"I want you to be ready, but to do nothing till I give you the signal.

Now listen. You say they have placed confidence in you by telling you of

their sorrows, I am going to put more confidence yet in you, for I am

going to tell you my reasons of which they know nothing. You think that

it is the Viceroy who has put Marcelino into prison, and you are ready

to shout 'Down with the Viceroy!'"

"And so is every Spaniard."

"And yet you know that the Viceroy and Marcelino have always been the

best of friends. There is a conspiracy on foot. There are men here who

dream of a republic. They have tried to implicate Marcelino, and make

him one of their leaders. He is rash and hot-headed as you know. The

Viceroy has put him in prison until the danger has passed over, then he

will let him go, and the real culprits will take his place. In this

Marshal Liniers has shown himself a true friend to Marcelino."

"I know that there is some conspiracy, but I understood that we were to

put down this Frenchman and name a Junta, as has been done in Monte

Video."

"That they say to deceive you. While the troops remain faithful to the

Viceroy these rebels can do nothing. The first step is to excite the

troops to mutiny against the Viceroy. If they are successful all is

lost, and we shall have a government of the Lord knows who."

"And Don Marcelino knows of this?"

"He does. Don Roderigo pretends to be angry at his arrest, but he is

well content that he should be out of this conspiracy. Who has more

influence with Marshal Liniers than Don Roderigo? One word from him and

Liniers would set Marcelino at liberty, for as yet he has taken no part

in the conspiracy, and is quite innocent. The Viceroy expected to find

some clue to the conspiracy among his papers, but I believe nothing has

been found, and he would be set free to-morrow if Don Roderigo wished

it. Now what I want you to do is to take care that these revolutionists

do not tamper with your men, and when the Viceroy calls upon you, join

him at once with all your battalion, then you can demand the liberty of

my nephew, and all of us will thank you for the great service you have

done."

"But, Señora, it may be days yet before they attempt this rebellion.

What will the Señorita Dolores say if all these days I do nothing?"

"Dolores herself shall thank you; I will tell her what you have done for

her sake."

"Why does not the Viceroy arrest the conspirators if he knows of the

conspiracy?"

"As yet he knows but little. He wants to make sure of the leaders before

he arrests any of them."

"I could put my hand upon one of them to-day," said Asneiros fiercely;

"and here he comes," he added, in a low tone, as Don Carlos Evaña

entered the sala.

Behind Evaña came Don Fausto Velasquez, who saluted the infantry captain

with great cordiality, but Evaña, merely bestowing upon him a nod of

recognition, seated himself beside Doña Josefina. Soon after, others

dropped in. Among them came Don Juan Martin Puyrredon and his sister

Doña Juana, the Señora de Sañez-Valiente, a tall, stately lady of very

affable manners, who was an intimate friend of Doña Josefina. With her

also came a younger sister, shorter in stature than Doña Juana, with

large, dark eyes, luxuriant hair, brilliant complexion, and a face and

figure said at that time to be unrivalled for beauty even in Buenos

Aires, Elisa Puyrredon.

Among these, Asneiros would have felt himself strangely out of place,

but Doña Josefina watched over him, and exerted herself so successfully

to set him at ease, encouraging him to talk, that when, after a couple

of hours, he rose to go, he felt as though he had never passed so

pleasant an evening in his life, and was resolved that come what might

he would let himself be guided by Doña Josefina, though he was too

astute to believe all that she had told him concerning the conspiracy

against the Viceroy.

Doña Josefina accompanied him to the patio as he went out, and said to

him:

"Pass by my window every evening at sundown, I will call you in if I

have anything to say to you. When you have anything to tell me come at

any hour."

"What it is to give oneself to politics," said Elisa Puyrredon, as Doña

Josefina returned to the sala. "Have you many paroquets like that to

show us, Doña Josefina?"

"Picara!" said Doña Josefina; "this Asneiros was the Lieutenant of the

'Morenos de Ponce.'"

"I did not know that," said Elisa. "And this poor Marcelino, when will

they let him go?"

"That is just what this Asneiros came to ask me," replied Doña Josefina.

"Asneiros makes no secret of his wish to break open the prison-door

himself at the head of a party of grenadiers," said Don Juan Martin.

"Why does he not do it then?" asked Elisa.

"He would do badly to do so," said Don Fausto.

* * * * *

Every day for more than a week Asneiros strolled at sundown past the

window of Doña Josefina Viana, every day he found her sitting there

watching for him. Sometimes she would rise from her seat and, leaning

against the reja, would stand there for some minutes talking with him;

sometimes she would invite him in, when if alone together she would

listen in patience to his praises of Dolores and encourage him to think

that he alone should have the credit of the release of Marcelino from

prison; while every evening he had something to tell her of the progress

he had made in re-establishing the waning popularity of Marshal Liniers,

not only in his own regiment, but also in the artillery corps which was

supposed to be completely under the influence of Don Martin Alzaga.

So the days passed over till the morning of the 31st December, when he

called at the house, and being admitted at once, was shown into the

sewing-room of Doña Josefina, where she never received any but her most

confidential friend. Nearly an hour he remained there talking with her,

being on this occasion dressed in uniform, and speaking in a sharp,

decisive manner which Doña Josefina had never before observed in him.

"Señora," said he, as he withdrew, "I know not whether you have been

deceived, but I will delay no longer, and if Don Marcelino is not out of

prison by this hour to-morrow I myself will head a mutiny against the

Viceroy, in which case I can assure you that the whole of the garrison

of the city will join me."

When he had gone Doña Josefina sat for some minutes very thoughtful,

apparently far from pleased with the result of the interview till with a

start she exclaimed:

"To-morrow! that is the new year. It is done, he will be too late; now

Carlos will acknowledge that I also have done something for the Patria."

Half an hour later Don Carlos Evaña was with her, summoned to a

consultation by an urgent message.

* * * * *

Meantime, while Marcelino's friends were thus interesting themselves in

his fate, there was one who was dearer to him than any other who spoke

of him not at all, but who thought of him every hour in the day, and

wept for him and prayed for him in the solitude of her own room at

night. A young girl who lived in great quiet with her father at his

quinta at the Miserere. To her parent she had spoken of him, but he had

chid her roughly, telling her that doubtless he deserved his punishment,

and that she was not to speak of him any more. On one Wednesday only

during this time had she paid her usual visit to Doña Josefina, who had

laughed at her when she had timidly asked news of Marcelino, saying:

"What matters it to you?"

But as she sat sewing in Doña Josefina's own room there came in another

lady, young and of radiant beauty, who spoke much of Marcelino, and to

her Doña Josefina talked unreservedly, and spoke confidently of his

speedy release. When she had gone:

"What think you of my friend Elisa?" said Doña Josefina; "Lola is very

fond of her, but you and she seem hardly ever to speak to each other."

"She is very beautiful," replied Magdalen.

"Marcelino says she is the most beautiful girl in Buenos Aires," said

the elder lady; "and he also so handsome. They are well matched, I do

not know why they delay so long; Marcelino wants to amuse himself a

little longer, I suppose, young men are like that, and Elisa is not

impatient, but if I were she, I should be jealous."

After this there was yet one Wednesday in December, but Magdalen told

her father that she had a headache and would not visit the city that

day.

* * * * *

During the last days of December there was much excitement throughout

the city. Spaniards openly exulted in the speedy downfall of the

Viceroy, under whose rule their monopoly of power was slowly but

steadily slipping away from them. Quiet citizens, who troubled not their

heads about politics, were tormented by vague apprehensions for which

they could give no reason. Argentines of all ranks and ages, who had

learned during the past two years to look upon their country as their

own, fiercely determined that come what might, the leader they had

chosen for themselves should not be thrust from his position if he would

but call upon them for support.

Two men only fully appreciated the danger of the crisis, Don Roderigo

Ponce de Leon and Don Carlos Evaña; each of these in his own way

prepared to meet it.

On the morning of the 27th December, Don Carlos Evaña called his servant

into his private room, and after a short conversation with him took up a

sealed letter from his writing-table, which he gave to him. This letter

was addressed:

Al Señor Coronel

Don Gregorio Lopez,

Comandante de los Dragones de Las Barrancas,

Su Estancia.

"Now away you go," said Don Carlos, "and neither rest nor sleep till you

have delivered that letter."

"Before sunrise to-morrow he shall have it, Señor Don Carlos," replied

the man.

On the morning of the 31st December, Colonel Lopez arrived at the Quinta

de Ponce; he was dressed in uniform, and had two orderlies with him. He

listened to all that Doña Constancia and Dolores had to tell him, but

was very taciturn himself, and they were somewhat hurt at the small

sympathy he expressed for his nephew in his imprisonment.

At sundown Evaristo reached the quinta, saying that Don Roderigo was

not coming out that day and that he himself was to remain there till

Monday.

"We shall have plenty of room for you to-night, Gregorio," said Doña

Constancia. "We have generally a house full on a Saturday evening, but

it appears we are to have no visitors this week. Even Don Carlos has not

been out to see us since he came in from his estancia."

"I shall not stop the night here," replied Don Gregorio; "I am going on

after dark."

At ten o'clock Don Gregorio was still there, though he had ordered his

horse to be saddled. They were seated under the verandah, looking out

into the quiet night, talking little, for each one had his or her own

thoughts, and none of these thoughts were cheerful. Evaristo was the

most talkative, and his talk was of his brother or of the Viceroy

Marshal Liniers, and of whichever he spoke his words were words of

anger. Suddenly he started to his feet.

"Hush!" he said. "Listen! who are these that come at this hour of the

night?"

They stepped out into the garden, and from the south, through the thick

foliage of the trees, and near at hand, there came the sound of the

trampling of hoofs as of a multitude of horses at a quiet trot. Mingled

with this sound came the jingling of sabres in steel scabbards, and the

hum of many voices.

"Who are those, Gregorio?" said Doña Constancia, as a gruff voice

shouted "halt," and the trampling and the jingling ceased. "They have

stopped at the tranquera."

"They are my dragoons," replied the Colonel, "Sleep tranquil, Marcelino

will not be many hours longer in prison."

"My God!" exclaimed Doña Constancia, clasping her hands; "what is it

that you are going to do?"

"Who sent for you?" asked Dolores.

"Evaña," replied the Colonel; then kissing both of them he looked round

to bid good-night to his nephew, but Evaristo was not to be seen.

Five minutes later Don Gregorio Lopez, at the head of a well-appointed

squadron of dragoons, trotted down the road past the quinta gate, where

Doña Constancia and Dolores stood watching them in silence. Beside him

rode one who was not in uniform and carried no arms; this horseman, who

was but a youth, turned in his saddle as they passed the gate and

shouted:

"Good-night, mamita! good-night, Lola! to-morrow I will come back with

Marcelino."

CHAPTER VII

THE 1ST JANUARY, 1809

It seems to be a very old custom in Spanish-speaking countries to hold

elections on the first day of the week, the day set apart by all

Christian people as a day of rest. In these countries the right of all

free-born men to choose their own rulers is not considered to be work,

it is looked upon more as an amusement; the consequences of so looking

upon one of the most important duties of a citizen are frequently

disastrous.

This day, Sunday, the 1st January, 1809, was the day appointed for the

election of the municipal officers of the city. The citizens of Buenos

Aires on this occasion made no claim whatever to be admitted to some

share in the election, being content that these officials should be

selected, as they always had been, by the Cabildo, their attention being

entirely engrossed by a subject to them much more momentous.

At sunrise on this Sunday morning the whole city was astir. Steady-going

householders donned their uniforms and marched off to the barracks of

the several militia corps, the Patricios and Arribeños. Shopmen,

artificers, and peons left their homes all with one destination. Ardent

young patriots of the more wealthy families buckled on their swords and

proceeded to the headquarters of their regiments. All were animated by

one enthusiastic determination--to suppress by force, if necessary, any

attempt against the authority of the Viceroy they themselves had chosen.

All looked to Don Cornelio Saavedra as their leader.

At the same time, to the west of the city, on the wide, open space known

as the Plaza Miserere, the suburban cavalry, composed of the butchers

and quinteros who supplied the city markets, assembled under the orders

of Don Martin Rodriguez, who had with him Don Juan Ramon Balcarce as his

second in command. Most of these men had taken part in the defence of

the city against Whitelock, the name of General Liniers was to them as a

tower of strength.

The dragoons from Las Barrancas had passed the night encamped near to

the Puente Galves, at dawn Don Carlos Evaña was with them. Calling the

officers together he spoke earnestly to them, commending the appearance

of the men and the condition of their horses, telling them that they had

not been sent for without deep necessity, that their country had need of

them, and looked to them to vindicate her rights against the domination

of foreigners.

"Have no fear, Don Carlos," said Don Gregorio. "My men will do their

duty."

"What you or Don Cornelio Saavedra tell us, that we will do," said the

others.

