THE MEETING.
Ever since Count de la Saulay's arrival at the hacienda del Arenal,
doña Dolores had treated him with a degree of reserve which the
marriage projects made by the two families were far from justifying.
The young lady had not only had no private interviews with the man
whom she ought to consider to some extent her betrothed, but had not
indulged in the slightest intimacy, or most innocent familiarity; while
remaining polite, and even gracious, she had contrived, ever since the
first day they met, to raise a barrier between herself and the count--a
barrier which he had never attempted to scale, and which had condemned
him to remain, perhaps against his secret wishes, within the limits of
the strictest reserve.
In these conditions, and especially after the scene at which he had
been present on the previous evening, we can easily understand what the
stupefaction of the young man must be on learning that doña Dolores
requested an interview with him. What could she have to say to him?
For what motive did she grant him this meeting? What reason impelled
her to act thus? Such were the questions which the count did not cease
to ask himself--questions which necessarily remained unanswered. Hence
the young man's anxiety, curiosity, and impatience, were aroused to
the highest degree, and it was with a feeling of joy, which he could
not fully explain, that he at length heard the hour for the interview
strike. Had he been in Paris instead of a Mexican hacienda, he would
have certainly known beforehand what he had to expect from the message
he had received, and his conduct would have been regulated beforehand.
But here the coldness of doña Dolores toward him--a coldness which had
never once thawed--the preference which after the last night's scene
she seemed to give to another person, all combined to deprive this
interview of the slightest supposition of love. Was it his renunciation
of her hand, and immediate retirement, that doña Dolores was about to
request of him?
Singular contradiction of the human mind! The count, who felt for this
marriage a repulsion more and more marked, whose formal intention it
was to have, as soon as possible, an explanation on this subject with
don Andrés de la Cruz, and whose firm resolution it was to withdraw,
and renounce the alliance so long prepared, and which displeased him
the more because it was forced on him--revolted at the supposition of
this renunciation, which, without doubt, doña Dolores was going to ask
him; his wounded self-esteem made him regard this question under a
perfectly new light, and the contempt which the young lady seemed to
feel for his hand, filled him with shame and anger.
He, Count Ludovic de la Saulay, young, handsome, rich, renowned for his
wit and elegance, one of the most distinguished members of the jockey
club, one of the gods of fashion, whose conquests occupied every mouth
in Paris, had produced on a half wild girl no other impression but that
of repulsion, had inspired no other feeling but a cold indifference.
There was certainly something desperate about this; for an instant he
went so far as to fancy--for anger blinded him to such an extent--that
he was really in love with his cousin, and he was on the point of
swearing to remain deaf to the tears and supplications of doña Dolores,
and insisting on the completion of the marriage within the shortest
period possible. But fortunately the pride which had urged him to this
determination suddenly suggested to him a more simple, and assuredly
more agreeable way to escape from the embarrassment.
After taking a complacent glance at his person, a smile of haughty
satisfaction lit up his face; he found himself both physically and
morally so immeasurably above his surroundings, that he only felt a
sort of merciful pity for the poor girl whom the bad education she had
received prevented from appreciating the numberless advantages which
gave him a superiority over his rivals, or understanding the happiness
she would find in an alliance with him.
While revolving all these, and many other thoughts, the count left his
rooms, crossed the courtyard, and proceeded to the apartments of doña
Dolores. He remarked, though without attaching much importance to the
fact, that several saddle horses were waiting in the court, held by
peons. At the door of the apartments stood a young Indian girl with
pretty face, and sparkling eyes, who greeted him with a smile and a
profound courtesy, as she made him a sign to enter. The count followed
her; the waiting maid passed through several elegantly furnished rooms,
and finally raised a curtain of white China crape, embroidered with
large flowers of every hue, and introduced the count, without saying a
word, into a delightful boudoir, furnished throughout with China lace.
Doña Dolores, half-reclining on a hammock of aloe fibre, was amusing
herself with teasing a pretty parrot half the size of her hand, and was
laughing heartily at the little creature's cries of fury.
The young lady was charming, thus: the count had never seen her
so lovely. After bowing deeply to her, he stopped in the door,
experiencing an admiration mingled with such great stupefaction, that
doña Dolores after looking at him for a moment, could not retain her
seriousness, but burst out into a silvery peal of laughter.
