Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 December 1900 — THE TEXAS CRUISER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE TEXAS CRUISER

BY T. BURLINGAME ROSS

mm CHArTER IX. —(Continued.) ■#ather,” cried the unhappy girl, sinkBjjHipon her knees, and once more claspHHher hands. “Oh, will you not save lUffrom this terrible doom? What have done that you should thus consign US’ to shame and" misery? How have I sm>r, by a single word or deed, merited |A from you? Oh, have pity on me. IHare me!" dark man stood for a few moments gazed upon the child in silence. Then her his hand and lifted her to feet. His frame trembled, and his fflk burned strangely; and once more saw that same look that had before |Hide her shudder. H“You would be saved from Jilok Tuftr he uttered, in a quick, nervous Bdsper. Yea—Oh. yes'." the maiden replied. ■She gazed up into his face as she spoke, ' It was not a kind 100k —it was not ■ threatening one. Oh, she could not ■athorn it. ■_“r have promised Tudel,” he whispered. Il have promised him; but, no! I will Mot speak yet!" a The man stopped midway in the room— Me gazed upon the girl a moment and Elen left the place. Irene stood there, Krouching away in the corner, until she Mould hear the steps of her father no Itliore, and then, with one deep groan, she MMnk down senseless upon the floor. F It was half an hour after this that Caspsandra came into the room and found her young mistress lying upon the floor. Sho hastened to her side, and with cold water and salts soon managed to bring her from her swoon. “What is it, my mistress?” the*faithful girl asked, as she held the maiden’s head fe her lap. whispered Irene, gazing Bfcerly up, “is it you?” “Yes, dearest mistress.” | “Where is my—father?” I “I know not; I have not seen him. 1 Shall I call him?” “Call him!” repeated the fair girl, , starting quickly to her feet. She gazed wildly about her, and finally, bending close to her attendant, she uttered, in a hoarse, frightened whisper: “Oh, no—l have no father, Cassandra. Never, never more! On all the wide earth I have no father! Speak not now* Ijet me think.” Irene sank into a chair and bowed her head upon her hands. She remained thus full fifteen minutes, and when she raised her head again it was fairly dark. ‘'Shall I bring lights?” asked CassanJtr*: - * “Not hero —not here. Take them to my ewn chamber; T will go thither at once, *nd do you follow quickly with the lights —quickly, Cassandra; 0, quickly! Do not leave me alone!” . The fair young attendant ires surprised and most deeply moved, but she stopped not now to ask questions. Hastening at once to the steward’s department, she procured candles, and then went up to the chamber of her mistress, where she found Irene alrendv seated upon the bed. The waxen tapers were set iu the costly sticks, and then Cassandra sat down up«n the soft divan which her mistress sometimes used for a footstool. Awhile Irene gazed upon her in silence, and then ■he went and sat down near her and drew her head into her lap. This movement startled the young girl. For an instant the thought flashed upon her that her poor mistress might have her mind turned. Yet she allowed her head to rest quietly where it had been placed, and she moved not until she felt a warm tear drop upon her cheek. Another—and another. She turned her gaze upward, and “ltene was weeping. Starting quickly up, she thiew her arms about her gentle lady’s neck, and in a low, eager tone, she cried : “What is it, Irene? O, trust me, for this heart is all your own, even unto death.” The maiden wiped away her tears, and with an effort she was calm. “Oqssandra." she said, in a low, yet distinct t one > "I ave 110 home. I have no home! I have no father any more, Cassandra. Never, never more! No father!” “But he is not dead,” whispered the maid. “Dead to me—worse than dead,” returned Irene, with a fearful shudder. “But ask me no more of him. f cannot stay here, Cassandra; it is no more my home; this roof covers a pest-spot—a charnel-house! You will bear me company.” “Yes, yes, my mistress. You will not command me in this, for only bid me stay behind, and on my bended knee will I pray that I may accompany you. But when will you goY! “As soon as possßp- Oh, to-night if I could.” “Is there need of such haste?” “Ay—as there is ot the condemned man’s breaking from pmson. They have fixed upon Monday nft as the day of my marriage.” “So soon?” forgetwhat had passed. “And will not your father save you from this?” Irene St. Marc turned pale ns death. She pressed her hands hard upon her bosom, and at length she said, in a loice fearfully distinct in its deep, moaning volume:

“He would save me from Uie pirut*— u the ravenous wolf would save the lost Jamb!” Cassandra gazed fixedly into the speaker's face, and her own cheeks turned ashen, and her own frame shook. Once Store she wound bei arms about Irene’s heck and drttw her head upon her bosom. “I will apt thee no more,” she said, speaking ,gFnily and soothingly. “Let us fOroUT. escape, and make our way ft as sodn as 'possible.” Irene made one more powerful effort, and thereby she threw .off the terrible -load front her mind, so that she could bend her thoughts to the subject in hand. “Oh, we n?u*t be very careful,” she Mid, “for Jt, feel sure that I know why |hls move is taken. L have been too bold

from the deep contempt which I have allowed to exhibit itself toward him, he has rightly judged that I meant to make my escape. For no other reason would he have made such a change in our arrangements. So, once more, we must be very careful. You are quick of wit, Cassandra; oh, help me if you can!” The young girl gazed her mistress steadily whilb she spoke, and when she had finished she bowed her head and remained for some moments In deep thought. At length she raised her eyes, and the very light that beamed therefrom told that she had gained something by her pondering. “I think I can obtain the garbs of two priests, Irene—l am sure I can. I can do it this very night. You remember my father, lady?” , “Very well. Cassandra.” “Well, Gonzales Rondo was a poor boy once, despised and turned away by the wealthy because, he was poor and friendless, and shunned by the leperos because he was of a caste above them. My father, poor as he was, and but a simple ranchero, fed him and clothed him, and by his own influence alone got him into the church, if was in this wise. Belvardo, the bishop, was in a carriage, and his horses were running furiously away with him, having thrown his postilion off. Near to my father’s house there was a frightful precipice; towards this the horses were dashing on '.in all their mad fury, when my father rushed out in front of them and seized them; they dragged him a short way and hurt him much, but he stopped them and saved the bishop’s life. The prelate forced a purse upon him, and bade him come sos any favor he might want while they both lived. But my father never went but once, and that was to ask that poor Gonzales Rondo might be taken into the holy orders; the good bishop was true to his promise, and he not only gave Gonzales a noble opportunity for advancement, but he also made him understand that he owed it all to my father. So now I know that Gonzales will help me. He is a good priest and of much influence. He was but a boy when he entered the college, and T think hje told me he still kept his novitiate suit. If we can obtain the garb of priests we cap easily escape. From the top of our house we can step directly upon the next, and from thence upon the roof of the chapel; and of course no one will think of questioning two priests coming from that direction.” “Oh, ten thousand blessings on thee, dear one!” murmured Irene, winding her arms about her companion’s neck. “Already I begin to live once more. Cassandra, when can you see the priest?” “To-night—now. I will go at once.” “But will they not suspect thee?” “No, for T have liberty to go and come as I please; the distance is not far.” “Then go at once. But, oh, be careful. Should I lose you, my last and only stay would be gone.” “And is there not one other?” Cassandra asked. “Whom do you mean?” “The young and noble American captain.” Irene St. Marc started, and for a moment the rich blood mounted to her cheeks and temples. “Alas!” she murmured, “once I might have hoped, but his people are now at war with ours, and his duty now keeps him away. I must not think of him—perhaps he never-never loved me. He will never know how devotedly I have loved him! Oh, why was it so? why did I ever see him? Clarence—heaven bless thee ever!” Words of hope were upon Cassandra’s lips, but she did not utter them; she had no ground for them, and she left them unsaid. But she pressed her lips to Irene’s fair brow, and then she said “Rest you easy here while I go to Father Rondo’s house. I will not be gone long.” “Hurry, my good Cassandra. Leave me no longer than you can help.” And when the true-hearted girl was gone, Irene locked her door, and then she sank down upon her bed.

