"
Little does Valois think that the guns of Palo Alto and Resaca
de la Palma will soon usher in the Mexican war. The "pathfinders"
are cut off from home news. He will join the American fleet, soon
expected.
He will land at Acapulco, and ride over to the city of Mexico. From
Vera Cruz he can reach New Orleans and the old Valois plantation,
"Belle Etoile." The magnolias' fragrance call him back to-night.
Another rustle of the bushes. Clinging to his rifle, he peers into
the gloom. How long these waiting hours! The gleaming stars have
dipped into the far Pacific. The weird hours of the night watch
are ending. Ha! Surely that was a crouching form in the arroyo.
Shall he fire? No. Another deception of night. How often the trees
have seemed to move toward him! Dark beings fancifully seemed to
creep upon him. Nameless terrors always haunt these night hours.
To be laughed at on rousing the camp? Never! But his inner nature
tingles now with the mysterious thrill of danger. Eagerly he scans
his post. The bleak blasts have benumbed his senses.
Far away to the graceful groves and Gallic beauties of Belle
Etoile his truant thoughts will fly once more. He wonders why he
threw up his law studies under his uncle, Judge Valois, to rove in
this wilderness.
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