The Washington times., 1903-02-01
FOR LOVE OF MARTA
The Strange Story of the Bride of a Day.

man who had not acquired the feIicitous
power Of expressing his feelings. but
there were depths of tenderness in his
eyes when he brought Marta home
which had never dweIt in them before
There was new eargerness in his voice.
new elasticity in his step. and a new
smile upon his lips. With all his
knowledge. he was as simple as child
in his judgment Of women. and he be
Heyed that Marta loved him! He was
impatient when a messenger came for
him TO visit a dying ranchero, and for
the first time in his life he went re
luctantly TO minister relief to the suf-
fering- IN a few hours his most init
mate friends and relatives were to dine
with him, and he had hoped to spend the
time before their arrival alone with
Marta. Still. he was faithful to his pro
fession, the noblest one under the smile
Of heaven.
Might had fallen before the guests
arrived, and Marta left her bed cham
Der and stood upon her balcony. 1
watched her from the window of dark
ened room. She was unconscious Of my
nearness. The night was silent and per
TUNED, A young white moon shone
rather eoldly upon the Rio Grande, and
the river looked like molten silver under
the pale reflection. Marta stood motion
less. one hand raised high above her
head and cIasping a sIendar pillar of the
balcony, seemingly in rapt contempIa-
ton Of the night. The far away voice
of a coyote, crying like a woman in NOR
tai pain. was The only sound to be heard.
There was not rag of cloud in the
heavens, and the young wife Of the
greatest genius of New Mexico was a
fitting part Of a profoundly beautiful
and almost solemn scene.
There was a poisonous vine twining
about the pillar she was cIasping. and
between its leaves depended clusters of
soft, deciduous berries. Suddenly I OBJ
served change in her attitude. She had
not altered her. pose, excepting that her
figure had grown tense and rigid. Her
grasp upon the pillar had frightened. and
the bruised juice of a cluster Of berries
was ooziug through her fingers, staining
them crimson as the blood upon the cam
20 santo. She was listening intsntIy,
breathlessly. She could hear no sound Of
footsteps upon the sand outside. but her
delicate nostrils had detected the odor Of
a cigar before the man who was smoking
it came up the walk leading to the
house.
IT was Ricardo, her husbands
nephew. He had been absent from Es-
pamela since Holy Week, and had re-
turned in time to eat at the feast OF his
uncIe's wedding. Marta had heard he
was coming, and at her request re lad
been kept in ignorance of the marriages.
HE did not notice her at first. but she
saw him plainly in the white moonlight.
He was a strong. supple young man Of
about her own age and rather fair Of
face. There were sensitive lines about
his mouth, and when i-e smiled his smile
betokened some sweetness of disposition.
partly contradicted by his threatening.
dark eyes. Marta leaned over her pal
cony. and softly called TO him:
g Ricardo. Hoia, Ricardo
He stopped upon the little plaza be
low. transfxed with establishment.
Marta he cried, Marta, why are
you here?'
Her manner was hooking, insOIent,
defiant
y am here by right Of possession, she
said. I have the honor Of being the mis-
tress Of this house, and OF being your
aunt. my sainted Ricardo. married the
great man. your uncle. this morning, and
he has left me thus early in our Eonoy-
moon 10 minister to the sick and suffer
ing Look, Ricardo. at the happIest
woman in New Mexico
Marta. he besought her. tell me
this is not true. Tell me it is a foolish
Jest you are perpetratng upon me Tell
me you have not been guilty OF this ir-
reyocabIe. this wicked actt
Now you ere brutal 10 your reIa-
tive she said, and dIsrespectabIe to
your uncIe's worthy wife, You have Tor
gotten to be polite since you have Joined
the cruel order of the. penttentes. You
have forgotten TO be gallant since you
began 10 study for the priesthood You
have failed to feIicitatc me upon my
marriage. You have even forgotten to
salute your aunt Where are your man
ners. my good child? Why do you not
speak? Your face is as paIid in this
moonlight as the pale yucca-nowers be
hind you. or as my own white bridal
gown
He was graceful and quick as pan
Their He sprang and caught the railing