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TWO:

TWO:About an hour after midnight there came thundering through the quiet of the night the sound of galloping hoofs along the road at the foot of the ravine. Cairness, lying broad awake, was the first to hear it. He sprang up and ran to the opening of the tent. He guessed that it was a courier even before the gallop changed to a trot, and a voice called from the invisible depths below, "Captain Landor?" with a rising intonation of uncertainty.145

TWO:Besides the miscellaneous poets, the dramatic ones numbered Congreve, Vanbrugh, Farquhar, Colley Cibber, Nicholas Rowe��already mentioned��Savage, Lansdowne, Ambrose Philips, and others. In many of the plays of these authors there is great talent, wit, and humour, but mingled with equal grossness. Congreve's dramas are principally "The Old Bachelor," "The Incognita," "The Double Dealer," "The Way of the World," comedies, and "The Mourning Bride," a tragedy. Vanbrugh, the celebrated architect, produced "The Relapse," "The Provoked Wife," "The Confederacy," "The Journey to London," and several other comedies. Farquhar's principal plays are "The Beaux's Stratagem," "Love and a Bottle," and "The Constant Couple." Savage was the author of the tragedy of "Sir Thomas Overbury;" Nicholas Rowe, of five or six tragedies and one comedy, the most popular of which are "The Fair Penitent" and "Jane Shore." Rowe also translated Lucan's "Pharsalia." As for Colley Cibber, he was a mere playwright, and turned out above two dozen comedies, tragedies, and other dramatic pieces. Lord Lansdowne was the author of "The She-gallants," a comedy, and "Heroic Love," a tragedy of some merit; and John Hughes wrote "The Siege of Damascus," a tragedy, which long remained on the stage.Pending her arrival, Landor brought himself to look[Pg 16] upon it as his plain duty and only course to marry her. It would save her, and any man who might otherwise happen to love her, from learning what she was. That she might refuse to look at it in that way, did not much enter into his calculations. It required a strong effort for him to decide it so, but it was his way to pick out the roughest possible path before him, to settle within himself that it was that of duty, and to follow it without fagging or complaint. He dreaded any taint of Apache blood as he dreaded the venom of a rattler. He had seen its manifestations for twenty odd years, had seen the hostile savage and the civilized one, and shrank most from the latter. But he had promised Cabot to do his best by the waif, and the best he could see was to marry her. There was always before him, to urge him on to the sacrifice, the stalwart figure of his boyhood's friend, standing forsaken in the stretch of desert with the buzzards hovering over him in the burning sky. He permitted himself to hope, however, that she was not too obviously a squaw.