Among these dragoons there was one troop which excelled in efficiency

and appearance, the horses all of one colour, dark bays, the men most of

them of one family, brothers, cousins, or nephews of the wife of Don

Francisco Viana. This troop was under the command of Venceslao Viana,

all the horses were the property of Don Carlos Evaña. After speaking to

the officers, Don Carlos addressed himself to the men of this troop,

speaking to them one by one, and asking after their families, then he

drew Venceslao Viana to one side and spoke to him alone. As Venceslao

listened, his face showed signs of great perplexity.

"Without orders from the Colonel?" asked he.

"More than a year ago you promised me----"

"Say no more," said Venceslao; "ask for no reasons. Give me the signal,

and I see no other chief than you."

"If all goes well I shall not give it, then you have nothing to do but

to obey the Colonel. But remember, if to-day pass without bloodshed

everything is to begin again."

"Decidedly this Don Carlos is a man of few scruples," said Venceslao to

himself as Evaña galloped away for the city. "But if he says it, it must

be done; by the faith of a Viana, to-day we will do for him some

service."

Soon after sunrise the trumpets sounded to saddle and mount, and

defiling over the Puente Galves, the regiment marched by the wide, sandy

road to the city, passed the suburbs, and halted on an open space of

ground near to the Residencia.

The Spanish troops were also early under arms, each corps in its own

barracks, among them also there was much enthusiasm. In every quarter of

the city armed men were collected together, and peaceably-disposed

citizens shut themselves in their houses, fearful that the day would not

pass without some great catastrophe.

At an early hour the members of the Cabildo met together, and were not

long in deciding upon the list of municipal officers for the ensuing

year. Having drawn up this list, a deputation from them, headed by Don

Martin Alzaga, proceeded across the Plaza Mayor and the Plaza de Los

Perdices to the fort, where they presented this list to the Viceroy. Few

words passed between them and the deputation retired. In both Plazas

hundreds of the citizens were walking to and fro, or stood conversing in

groups, all anxiously waiting for what the day might bring forth. As the

deputation left the fort after their interview with the Viceroy, passing

through these groups of men, who gazed upon them in silence as though

they would read their purpose in their faces, several of these Spaniards

took off their hats, waving them in the air and shouting:

"Junta! Junta! como la de la España! Abajo el Frances Liniers!"[9]

Among the people this shout found no echo. Then began the church-bells

to clang and the drums to beat to arms in the streets. Three corps of

the Spanish troops left their quarters with their arms and ammunition,

and marching hurriedly to the Plaza Mayor drew up on the west side the

Plaza with their backs to the Cabildo, shouting as their leaders had

already instructed them:

"Junta! Junta! como la de la España! Abajo el Frances Liniers!"

As the bells rang out their peal, Marshal Liniers sent off a messenger

to Don Cornelio Saavedra requesting him to garrison the fort. As the

Spanish troops entered the Plaza Mayor, the first battalion of the

Patricios marched through the Plaza de Los Perdices, crossed the

drawbridge of the fort, and occupied all the defences of this

stronghold. At the same time Don Carlos Evaña, with a drawn sabre in his

hand, at the head of a strong party of armed citizens, entered the fort

by a postern gate, and placed himself and his followers at the orders of

the Viceroy.

Marshal Liniers in full uniform stood at the foot of the flag-staff on

the parade-ground, looking anxiously out towards the city, listening to

the clangour of the bells and the shouts of the troops in the further

Plaza, when a Spanish officer in uniform and with his sword in its

sheath stood before him and saluted him.

"Asneiros! you here!" said Marshal Liniers.

"Yes, your Excellency," replied Asneiros, "I am here; my Andaluces are

also close at hand, the Spanish artillery have not left their barracks.

It appears that there is some conspiracy against you; I, my Andaluces,

and the Spanish artillery all put ourselves under your orders if you

grant me at once a favour that I require of you."

"Speak," said Marshal Liniers.

"You have imprisoned an honourable gentleman, Don Marcelino Ponce de

Leon; I demand his immediate release."

"He is in the Cabildo," replied Marshal Liniers. "If to-day at sundown I

am Viceroy I will set him free."

"A thousand thanks, your Excellency; not to-day only, but many days you

will yet see yourself Viceroy."

Then as he turned away Asneiros looked around him, and his eye fell upon

Evaña, who, with his drawn sabre in his hand, was talking eagerly with a

number of militia officers.

"He here and armed!" said Asneiros to himself; "he then is not of the

conspiracy. Fool that I am, I have let myself be deceived by the soft

voice of a woman. But it is not too late yet; if I go and shout for the

Junta over there Don Martin will set him free for me."

But as he crossed the drawbridge, and looked to where he had left his

men, he saw a mounted officer sitting in his saddle in front of them

speaking to them. As he ceased, the men took off their round caps and

tossed them in the air shouting:

"Viva Don Cornelio!" Then as Don Cornelio, raising his hand for silence,

again spoke, they shouted even louder than before:

"Viva el Virey Don Santiago Liniers! Viva!!"

It was too late; to turn back now was impossible; he had nothing left to

do but to follow the lead of Don Cornelio and to trust to the Viceroy.

During all this excitement one man stood quietly on the balcony of the

Cabildo, watching everything, but since the selection of the municipal

officers taking no part in anything, Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon. From

his position he could see the sheen of the bayonets as the Patricios

marched into the fort; he looked down into the Plaza below him upon the

troops there assembled, he noted at once the absence of the artillery

corps and of the Andaluces. None of his colleagues were with him, they

had proceeded from the fort to the house of the Bishop of Buenos Aires,

Monseñor Lue, who, with Don Martin Alzaga, was at the head of the

conspiracy against the Viceroy. Unless some measures were immediately

adopted to allay the excitement a struggle seemed inevitable; to this

struggle Don Roderigo could see but one end, the total overthrow of

Spanish authority. Hastily he descended from the balcony and walked to

the house of the Bishop. His report considerably damped the enthusiasm

of the conspirators; the Bishop consented to go alone to the fort to

endeavour to prevail upon the Viceroy to dismiss the militia to their

homes.

"Promise him anything," said Don Roderigo; but Don Martin Alzaga saw him

depart without speaking, and with the rest of the conclave returned to

the Cabildo.

As the Bishop presented himself to Marshal Liniers he was confronted by

Don Cornelio Saavedra, and between these two there ensued a hot

discussion. The Bishop protested that his only wish was to prevent

bloodshed, and promised that if the Patricios would retire, the Spanish

troops in the Plaza Mayor should be sent back to their barracks. To him

Liniers seemed disposed to yield whereupon Don Cornelio, still

protesting against any attempt on the part of the Spaniards to depose

the Viceroy, consented to retire from the fort with his troops, but

declared that he should keep them under arms until such time as the

Spanish troops had evacuated the Plaza Mayor.

Out over the drawbridge marched the Patricios in perfect order, the sun

shining on the bright barrels of their muskets and upon their glistening

bayonets. In one long column they crossed the Plaza de los Perdices,

passed through the wide arch of the Recoba Vieja, and in imposing array

marched straight for the artillery barracks, where the chosen Spaniards

of Don Martin Alzaga joined them with acclamations, and with loud shouts

of:

"Viva Don Santiago Liniers! Viva el Virey!"

Then came the second battalion of the Patricios, the "Pardos y Morenos,"

and the Arribeño regiment. Mounted messengers were despatched at speed

to the Residencia and to the Plaza Miserere. The swarthy troopers, tired

with long waiting in the hot summer sun, received the summons with joy,

and noon was not long passed ere Don Cornelio Saavedra found himself at

the head of a force nearly double in number to the entire force the

Spaniards could bring against him, even should the Andaluz regiment,

which remained under arms in the Plaza de los Perdices, ultimately

declare for them.

Meantime Don Martin Alzaga and his colleagues save one (Don Roderigo

Ponce de Leon held himself aloof from them), determined upon a direct

appeal to the people. Again the bells rang out their clang of alarm, and

the royal flag of Spain, brought out from its seclusion, was displayed

on the balcony of the Cabildo. Vain hope to excite loyalty to Spain in

the breasts of men who already knew that they were Argentines. Few

citizens responded to the appeal. Don Martin had none upon whom he could

depend save upon those three Spanish infantry corps which were still

drawn up in the Plaza Mayor, underneath the balcony on which waved the

proud flag of Spain, the symbol of the conquest.

Yet one other course was open to him. Sundry citizens who were

well-affected to their Spanish rulers were summoned to the Cabildo, and

incorporated with that august body, thus forming what was called in

those days a "Cabildo Abierto," a corporation in which both Spaniards

and Argentines were represented, and which might be thus supposed to

embody the wishes of the people.

Then a deed of resignation was drawn up, by which the Viceroy resigned

his office and authorised the formation of a Junta, in which his powers

should be invested. With this deed the whole of the members of the

Cabildo, both Spaniards and Argentines, with the exception of that one

man who still held aloof, crossed over to the fort and presented it to

the Viceroy, notifying him that it was the will of the people that he

should resign his office.

Liniers looked around him in surprise. All the ruling corporations of

the city were represented in this group of men who presented this deed

to him for signature. Among them were also several well-known citizens,

Argentines by birth, and men of influence among their fellow-countrymen.

It seemed to him that the voice of the people called upon him to resign;

he took his pen and signed the document.

As Liniers gave his assent, and ere he had yet signed the deed of

abdication, a messenger was sent across the two Plazas to the Cabildo,

to the Spaniards who had remained there, telling them that their cause

was won. Eager hands seized upon the flag of Spain, waving it

triumphantly; eager voices shouted the pæan of victory, yet still Don

Roderigo Ponce de Leon held aloof, leaning on the rails of the balcony

and gazing out upon the Plaza, watching ever, but neither by voice nor

sign showing that he had any part in the triumph.

Then from the Calle Defensa, memorable for the repulse and capture of

General Crauford on the 5th July, 1807, issued into the open Plaza the

firm array of the citizen soldiers of Buenos Aires, with their trusted

leader, Don Cornelio Saavedra at their head. First came the Patricios,

who ever claimed the post of danger, the post of honour; then came the

Arribeños, the artillery, the Pardos y Morenos and the Andaluces, who

had last of all made up their minds to join the ranks of the patriots.

The infantry with bayonets fixed, the artillery bringing their cannon

with them, the gunners marching with the matches lighted in their hands.

These drew up on the east side the Plaza in dense ranks, with the Recoba

Vieja behind them, facing towards the Cabildo, where the three Spanish

corps ceased their cries and jubilation as they gazed upon the

formidable array so unexpectedly marshalled against them.

Behind the infantry and artillery there came yet two other corps, two

squadrons of cavalry, the hussars of Don Martin Rodriguez, and the

dragoons from Las Barrancas, dark-featured, long-haired men, who sat

their horses as though they were parts of them, and whose bright sabres

were held by brawny hands, wielding them as though they were toys. These

two squadrons of cavalry, with the Andaluces, were drawn up behind the

Recoba in reserve, but at the cross streets and at the central arch,

spaces were left in the long line of infantry through which the cavalry

might advance were there occasion for their services.

When all his arrangements were complete, Don Cornelio Saavedra glanced

proudly over the serried files of men who obeyed his word, glanced

indignantly across the Plaza at the troops still there in spite of the

promise given him by the Bishop, then, deputing the command to Major

Viamont, away he galloped to the fort. Followed by a group of his

principal officers, he walked into the saloon of audience, in which the

deed of resignation had just been signed.

The assembled grandees were struck mute at this unexpected intrusion.

Monseñor Lue was the first to speak; turning to Saavedra he said--

"Thanks be to God, all is finished. His excellency loves the people, and

does not desire that there be bloodshed for his sake. He has agreed to

abdicate."

"Who has given his Excellency the power to resign the command legally

conferred upon him?" asked Saavedra in reply.

"Señor Comandante," replied the Bishop, in a supplicating tone, "do you

wish to involve this people in blood?"

"Neither I nor my comrades," answered the Commandant of the Patricios,

"have caused this revolution. I have said, and I repeat it, that there

is no cause for this violence."

Then hearing the Bishop say that it was the will of the people that the

Viceroy should resign, Saavedra interrupted him, saying--

"That is a falsehood. In proof of it, let the Señor Liniers come with

us, let him present himself to the people; if the people refuse him, and

will not that he continue in command, then I and my comrades will sign

the deed of abdication."

Then he and Don Martin Rodriguez took the Viceroy by the arm, saying to

him--

"Descend with us, your Excellency, and hear from the mouth of the people

what is their will."

