At the hotel were I stayed there were a
number of Texans coming and going, and I was delighted with their bold,
frank ways, and with the air of conquest and freedom and adventure
that clung to them. One day I passed you upon Canal Street. You looked
so miserable, and were speaking to the man with whom you were in
conversation so sternly, that I could not make up my mind to address
you. I walked a block and returned. You were just saying, "If I did
right, I would send you to the Penitentiary, sir;" and I had a sudden
fear of you, and, returning to the hotel, I packed my valise and took
the next steamer for Galveston.'
"I answered, 'I remember the morning, Antony; the man had stolen from
me a large sum of money. I was angry with him, and I had a right to
be angry.'
"Antony frowned, and for some minutes did not resume his story. He
looked so faint, also, that I pushed a little wine and water toward
him, and he wet his lips, and went on:
"'Yes, you had a perfect right; but your manner checked me. I did not
know either how matters stood between you and my sister; so, instead
of speaking to you, I went to Texas. I found Houston--I mean the little
town of that name--in a state of the greatest excitement. The tradesmen
were working night and day, shoeing horses, or mending rifles and
pistols; and the saddlers' shops were besieged for leathern pouches
and saddlery of all kinds.
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