CHAPTER XXXII.
IN THE MOUNTAIN.
Dona Rosario was so terrified, and such mortal anguish assailed heron beholding the Count fall under the knives of the assassins, thatshe fainted. When she recovered her senses, it was dark night. Forseveral minutes her confused thoughts whirled about in her brain; andshe endeavoured, but for a long time in vain, to recover the violentlybroken thread of her ideas. At length light returned to her mind; shebreathed a deep sigh, and murmured in a low voice full of terror:
"My God! my God! what has happened to me?"
She then opened her eyes, and cast around a despairing look. We havesaid it was a dark night; but what made the darkness more completefor the poor girl, was a heavy covering of some kind which was spreadover her face, as well as her person. Then, with that patience whichcharacterizes all prisoners, and which is merely the instinct ofliberty, the poor child endeavoured to ascertain what her position was.As well as she could judge, she was lying upon the back of a mule,between two bales; a cord, which passed round her waist, prevented herfrom rising, but her hands were free. The mule had that rough, irregulartrot, peculiar to its species, which made the young girl suffer terriblyat every step. Some horse cloths had been thrown over her, no doubt toprotect her from the heavy dews of the night, or perhaps to prevent herfrom making out what road she was going. Dona Rosario, gently, and withgreat precaution, slipped the covering down from her face: after a fewefforts her head was completely free. She then looked around her; butall was dark. The moon, closely veiled by the clouds which passed overits pale disc, only yielded, at rare intervals, a weak, uncertain light.By lifting her head softly, the young girl could distinguish severalhorsemen, riding before and behind the mule which carried her. As wellas she could make out, from the obscurity which surrounded her, thesehorsemen were Indians.
The rather numerous party--it apparently consisted of a score ofindividuals--followed a narrow road deeply inclosed between two abruptmountains, the rocky masses of which, throwing their shadow over theroad, augmented the darkness. This road rose with a gentle ascent; andthe horses and mules, probably fatigued with a long journey, travelledat a foot pace. The young girl, scarcely recovered from her fainting,had not been able to judge of the time that had elapsed since herabduction; and yet, by collecting her remembrances, and thinking at whathour she had been the victim of this odious attempt, she calculatedthat twelve hours must have passed away since she was made a prisoner.Overcome by the effort she had been forced to make in order to lookaround her, the poor girl let her head sink back again, stifling a sighof despondency; and closing her eyes, as if to isolate herself the more,she plunged into sad and deep meditations.
She was at least ignorant of whom she was with. Many times, it was true,Don Tadeo had spoken to her of an inveterate enemy, inveterate for herdestruction; of a woman whose hatred watched her incessantly, ready tosacrifice her on the first favourable opportunity. But who was thiswoman? What cause had she for her hatred? Was she in the hands of thiswoman at that moment? And if so, why had she not already sacrificedher to her vengeance? From what motive had she been spared? For whatpunishment was she reserved?
These thoughts and many others came in crowds to assail the maiden'sbewildered mind. This uncertainty was for her an atrocious torture; atthat moment, the truth would, perhaps, have been a consolation. Man isso constructed, that what he is most in dread of is the unknown; what heis ignorant of, assumes instinctively, in the prepossessed eyes of onewhom a terrible danger menaces, gigantic proportions, a thousand timesmore terrific than the danger itself. The diseased imagination createsfor itself phantoms which reality, however horrible it may be, putsto flight. In a word, the condemned prisoner who is led to punishmentsuffers more from the apprehensions which the fear of the death awaitinghim inspires him with, than the physical pain of that death itself willcause him. Such was, at this moment, the situation of Dona Rosario; hermind, filled with inquietude and dark presentiments, made her dreadnameless sufferings, the mere thought of which froze the young blood inher veins.
The caravan still proceeded; it had left the ravine, and was climbinga path traced along the edge of a precipice, at the base of whichcould be heard the dull murmur of invisible water. At times, a stone,half-broken beneath the hoof of a mule, became detached, and rolled witha sinister noise down the side of the mountain, to engulf itself in thewaters, into which it plunged with a dull plash, the sound of whichascended from the abyss. The wind howled through the pines and larches,the clashing branches of which showered a deluge of dry cones upon thetravellers. At intervals the owl, and the screech owl, concealed inthe crevices of the rocks, poured out into the night their plaintivenotes, breaking the silence dismally. Furious barkings were heard in thedistance; by degrees they grew nearer, and ended by forming a frightfulconcert, broken by the sharp voices of women and children, endeavouringto quiet them; lights appeared, and the caravan stopped. They hadevidently arrived at the halt, at which they were to pass the rest ofthe night.
The maiden cast an anxious but cautious look around her; but the flameof the torches agitated by the wind would not permit her to see anythingbut the dark outlines of some buildings and the shadows of severalindividuals who flitted about her, with cries and laughter--nothingmore. The people of the escort were busily employed in unsaddling thehorses and unloading the mules, amidst cries and oaths, and did notappear to bestow the least attention upon the young girl.
A considerable time passed away; Dona Rosario did not know to what toattribute this unaccountable forgetfulness. At length she felt thatsomeone took the mule by the bridle, and she heard him shout in a hoarsevoice, _Arrea!_--the word with which the arrieros are accustomed toexcite their beasts. Had she, then, been deceived? Was it not here theywere to stop? What was the meaning of the halt, then? Why did a portionof the escort leave her?
Her uncertainty was not of long duration; at the end of ten minutes atmost, the mule stopped again, and the man who led it approached DonaRosario. This man, clothed in the costume of the Chilian peasantry, worean old straw Panama hat, the large brim of which, pulled down over hisface, prevented her distinguishing his features. At the sight of thisindividual, the young girl felt an involuntary shudder run through herframe. The peasant, or pretended peasant, without addressing a word toher, withdrew the covering which enfolded her, untied the cord whichbound her to the mule, and taking her in his arms, carried her with asmuch ease as if she had been a child, into a detached cabin a few pacesdistant, the door of which, standing open, seemed to invite them toenter.
The interior of this cabin was dark. The young girl was laid upon theground with a care and attention she did not expect. At the moment whenhe let her sink softly down from his arms to the ground, the man benthis head down towards her, and in a voice as inaudible as a breath, hewhispered, "Courage! and hope!" and recovering himself quickly, wenthastily out of the cabin, closing the door after him.
As soon as he was gone, Dona Rosario sprang upon her feet. The two wordspronounced by the unknown had sufficed to restore her presence of mind,and remove all her terrors. Hope, that universal panacea, that supremegood, which God, in His infinite mercy, has given to the unfortunateto help them to suffer, had suddenly re-entered her heart; she feltherself become strong, and ready to engage in the struggle with herunknown enemies. She knew now that a friend watched in secret over her,and, if required, his assistance would not be wanting; therefore it wasalmost with impatience, though still with fear, that she waited for herravishers to signify their intentions.
The place in which she was confined was completely dark. At the firstmoment she in vain endeavoured to distinguish anything in this chaos;but, by degrees, her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and, infront of her, she perceived a faint light, which flitted between thebadly-joined boards of a door. She then, with great precaution, forfear of arousing her invisible guardians, and stretching out her handto keep her from contact with any obstacle she could not see, advancedcautiously, and listening attentively
, towards the side from which camethe light--a light which attracted her as instinctively as a flameattracts the imprudent moth whose wings it burns.
The nearer she approached, the more distinct the light became, and thesound of a voice reached her ears. At length her extended hands touchedthe door, and leaning forward, she applied her eye to the chink. Shestifled a cry of surprise, and, as at that moment the conversation,which had been for a short time interrupted, recommenced, she listenedwith intensity.