The Mountains of Spring (15 page)

‘
You are kind,
senorita
,
’
he said. And then, without another word, he bowed and walked away.

Fortunately, Castaneta was not too badly upset to be able to race. Some ten or fifteen minutes after she had been quietened down by Diego Rivel she
fina
lly
permitted herself to be mounted, and with two or three minutes to spare she was ridden down to the start.

Caroline was by this time seated in the stands with Dick Weldon, and was doing her best to display a genuine interest in what was going on around her. Ever since the incident in the parade-ring Dick had been watching her with a good deal of solicitous anxiety, for it was quite obvious that she had been badly upset, and there was little doubt that he imagined Castaneta
’
s unprecedented behaviour to have been exclusively responsible. She had had a serious fright, and had reacted very naturally.

What she couldn
’
t explain to him was something she had only just realized herself
...
namely, that it wasn
’
t the danger she herself had been in—if she had been in any danger—but the risk that had been taken by Diego Rivel, the appalling risk that made her shiver whenever she thought about it
...
That was the thing that had left her feeling as if she had just been through a shattering ordeal. She couldn
’
t even explain it to herself, and if she had been able to do so it wasn
’
t a thing she could discuss with Dick. She was aware of the fact that when she had spoken to the Mexican he had virtually snubbed her, and this too had upset her, for she couldn
’
t account for it. She felt confused and disturbed, and found it difficult to concentrate at all on the little knot of horses assembling at one end of the track for the start of the next race.

A pair of binoculars, however, was pressed into her hand, and she was able without much difficulty to identify Castaneta. Then, almost before she realized it, the race had started, and all around them a huge, vague murmur of excitement was rising from the crowd. She couldn
’
t see Castaneta now; the golden mare was lost to view, hidden somewhere in a cluster of other horses. Dust rose around them, and all at once there was nothing at all to see but outstretched necks and crouching jockeys. One horse was pulling ahead, but it wasn
’
t Castaneta, it was a big, powerful black. Its supporters began to grow enthusiastic, and their roars of encouragement filled the stands and echoed around the track. A thrill of disappointment ran through Caroline. She knew now that she had really wanted Castaneta to win. Castaneta had once belonged to Diego Rivel!

The black horse was leading by about two lengths,
and its adherents in the stands were becoming ecstatic. Beside her, Dick Weldon was watching the race very calmly, and as the tension mounted she began to wish that he would lower his binoculars and say something. But he said nothing, and now there was only about a furlong to go. Her own binoculars when she raised them again were badly focused, and it took her a few seconds to adjust them.

And then, as her vision cleared, she saw that something had changed. The big black horse was no longer quite alone in galloping free of the rest of the field. Another foam-flecked shape had detached itself from the main body of horses, and it seemed to Caroline that it was moving with the speed of an arrow. The afternoon sunlight glinted on its golden neck, and as the distance between it and the leader narrowed she caught her breath on a little gasp of pure excitement. The gap between the two horses grew less and less, and then, suddenly, there was no gap. The winning-post loomed close to them, and as they were almost on top of it Castaneta drew clear. Caroline watched her as she passed the post like a streak of sunlight, and she heard the roar of the crowds swell into thunderous delight. Castaneta, apparently, had even more supporters than the black horse.

‘
Well, well! I said you
’
d bring me luck.
’

The matter-of-fact voice of Dick Weldon recalled her to herself, and she realized that in the excitement of the moment she had risen to her feet. She sat down again, feeling self-conscious.

‘
That was wonderful!
’
she said.

He looked at her.
‘
You
’
re fond of that word,
’
he remarked.

‘
Fond of that word?
’

‘
Oh, never mind!
’
he laughed, and stood up himself, drawing her back on to her feet.
‘
Are you coming with me to greet the winner?
’

They entered the unsaddling enclosure at more or less the same time as Castaneta, and Caroline was just about to go forward with Dick to congratulate the jockey and bestow a cautious caress on the beautiful animal who had just provided her new owner with such ample proof of her worth when she caught sight of another figure moving in the same direction, and instinctively she hung back.

