Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-12-21
J sBY,chRlSTlAN : REID

HE is notorious desperate, semi
outlaw, who if brigandage had not been
made so unpleasant and dangerous to
all concerned in it would have embraced
that profession AS it is, he is known
to have been concerned in many crimes.
He is a cousin of the ranchero at whose
house you spent the night, and CHANGED
to be there on that occasion; although it
is not likely that you saw him. Fernan-
dez did, however, and probably his idea
flashed upon him at the sight of such an
instrument. The man says that he told
him guardedly, but in language suffi-
GENTLY clear to be understood. that you
carried money, and that he was at lib
erty to shoot and rob you. He was kind
enough to remark that it was not neces-
sary to kill you outright, although if
such an accident occurred he would not
deplore it. That accounts for the fact
that when the robber found you sense
less he dragged you back into the road
and left you alive. Had you been con-
scous he would no doubt have killed
you"
How could Fernandez be sure that
would give him an opportunity, by fall
| ing behind the rest of the party?'
He reckoned. it is to be supposed, on
| the GOODNESS between himself and you
and on the fact that you could not talk
| to Amanda or the nozos. A man in such
a case generally rides alone and is easily
left behind. He told this poor tool of
his-whose name, by the way. is Lopez
that if he, Fernandez, were with you
no harm was to be done, but if he found
| you alone he might do what he pleased"
1.-The scoundrelr' said Derwent be-
tween his teeth. That meant that if
he found me a plant tool | should be
spared. He offered me the mine, with
many plausible explanations again that
| day, and | again refused it. Then he
left me to the fate he had prepared-the
| infamous scoundrel!
Certainly an infamous scoundrel,"
| said Don Maurizio. He left you coolly
| to your fate, and when he found after
ward that things were not going very
smoothly from his point of view, that
you had found a powerful friend-for
may say that of myself-and that in
quiry was growing hot upon his tracks,
he met one day the man whom he had
tempted to put his life in jeopardy, and
tainted him with having done his work
|
You should have remembered he said
to him, that dead men never tell any
tales. 1t is not likely that he meant by
this that the work should still be done
in a more satisfactory manner; but sc
| Lopez took it. He fancied that it might
be safer for himself if you were out Of
the way, and the result was simple. He
hung about the hacienda, discovered
that you were in the habit of visiting
the canada place that seemed made
for his purpose-and watched for you
there with the intention of putting al
| end to Fernandez taunts The rest we
| know"
| yes" said Derwent, 1--WE know that
God sent an angel to Illustrate his pur
pose-why, he alone knowsl | am SURE
my life seems unworthy of being saved
in such a manner"
Think, then, of poor Barrera," sale
Don Maurizio, smiling He absolutely
wept-and you know how much of the
impressive Indian calm our Mexican
have-when he heard of the confession
had sent for him, and he arrived jus
after it had been taken down"
Il do think of him, and am most sin
cerely grateful on his account as we'll a
on my own" said Derwent. But wha
will be the result to Fernandez"
THE result will be, of course, that h.
will deny the story, and his powerful
friends will hush the matter up prob
ably. But it will put a quietus upol
him in many ways. With such charg
hanging over him he will make himsel
less obnoxious for some time to come"
Il shall let him know that if h
crosses my path will shoot him like
r dog"
. He will not cross your path" SAT-
4 the other significantly. "And if he does
you can afford to scorn him. The bloc
of this poor creature is upon his soul
Let that suffice"
Yes, it might we'll suffice, Derwen
a said to himself little later, as he passe
across the patio on his way to his ow
apartment, feeling exhausted by tn
manifold excitements of the day. With
the short space of twelve hours man
things had occurred that he should neve
forget. That moment of close and deaC
ly danger, the instant when he had see
Zarifa standing before him with he
= flashing glance and her lifted pistol, he
womanly anguish at the sight of tn
fatally wounded assassin struck dow
by her own hand, her swift summons
assistance-these things were burned il
! effaceably upon his memory. And nc
less vivid was the recollection of the M
ments in the twilight quiet of the cloi
- tered court, when Zarifa and himse
had stood alone together, and she ha
spoken with a confidence so touchir
that it had almost led him to betray
r that he felt would be the depth of foil
- Then he had walked beside her as ST
made one of the procession that followe
Padre Francisco as, with accompanyi1
= acolytes, with shining tapers and silv
bell and all the sweet and solemn sta
= which the ritual prescribes, he bore tt
holy Host to the dying man. And VIII
a scene that was upon which they e
u tered2 The hushed quiet, the kneelir
forms and the radiance of lighted ca
dies centering about the bed where
lay who in the. morning had been
murderer in intent, and who now-o
wonderful mystery of eternal love al