"I invent nothing, Excellency. Fortune has this very day granted me the opportunity of catching a secret it is most important for you to know—that is all."
"Well, tell me what this mighty secret is."
"It relates to your private affairs, Excellency."
"My affairs!" the captain repeated, bursting into a laugh; "Hang it all! Have I any?"
"If the secret does not relate directly to you, it interests in a most eminent degree one of your nearest relatives?"
"Ah! who is he?"
"The Marquis de Moguer."
The captain became serious; he frowned with a menacing expression, which made Kidd tremble in spite of his well-bred effrontery.
"Speak, and be brief," he said to him.
"Nothing will suit me better."
The captain took several ounces from the table drawer, which he threw to the bandit, who caught them in their flight, and stowed them away with a grin of satisfaction in his huge pockets.
"You will not regret your money, Excellency," he said.
"I hope not; and now go on, scoundrel, as you are paid."
Kidd, without further pressing, related in its fullest details all that had occurred between himself and the bailiff on the road. The captain listened with the most earnest attention.
"Is that all?" he asked, when the other stopped.
"Yes, Excellency."
"Good; now be off. You will continue to watch this man, and report to me all he does."
And he dismissed him with a wave of the hand. The adventurer bowed, and went away. When alone, the captain reflected for a few minutes, and then wrote a letter, sealed it, and summoned his orderly, who at once made his appearance.
"Isidro," the captain said to him, "at all risks this letter must be in the hands of the Marquis de Moguer within six hours at the most. You understand me? —at all risks?"
"It shall be done, captain."
"Take this for yourself,"—and he handed him some gold coins,—"and this pass, which will enable you to go in and out. You must be off at once."
Without replying, the soldier withdrew, after concealing the letter in the breast of his uniform.
"And now," the captain muttered to himself; "let them come on."
After leaving the captain's study, Kidd halted in the anteroom, not because he had any plan formed, but through that instinct which urges villains of his species not to leave a good place till compelled. He had heard the captain summon his asistente. The latter, after a few moments' absence, returned to the anteroom with a look of importance which at once caused the adventurer to reflect, and suggested to him the idea of knowing what the conversation was the soldier had held with his chief. Isidro, the captain's asistente, was an Opatas Indian, of tried bravery and fidelity. Unluckily, though he did his duty in the battlefield, his intellect was rather restricted, and, like all Indians, he had a propensity for strong liquors, which had several times brought him to great grief. Kidd was familiar with the soldier, and knew his weakness; hence his plan was formed in a moment.
"Since you remain here," he said to him, "I shall be off: when I came to speak to the captain, I left a nearly full bottle of mezcal at the tocanda of Master Cospeto, and on my word I feel inclined to go and finish it. I will not invite you to accompany me, for your duty keeps you here; otherwise you may be assured that I should be delighted to empty it with you."
"My duty does not keep me here," the Indian answered; "on the contrary, I have a long ride to make this very night."
"A long ride!" the adventurer exclaimed; "¡Caray! It is the same case with me, and as I know no better preservative against the night cold than mezcal, that is why I meant to empty the bottle before mounting. If your inclinations lie the same way, it is at your service."
We will allow that the asistente hesitated.
"Have you also a ride to take?" he asked.
"Yes, and I suspect that yours is as long as mine: well, I am going a long distance; what direction do you follow?"
"The captain sends me to Arispe," the bandit answered, boldly.
"Why, how singular that is! We shall follow the same road."
"That is indeed strange. Well, is it settled?—Will you drink the stirrup-cup with me?"
"Upon due reflection, I see no harm in it."
"Let us make haste, then," the brigand continued, for he feared lest the captain might catch him with his asistente; "we have no time to lose."
For reasons best known to himself, the adventurer left the Indian at the house door, bidding him bring his horse to Cospeto's rancho, where he would join him in a few minutes, and they would set out on their journey together. Kidd merely wanted to warn the mesonero, with whom he had lodged the bailiff, not to let him go away on any excuse—"Watch him closely, and at the slightest suspicious movement go and inform Captain Don Marcos Niza"—who, for reasons connected with the public safety, did not wish to let these strangers out of sight. The mesonero promised to carry out his instructions faithfully; and, re-assured on this point, the adventurer fetched his horse from the corral, and went to join the Opatas at Señor Cospeto's rancho, as had been agreed on. On reaching the inn by one street, to his great satisfaction he saw the orderly arriving by another, mounted, and ready to start. The two friends entered the rookery to which we have already conducted the reader.
The adventurer honourably kept his word: not only did he order a bottle of mezcal, but at the same time one of excellent Catalonian refino. The Indian's prudence was entirely routed by such generosity; the more so because he had no reason to distrust the bandit, with whom he had already made several excursions, and regarded him as an excellent comrade. Kidd, in order to avoid any doubts on the part of his comrade, was careful not to ask him any questions; he merely poured him out glass after glass, and when the bottles were empty, the Indian had drunk the greater part of their contents, as Kidd desired to retain his coolness. When they had finished, the bandit rose, paid the score, and called for another bottle of refino.
"This is for the road," he said.
"An excellent idea," remarked the asistente, whose eyes flashed like carbuncles, and who was beginning to have a very vague notion of the state of affairs. They left the rancho, and mounted their horses. Kidd was rather anxious as to how he should get out of the rancho, as he had no pass of any sort; for if it were difficult to get into the Real de Minas, it was quite as much to get out of it. Luckily, for the adventurer, Isidro's pass was in perfect order, and when he showed it at the gate, where he was perfectly well known to all the soldiers on duty, he said, pointing to Kidd, "This caballero goes with me." The soldiers, aware that Isidro was the confidential man of the captain, did not offer the slightest difficulty, but allowed them to pass, and wished them a lucky journey. When the adventurer found himself in the open country he drew a deep breath of relief, as he gave his too confiding comrade a sarcastic glance.
"Now," he said, "we must take the shortest road, in order to arrive sooner."
"What, are there two roads?" Isidro asked.
"There are ten," Kidd replied coolly; "but the shortest runs almost in a right line, and passes close to the Hacienda del Toro."
"Let us take that, then."
"Why that more than another?"
"Because I am going to the hacienda."
"Ah," the adventurer said, pleasantly, "let us take a drink, and start." Uncorking the bottle, he took a pull, and then handed it to his companion, who imitated him, with an evident expression of pleasure.
"You say, then," Kidd resumed, as he smacked his lips, "That you are going to the Hacienda del Toro?"
"Yes, I am."
"It is a good house, and most hospitable."
"Do you know it?"
"¡Caray! I should think so. The majordomo is my intimate friend. What happy days I have spent with that excellent Señor Paredes!"
