THE CONFESSION.
General Soto-Mayor had been hurriedly raised by the volunteers, whom
the report of the two pistol shots had attracted to his room, a surgeon
attached to the reinforcing column was summoned, and hastened to dress
the old gentleman's frightful wounds. The terrible pain which the
scalping caused him, and the immense quantity of blood he had lost,
had plunged him into a profound fainting fit, from which it seemed
impossible for him to recover. Upwards of three hours passed before
he gave any signs of life. At length a faint sigh issued from his
oppressed chest: he made a slight movement, his eyes opened slightly,
and he muttered in a low and broken voice--
"Something to drink."
A servant brought him a bowl filled with a potion prepared by the
doctor.
"Oh!" he said, a moment after, "my head is burning; what frightful
pain!"
The surgeon begged him to be silent, administered a second potion, and
a few minutes after the patient's eyes closed. He had fallen asleep.
"That is what I wanted," the surgeon said, as he felt his pulse and
looked at him attentively.
"Well, doctor," an officer asked, "what do you think of the general's
state?"
"I cannot say anything about it yet, gentlemen," he answered,
addressing the persons who surrounded the old gentleman's bed; "his
wounds are very serious, and yet I do not believe them mortal. We
have numerous examples of scalped persons who have been perfectly
cured. Hence it is not the wound on the head that alarms me the most,
although it is the most painful. Tomorrow, as soon as I have removed
the bandages, I shall be able to tell you what we have to fear or hope.
Now, be kind enough to withdraw; thanks to the potion, the general is
enjoying a calm sleep, but the slightest noise might disturb him. I
will instal myself at his bedside, and not stir till he is either dead
or saved."
Upon this the doctor dismissed all the persons who filled the room,
drew an armchair up to the bed, sat down in it in the most comfortable
posture, took a book from his pocket, and prepared to spend the night
as well as he could in reading. The peons accompanying the general, on
seeing their master in so pitiable a state, unloaded the baggage and
carried it into the casa. Then each resumed possession of his lodging,
while congratulating himself in his heart at being no longer compelled
to expose himself to the dangers of war.
After the misfortune which occurred to the general, the officer who
took the command of the volunteers in his place sent out heavy patrols
in all directions in pursuit of the Indians; but their search had no
result, and they returned one after the other without discovering the
slightest sign which could put them on the track of the assassins. They
were, therefore, obliged to give up for the present all thoughts of
taking vengeance for the odious attack which had been committed on the
person of General Soto-Mayor.
Still this affair exerted a salutary influence over the mind of the
volunteers. At the sight of so terrible a fact as the one which
had just occurred, they understood how necessary prudence was when
engaged with enemies so invisible and formidable as the Indians. They,
therefore, began subjecting themselves to the claims of discipline. In
consequence, they ceased their cries and songs, and fulfilled their
military duties much more seriously than they had hitherto done.
The rest of the night passed away calmly and peaceably, and with the
exception of two or three false alarms which the sentries in their
inexperience gave, nothing happened to disturb the tranquillity of the
volunteers encamped under the walls of the Casa de Campos. At sunrise,
when the country illumined by the hot beams had lost the sinister and
gloomy aspect which darkness imparted to it, the Chilians, who, without
confessing it, had been in a state of real terror, gradually regained
courage and recommenced their gasconade, though it was moderated by the
recollections of the night.
At about eight in the morning the general woke up, and though he was
very low and his weakness was extreme, the long sleep which he had
enjoyed seemed to have greatly relieved his sufferings. The doctor,
after carefully counting his pulse, began removing the bandages which
he had placed. The appearance of the wounds was excellent; the flesh
offered no extraordinary signs of inflammation--in a word, the patient
was going on as well as could be expected. The wounds were washed,
fresh bandages put on, and another potion made the general fall back
almost immediately into the lethargic sleep from which he had roused
himself.
When midday came, the suppurating fever set in with great intensity.
