The National tribune., 1902-04-10


| FcranzO in time to save myself from ut
| ter ruin. av-.s
$500
|1rF ri
| took a grim delight in my disregard
| for all the world, and as | saw the last
beams of the fiery sun lying against the
blackened hills and realized that all hope
of reaching my destination in time to full
| fill my contract was at an end, l laughed
gaily, and looking into the eyes Of Her
! ralgO | was cOntent.it
The hours flew by, aud the red moon
\ came mp and threw long lanes of yellow
| light into the shadows ,of the grove. and
the stars peeped coyly from the deep blue
of the sky. = ID.
Herralgo brought guitar and played
and sang for ME. some quaint and sweet
ballads of old Spain. All, what a wonder
! full voice was hersl SO rich and strong,
yet as sweet as the song of a nightingale.
| | listened spell-bound. Never before, even
in my dreams, had | heard such music.
| The hours flew by in long, rapturous
dream, and every beam of the moon and
every CLEAN that fell from the twinkling
stars seemed paipitating with the joyous
\ beating of my heart.
Swiftly, swiftly the hours swept by, and
seemed scarcely an hour from the time
the sun had set till the gray of dawn
| broke on the East. Still | remained with
HerralgO, never leaving her side for a
moment, drinking in her music and listen
ing to every word that fell from her lips
as if it were a voice from Paradise.
| She had been singing to me a song she
had sung before, one | loved so well, and
as | bent over her and touched my lips to
| her cheek, something slipped from my
| coat pocket and fell at my feet.
| took it up aud gaZed at it in a vague,
startled way. 1t was the photograph Of
| Grace Mansfield
[ stood deyouring it with my eyes, a
strange, inexpicable reyulsion of feeling
coming over me. The face of the picture
seemed endowed with more than life; the
eyes were filed with earnest supplication.
| stood as if stupeted, my whole form
trembling, my brain running in mad
whirl, the picture holding my gaze as if
by some power of witchery. Herralgo's
song grew louder and louder, and the
strings of her instrument seemed to crash
like thunder through my brain, yet | stood
| immovable, my eyes never leaving the
face in the picture. The song of Her
ralgo continued: the voice of the singer
grew loud and harsh, the notes from the
guitar like the clashing of discordant bells.
| felt the eyes of the singer upon me, de-
yOuring me with revengeful and maic,
nant glance but | struggled to throw off
| the spell. | pressed my lips to the pic
ture-I covered my face with my hands,
! the dreadful realization Of my folly com
| ing with sudden shock to my bewidrred
| senses. The song of Herralgo swellcd into
a frightful Shrek of anger and despair;
the strings OF her instrument snapped with
the sound Of a sharp peal of thunder, and
! then-silence,
Slowly | lifted my eyes. HerralgO, the
witch of the desert, was gone. | heard
her retreating steps up the slope, and like
| one who is just recovering from a fright
| full dream | ran up the hill. L reached the
shanty, but it was deserted.
| / stopped at the door and tried to think
cohcrcntly. What did it all mean? Was
1 dreaming, or had | been the victim of
! some dreadful hallucination! | walked
toward the stream, and rs | came near
| to it the neigh of my horse greeted me.
At that moment harsh, grating laugh
| came from the chaparral. 1t was that of
! Herralgo-but-my God. how changed A
! sort of indefinablc horror came over me.
| | could see the bent figure of woman
crouching in the brush. 1t rose as | ad-
vanced, the same harsh laugh that | had
heard before greeting my ears. Then the
/ repulsiyc yiSage OF a withered hag peered
| at me Il moment from the thicllet. q
yengeful light in the evil eyes: then she
was gone.
Like one awakened from nightmare
mounted my horse and galloped furousiy
along the trail in the direction of San
| Feranzo, the words OF the Mexican guide
coming to me with awful significance;
''She is witch--a devil"
Was | mad? | looked at the morning
sun streaming in floods of light over the
hills and valleys and shook myself. 1t
must be dream. No! There coiled in
serpent folds on my finger was the ring
which Herrago had placed there. | tried
TO tear it from my finger, but without
avail.
All, it was all true, then. My folly was
an actual fact. | was a beggar. The
| White Serpent mine with all l had on
earth, was lost to me. Don Miguel would
smile in my face when l should see him
and point to my contract. The thought
drove me to the verge of madness. But
rode on as if pursued by avenging demons
l should have reached San Feranzo by
the 4th of June, and this was the 9Th
All was lost, but like one who grasps at
a straw in drowning, | rode on, hoping
that something might yet occur that would
save me.
/ l galloped into San FeranzO like one
mad and entered the inn | had stopped at
| when there before. The landlord was an
American / had known for several years,
and he greeted me cordially as l came in.
Il feared something had happened to
you, he said. "Ah, Mr.. Preston, how