CHAPTER XIX.
THE END OF THE STORY.
Here Don Estevan paused in his recital.
"All this is frightful!" exclaimed Don Fernando, in accents of mingledanger and pity.
"It is not all," replied the other.
"But what connection has this horrible story with Don Pedro de Luna?"
"Did I not tell you when I first began that the history was his?"
"You did; but, carried away by the dreadful incidents of yournarrative, I lost sight of the personages. My whole mind was soexcited, that I fancied myself a spectator of the scenes that passedbefore me with such giddy rapidity, and did not recollect that one ofthe actors was so close to us. But how does it happen that you are sowell acquainted with the details of this miserable tragedy?"
"I have heard them told many and many a day, from infancy till nowthat I am a man. My father was the Corporal Luco, whom you have seenso devoted to the Ribera family. My poor mother was the nurse, and Iam foster brother to Don Guzman's child; for we were born about thesame date, and my mother, who was brought up in the family, was veryanxious to nurse us both, insisting that, in imbibing the same milk asmy young master, my devotion to him would be endless. Alas! God hasdecided otherwise; he is dead."
"Who can tell?" said Don Fernando, with gentle pity; "Perhaps he maymake his appearance again some day."
"Alas! We have no longer any hope. More than twenty years have elapsedsince the frightful catastrophe, and during all that time no efforts,however active, have sufficed to lift a corner of the mysterious veilwhich conceals the fate of the poor child."
"His poor mother must have suffered dreadfully."
"She went mad. But the sun is rapidly sinking to the horizon, and nightwill be here before two hours have passed. Let me finish my tale, bytelling you what happened after the arrest of Don Guzman."
"Go on, my friend; I am anxious to know the end of this dark story."
Don Guzman replied by a smile of contempt to the summons of ColonelBernardo Pedrosa. He raised his wife in his arms, and prepared tofollow his enemy. Notwithstanding his hatred of Don Guzman, DonBernardo was a man of the world; the misery which overwhelmed the manhe had so long persecuted touched his heart. His pity was aroused, andon his way back to Buenos Aires he showed the greatest consideration,treating him with all the respect his unhappy position demanded.
The Dictator was furious at the massacre of his hirelings. Rejoiced atfinding a plausible pretext to free himself from a man whom, on accountof his great reputation and influence amongst the highest classes ofsociety, he had hitherto dreaded to attack, Rosas determined to make aterrible example of him. Rudely separated from his wife, the prisonerwas cast into one of those horrible dungeons in which the tyrant'svictims languished, awaiting the tortures he prepared for them.
But the Dictator's vengeance was not destined to be as complete as hehoped. The French and English consuls, moved by pity for the miserablestate to which Dona Antonia was reduced, made energetic remonstrancesto the tyrant, and even went several times to Palermo to hunt up thesavage in his lair In short, by dint of prayers and menaces, theyobtained the release of the poor woman, and her restoration to herfamily; Rosas gnashing his teeth and foaming with rage when he grantedthe favour. But he did not dare to brave the consuls, and felt his wantof power to cope with them. Thanks to this beneficent intervention, andthe mighty power they exercised in her behalf, Dona Antonia, at least,escaped the tortures the tyrant was preparing to inflict.
As to Don Guzman, all attempts in his favour were unsuccessful. Rosasnot only refused to release him, but even to mitigate the terribletreatment to which he was ordered to be subjected in prison.
Unfortunately, Don Guzman was guilty in the eye of the law. The consulscould take no official steps and were obliged to desist, for fear ofexasperating the tiger to heap greater injuries on the man in whom theytook such lively interest.
Six months had elapsed since Don Guzman was arrested. Thanks to thecare with which Dona Antonia was surrounded, she recovered her reason.But her position was thereby rendered worse; for she was now able toappreciate her calamity to its fullest extent. She comprehended howgreat was her misfortune; and her despair reduced her to such utterprostration, that her life was in danger.
While this was going on, the rumour was spread abroad that Don Guzman,who had seemed forgotten in his dungeon, was to be brought up forjudgment, and shortly to appear before a court martial.
Rosas eagerly seized the opportunity of giving all publicity to a trialfor high treason, hoping to make men forget the murders committedin his name, in the interest of the discussion which would ariseconcerning the trial.
The report was soon officially confirmed; the day was named on whichDon Guzman was to appear before his judges.
But there is one person of whom we have not spoken for some time, andto whom we must now recur,--no other than Corporal Luco.