CHAPTER X. During all the time that Irene was left alone she moved not. She lay and pondered upon the years that had passed, and upon the days that had passed. She thought of her father—and she wondered if any other child in all the country had a parent like him. She hoped not —she prayed not. Then she thought of the noble youth upon whom she had bestowed the whole of her pure heart’s love, and she wondered if he loved her as she loved him. He had never told her of his love, though she had hoped that in his looks she had read the happy assurance. a strange tale of love,” she murmured to herself, as she clasped her hands upon her bosom. “And yet, how could I help it? What to me was his nativity or his tongue? Heaven makes no nations, no castes. Oh, Clarence —Clareuce—can the protecting love of thy noble heart—the shielding power of thy strong arms, be in store for me?” At length the maiden was aroused bp hearing a light creaking from the stairs which came down from the roof, and in a few moments more some one tried htjr door. She arose and went to ask who was there, and the soft voice of Cassandra was heard in reply. “Are you alone?” the girl asked, iu a very low whisper. “Yes —no one has been here since you left.” Cassandra turned and picked.up a bundle she had dropped by the side of the door, and then came iq, and as soon as the door had been relocked, the two went back to wjicre the candles wore. Irene sat down, but she dared not ask a question; she had rested all her hopes upon her maid’s success, and she was ,fearful of eliciting a fatal answer. But she was not kept long in suspense;. you notice which way I came?.” Cassandra asked. “You came down from the roof, did I you not?” I »Yq| ” l “Hut how?” queried Irene, whose mind the difficulty of the thing.

