The peculiar spectacle thus witnessed for a while distracted my thoughts
from the marquee and its occupants.
Only for a short while. Soon again the lovely face of Lola rose up
before the eye of my imagination; and the longing to look upon it became
stronger than ever.
Yielding to this fascination--for which I could scarcely account--I
strolled back to the _ci-devant_ head-quarters of the Mexican
commander-in-chief.
On arriving in front of the entrance I paused.
Had the invalid been still asleep, I might have hesitated about
disturbing him. But his voice warned me that he was awake, and in
conversation with some one--who, of course, could be no other than Lola.
Even then I hesitated about going in; but while thus meditating, I could
not help overhearing a portion of the dialogue that was passing between
them. A name already known was on the lips of Calros, from which I
could easily divine the subject of their conversation. It was the name
of Ramon Rayas.
"Yes, dearest Lola," said the invalid, as if replying to some
interrogatory, "it was that villain. Not content with persecuting you
with his infamous proposals, he has followed me, even to the field of
battle? He would have killed me outright. _Carrambo_! I thought he
had done so. I saw him standing over me with his _machete_ pointed at
my breast. I was too weak to make resistance. I could not raise a hand
to parry his thrust. He did not strike. I know not why. There was a
shot; and then I saw him standing over me again, with a pistol, its
muzzle held close to my body. _Valga me Dios_! I saw no more. I
became unconscious."
"Dear Calros! it was not Rayas who held the pistol."
"Not him!--not Ramon Rayas. It _was_, Lola. I saw him. I heard and
talked to him. I listened to his threats. He wanted me to tell him--
Oh! too surely was it he--he, and no other."
"Yes, he who threatened you with the _machete_. That's true enough; but
the man who held the pistol--that was not Don Ramon; not an enemy
either, though I also thought him one."
"And who was it?" asked the invalid, with a puzzled look upon his
countenance.
"The _Americano_--he who has had you carried here into the tent."
"Which of them? There were several around me. Was it the _medico_ who
dressed my wound? He must be a doctor to have done it so skilfully."
"No, it was not he."
"Which, then, Lola?"
"You saw an officer among them, did you not?--a handsome young officer?"
My heart then thrilled with a pleasant emotion. I bent my eyes with
keen scrutiny upon the face of the invalid. I expected to see there an
expression denoting jealousy. I thought it strange that no such thought
could be detected on the features of Calros Vergara.
"He must be brave, too," continued the girl, "to have conquered the
Capitan Rayas."
"Conquered Rayas! How? What mean you, Lola?"
"You see those spots of blood on your shirt-bosom? There were others on
your face, but I have washed them off. I thought it was yours, Calros."
"And is it not?"
"No. This is fresh blood, as you may tell by looking at it. It is not
yet quite dried. Thanks to the holy Virgin, it is not yours; to lose
more would have killed you, Calros; the _medico_ said so."
"_Carrambo_! whose is it then?"
"Don Ramon's."
"How? Tell me, Lola!"
"You say he was threatening to run you through with his _machete_. You
heard a shot? It was not Ramon, but the young officer, who fired it;
and the bullet was aimed at Rayas himself, and not at you. It must have
hit him, for his _machete_ was found beside you, the hilt stained with
blood; and these drops must have come from the wound he received. Ah!
_dear brother Calros_! but for this brave Americano you would now have
been in another world, and I left in this, alone, and without a
protector."
_Brother_ Calros!
A load seemed lifted from my heart; the arrow, so lately entering it,
and already beginning to rankle, appeared to be suddenly plucked from it
without causing pain.
_Brother_ Calros!
No longer did I wonder at the stoical indifference with which the
Jarocho had listened to that flattering eulogy bestowed upon myself.
"No, Lola Vergara"--for that should be her name--"No! Never in this
world, so long as _I_ live, shall you, beautiful Jarocha, be without a
protector!"
That was my thought, my mental resolution. I could scarcely restrain
myself from rushing into the tent, and proclaiming it aloud!
Story 1, Chapter IX.