CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.
LOVE'S MALADY.
After the departure of the bandits, a mournful tranquillity reigned inthe hacienda of Las Palmas. Gertrudis, asking herself at every momentof the day whether Don Rafael really no longer loved her, could onlyanswer with certainty that she loved him, and should do so for ever.
One afternoon--it was the third after Arroyo had gone--she sat lookingover the plain as the sun was sinking slowly to the horizon. It wasjust such an evening as that on which she had awaited the arrival of DonRafael. Now, however, the floods had retired, and the landscape hadassumed a more verdant and joyous aspect.
All at once, half-a-dozen horsemen appeared before her eyes, as if justcoming from the hills in the rear of the hacienda. The Spanish pennantsfloating from their lances proclaimed them to be Royalist dragoons. Onerode a little in advance of the rest, evidently their leader. Severalother horsemen appeared, following them: until a large troop was seendefiling across the plain.
Gertrudis heeded not those in rank. Her eyes were solely occupied bythe one who rode in front. He was too distant to be recognised by thesight, but her heart told her who it was.
"I, too," murmured she to herself, "I have been rash in my words--inpronouncing an anathema against those sons of our country who shouldbetray its cause. What matters it to the woman who loves, what flag herbeloved may fight under? His cause should be hers. Why did I not do asmy sister? Ah! why, indeed? Marianita is now happy, while I--" A sighchoked her utterance, and with tears falling from her eyes she continuedsilently to gaze after the horsemen, until their retreating forms meltedaway into the golden haze of the sunset.
Not even once had their leader turned his face towards the hacienda, andyet it was Don Rafael!
It was in reality the dragoon captain, going off in obedience to theorder he had received; and who, to conceal from his soldiers the anguishof his spirit, had thus ridden past the hacienda without turning hishead to look back.
From this time it should have mattered little to Gertrudis where shemight reside. For her, Las Palmas had now only sad memories; but eventhese seemed to attach her to the place; and she could not helpthinking, that her departure from Las Palmas would break the last linkthat bound her to him she so devotedly loved.
When Don Rafael no longer breathed the same air with her, she found amelancholy pleasure in taking care of his beautiful steed--the bay-brownRoncador--that, having galloped off after the encounter with the men ofArroyo, had been recaught by Don Mariano's vaqueros, and brought back tothe hacienda.
Shortly after the marriage of Marianita with Don Fernando de Lacarra wascelebrated. This union had been arranged, long previous to the breakingout of the insurrection, and found no opposition on the part of DonMariano. Don Fernando was a Spaniard, it is true; but he had alreadyobtained the consent of the haciendado. Even under the changedcircumstances in which the revolution had placed the country, it wouldnot have been refused. Like many other Spaniards at this time, DonFernando had chosen for his country, that which held the object of hisaffections; and his sympathies had become enlisted in favour of the landof his adoption.
A few days after his marriage, he bore his young bride home with him tothe hacienda of San Carlos. His mansion was situated not far from thehacienda of Del Valle, lying, as the latter did, on the banks of theriver Ostuta which separated the two estates, and not far from the lakeof the same name.
Most of the people on the estate of Don Fernando--less given toinsurrectionary views than those of Las Palmas--had remained faithful toits owner. On this account, it appeared to offer a more secure abodeduring the troublous times of the insurrection; and Don Fernando wishedto give an asylum to his father-in-law and his family. Don Mariano,however, had declined the offer, in hopes that amidst the stirring lifeand society of a large town he might find distraction for the melancholyof Gertrudis. He preferred, therefore, retiring to Oajaca, and a fewdays after his daughter's marriage had set out. Gertrudis refused touse the _litera_ that had been prepared for her on the journey. Shepreferred riding the beautiful bay-brown, that had so often carried DonRafael; and the fiery Roncador, as if conscious that he was object mostdear to his master, suffered himself to be guided with as much docilityby the fair frail hand of Gertrudis, as if his rein had been held in thevigorous grasp of Don Rafael himself.
Contrary to Don Mariano's expectation, the sojourn in Oajaca provedineffectual in removing the melancholy under which his daughtersuffered. Insensible to all the attractions offered by the best societyof the place, the time hung heavily upon Gertrudis. One moment ofhappiness she enjoyed: and that was when public rumour announced thatColonel Tres-Villas, after capturing the town of Aguas Calientes, hadcaused the hair to be shorn from the heads of three hundred women!
As Trujano had already hinted--having heard it from Marianita, at thehouse of whose husband he had spent several days--this news had for amoment filled the heart of the young Creole with happiness and pride.Amidst the general surprise at this act of singular severity, she aloneknew why it had been accomplished. Don Rafael did not wish that sheshould be the only woman who, by this insurrection, should lament theloss of her hair. Gertrudis, nevertheless, did not fail to reproachherself, for indulging in this moment of selfish happiness.
"_Pobres mujeres_!" (poor women!) exclaimed she, as she drew herfingers through the ebony locks that already replaced the long luxurianttresses she had sacrificed. "_Pobres mujeres_! They have not had, asI, the good fortune to make the sacrifice for the life of those theyloved."
After this occurrence, months passed, without her receiving any news ofDon Rafael; and her cheek, gradually growing paler, with the bluecircles darkening around her eyes, bore witness to the mental tormentshe was enduring.
For the long period of two years this agony continued--the young girl invain endeavouring to stifle the passion that was devouring her life.Both spirit and body, enfeebled by solitude, by silence, and thesedentary character of the life she now led, had not the strength tocontinue the struggle much longer.
Don Rafael had the advantage in this respect. He carried his grief fromone end of the kingdom to the other; and the constant change of scene,along with the distraction caused by the excitement of battles, were tohim a species of relief.
Such advantages were wanting to Gertrudis. Happily, however, God hasgranted to woman, in a large degree, the virtue of resignation--oftenher sole defence against sorrow.
Gertrudis made no complaint, but suffered in silence--concealing, aswell as she could, the dark chagrin that was consuming her. In longsleepless nights, when resignation appeared as if it would soon succumb,a feeble ray of hope would sometimes break upon her spirit, and for themoment restore its equanimity.
It was then she thought of her first resource--that which she intendedto make use of when her power of resistance should be gone--that supremeresource that still existed in the tress of hair she had so carefullycherished and preserved.
The sending back to Don Rafael his horse had already cost her a pang.It had been a step on her part towards compromising the strife betweenher love and pride. Still more painful would it be to resort to thatlast measure, and avail herself of the permission, alas! soprophetically asked for.