“Ah, my mistress, good Father Rondo has been more kind than I had even hoped. Not only has he given me the dresses I sought, but he also gave me a key to the chanel. which I am to return to him.” “Bless you—bless ’’ murmured Irene, at the same time drawing the good girl’s head upon her bosom and kissing her. “We can escape now.” “Yes—easily,” returned Cassandra, raising her head. “All we have to do is simply to put on the dresses. I have brought, and then make our escape. But we will not start yet; It will be safer to wait until after midnight, for then all will be safe here in the house. We had better retire now, for there is no knowing who may come to look in upon us. If suspicion is already entertained it will not do to excite more.” , P Irene saw at once the propriety of the girl's suggestion, and erelong afterwards she prepared to retire. The candles were extinguished after a small night-lamp had been lighted, and then Cassandra lay down with her mistress. ft was not far from eleven o’cloek when a light footstep was heard near the door, and immediately afterwards some one tried tho latch. Upon the instant Cassandra commenced to 6nore. “Who's there?” asked Irene, speaking as though she had just been awakened from a sound sleep. “It's only mfr-'-old Bel,” returned the appiicant. “I thought I’d just" stop and see if you wanted anything.” “Vn T thunk yon—l want only sleep.” After this the womjin went away. Cassandra listened until she was out of hearing, and then she said: “Your fatter sent that old woman up, I am sure. I saw her in conversation with him as I pas*od his window this evening.” “I thought of that, when I first heard her,” returned Irene. Nothing more was said until the clock struck twelve, though neither of the girls had closed her eyes from drowsiness. All was quiet in the house. - _ “Now,” said Cassandra, in a low whisper, “let us up and prepare. I will make sure that there is no one about the hall.” Thus speaking, she arose and walked softly to the door, and having opened it she passed noiselessly out and looked about. But she found nothing in the way. All was still and quiet, and the lights were all out; she returned, and having relocked the doc® she raised the wick of the lamp, and then proceeded to open the bundle she had brought with her from the good priest’s. First she helped dress Irene. The black silken hose were drawn on; then the buckled shoes; then the close vest; and then the long robe. The latter garment was not an inch too long, and when the girdle was round about the loins and tied, the garb fitted well. Next she put Irene’s long, silken tresses snugly up on the top of the head, and having bound them up* she put on the tight skull cap. It only needed now the great-brimmed hat, and this the girl brought up from her bundle. Irene took the lamp and went to the mirror, and she was well pleased with the disguise, feeling sure that in the night, at least, she should not be detected. As soon as this was accomplished, Cassandra proceeded to put on her own disguise, which was just like that of her mistress. “Now,” she said, “let us pack up what we shall most need, and then we will be off. We can take one change of dress, and that must suffice in that line.” . The bundles were quickly made up, and then they turned their attention to such things as they wished to secure about their persons. Irene had quite a lot of valuable jewelry, besides about five hundred dollars in gold coin. All this she secured about her, and then sfilrsat down upon the bed. The excitement of the occasion was almost overpowering. “All is ready now,” whispered Cassandra, placing her arm about the maiden’s neck. “Do not fear for me.” Irene quickly returned; “it is only a momentary weakness—l was only thinking ” She stopped here and burst into tears. For some moments she wept upon her companion’s bosom, and finally she gazed up and brushed the tears away. “It is past now,” she said. “I could not help it, Cassandra; it was my last thought of the place- that has been so long my home. But it is over. I am strong now —let us go." The two girls took up their bundles and passed out from the room. Cassandra locked the door behind her and put the key in her pocket, and then noiselessly led the way to the roof-ladder, and thence to the top of the house. Here she blew out her light, and having set the lamp down where it w-ould not be easily seen, she started on towards the roof of the adjoining building. They walked very quietiy here, for some of the servants sletflHbeneath them. There was no mpon, but the stars were all out clear and bright, and the fugitives picked their way very easily. Having passed the roof of the second house, they came to the chapel, on the top of which there was a cupola. Upon one side of this cupola there was a door, aud this Cassandra opened by means of the key which the pyiest had given her. A few steps further and they were in the street, with the vay open before them now to go as they jjleased. , sh!” uttered ft-ene, drawing more closely to her companion, “there is a man!” “Ah, Irene, you must be more careful than that. Let come what may, we must be bold and fearless, else our disguise* will avail us nothing. But we have nothing to fear here, for I think this is good Gonzales.” And so it proved. The priest was the first to speak. r "Fear not, Indy,” he said, as he noticed Irene’s tremulousnek#. “If you have a holy purpose in view—and I believe you have—go, boldly on, but carefully. You havo the key, Cassandra?” “Yes, good father. Here it is.” “Now comp with me,” the man on Id, ns he placed the key in the pocket o# lilt gown. “I will go beyond the gati* ot tho city with you, aud beyond there you must trust to your own strength and wit. But within the city I may be of service, for if the sentinels hail us, ray identity will be passport enough for ymi.” And it was fortunate for them that Gonzales weut with them, for they were stopped by three different sentries, though no opposition was offered. Arrived at the gate, the real priest readily obtained egress, and in a few moments more they were standing without the walls of the town. There was a sense of dreariness came over Irene’s soul as she cast her eyes over the wide expanse of land and marsh which lay spread so darkly and gloomily beneath the sight. Iflit-difrii ' ii v> iViffi'i i'‘-a', v

“Which wajr sew?" she favoluntwllf uttered. “There is but one wav that I awM recommesd,” returned Rondo. “I will go with you, a little further, for I hire no desire to return too soon; we gsust take the Jalapa road, for there is sene other that would be safe. Among tome of the —stop! By the mass, I ku<jw a native not far from the road who owe* me a debt of gratitude. I saved him from the executioner’s hands not two years ago, when a party,, of them were apprehended for highway robbery; hie name is Jacar Xanpa. % will send you to him, and there you shsjl be safe. But come—l can explain as we go on.” The trio now set forward as swiftly ae the priest thought prudent. (To be continued.)