Don Alfonso Miranda had walked up the road, but he returned alone, and

Magdalen made tea for them in her porcelain cups. All the evening

Marcelino and Evaña waited, at every sound they looked towards the door,

and there was a constraint over them all, but Don Ciriaco did not come

back, at which Magdalen expressed her surprise, but her father said

nothing.

When their guests had at last taken their departure, Don Alfonso called

to Magdalen to come and sit by him. She seated herself in her favourite

low chair, and recommenced her sewing without making any remark.

Presently her father spoke to her.

"This Don Marcelino does not often now trouble us with his presence,

Chica," he said; then he paused as though he expected a reply, but none

came, and he continued:

"He seems almost as keen a sportsman as our friend Don Carlos, and when

he is not shooting birds I suppose he has all his time pretty well taken

up paying court to the fair Elisa. When a man chooses the prettiest girl

in the city for his lady-love he does well to keep a strict watch on all

rivals."

"Are they to be married soon?" asked Magdalen, with the greatest

composure.

"I know nothing about it, I never troubled my head with such matters,"

replied Don Alfonso. "Who told you that they were to be married?"

"No one; but Doña Josefina said one day----I don't know what she said,

something, but what does it matter?"

"It is about time for me to think of finding a husband for you Chica."

"Oh! don't say that, please don't papa," said Magdalen, for the first

time that evening showing any animation, "I don't want to marry."

"All girls say that," replied Don Alfonso, "but the most of them do

marry for all that."

"Some don't," said Magdalen.

"And some find husbands for themselves, without waiting for their

fathers to find them for them, as they ought to do. There is a gentleman

comes here very often who does not come to see me. What do you think he

comes here for, Chica?" said Don Alfonso, with something of tenderness

in his tone.

"I don't know what you mean, papa," said Magdalen, flushing scarlet.

"Ah ha! Chica! You think that we old folks have not our eyes about us.

You know who I mean, you need not tremble, for I am not angry, for he is

a gallant soldier, and if you would like him for a husband I should be

proud to call him my son. You must not expect me to get a rich husband

for you, for I am poor, very poor."

"But, papa, he does not often come here now, and----" here Magdalen

stopped in confusion for she hardly knew what she was saying.

"Not come here often!" said Don Alfonso, laughing; "why he was here

three times last week and again to-day. Do you want him to come every

day, Chica?"

"Who are you talking about, papa? Here to-day! and three times last

week, no one comes here so often but Don Ciriaco Asneiros."

"Don Ciriaco, the gallant major, who is winning his way up from grade to

grade, who is the confidential friend of Marshal Liniers, and who will

soon be one of the most powerful men in Buenos Aires. Of whom else

should I speak but of him? Why does he come here so often if it is not

to see you, and who is there that talks to you so much as he does?"

"Don Ciriaco!" exclaimed Magdalen, and she hung her head in

bewilderment. It was true as her father said that he came very often,

true also that when others were there he almost monopolised her

conversation, but he had never given her the slightest reason to believe

that he had any tender feeling for her, in fact he made no secret to her

of his boundless admiration for her friend Dolores Ponce de Leon, and

she had felt pity for him, and had shown it to him in many ways, for she

saw that he had small hope that his love would ever be returned, and she

thought herself that it was utterly impossible that it should be so. So

she had felt pity for him, and had shown him great sympathy and

consideration, for was she not also indulging in a hopeless love. Now

her father spoke to her of him as a possible husband. She thought of

some jesting words which Doña Josefina had said to her not many weeks

ago, concerning the success of a gallant soldier who both in war and in

love carried everything before him. These words had dyed her own cheeks

crimson, as she thought of a soldier who was to her the impersonation of

all that was brave and noble, but could it be possible that Doña

Josefina had meant quite another man, no other than this Don Ciriaco?

Then she began to hate this Don Ciriaco, and to think of the awkward

manners and of the rude speech which had made him a laughing-stock to

the polished youth among whom she had first met him at the house of Doña

Josephina.

Don Alfonso waited for a space to see what answer his daughter would

give him, but as he got no further reply than that one exclamation, Don

Ciriaco! he spoke again.

"And why not Don Ciriaco?" said he. "Why have you encouraged him to come

here so often to see you if you are to be frightened when I speak about

him?"

