 Book III, Chapter XI of the Spy Company, A Story of the Mexican War by Archibald Clavering Gunter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon. Book III, Chapter XI, The Glory of His Fighting. The midday hush of the prairie is around her. Its hot sun is blazing down upon her when astrella reopens her eyes to a day of strange passion with its astounding joys and curious fears. For a moment she looks about her astonished. Then physical anguish makes her remember. Every joint in her delicate body seems to have been wracked and made stiff. She who had been considered a dashing equestrian on Harlem Lane, New York, discovers that the wild, long night ride of the prairies has been altogether too cruel a travail for her fair limbs. But bodily suffering is effaced by the mental ecstasy. How near I am to my dear father. Then through her mind runs a stronger emotion, a stranger joy. He is by me. He is watching over me. She does not dare to ask herself, who, but glances out timidly from her leafy bower upon a little prairie surrounded by thickets of plum, osage, orange, oak, and pecan. Where their cabalata is grazing contentedly on the rich buffalo grass and over which Mr. Love, rifle in hand, is keeping an alert eye. All through this day it is apparent that very great precautions are used for her safety. Her food is given to her cold by Hampton, who apologizes. I dare not have a fire lighted. These Redskins are about us. There accursed eyes see everything on the prairie. We must lie close for, if you could travel, your maid could not. Godfrey has not been inured to horseback exercise. This is too true. Poor Zelma can hardly move at all. Every moment the careful tireless watch of the frontier is being kept about her. Ms. Godfrey has heard Hampton whisper to Love. If we are surrounded these girls are incapable of taking the saddle, therefore keep the look out of your life, old man. But your gizzard has answered while Harry promptly. Once she has been cautioned by the captain of the Rangers, remember the Comanches are about, or Estrella has wandered timidly away into some cotton woods and willows, which mask a little stream that trickles through the prairie to join the waters of the Blanco. I just wanted to wash my face. She mutters. Shucks! You'd look pretty enough if you didn't wash at all. Mr. Love has remarked authoritatively. Unfortunately, Ms. Godfrey's beauty is that of nature, or it would all have been torn from her by the wild ride of the night before. Even now her fair cheeks are covered with dust, and her lovely hair, having escaped from its confinement, is hanging in tangled curls about her, well below her waist. It's hardly fair, Captain Hampton, she says bashfully, but harshly, to look at me before I've made a frontier toilet. For he is gazing with tender commiseration at his exhausted charge. He brings her some wild flowers he has plucked in the glade, and places carefully a saddle for her to sit upon. She is pleased to see he can't keep his eyes off her. This is not to be wondered at, as passion has made her bright face exquisitely tender, and the masses of brown hair, unconventionally but effectively secured about the graceful head, permit the sun to shine through their loose vans, and tint them golden. But all the time the girl notices that though sharp Hampton apparently wishes to linger in her presence, there is a nervous restlessness in this man of energetic temperament. It is not fear of Indian pursuit, she is sure, for in making arrangements with love about this matter the ranger's tone is cool and incisive. Perceiving that his eyes at times rest wistfully on their horses, she murmurs a slight reproach in her voice. Ah, you're anxious to get on your journey. I am for military reasons, he answers, but I'm more anxious to put you safe at your father's hacienda. Then I won't detain you. I can ride. I know I can ride. Just let me run about a little, and I'll be as active as a fawn, asserts Miss Godfrey. But Hampton, looking at the reclining Selma, who's well-molded, yet languid Creole limbs, have not been enured to horseback exercise answers. I believe you could, but your girl can't. Selma shall, cries Estrella, striding to the recumbent octoroon she speaks in mistress' tones. You must travel! But finds that nature is stronger than her commands, and her slave cannot. Then come the long hours of waiting, Hampton in love, from points of vantage carefully watching the prairie. Gazing at them, Estrella smuggles Shrop's flowers into the bosom of her tunic, and grows petulant, as she gets comparatively little of her cavalier's attentions, for which now she is beginning to long, yet dread. Dread because she fears herself. She is alarmed at the strange misery in her heart, as she thinks of Carmelita's passion for the frontier captain and shutters. That dancing girl saved his life, while I only put danger on it. Wild Harry, happening to be near her, she diffidently whispers to him. Did Carmelita's warning out on the prairie, the one she risked her life to bring, save him from the Mexican lancers yesterday? Of who? Why, Captain Hampton, of course, shocks no, answers the frontiersman. We'd expected that danger all along, and allowed for it before we started out from Corpus Christi. We talked of it again when we see the greaser at the ferry with his horse marked with a South Rio Grande brand. Of course, we didn't guess that a war band of Comanches was upon the trail ahead of us. But the minute we saw their smoke signals, we'd fixed our plans, just exactly how to make the greasers and redskins wipe each other out. Ah, then Carmelita didn't save the captain's life. She asks, quivering with jealous eagerness, Nairy a little bit, answers Wild Harry. Wah, sharp Hampton ain't the kind of critter, as needs any one to save his scalp on an engine's scrimmage. He can take care of himself. Didn't he once all alone upon the sand sabbath save two little children from a whole tribe of Kiowas? Why, darn it, what's the matter, we ye? For Miss Godfrey has turned away her eyes full of tears, but blighted up with a strange, wistful delight. Shortly after, blushes burn up the tears. The octaroon has looked atcharp with grateful eyes ever since he carried her through the ride of the previous night. Chancing to be in attendance upon Miss Godfrey, and noting the Texan's gentleness in handling the horses as he makes some changes in their pasturage, Zelma suddenly exclaims, Oh, if a man like Captain Hampton could be my master. Captain Hampton, how could he be your master? asks Estrella, astonished. Why, why by marrying you, of course, Miss Estrella? Sometimes I've thought as he looked at you his eyes meant, but her mistress stays her with a half-scream of bashful rage. Not another word my heaven if he hears you. She almost daggers from Zelma, the red blood pouring up through her face till her very skin seems to burn. For an hour the words of her maid make Miss Godfrey strangely cold to the captain of Rangers whenever he approaches her, lured even from his duty of guarding her by the desire to look upon her bright face. But soon coldness is afaced by a new wild joy. Before she had seen her Texan cavalier use the strategy of the back woods and the arts of the frontier to save her from savage enemies, now she has the glory of beholding him fight for her. Hampton is seated by Miss Godfrey telling her how he hopes on the morrow to put her in her father's arms. His hacienda is but forty miles away, he says. As the words leave his lips, Astralis sees his whole appearance change. His eyes that have been soft and tender suddenly light up with a cold gleam with which he had cowed the Mississippi gambler, only more deadly, more awful. Do her, he says, as he forces her down behind the bundles of the back mule. Use your pistols. Turning she utters and a frightened cry. In the middle of the glade in full war paint mounted on his war pony like a statue of bronze, the sun lighting up his gleaming skin and glittering arms is a young Comanche brave. He is setting an arrow in his bow, but as he draws the feather shaft to its head a rifle cracks sharp as a whip from the outlying thicket, and with a stream of blood spouting from his breast the warrior uttering one wild yell that echoes through the timber falls from his horse and dies. Not to shoot this time, the skunk seed us. I'll take his pelt, cries love, and springs out into the open. But a band of eight braves comes dashing round the misquit bushes and in a second Harry is on the ground, pinned by a Comanche lance through his arm. To run to his aid would be too late for Harry's life. So