The worthy corporal, when he saw the _arrieros_ and wagoners go off,and that Don Leoncio had abandoned his brother with the greater numberof _peones_, did not attempt to deceive himself as to his own position.A traitor and deserter, the least that could happen to him would be tobe shot. So when, by the first rays of the rising sun, he saw a cloudof dust rising afar off in the Pampas, he concluded that soldiersmust be hidden by it; that these soldiers were coming to avenge theircomrades, whom he, Luco, had helped to slay with so much good will; andthat if they caught him, they would instantly shoot him. The prospectwas not pleasant to the corporal; at the same time he loved his master,and could not resolve to leave him. He was thus in great perplexity,and unable to come to a decision, though time pressed.
Luckily his wife came to the rescue, and made him comprehend that anyattempt, in Don Guzman's present state, to induce him to fly must fail;that, after all, it was better to preserve his freedom, in order to useit hereafter to obtain his master's; and lastly, that he too, Luco, wasa father, who ought to save his life for his child's sake.
All these reasons conquered the corporal's hesitation. He seized onehorse, his wife another; and both vanished on one side, while thesoldiers came up on the other.
When he arrived at Buenos Aires, a bright idea struck him. ExceptingMunoz and three other soldiers who had taken his part and fought withhim against their former comrades, all the _mashorqueras_ had beenslain. Not one remained to accuse the corporal of the treason of whichhe felt himself guilty. Munoz, whom he encountered strutting beforethe gates of Buenos Aires waiting for his arrival, banished all hisscruples.
Taking up his part directly, the worthy corporal accompanied by hisconfederates, went straight to his colonel, to whom he told hisown version of what had happened at the _rancho_, launching out ininvectives and threats of vengeance against Don Guzman, for whom heexpressed the utmost abhorrence.
His artifice succeeded beyond his expectations. The colonel charmedwith his conduct, and trusting to his tale, made him a sergeant, andgave the corporal's stripe to Munoz. The brave _colorados_ overwhelmedthe colonel with thanks and protestations of devotion to Rosas, andretired, laughing in their sleeve.
Luco managed so well during the six months before Don Guzman's trial,and gave such convincing proofs of his attachment to the cause ofthe Dictator, that the latter, deceived in turn, although, like allother tyrants, he made a virtue of distrust, reposed the greatestconfidence in him; and when the sergeant asked to command the guardwhich was to take charge of Don Guzman during the trial, not the leastobjection was made. This was exactly what the sergeant wanted: all hismachinations during these six months tended to this one aim; so, whenthe day for the trial was named, he prepared his batteries, and kepthimself ready for action when the critical moment should come. Lucohad sworn to save his master; and what the sergeant once resolved, hecarried out, let the consequences be what they would.
Unhappily, the greatest obstacles in the way of the sergeant underthese circumstances came from Don Guzman himself. The prisoner wishedto die. For a long time Luco racked his brain in vain
attempts atfinding some means to persuade him to relinquish the feeling. To allhis arguments Don Guzman replied, that his cup was full; that life wasa burden to him; and that death was the only good he could henceforthlook for.
The sergeant shook his head, and retired, perfectly convinced of thefallacy of the arguments. At length he arrived one day at the dungeon,and opened the door with a countenance so radiant with joy, that hismaster could not help remarking it, and asking what had made him sohappy.
"Ah," replied the sergeant, "at last I have found out the way toconvince you."
"You are dreadfully tenacious of your plan to save me," said DonGuzman, with a mournful smile.
"More so than ever, _icanarios!_ This time there will be no doubtabout your compliance. In two days you shall judge for yourself."
"So much the better," said Don Guzman, sighing; "it will be over thesooner."
"Good! We are not so badly off for friends as you think, senor--amongstothers, the French and English consuls. There is a fine French schoonerin the harbour, which only waits for your presence on board to saildirectly."
"Then she runs the risk of never leaving Buenos Aires."
"Pooh! pooh! I am of a different opinion--I think quite the contrary.I have come to an understanding with the French consul. The day aftertomorrow the schooner will set sail: she will send a boat to fetch you,and will hug the coast till you come. Once under the protection of theFrench flag, who will dare to touch you?"
"For the last time, listen to me, Luco," said Don Guzman firmly: "Iwill not--understand me--I will not be saved. I intend that the infamyof my death shall cover the Dictator with confusion. I thank you foryour devotion, my good old servant; but I demand that you cease tocompromise yourself by your efforts for me. Let us speak no more of it."
"Then," said the sergeant, "your mind is quite made up? Nothing canchange your determination?"
"Alas! One single person might have that influence over me; but thatperson is in ignorance of all that happens around her. Happilyfor her, she has lost her reason, and with reason her memory--thatincurable cancer of a broken heart."
The sergeant smiled, and, opening his uniform produced a letter fromhis breast, and, without a word, handed it to Don Guzman.