"Don Ciriaco, papa! Don Ciriaco never came here to see me. If no one

else is here he always talks to you, and if he comes when you are out he

always waits till you come back. He comes to see you, papa, he thinks

much about you, he talks more to me about you than about anything else.

He seems never to be tired of listening when I talk to him about you."

"About me!" exclaimed Don Alfonso, startled. "What can you find to tell

him about me?"

"Hundreds of things, papa. You have no idea what strange questions he

asks me at times."

"What questions? Tell me what questions he asks you?"

"If you are away he always asks me where you have gone, and how long you

have been away, and when you will be back. And he always wants to know

all about every one who comes to see you, especially about Don Carlos

Evaña, and what he comes to see you for, and what he talks to you about.

Several times he has asked me if you get any letters from Europe or from

Rio Janeiro. I think he is very rude to ask me such questions, I have

told him so more than once and have refused to answer him, but he will

ask them, I suppose he knows no better. Some of the young men at Doña

Josefina's used to call him the barbarian."

"And does he never speak to you about--about--does he never talk

love-nonsense to you?"

"Never, papa, I assure you. If he had, I should have known better than

to listen to him."

Then Don Alfonso bowed his head on his hands and spoke no more to his

daughter, sitting motionless in his chair for more than an hour, and

when he at last raised his head, and rose from his seat to retire to his

own room, Magdalen saw again on his face that old shadow of care and

anxiety which had vanished from it during the last few months.

"If not a tyrant, then a traitor, so is every Spaniard," said Don

Alfonso as Magdalen lifted up her face to his for a kiss before

retiring.

As Magdalen lay down to rest, she buried her face in her pillow, longing

to cry, but the tears would not come. Her sleep was troubled; in the

morning she rose unrefreshed with a vague fear of something dreadful

impending. The day passed quietly, just as other days did, and in the

evening came Don Ciriaco, who was received by Don Alfonso with more than

usual cordiality, but Magdalen pleaded a headache and hardly spoke to

him at all.

A week after this, Doña Josefina Viana de Velasquez had one evening a

numerous company in her sala. The occasion was a tertulia, an undress

ball, given in welcome to her niece Constancia who had returned to the

city after spending the summer at her quinta. At least such was the

pretext announced for the tertulia, but Doña Josefina and her husband

Don Fausto were fond of indulging their hospitable tastes and delighted

to fill their rooms with young people and to give due scope to the

flirting propensities of their friends, flirtation being in the opinion

of the lady the most important business of life.

Some few days before this tertulia, she had paid a visit to Don Alfonso

Miranda at his quinta, and noticing that Magdalen looked pale and out of

spirits, had taken her back with her to spend some days in the city.

This day of the tertulia was also the day for one of the shooting

excursions of the secret committee, and Doña Constancia told her aunt

that she did not think Marcelino would be there that evening. But

Marcelino heard that day from Evaña that Magdalen was staying with Doña

Josefina; he hurried back to town, determined not to lose such an

opportunity of conversing at his ease with her, away from the watchful

eyes and often sneering words of her father. For months he had missed

the smile of welcome with which she had been wont to greet him, and

report had told him that the heart which he had once fondly thought was

his had been given to another. He resolved to know all that evening, at

the house of his aunt Josefina.

It was late when he entered the sala, the first person he met as he went

in was Elisa Puyrredon. He and the fair Elisa had been playmates

together when they were children; his little playmate was now a

beautiful woman, with whom romping games were things of the far-off

past. Yet the frank cordiality of her friendship for him had left him

nothing to regret.

One jesting compliment Marcelino exchanged with the fair Elisa, and then

went up to salute his aunt.

"How cruel of you to leave Elisa to herself," said Doña Josefina; "do

not you see they are just going to dance?"

"I have been shooting all day, aunt, I had rather talk to you than

dance."

"Stupid!" said she.

But Marcelino hardly heard the remark, looking eagerly all round the

large saloon for a face that he could not see, yet Magdalen, for whom he

was looking, was close to him. She had seen, him enter the room, seen

him speak to Elisa Puyrredon, and had then retired into the deep recess

of a window as he approached to speak with Doña Josefina.

