The baffled, helpless rage
in Moore's face was sufficient proof of the true power possessed by
Cateras, that his was no idle boast. Under some conditions the change
in captors might have been welcomed--certainly she felt no desire to
remain in the hands of the two who had brought her there, for Sikes,
plainly enough, was a mere drunken brute, and Moore, while of somewhat
finer fibre, lacked the courage and manhood to ever develop into a true
friend.
Yet she would have infinitely preferred such as these--men, at least,
of her own race--to this smirking Mexican, hiding his devilish
instincts behind a pretence at gallantry. She knew him, now,
understood him, felt convinced, indeed, that this was all some cunning
scheme originating within his own brain. He had hastened ahead to
Mendez; told a tale in his own way, rendering the chief's suspicions of
Lacy more acute, and thus gaining permission to assume full charge.
Her only hope was to go herself into the presence of the leader, and
make a plea to him face to face. Moore was already at the horses'
heads, and was turning them about in the trail.
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