It was already sunset when Liniers, surrounded by Argentine citizens and

officers of the militia, crossed the drawbridge of the fort. The Plaza

de los Perdices was full of people, beyond them were drawn up the dense

ranks of the native troops. From all these there burst loud cheers and

shouts of "Viva Don Santiago Liniers! We will have no other to rule over

us."[10]

Negro slaves, tearing off their clothes, strewed them on the ground

before the Viceroy as he walked forth, so that he might not soil his

feet with the dust. Behind this group came the discomfited members of

the Cabildo, among whom walked the secretary of the Cabildo, carrying in

his hand the deed of abdication. As he crossed the drawbridge, Don

Carlos Evaña, who was close to Liniers, turned back, ran to the

secretary, and snatching the deed from him tore it into pieces, and

threw the fragments contemptuously into the air, at which sight the

exultant populace burst out again with shouts of triumph.

Meanwhile, at the first shouts of the people, the Spanish officers in

the further Plaza gave orders to their men to load with ball cartridge.

Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, who still stood on the balcony of the

Cabildo, heard the order given. Descending at once to the Plaza, he ran

along the front of the line of soldiers, shouting--

"To your barracks, Gallegos and Viscainos! To your barracks, Catalanes!"

At the same time an aide-de-camp from Marshal Liniers came to them with

an order from the Viceroy to lay down their arms. Contradictory orders

of all sorts were given by the officers, all was confusion; some of the

men wheeled round and marched away, others grasped their muskets and

glared defiance across the Plaza at the steady ranks of the citizen

soldiers drawn up in defiant array in front of them.

At this moment Don Carlos Evaña, standing under the arch of the Recoba,

shouted to the cavalry sitting motionless on their horses, with sabres

drawn in the Plaza de los Perdices--

"To me, muchachos! now is the moment!" at the same time pointing with

his sabre to the confused groups of soldiery who occupied the far side

of the Plaza Mayor.

"Follow me, muchachos!" shouted Venceslao Viana, driving in his spurs

and dashing at full speed through the arch of the Recoba.

His troop followed him pell-mell, and the rest of the cavalry, supposing

that some order had been given, charged through every opening into the

Plaza Mayor.

Don Roderigo ran frantically along the ranks of the Spanish infantry

tearing the muskets from the hands of the men and shouting--

"To your barracks! to your barracks! Españoles!"

All was confusion and wild panic; the Spaniards broke their ranks, and

in headlong flight ran off up the streets abutting on the west side of

the Plaza, throwing away their arms, many of them seeking refuge in the

open doorways of the houses as they passed. After them came the fierce

horsemen of the Pampas, striking at them furiously with their sabres,

trampling them underfoot if they made any attempt to resist. Few of them

reached their barracks, all over the city they were dispersed, and the

power of Spain was broken for ever in Buenos Aires.

Then the royal flag of Spain, which had fluttered so proudly all the

afternoon on the balcony of the Cabildo, was withdrawn, never more to

see the light as an emblem of conquest and subjugation; when again it

was brought forth it was to grace some festival of a free people.

As the horsemen poured tumultuously into the Plaza, the native infantry

looked eagerly to Don Cornelio for a signal, but Don Cornelio riding

along the line called upon them to ground arms and not to move; all

obeyed, watching in silence the discomfiture of their enemies, except a

small party on the left flank where the "Pardos y Morenos" were

stationed.

During the whole day a slim youth of small stature, who by his dress

evidently belonged to one of the principal families of the city, had

hovered about under the arcade of the Recoba Nueva, absent occasionally

for a short time while the patriot troops were concentrating under the

orders of Don Cornelio Saavedra, returning with them to the Plaza, and

resuming his former station under the arcade. As the horsemen dashed

through the arch of the Recoba Vieja this youth ran towards the "Pardos

y Morenos," waving his hat and shouting--

"Now, Morenitos! now!"

About a score of negroes obeyed his call, left their ranks, and, mingled

with the horsemen, rushed across the Plaza straight for the main

entrance to the Cabildo. The wide gateway and the courtyard beyond were

crowded with panic-stricken soldiery, whose terror the sudden rush of

the negroes yet further increased so that they fled before their

levelled bayonets and left the way open to the main staircase. Up this

staircase the youth, who was Evaristo Ponce de Leon, led the way towards

a corridor where a sentry stood on guard.

"Back! back!" shouted Evaristo to this man as he levelled his musket.

The negroes crowding up behind him gave a fierce yell; he dropped his

weapon and fled.

"The key!" shouted Evaristo after him as he ran.

"The key!" said a stalwart negro, "I have key sufficient." And seizing

the barrel of his musket with both hands he struck the side panel of the

door as strongly as he could with the butt. The lock gave way and the

door flew open.

Marcelino, pale with his confinement, and listening anxiously to the

cries and shouts which he could plainly hear, but of the cause of which

he knew nothing, stood in the centre of a well-furnished room as the

door flew open. He gazed in wonder upon the joyful faces of the negroes,

and the next moment was clasped in the arms of his brother.

"I have saved you, Marcelino, now you are free," said Evaristo, and

without further explanation he snatched a hat from a peg, and a light

poncho from a chair, saying--

"Put these on and come. It is sundown already, and I promised mamma and

Lola that I would go back with you to-day."

Marcelino asked no questions, but put on the hat and poncho, taking his

brother by the hand went forth along the corridor, down the staircase,

across the courtyard, and so out into the open Plaza. Here groups of

excited men were talking and gesticulating together, troops were

manoeuvring on the open space in the centre, all the ground in front

of the Cabildo was strewn with muskets and accoutrements, a body of

horsemen with drawn sabres were stationed in front of the cathedral, and

a party of the Patricios came along the side-walk, under the upper story

of the Cabildo, carrying on their crossed muskets two men in the uniform

of the Catalan regiment, whose heads were bound up with blood-stained

handkerchiefs. Around him and behind him came the negroes who had burst

open his prison door, their black faces shining with delight, and their

white teeth gleaming between their thick brown lips.

"What has happened?" said Marcelino. "There is my uncle Gregorio with a

party of his dragoons! There has been a fight! What has happened,

Evaristo?"

"Never mind now, come along quick, presently I will tell you all," said

Evaristo, hurrying him on past the cathedral and round the next corner.

Here Marcelino's own servant, the negro Manuel, stood holding two

saddled horses by the bridles. The two brothers mounted at once.

"Now I am free!" said Marcelino with a shout of joy as he settled

himself in the saddle. "I shall not forget this service which you have

done me, Morenos."

The negroes answered him with a loud shout, "Viva el Comandante Ponce!"

and drawn up in line presented arms.

Both brothers touched their hats in acknowledgment of this salute, and

then, slackening their reins, galloped away. Neither spoke till they had

left the suburbs behind them.

"Tell me now what has happened, Evaristo?" said Marcelino.

"I knew there was going to be something," replied Evaristo, "for Tata

sent me out to the quinta yesterday and would not go himself. I found

Uncle Gregorio there, and his dragoons came, Evaña had sent for them,

and uncle said you would be set free to-day, so I came back. First thing

this morning I went to the barracks of the Pardos y Morenos, there were

some of your men there and they were glad enough to promise me. All day

I waited but there was never a chance, there were the Catalanes and

Gallegos right in front of the Cabildo. Suddenly the arch of the Recoba

appeared a volcano vomiting dragoons with drawn sabres, the Spaniards

were all in confusion, I saw that the moment had come. I called to the

Morenos, they followed me like 'guapos' and here we are."

"Yes, here we are, thank God, but why were the Spaniards there and the

Patricios?"

"It appears that the Señores the Spaniards took it into their heads to

depose the Viceroy. That did not please Don Cornelio Saavedra, and the

dragoons of Uncle Gregorio have trampled on them some little I warrant

you."

[9] "Junta! Junta! like that of Spain! Down with Liniers the

Frenchman."

[10] For this scene see "La Historia de Belgrano," by General Mitre.

CHAPTER VIII

EVAÑA'S DREAM

It was long past nightfall ere the Viceroy, wearied with the day's

anxieties, returned to his official residence at the fort. As he crossed

the drawbridge he was joined by Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon.

"I come to congratulate you, Don Santiago, on the happy result of the

day," said Don Roderigo.

"Ah! Don Roderigo, is it you?" said the Viceroy. "I have looked for you

several times to-day. How is it that you never came with the other

members of the Cabildo?"

"I knew what they purposed doing and chose to take no part in it. I like

not these popular demonstrations."

"But the people were with me entirely."

"By good fortune, and owing to the firmness of Don Cornelio. But after

all we have only just escaped a great catastrophe."

"A catastrophe! Well, yes, if the Spanish regiments had stood firm there

would have been bloodshed, but the end would have been as it is."

"If the artillery and the Andaluces had been against you to-day, you

could only have crushed the conspiracy by great sacrifice of life, and

the danger is merely postponed."

"I shall disarm all the Spanish regiments."

"Disarm the Spanish regiments! If you do that you are lost, you put

yourself entirely in the power of these Creoles."

"The militia or the troops, I must choose between them," said Liniers.

"You do not see the danger from which both you and we have escaped

to-day. Why did the cavalry charge the troops when all was over? I will

tell you. There is a strong revolutionary feeling abroad in the city;

there are many among the Creoles who supported you to-day who did so

simply for the furtherance of their own schemes. They supported you for

the sake of destroying the authority of the Cabildo, their next step

will be to depose you. They seek to take advantage of the misfortunes of

Spain to establish here a republic."

"Evaña?" said the Viceroy.

"I mention no names," replied Don Roderigo, "but I warn you that in the

Cabildo only can you find a loyal and steady support to your authority."

"As I have seen to-day."

"To-day has been a foolish outbreak of Spanish pride and jealousy, of

which I had forewarned you, but, as you know, all Spaniards did not go

with Don Martin Alzaga. The artillery passed over at once when the

Patricios went to them shouting 'Viva el Reconquistador.' We Spaniards

have not forgotten the 12th August and the 5th and 6th July. Whilst you

hold your power by legitimate appointment from the supreme government of

Spain we look to you as our chief and as our defence against revolution,

there are not many of us who are hot-headed fools like Don Martin

Alzaga. Beware of the revolutionary party, they are the men who are

really dangerous. There has been bloodshed to-day, happily not much, not

enough to satisfy those reckless revolutionists. The cavalry charged

without order from Don Cornelio, it was the last effort of the

revolutionists to force on a conflict for the purpose of plunging us

into anarchy and so making an opportunity for themselves."

The Viceroy listened attentively to Don Roderigo, but merely answered by

inviting him to supper with him, and several others being present they

had no more confidential talk together. As he rose to go Don Roderigo

said--

"I think I have done your Excellency good service to-day, one boon I ask

you in return, the liberty of my son."

"Pues!" said the Viceroy, with a look of surprise; "he is free hours

ago."

"I did not know it," said Don Roderigo, "but I give you a thousand

thanks, and also for the leniency with which he has been treated during

his arrest."

"Then you knew nothing of it? I thought you had taken advantage of the

confusion to release him yourself. When the troops dispersed, a party of

negroes burst into the Cabildo and set him free by force, I thought you

had sent them."

"This is the first I hear of it," said Don Roderigo.

"I am glad of that," said the Viceroy, "for this violence was quite

unnecessary. I promised Captain Asneiros this morning that I would

release him at sundown. To-morrow I will send you a formal order for his

release, and his books and papers shall be returned to you."

Don Roderigo bowed and retired, feeling greatly disappointed, for he had

planned to himself to end the day by bearing the order for his son's

release, himself to the Cabildo, and by being himself the first to

congratulate him on his liberation.

While Don Roderigo and the Viceroy sat at supper, the commandant of the

dragoons from Las Barrancas and Don Carlos Evaña had a stormy

altercation together at the house of the latter gentleman. They were in

a large, plainly-furnished apartment, Don Gregorio seated in an

arm-chair with his hat on, and his left hand resting upon the hilt of

his sabre, Don Carlos walking excitedly up and down the room, while near

the door stood Venceslao Viana, bare-headed and unarmed, his sword-belt

and sabre lying on a side-table, near to which the Colonel was seated.

"Without doubt you are to blame, Don Carlos," said Don Gregorio, "but

that in no way excuses the conduct of Venceslao. My officers are not to

receive orders from any one but me, if they do not incur the extreme

penalty of martial law. Your act, Venceslao, has cost the lives of six

men, and there are some two score wounded; your act was in disobedience

to my express orders, and your life is forfeit for the vindication of

military discipline."

"To Don Carlos I owe my life," said Venceslao calmly. "If I lose it in

his service, I do no more than pay my debt."

"Then that debt is paid," replied Don Gregorio. "If the Viceroy pass

over this affair without enquiry I shall say no more about it. Take up

your sabre and go."

Without the slightest change of countenance Venceslao buckled on his

sabre, then with a low bow to both the others replaced his hat and left

the room. In the patio outside the door of this room stood two

dismounted troopers with their carbines; in the streets outside half a

troop were seated in their saddles with drawn sabres; one of these men

held Venceslao's horse by the bridle, he mounted and trotted slowly

away.