now the Ranger Captain, standing like a statue, gives out death. To the report of his revolving pistol the savage raising scalping knife over love falls dead. Then three times in quick succession his deadly marksmanship shows itself in three falling warriors who sink from their horses. Another dies to the crack of love's pistol who lying upon the ground has fired again. Hwa! That sickened them, screams Harry. As the other three turn and dash madly off, though one leaves an arrow driven through love's wounded arm. Not one must get back to their band, cries Hampton, as he seizes the riyadh of his steed. Springing upon the bare back of the horse, armed only with the pistols and bowie-knife in his belt he dashes off calling to Harry, C to the Indian Mustangs. Follow him, follow! He's going after three, cries the girl frantically to love, who with the arrow still skewering his arm is hastily shooting the writerless war ponies. One of these has run out onto the main prairie, pointing to it while Harry says, if it gets back to the Comanches its track will guide him to us, follow it and kill it, for your life. First let me bind up your wounds. You'll bleed to death, falters this trella. No, I'll tend to myself, get out on that prairie, kill that horse, give pistols in your belt, kill the engine's horse. That's our lives. While they excited she runs out upon the prairie and creeping within range of the Comanche warpony that has stopped to crop some pleasant grasses, for a moment cannot kill the beautiful creature. Then murmuring, it is his life as well as mine, and remembering the marksmanship he had taught her, she raises her revolver and slaughters the beast with three nervous trembling shots. But her pursuit has taken her well out on the prairie. From here she can see Hampton gaining stride by stride on the three Indians, for his horse is fresh and theirs are tired by the war trail. For just a moment she gives a shudder of apprehension. Comanches are no cowards, nothing but one man following them the three warriors turn. Even at the distance she can hear the twanging of their bows and see the war arrows flashing through the sunlight. She runs frantically towards them. Her pistol may aid sharp. Probably the embarrassment of her presence would give him death, but fortunately the distance is too great for her to reach them. Even now she sees Hampton spring off his horse, standing behind it and making a pivot of it as the Indians circle round him, resting his long dragoon pistol over the animal's shoulder. He takes three long shots. The heavy revolver does its work. One Indian falls dead, another desperately wounded is half dragged by his pony into a mesquite thicket, then the other flies. She sees him speed off over the prairie followed by sharp. Till pursued and pursuer pass out of sight around one of the timber moats of the prairie. And she stands gazing, gazing so eagerly. She never notices the slight waving ripple that gradually draws nearer through the long prairie grass which rises almost to her waist. After a few minutes that seem an age one man comes writing back, recognizing him as Trela gives a sigh of joy. The tears coursing down her cheeks as she is thanking God. But not approaching her he gallops hurriedly into the chaperrill where the wounded Indians must hang had dragged the warrior. A moment later he dashes out of the thicket and arching his horse to its full speed flies straight towards her across the prairie calling, use your pistol, quick, your pistol. On what? Suddenly the girl sees on what. Rising before her, wounded but deadly, is a command she brave. Blood is dripping from his naked painted body. All he wants is her young life before he dies. Half crawling, half staggering, he drags himself towards her. His eyes malevolent, his knife upraised. With trembling fingers the girl shoots and misses. Then shoots again but doesn't stay him. What is another flesh wound to a command she with a scalp in his very hand? She is fumbling in her belt for her other pistol and trying to pray. The brute's hot fetid breath is on her face, his knife uplifted. When to the horse bark of the ranger's big revolver, the savage falls groveling at her feet, the blood spurting from his head. Hampton has shot from the back of his mustang at full speed. The impetus of his horse takes him past her. As he passes her, Estrella finds herself plucked from the prairie and gathered in his arms in front of him. Then they go dashing on. To save you I had to let the warpony of that dead Indian get away. A riderless horse will tell the command she's that their party has been slaughtered. Vengeance will give them speed. We've got to light out. Bring on to me while I take you into camp. These are quick words as they fly across the prairie. So nestling to him she rides in his arms, blushes on her cheeks and whispered thanks on her lips for the life he has given her. Through her light fawn skin tunic he can feel the quick throbbing of a rounded bosom. It sets his heart to beating also. Her face confronts his. Her eyes gleam into his, then drew bashfully, and her head with all its wealth of soft brown hair that blows out in the light prairie wind falls on his shoulder. The ranger's hand, which had been very steady as he pulled trigger on Indian Braves, quivers as he holds to him the dainty body of this graceful creature, which hands him and makes him tremble with a tender passion. A short, blissful ride neither speaks, but the girl's head hangs lower and lower on his shoulder, and his clasp is more possessive about the slight waist and exquisite limbs that nestle closer and closer to him. Still their lips are silent. For between their beating hearts are the words of the young Dragoon, keep my loved one safe, Hampton, for it is my life. So he gallops into camp, but doesn't pass astral to Harry as he had done the octaroon girl the night before, for he glides off his horseback, still bearing a loved burden in his arms, as if he could not give it up. Though even as he dismounts, he is speaking rapidly. Quick, Harry, how is your wounded arm? All right, Zelma did a good job binding it up, only a flesh wound. Then get up the horses. One of the Comanche ponies escaped me. We must light out, and the captain goes to packing the mule. For love says, I can bridle the plugs anyway. Now, Miss Godfrey, whispers Hampton. This time he doesn't refuse the little foot that is extended to him, but swings her into her saddle. Quick, Zelma! For the octaroon with the langer of her race, half-sops, I cannot go, I'm too tired, my limbs ache so. Then Miss Godfrey discovers a new feature in the Texas captain. He says, girl, you have got to ride. Now love's wounded, my arms must be free. Up at once your legs will get easier with exercise. But Zelma, hesitating, with a single gesture, he swings her into the saddle, commanding, ride, ride or buy heaven. I'll leave you to be scalped. Ride, you've got to ride. Then the cavalcade dash off. Turning in his saddle, he says to love, Harry, if Zelma falls off her horse, we must tie her on, that's all. Then he gallops by Miss Godfrey's side, asking her anxiously, you feel strong enough? Strong enough? Oh, she whispers buoyantly. I could ride in your, her face grows red as the prairie roses, by your side all night. Yet every stride of her Mustang, bringing her nearer her father, makes her heart grow heavier. She is approaching the place where they must part for the present. For now she has linked this man, who has saved her from savage enemies with her future. For chance as they ride along, Hampton talks himself further into her good will. He seems to have lost all of that quaint southern dignity that had made him formal during their first intercourse, anxious to make her forget the dangers of pursuit and the fatigues of enforced horsemanship. He tells her stories of the border, of Davy Crockett, Bowie and Milam of the War of Independence, of Gillespie, Sam Walker, and Jack Hayes of Indian fame, of the great fight on the headwaters of the Guadalupe, sometimes called that of the Pinto Trace, wherein fourteen Texan rangers under the command of Hayes had driven eighty Indians for six miles, slaying nearly half of them, with a loss of three men killed and four wounded. Likewise he describes the ill-fated Meyer expedition, where he and company with two hundred and seventy Texans. After killing seven hundred Mexicans, surrendered from lack of ammunition. How recaptured after their attempt to escape? They had been decimated by order of Santa Ana, a gourd having been placed before them filled with beans, each one representing