Читать «Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid» онлайн - страница 713
Н. А. Самуэльян
Such was the scheme, hastily concerted between Herbert and Cubina; and which they now proceeded to execute, by conducting the young creole out of the Duppy’s Hole and commencing their descent towards the valley of Mount Welcome.
Only the two accompanied her. The Maroons, under their lieutenant, Quaco, remained behind; and for an important purpose – the capturing of Chakra.
Cubina would himself have stayed, but for a certain impatience once more to enjoy the company of his beloved Yola, who had been left among the other domestics of the desolated establishment.
The Maroon captain had perfect confidence – both in the skill of his lieutenant, and the courage of his followers. He could trust them for an affair like that; and as he parted from the Duppy’s Hole he had very little doubt that by daybreak, or perhaps before that time, Chakra would be the captive of Quaco.
Slowly Herbert and his cousin moved down the mountain. The moon, now shining sweetly upon the perfumed path, favoured their descent; but there was no need – no desire for haste. Cubina kept ahead, to secure them from surprise or danger. The young girl walked side by side with Herbert, leaning upon his arm – that strong arm, once so freely and affectionately promised. The time had arrived when that offer was accepted and welcomed – a proud time for the young Englishman – a happy time, as he walked on, thrilled by the touch of that round arm softly pressing his own – at times more heavily leaning upon him, not from any physical weakness on the part of his companion, but rather out of the pure fondness of her affection.
The strength of the young Creole had become almost restored – the effects of the narcotic having completed disappeared. She had also recovered from the prostration of spirit which it had produced – perhaps all the sooner from the cheering presence of him who was by her side.
The terrible sufferings she had endured were succeeded by a happiness tranquil and profound. She now knew that Herbert loved her: more than once within the hour had he given her that sweet assurance.
On her part there was no coyness – not a shadow of coquetry. She had responded to his vows by a full, free surrender of her heart.
And her hand? Was it still free?
Herbert sought an answer to this question as they passed onward – only indirectly, and with all the delicacy that circumstances would permit.
Was it true, what he had heard, that a promise had been given to Smythje?
With downcast eyes the young girl remained for some moments without vouchsafing any reply. Her trembling arm betrayed the painful struggle that was agitating her bosom.
Presently the storm appeared to have partially subsided. Her features became fixed, as if she had resolved upon a confession; and in a firm, but low, murmured voice, she made answer, —
“A promise! yes, Herbert, wrung from me in my darkest hour – then, when I thought