"It appears that I am to be a great warrior," said he to himself, as he

trotted through the suburbs; "I am always just going to be killed, and

away I go without a scratch. When I heard the order for my arrest I said

to myself, 'Of a certainty he will shoot me.' I deserved it without

doubt, yet here I am."

Without giving more thought to the matter he then commenced singing one

of the monotonous songs of the paisanos, and so trotted on to a quinta

beyond the suburbs where his regiment was encamped.

"Sit down, Carlos," said Don Gregorio, as Venceslao closed the door

behind him. "Explain to me your ideas. Why did you seek to force on a

conflict when all had ended as we wished it?"

"Because all has not ended as we wished it," replied Evaña, throwing

himself upon a sofa. "We wished to break for ever the power of the

Spaniards over us. What we have done is to secure the power of one who

will maintain everything as it has been. I wished to force him into open

collision with the Spaniards, as it is he has half the Spaniards with

him. If I had succeeded he would have been forced to depend in

everything upon native Argentines; until the government is in every

department in the hands of Creoles we are not a free people, and that is

the end to which you, I, and every true Argentine aspires."

"Truly it is so, but I like not your way of going to work. Liberty

without strict discipline is anarchy, discipline is more necessary among

a free people than among slaves."

Then there was silence for a space between them, till Evaña sprang from

his sofa saying:

"Yet it is possible that we may do something. Promise me that you will

return slowly, and not go further than the casa-teja till I see you or

write to you."

"You have some fresh scheme in your head?"

"I have, and I may need your assistance."

"For three days I will wait, but no longer. Do what you can, and count

upon me."

"I am going at once to see Liniers, to try what can be done with him. He

must see by now what he can expect from the Spaniards. If he will but

declare for us our cause is won."

Darkness shrouded the city which during the day had been the scene of so

much tumult. It wanted but an hour of midnight, the moon had not yet

risen, and the stars shining calmly down from the blue vault where they

kept their stations, were the only lights which illumined the path of a

tall man, enveloped in a large cloak, who picked his way carefully

across the Plaza de los Perdices. He walked up to the drawbridge which

crossed the dry ditch surrounding the fort on the land side. The bridge

was down, but the gate beyond was closed, and on the bridge a sentry of

the Patricios kept watch and ward.

"Good-night, friend," said the tall man to the sentry.

"Keep back, whoever you are," said the sentry, bringing down his musket

to the charge.

"Do not alarm yourself, Pancho, I am no enemy," said the other. "Who is

the officer of the guard?"

"Back!" replied the sentry. "Who are you? How do you know that my name

is Pancho?"

But the tall man came still nearer, taking off his hat, and throwing

back his cloak.

"Don Carlos Evaña!" exclaimed the sentry, recovering his musket. "What

would you at this hour? Have you not the word?"

"No. But who is the officer of the guard?"

"The Señor Lieutenant Lopez y Viana."

"Valentin!" exclaimed Evaña; "it could not be better. Do me the favour

to knock at the gate, and ask him to come out and speak to me."

The sentry walked back across the bridge and knocked at the gate. After

a lengthened parley a sergeant stepped out through a wicket, and

requested Don Carlos to come forward and step inside. Don Carlos walked

across the bridge, passed the wicket and found himself in the midst of

an armed party of the Patricios, one of whom held up a lantern to his

face.

"Ah! it is you, Don Carlos," said a young officer, stepping forward.

"Excuse the delay, but after the affair of to-day no precaution is too

much."

"You do perfectly right, Valentin," replied Don Carlos; then passing his

arm over the shoulder of the young officer he whispered some few words

in his ear.

Five minutes later Don Carlos was seated in the private apartment of the

Viceroy, and with him held earnest converse for nearly an hour.

"Then your Excellency entirely rejects my proposal," said Evaña.

"I do," replied the Viceroy. "I hold my authority from the Court of

Spain, and will suffer no innovations without consulting the supreme

authorities, whoever they may happen to be."

"Think well what you do, Don Santiago. Such an opportunity as the

present may never offer itself to you again. The people have to-day for

the third time shown their power. Twice have they repulsed invasions of

the English, to-day they have humbled the arrogance of the Spaniards.

Put yourself at the head of this new power which has risen up in

America, and a new career of greatness and of glory will open up before

you. Attempt to arrest the progress of the people, and they themselves,

who to-day have offered their lives for you, will crush you to the

dust."

"You threaten me," exclaimed the Viceroy.

"I do not threaten you, I merely warn you. If I stand forth myself and

proclaim the liberty of the people they will rise as one man to demand

their rights. Who is there that shall say them nay?"

"The people would not listen to you," replied the Viceroy.

"I wish to avoid bloodshed and contention, therefore I ask you, who hold

the power in your hands, to put yourself at the head of the people.

Under your leadership there will be no contention, no bloodshed."

"Know you not that this is treason which you propose to me? What hinders

me from ordering your immediate arrest as a conspirator against Spain?"

"Do it," said Evaña, rising. "Call in your guards, order them to arrest

me. Doubtless they will obey you, but to-morrow's sun will see the last

day of your authority in Buenos Aires. Shoot me if you like. I should

die joyfully, for I know that my blood would purchase the liberty of my

own people."

"No. You have come here unarmed and alone. I respect the trust you have

placed in me, but give some attention to my words. I have long had my

eye upon you as a man of dangerous ideas--ideas which you have now

disclosed to me. Look well what you do, for whilst I hold authority as

Viceroy I will maintain that authority intact, and will punish any

revolutionary attempt with the extremest rigour of the law."

"And how much longer will you hold this authority?" asked Evaña. "Have

not the Spaniards to-day shown you how little they respect it? I know

it, if you do not, that months ago they sent to Spain for a successor to

you, who may come at any time. What becomes then of your authority? Why

should you submit to be deposed by the Junta of Seville? They did not

appoint you. Your authority was bestowed upon you by the people; you

retain it now solely by their will. I say no more, but I give you three

days to consider of the proposal I have made to you. If at the

expiration of that time you are silent, then I shall know that you have

chosen your own course, and shall abandon you to your fate; but again I

warn you, beware how you oppose the progress of the people. You, who are

to-day their favourite, will be the first victim of their rage in the

day when they rise up in their strength and seize those rights which you

have conspired to keep from them."

As Evaña spoke he raised himself to his full height, looking with a

stern, threatening gaze upon the Viceroy, who answered him not a word,

but sat motionless in his chair, while the colour faded from his face

and lips, and the sweat stood in great beads upon his brow. He forgot

that he was in Buenos Aires, he forgot that he was Viceroy; in memory he

stood again in the streets of Paris as he stood in his youth; again

before his eyes there rushed a furious, half-starved mob, brandishing

strange weapons and shouting fiercely in hoarse voices the refrain of

that deadly song:

"Ca ira! Les Aristocrats à la lanterne."

Evaña saw the pallor in his cheeks, saw the vacant stare in his

terror-stricken eyes, and waited for him to speak, half hopeful yet; but

no words came, slowly the eyes recovered their usual expression and

turned upon himself, their expression then becoming one of fierce anger.

The Viceroy started from his chair, laying his hand upon the hilt of his

sword, for one moment he stood irresolute, then his eyes shrank beneath

the stern, threatening gaze of those dark eyes which confronted his so

unflinchingly; once more he sank back into his chair covering his face

with his hands.

Evaña, taking up his hat and cloak, made a low bow to the unconscious

Viceroy and left him to himself. In the ante-room he met young Valentin,

with whom he spoke for a few minutes; crossing the parade-ground, where

the guard drawn up presented arms to him as he passed, he stept out

through the wicket, and folding his cloak closely round him went forth

over the drawbridge and with long, rapid strides walked swiftly away for

his own home.

His servant had supper waiting for him as he arrived; he tried to eat,

but it seemed to him as though his food would choke him; he poured out a

goblet of wine, drank it at one draught, and retired to his own room.

"Only six killed, and they men of whom no one thinks twice," said he to

himself, and he paced up and down. "To-morrow it will be all forgotten,

and we shall be as good friends as ever with our lords the Spaniards.

That fool Liniers! I have given him three days, but I know it will all

be in vain; to-morrow he will have some one else at his ear, he will do

nothing. But can I do nothing? He said they would not listen to me; but

many would, and lose themselves with me perchance. No, patience,

patience yet, my day will come."

So he laid himself down to sleep, and in the visions of the night there

came to him a dream.

Legions of red-coated soldiery obeyed his orders, encompassing his

native city on all sides, assailing it with storms of shot and shell,

laying the suburbs in ruins and advancing through streets of burning

houses, slaying all who opposed them, till the city was won. Then he

himself led the attack upon the fort; forcing his way across the

drawbridge, encumbered with heaps of corpses, he rushed to the tall

flag-staff on which fluttered the standard of Spain. With his own hands

he tore down this standard and set up another. Then as this new standard

gave itself to the winds, floating high in air amidst smoke and dust, he

turned, pointed to it with his drawn sword, and called upon his

countrymen to acknowledge him as their liberator.

But when he looked around him he was alone, and there was none to answer

him. Then from afar off there came to him an answer from the city. From

amidst the crumbling walls and burning houses there reached him through

the murky air the wailing voices of women and the piteous cries of

children.

Then he was perplexed, and his heart smote him that he had done

unwisely; and as he thought of the desolation he had accomplished there

rose up before him from a pile of mangled corpses one ghastly figure,

covered with blood and wounds, which, frowning angrily upon him, rushed

upon him with a dagger to stab him to the heart. Fiercely he struck at

this phantom with his sword; as he struck, another figure rushed in

between them, the figure of a woman, whose long dishevelled hair

enveloped her with a radiance as of molten gold. His sword buried itself

in her breast; wildly she threw up her arms, gazing upon him out of a

pair of large grey eyes, full of terror and reproach.

"Always my friend, whatever happens!" she shrieked out, then threw

herself at his feet to die. It was Dolores.

With a loud cry Evaña started from his couch and woke.

CHAPTER IX

THE DAY AFTER

Mother and sister received the rescued prisoner with open arms. Far into

the night they sat together talking over the events of the last three

weeks, while of the day itself the events were detailed to them by

Evaristo after a fashion somewhat hard of comprehension.

When they separated, Marcelino retired to his couch with a heavy heart.

During his imprisonment and since, he had learned sufficient to tell him

that his father, though professing the greatest indignation at his

arrest, had taken no one step towards his deliverance, and had rather

hindered the plans of those who had interested themselves for him.

During his imprisonment he had been subjected once only to a cursory

examination, when the questions put to him showed him that the cause of

his imprisonment was the scheme for inviting the Princess Carlota to

Buenos Aires, which he had been the first to enunciate. In this scheme

he had taken no further part, yielding to the wish of his father, though

he still looked upon it as the only means of achieving independence

without plunging the country into civil war.

That his father knew the cause of his imprisonment, and could have

procured his release at any moment, he felt certain, yet he had neither

written to him nor had been once to see him. The Viceroy would hardly

have ventured upon such a step without consulting him, he must at least

have consented to, perhaps even suggested his imprisonment. So Marcelino

pondered within himself, lying on his couch sleepless through the night

until the dawn of another day, his mind filled with bitter thoughts and

his heart with anger.

The next day Venceslao Viana, passing the quinta with the dragoons on

the march outside, left a note from Colonel Lopez to Doña Constancia,

telling her that if Marcelino was with her he need be under no fear of

arrest, for the Viceroy had sent an order for his liberation to the

Cabildo on the preceding evening.

* * * * *

The great heat of the day was past, the sun was already dipping towards

the tree-tops, and the shadows were beginning to stretch themselves out

over the broad walks of the Quinta de Don Alfonso. The wide porch,

covered with honeysuckle, passion-flowers, and other creepers, was at

this time of the day the coolest part of the house, here Magdalen sat

alone in a low chair, sewing. She was dressed in a plain gown of

dove-coloured muslin, fitting closely round the base of her neck,

leaving her throat uncovered, girded round the waist with a belt of blue

velvet, fastened by a silver buckle. Narrow straight sleeves covered

her arms down to the wrists, where they were confined by bands of blue

velvet and terminated in little white frills. Her glossy brown hair was

bound round her head by a fillet of blue silk, from which sundry stray

locks had escaped, and lay in broad curls upon her neck and shoulders.

She was not very diligently at work, every now and then she would pause,

and laying down her task gazed with dreamy, far-looking eyes, out

through the bright sunshine and through the foliage of the trees upon

the white towers and domes of the city, so near to look upon, and yet to

her so far off. For she knew hardly anything of what had happened there

for two weeks past, she herself having never left the quinta and her

father but once all that time, while the only visitor who had been with

them was Don Fausto Velasquez. Since his visit her father had been very

anxious and troubled, but of his trouble he had told her nothing. That

morning his face had brightened, and he had gone into the city, from

which he had not yet returned.