"What is this, Luco?" said the latter, as he hesitated to take theletter.
"Read it, _mi amo_," replied the sergeant. "I wanted to give you acomplete surprise; but you are so obstinate, I am obliged to deploy myforces."
Don Guzman opened the letter with trembling hands, and rapidly ranthrough it.
"Almighty Father!" he exclaimed, "Is it possible? Dona Antonia hasrecovered her reason, and bids me live!"
"Will you obey this time, _mi amo?_"
"Do what you will, Luco; I will obey you in all things. Oh, how I wishto live now!"
"_iCuerpo de Cristo!_ You shall live, _mi amo_. I swear it to you."
With this consoling promise, Luco quitted the prison.
The day of Guzman's trial arrived at last. The Dictator, who knew howmuch sympathy the prisoner excited, considered it prudent to makea grand military display on the occasion. The city was literallycrammed with troops, the precautions being taken more for the purposeof intimidating the friends of the prisoner, than as precautionarymeasures against an escape, which he deemed impossible.
The French schooner, as Luco had predicted, sent a boat's crew ashore,on the pretence of closing the agent's accounts; she then weighedanchor, and stood on and off in the river expecting her boat.
The detachment detailed to escort the prisoner was strong, and composedentirely of _colorados_, Rosa's most devoted troops. It was placedunder the command of Colonel Don Bernardo de Pedrosa; the specialplatoon in charge of the prisoner was under the orders of Sergeant Lucoand Corporal Munoz.
Twenty minutes before the specified time for commencing the marchto the court, Luco entered his master's dungeon, and had a finalconversation with him. He then gave him two pairs of pistols and aponiard, and left him, saying;
"Remember _mi amo_, to keep quite quiet till you hear the words, nevermind from whom: 'To the devil with the sun! It blinds one!'--that isyour signal."
"Make yourself easy; I will not forget. Remember your promise to killme, rather than to let me fall again into the hands of the tyrant."
"Enough, _mi amo._ Pray God to help us; we stand in great need of Him."
"Farewell, Luco: you are right; I will pray."
The two men parted, not to meet again till the decisive moment.
However, the sergeant grew more anxious as that moment approached.The formidable preparations of the Dictator raised his secretapprehensions. But he gave no signs of his perturbation, for fear ofdiscouraging his accomplices; on the contrary, he affected an air ofperfect confidence, though he kept grumbling under his moustache:"Never mind, it will be a hard tussle; we shall have plenty of firing."
Soon after, the clock of the cabildo (court of justice) struck ten. Thedrum called the soldiers to arms; the gossips in the street stretchedtheir heads forward, murmuring an "Ah!" of satisfaction: all eyes werefixed on the prison.
They had not long to wait. At the close of a few minutes, the prisondoor opened, and the prisoner came forth. His face was pale, calm, andstamped with indomitable resolution. He marched quietly in the middleof a dozen soldiers commanded by Sergeant Luco. The latter, as ifwishing to be specially careful of his prisoner, strode on his right,Munoz on his left, almost side by side with Don Guzman.
The platoon was preceded by a strong detachment of _colorados_, at thehead of which curveted Colonel Don Bernardo de Pedrosa on a magnificentcoal-black stallion; in rear of the prisoner there was a seconddetachment, as strong as the one in advance. The procession advancedslowly between two mournful and silent crowds of people, who were withdifficulty kept down by two lines of sentries.
It was one of those magnificent spring mornings which South Americaalone has the privilege of producing. The fresh breeze from the Pampas,laden with odoriferous scents, rustled in the leaves and branches ofthe gardens attached to the houses, and cooled the air heated by thebeams of the tropical sun.
The procession still continued its march. In spite of the dangerwhich lay in any exhibition of sympathy for the prisoner, the crowdrespectfully uncovered as he passed. He, calm and dignified as atthe moment he quitted the prison, marched on, his hat in his hand,saluting, right and left, the people who were not afraid of testifyingtheir respect.
Two-thirds of the road had already been travelled; a few minutes more,and the prisoner would reach the tribunal, when, in the Calle de laFederacion, several spectators, no doubt too rudely pushed back bythe soldiers lining the road, resisted the pressure to which theywere subjected, drove back the sentries, and, for a moment, almostbroke their line. As the procession approached, this tumult graduallyincreased: cries, recriminations, and threats were bandied about withthe vivacity and rapidity peculiar to the races of the South, untilwhat seemed at first sight to be a squabble of no importance, began toassume the dimensions of a veritable riot.
Don Bernardo, uneasy at the noise he heard, left the head of theescort, and came galloping back to ascertain what was going on, and topacify the tumult.