"Since it is your road, why not call there with me as you are certain of a kind reception?"
"I do not say I will not; I suppose you are going to ask the Marquis for some men, as soldiers are scarce at the pueblo?"
"I do not think that is the case. Don Hernando has already authorized the captain to enlist his miners, and the peons left him he will need to defend the hacienda in the event of an attack."
"That is true; besides, it is no business of mine. Let every man have his own secrets."
"Oh, I do not think there is any great secret in the matter: the captain is a near relation of the Marquis; they often write to each other, and the letter I am ordered to deliver will only refer, I expect, to family matters and private interests."
"That is probable; the more so, because it is said that the Marquis's affairs are in a very bad state at present."
"So it is said; but I have heard that they are about to be settled."
"¡Caray! I wish it with all my heart, for it is a pity to see one of the oldest families of the province reduced. Suppose we drink the health of the Marquis?"
"With pleasure."
The bottle was hugged for the second time by the two companions. A man may be an Opatas Indian, that is to say, of herculean stature, with a breast arched like a tortoiseshell; but he cannot swallow with impunity such a prodigious quantity of alcohol as Isidro had absorbed without beginning to feel intoxicated. The asistente, strong though he was, tottered on his horse: his eyes began to close, and his tongue to grow thick. But, excited as he was by liquor, the more difficulty he experienced in speaking the more he wanted to do so. The adventurer eagerly followed the progress of his comrade's intoxication, while careful not to let him see that he was aware of his condition.
"Yes, yes," the Indian continued, "the affairs of the Marquis might easily be arranged sooner than is supposed, comrade."
"With his name it cannot be difficult for him to procure money."
"Nonsense! That is not the point, and I know what I know."
"Exactly, Señor Isidro; and as what you know may be a secret, I will not urge you to tell it me."
"Did I say that it was a secret?" the Indian objected.
"No, but I suppose so."
"You are wrong to suppose so; and, besides, you are my friend, are you not?"
"I believe so," the adventurer answered, modestly.
"Well, if you are my friend, I have nothing to conceal from you."
"That is true; still, if you consider it your duty to hold your tongue—"
"Hold my tongue! Why so? Have you any pretence to silence me?"
"I? Heaven forbid, and the proof is, here's your health."
The Indian began laughing.
"That is what is called an unanswerable argument," he said, as he placed the bottle to his lips and threw back his head, as if contemplating the stars.
He remained in this position till all the remaining liquor had passed down his throat.
"Ah!" he said, with an accent of regret, "It was good."
"What do you mean?" Kidd exclaimed, with pretended surprise; "Is there none left?"
"I do not think so," the Indian remarked, with a drunkard's gravity; "it is a pity that these bottles are so small."
And with that he threw it into the road.
"I agree with you that the rancheros are robbers."
"Yes," said the asistente, with a hiccough, "robbers; but soon—we shall drink as much as we like."
"Eh, eh, that will not be unpleasant; but where will it be?"
"Where? Why, at the Hacienda del Toro."
"Yes, they never refuse a draught of mezcal to an honest man in that house."
"Nonsense, a draught! You are jesting, comrade; whole bottles would be nearer the truth. Besides, do you fancy the Marquis will look into matters so closely at his daughter's marriage."
"What?"
"Where on earth do you come from, that you are ignorant of that? Nothing else is spoken of in the country."
"It is the first I have heard of it."
"Well, all the better; I will tell you. Doña Marianna, a pretty girl, caray, is going to marry a senator, no one less."
The adventurer suddenly pricked up his ears.
"A senator?" he repeated.
"This seems to surprise you. Why should not a pretty girl marry a senator? I consider you a curious comrade to doubt my word."
"I do not doubt it."
"Yes, you do; ugly brute that you are."
The intoxication of the Opatas was at its height. Excited even more by the horse's gallop and the adventurer's artfully managed contradiction, Isidro felt passion mount to his head. The intoxication of Indians is horrible: they become raving madmen; their heated brain gives birth to the strangest hallucinations, and under the influence of spirits they are capable of the greatest crimes. The bandit was aware of all these peculiarities, by which he hoped to profit; he had drawn from the Indian all that he wanted to learn from him; he had squeezed him like a lemon, and now only wanted to throw away the peel. We need hardly say that at this hour of the night the road the two travellers were following was completely deserted, and that Kidd did not fear any overlookers of what he intended doing. They were riding at this moment along the course of a small stream, a confluent of the Rio Bravo del Norte, whose wooded banks afforded sufficient concealment. The adventurer made his horse bound on one side, and drawing his machete, exclaimed—
"Brute yourself, you drunken Opatas!" At the same moment he dealt the poor follow such a sudden blow that he fell off his horse like a log. But he rose to his feet tottering, and though stunned by the attack, and seriously wounded, he drew his sabre, and rushed on the bandit with a yell of fury. But the latter was on his guard; he attentively watched his enemy's movements, and urged his horse forwards. The Indian, thrown down by the animal's chest, rolled on the ground where he lay without stirring. Was he dead? Kidd supposed so; but the bandit was a very prudent man, Indians are crafty, and this death might be a feint. Kidd therefore watched quietly a few paces from his victim, for he was in no hurry.
A quarter of an hour elapsed, and the Indian had not made a movement. Reassured by this complete immobility, the bandit resolved to dismount and go up to him. All at once the Opatas rose; with a tiger leap he bounded on the adventurer, twined his arms round him, and the two men rolled on the ground, uttering savage yells, and trying to take each other's life. It was a short but horrible struggle. The Opatas, in spite of his wounds, derived a factitious strength from the fury that animated him and the excitement produced by intoxication, which was heightened by his ardent desire to take revenge for the cowardly treachery of which he was the victim.
Unhappily, the efforts he was compelled to make opened his wounds, and his blood flowed in streams; and with his blood he felt his life departing. He made a supreme effort to strangle the miserable adventurer in his clenched fingers; but the latter, by a sudden and cleverly calculated movement, succeeded in liberating himself from the Indian's iron grasp. He rose quickly, and at the moment when the asistente recovered from his surprise, and prepared to renew the fight, Kidd; raised his machete, and cleft the poor fellow's head.
"Dog! Accursed dog!" he yelled.
The Indian remained on his feet for a moment, tottering from right to left; he took a step forward with outstretched arms, and then fell with his face to the ground and the death rattle in his throat. This time he was really dead.
"Well," Kidd muttered, as he thrust his machete several times into the ground, in order to remove the blood, "that was tough work; these demons of Indians must be killed twice to make sure they do not recover. What is to be done now?"