So she sat alternately stitching and gazing, watching the lengthening

shadows of the trees, eagerly looking at any who passed on the adjacent

road, listening to the sound of any footstep that came near her, waiting

and thinking. Waiting for her father, who came not, thinking of many

things. Waiting for her father, who had told her when he went that he

hoped to bring her good news on his return; thinking of what these news

would be, yet doubting much that the news which would most please her

would be but of small import to him.

As she thus sat she heard a footstep close to her, a footstep which she

knew well, coming up the garden walk, close to the house. This footstep,

light and quick, she had learned to know, for it had brought her joy

many times, and now her heart bounded with a wild delight, and she

whispered to herself:

"He is free."

Then a sudden pang shot through her and quenched her joy. The blood

which had rushed to her face at the first sound of that footstep fled

back again to her heart, and left her with pale cheeks and a nervous

contraction of the lips, as she thought of some words which had been

said to her days before by Doña Josefina, and of a girl of radiant

beauty of whom he had spoken in terms of warm admiration.

The footsteps ceased, a figure stood in the entrance of the porch, and a

low voice spoke to her in tender accents, one word only:

"Magdalen."

As she heard that voice, and that one word so tenderly spoken, the

tremor of her heart ceased, the blood rushed back to her face, suffusing

cheeks and brow, she started to her feet, stretching out her hand and

trying to speak some word of welcome, but no word came. Marcelino took

her hand in his own and raised it to his lips, then leading her back to

her chair he seated himself beside her on a low stool, still holding her

hand in his. So sat they silently for some moments, Magdalen was the

first to speak.

"Papa is not at home," she said, drawing away her hand; "all day he has

been in the city."

"It is three weeks since I have seen you," replied Marcelino. "They

have been to me like three years. I have been in prison, I have been

thinking of you all the time and wondering whether you would miss me.

Have you been much in the city since I saw you last?"

"No, only once," said Magdalen. "Doña Josefina said that you would soon

be free."

"I escaped last night, and am free, yet in great trouble; I cannot live

here any longer, I must go, but I could not go without seeing you

first."

"Going! Where are you going? Don Fausto said that it was a mistake, and

that you had done nothing."

"Yes, I had done something, I had dared to love my country, and had

dared to speak of a scheme which would free her from tyranny. To love

one's country is a crime in the eyes of our lords the Spaniards, and my

father is a Spaniard."

Then again there was silence between them for a space, till Magdalen

spoke.

"Yesterday morning there was a squadron of horse here in the Plaza," she

said; "all the morning they were there. Papa was very anxious and kept

watching them, till in the siesta they marched away into the city. What

happened there?"

"At sundown there was a fight in the Plaza Mayor. Evaristo with some of

the Morenos of mine bust into the Cabildo and set me free. It appears

that the Spaniards made a revolt against Liniers and failed. More I know

not, but this is the beginning I hoped to have avoided, now I have to

choose between my father and my country."

"Your father! But he was a great friend of the Viceroy, he would not

join a revolt against him."

"My father is a Spaniard, what Spaniards do is always well done in his

eyes, and without doubt he was with them."

"But you say they have failed; he may be in danger. When did you leave

the city? What have you heard?"

"I left the city last night, and I have heard nothing more than I have

told you."

"And all the day where have you been?" said Magdalen, looking at him in

surprise.

"I have been all day at the quinta, I have just come from there. I could

not pass the first day of my freedom without seeing you."

"And your father in danger! Oh, that is wrong, it is so unlike you.

"In danger of what? a prison? I have just escaped from the prison where

he put me."

"He put you! It was the Viceroy put you in prison, and Don Roderigo was

very angry about it; Don Fausto said so."

"The Viceroy does nothing of himself, he always consults some one, none

more than my father. My father warned me of this conspiracy, and I told

him that if the Spaniards here pronounced against Liniers, as Elio did

in Monte Video, all Argentines would support the Viceroy against them.

He wanted me to promise him that I would take no part either one way or

other. I refused, and a few days after I was in prison. Do not you think

that one word from my father would have set me free? That word he never

spoke. None knew better than he that in the affair of the Princess

Carlota nothing could be proved against me, and I fear that he himself

suggested my imprisonment."

"Even if it be so it was for your sake he did it. If you had been with

the Viceroy, and the Spaniards had been successful, no one knows what

perils you would have run, in prison you were safe from all risk."

"Am I boy, that my father must lock me up to keep me out of mischief? I

gave up my scheme to please him, and see now how he trusts me."

"Oh! do not speak so, do not speak so, quarrels between Argentines and

Spaniards are bad enough, but between father and son they are far worse.

Your father has done this out of his care for you; perhaps he is now in

danger. You must forgive him and help him."

"What can I do if he joins himself with the enemies of my country? Am I

to be a traitor to my country for his sake?"

"Nevertheless he is your father. Where is he? Perhaps in prison."

"I wished to avoid this, he stopped me, and said my scheme was folly.

They have commenced it, and now we shall have civil war here in America,

with my father on one side, I on the other. I see nothing but misery in

the future."

"Have you no faith in God? Mr Gordon told me that you used to study the

Bible, yet you seem to despair; he who has faith in God can never

despair."

"For months I have not opened the Bible. I begin to believe that there

is no God."

"But you did believe there was a God once. You read the Bible and

learned lessons of faith from it, have you forgotten them already? When

the English came you did your duty, though you said yourself that there

was no hope of beating them. Have you less courage now than then? Can

you not do your duty and leave the result to God?"

Then Marcelino looked up at Magdalen in surprise, he had never heard her

speak so before; her voice was low, and there was a sweet tremulousness

in her tones which showed that there was a deep earnestness in what she

said. Again he took her hand in his, leaning upon the arm of her chair.

"Do you ever read the Bible?" he asked.

"Every day; my mother taught me when I was quite a little girl in

England, and papa promised her that I should always read it. When I came

here to live with papa he told me what he had promised my mother for me,

and he gave me her Bible which he had kept for me. Every day I read it

now."

"When I was at Chascomus with my Morenos I read the Bible every day."

"And when you read the Bible what did you learn from it?"

"Once Gordon told me that the great lesson of the Bible was faith, faith

in God. I love my father, till now he has always been to me the best of

friends, now we are separated for ever. Think you that I can have faith

in God when my father becomes my worst enemy?"

"You have not read the Bible well or you would know that that is

impossible. If you have faith in God you will do your duty now as you

did before. You will help your father if he is in danger."

"I have to choose between my father and my country. Tell me, what is my

duty?"

Magdalen was silent, and a troubled expression came over her face. She

had admired the eager patriotism she had seen in Marcelino and in

others, but of this sentiment she herself knew nothing, she had but one

duty that she knew of in her life, her duty to her father, and she could

not understand how any other duty could clash with that.

"Tell me, what is my duty?" said Marcelino again, looking earnestly at

her.

"Where your father is, you will learn your duty," replied she.

Then there was silence between them for several minutes, and when they

spoke again it was on other subjects, about Doña Josefina, about Lola,

about Don Alfonso, but of whatever they talked both thought of Don

Roderigo, though of him they spoke no more.

As the shadows deepened on the garden walks there came another footstep

through the quinta towards the porch, a footstep very different from the

one that had come before, a heavy, plodding footstep, as of one out of

whose life the light and strength had departed, but Magdalen started up

as she heard it, a smile beaming out from her eyes. That step, though so

heavy, was lighter than she had heard it for many a long day, it was her

father's step, and he was bringing her the good news of which he had

spoken to her. She ran out to meet him with a flush of pleasure on her

face.

"Ah! Chica," said he gaily; "how has the long day passed with you?"

And when he saw Marcelino, who stood on the step of the porch waiting

for him, he stretched out his hand to him with greater cordiality than

was his wont.

"Felicidades!" he said. "In the city every one is asking for you. The

general idea is that you are with your mother at the quinta."

"I went there last night," replied Marcelino. "But what has happened? I

hardly know anything."

"Then you had better return to the quinta, there you will learn all. A

large party has gone out there this evening in search of you. Don't be

frightened, Chica," he added, as Magdalen started while she clung to his

arm, "all are now friends, and Don Martin Alzaga is in prison."

"And my father, what of him?" asked Marcelino.

At this question Don Alfonso frowned, but he answered gravely:

"Your father is more astute than I thought him; he has managed in some

way to keep well with all parties."

"Did not I tell you so?" said Magdalen, with a bright smile. "Don

Roderigo would never join a conspiracy against the Viceroy. Don Fausto

said that he was his best friend."

"In the friendship of some men there is more danger than in the enmity

of others," said Don Alfonso gruffly. Then leading his daughter into the

porch, he added, turning to Marcelino:

"At the Quinta de Ponce there are many who wait for you."

Marcelino wished much to ask more, but after this he could remain no

longer. Bowing in silence he took his leave of them both, somewhat

repaid for the gruffness of the father by the sympathy which looked

upon him from Magdalen's gray eyes. He had left his horse tied under the

trees at the back of the quinta, thoughtfully he walked from the house

to where he had left him, mounted, and galloped away.

"How long has he been here?" said Don Alfonso to his daughter, when

Marcelino was beyond hearing.

"Nearly an hour," replied Magdalen. "He said there was fighting

yesterday in the city. Something good had happened, I can tell that from

your face, Tatita."

"Yes, I can breathe freely at last, the danger has passed over, and in

no way am I compromised. But listen, Chica, I like not that this Don

Marcelino come here so often. The Señor Evaña is a friend of mine, and

for friends of his my door is open, but with the family of Don Roderigo

I want no friendship. Doña Josefina told me to-day that you had

frequently met his daughter at her house, this is bad. Do not forget

that such friendships are not convenient."

CHAPTER X

AMERICA FOR THE AMERICANS

That evening Doña Constancia could not complain of being lonely at her

quinta. At sundown Don Fausto Velasquez arrived in his carriage,

bringing his whole family with him, and attended by Don Manuel Belgrano

and Captain Asneiros, who rode. Soon after them came Don Roderigo and

Colonel Lopez. Don Roderigo asked at once for Marcelino, and was greatly

chagrined when he heard that he had left in the afternoon for the city,

as he had seen nothing of him there, but his annoyance was not of long

continuance; before it was quite dark two more horsemen passed along the

road by the quinta gate to the stable, and Evaristo, who had been on the

match, came running back to the verandah, announcing them to be his

brother and Don Carlos Evaña.

As these two came up to the house after dismounting, both of them looked

grave; on Marcelino's face there was even a deep shade of sadness. But

Don Roderigo was in exuberant spirits, and warmly embraced his son.

"Evaristo was too quick for me," he said. "I had planned to set you free

myself as the crown to the day's work. But you are free, and I have

arranged it all; you will receive no more annoyance on that subject."

Then he gave his hand cordially to Evaña, saying:

"Ah, Carlos, at last you have emerged from your seclusion. I welcome you

amongst us, we men of experience need the help of younger men like you.

We will work together and between us raise up a new Spain in America,

with laws and customs fitted to a new world, now that the old Spain is

tottering to her fall."

Then Evaña, looking upon the smiling face, listening to the cordial

words of Don Roderigo, felt for the first time doubt of the

practicability of his own schemes, fear for the success of his darling

object, a Republic of Argentines.

"A new Spain in America, with laws and customs fitted to a new world!"

said he to himself, "what is this? Can Spaniards be freemen? Can

Spaniards and Argentines live together as equals under the free laws of

a new Spain?"

His heart was troubled; he walked away by himself under the trees,

turning this matter over and over in his mind, and finding no solution

to this fresh problem which was based upon the, to him, new idea, that

tyranny and injustice were not essential ingredients in the character of

a Spaniard. As he walked to and fro in the dim twilight a small hand

was laid upon his arm, and a voice he loved to hear, spoke to him in

words soft and low.

"Don Carlos, what are you doing here all alone? You have not been inside

even to speak to us, and I have so much to say, so much to thank you

for, and mamma too, she has been asking for you. How nobly you have kept

your promise. We have heard all about it now, Don Fausto and the Señor

Belgrano have told us what you did yesterday."

To all that she said Evaña answered not one word, but he took her hand

in his and side by side they walked together under the trees in the dim

twilight, she talking on, telling of her joy at seeing her brother once

more free, and of her certainty that now all would go well, and that

there would be no more talk of quarrels between Spaniards and Creoles.

Had not her father said so? And to Dolores that which her father said

was truth unquestioned. As Evaña listened to her, her voice was to him

as the rippling of waters, a music soothing the trouble of his soul, yet

of what she said he knew nothing, for his thoughts were far away peering

into the dark future which seemed darker than ever from the veil which

had been thrown over it by the words of Don Roderigo.