The old man uttered inarticulate cries, made fearful efforts to leap
out of bed, and talked with extraordinary vivacity, making unconnected
remarks, whose meaning it was impossible to understand. The names
of Diego, of Tahi-Mari, and of the different members of his family
incessantly returned. The general was evidently suffering from some
horrible delirium aroused by the terrible scene of which he had been
the victim on the previous evening. Four powerful men were scarce
sufficient to keep him down in his bed.
From three to four o'clock in the afternoon an improvement took place;
the fever relaxed, the sick man's eyes lost that frightful stare and
expression of wildness which terrified his attendants. He recognised
his domestics, the doctor waiting on him, and even the officers who
surrounded him. Everything led to the hope that the general would be
saved; such at least was the opinion of the surgeon, who expressed it
loudly.
At about six o'clock, the officers whom the general had dispatched to
Santiago, returned to the country house, bearing the instructions of
the President of the Republic. The officer who commanded the expedition
in the general's place, opened and read them. They were formal.
The president gave orders to General Soto-Mayor to proceed by forced
marches on the capital, which was in the greatest peril: he added
that he could send him no officers, in spite of his urgent request,
and concluded by requesting the general to read the despatch to the
soldiers, in order to make them understand how much he reckoned on
their patriotism in answering the appeal of the menaced country.
The officer intrusted with the interim command obeyed the orders which
he received. He assembled the troops, read to them in a loud voice the
contents of the despatch, and made them a short speech, in which, while
exalting the powerful help which they might afford to the inhabitants
of Santiago, he asked whether he could really reckon on them. A
universal and enthusiastic outburst was the response to the general's
speech, and immediate preparations were made for the departure.
The commandant--who did not wish to abandon General Soto-Mayor
defencelessly in his house, which was open to all comers, and might at
any moment be invaded by the Indians--chose from among his volunteers
fifty men, to whom he entrusted the defence of the casa, after
exhorting them to behave properly, and placing them under the command
of an alférez. Then, this duty fulfilled, he took leave of the surgeon,
after recommending him to neglect nothing in restoring the general's
health, and took the road to Santiago at the head of his volunteers.
The night passed without any incidents worthy of record. The men
left in charge of the house had closed the gates and had entrenched
themselves in the interior. Toward morning they heard the sound of
a horse galloping at full speed. They had scarce time to notice the
rider, who departed rapidly, after halting for an instant before the
house. Some inarticulate sounds reached the ears of the sentries, but
before the latter could think of challenging, horse and rider were a
long distance off. It was Diego returning to Santiago with his victim.
The general's state was satisfactory; the fever had considerably
decreased, the wounds continued to offer the most favourable aspect,
and with the exception of the atrocious sufferings he felt in his head,
the old gentleman had regained a little calmness. Suddenly a loud sound
of horses was heard on the road, and a servant hastened into the sick
man's chamber, announcing that Captain Leon Delbès had just arrived,
and had important news to communicate to the general. The surgeon tried
to oppose the interview which Leon requested, alleging that his patient
needed absolute repose; but, on the repeated entreaties of the latter,
he was obliged to consent, though resolved to put a stop to it whenever
he thought it advisable.
The captain, as we know, had left Valparaíso in the company of Maria,
with the intention of proceeding under the escort of his band to
Santiago, where he expected to find the general. But, while passing
in front of the country house, he was astonished at seeing; the gates
open, and a picket of lanceros in the courtyard. Not knowing to what
to attribute the warlike appearance which this peaceful mansion had
assumed, he halted his band and went up to the gate for the purpose
of enquiring. The old manservant, who had been left as guardian, and
had admitted his master two days previously, was at this very moment
occupied in front of the house, and Leon questioned him.
The worthy man then told him in the fullest details the assassination
attempted on the person of his master, and the hopeless efforts which
had been made to discover the perpetrators. On listening to the
narrative, the captain trembled and guessed at once that Diego must
have passed that way. In truth he was the only man he knew capable
of committing a similar crime and surrounding it with such mystery.
