Читать книгу Chata and Chinita. A Novel онлайн

24 страница из 163

All was over in a few moments of time. John Ashley’s soul, with all its sins, had been hurled into the presence of its Judge. The self-appointed avenger staggered, gasping, against the tree; an almost superhuman effort had brought a terrible exhaustion. Every muscle and nerve quivered; he could scarcely stand. Yet thrusting from him with his foot the dead body, he thirsted still for blood. “If I could but return and kill that villain Pedro,” he hissed; “if his accursed soul could but follow to purgatory this one I have already sent! But, bah! a later day will answer for the dog! Ah, I am so spent a child might hold me; but,” looking toward the mountains, “this horse is fresh and fleet. I shall be safe enough when the first beam of the morning sun touches your lover’s lips, Herlinda.”

The assassin glanced from his victim toward the house he had left, with a muttered imprecation; then, trembling still from his tremendous exertions, he approached the steed, which, unable to break the lariat by which it had been fastened, was straining and plunging, half-maddened, after the confusion of the struggle, by the smell of blood already rising on the air.