Unluckily, the popular feeling had risen with so much rapidity, thatat several points the ranks had been broken, the soldiers isolated,and--how it happened no one could say--disarmed, with unexampledcelerity, by persons of whom they had no knowledge. In short theprocession was cut in two.
Don Bernardo saw at a glance the gravity of the situation. Making way,with considerable difficulty, through the crowd, he rode up to thesergeant, who, cool and imperturbable, still stuck to his prisoner.
"Aha!" said the colonel, with a sigh of satisfaction, "Take me goodcare of the prisoner. Close up! I fear you will be obliged to open apassage by main force."
"We will open one, do not you be alarmed, colonel. But to the devilwith the sun! It blinds one."
The moment he uttered these words, a soldier who was close at handseized t
he colonel's leg, and threw him from his horse on the ground.In the same instant, Luco caught hold of the bridle, while Don Guzman,rapid as thought vaulted into the saddle.
What we have related took place so suddenly, and the whole was done soadroitly, that Don Bernardo, completely confounded, was nailed to theground by a bayonet before he could comprehend what was happening: itis even probable that he died without guessing the cause of the riot.
In the meantime, the twelve riders of the platoon had closed aroundtheir ex-prisoner, and started at full speed through the thickest ofthe throng.
Then a curious thing occurred: these inquisitive gapers, who were aninstant before so crowded and compact that they had broken through theline of soldiery, open right and left before the fugitives, shoutedtheir joy at their success, and, the moment they had passed, closed upthe breach they had themselves made, and again presented an impassablehuman barrier to the rearguard, which vainly strove to break it.
Armed men seemed to start suddenly out of the ground, gave the soldiersback blow for blow, and offered a resistance sufficiently energetic toallow time for the fugitives to secure their safety.
Then, suddenly as if by enchantment, these menacing crowds, which hadso lately disputed the ground, retreated, melted away, in some manneror another; and that so speedily, that when the soldiers, recoveredfrom their surprise, were prepared for a vigorous defence, there was noone in front of them: the insurgents had disappeared, without leavingany traces behind them.
This audacious affray might almost have passed for a dream, were it notthat, on one side, the prisoner had escaped, and, that on the other,Colonel Pedrosa, and five or six soldiers, lay weltering in their bloodon the ground; proving the reality of the daring _coup-de-main_ whichhad been executed with such remarkable audacity and success.
Don Guzman and his companions found refuge in the boat which waswaiting for them. Five minutes later, they were on board the Frenchship; and when pursuit was ordered, the schooner could only be seen onthe horizon, like a halcyon's wing balanced on the breeze.
On board the schooner Don Guzman found his wife. The schooner sailedfor Veracruz.
We have already related the decision which Don Guzman had made, and inwhat manner he carried it out.
In order to insure the success of the researches he was about to maketo find his son, and to secure his own tranquillity, Don Guzman, onsetting foot in Mexico, resigned his own name for that of Don Pedro deLuna, to which he had a right, and under which we shall still continueto designate him.[1] He hoped by these means to escape the persecutionsof Don Leoncio, whose hatred, still unsatiated by the abduction of thechild, might possibly lead him to attempt to add his brother as anothervictim.
Don Guzman's calculations were correct, or seemed so. Since hisdeparture from Buenos Aires, he had never heard of his brother: no oneknew what had become of him, nor whether he were alive or dead.
Five years after his arrival at the _hacienda_, a fresh misfortuneovertook the poor exile. Dona Antonia, who had never completelyrecovered the shock to her mind, the consequences of the terribleoccurrences in the Pampas, and whose health had always languishedsince, had expired in his arms, after giving birth to a daughter.
This daughter was the charming girl whom we have presented to ourreaders under the name of Dona Hermosa.
From that time forth, Don Pedro concentrated his affections on thisdelicate creature, the only bond which attached him to an existencewhich might have been so happy, and which, struck by the cold breath ofadversity, had suddenly become so miserable.
Of all those who had accompanied him into exile, he alone remained. Allthe rest were dead: he had seen them sink, one after another, into thetomb. Manuela, Luco's wife, the confidante of her master's sorrows, wascharged with the education of his daughter; a charge she executed withcare and devotion beyond praise.
Such was the tale related by the _major-domo._ In order that the readermay fully understand the events recorded in subsequent chapters,it is necessary to remind him that Dona Hermosa was sixteen at thecommencement of our story, and that four years intervened between theretirement of Don Pedro to the Hacienda de las Norias and the birthof his daughter. Consequently twenty years had elapsed since theoccurrence of the circumstances narrated by Don Estevan Diaz.
[1] See "Stoneheart," the companion volume.
THE END.
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