Moreover, the project of vengeance which Diego nourished against the
Soto-Mayor family, sufficiently indicated him to Leon for the latter to
entertain no doubt as to his guilt.
Locking up in his bosom the feeling of horror which the half-breed's
deed inspired him with, the captain returned to Maria to announce to
her that her father, rather seriously wounded, was at the moment at
the Casa de Campos, and hence it was unnecessary to go farther, and if
she saw no inconvenience, he would at once place her in his hands. The
young lady who, in following Leon, had no other object but to join her
father and place herself under his protection, begged to be at once
led to him. But, on Leon remarking that her unexpected presence might
be fatal to the general, by causing him too lively an emotion, she
consented that Leon should warn him first.
The captain led his band into the courtyard, and then sent a footman
to the old gentleman to request an interview. When he entered the
general's bedroom, and found him lying on a bed of pain, with his head
wrapped up and his face more livid than that of a dying man, he felt
affected by the deepest compassion. It was in fact a melancholy sight
to see this old man, who had but a few days previously been so strong
and robust, now broken by suffering and lying there horribly mutilated.
"Señor Don Juan, it is I, Leon Delbès," he said, addressing the wounded
man.
The general offered him his left hand, and a smile played round his
bloodless lips.
"Have you any new misfortune to announce to me, captain?" the old man
said, in an almost unintelligible voice. "Speak--speak."
Leon started at the sound of this faint voice, and held his tongue,
not daring to tell an unhappy man who was on the brink of the grave of
the new misfortune which had fallen on him without his knowledge. The
general noticed the young man's agitation, and felt that he had guessed
aright.
"It concerns my daughters, does it not?"
"Yes, general," Leon replied, hanging his head sadly.
"Are they dead?" the old man asked, with a tremor in his voice.
The surgeon read in his face the nature of the feelings he was
undergoing, and seemed to fear the captain's answer, but the latter
hastened to speak.
"No, general, they are alive, and one of them accompanies me."
"But the other?"
"Is no longer in Valparaíso."
"What has happened, then, at the Convent of the Conception?--speak."
"It has been attacked, general."
"I understand," the old man said, "one of my daughters has fallen again
into the hands of the Indians--the name of her who is left me?"
"Doña Maria, general!"
"And it is again you who restore her to me, my friend. Thank you, and
Heaven grant that I may soon be able to reward you in the way you
deserve."
Leon gave a gesture of refusal.
"Oh! I know how a noble heart like yours should be rewarded."
Leon bowed and made no answer.
"But, for mercy's sake, tell me what you know with reference to Inez,
and do not be afraid of grieving me, for I am resigned to undergo all
the misfortunes which God may send me as an expiation for my sins."
The young man then told him of the rape of Maria's sister, while
carefully holding his tongue as to the circumstances under which he had
recovered the other young lady. Then he told him of his intention of
going to Santiago to find Diego, in whose power Inez was. On hearing
that it was Tahi-Mari, who had robbed him of his child, the general, in
spite of his courage, felt tears of grief bedew his eyes.
"O God!" he exclaimed, "punish me if I have offended you, and I will
bow my head beneath the punishment but will you allow this man, this
villain, to heap up crime upon crime, to strip me of what I hold the
dearest?"
There was a moment's silence, which the old gentleman was the first to
interrupt.
"My friend," he said to Leon, "you told me that Maria had been saved by
you, and yet I do not see her."
"She awaits your permission to present herself to you, general."
"Let her come--let her come!"
A peon was ordered to go and fetch Maria, who was kneeling in her
mother's room, and soon after, the maiden was standing before her
father; but on seeing the condition in which the murderer had left him,
she could only sob. The old man made a sign that he wished to embrace
her.
"My daughter," he said, after pressing his lips on the novice's virgin
forehead, "since the walls of a convent have not protected you from the
fury of my enemies, and I know not whether I shall ever see my other
children again, you will henceforth remain with me, if," he added,
"Heaven grant me the strength to live."
"Oh, thanks, father--thanks! for the convent is death, and I wish to
live to love and cherish you."