a man's life, nine white to one black, which meant death. How he had drawn, by the mercy of God, a white bean. How old blackburn, to whom fate had given one of the black beans, adjuringly called out, Boys, I always draw a prize in every lottery. And had gone laughingly to stand up against the adobe wall and die. To this last the girl listens, her eyes lighted up wild and horrified, as she thinks trembling at her own emotion. If he had drawn a black bean. Noting her nervousness, sharp whispers reassuringly, but a few miles more to your father's hacienda, and you? Then, then I go on to San Antonio. No, I cannot stay. For she has said some pressing words of hospitality. Duty calls me, I must ride through the night, he answers. But should you want me at any time in stress like the present, if I am not dead or across the border fighting for my country, send for me. And if horse flesh will get me there, his face tells her the rest. Yet during this ride, at times a weird and uncanny horror seems to smite Hampton's very soul. Estrella has noticed this ever since he encountered the Comanches. You're not sad about the Indians you killed? It was to save my life, she whispers. Then is horrified at the jeering, yet awful laugh, which is his answer. Sorry at killing those red devils? He breaks out, sorry? He bows his head upon the saddle, and tears run down between his brown hands. Oh, you don't know my life. Or you'd not ask me that, he mutters. You have perhaps wondered why I haven't all the rough diction of the prairie, that I sometimes speak as people living in the cities. I was educated at college for two years, and then went back from my sophomore year to our plantation in Shelby County, Texas, where I had a loving father, a dear mother and a sweet sister. When I arrived there, a bleakened prairie greeted me, where there had been gardens and a cottage with woodbinds and Virginia creepers climbing over it. A desert where there had been a happy home. And that was all, all. No living thing but the hoof tracks of the war parties told the massacre of my family. Since then I have been alone. That's the reason, Ms. Godfrey, why my name has been connected with so many bloody deeds done on this frontier. To protect other men's homes from those red devils, I entered the Texan Rangers. I never have taken life but to save life. I am not a dualist, like a good many of our boys are, I can help it. The no man, I think, can say sharp Hampton ever turned his back on him. Anyway, that's my history. You don't think my hand has wanton blood upon it? What, when it has protected me this day? And the girl leaning over her saddle extends her own hand to the Texan Ranger. It is gripped so that she screams from very agony. Oh, forgive me, he pleads. Why, you can grip it again, says Estrella bravely, and extends her delicate fingers once more, then gives a little agitated cry as the tenderest kiss is placed upon it. Fortunately, the night is dark. They are riding through the prairies that are opening. The waters of the Atascosa Creek, heavily timbered, are on their left. A light gleams on the prairie. It is one of the outlying cabins of your father's settlements, he says almost sadly. Have we ridden 35 miles? She asks, astonished. Not yet, your father's acres are pretty numerous, but we've come very quickly, yet not too fast. His face is serious, he cries suddenly. Quicken your pace, urge your horse. Why, we're nearly there. Listen to the Comanche hooffeats behind us. Quick, Harry, whip up Zelma's Mustang. As her steed springs under her, Estrella can hear the sharp sounds of the cuerta as it has flied behind her on the tired horse. But now more lights open up before them. They have dashed past several log cabins and loved, spurring up from the rear cries, those skunks have quit at the lights of the settlement. Yes, but drive on, cries Hampton. You never know when a Comanche's beaten. So they rush on again, at our just in time, to the right are pattering hooves trying to head them off. But now, riding past Virginia rail fences, there is a blockhouse at which they are challenged and the ranger cries, Comanche's behind us, boys. A scattering volley in the pony's hoof sounds pass away into the darkness of the prairie from which they came. Indians do not often face palisades with rifle fire behind them. A moment later, there is quite a crowd about Estrella and her party. Rough men, some with German accent and two or three Negroes. But I'm hearing who it is, the garrison of the blockhouse, set up a yell and drive Miss Godfrey nearly frantic with joy. Well, they tell her her father is at the Hacienda, having arrived there the day before. You must stay and let him thank you, Estrella whispers. Only tonight, tomorrow you can go on. No, love goes on now. Though tough is Whipcord, you've seen his pluck. He is a wounded man and I must follow him and see he gets into San Antonio de Bexar safe. When the regiment rides down, they'll be coming soon, en route for the Rio Grande. I'll try to run over and see you. They still are at the blockhouse, arranging that Selma be sent on by wagon, Miss Godfrey's maid being utterly exhausted. Love who has been looking on uneasily now says in wild, nervous tone, no further cap. You know, I can't stand the looks of this air place. Over thar, beyond the cross timber. My poor old Mammy lived. Let me get on to San Antonio, as we agreed and good luck to you, Miss Godfrey. And, says the girl, whenever you need a friend or water resting place, remember Estrella Godfrey. Come back. This place was the home of your boyhood. It'll be your home as long as I have any influence with my father. And I think I have a good deal. She adds in radiant confidence. Then breaks out her soul and her eyes. My father, Hampton, think. My father, let us get along. My father is waiting for me. My father, whose face I will not know, whose kisses I never remember. Then the two ride on together alone. Think, think, says the girl, in excited gratitude, as their horses pace side by side. If I had not met you, it would have been to me as if the son had never risen. Mother's Hampton, half to himself. You said, if I wanted you to send for you, remarks Estrella, pensively. Then suddenly asks, half artfully, half indignantly. You wouldn't come unless I sent for you. The Texan captain, half turns to her in his saddle, but answers resolutely. No, never until I'm wanted. For the words of young Pelham, the Dragoon are yet in Hampton's mind and still his tongue. Then wounded pride keeps the young lady silent, as coming through fruit lands and passing big cotton fields and huge cattle corrals and being challenged by two or three sentinels who are all alert, but the place has almost the appearance of a frontier fortification. They ride up to the strong adobe walls and heavy timber doors of the Hacienda of live oaks. And after some parlay are admitted. In the big courtyard, half patio, half garden, a man dressed partly in the costume of the prairies, partly in that of the city, comes hurriedly to meet her. To him, Hampton cries, Jim Godfrey, I've brought your daughter. And Estrella screams, father. At this the man muttering, daughter. And holding out his arms, the girl falls into them and greets him with tender kisses sobbing. Thank God at last, my dear father. Then for he has only saluted her forehead, she says archly, yet lovingly, my lips, papa, my lips. And holds up for his caress two rose buds made sweet by a daughter's happy affection. From this sacred meeting, the ranger steps a few paces away. Some minutes afterwards, despite the hospitable protests of the head of this great estate, and his thanks for bearing his child to him, he says shortly, military duty won't let me stay. Taylor has marched for the Rio Grande and Hayes's regiment must go after him. To this Godfrey cries, hurrah, there'll be big government contracts and lots of profit. Wondering how the father can think of Pelf with his exquisite daughter just given to his arms and her first kisses warm upon his lips, Shrop turns away. Undeterred by even the young ladies detaining grasp and faltered thanks and in treating eyes, he wrinks her hand and mutters. Farewell. But in the very archway of the Hacienda he looks back. The lights from the Adobe building illumined the woman of his love, nestling in her father's arms and prattling how she has come from the world to make his frontier fireside less lonely. It is the vision of a home he will never have. With a sigh, the ranger captain turns his horse through the heavy gates and spurs away into the darkening night on the lone trail over the prairie to San Antonio de Bexar. End of chapter 11, recording by John Brandon. Book four, chapter 12 of The Spy Company, a story of the Mexican war by archable clavaring gunter. