last place !" she said with a laugh. " I don't understand you," he replied, in evident sincerity. She bit her Up and was silent. But as they were returning home she said, gently, "I hope you were not angry with me for the lie I told when I spoke of 'your plan.' I could not give the real reason for not returning with— with— that man. But it's not all a lie. I have a plan, if you haven't. When you are ready to go to Sacramento to take your place, dress me as an Indian boy, paint my face, and let mo go with you. You can leave me— there— you know." "It's not a bad idea," he responded, gravely. ' { We will see. " On the next day and the next the rencontre seemed to be forgotten, The herb-

arium was already filled with rare specimens. Terosa bad cvon overcomo hor feminine ropugnanoe to "bugs" and crcoping things so far as to assist in his entomological collection, lie had drawn from a sacred cache in tho hollow of a tree the fow worn text- books from which ho had studied. "They soom vory procious," she said, with a smile. "Very," ho replied gravoly. "Thero was one with plates that tho ants ate up, and it will bo six months boforol can aflbrd to buy another." Teresa glanced hurriedly over his wellworn buckskin suit, at his calico shirt, with its pattorn almost obliterated by countloss washings, and became thoughtful. " I suppo.se you couldn't buy ono at Indian Spring," she said innocently. For once Low was startlod out of his phlogm. " Indian Spring," he ejaculated ; ' ' porluips not ovon in San Francisco. Thoso camo from tho Statos." "How did you got thorn ?" porsisted Teresa. " I bought them for skins I got over the ridge." "I didn't mean that— but no mattor. Then you mean to soil that bear-skin, don't you ?" she added. Low, in fact, had already sold it, tho procoeds having been investod in a gold ring for Miss Nellie, which sho scrupulously did not wear except in his presence. In his singular truthfulness ho would havo frankly confessod it to Torosa, but the sccrofc was not his own. Ho contontcd himsolf with saying that he had disposed of it at Indian Spring. Teresa started, and communicated unconsciously somo of her nervousness to her companion. They gazed in each other's eyes with a troubled expression. " Do you think it was wise to soil that particular skin, which might bo idontiiiod V she asked timidly. Low knitted his arched brows, but folt a I strange- souse of relief. " I'erhap.s not," he i said carelessly ; " but it's too lato now to mend matters," That afternoon she Avroto several letters and tore thorn up. Ono, however, she retained, and handed it to Low to post at Indian Spring, whither ho was going. She called his attention to the superscription being the same as the previous letter, and added, with affected gaiety, "But if the answer isn't as prompt , perhaps it will be pleasanter than the last." Her quick feminine eye noticed a little excitement in his manner and a more studious attention to his dress. Only a fow days before she would not have allowed this to pass without some mischievous illusion to his mysterious sweetheart ; it troubled her greatly now to find that sho could not bring herself to this household pleasantly, and that her lip trembled and her eye grew moist as he parted from her. The afternoon passed slowly ; he had said he might not return to supper unti. late ; nevertheless a strange re;: t less ness took possession of her as tho day w ore on ; she put aside her work, the darning ot his stockings, and rambled aimlessly through the woods. She had wandered, she knew not how far, when she was suddenly seized with the same vague sense of a foreign presence which she had felt before. Could it be Our.son again — with a word of warning? I\ r o ! she knew it was not he; so subtle had her sense become that .sho even fancied that she detected in tho invisible aura projected by the unknown no significance or rolation to herself or Low, and felt no fear. Nevertheless bho deemed it wisest to seek the protection of her sylvian bower, and hurried swiftly thither. But not so fixedly that hhe did not once or twice pau.se in her flight to examine the new-comer from behind a friendly trunk. He was a stranger — a young fellow with a brown moustache, w earing heavy Mexican spurs in his riding boots, whose tinkling he apparently did not care to conceal. Ho had perceived her, and was evidently pursuing her, but so awkwardly and timidly that &he eluded him with ease. When sho nad reached the security of the hollow tree and pulled the curtain of bark before the narrow opening, with her eye to the interstices, she waited his coming. lie arrived breathlessly in the open space before the tree where the bear once lay ; the dazed, bewildered, and half-awed expression of his face as he glanced around him and tlnough the openings of the forest aisles brought a faint smile to her saddened face. At last he called in a half-embarrassed voice : "Miss, Nellie!" The smile faded from Teresa's cheek. Who was " Mi.ss Nellie ?" She pressed hor ear to tho opening. "Miss Wynne !" the voice again called, but was lost again in tho echolcss woods. Devoured with anew and gratuitous curiosity, in another moment Teresa felt she would have disclosed herself at any risk, but tho stranger rose and began to retrace his steps. Long after his tinkling spurs were lost in tho distance Teresa remained like a statue staring at the place where he had stood. Then she suddenly turned like a madwoman, glanced down at the gown she was wearing, tore it from her back as if ib had been a polluted garment, and stamped upon it in a convulsion of rage. And then, with her beautiful bare arms clapped together over her head, she threw herself upon her couch in a tempest of tears.