Diego Rivel was also coming to pay his tribute to the winner.

He saw them, hesitated a moment, and then walked straight towards them.

‘
You are pleased,
senor
?
’
he enquired, after bowing briefly to Caroline.

‘
Oh, very!
’
Dick Weldon assured
him
. It struck Caroline that he didn
’
t sound quite as pleased as he might have done in the circumstances, but it was only a passing impression, and she didn
’
t dwell on it.

‘
She is an excellent animal,
’
Diego was saying.
‘
It took speed and power to pass Stella Negra. I am sorry, a little, that I sold her to you. But that is your good fortune.
’

They were standing beside Castaneta now, and as he turned to speak to her jockey, the Mexican placed a hand on her glossy neck.

‘
Would you like her back?
’
It was an abrupt question—especially from Dick Weldon. Caro
lin
a, at least, was startled.

Senor Rivel
’
s hand fell from the horse
’
s neck, and for several seconds his eyes were focused penetratingly on the other man
’
s face. Then he said
smoothly:

‘
You wish to sell her back to me?
’

‘
Yes, I
’
m willing to sell.
’

Caroline, startled out of her own embarrassment, stared at the American in astonishment, and saw that his mouth had twisted into an odd kind of smile.

‘
You will expect to make a profit, no doubt?
’
There was an almost sneering note in Diego
’
s voice.

‘
That doesn
’
t bother me too much. I
’
ll take what I gave for her.
’

‘
A sudden decision,
senor.
And a strange one, surely, in the circumstances?
’

‘
I guess I just shouldn
’
t have had her in the first place. It didn
’
t strike me until this afternoon, but getting her back to the States with me would present quite a problem. So, if you
’
re sorry you parted with her
...
’
He shrugged slightly.

Diego turned his head, and for a moment his gaze rested, half absently it seemed to her, on Caroline.

‘
I understand,
’
he said.
‘
I understand ve
r
y well,
senor.
I will make out to you a cheque, and the beast will become mine again.
’

‘
Well, that
’
s fine,
’
said Dick Weldon.

The Mexican bowed and turned aside, apparently to have a few words with Castaneta
’
s jockey. But at that precise moment something or somebody in the crowd of bystanders caught his attention, and he quite visibly stiffened. Caroline automatically followed the direction of his eyes
...
and what she saw very nearly made her jump with shock and apprehension.

For moving through the colourful crowd, not twenty-five yards away from them, was Peter. He wasn
’
t moving very rapidly, and with the aid of a
second glance it was easy enough to see why. He was pushing a wheelchair in front of him
...
and in the wheelchair, looking startlingly pretty and youthful in a white dress, and with her dark hair
hanging
loose about her shoulders, was Isabel Dominguez.

Caroline was certain that beneath his breath Diego swore violently in Spanish, and she felt all the colour drain away from her own cheeks as, without a word of explanation to herself or Dick Weldon, he strode straight off towards the pair he had recognized. The American, who had also seen what was happening, whistled softly.

‘
Your brother
’
s for it,
’
he observed.
‘
I rather gather Senorita Dominguez isn
’
t expected to accept in
v
itations that Rivel hasn
’
t vetted.
’

Caroline bit her lip, but she said nothing, for she was watching Diego, who had just caught up with her brother and Isabel. The two men were standing close together, and she could tell that Diego was expressing himself as incisively as was possible without providing the interested passers-by with too much entertainment. Peter looked as if he were
making
a gallant effort, at least, to stand his ground with resolution, and Isabel, surprisingly, looked as
far
as she could see as if she might be preparing to fly into a rage—a rage of positively
prima donna-ish
proportions, at that. It was quite impossible to hear what was being said, but Peter seemed first to flush and then to turn rather white, and after a minute or two, having glanced at Caroline
’
s set face, Dick Weldon suggested that they should go over and join the other three.