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon. Book four, Ms. Scottfrey's father. Chapter 12, My Dear Daddy. That evening Ms. Scottfrey goes in very happily on her father's arm to supper. This has been hastily spread late at night. To him she says, her eyes lighting up as they sit down. For the first time at the head of your table, My Dear Daddy. It is a profuse meal, though served in homely frontier style by a bright-faced, mulatto girl called Millie. Over it she tells her father of her journey from New York and her adventures after leaving Corpus Christi. Perhaps her account of the ranger captain's care and guardianship of her is slightly too fervid. During this her father looks at her once or twice with so perturbed accountants that she says hastily, you don't think I did wrong in coming across the prairies alone with a frontiersman? You know it was to see you. I had got so far, I felt that I couldn't wait any longer for your kisses. Then she questions a diffident confusion on her features. You don't think I'm too grateful to Captain Hampton? Oh, that's all right. Your journey's over. That's the end of it, remarked Scott Free. You're too tired, my child. There is a slight hesitancy in his expression. Best go upstairs. Zelma, your girl has arrived by wagon. What you want is to sleep for a day or two, he suggests. Oh, I'll wake up tomorrow for my first day with my father. Putting her arms around him, the girl kisses him tenderly and runs upstairs where she finds that a plain chamber in this backwards house has been made as pretty as possible for her use. It is handsomely furnished for the frontier, has flowers and jugs upon its tables. She has also noticed in the sitting room a piano that has been purchased for her in New Orleans and sent up by wagon from Matagorda. From her window, she looks out upon the prairie to the west and sighs to the night wind. Hampton then goes to bed and though worn out, sleeps asleep, that is not always dreamless, for in it are Indians and war hoops and rifle shots and she rides again in the ranger's arms on his bareback steed. That blissful ride when he had plucked her from the death that seemed to claim her. The next morning Estrella awakens to find the bright sun lighting up her pretty chamber and to sniff the perfume of flowers that Millie is placing about it. The wench with a little salute says, Missy, Massa said, as how he wouldn't expect you to breakfast this morning, he loud you might be too used up. Not too tired to meet my father, cries Estrella and springs out of bed smelling the beautiful flowers with which her room is decorated, she murmurs to herself, Daddy, he thought of me this morning. He has plucked these himself. In the adjoining room her maid is working on the little wardrobe brought across the prairie. Zelma is my muslin frock ironed, she asks. It must have been must fearfully on the mule. Miss Godfrey, always feminine, though she has brought with her only one gown, has selected one that she feels sure will make her look well in her father's eyes. She glances at her watch and cries, Mercy, nearly twelve o'clock. Papa will be waiting for me. To her maid she says, you seem tired, Zelma. Just make me pretty for my father, then take a rest and laughs. No more an Indian maiden. Dad shall see how his daughter looked civilized. Miss Godfrey, her eyes full of love, trips down stairs and pouts to find that her father has ridden out five hours before to look at his cotton fields. A bright idea flits through her mind and calling Millie, she goes to work at Domestic Matters. From these she springs her face radiant. As about an hour after, Godfrey comes riding up to the house and throws his reins to a negro boy. Running out to him she cries, Come into lunch, Papa dear, and see what a housekeeper your daughter is. Putting a kiss on his lips, she leads him into the dining room, which had been quite homely in style and furnishing, but now has been made under her hands bright with flowers and its table adorned with snowy linen. What do you think of a civilized meal? she says proudly. Ah, you expect company. Ask Godfrey, a curious nervousness in his tone, his eyes opening at unwanted luxury. For till this time he had lived in almost backwards manner. His bearing being that of a man unaccustomed to the world. His face one that is born the brunt of outdoor life. His clothes and manner also indicate he is a plain frontier planter. This only makes his daughter more tender to him. She cries, No, only you. Nothing is too good for you. Look, prairie roses on the table and of that everything cooked that Millie said you liked. So they sit down, she radiant, and he quite well content. But the meal being over and Millie having gone away, she says, actually standing before him. Take a good look at me, Dad. What do you think of me civilized, Papa? See, silk stockings and slippers. She displays in daughter's freedom dazzling ankles exquisite in their molding and dainty feet decked in Parisian style. Then suddenly gasps, You, you're not ashamed of me. For a red flesh has flown over her father's face and there is a somewhat abashed look in his deep eyes as he gazes on his daughter's loveliness. No, he stammers, but I... I was afraid with your fine dresses and highfalutin' things you might be ashamed of your frontier, Daddy. Apparently almost forcing himself, he glances at the beautiful figure the girl makes before him, favoring with a little paternal pat her superb shoulders that gleam white as marble under the sheer muslin of her corsage as he continues, I was afraid you might put on shines with me and be hard to control and... Oh, no, Father! She says simply, her eyes lighting up with devoted love. Understand me, I intend to give a daughter as full an entire duty to you. At this declaration, God for his face becomes easier. He takes Estrella's little shell-like ear between his big thumb and strong forefinger, gives it a slight pinch and laughs. Then be very careful, Miss. Flushing, yet pleased at the familiarity, for until this time, her father had been somewhat more formal with her, she whispers. That's the way I want you to treat me, just as if I had been brought up here on the plantation and had always been under your charge and accustomed to obey you. That's it, Dad, accustomed to obey you. Accustomed always to obey you. For you will give me your guidance and direction. And correction, eh, my little girl? He observes, his tone having grown more confident and dominating. Gazing into his eyes, she says that her father will exercise the authority she has so freely yet gracefully conceded and, in the exuberant love that she has kept waiting for him all these years, she is happy in the familiarity of his control and dominion. Yes, when I need it, I suppose, she murmurs and hangs her head bashfully and nestles to him a little. But I'm going to be a very good girl. She cries in sweet enthusiasm, indeed I am, Papa dear, and seals her promise with a whole-sold daughter's kiss. Well, since my little girl's going to obey Dad and all things, remarks Godfrey, his voice quite confident, I'm going to go and look at some mules I'm shipping to Matagorda for Uncle Sammy. Who can I go with you? Why, certainly, I had feared that you were too tired. Not too tired to ride with you, she cries eagerly, but a moment after pouts, I have no horse. Why, there's that mare you rode across the prairies. What, mulefoot? Yes, Captain Hampton left her as a present for you, says her father. Oh, he always thinks of me, Miss Godfrey fleshes with pleasure. There's a tender look in her eyes that causes a cloud to cover her father's face. But this she doesn't notice, having already run from him to get ready for the excursion. The moment their horses are at the door, she comes down looking like an Indian princess, her face flushed at Hampton's gift, and pats the glossy neck of the mare, turning to her father she laughs. I'm barbarous again, no riding habit, so I'm an Indian maiden. Oh, my superintendent, will have your clothes and fixings up from Matagorta very soon, remarks Godfrey heartily, and puts his beautiful daughter in the saddle. Then the two ride off together through Osage orange hedges and paths, bordered with wildflowers, for a look at the great plantation. As they lope over the cotton fields, her father explains to her the great extent and possibilities of the estate. They go into the cattle corrals to inspect the mules ready