|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 32
[Footnote [A]: It doubtless appears absurd to confine the title of
"Americans" to the few citizens of the United States who emigrated to
Texas, when all who inhabit the continent are equally entitled to the
appellation. Yet the distinction is Mexican; "Los Americanos" being
the name applied to all who are not of Spanish descent.]
The declaration of independence was enthusiastically hailed by the
brave-hearted Texans, as they sprang with one impulse to support the
new-born banner, that floated so majestically over the sunny prairies
of their western home. Mechanic, statesman, plowboy, poet, pressed
forward to the ranks, emulous of priority alone. A small, but intrepid
band, they defied the tyrant who had subverted the liberties of his
country; defied Santa Anna and his fierce legions, and spurned the
iron yoke which the priests of Mexico vainly strove to plant upon
their necks. Liberty, civil and religious, was the watchword, and
desperately they must struggle in the coming strife.
Ma�uel Nevarro had eagerly enlisted in the Mexican ranks, and in a
few weeks after General Cos's arrival, donned his uniform. Thus
accoutered, he presented himself, for the first time since their
disagreement, before Inez, who had but recently returned from San
Jose, doubting not that her admiration of his new dress would extend
to him who filled it. In truth, his was a fine form and handsome face;
yet sordid selfishness, and, in common parlance, "a determination to
have his own way," were indelibly stamped upon his countenance.
Inez was busily preparing the evening meal when he entered; and though
perfectly aware of his presence, gave no indication of it. He
stood aside and watched her movements, as she shaped and turned the
tortillas. Presently she began to sing
"He quits his mule, and mounts his horse,
And through the streets directs his course--
Through the streets of Gacatin,
To the Alhambra spurring in,
Wo is me, Alhama.
"And when the hollow drums of war
Beat the loud alarm afar,
That the Moors of town and plain
Might answer to the martial strain,
Wo is me, Alhama.
As the mournful cadence died away, she turned, and started with
well-feigned surprise on meeting the piercing glance fixed upon her.
"Ah, Ma�uel!" She held out both hands, with a most amicable expression
of countenance. He grasped them, and would have kissed her beautiful
lips, but she slipped adroitly to one side--"No, no! Ma�uel. I'll not
permit that till I am Se�ora Nevarro."
"And when will that be, Se�orita?"
"Not till the war is over."
"But it has not begun yet; and it will be many moons before we whip
these cursed Americanos."
"How many, think you, Ma�uel?"
"I can't tell, Inez; therefore we will not wait till the war is over.
The Padre is ready any time, and why not marry at once?"
"Sacra Dios! I'll do no such thing."
"And why not, Inez?"
"Because they might kill you, Ma�uel, and then what would become of
me?"
"You would be as well off then as now; there would be no difference,
only you would be married. You will mourn, any how, if I am killed."
"How do you know I would?" Her Spanish eyes twinkled as she spoke; but
for fear of going too far, she laid her hand on his shoulder. Ma�uel
turned sharply round.
"You deserve to be shot, Ma�uel, for joining in a miff. Why didn't you
tell me you were going to be a soldier?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|