"For whom are you looking? She is there where you left her," said Doña

Josefina.

"Yes, I see she is, aunt, but she is going to dance with Valentin."

"With Valentin! I will soon arrange that for you. Give me your arm, I

have been looking for Valentin all evening."

So Marcelino was walked off by his aunt, and presently found himself

dancing with Elisa Puyrredon.

Don Ciriaco Asneiros had taken so much trouble to ingratiate himself

with Don Alfonso Miranda, and had succeeded so well by the assistance of

Doña Josefina, that that lady made sure one of her schemes would end

successfully. She was therefore greatly chagrined when she learned from

Don Alfonso, on the occasion of her last visit to the Miserere, that her

plan of marrying her protegé to Magdalen was likely to fall through. Don

Alfonso had spoken to her vaguely of a certain distrust of the motives

of Don Ciriaco for his repeated visits to the quinta, but Doña Josefina

had found no great difficulty in laughing him out of his suspicions, she

herself had no doubt whatever of the reasons which took that gallant

officer so often to the Plaza Miserere. She had twitted him once or

twice upon the subject, and all his answers had tended to prove to her

that he had quite given up any hopes he might ever have formed of

winning the love of her niece Dolores, and now thought only of

Magdalen. Thus she treated him with greater favour than ever and began

to take some real interest in him, for his manners had greatly improved

under her tuition. He was high in favour with Marshal Liniers and with

Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, and General Nieto seemed to place great

confidence in him; her pupil was evidently a man who would do her

credit.

Of all this Doña Josefina was thinking to herself as she watched her

nephew dancing with Elisa Puyrredon, flattering herself that she was

managing very well for the happiness of all concerned.

"Once we dispose of Magdalen, all will come right," said she to herself;

"even of Carlos I do not despair, thought I confess both he and Dolores

are a puzzle to me."

When this dance was over Marcelino left his fair partner and renewed his

search for Magdalen, whom he found seated by herself, looking with

lustreless eyes upon the gay scene about her, as though her thoughts

were far away. His cordial words of greeting brought no smile to her

face, to his questions she answered only in monosyllables, and when he

asked her to dance she declined, saying that she was too tired. As he

seated himself beside her, she rose, saying something about Doña

Josefina, and went to where that lady was sitting and spoke to her.

"What nonsense, Niña," said Doña Josefina. "I did not bring you into

town to mope yourself in your room, you can do that at the quinta. Come,

I know what you want, you have hardly danced at all, if you won't dance

to please yourself you must dance to please me. Here is a great

favourite of mine coming, I don't dance, you will dance with him for me,

won't you?"

Before Magdalen could answer, Don Ciriaco Asneiros stood before her,

bowing low and asking for her company in the next dance. Doña Josefina

answered for her, and she felt obliged to go. As they took their place

Don Ciriaco began talking to her of Dolores, a subject on which she was

ever ready to listen, and more so now than ever, for she had not seen

Dolores for months till that evening, and when she had met her, Dolores

seemed strangely cold to her and had hardly spoken to her three words.

Marcelino remained in the dancing-saloon for some minutes exchanging

salutations and compliments with such of his acquaintance as passed near

him, but keeping his eye constantly upon one couple who were in earnest

conversation together. He saw the dull, vacant look disappear from

Magdalen's face, a faint colour came into her cheeks, and----he waited

to see no more, he bowed his head as though in answer to some unspoken

question, and with his lips firmly pressed together left the room.

While the more youthful friends of Doña Josefina's were amusing

themselves by dancing, Don Fausto and some more particular friends of

his had retired to the dining-room. The large table running down the

centre of this room was covered with salvers and dishes of sweetmeats,

and with trays on which stood tall water-jars, surrounded by glass

goblets of very varied design. Such was the refreshment provided by the

abstemious Porteños for their friends on such an occasion as the

present. In the intervals between the dances, servants waited upon the

dancers, handing round these sweetmeats, which they ate from small

plates with spoons, then other servants followed with the trays covered

with goblets of water. Doña Josefina pressed the sweetmeats upon her

friends, telling them that after eating they might drink water with

safety. At one time during the evening chocolate was handed round, but

there were no edibles of more solid description. On the dining-room

table there were also jugs of claret, and bottles of the more fiery

wines of Spain, but these were reserved for the use of such friends of

Don Fausto as cared not for dancing.