to be sent down to Matagorta for Uncle Sam. You see, there's gonna be a big war, estrella, he says cheerfully, and this is my first chance to make big money. Oh, then you'll have to leave me here and go on to Matagorta soon? Her eyes grow misty at the thought of his parting from her. Not a bit. My superintendent to his down there is a man of the finest business ability, a great friend of mine also, remarks Godfrey, adding rather earnestly, when he comes up here, I want you to like him, estrella. Of course I will, any friend of my father's, cries the girl enthusiastically, and they enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. Though once a shock comes to Miss Godfrey, standing in one of the cotton fields waiting for her father, who is giving some directions to an overseer, the conversation of a nearby Negro gang that gazed with darky curiosity on their young mistress, who has given the toiling creatures some kindly words, comes to her ears. Years like the hand of God, have been put upon us and an angel had come down on this ear plantation, orates a big congo man. Can't be no angel in hell, honey, answers a woman sadly. Then the driver cracks his whip and she places her pickin'-inny under a bush, and goes with the rest of the gang to wielding a hoe through the long rows of the unending cotton fields. Knowing the exaggerated expressions of the Negro race, Miss Godfrey doesn't give any great heed to this, regarding it simply as nigger talk. But still the whole plantation has an animalism in its great gangs of slaves working in the cotton fields under their drivers that isn't entirely obliterated by its somewhat romantic surroundings. The outlying log cabins of German settlers who cultivate their own little farms among its islands of sycamores and oaks being diversified by several blockhouses, each garrisoned by a few frontiersmen and hunters. As they ride back, her father says, word not that this place is a big one and able to protect itself, we would have been wiped off the face of the earth in these last few years by the raids of Mexican rancheros or forays of the Comanche. As it is, we have to keep a pretty sharp eye for our scalps. But this war will finish up the ranchero raiders and then this country will settle up and be frontier no more. It shall be frontier no more to you, dear Pava, from now on, remarks Estrella Gaelia as she springs off her horse, full of the idea of introducing some of the elegances of the world into her father's big adobe, Beckwood's household. Consequently Godfrey, who has departed on some plantation business, trancing to return a little later and step into his bedroom, starts astounded and questions nervously, What are you doing here, daughter? Mending dad's trousers, replies Estrella. This is quite evident, the fair princess of domesticity with the sleeves of her dress rolled up to her dimpled elbows is seated in daughter's familiarity at work with needle and thread on his frontier wardrobe, which in truth has much need of attention. By gum, he mutters. That's real kind. Even fear of a hiding won't make Millie keep the buttons on. And he looks grateful but shame-faced as Estrella cries, Papa dear, you are to buy a new suit of clothes the next time you go to Matagorda. Your daughter wants you to look scrumptious. At his supper also he finds some confections. The young lady had learned to manufacture from Mr. Martin's chef in New York. These appeal to her father's palate so greatly that he says, daughter, them kick-a-shaws are better than any I have ever eaten in the Tremont house Galveston. For this is the nearest to the great world Estrella discovers Gottrie has been in the last twenty years. Reflecting that during all this time he had been accustomed to nothing but this rough and tumble frontier plantation devoid of all elegances of life until she entered his doorway, the girl sighs to herself, and dad endured all this to give me a fortune. Whereupon she introduces a little more civilization into papa's life by sitting down at her piano and singing, as he smokes his cigar, some of the tunes that have lately pleased New York. As she finishes, Gottrie says, you've made a new world for me, my daughter. God bless you. I don't want you to ever go away from here again. No, father, I won't. That's right. You marry some Texas fellow who won't take you from me and will settle down here. Yes, father, her cheeks are blushing. Some Texas fellow who won't take her away from here. She knows one. Ah, I'm glad you see the thing in my light. Observes her father pleasantly as she sits herself by his side and takes his big hand in her little one. Papa says the girl suddenly, Captain Hampton must have spent a good deal of money for me. There is that horse that Zelma rode and other expenses. Oh, as to the money, I'll take care of that, replies Gottrie rather testily. His voice has a slight command in it as he continues. Don't you trouble Hampton? As to the Mustang, your gal rode, it has already been sent on to San Antonio. By the way, he adds, you went down at my office and registered her in our livestock. Cracky, I never guessed you had such a valuable piece of property in New York. That girl with her white skin and fine lady heirs will bring $2,500 in the New Orleans market if she'll bring a cent. Oh, you'd never think of selling her, cries Estrella. Mother had Zelma sent she was almost a child. Don't you remember? You wrote once that if she was faithful to me, Zelma should have her freedom. What? Man you mit that likely piece of goods? That ain't Jim Gottrie's way, cries her father angrily. Then he stammers. I, I wrote about her? And looks astounded. Yes. But that was before you were wounded at Rock Springs, replies the girl. Wounded so you couldn't write to us for nearly a year. Though noting the hand she holds in hers bears the signs of injury, she is somewhat astonished to see that it is his left one, not his right. Oh, ah, yes, answers Gottrie hastily, but at that time I had so much upon my mind the wench probably went out of it. I had to build up this plantation and resettle it. When I came back here there wasn't a living thing on all this place but a dog. Every nigger had run off, every white slaughtered. Except Harry Love, cries Estrella. What? Who's he? These are too hasty and anxious questions. Why the ranger I told you of? Who with Captain Hampton escorted me across the prairie, Harry Love, who was a boy here before the massacre. Before the massacre? Shudders Gottrie, the horror of that awful time seeming to come into his face. Yes, his father and mother lived over there in the cross-timbers and were killed with the rest, but he escaped. Here Estrella is startled as she has spoken her father's features have grown almost ashen. He has staggered to the sideboard and taken a long pull of whiskey muttering. Harry Love, the boy. Wild Harry escaped. Yes, I, I remember him. And he remembers you too. He said you were the kindest-hearted man in all of Texas. He, but I couldn't get him to stop here last night. His father and mother had been killed just out there, and he couldn't bear to look upon the place. That's the reason he has never come near live oaks in these ten years. Then she half screams, Father, the recollections are too horrible for you. For he is looking at her wild-eyed and shuddering. Don't bring these recollections up to me, child. Pity your poor old father and don't let this Harry Love come here. The meeting would be as cruel for him as for me. Every old face brings up your mother and your stolen sister. And sinking into a chair, he puts his head in his hands. Stepping to him, Estrella tries to pull his hands away to kiss his face. But cannot. Apparently he doesn't wish her to see how the memories of the harrowing past have unnerved him. So she presses her lips to his forehead, reverently murmuring. Poor Papa. And goes silently away. End of Chapter 12. Recording by John Brandon Book IV, Chapter 13 of the Spy Company A Story of the Mexican War by Archibald Clavering Gunter This LibriFox recording is in the public domain. Recording by John Brandon Book IV Miss Gottfried's Father, Chapter 13 The Coming of the Superintendent The next morning all is bright again. And that afternoon coming in from his office, which is down on the road a couple of hundred yards away, Gottfried finds Estrella in daughter's freedom in his chamber, making his room more home-like. Gazing at his bed, he gasps. Sheets? Certainly sheets, laughs the young lady. There was plenty of cotton cloth in the house and Selma and I can sew. Besides, I wanted sheets for myself. She adds, archly. Well, I