He reflected for a few moments; then walked up to the corpse, turned it over, and opened the breast of the uniform to obtain the letter. He had no difficulty in finding it; he placed it in his own pocket, and then stripped his victim, on the chance that he might want to use his uniform. But two things troubled him: the first was the soldier's horse; the second, his bag. The horse he made no attempt to seize; so soon as its master was wounded, the animal started off at a gallop into the wood; and as it would have been madness to try and find it on so dark a night, the adventurer did not attempt it. Still the flight of the horse alarmed him. Any person who found it would take it back to the pueblo, and then suspicions would be aroused which might soon be fixed on him, although he felt almost certain that the soldiers who saw him leave the town with the asistente had not recognized him; but his absence from the pueblo would appear suspicious to the captain, who was acute, and as he knew Kidd so well, would not hesitate to accuse him.
The affair was embarrassing; but luckily for him, the adventurer was a man of resources. Any other person would have fastened a stone to the body, and thrown it into the stream, but the bandit carefully avoided that. Such an expeditious method, while getting rid of the victim, would only have increased the suspicions; besides water is not a good keeper of secrets; one day or another the body would rise perhaps to the surface, and then the nature of the wounds would reveal the hand that dealt them. Kidd hit upon a more simple or sure plan, or at least he thought so. With horrible coolness he scalped the corpse, and threw the scalp into the stream, after rolling it round a large stone; this first profanation accomplished, he made a cross cut on the victim's chest, plucked out his heart, which he also threw into the river, and then plaiting together a few flexible lianas, he formed a cord, which he fastened to the feet of the corpse, and hung it from the main branch of a tree.
"There!" he said, with satisfaction, when the horrible task was completed, "That is all right, caray! I am ready to wager my share of paradise with the first comer that the cleverest people will be taken in. The Indians are in the field at this very moment, and hang me if everyone will not be convinced that this drunken scoundrel was scalped by the Apaches."
In fact, all the hideous mutilating which this villain has made his victim undergo is employed by the Indian bravos upon their enemies. Frightful though the deed was, Kidd consequently, in the impossibility he found of disposing of the body, had employed the best mode in which to divert suspicion.
Before leaving the scene of the murder, the bandit carefully washed the soldier's clothes, and removed any blood stains from his own; then, after assuring himself by a searching glance that there was nothing to denounce the crime of which he had been guilty, he whistled up his horse, and mounted, after carefully fastening the soldier's uniform behind him. He rolled a cigarette, lit it, and set out again, with the satisfaction of a man who had just succeeded in a most important affair, which had caused him great anxiety.
It was somewhat by chance that Kidd originally told the asistente that he was proceeding to Arispe; but the discovery of the letter, and the soldier's confidential remarks, had converted this chance into certainty. The bandit had discovered, amid all poor Isidro's drunken maundering, one leading idea, and scented a profitable stroke of business. He comprehended of what importance it would be to Don Rufino to be informed of all that was going on at the pueblo at the Hacienda del Toro, that he might be able to arrange his plans with certainty. Consequently, the adventurer resolved to ride at full speed to Arispe, determined to make the senator pay dearly for the news he brought, while making a mental reservation, with that adventurous logic he was so skilful in, to betray Don Rufino on the first opportunity, if his own interests demanded that painful sacrifice of him. All this being thoroughly settled in his mind, the bandit started at full speed in the direction of Arispe, which city he reached by sunrise.
As Kidd was well known, he easily obtained admission to the town; but when he had passed the gates, he reflected that it was too early for him to call on the senator, who would still be asleep. Hence he proceeded straight to a rancho he knew, a suspicious den, the usual gathering place of fellows of his sort, where he was certain of a hearty welcome by payment. In fact, the ranchero, who on first seeing him assumed an ill-omened grimace, greeted him with the most agreeable smile when he flashed before his eyes some piastres and gold coins.
The adventurer entered the rancho, left his horse in the corral, and immediately began to arrange his toilette, which was as a general rule neglected, but which his struggle with the asistente and his hurried ride had rendered more disorderly than usual; and then waited, smoking and drinking, for the hour to arrive when he should pay his respects to Don Rufino.
The ranchero, who was thoroughly acquainted with his man and his habits, prowled round him in vain to try and sound him and learn the causes of his appearance in Arispe, where, for certain reasons the police did not care to see him. This rendered his journeys to that town rather few and far between; for the police there, as elsewhere, are very troublesome to a certain class of citizens. But vainly did the ranchero try all his cleverest ruses, his most delicate insinuations; Kidd only answered his questions by insignificant phrases, crafty smiles and winks; but in the end he remained perfectly impenetrable, a want of confidence by which the ranchero was greatly insulted, and he swore to himself to be avenged on the bandit for it some day.
When the Cabildo clock struck nine, Kidd thought it was time to be off; he rose, majestically threw a piastre on the table in payment of his score, wrapped his zarapé round him, and left the house.
"Whom can he have assassinated to be so rich?" the ranchero asked himself, as he cunningly watched him depart.
A reflection which proved that the worthy ranchero was well acquainted with his man.
Kidd felt he was watched, and hence carefully avoided going straight to the senator's house; on the contrary, affecting the careless demeanour of a lounger, he set out in the diametrically opposite direction. The adventurer then walked about the town for half an hour, while carefully avoiding the more frequented streets, for fear of attracting attention on himself; thus he gradually approached the senator's mansion, and hurriedly slipped under the zaguán, after assuring himself by a glance all around that no one had seen him enter.
"Halloa, you fellow!" a voice suddenly shouted to him, making him start and stop; "Where the deuce are you going like that? And what do you want here?" The adventurer raised his eyes, and saw an individual of a certain age, easily to be recognized as a domestic by his clothing, who was standing in the hall door, and resolutely barring his way.
"What do I want?" the bandit repeated, to give himself time to seek an answer.
"Yes, what do you want? That is clear enough, I suppose?"
"¡Caray! It is clear; what can I want except to see his Excellency, Senator Don Rufino Contreras?"
"Excellent," the other said, derisively; "and do you suppose his Excellency will receive you without knowing who you are?"
"And why not, if you please, señor?"
"Because you do not look like drawing room company."
"Do you think so?" the bandit said, haughtily.
"Why, that is plain enough; you much more resemble a lepero than a caballero."
"You are not polite, my good fellow; what you say may be correct, but the remark is uncalled for; patched clothes often conceal very honourable caballeros, and if I have been ill treated by fortune, that is no reason why you should throw it in my teeth so sharply."
"Enough of this, and be off."
"I shall not stir till I have seen the senator."
The manservant gave him a side look, which the other endured with imperturbable coolness.
"Do you mean that?" he asked him.
"I really do."