When Marcelino entered the dining-room, Don Fausto with several of his

friends were collected in a small knot at the end of the room; all

looked round as he entered, and their conversation ceased.

"I give you welcome, Marcelino," said Don Fausto. "Shut the door and

come here."

Don Fausto stood leaning against the table, in front of him sat Don

Gregorio Lopez, beside him stood his son the Colonel, several others

stood around. Don Juan Martin Puyrredon was speaking as Marcelino

entered, and resumed as soon as the door was again closed.

"It comes to this," said he; "the excitement of the people has warned

off our new Viceroy for a time, but that will pass. With the troops

under the command of General Nieto, the influence of Marshal Liniers

will be slowly undermined. Liniers himself has been cajoled by promises,

the disorders in the interior will afford a pretext for the

reorganisation of Spanish troops. What say you, Señores? Are we to

welcome this Cisneros amongst us, and give ourselves up again to the

rule of such men as Elio and Don Martin Alzaga?"

"We have had enough of them," said Colonel Lopez. "Now has come the time

for us to demand our due share in the administration. What want we with

Viceroys who are sent from Spain? There are men amongst us who know well

how to lead us if Don Santiago persists in retiring."

"Quietly, my son," said Don Gregorio, "without Spaniards there is no

organisation among us. Let us seek by every means in our power to

conciliate such Spaniards as are friendly to us."

"We can do well enough without a Viceroy," said Don Juan Martin; "but we

want experienced soldiers for our security, of whom there are many among

the Spaniards; and we want a governing Junta, in which Spaniards of

experience would naturally form the majority, but that the Junta of

Seville should choose a Viceroy for us is, in my opinion, degradation to

us."

"A Junta!" exclaimed Marcelino; "that was the idea of Don Martin

Alzaga."

"And the idea was not a bad one if we had had no Viceroy, but at that

time we had one," replied Don Juan Martin. "Don Santiago Liniers was

then the legally-appointed representative of the King of Spain; but

there is now no King in Spain. Each province in Spain has its Junta, we

have an equal right to have a Junta of our own."

"Now that Liniers deserts us we remain without a legal head to the

government," said Don Gregorio.

"In all the year of the English invasion we were in the same position,

and it appears to me that we were none the worse for it," said Colonel

Lopez.

Then others entered the room, and the conversation became more guarded.

When Marcelino returned to the sala he found his friend Evaña, who had

told him that he was not going to the tertulia, standing in a doorway

strangely excited.

"I have been looking for you, I could not see you anywhere. Come with

me, I have news for you, which I am afraid will pain you greatly, but I

could not keep it from you." So saying Evaña led the way into a small

ante-room where they could talk undisturbed.

"What was the name of the vessel in which our friend Gordon was about to

sail for Lisbon, when he last wrote you?" asked Evaña.

"The sloop-of-war _Petrel_," replied Marcelino.

"I thought I was correct," said Evaña; then drawing an English newspaper

from his pocket he added:

"I have just received this, read."

Marcelino took the paper and read the paragraph to which Evaña had

pointed; as he read his eyes glazed over. He read an account of how

H.B.M. sloop-of-war _Petrel_, with a detachment of troops on board for

the army then assembling at Lisbon, and with several officers, who were

on their way to rejoin their regiments, had been totally lost on the

coast of Galicia, two boats' crews only escaping. To this was appended a

list of the names of the survivors. Eagerly Marcelino scanned that list,

but the name of his friend Gordon was not among them. A strange calmness

came over him; half an hour before he had felt wild and reckless under

the pressure of a sorrow of his own, now he thought only of the sorrow

this news would give to another, and that other, his own dearly-loved

sister.

"Do not let any one see this paper, do not mention it to any one, it may

not be true after all, he may have escaped."

Evaña tore the paragraph, from the paper, and twisting it up, burned it

in the flame of a taper.

