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Frank Merriwell's Son; or, A Chip Off the Old Block, a fiction by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 24. On The Cliff |
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_ CHAPTER XXIV. ON THE CLIFF During the remainder of the day Juanita avoided Greg Carker. Evening came. Within the house the boys were singing the old college songs to the accompaniment of a piano as Juanita stole away alone and listened a long time from a corner of the veranda. Tears dimmed her eyes, and she whispered soft words to herself. "I know I'm a veree fooleesh girl," she said. "I cannot help eet. Eet ees not to be that he should care for me." Her heart throbbed with bitter disappointment. She left the house behind and wandered away through the dusky June night. Crossing the road and the fields, she came at last to Ripple Lake, on the edge of which she lingered while the moon crept up in the east. "I ought to return," she murmured. "If they mees me, they will become alarmed. But I cannot go back there yet--I cannot go back!" Her restless spirit led her round the shore of the lake until she finally found herself on a bluff that rose from the water's edge. The moon was now behind her back. At the brink of the bluff she peered over into the shadow below. A footstep startled her. With a smothered cry, she turned and found herself face to face with--Jose Murillo. "It is you, Juanita!" he exclaimed, in Spanish. "All day I have waited and watched for the opportunity to speak with you!" "Senyor Murillo, why did you come here? You promised----" "What is a man's promise to a gringo!" he retorted. "Did you think they could frighten Jose away from you? No, no, Juanita!" "But I do not want to see you." "You're a foolish girl. Why are you so determined against me? Your father gave me his promise----" "It will do you no good to speak of that, senyor. I tell you now for the last time that I do not care for you--I never can. If you are a gentleman, you will bother me no more. I'm going back now." He placed himself before her. "Not yet!" he exclaimed. "You cannot stop me, senyor!" "Oh, yes, I can, senyorita. Don't fancy I've followed you all the way from Mexico to be baffled so easily. The Murillos are determined men. I have resolved that you shall be mine!" "Never!" "That word is easy to speak. What have I done that you should despise me?" "You say the Murillos are determined men. They are, likewise, bloody men. I know not why my father favored you. I do know that my mother feared all Murillos, even as I fear you." "It is good for a woman to have a husband whom she fears and respects." "In this case fear and respect do not go together, senyor. I have no respect for you." "Then I will teach you respect when you are mine." "That opportunity will never be given you. Look, senyor, we stand at the edge of this cliff. The water is very close at hand. I wish you to understand me. Rather than become your wife, I'd leap into that water. I cannot swim." "Leap!" he exclaimed. "I will leap after you, and I cannot swim!" "Are you mad?" "It is madness perhaps, senyorita, but it is the madness of love. You must understand me now. You must understand how useless it is to fly from me. Once I thought you cared for another man. Once I was jealous of Emmanuel Escalvo. He never knew how close he walked with death. When I learned you did not care for him I put away my knife. There can be no others--unless you have met him within a few hours. I am satisfied that there is no other." With sudden indiscretion and defiance, she exclaimed: "You're wrong, Senyor Murillo! There is another!" He uttered a sudden curse. "Who is the man? Tell me his name, and he shall have what Emmanuel Escalvo escaped!" She was frightened by her folly. "Who is the man?" he snarled, suddenly seizing her. "Speak quick--speak at once!" "You hurt me, senyor!" she panted, striving to break from his grasp. "Let me go!" "I will not! I have you now, and I'll keep you! I'll never let you go!" "I beg your pardon," said a quiet voice, "but I think you're mistaken." Jose Murillo found himself sprawling on the ground. He looked up, and in the moonlight he saw Gregory Carker offering Juanita support. "Oh, why deed you come?" panted the girl. "Now he weel know! He weel keel you!" Snarling like an angry dog, Murillo leaped to his feet. The moonlight shimmered on a blade he had whipped from his bosom. "This ees the man!" he panted triumphantly, as he sprang at Greg. Carker flung up his arm, and Murillo's knife slashed his sleeve from shoulder to elbow. In a twinkling Greg had closed with the Mexican, grasping the man's wrist and holding him in an effort to keep him from using the knife. Juanita sought to interfere, but the cool, determined young American warned her back. "Leave this man to me," he said. "He has the knife!" "But