The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1900-07-04
A NOVEL;
np 6lrs. elizabeth G. Winter.
tcop,rirht 1892 and 1893. BY ROBERT BoSEE.s ssss3
isabella cASTELAR.)


what will happen next! But, come
on, I want to get well started before
the daylight is gone, and then / can
keep on we'll enough till the moon
rises-she must be about the second
quarter by this time-Halloa! What
is that? Can those be figures moving
on that mountain? People or cattle,
which is it?"
Olive looked as he directed, and
distinctly saw two figures, man and
a woman, on the brow Of mountain
that in the clear, still, deceptive
light, seemed but few yards away;
and instinctively she drew closer to
her husband.
eff they should see us?" she whis-
pered., ~ =
"They can't; we are concealed in
this hollow; their figures stand out
against the sky. They must be in
want of exercise to take such climb
in this heat"
The slight figure Of the woman
moved and turned toward the man-it
was Dolores-and at that moment
she was saying: .
"Mrs. Travers managed it all, and
have scarcely known anything
about it. She has been 80 kind.
Dear mamma-it was q dream I never
hoped to realize, and tomorrow they
will place all that remains of her in
the same grave with papa; it is 30
right and fitting that it should be to-
morrow, because that is the anniVer-
sary ofpapa's death"
"The t2th Of October, is it, dear
est? That will indeed be fitting an.
niyersary. Perhaps the troubled
spirit of our Indian ancestor will rest
from that time.
"Perhaps so," said Dolores, seri-
ously. "I hope you won't think it
very fanciful, Harold, but I want to
walk to the sycamores tonight"
eff you are equal to it, Dolores; it
is 80 very sultry."
"Not more 80 that it has been for
several days." she answered, reassur-
ingly. "What we call earthquake
weather in California-only the earth
quakes seldom come when we are
looking for them. We will go by this
path round the mountain, and 80
down into the valley"
She put her hand within his, and
they disappeared round the brow of
the mountain.
"There! They have gonel" said
Olive, who had been silently watch
ing the two dark figures, like sill
houettes against the clear evening
light. IT nm not sure if they were
real or merely visionary, Clarence; ); for
whom do you think they looked like
to me?"
II am sure I can't guess" he re-
turned. "But here we are, at last.
Behold, there are the mystic syca-
mores. Count them for yourself.
One, two, three! So there are twelve,
aren't there?"
eyes," responded Olive, in her
suddenly awakened interest, forgetting
all about the two figures that had
seemed so strangely familiar. At last
and beyond the shadow of doubt we
have come to the right place now"
And she ran quickly forward, quite
oblivious of her late fatigue; and
looking closely at the separated trunks
oil growing from single root, !she
quickly found the one on which had
been carved the Indian woman's fig
ure.
"There she isl" cried Olive, in tri-
umph. "The poor Gold-Flower her.
self,> unhappy victim to wasted love!
And only see, Clarence! Some one
has shot an arrow straight through
her hssrt. An Indian arrow it must
have been. How strong and tipped
with some hard metal! The point is
standing straight out from the wood?"
She sat down upon q little mound
at distance, all unconscious that it
was the grave of the father whose
memory was 30 dearly cherished by
Dolores; and from that, his last rest
ing-place, she watched her husband
strike his pick-axe into the ground
that covered the treasureo of the buried
Mendozas.
A slow quarter Of an hour went by,
then another; and fast and steady
fell the blows of tho pick,a1e in the
dry, sandy. pebbly ground. The
man who welded it had learned the
business well in many mining-camp,
and all his old-time expertness and
strength came back to him now; and
as he tossed aside the pick and catch
ing up tho spade shoveled out the
loose earth, he glanced occasionally,
with slight, triumphant laugh, toward
Olive. -
But, on a sudden, he uttered q
strange, hoarse cry, and the spade
dropped from his hand; q chill, curd'
ling, cold sensation, as if ice had been
dropped down his back, made him
shiver: and then he stood gaping,
stupidity silent, horribly gaping
straight ahead of him on through the
gathering dusk; his gaze seemed
turned to fire, as if it would burn
through the thing at which it looked.
"Clarence! ,Clarencel" cried Olive,
as she rushed to him and seized his
stiff, motionless arm. "What is it?
What is the matter? Are you hurt9"
"Therel There!" whispered the
hoarse voice. "Do you see nothing!'
"Nothing," answered Olive, hor-
rible chill of some unknown, un-
formulated fear causing her teeth to
rattle against one another as she spoke.
Then, with IN almost heroic effort to
throw off this bodiless terror, she con-