In the ante-room Marcelino remained alone, moodily thinking of what he

had heard and seen that evening; but Evaña returned to the sala, and

seeking out Dolores was especially attentive to her, even once to her

great surprise dancing with her. When he spoke to her his voice had a

soft tenderness in it which she had never heard before. Don Gregorio

Lopez and several others came and spoke with him, whispering to him that

they had matter of much moment to impart to him, but he resisted all

their attempts to draw him from her side. His thoughts were far from

politics, far from all that had been hitherto the business of his life,

he had given himself up to an intoxicating dream of love, he was a prey

to the glamour of hope.

CHAPTER III

LA JUNTA DE LOS COMANDANTES

The affair of the 1st January had resulted in giving Don Manuel Belgrano

so much else to think of, that he left the project of inviting the

Princess Carlota to Buenos Aires, very much in abeyance during the early

month of the year, until the arrival of Don Felipe Contucci aroused his

dormant zeal. He introduced Don Felipe to many of the leading citizens,

and to such of them as were in his confidence, he unfolded the purpose

of his visit. Above all he considered that it was necessary to gain the

concurrence of Don Cornelio Saavedra whose position at that time gave

him an influence in Buenos Aires, second only to that of Marshal

Liniers.

Many conferences had Belgrano and Saavedra together, in which the ideas

of the latter underwent a gradual change, till Don Manuel became

sanguine of ultimate success.

One evening in June Don Manuel Belgrano sat alone in his study,

anxiously awaiting a visit from Don Cornelio, and prepared to concert

with him some decisive step. His servant threw open the door,

announcing:

"El Señor Don Juan Martin Puyrredon."

It was not he whom he expected, and his disappointment showed itself in

his face.

"You are waiting for some one?" said Don Juan Martin.

"Yes, Don Cornelio Saavedra promised to visit me this evening," replied

Belgrano. "I think I have at length persuaded him that the best solution

of our differences will be to invite the Princess Carlota to take the

supreme government of the Viceroyalty into her hands."

"There is no longer any question of the Princess," said Puyrredon. "At

eleven o'clock this evening all the military commandants of the city,

both Spaniards and native, will meet at my house. It appears that this

Cisneros will not much longer put off his arrival, Liniers will do

nothing to hinder him. But he shall not come here, we have had enough of

these Viceroys from Spain. To-night we meet to concert measures for a

totally new order of affairs."

Belgrano started to his feet, his face glowing with animation. If the

leaders of the troops were only united, there was no longer any

impediment to the immediate assertion of independence.

"You invite me to join you?" he asked.

"I do. Your military rank entitles you to a place among us, and it is

not sufficient that we have the soldiery with us, we also wish the

concurrence of the people, in this you may give us most powerful aid.

Marcelino Ponce de Leon has also promised to be with us."

"And Don Carlos Evaña, will he be there?"

"No, I have not asked him. There are many Spaniards with us, and Don

Carlos will never agree cordially with any plan in which Spaniards are

included."

Then the enthusiasm of Don Manuel cooled down considerably, yet he

promised Don Juan Martin that he would be at his house at the hour he

had named.

Puyrredon departed, and Belgrano was again alone, and so he remained,

until it wanted little more than an hour of midnight, pondering deeply

within himself. Native chiefs and Spanish soldiers, Evaña, who was as

the soul of the fiery youth of Buenos Aires, shut out from the

conference; from this what could result? Nevertheless, Belgrano had

faith in the future of his own country, and having faith he hoped, and

hoping he put on his hat and cloak and sallied forth through darkness to

the house of Don Juan Martin Puyrredon, who, as commandant of the

cavalry on the 12th August, 1806, had won for himself a place in the

first rank of the military leaders of Buenos Aires.

All the commandants of the city militia, many commandants of the cavalry

of the campaña, several of the chiefs of the Spanish troops, which had

been disbanded in January and several of the leading citizens were there

assembled; as also some whose only claim to be there was the distinction

they had won during the two invasions of the English. Among those men

were Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon and his former lieutenant, Don Ciriaco

Asneiros.

The presence of such Spaniards as Don Ciriaco introduced at once an

element of discord into the conference. These men were ready to support

any project, however extravagant, that might be proposed, but to the

welfare of the country they gave not a moment's consideration; they

thought only of their own advancement, and welcomed the idea of a civil

war, in which they might sell their services to the highest bidder.