"Forgive me, cousin," she said to him, "but you look so singular at
this moment, that I could not help--"
"Laugh, laugh, my fair cousin," the young man replied, resolved to
share this gaiety which he was so far from expecting, "I am delighted
to find you in such good humour."
"Do not stay there, cousin," she continued, "set down here near me in
this butaca," and with her pink finger she pointed to an armchair.
The young man obeyed.
"Cousin," he said, "I have the honour of obeying the invitation which
you deigned to send me."
"Ah, that is true," she answered; "I thank you for your kindness, and
more especially for your punctuality, cousin."
"I could not display too great eagerness in obeying you, cousin, I have
so rarely the happiness of seeing you."
"Is that a reproach you are addressing to me, cousin?"
"Oh, by no means, Madam. I in no way claim the right of offering you
what you are pleased to call reproaches: you are at liberty to act as
you please, and to dispose of me."
"Oh, oh, my dear cousin, I fancy if I were disposed to make trial of
this noble devotion, I should expose myself to shame and you would
refuse me point blank."
"Now we have it," the young man thought and added aloud, "it is my most
sincere desire to please you in everything, cousin. I pledge you my
word as a gentleman, and no matter what you may ask of me, I will obey
you."
"I am much inclined to take you at your word, don Ludovic," she said,
leaning down to him with a delicious smile.
"Do so, cousin, and you will see from my promptitude in obeying you,
that I am the most devoted of your slaves."
The young lady remained pensive for a moment, then putting back on its
rosewood perch the parrot with which she had been playing up till now,
she leaped from her hammock, and seated herself a short distance from
the count.
"Cousin," she said to him, "I have a service to ask of you."
"Of me? At length I shall be of some use to you."
"This service," she continued, "is not of great importance in itself."
"All the worse."
"But I fear, lest it may cause you great annoyance."
"What matter, cousin, the annoyance I may experience, if I can be of
service to you."
"Cousin, I thank you, this is the affair: I must take a rather long
ride today, for reasons you will soon appreciate. I cannot and will
not be accompanied by any of the inhabitants of the hacienda, whether
masters or servants. Still, as the roads are not, at this moment,
perfectly secure, and I dare not venture to traverse them alone,
I want with me, in order to protect and defend me if necessary, a
peon whose presence at my side could not give rise to any malevolent
suppositions. I have thought of you as my companion on this expedition.
Do you consent, cousin?"
"With delight: I would merely remark that I am a stranger to this
country, and might lose my way on roads I am unacquainted with."
"Do not trouble yourself about that, cousin, I am a native of the
country, and have no fear about losing my way for fifty leagues round."
"If that is the case, cousin, all is for the best: I thank you for
the honour you deign to do me, and place myself completely at your
disposal."
"It is for me to thank you, cousin, for your extreme kindness; the
horses are saddled, the Mexican garb becomes you admirably, go and put
on your spurs, warn your valet that he will have to accompany you, and
fetch your weapons: that is an important point, for you never know what
may happen, and come back in ten minutes, when I shall be ready for
you."
The count rose, bowed to the young lady, who responded by a gracious
smile, and left the room.
"By Jove," he muttered as soon as he was alone, "this is delightful,
and the duty she intends for me is most satisfactory. I fancy I am
simply accompanying my delightful cousin to some love appointment. But
how was it possible to refuse her anything! I never saw her looking so
lovely as today. On my soul, she is a charming fay, and unless I take
care, I may end by falling in love with her, unless I have done so
already," he added with a stifled sigh.
He returned to his rooms ordered Raimbaut to get ready to follow him,
which the worthy valet did with the punctuality and silence that
distinguished him, and after buckling on his heavy silver spurs, and
throwing a _sarape_ over his shoulders, he selected a double-barrelled
gun, a straight sabre, a brace of revolvers, and thus armed went into
the patio. Raimbaut followed his example, had laid in a complete
arsenal. The two men were thus, without exaggeration, capable in case
of need, to face fifteen bandits.
Doña Dolores, already mounted, was talking with her father while
awaiting the count's arrival. Don Andrés de la Cruz was rubbing his
hands in delight, the good understanding between the young people
charmed him.