"For the last time, I order you to be gone," the valet went on, menacingly.
"Take care of what you are doing, comrade; I have to talk with the señor, and he is expecting me."
"Expecting you?"
"Yes, me!" the scoundrel answered, majestically. The servant shrugged his shoulders contemptuously: still he reflected, and asked with a more conciliatory tone than he had yet employed—"Your name?"
"You do not want to know it; merely tell your master that I have just come from the Hacienda del Toro."
"If that is the case, why did you not tell me so before?"
"Probably because you did not ask me. Go and announce me to your master; you have kept me waiting too long already."
The domestic went off without replying, and Kidd took advantage of his departure to instal himself in the vestibule. For a hundred reasons he did not like the vicinity of the street, and he was glad to be no longer exposed to the curious glances of passers-by. The absence of the servant was not long, and when he returned, his manner was entirely changed.
"Caballero," he said, with a bow, "if you will do me the honour of following me, his Excellency is waiting for you."
"Fellow! Too insolent before, too humble now," the adventurer said, crushing him with a contemptuous glance; "show the way."
And, laughing in his beard, he followed the footman, who was red with anger and shame at this haughty reprimand.
Mexican houses, except in the great cities, are ordinarily built but one story high; they are generally very slightly constructed, owing to the earthquakes, which are extremely frequent in intertropical countries, and destroy in a few seconds towns, and entirely ruin them. The result of this mode of building is that nearly all the apartments are on the ground floor; and then there are no staircases to ascend or descend, which, in our opinion, is very agreeable. The adventurer remarked with some degree of pleasure that the valet led him through several rooms before reaching the one in which the senator was sitting; at length he turned the handle of the door, threw it open, and stepped aside to let the bandit pass. The latter walked in boldly, like a man certain of a hearty reception.
"Ah!" said the senator, starting slightly at seeing him, "It is you."
"Yes," he replied, with a graceful bow.
"Retire," Don Rufino said to the valet; "I am not at home to anyone, and do not come in till I call you." The valet bowed, went out, and closed the door behind him. As if by common accord, the two stood silently listening till the valet's footsteps died away in the distance; then, without saying a word, Kidd threw open the folding doors.
"Why do you do that?" Don Rufino asked him.
"Because we have to talk about serious matters; thetapetesspread over the floors of your rooms deaden footsteps, and your servant has an excellent spy's face."
The senator made no remark; he doubtless recognised the correctness of his singular visitor's argument.
"It is you then, bandit," he said at last.
"I fancy I can notice that you did not expect me?"
"I confess it; I will even add that I did not in the slightest desire your visit."
"You are very forgetful of your friends, Don Rufino, and it makes me feel sorry for you," the bandit answered, with a contrite air.
"What do you mean, scoundrel, by daring to use such language to me?"
Kidd shrugged his shoulders, drew up a butaca, and fell into it with a sigh of relief.
"I must observe," he said, with the most imperturbable coolness, "that you forgot to offer me a chair."
Then, crossing one leg over the other, he began rolling a cigarette, a task to which he gave the most serious attention. The senator frowningly examined the adventurer; for this bandit to dare assume such a tone with him, he must have very powerful weapons in his hands, or be the bearer of news of the highest importance. In either case he must be humoured. Don Rufino immediately softened the expression of his face, and handed the adventurer a beautifully chased gold mechero.
"Pray, light your cigarette, my dear Kidd," he said, with a pleasant smile.
The bandit took the mechero, and examined it with admiration.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a splendidly feigned regret, "I have dreamed for years that I possessed such a toy, but, unluckily, fortune has ever thwarted me."
"If it please you so much," Don Rufino answered, with a mighty effort, "I shall be delighted to make you a present of it."
"You are really most generous. Believe me, señor, that any present coming from you will always be most precious in my eyes."
And, after lighting his cigarette, he unceremoniously placed the mechero in his pocket.
"Of course your visit Has an object?" the senator said, after a moment's interval.
"They always have, señor," the other answered, as he enveloped himself in a cloud of blue smoke, which issued from his nose and mouth; "the first was to see you."
"I thank you for the politeness; but I do not think that is sufficient reason for forcing your way in here."
"Forcing is rather a harsh word, señor," the bandit said, sorrowfully; but he suddenly changed his tone, and assumed his usual sharp, quick way. "Come, Don Rufino, let us deal fairly, and not waste our time in compliments which neither of us believes."
"I wish nothing better; speak, then, and the plague take you."
"Thank you. I prefer that mode of speech, for at least I recognise you. I am about to give you an example of frankness; I have come, not to propose a bargain, but to sell you certain information, and a letter of the utmost importance to you, which I obtained—no matter how—solely on your account."
"Good; let us see whether I can accept the bargain."
"In the first place, allow me to say two words, so as to thoroughly establish our reciprocal position. Our situation has greatly changed during the last few days; I no longer fear you, but you, on the contrary, are afraid of me."
"I afraid of you?"
"Yes, señor, because I hold your secret, and you can no longer threaten to kill me, as you did at our last interview."
"Oh! Oh! And why not, if you please?" the senator asked.
"Because we are alone, you are unarmed, I am stronger than you, and at your slightest movement would blow out your brains like those of a wild beast. Do you now comprehend me, my dear sir?" he added, as he drew a brace of pistols from under his zarapé; "what do you think of these playthings?"
"They are tolerably good, I should fancy," the senator replied, coldly; "and what do you say to these?" he added, as he uncovered a brace of magnificent pistols hidden under the papers scattered over the table at which he was seated.
"They are detestable."
"Why so?"
"Because you would not dare use them."
The senator smiled ironically.
"Laugh, if you like, my master; I like best to see you treat the matter in that way; but I repeat that you are in my power this time, instead of my being in yours. I have delivered to Captain Don Marcos Niza certain papers, which, were they opened by him, might, I fear, gravely compromise you: there is one among them, the tenor of which is as follows:—'I, the undersigned, declare that my valet, Lupino Contrarias, has treacherously assassinated and deserted me in a frightful desert, and there plundered me of everything I possessed, consisting of two mules laden with gold dust, and two thousand three hundred gold ounces in current money. On the point of appearing before my God, and not hoping to survive my wounds, I denounce this wretch, etc. etc. Signed—.' Shall I tell the name of the signer? But what is the matter with you, my dear sir? Do you feel ill? You are as pale as a corpse."
In truth, on hearing the narrative, which the bandit told with a species of complacency, the senator was seized with such a violent fit of terror, that for a moment he was on the point of fainting.