As Evaña walked away Don Roderigo took his son by the hand and led him

inside, where his mother embraced him, chiding him tenderly for having

left her, and the others crowded round, overwhelming him with

congratulations.

Eagerly they talked together recounting the events of the day past and

of the day now closing, of most of which Marcelino was entirely

ignorant. As they talked to him his sadness and his anxiety vanished,

his face flushed with a proud joy, it seemed to him that the work was

already accomplished, that he was already a free citizen of a free

people, that the power of Spain was broken for ever in Buenos Aires,

that the bonds of Spanish rule were burst asunder, never more to fetter

the energies of a young nation.

Then as he looked upon his father, whose face and words were joyous as

those of the others, and to whom all ascribed the credit of having by

his foresight and intrepidity prevented a murderous struggle, his heart

smote him that he had been unjust towards him. His heart yearned towards

him, prompting him to confess his mistake and to beg forgiveness. He

rose from his seat beside his mother and went to him, taking him by the

arm and leading him out from the brilliantly lighted sala to the

verandah.

"Forgive me, Tata," he said; "I have been unjust to you in my thoughts.

I looked upon you as one of them and you are one of us. I even thought

that it was to you that I owed my imprisonment, and accused you of

cruelty to me and want of confidence. Forgive me."

"Right willingly I forgive you, my son," replied Don Roderigo; "your

fault is nothing more than the inexperience of youth. I did not imprison

you, but I could have procured your release sooner had I been able to

trust in your discretion. You are an enthusiastic partisan of Don

Santiago Liniers, and if affairs had gone badly you might have seriously

compromised yourself for his sake, and all to no purpose. I warn you

that this Liniers is not the man you think him, but I tell you he will

not rule much longer. The failure of this conspiracy will greatly

increase my influence, and I trust that native Argentines will so

support me that that influence may be exercised for the welfare of us

all. We who are Spaniards must give up our old traditions of conquest

and domination, and young Argentines must indulge no more in senseless

dreams of republican equality. So, all may yet go well with us, and we

may form a free and united people."

"Ah! father, that is just my wish, as I have said to you long ago,"

rejoined Marcelino. "If the Princess Carlota----"

"Do not speak to me of her," said Don Roderigo, interrupting him; "that

scheme is quite inadmissible. Ferdinand VII., though in a French prison,

is King of Spain and the Indies."

As Don Roderigo spoke his eye fell upon his daughter and Don Carlos

Evaña, who passed near them walking side by side, the low murmur of the

girl's voice falling indistinctly upon his ear.

"See," said he, "there is the master spirit of the new generation. He is

your dearest friend, may he not also be to me a son? With two such sons

to help me I have no fear of the future."

Then Don Roderigo laid his hand upon his son's shoulder leaning upon

him, and Marcelino followed with his eyes those two forms which glided

slowly along side by side under the trees, seen only by the light of the

stars of heaven which twinkled down upon them through the overarching

foliage. On the face of Don Roderigo there was hope and confidence, but

on his son's there was doubt. His thoughts carried him back to an

evening months gone by, when he had stood with Evaña and his sister at

the end of the long avenue of the poplar trees, watching the setting of

the sun, an evening on which he had seen sorrow and pity in his sister's

face as she had looked upon his friend, an evening on which that friend

had called him "brother."

As they stood there watching, Dolores saw them and, leaving Evaña, ran

gaily towards them. Her father opened his arms to her, and kissing her

fondly led her with him back to the sala, while Marcelino walked away

and joined his friend under the trees. Passing his arm through his:

"Are you my brother?" he asked him.

"Most certainly I am," replied Evaña.

"And his son?"

"Never."

* * * * *

It was past midnight, most of the household lay asleep, but in one inner

room lights were still burning, and the window and the door thrown wide

open let in a constant draught of the cool night air, causing the lights

to blaze unsteadily and filling the room with flickering shadows. Here

four men sat at a small table talking together in low tones. On the

table stood a tall glass jug half full of claret, and several goblets.

"I knew nothing of it," said Don Carlos Evaña.

"Where have you been all day that at this hour you come to learn what is

old news to all the city?" said Colonel Lopez.

"I remained in my room all day, and saw no one till Marcelino came."

"And the idea of last night, what came of it?"

"Nothing. It was a dream, and as a dream it vanished. I thought to do

something with Liniers. I proposed to him to join us. With his great

popularity to secure union among us, we might at once have declared our

independence, and have achieved it without a struggle. He refused, and

the victory of yesterday is sterile."

"From him we can hope nothing," said Marcelino. "Even my father says so,

and my father says more yet--he says that his power is nearly at an

end."

"Your father does not speak without knowledge," said Don Manuel

Belgrano, who was the fourth man present; "without doubt they will send

us a new Viceroy from Seville."

"The power is in our hands now," said Marcelino; "what we have to study

is the means of keeping it. Such Spaniards as Don Martin Alzaga we can

look upon in no other way than as enemies, but all Spaniards are not as

he. Spaniards there are who would willingly join us in building up a new

Spain, where the will of the people shall be the law of the State, and

the welfare of the people the first object of government."

"Dreams!" said Evaña.

"A dream as yet, but it may become a reality," rejoined Marcelino. "To

conciliate such Spaniards we must maintain our connection with the Old

World, and we must abstain from startling novelties and from rash

experiments which may lead us no one knows where."

"Your love for your father blinds you to the truth," said Evaña. "If in

all the Viceroyalty there were to be found six Spaniards like Don

Roderigo I would support you. The Spaniards who come here, come with but

one object, to amass wealth by any means in their power, and then to go

back. For us Creoles or for our welfare they care nothing."

"You say true," said Colonel Lopez, bringing his fist down upon the

table with a force which made the glasses clatter together. "Whilst

Spaniards govern, we are slaves. Out with the Spaniards, and all is

possible for men who know that their country is their own."

Marcelino looked up in surprise at his uncle; never before had he heard

him speak thus. But Evaña smiled, and from him Marcelino turned away his

eyes, for that smile was not one pleasant to look upon--there was no

mirth, no joy, in it, nothing but fierce resolve.

"My correspondence with Rio Janeiro has not inspired me with any great

hope of good from the Princess Carlota," said Belgrano, "but I would

willingly make great sacrifices to keep among us such men as Don

Roderigo, and I do not agree with Evaña that there are no other

Spaniards like him, I believe there are many."

"There is but one sacrifice necessary," said Marcelino. "Some of us

dream of an independent republic, we must give that up. When you write

again to Rio state positively that we demand a 'Cabildo Abierto.' If the

Princess yield that, all is possible. We shall have a new Spain, in

which the majority of the citizens and all the troops will be

Argentines. What would you more, Carlos? We shall have the liberty of a

republic and keep the stability of an ancient nation."

"Dreams!" said Evaña. "The Princess is a Spaniard, her advisers are

Spaniards and priests."

"We want no Spaniards and no Bourbons," said Colonel Lopez, "we want a

government of our own. Spaniards such as Don Roderigo, who have married

into our families, and have property here instead of sending it to

Spain, are of us, concerning them there is no question. But Spaniards

who come from Spain to rule over us and plunder us, what know they of

us, or what care we for them? Out with them! We are no longer slaves

that we should obey them!"

"As I have said already," said Evaña, "the triumph of yesterday is

sterile, and we have need of all our vigilance to prevent the loss of

everything we have gained since the victory of the 12th of August."

"Let us watch then," said Marcelino, "and from time to time let us meet

together to consult upon the events as they fall out."

"At last then you see the necessity of adopting my idea," said Evaña, "a

secret committee."

"I did not say so," said Marcelino.

"Nevertheless it is necessary, my friend," said Don Manuel Belgrano.

"If it has come to that it is time that I retire," said the Colonel;

"with secret societies I will have nothing to do. But remember, prepare

you everything and when the day comes leave the work to us, we want no

civilians interfering with the troops."

So saying the Colonel poured himself out a goblet of water and left the

room.

"He says right," said Marcelino, as he went out; "it is for us to

prepare the work, for others to do it."

"We must not only prepare, but much we must do also," said Belgrano.

"Without doubt," said Evaña. "The people are accustomed to look to one

central power, we will destroy the Spanish power, but we must put

another in its place, a central power ruling by the will of the people.

This power we must guide ourselves, but we must also hold ourselves

ready to act at times as its instruments."

"If we are not careful we shall but substitute one despotism for

another," said Marcelino.

"Without danger nothing is done," replied Evaña. "To discuss fully all

these points, and to provide as far as we can against all these dangers,

it is necessary that we form a secret committee. A secret committee is

irresponsible, and its members are pledged to nothing, we will have but

one tie between us, that of nationality, we must all be Argentines. Each

man will give account to the others of all that he does for the common

cause, will consult with them as to what he may purpose to do, and will

know where to look for aid in any event that may befall in which the

co-operation of others is requisite.

"Who do you propose to invite to join us?" asked Belgrano.

"If you will both join me the committee is formed at once, then we may

consult together as to whom we shall invite."

"I refuse no longer, I see that it is necessary," said Marcelino.

"I will join you also," said Belgrano.

"The first I propose to invite," said Evaña, "are Nicolas Rodriguez

Peña, Francisco Passo, and Berruti."

"And Dr Vieytes," said Belgrano; "his house will be a good point of

reunion for us."

"And I propose Juan Jose Passo, Donado, and Miguel Yrigoyen," said

Marcelino.

"I think all those will join us," said Evaña.

"All of them think as we do," said Marcelino; "all demand the liberation

of our country from foreign domination; but even among so few there are

many opinions as to the means of doing it. What plan of action do you

propose in which we may all combine?"

"I propose nothing, the time has not yet come," replied Evaña. "One idea

unites us, America for the Americans, let that suffice us for the

present."

"America for the Americans," said Belgrano; "let that be our watchword."

Then the three stood up joining hands across the table, repeating

together that watchword which expressed more fully than any other words

could do, the crude plans and ill-defined aspirations of the new

generation:

"America for the Americans."

BOOK V

THE DAWN OF FREEDOM

PART II

THE MISTS OF THE EARLY MORN

PROLOGUE

The vacillations of a youth are by no means a sign of instability. An

unknown world opens up before him, at every step he meets some object,

to him, full of novelty. When a prize seems within his grasp he draws

back his hands and turns away to enquire into the substance of some

fleeting shadow, which seems to him to have all the solidity of a great

reality. Disappointments fall upon him, and he loses much that was

easily attainable in the pursuit of intangible myths. Yet are these

disappointments no loss, they are the lessons by which his ignorance is

cleared away, and he grows in knowledge as he grows in years. These

disappointments are experience, without which no lesson is perfect.

When the beams of the yet invisible sun brighten the sky in the east,

men know that the day is at hand. Yet do these beams often raise up

mists from earth, moist with the dews of night, which cover their

brilliance as with a veil, throwing out a new shadow of darkness; but

that darkness is not of the night, it is the herald of the day. Behind

that veil rises up the sun, soon to dissipate those shadows, bathing the

earth in the full effulgence of his glory.

CHAPTER I

THE TWO VICEROYS

The Señor Don Ciriaco Asneiros was far from satisfied with the part he

had taken in the affair of the 1st January. To him there remained no

doubt that he had been the dupe of Doña Josefina. On the evening of the

2nd January he rode out to the Quinta de Ponce, determined to come to

some explanation with her. She, confident in her own power of

fascination, was ready enough to give him the interview he sought, and

soon succeeded in soothing his resentment. As they sat under the

verandah together she spoke to him of Magdalen.

"Why do you not marry, Don Ciriaco?" said she to him; "if you were to

marry your position would be secure."

"Señora, you know well----"

"Of folly I wish to know nothing, Don Ciriaco; be wise and listen to me.

What you require is a rich wife; I can get you one. What think you of

Magdalen Miranda?"

"The Inglesita!"

"Why not?"

"Think you I have no eyes, Señora? For Don Marcelino there is no other

in the world."

"Marcelino!" exclaimed Doña Josefina, interrupting him. "Have you also

that folly in your head? Even though Marcelino worships the ground she

steps on he can never marry her. I know you have great regard for

Marcelino; believe me you would be doing him a service if you would help

to cure him of that folly."

"You said to me, Señora, a rich wife; the old medico is as poor as a

rat."

"So they say," replied Doña Josefina, "but I know that when Don Alfonso

came here he was rich; it is only a few days since that Fausto told me

so. You must not mention this to any one, but when his daughter marries,

it will be found out what he has done with his wealth."

"The medico would not have me for a son-in-law, he hates Spaniards,"

said Don Ciriaco.

"Don Alfonso fears everything; every one who can protect him is his

friend. Who can protect him better than the favourite of the Viceroy?

Leave that to me." So saying Doña Josefina rose from her chair, and

tapping her protegé on the head with her fan glided away.

