American fiction -- 19th century; California -- Fiction; Western stories
"Good! good! good!" he whispered, rapidly, in a strange bodiless voice;
"'t will serve! 't will serve! And you are a soldier too--and know how
to use it! Good, it is a Providence!" He lifted his hollow eyes to
heaven, and then added, "Come! come!"
Carroll stepped towards him. He was alone and in the presence of an
undoubted madman--one strong enough, in spite of his years, to inflict
a deadly injury, and one whom he now began to realize might have done
so once before. Nevertheless, he laid his hand on the old man's arm,
and, looking him calmly in the eye, said, quietly, "Come? Where,
Pereo? I have only just arrived."
"I know it," whispered the old man, nodding his head violently. "I was
watching them, when you rode up. That is why I lost the scent; but
together we can track them still--we can track them. Eh, Captain, eh!
Come! Come!" and he moved slowly backward, waving his hand towards the
door.
"Track whom, Pereo?" said Carroll, soothingly. "Whom do you seek?"
"Whom?" said the old man, startled for a moment and passing his hand
over his wrinkled forehead. "Whom? Eh! Why, the Dona Maruja and the
little black cat--her maid--Faquita!"
"Yes, but why seek them? Why track them?"
"Why?" said the old man, with a sudden burst of impotent passion. "YOU
ask me why! Because they are going to the rendezvous again. They are
going to seek him. Do you understand--to seek HIM--the Coyote!"
Carroll smiled a faint smile of relief--"So--the Coyote!"
"Ay," said the old man, in a confidential whisper; "the Coyote! But not
the big one--you understand--the little one. The big one is
dead--dead--dead! But the little one lives yet. You shall do for HIM
what I, Pereo--listen--" he glanced around the room furtively--"what
I--the good old Pereo, did for the big one! Good, it is a Providence.
Come!"
Of the terrible thoughts that crossed Carroll's mind at this unexpected
climax one alone was uppermost. The trembling irresponsible wretch
before him meditated some vague crime--and Maruja was in danger. He
did not allow himself to dwell upon any other suspicion suggested by
that speech; he quickly conceived a plan of action. To have rung the
bell and given Pereo into the hands of the servants would have only
exposed to them the lunatic's secret--if he had any--and he might
either escape in his fury or relapse into useless imbecility. To humor
him and follow him, and trust afterwards to his own quickness and
courage to avert any calamity, seemed to be the only plan. Captain
Carroll turned his clear glance on the restless eyes of Pereo, and
said, without emotion, "Let us go, then, and quickly. You shall track
them for me; but remember, good Pereo, you must leave the rest to me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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