"So you are going to take a ride?" he said to the count; "I wish you
all possible pleasure."
"The señorita has deigned to offer to accompany her," Ludovic answered.
"She has acted admirably, for her choice could not be better."
While exchanging these few words with his future father-in-law, the
count had mounted.
"A pleasant trip," continued don Andrés, "and mind you are careful
whom you meet, Juárez' cuadrillas are beginning to prowl about the
neighbourhood, so I have been informed."
"Do not be alarmed, papa," doña Dolores replied; "besides," she added
with a charming smile aimed at the young man, "under my cousin's escort
I fear nothing."
"Be off then and get back early."
"We shall return before the _oración_, papa."
Don Andrés gave them a last farewell nod, and they left the hacienda.
The count and the young lady galloped side by side. Raimbaut, as a well
trained servant, followed a few paces in the rear.
"I will act as your guide, cousin," the young lady said, when they had
ridden some distance out into the plain and were lost among clumps of
liquidambars.
"I could not desire a better one," Ludovic answered gallantly.
"Stay, cousin," she resumed, giving him a side glance, "I have a
confession to make to you."
"A confession, cousin?"
"Yes, I see you are such a good fellow, that I feel ashamed at having
deceived you."
"You deceived me, cousin?"
"Shamefully," she said with a laugh, "as you shall judge. I am leading
you to a spot where we are expected."
"Where you are expected, you mean."
"No, because it is you they want especially to see."
"I confess, cousin, that I do not understand you at all: I know no one
in this country."
"Are you quite sure of that, my dear cousin?" she asked with a mocking
air.
"Well, I believe so at least."
"Then, you are beginning to doubt."
"You seem so sure of your fact."
"I am so, indeed: the person who expects you, not only knows you, but
is a friend of yours."
"Very good, this makes the matter more puzzling than ever: go on, I
beg."
"I have but very little to add, besides, in a few minutes we shall have
arrived, and I do not wish to keep you in doubt any longer."
"That is very kind of you, cousin, I declare. I am humbly waiting till
you deign to explain."
"I must do so, as your head has such a bad memory. What, sir, you are
but a foreigner, who had been but a little while in a strange land. In
this country, so soon as you landed, you met one man who displayed
some sympathy with you, and you have already forgotten him. Permit me
to remark, my dear cousin, that this offers but poor testimony to your
constancy."
"Crush me, cousin, I deserve all your reproaches. You are right; there
is really one man in Mexico for whom I feel a sincere friendship."
"Ah! Ah! Then I was not mistaken?"
"No; but I was so far from supposing that it was to him you alluded,
that I confess--"
"That you no longer remembered him, eh?"
"On the contrary, cousin; and it would be my most eager desire to see
him again."
"And what is this person's name?"
"He told me it was Oliver; still, I should not like to affirm that it
is really his name."
The young woman gave a meaning smile.
"Would it be indiscreet to ask you why you entertain this unfavourable
supposition?"
"Not at all, cousin; but señor Oliver appeared to me a very mysterious
gentleman; his manners are not those of everybody. As I think, there
would be nothing extraordinary if, according to circumstances--"
"He assumed a name," she interrupted. "Perhaps you are right--perhaps
you are wrong--I could not answer that question; all I can tell you is,
that he is the person who expects you."
"That is singular," the young man muttered.
"Why so? He has doubtless an important communication to make to you; at
least, so I understood."
"Did he tell you so?"
"Not precisely; but while conversing with me last night he displayed a
desire to see you as soon as possible; that is the reason, cousin, why
I asked you to accompany me on my ride."
This confession was made by the young lady in such simple faith that
the count was completely staggered by it, and looked at her for a
moment as if he did not comprehend her. Doña Dolores did not notice his
astonishment. With her hand placed as a screen over her eyes, she was
examining the plain.
"Ah," she said a moment after, pointing in a certain direction, "look
at those two men seated side by side in the shade of that clump of
trees; one of these is Oliver, the person who expects you. Let us hurry
on."
"Very good," Ludovic answered, spurring his horse.
And they galloped toward the two men, who, on perceiving them, had
risen to receive them.