Don Ciriaco gave but a passing thought to this proposition of Doña

Josefina. The man in whose opinion he wished to stand high was Don

Roderigo Ponce de Leon. He knew him to be a bitter enemy of Don Alfonso;

no alliance with the medico could thus be thought of for one moment. As

he so pondered, sitting alone under the verandah, Don Roderigo came out

from the house, and, seating himself in the chair lately vacated by Doña

Josefina, entered into conversation with him.

"His Excellency the Viceroy has told me," said Don Roderigo, "that you

led the Andaluces to his support solely for the purpose of procuring the

release of my son."

"It is true," replied Asneiros.

"It was a mistake," said Don Roderigo; "but we will say no more of it. I

do not doubt your loyalty to Spain, and I have come to put it to the

proof. I have heard from Doña Josefina that you are on intimate terms

with the family of Don Alfonso Miranda. Are you aware who he is?"

"I know nothing of him, Don Roderigo," replied Asneiros; "I have met him

sometimes at the house of Don Fausto, that is all."

"I have been misinformed then, and I am sorry; your acquaintance with

him might have been of great service to me."

"How? I will do anything I can to be of service to you, as you know, Don

Roderigo."

"You can be of service only if you are intimate with him, and visit

frequently at his quinta."

This conversation was prolonged far into the night, and resulted in the

establishment of a complete understanding between the grandee and the

soldier, one immediate result of which was, that Don Ciriaco Asneiros

received his commission as major before a week had elapsed.

* * * * *

Don Carlos Evaña had received the congratulations of Don Roderigo Ponce

de Leon upon his debut as a politician with great coldness. He seemed to

have no wish to distinguish himself further in that way, but he

surprised many of his friends by adopting a new pursuit, one for which

he had in former years shown great distaste; he became a sportsman.

The one business of his left seemed to be to plan excursions into the

country for shooting or fishing. On these expeditions he never went

alone, Marcelino Ponce de Leon was frequently with him, Don Manuel

Belgrano more frequently still, and there were other such as the Passos,

Don Juan Jose and Don Francisco, Don Nicholas Rodriguez Peña, Don Miguel

Yrigoyen, Don Antonio Beruti, and Don Agustin Donado, some of whom were

always of the party. Their favourite point of meeting when starting on

these expeditions was at the house of Dr Vieytes in the Calle Venezuela.

Often during the heat of the day when on these expeditions did they seek

shelter under the hospitable roof of Don Roderigo at the Quinta de

Ponce; not unfrequently, as the season advanced and partridge and snipe

flocked to the "boñados de Flores," which are situated about two leagues

west of the city, they would spend an hour or two on their return at the

quinta of Don Alfonso Miranda.

These excursions seemed to afford to them all great pleasure, they

looked forward to them and spoke of them with eagerness, as though they

were events of the greatest importance, yet withal the trophies of their

prowess were but meagre, and it was no unfrequent chance for them to

return with empty bags. Partridges whirred up in front of them, the

snipe piped his shrill cry and hovered before them, then flew away

unharmed. If they went fishing it not rarely happened that some unlucky

fish would hook and have full leisure to unhook himself again, ere the

careless fisherman found that the bait was gone. They were but poor

sportsmen after all, though so enthusiastic.

Dolores had many a laugh at them, telling them that she feared they

would fare but badly if they had to depend for food upon their own

exertions. And one day when Don Carlos took Magdalen a brace of snipe,

after a long day's sport in the bañados, she held them up, one in each

hand, saying merrily:

"Poor little things, how clever you must be! It took six men with guns

all day long to catch you!"

In fact, during these excursions the shooting and the fishing occupied

but a very small portion of their time, most of it was taken up in

conversation. In knots of two or three, or all in one group, they would

sit for hours by the side of a stream or under the shade of some clump

of trees, talking together. Their talk was of the events of the day, and

of the influence of these events upon the future. These friendly

sportsmen formed in reality a secret committee; one watchword they had

among them:

"America for the Americans!"

But of the meaning of this phrase there was as many opinions among them

as there were speakers.

During the year 1809, to the end of which these sporting excursions

continued, events succeeded each other with great rapidity. Each event

as it fell out was followed by an excursion, during which all its

bearings were discussed under the free air of heaven; if any

acquaintance chanced to join them, discussion ceased, and their talk was

solely of their sport.

* * * * *

Don Manuel Belgrano had taken a very prominent part in the affair of the

1st January, his conduct gained him the confidence of the Viceroy, who

after that day began to consult him on many occasions. One of the chief

difficulties of the Viceroy was the empty state of the treasury, the

consequence of his lavish expenditure. For this Don Manuel Belgrano set

himself to work to devise a remedy, and found it in free trade.

The restrictions imposed upon commerce by the Spanish colonial system

paralyzed the productive industries of her colonies. Their trade was

restricted to certain channels, marked out by the Consulado of Cadiz.

The ports of Monte Video and Buenos Aires were closed to foreign

merchants and to foreign ships.

Belgrano proposed to throw open the port of Buenos Aires to English

ships and to invite English merchants to settle there, satisfied that a

brisk trade would soon spring up, upon which a revenue might be levied

ample for all the purposes of Government. With the approval of the

Viceroy, he proceeded to draw up an extensive memorial on the subject.

Previous to submitting it to the Viceroy himself, he wished to discuss

it in detail with the members of the secret committee. In April a

shooting excursion was planned to the neighbourhood of Quilmes; Don

Manuel Belgrano was of the party, carrying his memorial with him.

It was evening, most of the sportsmen had returned to the city, but two

of them, Don Carlos Evaña and Don Manuel Belgrano, rode off together to

the Quinta de Ponce.

"Marcelino was not with you to-day," said Doña Constancia, as she sat

with her two guests under the verandah.

"No, he could not leave the city," replied Don Carlos; "I shall see him

to-morrow, have you any message for him?"

"You will not have to wait till-to-morrow, for here he comes," said

Dolores, jumping up from her chair as a horseman passed along the road,

and walking away to greet him as he dismounted.

"Is Carlos here?" asked Marcelino, as he walked with his sister to the

house after giving up his horse to a slave.

"Yes, and Don Manuel Belgrano," said Dolores; "they did not expect you,

they said you were too busy to leave the city."

"I have news. I could not have slept to-night if I had not seen Carlos

to tell him."

"It is good news, I can see by your face. Is Juan Carlos coming back?"

"No, but some one has come."

"Who?"

"Guess."

"The Princess Carlota?"

"No such luck. But what do you know of the Princess Carlota?"

"Oh! I know things. I know more than you think."

"Then as you are so wise I will tell you. A new Viceroy has come from

Spain."

"A new Viceroy!" exclaimed Dolores; then, breaking from him she ran

before him to the verandah.

"Mamma!" said she, "great news, there is a new Viceroy, who has come out

from Spain. Now we shall be all quiet again, there will be no more

quarrels, papa said so, don't you remember?"

As she spoke, Don Carlos started to his feet, and Don Manuel Belgrano,

biting his lip pressed his hand upon the breast of his coat, in the

pocket of which there was a thick roll of paper.

Marcelino, bending over his mother, kissed her, and then turned to shake

hands with his two friends, who stood silent, waiting for him to speak.

"It is true," he said, as he held their hands in his. "Last week Don

Baltazar Hidalgo de Cisneros arrived in Monte Video, bringing his

appointment by the Junta of Seville as Viceroy of Buenos Aires. When I

tell you that Don Martin Alzaga is already his confidential friend I

tell you all."

"Don Martin Alzaga! But he is in Patagones," said Doña Constancia.

"He was, mamita," said Marcelino; "but his exile was short. Elio sent an

armed vessel to rescue him and the others; he has been living at his

ease in Monte Video for nearly a month now."

"My God! Is there then war between us and Monte Video?"

"Not now, Señora," said Evaña. "This new Viceroy of ours will doubtless

soon bring us all to order and make us all good friends again."

As he spoke, another horseman came up the road, and, dismounting at the

gate, threw his reins over a post, and walked up the narrow pathway to

the house. It was Don Roderigo.

The three younger men stood in silence waiting for him, their anxiety

visible in their faces.

"Ah! Marcelino has been before me," said Don Roderigo cheerfully. "You

know the news already."

"Yes," replied Don Manuel Belgrano. "How long has this new Viceroy been

in Monte Video."

"A week. The north winds have kept the news from us till now. He was

expected in Colonia to-day."

"Then to-morrow or the next day we may expect him here," said Evaña.

"And the Junta of Monte Video?" asked Belgrano.

"It is dissolved."

"And the members imprisoned for their rebellion against the legal

authority?" asked Belgrano.

"No," replied Don Roderigo slowly; "they have not been imprisoned. Their

proceedings were ill-judged, but they were actuated by a regard for the

interests of their country, they cannot be considered as criminals."

"And now they will be the counsellors of our new Viceroy," said

Marcelino. "That may not be, Liniers will not give up his authority to

men who have shown themselves to be his enemies."

"Quietly, my son," said Don Roderigo, as Doña Constancia looked up in

alarm at Marcelino's indignant words. "Liniers is a loyal servant of

Spain, though he is a Frenchman; he will yield at once his authority to

a successor legally appointed by the Junta Central."

"Liniers holds his authority from the King of Spain; when the Junta

Central have re-established the King, then the King may cancel an

appointment which the King made," said Marcelino.

"The appointment of Liniers came from the people," said Evaña. "Are the

people to have no voice in this matter?"

"Liniers has told me of the memorial in favour of free trade, which you

had promised to draw up for him," said Don Roderigo, turning to

Belgrano, "it will now be useless so far as he is concerned, but if you

will oblige me with a copy of it I will take care that it be submitted

to the attention of the new Viceroy."

"With much pleasure, Don Roderigo," said Belgrano. "Within two days you

shall have a copy, and believe me, that if this Don Baltazar de Cisneros

seeks the real welfare of the country, he cannot inaugurate his rule

better than by opening our ports to foreign trade."

"I am perfectly of your opinion, Don Manuel," replied Don Roderigo;

"with a Spanish Viceroy, reforms are possible which could not be

entertained under the rule of a foreigner."

"You have probably seen Don Santiago Liniers to-day," said Evaña. "Does

he himself announce his intention of yielding his authority into the

hands of this new Viceroy?"

"He does. Of that there could be no question," replied Don Roderigo.

After some further conversation Don Roderigo and Doña Constancia

retired into the house, and the three friends walked away from the

verandah to the gate, where they paused, looking up and down the road

and around them, to make sure that no one was within hearing. Evaña was

the first to speak.

"America for the Americans!" said he. "Now has come the time, my

friends, for us to put our principles to the test. If this Spaniard

lands, we shall lose every advantage we have gained."

"I am not surprised that Liniers should declare his intention of

yielding at once," said Belgrano. "He always yields to the first

counsellor who gains his ear. He has shown great confidence in me for

several months past, I will go to him to-morrow, and I think I can

persuade him to put himself at the head of the people."

"You are aware that he rejected a similar proposal from me?" said Evaña.

"If he yield to Cisneros he signs his own death-warrant," said

Marcelino. "He is in no such danger then."

"I shall show him his danger," said Belgrano, "and we must also devise

means to prove to him that the people and the troops will support him."

"I can manage that easily, by a popular demonstration," said Evaña. "I

have also another piece of news to tell you, of which my father knows

nothing," said Marcelino. "A gentleman, who is nominally travelling for

amusement, has to-day arrived from Rio Janeiro, he has brought me a

letter from Don Saturnino, his name is Don Feline Contucci. He brings

for you, Belgrano, an autograph letter from the Princess Carlota, he is

in reality an emissary of hers."

"Bah!" exclaimed Evaña. "Unless we concentrate all our energies upon one

object, we lose everything."

But Marcelino and Belgrano looked at each other, and each read the

thought of the other in his glance. There was hope yet of reconciling

all differences, and of founding a new Spain in America.

* * * * *

The news of the appointment and arrival of a new Viceroy spread rapidly

through Buenos Aires, rousing in the Spaniards hope that their dominion

had not yet passed away from them; awakening in the breasts of native

Argentines something of fear, for the glamour of centuries is not to be

effaced by a year or two of light.

Days of doubt and hesitation succeeded; the new Viceroy approached

Buenos Aires with the greatest caution, sending emissaries before him to

prepare the people for his coming, and to sound the disposition of the

leading citizens and of the troops. When he at last reached Colonia it

was with such an escort, as would have befitted a general advancing upon

the capital of an enemy. Then Liniers declared openly that he had not

the slightest intention of opposing in any way the will of the Junta of

Seville and would himself aid the new Viceroy to establish his

authority. These words of the Reconquistador were sedulously spread

about the city and roused the indignation of the people. They thronged

the street in which stood the private residence of their chosen leader,

shouting that they would have none other than him to rule over them, and

calling upon him to come forth and speak to them.

