The supper was wholly satisfactory. It was enjoyed by every person, the host having spread himself on this occasion. While the shades of evening were gathering at the foot of the mountain they sat over their coffee in the cool dining room of the hotel and chatted.
Now, for a wonder, the Mexican was strangely silent. On his face there lay a soft shadow and his eyes seemed full of dreamy, far-away sadness. Even when Frank told a humorous story that set all the others in a shout of laughter, Del Norte remained absorbed and silent, not even smiling slightly.
Ere the party rose from the table the Mexican got up, excused himself, and strolled out. He was not on the broad veranda when the others left the dining room and took their seats outside.
Some of the male members of the party smoked, Browning declining a cigar and asking leave to light his pipe, which was freely granted, as he had taken a seat to the leeward of the others.
Creeping along with surprising closeness to the shore, they saw below them one of the huge white steamers which ply between Boston and Bangor. At that distance, as it rounded the point and swung into the little harbor, it looked like a toy boat. The sound of its hoarse whistle came up to their ears, mellowed and made musical by the distance.
Twilight was on the harbor, and the steamer was glowing with lights when it crept out once more and continued on its course. Already at a bound scores of electric lights had gleamed forth down at the foot of the mountain. The town was illumined.
“Se?or del Norte should be here,” said Crossgrove. “I wonder where he is.”
The stars came out one by one, growing clearer and plainer as the last remnant of day was smothered by the advancing night.
“Yes, Se?or del Norte should be here,” said the captain’s daughter. “Look yonder to the east. See that glow of light. The moon will rise soon.”
There was little talk, and that in low tones, as the huge, round moon came pushing up in the east and flooded the bay with its light. It was so cool that the ladies gladly accepted the wraps brought them by some of the men. Still, it was not cold enough to be disagreeable. The air was clear and winelike. But the beauty of the night took hold of them one and all.
For some time Inza had been strangely silent and moody. In vain Frank had tried to arouse her. She protested that nothing was the matter, yet finally she arose and left the veranda without asking him to join her. He watched her with a restless feeling, and finally called after her, asking where she was going.
“Come on and you will find out,” she answered, with a short laugh. “See if you can catch me.”
The others watched the pursuit with languid interest. They saw Inza flit from bush to bush, from rock to rock, with Merry laughingly pursuing. Before long both had vanished, but still, for a few minutes, their voices were to be heard.
Inza was successful in avoiding Frank for some time. Once he thought he had her safely overtaken, only to find she was not crouching in a shadow of a bush where he fancied she must be. At last he paused in perplexity, realizing he had lost all trace of her.
“Inza!” he called. “Where are you?”
All around him were stunted cedars, and rocks, and shadows.
A sudden fear came upon him. What if something had happened to her? Once more he called her name.
Out of the shadows something came, moving swiftly, and a moment later a bareheaded, panting man dashed up and seized Frank’s arm.
“Merciful heavens, se?or!” cried the familiar voice of Del Norte, “who was the lady? I caught barely a glimpse of her! It’s the most frightful thing! We must hasten to find her, for she may be yet alive.”
“What’s that?” hastily demanded Merry, grasping the Mexican in turn. “What are you talking about, Del Norte?”
“Why did she do it?” moaned the Mexican, releasing his hold on Frank to wring his hands. “She seemed distracted. She seemed crazy. I saw her flit along, but didn’t dream she meant to leap from the precipice.”
With sudden fear, Merry gave the panting man a shake.
“What are you talking about, you crazy imbecile?” he demanded. “It was Inza Burrage you saw!”
“Merciful saints!” moaned the Mexican, seeming ready to collapse with horror. “The beautiful Se?orita Inza? And I saw her plunge over the precipice to her death! A moment before I was looking from the brink myself into the black treetops down below. The shadows are deep and dark down there.”
“Take me to the spot!” cried Frank.
“Hasten, then!” palpitated the Mexican. “I will show you where it happened. Oh, the beautiful se?orita! She has gone to her death! Not even a cry did she utter! What a frightful thing, Se?or Merriwell!”
Frank followed the Mexican, who quickly led him to the verge of a high cliff, over which he declared the girl had rushed without pause and without sound of any sort.
Frank bent forward and peered over. Beneath him the bluff dropped almost straight down. Far below in the shadows he could see the tops of many trees growing thickly.
A sudden feeling of doubt and uncertainty swept over him. It seemed utterly preposterous that Inza in gay spirits should rush blindly over that precipice. Had she done such a thing by accident or miscalculation, surely she would have uttered a cry as she fell. Like a flash he whirled on Del Norte, and he was barely in time to save his own life, for he discovered the Mexican in the act of thrusting him over the brink of the precipice.
Quick as thought, Merry clutched Del Norte’s wrists and clung to them.
“You dog!” he said, in a low tone, as they both tottered on the v............