HOW long unconsciousness held Alagwa she never knew. It could not have been for very long, however, for when she opened her eyes she saw Jack1 and the man in hunter’s costume, the only foe2 left standing3 by that short, fierce fight, still facing each other. She saw them dimly, for, though the dawn was merging4 fast into the full day, to her eyes darkness still impended5.
Nor were her eyes alone affected6; a pall7 seemed to bind8 both her mind and her muscles, holding her motionless. Idly she watched the two, with a curious sense of detachment; they seemed like figures in a dream whose fate to her meant less than nothing.
The two men had drawn9 a little apart and were watching each other narrowly. Evidently they had been struggling fiercely, for both were panting; Alagwa could see the heave of their breasts as they drew breath. The advantage seemed to be with the unknown, for Jack was practically unarmed; in his hand he had only a light stick, charred10 at the end, evidently a survival from some ancient campfire, while the other gripped a pistol.
At last Jack broke the silence. “So, Captain Telfair,” he said. “We meet again!”
[188]Slowly into Alagwa’s consciousness the meaning of Jack’s words penetrated11. She did not move; she could not move; but her eyes focused on the man in hunter’s garb12 who leaned forward, half crouching13, and glared into Jack’s face.
It was Brito. He had not even disguised himself, unless it be counted a disguise to discard his conspicuous14 red coat in favor of a neutral-tinted shirt and deerskin trousers. Had it not been for Alagwa’s dazed condition, she would have known him instantly.
As she watched, he threw back his shoulders and laughed with evil triumph.
“Yes!” he jeered15. “We meet once more—for the last time. Your friends hounded me out of Wapakoneta. Damme! but they timed their actions well! Who would have thought they would drive me here just in time to intercept16 you. The fortunes of war, my dear cousin, the fortunes of war.”
Jack did not speak, and the other half raised his pistol and went on, with a sudden change of tone: “You cub,” he hissed17, “you’ve got only yourself to blame. I warned you not to come between me and Estelle Telfair. You came—and now you pay for it. I’d be a fool to let you escape when fortune has delivered you into my hand.”
Captain Brito’s tones were growing more and more deadly. With each word Alagwa expected to hear his pistol roar and to see Jack go crashing[189] down. Desperately18 she strove to spring to the rescue. But she could not move; she could not even cry aloud. A more than night-mare helplessness held her fast.
Jack faced his foe undauntedly. Not for an instant did he remove his eyes from Brito’s. Despite the disparity in weapons he seemed not at all afraid. “All right!” he said, coolly. “You’ve got the advantage and I don’t doubt you’re cur enough to use it. When you’re ready, stop yelping19 and blaze away.”
Brito flinched20 at the contempt in the American’s tones, but he held himself in check. “Where is the girl?” he rasped. “Where is she, d— you? Where have you put her? Give her up, and I’ll let you crawl home. Quick, now, or you die.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “The girl?” he echoed. “I haven’t”—he broke off—“Find her for yourself,” he finished. Alagwa knew that he had begun a denial. Why had he stopped? Had he suddenly guessed who she was? Or was he hoping to trap Brito into some admission—playing with him in the chilly21 dawn in the very face of death?
Brito half raised his pistol, then lowered it. “I’ll find out now!” he gritted22. “You’re at my mercy. I’ve got a right to kill you and I’ll do it. I’ll count three and then, if you don’t speak, I’ll fire.”
Jack shrugged23 his shoulders. Alagwa noticed that he was edging closer and closer to the man who[190] threatened him. “Don’t wait for me,” he answered scornfully. “Shoot and get it over with, you dog. As for telling you anything, it’s quite impossible. It isn’t done, you know. Shoot, you hound, shoot!”
The last words were drowned in the roar of the heavy pistol. Brito had taken the lad at his word. But as his finger pressed the trigger, Jack struck him swiftly and desperately with his stick across the knuckles24 of his pistol hand.
The blow was light but it was sufficient. Diverted, the ball went wide, burning but not breaking the skin on Jack’s side above his heart. Before the roar of the pistol had died away, Jack had sprung in. His fist caught the Englishman between the eyes.
Bull as he was, the latter reeled backward. The useless pistol, jerked from his hand, flew through the air and thudded upon the ground. An instant he clutched at the air; then, like a cat, he was on his feet, launching forward to meet Jack’s assault.
In England boxing was in tremendous favor, and even in America, prone25 to more violent methods, it was in high esteem26. Rich and poor, peer and peasant, alike prided themselves on their strength and quickness in feint and blow. Prize fighters were honored, not merely by the rabble27 but by those who held themselves to be the salt of the earth. Brito had fought many a time, both for anger and for pleasure. Jack, less quarrelsome and less fond of the sport, was yet well trained in the use of his fists.
[191]Furiously the two men crashed together, Brito striving to crush his foe beneath his greater weight, and Jack striving vainly to gain room for a clean, straight stroke. Swift and brutal28 came the blows, short half-arm jabs, cruel and punishing. Once Jack was beaten to his knees, but he struggled up, striking blindly but so furiously that Brito staggered back.
