possession of Mrs. Peyton,--MY TENANT."
He paused to give effect to his revelations. But he was, nevertheless,
unprepared for an unrehearsed dramatic situation. Mrs. Peyton, who had
been tired of waiting, and was listening in the passage, at the mention
of her name, entered the gallery, followed by the young ladies. The
slight look of surprise upon her face at the revelation she had just
heard of Clarence's ownership, only gave the suggestion of her having
been unexpectedly disturbed in her peaceful seclusion. One of the
Mexicans turned pale, with a frightened glance at the passage, as if he
expected the figure of the dead man to follow.
The group fell back. The game was over,--and lost. No one recognized it
more quickly than the gamblers themselves. More than that, desperate and
lawless as they were, they still retained the chivalry of Western men,
and every hat was slowly doffed to the three black figures that stood
silently in the gallery. And even apologetic speech began to loosen the
clenched teeth of the discomfited leader.
"We--were--told there was no one in the house," he stammered.
"And it was the truth," said a pert, youthful, yet slightly affected
voice. "For we climbed into the window just as you came in at the gate."
It was Susy's words that stung their ears again; but it was Susy's
pretty figure, suddenly advanced and in a slightly theatrical attitude,
that checked their anger. There had been a sudden ominous silence,
as the whole plot of rescue seemed to be revealed to them in those
audacious words. But a sense of the ludicrous, which too often was the
only perception that ever mitigated the passions of such assemblies,
here suddenly asserted itself. The leader burst into a loud laugh, which
was echoed by the others, and, with waving hats, the whole party swept
peacefully out through the gate.
"But what does all this mean about YOUR purchasing the land, Mr. Brant?"
said Mrs. Peyton quickly, fixing her eyes intently on Clarence.
A faint color--the useless protest of his truthful blood--came to his
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