The conference had lasted two hours, and it seemed impossible for them

to come to any understanding together, when Don Ciriaco stepped forward,

and placing himself in front of Don Juan Martin Puyrredon said:

"Promise me the post of Inspector-general of arms and I will guarantee

to raise 2000 men in a week; I will cross over into the Banda Oriental,

seize Monte Video, and will shoot Cisneros and Elio for you in the

Plaza, then you can make whatever government you like."

Don Juan Martin started back as though he had been struck, and

consternation was visible upon the faces of most of the native

Argentines, but several of the Spaniards laughed.

"Traitor!" exclaimed Marcelino, seizing Don Ciriaco by the collar and

drawing him back, "think you that we are assassins?"

The Spanish major laid his hand on his sword, but Don Manuel Belgrano

stepped in between them.

"See you not, Marcelino," said he, "that this is a joke? This good

gentleman wishes to show us that all the plans that have been proposed

are alike impossible of fulfilment."

"A joke!" said Asneiros, turning sullenly away.

After this there was no more discussion, the conference broke up, and by

two or singly the members separated to their own homes.

Marcelino and Don Manuel Belgrano walked away together.

"If Evaña had been present we might have arrived at some resolution,"

said Marcelino; "but with these men of the sword it is useless to

discuss anything."

"With Evaña it would have been impossible to come to any arrangement

with the Spanish officers, and without their concurrence any plan we

might devise would most certainly entail a civil war," replied Belgrano.

"We might have striven to conciliate them, but to admit them to our

conference was folly," said Marcelino. "What ideas have they but such as

Don Ciriaco was bold enough to proclaim?"

"That was absurd; that was nothing but a joke," said Belgrano.

"A joke!" said Marcelino; "I fear me much some of us may find the whole

affair something more than a joke."

* * * * *

When Don Ciriaco Asneiros left the conference he walked quietly away to

his own quarters, but before sunrise, in the dress of a private soldier,

he stood at the bedside of General Nieto.

The following afternoon Don Juan Martin Puyrredon was arrested in his

own house and taken to the barracks of the Patricios, where he was

placed in solitary confinement, and no one was allowed to visit him.

The news of his arrest spread consternation through the city, and

brought sorrow and fear into many a household; to none more than into

the household of the Señor Saenz-Valiente, whose wife, Doña Juana, was

the sister of Don Juan Martin. That night and the next morning Marshal

Liniers was besieged on all sides by applications for him to interfere

and procure the release of the prisoner, but to all alike he turned a

deaf ear. Even to Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, who represented to him

that he was likely to bring odium upon the rule of the new Viceroy, and

so endanger the very existence of Spanish authority, he had but one

answer, that the affair was none of his, and that doubtless General

Nieto had sufficient reasons for what he had done, and would in due time

declare them.

It was about two hours past noon when Don Roderigo left the Viceroy.

Instead of going himself to tell Doña Juana of the non-success of his

mission, he sought out his son, and commissioned him to tell her of it.

Marcelino found Doña Juana and her sister, with Doña Josefina and Doña

Constancia, who had spent all the morning with them, sympathising and

encouraging their hopes, though every hour brought intelligence of some

fresh failure. When Marcelino announced his message, their last ray of

hope vanished, for if Don Roderigo could not prevail upon Marshal

Liniers to interfere, they well knew that all other intercession was

useless.

Elisa Puyrredon burst into tears, and Doña Constancia, bending over her,

endeavoured in vain to soothe her, tears trickling down from her own

eyes also, in sympathy. Doña Josefina clasped her hands tightly

together, and composed herself into a most fascinating attitude of

despair, but Doña Juana listened as Marcelino spoke, in tearless

silence. As he paused she rose from her seat, tossing back her head, and

drawing up her stately figure to its full height.

"Now that the men can do nothing," said she, "it remains for us to do

what we can, and in our way. Will you accompany me, Marcelino?"

"With pleasure, Señora; it will be an honour for me to attend you

wherever you may choose to lead me."

Five minutes afterwards Doña Juana and Marcelino left the house

together. Three squares they walked in silence towards the Plaza Mayor,

then Marcelino made as though he would turn a corner, saying:

"This way, Señora, is the shortest."

"No," replied the lady, "let us keep straight on."

"Are you not going to the fort?" said Marcelino.

"No, to the barracks of the Patricios."

