CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
A DISPENSER OF SPELLS.
Fortunately Ludwig's exclamation has been uttered in a subdued tone ofvoice; but lest in his agitation he may speak louder, the gaucho graspshim by the arm, and cautions silence, enjoining the same on Cypriano.
For several seconds not another word passes between them, all threeremaining motionless, and silent as sphinxes.
Meanwhile the Indian girl having come opposite the place where they areseated, passes onward with cautious step and eyes that interrogate theground in front, as if she anticipated seeing some one; like a younghind that has stolen timidly out of the covert, on hearing thecall-bleat of the stag.
Soon she is far enough beyond to give them an opportunity of exchangingspeech without her overhearing it; and of this the gaucho availshimself, whispering--
"She's keeping an appointment with her lover, I suppose."
He little thinks of the painful effect his words have produced uponLudwig, as he adds--
"We'll do best to let her go on to their place of meeting, which is nodoubt somewhere near. She must return this way, and then we can have_our_ interview with her. But where's the _amante_! A laggard, to letthe girl be on the ground before him! That wasn't my way, when--See!she's coming to a stop."
And to a stop she comes, just where the sloping path passes out at theupper end of the defile, entering among the scaffolds. There standingerect, she glances inquiringly around, her gaze ranging along the openspaces between the structures and the shadows underneath them.
For a minute or two she remains in this attitude, without changing it,or making the slightest noise--evidently looking for a form or listeningfor a footstep. But neither seeing the one, nor hearing the other, sheat length calls out a name; at first timidly, but after an interval inbolder tone, "Shebotha!"
"Not her lover after all!" mutters Gaspar, who remembers the name thuspronounced, while Ludwig is relieved at hearing it, he also knowingsomething of the sorceress.
"Only that old hag!" the gaucho goes on; "I wonder now what the youngsprout can be wanting with her, up here and at this hour of the night!Some mischief between them, I haven't a doubt."
His conjectures are suddenly brought to a close by a new noise nowreaching their ears; a sort of scraping or shuffling, diversified bygrunts and coughs--all coming up from below. Turning their eyes thatway, they see ascending what appears to be a human figure, but stoopedforward so as more to resemble a creature crawling on all fours. At thesame instant the Indian girl has caught sight of it; and standing poisedon the platform's edge, she silently awaits its approach, knowing thebent form to be Shebotha's.
Scrambling on up the steep, at intervals stopping to take breath, whileshe intermittently gives out hoarse grunts, the hag passes by them, atlength reaching the spot where the girl stands awaiting her. Stoppingby the side of the latter, both are now seen face to face in the fullmoonlight; and never did moon shine upon faces or figures morecontrasting. On the one side age indicated by a spare body, thin skinnyarms, features furrowed with wrinkles, of most repulsive aspect, andeyes sparkling with a sinister light; on the other, youth, with all itswitching charms, a figure lithe and graceful as any palm growing on theplain below, features of classic type, and a face exquisitely beautiful,despite its tint of bronze, the eyes bright with the glow of a burningpassion. For it is this last that has brought the girl thither.
Only a second or two do they remain silent, till the sorceress recoversbreath; for it is she who breaks the silence, saying:--
"Nacena wants to speak with Shebotha? On what subject?"
"Need I tell you, Shebotha; you know!"
"I know that the sister of Kaolin is in love with our young _cacique_.That is no secret to others, any more than to me."
"Oh! do not say that! I thought no one knew of it but--"
"But everybody," interrupts the unfeeling hag. "And what if they do?Nacena is beautiful, the belle of our tribe, and need fear no rival; noteven her with the eyes of blue, and the tresses of gold, who sleepsunder Shebotha's roof. Nacena is jealous of the paleface captive; shehas no cause."
"O, good Shebotha!" cries the young girl, in passionate tone, her heartheaving with rekindled hope, "can you assure me of that? If so, youshall have all I can give you; my armlets, neck ornaments, _mantas,hamacas_, everything. Fear not my rewarding you well!"
"Nacena is generous," rejoins the sorceress, her eyes sparkling withpleasure at such a wholesale proffer of chattels. "She shall have thatassurance; for Shebotha can give it without fail. See this!"
While speaking, she has drawn out, from under the skin robe that coversher bony breast, what appears to be a small horn, converted into a phialwith bottom and stopper.
"In this," she says, holding it up to the light, "is a fluid, one dropof which, given to Aguara will turn his heart whichever way Shebothawishes it turned; make him love whomsoever she wants him to love; andthat will be as Nacena wants it."
