" He set off at a run, and Johnnie followed, a prey to
sudden sick misgivings.
Around the house they dashed, and into a group the center of which
was Norine herself, a gourdful of milk in one hand, a partially
devoured mango in the other. At first glance there seemed to be
nothing amiss; but the owner of the farm was dancing; he was
trying to seize first the mango, then the drinking-vessel. His
wife was wringing her hands and crying, shrilly:
"God have mercy! So young--so beautiful! What a pity!"
The two filibusters and the farmer's eldest son, all visibly
perturbed, likewise joined in the commotion, while the smaller
children looked on from the background and whimpered.
"What's happened?" O'Reilly demanded, breathlessly.
Norine turned a puzzled face to him, meanwhile warding off the
farmer's attack. "I can't quite make out," she said. "They all
talk at once. Please ask them what I've done." Mechanically she
raised the ripe mango to her lips, whereupon the ranchero, with a
yell, leaped upon her and violently wrenched it out of her
fingers.
Facing O'Reilly, the man panted: "There! You saw her! She wouldn't
listen to my wife--"
"Oh, I warned her!" wailed the woman. "But it was too late."
"You must tell her what she has done," said the fellow. in the
stiff hat.
"Well, what has she done?" Johnnie managed to inquire, whereupon
every one began a separate explanation:
"She will never become your wife.
Pages:
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237