ain't seen sheets since I was at the Tremont House Galveston, says her father. You make me luxurious as a king-daughter. And he pats her on the head and makes her happy by calling her his good little girl. So now come to her, days happy in her father's companionship. When as princess of the plantation, she rides by Jim Gottfried's side over the Great Estate and strives to make his homely life less crude by a daughter's love and devotion. In addition, finding her father speaks Spanish. She takes to learning that tongue and is quite a number of the people who talk about the plantation jabber that language. Estrella soon becomes fluent in it after the Mexican way, which is rather different to the true Castilian. During this time, the excitement of first meeting have passed. The daughter begins to contemplate the father and finds him a man of strange weakness yet strange strength. In appearance, he is somewhat younger than she had expected, very active and strong in person and very hard in his dealings with others, though not to her. To everyone else on the plantation, he is autocratic. But to her he is always kindly in word and bearing, though sometimes strangely diffident and bashful for a father. In fact, his weakness seems only to be for her and his absent superintendent. Upon this man, from his remarks, Gottfrey appears to lean, especially in a business way. When displeased by the backwardness of work on the plantation, he so often says, if Jasper was here, things would be different. That the daughter grows rather jealous of the absent Mr. Jasper. As the days run on, everything and everybody seems to be turned to account. Millie, the dining room girl, is put to chopping through cotton in the field and Zelma, who has what little to do as her mistress's wardrobe has not yet arrived from Matagorda, is placed in the dining room. Pondering on this, as Estrella does at times when she is not by her father's side or riding with him on the plantation, which is her great pleasure, Ms. Gottfrey cannot understand how a man who has been so liberal to her in faraway New York cries every ounce of muscle in the slave gangs of the cotton fields into money. Any way she thinks this is not altogether dad's doings, it is the arrangement of his superintendent who is down at Matagorda, the man upon whom he seems to be so dependent and to lean so much, for she has heard the young boss and the hard-driving Massa Jasper in the Negro quarters. These she visits often trying to make the existence of the toiling slaves more bearable by kindly sympathy, at times demanding and getting from her father better food rations for them and once begging for them a half-holiday as it is her birthday. This strangely enough her father seems to have forgotten, though when she mentions it to Gottfrey he cries effusively. Oh yes, by Jingo, the 15th of April. How could that have slipped my mind? And gives the recreation to everyone on the plantation and quite humbly brings her this day a handsome, jeweled locket of Mexican workmanship saying, It was your mother's and was concealed in the strongbox with my money which fortunately escaped the fiends when the plantation was destroyed. Ah, thank you. Dear dad, cries the girl and kisses it. Then as Gottfrey notices that her fingers urged by woman's curiosity move over its golden surface trying to open it he laughs there ain't any inside to the thing. I've tried it a hundred times myself the baubles as solid as a nugget. Ah, but there's a spring in its handle exclaims the young lady who's more used to jewelry than her parent. See? The mechanism is very stiff from disuse but she gives a little excited cry and her agile fingers force it open. Then she eagerly asks whose miniature is this? She is looking at the face of someone painted on ivory who seems a very dim memory to her. Her father who has sprung to her apparently to aid her gives a start gazes at the locket then chokes a little and mutters your, your mother's brother I reckon. Didn't she ever speak of him? A moment after he suggests best take it out and someday I'll have a picture made for you of your daddy and goes away to superintend a festival for her natal day having flowers and fruit brought in and sending out hunters to shoot wild turkeys another game. Yet two or three times during the festivities as her father glances at the locket she has hung about her white neck Estrella imagines he half regrets the gift though he is more loving to her than ever and kisses her forehead which he has crowned with wild flowers and calls her his beautiful daughter in the next few days she inspects the picture in the locket during idle moments in her chamber yet the portrait continues only a dim memory to her she discovers in almost microscopic characters at its foot the name of Amalfi presumably the artist who painted it but this brings no suggestion with it and finally the locket almost passes from her mind the girl having other and more important matters on her brain the chief of which is her father and Captain Hampton As to the first Joy wells up in her heart hungry for his affection as at times she ponders of her father's hardness to others and his liberality to her for she concludes his open-handedness to her in New York must have been on account of his great devotion to her this is fortunate as soon after an incident arises that tests her love and makes the strain upon her obedience very heavy as the days have run on Miss Godfrey has several times spoken to her father with regard to the Texan captain who had escorted her across the prairies once or twice suggesting that as San Antonio is only 40 miles away a note be sent to Hampton asking him to visit their hacienda if he can find time from military preparation that she may thank him again these suggestions Godfrey has generally put away with the remark that he is too busy for company and hasn't the time to entertain a military lounger at her repeated mention of Hampton's name her father has looked at her sharply and seemed not over pleased at her enthusiastic gratitude to her protector of the prairies and once he has brought consternation on her by chuckling just hold your horses a little daughter soon there'll be a fine young fellow to ride around the plantation with you and do the polite she is so abashed at this she doesn't ask her father to whom he refers though she guesses finally one day a wagon arrives from Matagorta bearing Estrella's trunks you can thank Jasper for your luggage laughs Godfrey Lord how he must have shoved things to get your belongings up over these muddy roads in this time besides at my suggestion he had a feminine side saddle sent from New Orleans it's here also now you can ride woman fashion again I reckon that'll please you it does cries the girl who has already taken from one of her trunks her New York riding habit her Indian prairie costume having grown rather worn by her plantation excursions the arrival of her baggage has made Miss Godfrey vivaciously happy so she longs to look well in her father's eyes she goes babbling on dad what will you think of me in this and crying tool over white satin that will make you open your backwards eyes you never saw your daughter and decalitate Parisian bald gown in your life did you papa yet in the very midst of her delight Estrella's face grows agitated and miserable the driver of the wagon chancing to state that the news is that Sam Walker's and sharp Hampton's companies of haze regiment of rangers are already mustered in and are to start at once for the Rio Grande where things look like blood betwixt Taylor and the greasers she leads Godfrey to one side and breaks forth suddenly and nervously yet quite bashfully dad I must write to captain Hampton before he goes to battle to tell him that I've not forgotten him then pauses astounded at her father's manner or he says to her quite sharply I don't wish you to write to captain Hampton your very enthusiasm may put some foolish ideas into his head now that he wears real regular government shoulder straps foolish ideas what do you mean papa well ideas that you may have more than gratitude for him at this Estrella's face gets as red as some poppies standing on the table she says indignantly surely my father doesn't think I have been unduly forward with any gentlemen certainly not answers Godfrey Hartley then let me tell you captain Hampton's bearing to me when I was alone in his hand on the prairie was the impersonation of respect she draws herself up very hotly oh I have no doubt of that answers her father the trouble is this rough riding ranger is too chivalric and too brave