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The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood

Chapter 7 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

Word Count: 2347    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

chief thoroughfare of the town. It was a narrow, unpretending street, very foreign in aspect; the houses tall and overhangin

w was at the drapers, where they sold British calicoes and piece

iver seated on the shafts, cut through the throng. Detachments of troops, too, marched by: recruits returning from drill upon the North Front, armed parties, guards coming off duty, and others going on fatigue-all these cleared the street before them. On the pavement the crowd was as diverse as might be expected, from the mixed population. Stately Moors rubbed elbows with stalw

ary post and stronghold. Mrs. Wilders seemed also to enjoy the busy, animated scene: it was all so new to her, so different from anything she had expected, as she w

braltar, then?" said young Mr

hat is why I am so interes

t Street, to know the road without guidance, and once or twice a passer-by paused to look at her. W

hose at Gibraltar who knew her,

t, turned out to do honour to the general, a man pushed forward from a little group t

usted?" (Gracious Heaven

ing fellow, dressed in a suit of coarse brown cloth, short jacket, knee-breeches, and leather gaiters-the dress, in fact, of a we

herself sufficiently to r

but it does not matter in the le

aid nothing more. But Mrs. Wilders, as they passed on, and for the rest of their walk to the Convent, as the Governor's re

llowing her. W

spection of troops upon the North Front, Mrs. Wilders declined to accept the seat in the carriage offered her. She preferred, she said

rather go alone. I sha

n before the town major as a suspicious character, loitering too near

hink," she replied, quietly. "I am

n, with her firm-set l

and. "It's best to give in to her. That's what I've

arade, Mrs. Wilders, still persisting in h

diers I shall go off on my own devices. If I g

s Mrs. Wilde

orderly, McKay. "I don't want you; you ma

ort myself t

ut your business double-quick. But you can keep

ers had already disappeared down Convent Lane, and was just turning

were; nor did she pause to admire the architectural beauties of the Garrison Library or other severely plain masterpieces of our military en

was essentially a native quarter; Spanish was the only language heard from the children who swarmed about the doorways, or their slatternly mothers quarreling o

storic name of "Red Hot Shot Ramp," and paused opposite a gateway leading into a dirty courtyard. The place wa

fully, Mrs. Wilders en

e ostler, who stared with open-mouthed surprise at th

, se?ora, he is with his horses inside," rep

hat I will cross the threshold of your piggery?" and she waited

legas, the man in the brown suit, who had spo

once, in a half-coaxin

l thrash you with your own whip. How da

ion had descended from above, sent, perhaps, by the Holy Virgin

n, I know, but let that pass. Answer

worshipped you-your shadow-the ground on which yo

r! I never st

who came between us, and whom you preferred. What did y

d these years-and with him all my old life. That is what b

a tone of mingled fear and passion. It was evident this s

ral. I have great influence, much power, and can do what I please with such scum as you. I have been with my husband just now to the Convent,

at her with

ttle purse and handed him a ten-pound note-"here is an earnest of what I will give you. Interest? Do you want

our bidding, and ask nothing

singularly self-den

ur, then. I am tired of this wandering life. Here to-day in Cadiz; Ronda, Malaga, to-morrow

ders, contemptuously. "In you

u, se?ora. But the wound

hand with a me

e," Benito confessed. "I have known her from childhood. Her friends ap

is it to

ed dollars-I could purchase

the money at o

return never to t

y I warn you if you ever o

y merit your

wishes; see that they are fulfilled. You shall

her dress, turned on her hee

the courtyard. He had seen nothing of what passed inside, and as the interview with Benito occupied some time he had grown uneasy.

harply, and jumping with all a woman's quickness a

am not a spy," said the young

rds with me. Te

t happen to you. He thought you might

aid these last words, watching whethe

face betra

een at my heels? How

madam, to this door. I have seen

st, an old woman, lives here. I knew her years ago. Psha! why should I condescend to explain? Look h

imself up stiffly, as he said, with anot

I thought all soldiers liked drink. Wel

dam; I am paid by the

how well you executed his commands. But there!-I have had enough of this; I wish to return

There Mrs. Wilders hailed a native boat, and, without condescending to notice the ord

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