"It is extraordinary," the bandit continued, "how nothing can be trusted to in this world. Just take the case of this excellent Lupino, who had arranged a most delicious trap in the adroitest manner: for more surety, he waited till they were on the other side of the Indian border, at a spot where not a soul passes once in two years; he fires his pistols point blank into his master's back, and goes off, of course taking with him the fortune so honourably acquired. Well, fatality decrees that the master whom he had every reason for believing dead is not quite so; he has time to take out his tablets, and write in pencil a perfectly regular denunciation, and then this demon of a fatality, which never does things by halves, brings to these parts a hunter, who picks up the tablets. It is enough to make a man turn honest, deuce take me if it is not, had he not quite made up his mind to the contrary."
During this long harangue the senator had time to recover from the shock, and regain his coolness. By a supreme effort of the will he had restored calmness to his face, and forced his lips to smile.
"¡Caray!" he said, with a laugh that resembled gnashing of teeth, "that is a wonderful story, and admirably arranged. Permit me, dear señor, to congratulate you on your inventive faculty; it is charming, on my word. But who on earth do you expect to believe such a story?"
"You, first of all, señor, for you know the truth of the story better than anybody."
"Nonsense! You are mad, upon my honour."
"Not quite so mad as you fancy, for the proofs are in my hands."
"I do not say they are not; but admitting the reality of the facts you allege, they took place a long time ago; this Lupino Contrarias has disappeared; he is dead, perhaps: as for his master, the pistols were too well loaded to give him a chance of escape. Who takes any interest in a dead man—especially in our country?"
"How do you know that the weapons were so carefully loaded?"
"I suppose so."
"Suppositions are always the plague in business matters. Between ourselves, do you think it would be so difficult to find this Lupino Contrarias in Rufino Contreras? I think not."
The senator felt his face flush involuntarily.
"Señor," he said, "such an insinuation—"
"Has nothing that needs offend you," Kidd interrupted him, calmly; "it is a supposition, nothing more; now, continuing our suppositions, let us admit for a moment that this master, whom his valet is persuaded he killed, should be, on the contrary, alive and—"
"Oh, that is quite impossible."
"Do not interrupt me so, señor. And, I say, were to lay his hand on his valet's shoulder, as I lay mine on yours, and assert, 'This is my assassin!' what answer would you give to that?"
"I—I!" the senator exclaimed, wildly; "What answer should I give?"
"You would give none," the bandit continued, as he took and thrust into his belt the pistols which the senator, in his trouble, had let fall; "overcome by the evidence, and crushed by the very presence of your victim, you would be irretrievably lost."
There was a second of horrible silence between these two men, who looked at each other as if about to have a frightful contest. At length the senator's emotion was calmed by its very violence; he passed his hand over his damp forehead, and, drawing himself up to his full height, said, sharply—
"After this, what would you of me?"
"I am waiting to hear your resolution before I offer any conditions."
Don Rufino Contreras remained for some minutes plunged in deep thought. Kidd watched him attentively, ready to make use of his weapons if he saw the senator attempt any suspicious movement; but the latter did not even dream of it. Annihilated by the adventurer's staggering revelation, he looked round him wildly, racking his mind in vain to discover some way of escape from the terrible dilemma in which he was placed. At length he raised his head, and looked the bandit fiercely in the face.
"Well, yes," he said to him resolutely, "all that you have narrated is true. I cowardly assassinated, to rob him of his fortune, the man who offered me a helping hand in my misery, and treated me as a friend rather than a servant. But this fortune, however badly it may have been acquired, I possess; by its means I have acquired a position in the world; by roguery and falsehood I have succeeded in imposing on everybody; I have rank and a name; and death alone could make me resign this position, so hardly attained. Now that I have spoken frankly with you, it is your turn to do the same. Tell me the conditions you intend to impose on me, and if they are fair, I will accept them; if not, whatever the consequences may be, I shall refuse them. Take care, for I am not the man to remain at the mercy of a villain like you; sooner than accept so horrible a situation I would denounce myself, and drag you down in my fall. Reflect carefully, then, before answering me, comrade, for my proposition is in earnest. Once the bargain is concluded between us, we will say no more about it. I give you ten minutes to answer me."
This clear and categorical proposal affected the bandit more than he liked to show. He understood that he had to do with one of those indomitable men who, once they have made their mind up, never alter it. The adventurer had nothing to gain by ruining Don Rufino, on the contrary; moreover, that never entered into his plan: he hoped to terrify him, and had succeeded; and now the only thing to be done by these two men, so well suited to understand each other, since they had frankly settled facts, was to attack the pecuniary question, and treat it as skilfully as they could; Kidd, therefore prepared to begin the assault.
Don Rufino, with his head resting on his right hand, was carelessly playing with a paper knife, and patiently waiting till his visitor thought proper to speak. This affected indifference perplexed the adventurer: men of Kidd's species instinctively distrust all that does not appear to them natural, and he felt embarrassed by this coolness, for which he could not account, and which he feared might contain a snare. At length he suddenly broke the silence.
"Before all, Don Rufino," he said, "I must tell you the motives of my visit."
"I do not at all care about them," the senator answered, negligently; "still, if you think my knowledge of them may be useful, pray let me hear them."
"I think that when you have heard me, you will change your opinion, señor, and recognise the importance of the service I propose to do you."
"That is possible, and I do not deny it," the senator said, ironically; "but you will allow, my dear Señor Kidd, that you interfere so thoroughly in my affairs, that it is difficult for me to decide, among all the combinations your mind takes pleasure in forming, whether your intentions are good or bad."
"You shall judge."
"Pray speak, then."
"I will tell you, in the first place, that a certain Alguacil, Don Parfindo Purro by name, arrived yesterday at the pueblo of Quitovar."
"Very good," the senator answered, looking fixedly at the bandit.
"Now, I do not know how it is, but the bailiff had scarce reached the pueblo ere by some strange fatality, Captain de Niza was informed of his arrival."
"Only think of that," the senator remarked, ironically; "ever that fatality of which you now spoke to me; it is really being the plaything of misfortune."
In spite of the strong dose of effrontery with which nature had endowed him, the adventurer felt involuntarily troubled.
Don Rufino continued, with a light laugh—
"And still, through this implacable fatality, the captain was not only informed of the arrival of this worthy Don Parfindo, but also of the reasons that brought him."
"How do you know that?" Kidd exclaimed, with pretended surprise.
"Oh, I guess it, that is all," the senator replied, with a slight shrug of his shoulders; "but go on, pray; what you tell me is beginning to become most interesting."
The bandit went on with imperturbable coolness.
"As you are aware, the captain is a relation of the Marquis de Moguer."
"Yes, and a very near relation."
"Hence he did not hesitate, but at once sent off a messenger to the Hacienda del Toro, carrying a letter in which he probably gave the most circumstantial details about the bailiff, and the mission he is charged with."