"You hear the shouts of the mob?" said Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, who

was at that moment with the Viceroy. "As loud as that will they shout

'Viva Cisneros!' when Don Baltazar thinks fit to cross the river."

Then went out Don Santiago Liniers on to his balcony and spoke to the

people such words as seemed fittest to quiet them, caring nothing what

pledges he might take in their esteem, thinking nothing of the trust

they placed in him. To him they listened, and as he concluded by

requesting them to disperse, they tossed their hats in the air shouting

again:

"Viva Don Santiago Liniers! No queremos otro Virey. Viva!"

Then acceding to his request, each man retired to his own home.

Marshal Don Santiago Liniers standing on his balcony, looking at them as

they slowly dispersed, listening to their shouts and cries of confidence

and trust, words which he was never more to hear, was aware of a tall

man leaning against a door-post some fifty yards off, watching him

intently. From this man he could not withdraw his eyes, he felt

attracted to him by some deadly fascination for which he could not

account, yet there was nothing peculiar in the attitude of this man.

"Don Roderigo," said the Viceroy, stepping back into the room behind

him, "look here one moment, tell me if you know this man?"

Don Roderigo stepped onto the balcony and looked over into the street,

but the man had left his post and was walking slowly away with his back

towards them.

"Is not that Evaña?" said the Viceroy.

"Evaña? impossible!" replied Don Roderigo. "There is nothing for which

Evaña has greater contempt than for the shouts of a mob." And so saying

he went back and looked no more.

But Liniers lingered on the balcony, still fascinated by the slowly

receding figure of the tall man who had looked at him so intently. He

watched him till he reached a corner, turned it, and vanished from

sight. But it seemed to the Viceroy that, as he vanished, he turned once

more to look at him, and raised his hand in angry menace toward the

evening sky.

Still borne on the evening air from neighbouring streets came the shouts

of the citizens slowly dispersing to their homes:

"Viva Don Santiago Liniers! No queremos otro Virey. Viva!"

Listening to these shouts, the Viceroy then turned his gaze to the

evening sky toward which that figure had raised its threatening hand. To

the west, where the sun had sunk below the horizon, the sky was covered

by broad bands of scarlet and yellow, two of scarlet with one of yellow

between them, and over these there hung a dark, black cloud, sinking

lower and lower, till the crimson glories of the sunset faded away into

the darkness. Over that dark cloud the sky was of the purest blue, and

straight before him in the midst of it there shone one brilliant star.

Clutching the rail of the balcony with both hands, the Viceroy gazed

upon this star, and as he gazed again through the evening air there came

the sound of voices shouting from far off, in accents clear and

distinct, his own name. He thought of what he was about to do; again he

thought of the people who had placed their destinies in his hands, and

a sort of dreamy hallucination fell upon; he forgot that he was in

Buenos Aires, he forgot that he was Viceroy, again in memory he stood in

the streets of Paris as he had stood in his youth, and the shouts

changed from acclamations to yells of deadly menace:

"Ca ira! Les aristocrats a la lanterne."

He shivered, an unknown terror seized upon him, he averted his rapt gaze

and turned back quickly into the room. Walking to a side table he filled

a goblet with wine and drained it at a draught. As he filled the goblet,

his hand trembled so that he spilled some of the wine upon the table,

whence it flowed upon the uncarpeted floor; the rays of a lamp falling

over the spot lighted up the drops of wine as they trickled slowly from

the table, falling upon the floor in great red splashes like drops of

blood. Liniers started back covering his face with his hands.

"What is the matter with you, Don Santiago?" said a friendly voice in

his ear. "Let us dine, for all is ready and we have no time to lose."

* * * * *

Two hours after nightfall three men, muffled in large cloaks, left the

fort by the postern gate, and walked away towards the beach, where a

boat awaited them. He who walked in the centre was Don Santiago Liniers;

they who attended him were Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon and Don Martin

Rodriguez, confidential friends, who had counselled him to set at nought

the will of the people, who had made him Viceroy. The three men reached

the boat without molestation, stepped into it, and were rowed to a small

armed vessel, which immediately weighed anchor, spread her sails to the

wind, and steered for Colonia.

The next morning, as Don Baltazar de Cisneros, in a loose dressing-gown,

was imbibing his morning cup of coffee, an aide-de-camp came hurriedly

into the room, announcing the approach of the Señor Mariscal Don

Santiago Liniers. Cisneros started up from his chair, in his alarm

dropping his cup onto the floor.

"Liniers!" exclaimed he, "with what force?"

"Two friends are with him," replied the aide-de-camp.

The next moment Liniers stood in the doorway, a smile curled his lip as

he saw the agitation of his rival, and the broken cup lying on the floor

at his feet. For a minute the two Viceroys stood looking intently one at

the other, then they mutually advanced, and opening their arms embraced

like brothers.

Some hours later Don Baltazar de Cisneros walked on the azotea of his

house in earnest conversation with Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon. "I have

been informed that I can place implicit confidence in you," said Don

Baltazar, "and that your counsel may be of great service to me."

Don Roderigo bowed and replied:

"I trust I may merit your confidence, Don Baltazar, and it is not

unlikely that I may be of service to you. I have lived half my life in

Buenos Aires, and am intimately acquainted with most of the leading

citizens. In any way in which I can aid you, you may securely count upon

me."

"So I was given to understand before I left Spain," answered Don

Baltazar. "I will give you a proof of my confidence by telling you my

secret instructions and asking your advice as to how I can carry them

out. In the first place I am instructed to send Liniers under arrest to

Spain, and to disarm the native militia of Buenos Aires. I see great

difficulties in the way of accomplishing either of these two clauses in

my instructions."

"They are neither of them to be thought of at present," said Don

Roderigo. "Don Santiago Liniers is immensely popular, not only in Buenos

Aires, but throughout the provinces, his arrest would provoke an open

rebellion against which we should be powerless. You must make use of his

popularity to establish your own authority, and at the same time seize

every opportunity of undermining that popularity, which is a great

source of danger to us. To disarm the militia is at present a simple

impossibility, thanks to the thick-headedness of Don Martin Alzaga."

"What steps would you then advise me to take? You say that the

excitement of the populace in Buenos Aires is so great that it would

hardly be safe for me to cross the river?"

"Your presence in Buenos Aires would ruin everything. I would advise you

to send a delegate in your name to take command of the troops, and leave

the nominal authority for a time in the hands of Don Santiago Liniers.

In a month or two when this excitement has cooled down, you may safely

come to us, and you will find everything prepared for your reception."

"Ha! Don Santiago," said Cisneros, as Liniers ascended to the azotea,

and came towards them, "I have been talking with Don Roderigo, and find

that his opinion is the same as yours, that it would be unsafe for me to

cross over to Buenos Aires as yet."

"Your Excellency may have perfect confidence in the wisdom of any advice

given you by Don Roderigo," said Liniers.

"Not less confidence than I have in your experience and loyalty, Don

Santiago," replied Cisneros. "Your services are highly appreciated in

Spain, and it will be a fresh claim upon the liberality of the Junta if

you will consent to retain your office for a month or two longer, by

which time you will be able to smooth matters sufficiently for me to

resume the reins of government myself."

"I fear your Excellency overrates my influence with the citizens of

Buenos Aires."

"Not in the least, Don Santiago," said Don Roderigo; "I have explained

the matter to his Excellency, and we have both the fullest confidence in

you. It is to you alone that the Junta can look for the establishment of

its authority in Buenos Aires."

"The Junta will have no cause to find their confidence misplaced,"

replied Liniers.

* * * * *

Two days after this, Don Santiago Liniers returned to Buenos Aires,

taking with him General Nieto, who held a commission from the new

Viceroy as commandant-general of all the forces of Spain in the

viceroyalty of Buenos Aires.

The two Viceroys separated with great cordiality on both sides, and with

mutual expressions of esteem and confidence.

CHAPTER II

THE TERTULIA AT THE HOUSE OF MY LADY JOSEFINA

The return of Marshal Liniers to Buenos Aires, quieted the excitement of

the people, which had risen to a dangerous pitch, but did nothing to

allay the distrust of Liniers which was felt by the members of the

secret committee.

A shooting excursion was at once planned by Don Carlos Evaña to the

bañados of Flores. On this occasion not one member of the committee was

absent. Seated under a clump of trees close to a deserted rancho, their

guns unloaded, their dogs lying lazily stretched out in the sunshine,

they discussed the topic of the day, the avowed intention of Marshal

Liniers to surrender his power into the hands of Don Baltazar de

Cisneros, the assumption by General Nieto of the command of the native

troops.

The sun was sinking towards the horizon, when their dogs became uneasy,

and, leaving them, went up to the deserted rancho, snuffing round the

walls, some of them barking furiously.

"What is the matter with the dogs?" said Evaña impatiently.

"An opossum or a skunk, or some such beast," said Belgrano.

"I'll have a look," said Beruti, starting to his feet.

Round the rancho he walked but could see nothing, while the dogs became

more furious in their clamour. He tried the door but it was fast shut,

and he could find no means of opening it.

"That door was open," said Marcelino, "when we came, for I went in and

looked through the rancho, and it was empty."

"Let us go," said Dr Vieytes. "It is late already and I think we have

decided that we can do nothing until we have secured the troops."

"I will first see what is in that rancho," said Evaña, taking up his

gun.

Walking up to the door of the rancho he tried it, as Beruti had done

before him. He could not open it, it was evidently fastened on the

inside. He raised his gun in both hands and struck a furious blow with

the butt upon the side-panel of the door. The stock of the gun broke

short off, leaving a useless iron tube in his hands, but the door

remained uninjured.

Perhaps it was as well for you, Don Carlos Evaña, that you did not

succeed in bursting open that door. Behind it, in darkness, stood a man

who held a cocked pistol in each hand. Had you crossed the threshold of

that door, you would never have recrossed it alive.

"What are you doing, Carlos?" said Marcelino, seizing him by the arm.

"Come, we have belayed here too long already."

"Come! come, Evaña!" shouted the others; "we may shoot a few birds as we

go back."

"And we have need of special caution just now lest we excite suspicion,"

said Marcelino.

Evaña stopped, picked up the broken stock, and walked slowly away after

the others, every now and then looking back upon the rancho, and never

losing sight of it till they were free from the bañado and on the high

road for the city.

"Do not let us go on to town yet; let us go to the quinta and see

Magdalen," said Evaña to Marcelino, as they reached the Plaza Miserere.

"I have forgotten how the tea tastes out of her porcelain cups."

"Let us go," rejoined Marcelino; yet his eye did not brighten as he

acceded to the proposition of his friend, and something very like a sigh

issued from his lips.

"My brother, you are sad," said Evaña, stretching out his hand and

laying it upon his shoulder. "Do Magdalen's grey eyes look less kindly

upon you than they did formerly."

"Magdalen's grey eyes never look upon me now, Carlos. She shuns me, all

our old intimacy is at an end. What I have done to offend her I do not

know, for I have spoken to her and she refuses me any explanation."

"Let us follow the others," said Evaña.

"No, let us go on," replied Marcelino; "she will talk to you, and her

voice is music to me still."

They found Magdalen alone, seated by the fireside, busily sewing. Her

eyes brightened for a moment as they fell upon Don Carlos Evaña, who was

the first to enter the room, but the light in them died away as she saw

Marcelino enter behind him. In silence she stretched out her hand to

each of them, without rising from her chair.

"Papa is in the quinta," she said, as they seated themselves without

invitation. "Or perhaps he may have walked up the road to meet Don

Ciriaco, who said he would be back before dark."

"Don Ciriaco comes very often to see you now," said Marcelino.

"He is more constant in his friendships than some gentlemen I know,"

replied Magdalen. "It is months since you were last here, Don Carlos."

"Not months, Señorita," replied Evaña, "but weeks; when I have been here

I have generally met Don Ciriaco, who is a gentleman whose friendship I

have no wish to cultivate."

"Papa and Doña Josefina think very highly of him, and they know him

better than you do, Don Carlos. You have been out shooting to-day in the

bañados, have you not? What did you shoot?"

"Nothing; I broke my gun, but the others have some birds in their bags."

"I was on the azotea, and saw you passing this morning. Did you not meet

Don Ciriaco?"

"No. Did he go out shooting too?"

"Not when you did, but he came here in the afternoon, and when I told

him I had seen you pass he said he would go and join you, but how he is

to shoot without a gun I do not know. Papa offered to lend him his, but

he went without it, and alone on foot."

To this Evaña answered nothing, but sat biting the ends of his

moustache, while Marcelino twirled his hat round between his fingers,

looking upon the ground in silence.

"If you had let me break open the door of that rancho we should have

found a skunk inside," said Evaña.

"It is quite possible," replied Marcelino.

"A skunk!" said Magdalen. "And in a rancho! If you had found one what

would you have done with it?"

"Shot him," replied Evaña.