it's these very qualities that make him dangerous to romantic girls therefore I judge it best that you do not write to him but father he will think me ungrateful I cannot permit that he is going to too danger I must write understand me Estrella replies Godfrey his tone more severe than it has ever been to her you have offered me a daughter's full duty and obedience that I exact from you I don't wish you to write to captain Hampton so her father goes away leaving the young lady with tears in her eyes and rebellion in her heart in the enthusiasm of first meeting it had been easy to offer obedience it is difficult now to fulfill her promise for Estrella Godfrey had been accustomed to do pretty much her own will with Mr. Martin of New York and had been but slightly chided at school and now it seems hard to her in her young womanhood when her soul is yearning to do a thing to be told thou shalt not she thinks deeply and sighs to herself I cannot let him go perhaps to death and think me an ingrate the evening of the third day thereafter she astounds her father immediately after dinner she says Papa I and hesitates and trembles something she had never done before any man I do not wish to have any secrets from you I think it right to tell you that I wrote to captain Hampton three days ago what? you mean to tell me after your voluntary promises of a daughter's duty that you have deliberately disobeyed me Godfrey sighs slowly as if he can't believe yes if that's the way you put it I did disobey you how did you send the letter his face is flushed by a terrible anger that I don't wish to tell you it might get some of your servants into trouble it will get some of my servants into trouble and Zelma, chanceing to have come into the dining room on some of her duties Godfrey says sharply to her here wench, your mistress wrote a letter tell me what she did with it master, I... I don't know stammers the octarune your face tells me that you're lying to me cries her master savagely for Zelma's pretty knees are shaking under her now if you want to save your white skin, my nigger lady tell me or I'll take you down to my office and give you the raw hide till you do here Ms. Godfrey stepping between them says indignantly you shall not punish Zelma for my fault I took the letter out myself and gave it to Pablo what? that nigger greaser who drives one of my ox teams to San Antonio asks her father his face growing more tranquil yes sir hmm, gave it to Pablo very well I suppose it cannot be helped now he says as if the affair was beyond his grasp then he commands go to your room, Strahla your disobedience has wounded me I shall not permit you to kiss me for she is pleading even as she goes away forgive me father I felt I must write forgive me perhaps Ms. Godfrey would not be so contrite did she know that ox teams travel exceedingly slowly therefore Pablo won't arrive at San Antonio until tomorrow and that a few minutes after she has told her father one of his under superintendents on horseback is speeding along the San Antonio road charged not to spare the horse late that morning Strahla waking up gasps suddenly what load is this upon my heart then remembering size for the first time I have displeased my dear father rising rather languidly from the bed after a time she thinks a ride will give her better spirits and gives her orders to this effect some few minutes later as she comes down in a riding habit Zelma says timidly to her the master Miss Strahla want you in the dining room certainly as she goes in bravely yet almost penitently to endure her father's correction little guessing that he has now in his pocket the letter to Hampton which he has just opened and read an innocent little note it reads simply Dear Captain Hampton hearing that you leave for the front I would like to say goodbye to you and thank you once more for your care and kindness to me in the long ride over the prairies as your regiment or company must pass not very far from us on its way to the south if it is possible ride over if only for a few minutes and let me say adieu to you for whose safety in battle I shall ever pray yours most gratefully Estrella Gottfrey P.S. do you recognize the little wildflower one of those you gathered for me on the prairie the rest I shall keep this postscript and this wildflower may Gottfrey very stern with his daughter as she comes in and looking lovingly yet anxiously into his face pleads father am I forgiven not until I have made you know you must never disobey me Oh Papa her face flushes as she stands before him her graceful pose in her riding habit as drooping as poor psyches when that unfortunate nymph awaited Venus's chastisement for Miss Gottfrey has never been accustomed to childish correction perchance it is the riding habit that puts the idea in her father's head he says sternly for your offense I'm going to take away from you the use of mule foot what his gift his gift makes her father very angry he says determinately yes you ride no more for the present put your foot over that mare's back and I'll have her shot oh gasps the lovely culprit and she runs out onto the porch and fondling the graceful neck of the black mare cries to the negro boy take her away quick as if she feared her father even now might destroy the rangers present coming in from this she have sobs that was a cruel threat father that was a cruel threat to barred of horseback exercise Miss Gottfrey during the next few days turns to Hampton's other present she takes to practicing at a mark with the two revolvers the ranger had given to her then in the course of time remembering his directions becomes quite deadly with these weapons and jeers herself as she makes bull's eyes it wouldn't take three shots now to kill a poor Mustang or I don't think I'd miss that Comanche the first time I pulled trigger at him then imitating wild harry she cries wah I'm becoming a frontier girl I am during these days Pablo returning from his trip to San Antonio is eagerly questioned by his young mistress to her the mestizo says yes I gave the letter to that ranger captain and then Miss Gottfrey's tone is very eager then he took a glass and knew ya and says that's all right and stuck it in him pocket he was drinking with some utter ado's ranger fellas Santos all that day is talking now is about butchering the greasers down on the Rio Grande he said nothing nothing else not a word of mouth your short was Captain Hampton Sarton Caspita everybody know that Diablo sharp Hampton then Miss Gottfrey goes silently away Pablo half Mexican half Negro but whole slave of her father has done his work very well as the poor wretch had good reason for doing having promise of a silver dollar if he lies straight and fifty lashes at the whipping post if he blabs about the letter having been taken from him by Gottfrey's orders but a month passing and no acknowledgement nor visit coming from Hampton the news being brought by teamsters that Sam Walker's and sharp Hampton's companies have left San Antonio and gone down in advance of Hayses Regiment to join Taylor's army the girl's face grows prouder yet paler the ranger seeming neglect brings her nearer to her father once more she sighs to herself I disobeyed and wounded my dear old dad by perhaps being unduly forward with this man who thinks more of killing greasers than of being polite to me and forgives her dear dad for his severity about Mulefoot and goes to making his house very pleasant for him embellishing it with many of the little feminine knickknacks which have arrived with her trunks and decking herself each evening in pretty gowns to make her father proud of her so time runs along until one morning towards the end of May Australia hears a commotion and cheering outside the gates of the big patio coming out she finds quite a little concourse of the hunters and trappers and German immigrants of the estate who are standing about some wagons which have arrived from Matagorda their cries that the war has begun and that Taylor has defeated the Mexicans in two pitched battles chanceing to hear the name of sharp Hampton mentioned Miss Godfrey gets hold of a newspaper that has been brought up by one of the teamsters and taking it to her room sits down and reads in the Galveston Herald an account of that glorious deed of arms which probably prevented the discomfort her of Taylor's army it states that the Texan Rangers under Sam Walker and Charles Hampton arrived by forced marches at Point Isabella which Taylor had made his depot for provisions and supplies though he had located his army 25 miles away on the Rio Grande having built the