“What delays Valerian? What can be keeping him?”
These questions came from Adela Miranda, on the evening of that same day, standing1 in the door of her brother’s house, with eyes bent2 along the road leading to Albuquerque. Valerian was her brother’s baptismal name, and it was about his absence she was anxious.
For this she had reasons—more than one. Though still only a young girl, she quite understood the political situation of the Mexican Republic; at all times shifting, of late more critical than usual. In her brother’s confidence, she had been kept posted up in all that transpired3 in the capital, as also the district over which he held military command, and knew the danger of which he was himself apprehensive—every day drawing nigher and nigher.
Shortly after his leaving her she had heard shots, with a distant murmur4 of voices, in the direction of the town. From the azolea, to which she had ascended5, she could note these noises more distinctly, but fancied them to be salutes6, vivas, and cheers. Still, there was nothing much in that. It might be some jubilation7 of the soldiery at the ordinary evening parade; and, remembering that the day was a fiesta, she thought less of it.
But, as night drew down, and her brother had not returned, she began to feel some slight apprehension8. He had promised to be back for a dinner that was long since due—a repast she had herself prepared, more sumptuous9 than common on account of the saint’s day. This was it that elicited10 the anxious self-asked interrogatories.
After giving utterance11 to them, she paced backward and forward; now standing in the portal and gazing along the road; now returning to the sola de comida, to look upon the table, with cloth spread, wines decantered, fruits and flowers on the épergne—all but the dishes that waited serving till Valerian should show himself.
To look on something besides—a portrait that hung upon the wall, underneath12 her own. It was a small thing—a mere13 photographic carte-de-visite. But it was the likeness14 of one who had a large place in her brother’s heart, if not in her own. In hers, how could it? It was the photograph of a man she had never seen—Frank Hamersley. He had left it with Colonel Miranda, as a souvenir of their short but friendly intercourse15.
Did Colonel Miranda’s sister regard it in that light? She could not in any other. Still, as she gazed upon it, a thought was passing through her mind somewhat different from a sentiment of simple friendship. Her brother had told her all—the circumstances that led to his acquaintance with Hamersley; of the duel16, and in what a knightly17 manner the Kentuckian had carried himself; adding his own commentaries in a very flattering fashion. This, of itself, had been enough to pique18 curiosity in a young girl, just escaped from her convent school; but added to the outward semblance19 of the stranger, by the sun made lustrous20—so lustrous inwardly—Adela Miranda was moved by something more than curiosity. As she stood regarding the likeness of Frank Hamersley she felt very much as he had done looking at hers—in love with one only known by portrait and repute.
In such there is nothing strange nor new. Many a reader of this tale could speak of a similar experience.
While gazing on the carte-de-visite she was roused from the sweet reverie it had called up by hearing footsteps outside. Someone coming in through the saggan.
“Valerian at last!”
The steps sounded as if the man making them were in a hurry. So should her brother be, having so long delayed his return.
She glided21 out to meet him with an interrogatory on her lips.
“Valerian?”—this suddenly changing to the exclamation22, “Madre de Dios! ’Tis not my brother!”
It was not, but a man pale and breathless—a peon of the establishment—who, on seeing her, gasped23 out,—
“Señorita! I bring sad news. There’s been a mutiny at the cuartel—a pronunciamento. The rebels have had it all their own way, and I am sorry to tell you that the colonel, your brother—”
“What of him? Speak! Is he—”
“Not killed, nina; only wounded, and a prisoner.”
点击收听单词发音
1 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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2 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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3 transpired | |
(事实,秘密等)被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 ); 泄露; 显露; 发生 | |
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4 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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5 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6 salutes | |
n.致敬,欢迎,敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎,致敬( salute的第三人称单数 );赞扬,赞颂 | |
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7 jubilation | |
n.欢庆,喜悦 | |
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8 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
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9 sumptuous | |
adj.豪华的,奢侈的,华丽的 | |
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10 elicited | |
引出,探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
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12 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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13 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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14 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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15 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
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16 duel | |
n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
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17 knightly | |
adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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18 pique | |
v.伤害…的自尊心,使生气 n.不满,生气 | |
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19 semblance | |
n.外貌,外表 | |
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20 lustrous | |
adj.有光泽的;光辉的 | |
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21 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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22 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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23 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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