At this revelation, Don Rufino suddenly doffed the mask of indifference he had assumed, and smote the table fiercely with his fist.
"Ah, that letter!" he exclaimed, "That letter! I would give its weight in gold for it."
"Very well, señor," the bandit remarked, with a smile; "as I am anxious to prove to you the honesty of my intentions, I give it you for nothing."
He took the letter from his pocket, and handed it to the senator; the latter bounded on it like a tiger on its prey, and tore it from Kidd's hands.
"Gently, gently; be good enough to remark that the seal is not broken, and that, as the letter has not yet been opened, I am naturally ignorant of its contents."
"That is true," the senator muttered, as he turned it over and over; "I thank you for your discretion, señor."
"You are most kind," Kidd replied, with a bow.
"But," the senator continued, "how did this letter, addressed to Don Hernando de Moguer, fall into your hands?"
"Oh, very simply," the other replied, lightly; "just fancy that the man the captain selected to carry his missive was a friend of mine. As I intended to pay you a visit at Arispe, and as I felt grieved at seeing this man traverse such a dangerous road alone by night, I offered to accompany him, and he consented. I do not know how it occurred, but on the road we began quarrelling. In short, without any evil intentions on my part, I declare to you, in the heat of the argument I gave him a blow on the head with my machete, so well dealt that he was compelled to die. It grieved me deeply, but there was no remedy; and as I was afraid lest the letter might get into bad hands, I carried it off. That is the whole story."
"It is really most simple," Don Rufino remarked, with a smile, and broke the seal.
Kidd discreetly sat down again in his butaca, in order to leave the senator at liberty to peruse this despatch, which seemed to interest him greatly. He read it through with the utmost attention, and then let his head hang on his chest, and fell into deep thought.
"Well," the adventurer at length asked, "is the news that letter conveys so very bad, that it must entirely absorb you?"
"The news is of the utmost importance to me, señor; still, I ask myself for what purpose you seized it?"
"Why, to do you a service, it strikes me."
"That is all very well; but, between ourselves, you had another object."
The bandit burst into a laugh.
"Did I not tell you that I wish to make a bargain?"
"That is true; but I am awaiting a full explanation from you."
"That is very difficult, señor."
"I admit that it is; well, I will put you at your ease."
"I wish for nothing better."
"I will offer you the bargain you do not like to propose."
"I see that you are beginning to understand me, and that, between the pair of us, we shall come to something."
"You are not rich," the senator remarked, frankly approaching the point.
"I am forced to confess that I am not actually rolling in wealth," he answered, with an ironical glance at his more than ragged attire.
"Well, if you like I will make you a rich man at one stroke."
"What do you mean by rich, señor?" the bandit asked, distrustfully.
"I mean to put you in possession of a sum which will not only protect you from want, but also allow you to indulge your fancy, while living honestly."
"Honesty is a virtue only within reach of those who can spend money without wanting it," the adventurer remarked sententiously.
"Be it so; I will render you rich, to use your language."
"It will cost a good deal," Kidd answered, impudently, "for I have very peculiar tastes."
"I dare say; but no matter. I have in Upper California a hacienda, of which I will hand you the title deeds this very day."
"Hum!" said Kidd, thrusting out his upper lip contemptuously; "Is the hacienda a fine one?"
"Immense; covered with ganado and manadas of wild horses; it is situated near the sea."
"That is something, I allow; but that is not wealth."
"Wait a minute."
"I am waiting."
"I will add to this hacienda a round sum of one hundred thousand piastres in gold."
The bandit's eyes were dazzled.
"What," he said, rising as if moved by a spring, and turning pale with joy, "did you say—one hundred thousand?"
"Yes, I repeat," the senator continued, internally satisfied with the effect he had produced; "do you think that with such a sum as that it is possible to be honest?"
"¡Viva Cristo!I should think so!" he exclaimed, gleefully.
"It only depends on yourself to possess it within a week."
"Oh, yes, I understand; there is a condition. ¡Caray! It must be very hard for me to refuse it."
"This is the condition; listen to me, and, above all, understand me thoroughly."
"¡Caray! I should think I would listen; a hacienda and one hundred thousand piastres—I should be a fool to refuse them."
"You must not impede my prospects in any way; allow me to espouse Doña Marianna, and on the day of the marriage hand me the tablets which you took from the gentleman so unhappily assassinated by his valet."
"Very well. Is that all?"
"Not yet."
"Very good; go on."
"I insist that when you deliver me the tablets, you will supply proof that the writer is really dead."
"¡Caray! That will be difficult."
"That does not concern me; it is your business."
"That is true; and how long will you give me for that?"
"Eight days."
"¡Cuerpo de Cristo!It is not enough; the man is not so easily to be taken unawares."
"Yes; but once that he is dead, you will be rich."
"I know that, and it is a consideration. No matter; caray! It will be a tough job, and I shall risk my hide."
"You can take it or leave it."
"I take it,viva Cristo!I take it. Never shall I find again such a chance to become an honest man."
"Then that matter is quite settled between us?"
"Most thoroughly; you can set your mind at rest."
"Very good; but as you may change your mind someday, and feel an inclination to betray me—"
"Oh, señor, what an idea!"
"No one knows what may happen. You will at once sign a paper on which these conditions will be fully detailed."
"¡Caray! What you ask is most compromising."
"For both of us, as my proposals will be equally recorded."
"But, in that case, what is the good of writing such a paper, as it will compromise you as much as me?"
"For the simple reason that if some day you feel inclined to betray me, you cannot ruin me without ruining yourself, which will render you prudent, and oblige you to reflect whenever a bad thought crosses your brain."
"Do you distrust me, señor?"
"Have you any excessive confidence in me?"
"That is different; I am only a poor scamp."
"In one word, you will either accept the conditions I offer, or any bargain between us will be impossible."
"Still, supposing, señor, I were to use the paper I hold, as you employ such language to me?"
"You would not dare."
"Not dare!" he exclaimed; "And pray why not?"
"I do not know the motive; but I feel sure that if you could have used that document, you would have done so long ago. I know you too well to doubt it, Señor Kidd; it would be an insult to your intellect, whose acuteness, on the contrary, it affords me pleasure to bear witness to. Hence, believe me, señor, do not try to terrify me further with this paper, or hold it to my chest like a loaded pistol, for you will do no good. Your simplest plan will be to accept the magnificent offer I make you."
"Well, be it so, since you are so pressing," he replied; "I will do what you ask, but you will agree with me that it is very hard."
"Not at all; that is just where you make the mistake; I simply take a guarantee against yourself, that is all."