‘
We might as well find out what
’
s actually going
on,
’
he remarked, placing a hand beneath her elbow.
‘
Though I daresay your brother
’
s more than a match for our friend Diego.
’

In actual fact it was painfully obvious that Peter was anything but a match for Diego. By the time Caroline drew near he had reached the stage of being reduced to stubborn silence—and his employer was white to the lips with what was apparently a kind of partially controlled fury. Isabel
’
s small brown hands were tightly clenched upon the arms of her wheelchair, and as she looked up at the Englishman, who was still standing beside her, there was a strong hint of colour in her thin cheeks.

‘
We will go now, Peter?
’
she was saying, and it struck Caroline that the Mexican girl was positively appealing to her brother to stand his ground, and to take her home—or at least somewhere out of sight of Diego Rivel—without any further hesitation or delay. That Peter
was
hesitating—just a little—was obvious; his character had never been phenomenally strong, and the casting of such a deliberate and irrevocable insult in the face of his employer was undoubtedly something that was going to require courage.

‘
Isabel, in a few minutes I will take you home.
’
It was the voice of Diego. After a moment he added:
‘
We will discuss this—this interlude later.
’

‘
Senor,
I brought Miss Dominguez here, and unless she would prefer me not to do so I will take her home.
’

Peter had made up his mind.

Isabel directed another appealing glance at her companion.
‘
Please, why do we wait so long?
’
she demanded.
‘
I wish very much that you will take
me home, Peter. I have said so.
’
She swallowed rather hard, and Caroline could see that she was biting viciously on a suspiciously tremulous lower lip, but her eyes when she looked at Diego were alight with furious resentment, and Caroline was conscious of feeling a little astonished.

‘
Very well, Isabel. I have no control over you.
’
Diego
’
s voice was quiet, and incredibly cold. He turned to the Englishman.
‘
But as for you,
senor
...
over you I have some control. Or I have had,
’
with icy significance.
‘
You will not, I imagine, expect to remain in my employment.
’

There was a brief silence, and then Peter
’
s pent-up Anglo-Saxon wrath burst its bounds at last. It was obviously a bad moment for him, but it was equally obvious that he intended to derive what satisfaction he could from the situation by allowing himself to give voice to a few home-truths.

‘
I—I wouldn
’
t stay in your employment if it were the last job in Mexico!
’
he stated bluntly.
‘
You
’
ve treated Isabel like a—
l
ike a slave ... as if she were something that had belonged to you from birth. You haven
’
t allowed her to have a mind of her own—it
’
s your attitude that drove her into that wheelchair, and it
’
s kept her there. She might be a six-year-old, the way you treat her, and she
’
s had enough. She
’
s going to break away from you, and she
’
ll have all the help I can give her!
’

‘
Indeed!
’
the Mexican
’
s eyes narrowed.
‘
You would be well advised to remember, I think, that you are an alien in this country.
’

All at once something in the lean dark face terrified Caroline, and without thinking she stepped forward quickly and intervened.

‘
I don
’
t think Peter means what he says,
senor.
I
’
m sure he doesn
’
t! He
’
s—he
’
s a bit worked up—
’

‘
Is he?
’
Diego swung round to face her, and his eyes seemed to grow colder than ever.
‘
You are going to plead for him, are you? The charming little sister, attempting to avert the anger of the tyrant!
’

‘
No,
’
said Caroline shortly, sudden sparks in her own blue eyes.
‘
No, I
’
m not going to do anything of the kind.
’

‘
I am glad, because for one thing I am sure your brother does not wish you to plead for him.
’

‘
Come along, Caro,
’
said Peter, looking past him.
‘
Come with us—oh, I forgot, you
’
re with Dick Weldon, aren
’
t you?
’
He acknowledged the American
’
s unobtrusive presence with a brief nod.
‘
He
’
ll look after you. I
’
ll phone you some time—to-night, probably. We
’
d better be going, Isabel.
’
With an almost proprietorial air, he turned the invalid chair about, and within thirty seconds they were lost to view amid a crush of hurrying racegoers.