But for the moment Jack had no breath left to follow up his advantage and Brito none to renew the assault. Face to face they stood, with blood-streaked faces, gaping29 mouths, and sobbing30 chests, each glad of the respite31 but each determined32 that it should not be for long.
For an instant Brito’s eyes wandered about the ground, seeking a weapon; for an instant Jack’s eyes followed the Englishman’s and in that instant he saw Alagwa where she lay crumbled33 against the rampart. A yell of fury burst from his lips and he sprang forward. Brito saw him coming and threw his weight into a blow that would have ended the fight if it had gone home. But it did not go home! Jack dodged34 beneath it and drove his right with deadly force against the other’s thick neck. Then as Brito swung round, giddy from the impact, Jack struck him on the chin and sent him reeling back a dozen feet, clawing at the air, till he stumbled across the body of an Indian and fell upon his back.
“Not yet!” Brito’s outflung hand had closed upon a hatchet36 that had fallen from the dead brave’s hand. Upward he hurled37 it with despairing fury.
Whether directed by chance or by skill the cast went home. The head of the whirling axe38 struck Jack squarely upon his forehead, just at the roots of his hair. He gasped39, wavered, flung up his hands, and sank down.
Something snapped in Alagwa’s brain. The night-mare numbness41 that had held her vanished. Together mind and straining body burst the bonds that had held them. Mad with fury she sprang to her feet and hurled herself at Brito, striking blindly with bare, harmless, open hands. No thought of self was in her mind. Jack was dead; she thought only to avenge42 him.
Brito was scrambling43 to his feet. Even half risen, his great bulk towered above the girl’s slender form. But so sudden and so furious was her assault that he tottered44 backward. But as he reeled he clutched at her left wrist and held it, dragging her with him, striking, struggling, fighting like a trapped wolverene. He reached for the other wrist, but before he could grasp it, the girl set her knee inside of his and tripped him, hurling45 him headlong. But his grip upon her did not relax, and together on the ground the two rolled, desperately locked. Had Brito been less exhausted[193] and the girl less maddened the end would have come instantly; only her fury postponed46 it.
Suddenly her chance came. Beneath her straining body she felt a weapon and caught it up. It was Brito’s pistol. As she raised it Brito snatched for it. His grip fell short and, overbalanced, he left his head unguarded. Before he could recover Alagwa had struck him across the forehead with the heavy barrel and had torn herself free.
Like a cat she sprang to her feet. But Brito was up, too, nearly as quickly; and she had no strength left to renew her assault.
For a moment the Englishman stood, rocking slowly to and fro, striving to clear his eyes of the blood that was trickling47 from the furrow48 the pistol had traced across his forehead. Then he gave a great shout:
“Estelle!” he cried. “Estelle! Damme! It’s Estelle.” He paused, staring. Then he laughed hoarsely49. “Plucky, too!” he cried. “A true Telfair, fit mate for a man.” He flung out his hands. “To me! Little one!” he cried. “To me! I liked you when I saw you first. But now—By God! You’re a Valkyrie, a Boadicea. To think of your daring to fight with me. You! A woman and a hop-o’-my thumb. By God! I love you for it. Come to me.” He stumbled forward.
Alagwa sprang away. As she did so her hand touched the powder-horn that had clung to her belt[194] through all that furious encounter. Her bullet-pouch, too, was in place. Lithely50 she dodged Brito’s rush, and as he blundered past she poured a charge of powder into the mouth of her pistol and rammed51 home the wad.
Brito saw and read her motion. The man’s pluck was good, for he lurched toward her, laughing. “No! No! No! Estelle!” he cried. “Don’t shoot! You’ve lost one kinsman52 already”—he glanced towards Jack’s silent form—“and you can’t afford to lose another. Come! Lady! Cousin! Come to me. I’ll take you to England. I’ll make you queen of them all”—He broke off. Alagwa had forced home the bullet and had primed the pan. Now she raised the pistol.
Brito saw it and changed his note. “D— you, you hussy!” he yelled. “I’ll choke——”
The pistol roared and he reeled back, clutching at his side. Then he crashed down.
For an instant Alagwa stared at him, noting the red stain that was widening on his shirt beneath the heart. Then she let the pistol fall and turned away. Staggeringly she made her way to Jack’s side and sank down beside him. Into his torn hunting shirt she slipped her hand till it lay above his heart.
No faintest throb53 rewarded her. No quiver of lip or eye negatived the red wound upon his brow. Silently her head fell forward. It was all over. Jack was dead. Without a gasp40 hope died.
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收听单词发音
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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merging
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| 合并（分类） | |
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impended
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| v.进行威胁，即将发生( impend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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8
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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18
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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23
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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29
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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30
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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33
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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34
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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37
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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38
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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39
gasped
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| 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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40
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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41
numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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42
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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43
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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44
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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45
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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46
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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47
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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48
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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49
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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50
lithely
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| adv.柔软地，易变地 | |
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51
rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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52
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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53
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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