The adventurer was not convinced; still, the bait conquered him, and, with a sigh of regret, he offered no further resistance. Don Rufino immediately wrote down the conditions agreed on between the two men —a sword of Damocles, which the senator wished to hold constantly in suspense over the head of his accomplice, and which, if produced in a court of justice, would irretrievably destroy them both. While the senator was writing, the bandit sought for the means to escape this formidable compromise, and destroy the man who forced it on him when he had received the money. We should not like to assert that Don Rufino had not the same idea. When the senator had concluded this strange deed of partnership, which rendered them mutually responsible, and riveted them more closely together than a chain would have done, he read in a loud voice what he had written.
"Now," he said, after reading, "have you any remark to offer?"
"Deuce take the remarks!" the bandit exclaimed, roughly; "Whatever I might say, you would make no alteration, so it is better to leave it as it is."
"That is my opinion, too—so sign; and to soften any painful effect it may produce on you, I will give you one hundred ounces."
"Very good," he replied, with a smile; and taking the pen from Don Rufino's hand, he boldly placed his signature at the foot of this document, which might cost him his life. But the promise of the hundred ounces made him forget everything; and besides, Kidd was a bit of a fatalist, and reckoned on chance to liberate him from his accomplice ere long.
When Kidd had signed with the greatest assurance, the senator sprinkled gold dust over the paper, folded it, and placed it in his bosom.
"And here," he said, as he thrust his hand into a coffer, "is the promised sum."
He piled the ounces on the table, and Kidd pocketed them with a smile of pleasure.
"You know that I am at your orders, and ready to obey you," he said; "and, as a beginning, I restore you the pistols, which I no longer require."
"Thanks. Have you anything to detain you at Arispe?"
"Not the slightest."
"Then you would offer no objection to leaving the town?"
"On the contrary, I intend to do so as soon as possible."
"That is most fortunate; I will give you a letter for Señor Parfindo, to whom I will ask you to deliver it immediately on your arrival."
"Then you want to send me to the pueblo?"
"Have you any repugnance to return there?"
"Not the slightest; still, I shall not remain there on account of that night's business."
"Ah, yes, that is true, the soldier's death—take care."
"Oh, I shall only remain at the pueblo just long enough to perform the duty you entrust to me, and then leave it immediately."
"That will be most prudent. But no, stay; upon reflection, I think it will be better for you not to return to the Real de Minas. I will send my letter by another person."
"I prefer that. Have you any other order to give me?"
"None; so you can do what you think proper: but remember that I expect you in a week, and so act accordingly."
"I shall not forget it, caray!"
"In that case, I will not detain you. Good-bye."
"Till we meet again, señor."
The senator struck a gong, and the manservant appeared almost immediately. Don Rufino and Kidd exchanged a side-glance. It was evident that the criado, curious, like all servants, had listened at the door, and tried to learn for what reason his master remained so long shut up with a man of the adventurer's appearance; but, thanks to the precautions Kidd had taken, even the sound of the voices, which were purposely suppressed, did not reach him.
"Show this caballero out," the senator said.
The two men bowed for the last time, as if they were the best friends in the world, and then separated.
"Villain!" Don Rufino exclaimed, so soon as he was alone; "if ever I can make you pay me for all the suffering you have forced on me today, I will not spare you."
And he passionately dashed down a splendid vase, which was unluckily within his reach.
For his part, the adventurer, while following the servant through the apartment, indulged in reflections which were anything but rosy coloured.
"Hang it all!" he said to himself; "The affair has been hot. I believe that I shall act wisely in distrusting my friend: the dear señor is far from being tender-hearted, and if he has a chance of playing me an ill turn he will not let it slip. I did act wrong to sign that accursed paper; but, after all, what have I to fear? He is too much in danger to try and set a trap for me; but for all, I will be prudent, for that can do me no harm."
When he had ended this soliloquy he found himself under the zaguán, where the manservant took leave of him with a respectful bow. The adventurer pulled his wide hat brim over his eyes, and departed. In returning to the rancho he employed the same precautions he had used in going to the senator's house, for he was not at all anxious to be recognised and arrested by the Alguaciles; for, as we know, the streets of the town, for certain reasons, were not at all healthy for him. Kidd found the ranchero standing in his doorway, with straddled legs, attentively surveying the approaches to his house.
"Eh!" the host said, with a bow, "Back already?"
"As you see, compadre; but let me have my breakfast at once, for I have a deal to do."
"Are you going to leave us already?"
"I do not know; come, pray make haste."
The ranchero served him without further questioning. The adventurer made a hearty meal, paid liberally to appease his host's ill temper, saddled his horse, and set out, without saying whether he should return or not. A quarter of an hour later he was in the open country, and inhaling with infinite pleasure the fresh, fragrant breeze that reached him from the desert.
We will now leap over an interval of a fortnight, and return to the Hacienda del Toro; but before resuming our story we will cursorily describe the events that occurred during this fortnight, in order to make the reader thoroughly understand by what a strange concourse of events accident brought all our characters face to face, and produced a collision among them, from which an unforeseendénouementissued.
Doña Marianna, persuaded by Doña Esperanza, or, perhaps, unconsciously attracted by the secret longings of her heart, had consented to remain a couple of days with her. These days were occupied with pleasant conversation, in which the maiden at length disclosed the secret which she imagined to be buried in the remotest nook of her heart. Doña Esperanza smiled with delight at this simple revelation of a love which she already suspected, and which everything led her to encourage.
Stronghand, for his part, had yielded to the magical fascination the maiden exercised over him. Feeling himself beloved, his restraint and coldness melted away to make room for an honest admiration. Carried away by the feelings that agitated him, he displayed all the true prudence and goodness contained in his character, which was, perhaps, rather savage, but it was that loyal and powerful savageness which pleases women, by creating in them a secret desire to conquer these rebellious natures, and dominate them by their delicious seductions. Women, as a general rule, owing to their very weakness, have always liked to subdue energetic men, and those who are reputed indomitable; for a woman is proud to be protected, and blushes when she is compelled to defend the man whose name she bears. Contempt kills love. A woman will never love a man except when she has the right to be proud of him, and can say to him, "Spare foes too weak for you, and unworthy of your anger."
During the two days the young couple did not once utter the word love, and yet they clearly explained it and no longer entertained a doubt as to their mutual attachment.
Still it was time to think about returning to the hacienda. It was settled that Doña Marianna should inform her father about what she had learned from Doña Esperanza, that she should not positively refuse Don Rufino's hand, and quietly await events.
"Take care," the maiden said, as she held out her hand to the hunter; "my only hope is in you: if you fail in your plans I shall be left alone defenceless, and death alone will remain to me, for I shall not survive the loss of all my hopes."