"What do you say?"
"Forgive me, father, but I suffered so deeply at being separated from
those whom I love."
"This is strange! and yet your sister Inez asked three days ago to
speak to me in private, and asked my permission to take the veil in
the Convent of the Conception, as she was determined not to marry Don
Sallazar, who loves her. I believed that it was you, child, who had
persuaded her to this."
"Oh, no!" Maria murmured.
The doctor, who had hitherto contented himself with displaying the
dissatisfaction which he felt on seeing the general fatigue himself
with talking, thought it prudent not to allow the interview to go on,
and made an observation to that effect.
"Thanks, doctor," said the general, "for the interest you take in my
cure."
"General," said Leon, "the doctor is right; my presence is no longer
necessary here. I will hasten to Santiago, and ere long I hope you
shall hear from me. Señora Doña Maria does not require my services
further, and so I will retire."
"Oh, father!" Maria could not refrain from saying, "if you only knew
how brave and generous he is!"
The general made no reply, and seemed to be reflecting.
"Doctor," he said, suddenly addressing the surgeon, "you must arrange
some plan for transporting me to Santiago."
"What are you thinking of, general?" the other exclaimed, falling back
a couple of steps, so great was his surprise; "it is impossible."
"And yet it must be," the old man remarked calmly. "If my son is still
alive, he is at Santiago with General Don Sallazar; I wish to see them."
"What?" said Leon.
"Once again, it is impossible," remarked the doctor, who was grieved to
see the obstinacy with which his patient supported his resolve.
"You, Captain Leon," Don Juan continued, "will go on ahead, since you
still offer me your assistance, which has been so precious to me; we
shall meet at my cousin's, Senator Don Henriquez de Castago."
"But, general?"
"But, doctor, you will do whatever you like; have a litter made, or
invent any mode of transport that you please, for I intend to go to
Santiago with my daughter Maria, even if I die on arriving."
"At least, wait a week."
"It is your opinion that I cannot be removed today?"
"Most certainly."
"Well, I will wait till the day after tomorrow; between this and then
prepare all that you want, and do not trouble yourself about the rest.
If an accident happens to me, the blame will rest on myself alone."
"General!"
"I have spoken, and I warn you that, if you do not consent, I shall
blow out my brains, or rather tear off my bandages, and die here."
And the old gentleman prepared to suit the action to the word.
"Stay!" exclaimed the surgeon, who found himself compelled to yield, "I
will act in accordance with your wishes."
"Very good," the general replied; "and now I will try to take some
rest, for my strength is exhausted, I feel."
Leon prepared to bid farewell to the general, and leave the country
house.
"Good-bye, my friend," the patient murmured; "in two days we shall
meet again, or, if not, it is to you--you alone--I confine the care of
guarding Maria. Go, and may Heaven aid you to find Inez."
Leon bent his knee before the old man.
"Sir," he said to him, with profound emotion, "my life and heart belong
to you; take one and break the other if you like, for I can no longer
conceal from you the secret that devours me--I love your daughter, Doña
Maria."
"Father, father!" Maria also exclaimed, as she fell on her knees by the
side of the general's bed; "forgive me, for I love him in return."
As his sole answer, Don Juan de Soto-Mayor held out his hand to the
young people, who covered it with kisses and burning tears. A glance of
ineffable happiness was exchanged between the smuggler and the novice.
"Now I am strong," Leon exclaimed, as he rose. "You shall be avenged,
Don Juan."
And he rushed out of the house. In a second, all his men were ready to
start.
"Companions!" he shouted, as he leaped on the back of his mustang, "to
Santiago at full gallop!"
A whirlwind of dust rose, enveloping men and horses, who disappeared on
the horizon. Two days later, a young lady on horseback was riding by
the side of a litter carried by two mules, in which lay an old man, and
a military surgeon and fifty lanceros escorted them. They were Maria de
Soto-Mayor, the general her father, and the doctor, who were proceeding
to Santiago.