"Oh! it is good of you, Mam Shebotha so good! How shall I ever enoughthank or reward you?"
"No matter about thanks," responds the hag with a knowing leer;"Shebotha likes better the reward. And what you've promised willcontent her. But promises, as Nacena herself knows, are sometimes badlykept, and should have something to secure them, by way of earnest. Whatcan you give me now?"
The girl glances down to her breast, upon which lie several pendants,sustained by a massive chain of gold passing around her neck. Then sheholds out her arms to show bracelets upon the wrists, beset with pearlsand precious stones, that no doubt once clasped other wrists than hers--those of palefaced _doncellas_ dwelling in Santiago or Salta.Unclasping the armlets, one after another, she delivers them toShebotha.
But the avaricious beldame is not yet satisfied. With her eyes upon thechain necklet and its glittering attachments, she nods towards it, asmuch as to say, "That too." And it, also, is detached; and handed overto her. Then her greedy eyes go to the fillet around the girl'stemples, and an embroidered belt which encircles her waist. But these,though pretty ornaments, are not of great intrinsic value; and asShebotha has in view a further levy of blackmail at a future time, shecan then take them too.
For the present she appears content, all the more as she gloats over thetreasure, which for a while she feasts her eyes upon without speaking.Then slipping the various articles, one after another, into the bosom ofher dress, she resumes speech, saying--
"Shebotha has other spells besides that spoken of; one powerful aboveall, which puts to sleep--ah! a sleep from which the sleeper neverawakes. If the other should fail to act, and Aguara--"
"But you said it could not fail," breaks in the girl, her countenanceagain clouding over. "Is there a doubt, Mam Shebotha?"
"There's always uncertainty in these things," rejoins the sorceress;"and in the _love-spell_ more than any other. As you know, love is thestrongest passion, and therefore the most difficult to control."
All this, by way of making safe her bargain, for well knows she herspell will not bring back Aguara's love, lost to Nacena; and as the bulkof the reward promised will depend upon this, she has yet anotherproposal to make that may ensure its payment. She acts as one who wouldhedge a bet, and drawing closer to the victim of her delusion, shesays--
"If Nacena should ever want the paleface put to sleep by that otherspell, Shebotha will administer it."
As the fiendish suggestion is spoken in a whisper, the three listenersdo not hear what it is. They can only guess by the behaviour of theyoung girl that some offer has been made which she indignantly rejects.This can be told by her rejoinder, and the air in which she delivers it.
"No!" she exclaims, starting back with an expression of horror upon hercountenance. "Never, never! If Aguara be untrue to me, it is no faultof the paleface. I know that; and have no vengeance for her. But forhim--ah! if he have deceived me, it is not she, but he should sufferpunishment. And punished he shall be--by my brother."
"Oh! your b
rother!" returns the sorceress with a sneer, evidently inanger at having her offer so rejected. "If Kaolin can right yourwrongs, let him." And she adds, making to move off, "I suppose youhaven't any more need for me, or my services."
"If she haven't I have," cries Gaspar, springing out from the place ofconcealment and seizing hold of the hag, while at the same instantCypriano flings his arms around the Indian girl.
"Come, Mam Shebotha!" continues the gaucho, "it's my turn to have a talkwith you."
She makes an effort to escape, and would cry out; but cannot, with hissinewy fingers around her throat.
"Stop your struggling!" he commands, giving her a shake till her oldbones crackle at every joint. "A cry, a word from you above a whisper,and I'll close your windpipe so that you'll never grunt through itagain. Come, _muchachos_! Let's to the other side! One of you bringon the girl. _Vamos_!"
Raising the hag in his arms he bears her off, with no more care for hercomfort than if she were a trapped wolf. Nacena is borne more tenderlyin Ludwig's arms, into which she has been transferred, by a sort oftacit understanding between him and his cousin--the latter walkingalongside. No threat hears the girl, nor needs it to enforce silence.For she is no more apprehensive of injury, now knowing him who carriesher as her brother's old playfellow. Above all, does she feelreassured, on hearing whispered in her ear--
"Have no fear, Nacena! Am not I the bosom friend of your brother? _Iwill not deceive you_."
Does she note the earnestness of his words, and the significant emphasisgiven to those last pronounced? Whether or not, she refrains makingrejoinder: but suffers herself to be borne on through the scaffold tombswithout resistance, and silent as the forms reposing upon them.