"Trust to me, Doña Marianna; I have staked my happiness and my life on the terrible game I am preparing to play, and I feel convinced that I shall win it."
"I will pray to Heaven for both you and myself with such fervour, that I feel confident my prayers will be granted."
These words, with which the young people parted, were equivalent to a mutual engagement. Doña Esperanza tenderly embraced the maiden.
"Remember the legend," she said to her, and Doña Marianna replied with a smile.
The tigrero held the horses by the bridle. Stronghand and ten hunters prepared to follow the travellers at a distance, in order to help them, should it be necessary. The journey was performed in silence. Doña Marianna was too much engaged in restoring some degree of order to her thoughts, which were upset by what had happened during the two days she spent among the hunters, to dream of saying a word to her companion; while he, for his part, confounded by the way in which he had been treated in camp, tried to explain the luxury and comfort which he had never before witnessed in the desert, and which plunged him into a state of amazement from which he could not recover.
As Doña Marianna had expressed a wish to reach their journey's end as quickly as possible, Mariano took a different road from that which he had previously followed, and which ran to El Toro without passing by the rancho.
At about 3 p.m. they came in sight of the rock, and began scaling the path, and then noticed the hunters, commanded by Stronghand, drawn up in good order on the skirt of the forest. When the young lady reached the first gate of the hacienda, the sound of a shot reached her ear, and a white puff of smoke floating over the horsemen made her guess who it was that had fired it. Doña Marianna waved her handkerchief in the air. A second shot was fired, as if to show her that the signal was seen, and then the hunters turned round and disappeared in the forest. Doña Marianna entered the hacienda, and the first person she met was Paredes.
"¡Válgame dios!niña," the worthy majordomo exclaimed; "Where have you come from? The Marquis has been excessively anxious about you."
"Does not my father know that I have been to pay a visit to my nurse?"
"Your brother told him so, niña; but as your absence was so prolonged, the Marquis was afraid that some accident had happened to you."
"You see that it was not so, my good Paredes; so set your mind at rest, and go and re-assure my father, to whom I shall be delighted to pay my respects."
"Don Hernando will be pleased at your return, niña; he is at this moment engaged with Don Ruiz in inspecting the walls on the side of the huerta, in order to make certain that they are in a sound condition for we fear more and more an attack from the Indians."
"In that case do not disturb my father, and I will go and rest in the drawing room, for I am exhausted with fatigue; and when my father has completed his inspection, you will inform him of my return. It is unnecessary to importune him now."
"Importune him!" exclaimed the honest majordomo, "Excuse me, señorita, if I am not of your opinion on that head.¡Viva dios!the Marquis would not forgive me if I did not immediately inform him of your return."
"In that case, act as you think proper, my worthy Paredes."
The majordomo, who had probably only been waiting for this permission, ran off.
"My dear Mariano," the young lady then said, addressing her foster brother, "it is not necessary to tell what we have been doing during our absence. Everybody must suppose that I have not quitted my nurse's rancho; you understand, and I count on your discretion. When the time arrives, I intend myself to inform my father of all that has occurred."
"Enough, niña; you know that your wishes are orders for me. I will not say a word—besides, it is no business of mine."
"Very well, Mariano; now receive my sincere thanks for the services you have rendered me."
"You know that I am devoted to you, niña; I have merely done my duty, and you have no occasion to thank me for that."
The young lady offered him her hand with a smile, and entered her apartments. The tigrero, when left alone, took the bridles of the two horses, and led them to the corral, through the crowd of rancheros, who, by the Marquis's orders, had sought refuge in the hacienda, and had erected their jacales in all the courtyards. Doña Marianna was not sorry to be alone for a few minutes, in order to have time to prepare the conversation she intended to have with her father and brother, whose difficulties she did not at all conceal from herself.
The hacienda was very large, and hence, in spite of all his diligence, it was not till he had spent half an hour in sterile search, that the majordomo succeeded in finding his master. Don Hernando heard, with a lively feeling of joy, of his daughter's return, and immediately gave up his inspection in order to hurry to her. The more heavily misfortune pressed upon the Marquis, the greater became the affection he entertained for his children; he felt a necessity for resting on them, and drawing more closely the family ties. When he entered, with Don Ruiz, the room in which Doña Marianna was awaiting him, he opened his arms and embraced her tenderly.
"Naughty girl!" he exclaimed; "What mortal anxiety you have caused me! Why did you remain so long absent in these troublous times?"
"Forgive me, my dear father," the girl answered, as she returned his caresses; "I incurred no danger."
"Heaven be praised! But why did you stay away from us for three days."
The young lady blushed.
"Father," she answered, as she lavished on her parent those tender blandishments of which girls so thoroughly possess the secret, "during my entire absence I was only thinking of you."
"Alas!" the Marquis murmured, with a choking sigh, "I know your heart, my poor child; unhappily my position is so desperate that nothing can save me."
"Perhaps you may be saved, father," she said, with a toss of her head.
"Do not attempt to lead me astray by false hopes, which, in the end, would render our frightful situation even more cruel than it is."
"I do not wish to do so, father," she said, earnestly, "but I bring you a certainty."
"A certainty, child! That is a very serious word in the mouth of a girl. Where do you suppose it possible to find the means to conjure ill fortune?"
"Not very far off, father; at this very place, if you like."
Don Hernando made no reply, but let his head drop on his chest mournfully.
"Listen to Marianna, father," Don Ruiz then said; "she is the angel of our home. I believe in her, for I am certain that she would not make a jest of our misfortunes."
"Thanks, Ruiz. Oh, you are right; I would sooner die than dream of increasing my father's grief."
"I know it, child," the Marquis answered, with sad impatience; "but you are young, inexperienced, and doubtless accept the wishes of your heart as certainties."
"Why not listen to what my sister has to say, father?" Don Ruiz said. "If she is deceiving herself—if what she wishes to tell us does not produce on you the effect she expects from it, at any rate she will have given an undeniable proof of the lively interest she takes in your affairs; and were it only for that reason, both you and I owe her thanks."
"Of what good is it, children?"
"Good heavens, father! In our fearful situation we should neglect nothing. Who knows? Very frequently the weakest persons bring the greatest help. Listen to my sister first, and then you will judge whether her remarks deserve to be taken into consideration."
"As you press it, Ruiz, I will hear her."
"I do not press, father—I entreat. Come, speak, little sister; speak without fear, for we shall listen—at least I shall—with the liveliest interest."
Doña Marianna smiled sweetly, threw her arms round her father's neck, and laid her head on his shoulder with a charming gesture.