Inez | Page 9

as untiring as myself." He reached his door, and entered.
CHAPTER VI.
"And ruder words will soon rush in To spread the breach that words
begin; And eyes forget the gentle ray They wore in courtship's smiling
day; And voices lose the tone that shed A tenderness round all they
said."
MOORE.
Inez de Garcia was an only child, and in San Antonio considered quite
an heiress. Her wealth consisted in broad lands, large flocks, and
numerous herds, and these valuable possessions, combined with her
beautiful face, rendered her the object of considerable attention. Inez
was endowed with quick perceptions, and a most indomitable will,
which she never surrendered, except to accomplish some latent design;
and none who looked into her beautiful eyes could suppose that beauty
predominated over intellect. She was subtile, and consciousness of her
powers was seen in the haughty glance and contemptuous smile. Her
hand had been promised from infancy to her orphan cousin, Mañuel
Nevarro, whose possessions were nearly as extensive as her own. Inez
looked with indifference on her handsome cousin, but never objected
till within a few weeks of her seventeenth birthday (the period
appointed for her marriage), when she urged her father to break the
engagement. This he positively refused to do, but promising, at Father
Mazzolin's suggestion, that she should have a few more months of
freedom, she apparently acquiesced. Among the peculiar customs of
Mexicans, was a singular method of celebrating St. ----'s day. Instead of
repairing to their church and engaging in some rational service, they

mounted their half wild ponies, and rode furiously up and down the
streets till their jaded steeds refused to stir another step, when they were
graciously allowed to finish the day on the common. The celebration of
the festival was not confined to the masculine portion of the
community; silver-haired Señoras mingled in the cavalcade and many a
bright-eyed Señorita looked forward to St. ----'s day with feelings
nearly akin to those with which a New York belle regards the most
fashionable ball of the season.
On the evening preceding the day of that canonized lady, Mañuel
entered the room where Inez sat, her needle work on the floor at some
distance, as though flung impatiently from her, her head resting on one
hand, while the other held a gentleman's glove. Light as was his step,
she detected it and thrusting the glove into her bosom, turned her fine
face full upon him.
"What in the name of wonder brings you here this time of day, Mañuel?
I thought every one but myself was taking a siesta this warm evening."
"I have been trying a new horse, Inez, and came to know at what hour
you would ride to-morrow." He stood fanning himself with his broad
sombrero as he spoke.
"Excuse me, Señor, I do not intend to ride at all."
"You never refused before, Inez; what is the meaning of this?" and his
Spanish brow darkened ominously.
"That I do not feel inclined to do so, is sufficient reason."
"And why don't you choose to ride, pray? You have done it all your
life."
"I'll be cross-questioned by no one!" replied Inez, springing to her feet,
with flashing eyes, and passionately clinching her small, jeweled hand.
Mañuel was of a fiery temperament, and one of the many who never
pause to weigh the effect of their words or actions. Seizing her arm in

no gentle manner, he angrily exclaimed,
"A few more weeks, and I'll see whether you indulge every whim, and
play the queen so royally!"
Inez disengaged her arm, every feature quivering with scorn.
"To whom do you speak, Señor Nevarro? You have certainly mistaken
me for one of the miserable peons over whom you claim jurisdiction.
Allow me to undeceive you! I am Inez de Garcia, to whom you shall
never dictate, for I solemnly declare, that from this day the link which
has bound us from childhood is at an end. Mine be the hand to sever it.
From this hour we meet only as cousins! Go seek a more congenial
bride!"
"Hold, Inez! are you mad?"
"No, Mañuel, but candid; for eight years I have known that I was
destined to be your wife, but I never loved you, Mañuel. I do not, and
never can, otherwise than as a cousin."
In a tone of ill-suppressed range, Nevarro retorted:
"My uncle's authority shall compel you to fulfil the engagement! You
shall not thus escape me!"
"As you please, Señor. Yet let me tell you, compulsion will not answer.
The combined efforts of San Antonio will not avail--they may crush,
but cannot conquer me." She bowed low, and left the room.
Every feature inflamed with wrath, Nevarro snatched his hat, and
hurried down the street. He had not proceeded far,