Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1894-11-07
CHAPTER XXXIV.
VENGEANCE.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
VENGEANCE.
| During that meal Bernal Diaz spoke OF
our first meeting on the causeway, and OF
how had gone near to killing him i'll er-
ron, thinking that he was Sarceda, and
then he asked me what was my quarrel
! with Sarceda.
! In as few words as possible I told him
the story Of my life, Of all the evil that DE
| Garcia, or Sarceda, had worked upon me
and mino and of how it was through him
that I was in this land that day. He lis
tened amazed. -
"Holy Mother'' he said at length. Il
always knew him for a villain, but that,
if you do not lie, friend Wingheld, ne
could be such q man as this I did not
know. Now, by my word, had l heard
this tale an hour ago Sarceda should not
have left this camp till be had answered 1t
or cleared himself by combat with you.
But fear it is too late. He was to leave
[ for Mexico at the rising Of the moon to
stir up mischief against me because L
granted you terms-not that l fear him
there, where his repute is small.
IT do not lie indeed" l answered.
"Luch of this tale can prove If need be,
and tell you that would give half the
life that is left to me to stand face to face
in open fight with him again. Ever no
has escaped me, and the score between US
is long"
Now as I spoke thus it seemed to me
that cold and dreadful air played upon
my hands and brow and warning sense
of present evil crept into my soul, over
coming me so that I could not stir or
speak for awhile.
:.Iet us 20 and see if he has gone " said
Diaz presently, and summoning guard
he was about to leave the chamber. 1t was
OF this moment that chanced to look up
and see woman standing in the doorway.
Her hand rested on the doorpost; her head,
from which the long hair strcamed, was
thrown back, and on her faco was look
Of such anguish that at first, so much was
she changed, did not know her for Oto-
mie. When knew her, knew all. One
| thing only could conjure up the terror and
agony that shone in her deep eyes.
What has chanced to our sony" asked.
dead, deady' she answered in whis-
per that seemed to pierce my marrow.
I said nothing, for my heart told mo
what had happened, but Diaz.asked, Dead
why, what has killed him?"
DE Garcia! I saw him 60, replied
Otomie Then she tossed her arms high,
and without another sound fell backward
to the earth
In that moment I think that my heart
broke-at least I know nothing has had
the power to move me greatly since, though
this memory moves me day by day and
hour by hour, till I die and go to seek my
| son.
Say, Bernal Diaz," I cried, with q
hoarse laugh, 'did lie to you concerning
this coInrade of yours?"
Then, springing over Otomie's body, 1
Left tho chamber, followed by Bcrna1 Diaz
and the others.
Without the door turned to the left to-
ward the camp. I had not gone 100 PAGES
when, in the moonlight, saw small
troop of horsamen riding toward us. 1t
was De Garcia and his servants, and they
headed toward the mountain pass on their
road to Mexico. I was not too late.
Haiti" cried Bernal Diaz.
"Who commands me to halt?" cried the
voice Of Do Garcia.
~, your captain" roared Diaz. "Halt,
you devil, you murderer, or you shall be
cut down"
saw him start and turn pale.
"These are strange manners, senior" he
said. "Of your grace ask
At this moment De Garcia caught sight
Of me for tho first time, for had broken
from the hold Of Diaz, who clutcheo my
! arm, and was moving toward him. scid
nothing, but there was something in my
face which told him that knew all and
warned him Of his doom. Hc looked past
me, but the narrow road was blocked with
men. drew near, but he did not wait for
me. Once he put his hand ON the hilt Of
his sword; then suddenly he wheeled his
| horse and fed down the street Of &I-ca.
De Garcia fled, and 1 followed after him,
running fast and low, like o hound. At
first he gained on me, but soon tho road
grew rough, and he could not gallop over
it. We were clear Of the town now, or
rather Of its ruins, and travelling along
little path which the Indians used to bring
down snow from Xaca in the hot weather.
Perhaps there arc some five miles Of this
path before the snow line Is reached, be-
yond which no Indian dared to set his
foot, for the ground above was holy.
Along this path he went, and was con-
tent to see it, for knew we'll that the
traveller cannot leave it, since on either
side liO WaterCourSGS and cliffs. Mile after
mile, Do Garcia followed 1t, looking now
to the left, now to tho right and now
ahead ut the great dome Of snow crowned
with fire that lowered above him. He
knew what was therc-death in the shape
of o man!
camo on doggcdly, saving my strength.
was sure that l must catch him at last,
it did not matter when.
At length he reached the snow line
whcro the path ended, and for the first
time he looked back There I was some
goo PAGES behind him. I, his death, was
behind him, and in front Of him shone the
snow For moment lc hcS!tatcd, and
heard the heavy breathing Of his horse in
the great stiffness Then ho turned and
faced the slope, driving his spurs into tho
b-utc's sides The snow was hard, for
here the frost bit sharply, and for awhile
though it was 50 steep, the horse Travelled
over it better than he had done along the
pathway. Now, as before, there was only
one road that he could take, for we passed
up the rest of Il ridge Il plait, as it were
in the garment Of Il mountain, and on
either side were sleeps Of snow on which
neither horse nor man might keep his foot
ing. Fer two hours or more we followed
that ridge. and as We went through the
silence of tho haunted volcano and the lone
illness Of It's eternal SHOWS it seemed to me
that my spirit entered into the spirit OF
my quarry, and that with its eyes saw
all that was passing in his heart.
Now the snow grew sleeper, and the
horse was almost spent, for he could scarce
ly breathe ut 50 great Il height. In vain
did De Garcia drive his spurs into its sides:
the gallant beast could do no more. Sud
denly it fell down. Surely, l thought, II"
will await Inc now But even l had not