fortification known as Fort Brown this is the Mexican town of Matamoros but when the Rangers had left Point Isabella to join the American forces they had immediately found themselves confronted by the whole Mexican army under Arista which had got between Taylor and his base of supplies and was now about to crush the slender garrison at Point Isabella knowing that intelligence of this was vital to the American commander the men had volunteered to make their way by night through the whole Mexican army and that but too had got through alive Sam Walker and Charles Hampton this information so desperately born had been the salvation of General Taylor who leaving a heavy garrison in Fort Brown had immediately returned to Point Isabella and reinforced his base of supplies then he turned upon his foe again and fought his way once more to the Rio Grande winning the two pitched battles at Palo Alto and Rosaca de la Palma even the account of the gallant Ringgold killed mid his batteries during the first engagement or the charge of maize dragoons at Rosaca de la Palma where they had sabred the Mexican gunners and in which she sees young Pelham's name honorably mentioned is not in her mind as her eyes grow misty over the last paragraph of the article which states that both these glorious victories had been made possible by the unexampled feet of Captain Samuel H. Walker and Sharp Selby Hampton over this she gets to crying and wringing her hands and muttering he only thinks of battle then awed and ashamed of the intensity of her own emotion Estrella dries her eyes and comes down to her father the gentleman is sitting on the porch and greets her in happy voice by golly the wars commenced and they'll give us a fortune here consternation seems to come upon her father in his elation for a wild idea entering Estrella's mind places a wistful hope in her excited eyes she says hurriedly dad dad answer me one question square as you hope to see your god have you ever intercepted any letters what do you mean girl cries Godfrey starting up his face for a moment on fire then growing pallid oh I mean you have never intercepted any letters from Captain Hampton to me certainly not says her father promptly his features becoming more composed then he breaks forth you haven't had any correspondence with this man answer me square as you hope to see your god girl no father nothing but the one letter that I told you of and which you were perfectly right in forbidding me to send but I am punished for it oh heaven what a humiliation she shutters half hysterically why I kind of threw myself at his head at least I gave him a hint I and her beautiful face is so piteous that Godfrey knowing what he does should have compunctions of conscience but his daughter's confession only seems to make him alarmed and angry still judging that wounded pride will now make the penitent pliable to his wishes he controls himself and putting his arm possessively about her says I don't wish to mention this Hampton matter again understand me you are to have no further communication with this man yes my self-respect should keep me from that breaks out the girl her lips trembling her eyes full of tears and if you have not pride in this yourself matters Godfrey sternly by the Lord Harry I have pride enough as our father to keep you from it disobey me in this and I shall punish you severely yes dad she cries almost deliriously only forgive me for having disobeyed you she half hysterically throws herself sobbing into her father's arms at her submission a look of tremendous relief ripples Godfrey's stern features apparently filled with gratitude at her devotion seating himself he draws the beautiful penitent upon his knee and thanks her for her compliance with his wishes and she filled with joy that the difference between her and her father is now absolutely healed and feeling that he entirely loves her this being the first time he has ever treated her with so much paternal familiarity clinging to him sobs her heart out upon his breast so a couple of days later Godfrey thinking his daughter is well in hand makes a strelas pallid features grow very red by saying you needn't mope for gentlemen's company from now on daughter there's more news come by wagon from Matagorta my superintendent the boy who is like a son to me will be up this evening to talk to me about our big contracts for cattle to be delivered to Taylor's army he's a mighty smart fellow and tends to business and is more to my liking than these highfalutin harem scarum ranger chaps who haven't more than a dirty shirt and a sick shooter to their names have a nice supper and your wench rigged out for company in the dining room yet his room fixed up smart and put sheets on his bed cruise up a little yourself and do your politest daughter to this miss Godfrey response tenderly papa don't I always feed you well I'll have your superintendent's room in order and see that everything is as you wish so this evening a raid in pretty white muslin the girl comes tripping down prepared to make herself pleasant to her father's protege she's struck with consternation dismay and affright and she enters the supper room a gentleman whose clothes indicate hasty frontier travel but who wears conspicuously a little golden circle rises to greet her Strella says her father rather nervously let me present to you Jasper Monkton the superintendent of my plantations whom I have spoken to you about so often my trusted right-hand man and friend at these words bashful trepidation overwhelms her this meeting has been so unexpected so unannounced true the girl has heard the darkies talk of Masser Monkton and her father has spoken of Jasper but has never connected the two names with a slightly amused smile Monkton observes yes we met in Saratoga some two years ago didn't we Miss Godfrey then his dark eyes gleam possessively as they inspect the loveliness of the maid her light muslin dress displaying the graces of her figure and her beauty perhaps added to by eyes that are sparkling with a kind of modest terror for now she remembers what this man had said to her when she had rejected him two years ago saving to read her thoughts Jasper laughs slightly from your face I'm sure you recollect you were in costume at the fancy ball at Saratoga adding significantly I told you that we'd meet again Godfrey making no comment on the man's words Estrella is even more impressed being certain that her father must have known all this time of their previous meeting with this ominous thought in her head the young lady has no appetite for supper though both gentlemen chat to her quite merrily and Monkton's glances show open admiration of her beauties which had been enticing as a schoolgirl but now in her exquisite young womanhood are enchanting and overpowering the meal being finished at Godfrey's request she sings though in half hearted voice the songs she likes and even at Monkton's suggestion makes very bad work of some Italian bravura music but after this is over leaving the gentlemen smoking their cigars and drinking their hot whiskey punches together she comes up to her bedroom her face is so perturbed and startled that Zelma who is waiting for her gasps what is the matter Miss Estrella? is it because he's the chap who made love to you at Saratoga that you look so scared? to her made the mistress answers nothing but stepping out onto the veranda of her room presses her hand to her beating heart and falters should I not fear this insidious man whose hand I spurned in Saratoga who told me that sooner or later I should be his that the object of his life would be to gain me what does this mean? one here alone far from the world I find him my father's confidant and my father's master she starts shuddering at her own sinister idea but still repeats it mentally that's what was in his eyes master I saw it twice when he glanced towards my father at the table then turned his gaze on me as if I had been brought here for his wooing God help me that's what has happened to me I have been brought here by my father for this man to conquer and make his even now it scarce seems real to her but Monkton's voice is heard downstairs calling dominantly and slightly intoxicated tones Zelma, you wench skip quick with a new whiskey bottle madam, china doll turning her fair eyes over the prairie looking towards the Rio Grande Estrella whispers to the night wind Hampton, I fear I need you Hampton, you saved me from Indians save me from worse then sighs despairingly oh my God, even he's deserted me and misery and terror battle with her love End of chapter 13, recording by John Brandon