I don't think he'll use it," said Carker, as he backheeled Murillo. In a moment they were down, twisting and squirming and writhing on the ground. With her hands clasped, and her lips parted, Juanita looked on, standing ready to do her best should she see Murillo free his knife hand. Carker had once been an athlete. He was not now in the best condition, but, nevertheless, he was stronger than his foe, and he finally pinned Murillo to the ground. "Drop that knife!" commanded Greg, seeking to force the weapon from the Mexican's fingers. In this attempt he had almost succeeded, when of a sudden Murillo squirmed away, rolled over and over and scrambled up. Carker rose on the brink of the cliff and again faced the man. Murillo came at him with a leap, making a savage slash with the knife. Carker dodged just in time and thrust out his foot. Over that outthrust foot the Mexican tripped. Straight forward he plunged, with a cry and a splash, into the water below. "Perhaps a cold bath will do him good," observed Carker, breathing a trifle heavily. Juanita seemed ready to faint. "Oh, senyor, you are the brave man!" she breathed. "Oh, my heart eet beat so for you! I have such a terrible fear that he would keel you!" Carker felt a strange thrill that ran over him from head to feet. "Would you have cared so much?" he asked hoarsely. "Eet would have keeled me, too, senyor!" she answered. "The lake--I should have leaped into eet! Like Murillo, I cannot swim." "Like Murillo, eh?" exclaimed Greg. "Then the fellow can't swim? Well, I think it's up to me to pull him out." He stripped off his coat, ran some distance away to a point where he could descend to the water's edge and made his way along the foot of the little bluff. Peering into the shadows, he called in vain to the Mexican. Out beyond the point where the cliff shadow lay on the water there were tiny shimmering waves, but in that shadow he could see nothing. "I'm afraid this is rather a serious matter for Jose Murillo," he muttered. "Had I realized the scoundrel couldn't swim, I'd followed him into the lake and pulled him out. I take it he's gone." Juanita called to him from above: "Can't you see him, Senyor Carkaire?" "Don't be alarmed, Juanita," he answered. "I'm coming back there. I'll be with you in a moment." He took one last look in search of the Mexican. "I had to defend myself," he thought. "I'm sorry I was concerned in it, but I think Jose Murillo will trouble Juanita no more." She was waiting in a trembling anxiety as he reappeared. He picked up his coat and put it on. "Deed you find heem?" "Not a trace," answered Carker. "He must have sunk like a stone. It's an unfortunate affair, Juanita, but you have no further cause to fear that man. Come, little girl, I'll take you back to the house. Give me your arm." Timidly she clung to his arm, and they turned their steps toward Merry Home. "Do you believe in fate?" asked Carker. "Si, senyor. Eet was fate that I should meet Senyor Murillo as I deed." "And it was fate that led me here. I have been seeking an opportunity to speak with you all the afternoon. You would not give me a chance. Every time I approached you ran away from me. Why did you do so, Juanita?" "Why deed you weesh to speak with me?" "I had something I wished to say. Juanita, I can't seem to find the words. I presume I'm rather excited. That's natural under the circumstances. It was something about you that bewitched me. It must have been your eyes." "Oo, what ees eet you say, senyor? You theenk I do not know sometheeng. On the train you tell of the girl who would not marree you--the girl who marree the other man. You meet her in the car with Senyora Badgaire. I know! I know! She ees the one! You luf her!" "I may as well make a clean breast of it," said Carker. "I thought I did once. She gave me the shake, Juanita. It's all over now." "How can you say that? You theenk me a foolish girl to believe you? Wait and I weel tell you what I see. This afternoon you meet her in the little retreat of the shrubbery. I deed not know you were there. I walk out alone. I pass the place. I see you with her." "That was unfortunate--for me. I presume it looked like an appointment. It was an accident, Juanita. It's all over between Mrs. Morton and Gregory Carker." But the girl remembered how she had seen them standing there looking into each other's eyes, while the woman's arm was on Carker's shoulder. "Wait, senyor!" she panted. "Many time I have been told all the Americans are deceivers. I know what I see with my eyes. Juanita ees no longer a child." "Oh, won't you listen? Won't you take my word?" "I weel not leesten now," she declared. "Some time when you prove to me that you no longer care for her, maybe I weel leesten. I must have the proof, senyor." "I'll prove it somehow!" vowed Carker. _ |
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