Rainbows End | Page 6

my money," he roared.
"Of course I did! Do you think a woman of my beauty would marry
you for anything else? But a fine bargain I made!"
"Vampire!"
"Wife or vampire, I intend to rule this house, and I refuse to be shamed
by a thick-lipped African. Her airs tell her story. She is insolent to me,
but--I sha'n't endure it. She laughs at me. Well, your friends shall laugh
at you."
"Silence!" commanded Esteban.
"Sell her."
"No."

"Sell her, or--"
Without waiting to hear her threat Esteban tossed his arms above his
head and fled from the room. Flinging himself into the saddle, he
spurred down the hill and through the town to the Casino de Espanol,
where he spent the night at cards with the Spanish officials. But he did
not sell Evangelina.
In the days that followed many similar scenes occurred, and as
Esteban's home life grew more unhappy his dissipations increased. He
drank and gambled heavily; he brought his friends to the quinta with
him, and strove to forget domestic unpleasantness in boisterous revelry.
His wife, however, found opportunities enough to weary and exasperate
him with reproaches regarding the slave girl.

II
SPANISH GOLD
The twins were seven years old when Dona Isabel's schemes bore their
first bitter fruit, and the occasion was a particularly uproarious night
when Don Esteban entertained a crowd of his Castilian friends. Little
Rosa was awakened at a late hour by the laughter and shouts of her
father's guests. She was afraid, for there was something strange about
the voices, some quality to them which was foreign to the child's
experience. Creeping into her brother's room, she awoke him, and
together they listened.
Don Mario de Castano was singing a song, the words of which were
lost, but which brought a yell of approval from his companions. The
twins distinguished the voice of Don Pablo Peza, too--Don Pablo,
whose magnificent black beard had so often excited their admiration.
Yes, and there was Col. Mendoza y Linares, doubtless in his splendid
uniform. These gentlemen were well and favorably known to the boy
and girl, yet Rosa began to whimper, and when Esteban tried to
reassure her his own voice was thin and reedy from fright.

In the midst of their agitation they heard some one weeping; there came
a rush of feet down the hallway, and the next instant Evangelina flung
herself into the room. A summer moon flooded the chamber with
radiance and enabled her to see the two small white figures sitting up in
the middle of the bed.
Evangelina fell upon her knees before them. "Little master! Little
mistress!" she sobbed. "You will save me, won't you? We love each
other, eh? See then, what a crime this is! Say that you will save me!"
She was beside herself, and her voice was hoarse and cracked from
grief. She wrung her hands, she rocked herself from side to side, she
kissed the twins' nightgowns, tugging at them convulsively.
The children were frightened, but they managed to quaver: "What has
happened? Who has harmed you?"
"Don Pablo Peza," wept the negress. "Your father has sold me to
him--lost me at cards. Oh, I shall die! Sebastian won't believe it. He is
praying. And Asensio--O God! But what can they do to help me? You
alone can save me. You won't let Don Pablo take me away? It would
kill me."
"Wait!" Esteban scrambled out of bed and stood beside his dusky nurse
and playmate. "Don't cry any more. I'll tell papa that you don't like Don
Pablo."
Rosa followed. "Yes, come along, brother," she cried, shrilly. "We'll
tell Don Pablo to go home and leave our Evangelina."
"My blessed doves! But will they listen to you?" moaned the slave.
"Papa does whatever we ask," they assured her, gravely. "If he should
growl we'll come back and hide you in the big wardrobe where nobody
will ever find you." Then hand in hand, with their long nightgowns
lifted to their knees, they pattered out into the hall and down toward the
living-room, whence came the shouting and the laughter.
Don Mario de Castano, who was facing the door, stopped in the midst

of a ribald song to cry: "God be praised! What's this I see?"
The others looked and then burst into merriment, for across the litter of
cards and dice and empty glasses they saw a dimpled girl and boy, as
like as two peas. They were just out of bed; they were peering through
the smoke, and blinking like two little owls. Their evident
embarrassment amused the guests hugely.
"So! You awaken the household with your songs," some one chided
Don Mario.
"Two cherubs from heaven," another exclaimed.
And a third cried, "A toast to Esteban's beautiful children."
But the