The courtyard of the barracks was crowded with soldiers. In addition to

the detachment ordinarily on guard, nearly all the officers of the

regiment, and many officers from other native regiments had met there

that afternoon to talk over the affair of the arrest, which was the

engrossing topic throughout the city. They were soldiers, and were

accustomed to obey orders without question. They had lodged their

prisoner in a strong room, posting sentries and guarding him securely,

nevertheless they liked not that their barracks should be turned into a

prison, and that they should be appointed gaolers over one of the most

distinguished of their fellow-citizens.

As they talked together, there stood in their midst a stately lady, who

looked round upon them with an air of great disdain. They doffed their

hats to her, and looked upon her with sympathising eyes, for many of

them recognised her as the sister of the prisoner they held in durance.

But she still looked haughtily upon them and returned not their

salutation, merely waving her hand to them to keep silence.

"Fellow-citizens!" she said, "I have come among you to know if that be

true which men have told me of you. Men tell me that you are no longer

the gallant soldiers who in the day of danger stood foremost of all to

confront the onset of a mighty foe, shedding your blood and offering up

your lives willingly in the defence of your homes and fatherland. Men

tell me that you are no longer the heroes on whom your country can look

with pride, to whom she may look with confidence for the securing of her

rights and liberties. Men tell me that you are now no more than the

trained minions of a despot, and are the gaolers of such of your

fellow-citizens as dare to entertain the thought of the complete

liberation of their country. Can this be true?

"I look around me and I see in your faces the answer. You are the same

gallant soldiers that you were two years ago, you are not the men to

whom a despot can entrust the execution of his tyrannical designs! You

are Argentines, and are as ready as ever you were to shed your blood in

defence of the country which is equally dear to us all. You are citizens

as well as soldiers, and the rights and liberties of your country are as

dear to you as they are to any.

"How is it, then, that you allow your barracks to be turned into a

prison? How is it that you, who are gallant soldiers, constitute

yourselves the gaolers of the most noble amongst you all?

"He is your friend and your fellow-countryman, he whom you keep shut up

within four walls, with barred windows shutting out from him the light

of heaven, with a locked door and armed sentries shutting him out from

all communication with those who love him. He is your friend and

fellow-countryman, I say, whom here you keep locked up, over whom you

keep watch and ward as though he were a dangerous enemy; he who in the

day of danger was as forward as the bravest amongst you!

"What accusation, what charge has been brought against him? None that I

know of, save that he has dared to love his country, and to plan how

best to secure to you those liberties which you have won with your

blood, and which are the inborn right of every freeman. Yet for this he

is imprisoned, for this he may be brought up to judgment and sentenced

to some fearful punishment, such as is reserved for those who are

traitors.

"Citizens, will you consent to this? Will you consent that he, your

friend, your fellow-countryman, be sacrificed to the cruel injustice of

a despotic ruler?

"No, Patricios! I know you better, you will not permit that this eternal

shame fall upon you. You will let my brother escape, so shall you

preserve unstained those laurels which you have no nobly won."

Doña Juana paused and looked around her; no man spoke, but in the eyes

turned upon her from all sides, in sympathy and in admiration, she read

their answer, and knew that her brother was saved. She clasped her hands

together in mute thanks, bowed her head courtesying lowly to them, then

turned, and passing her arm through Marcelino's, walked swiftly away.

The tears stood in Marcelino's eyes, but he spoke not one word till he

had conducted Doña Juana back to the shelter of her own roof, then as

she, speechless also, stretched out her hand to take leave of him, he

knelt down on one knee before her and raised that hand to his lips,

paying homage to her as he might have done to a queen.

From the house of the Señor Saenz-Valiente, Marcelino went straight to

that of Don Manuel Belgrano, and with him speedily concerted means for

securing the safety of Don Juan Martin in case he should effect his

escape.

* * * * *

Shortly before sundown that evening, the door of the room in which Don

Juan Martin was confined, opened and an officer walked in, told him that

he was required to change his quarters. Don Juan Martin rose and

followed the officer, who was attended by a guard with fixed bayonets,

to another chamber far less comfortably furnished than the one he had

previously occupied. He had no sooner entered than the door was closed

and locked, and he heard the usual formula of the posting of a sentry

outside. He glanced around the room somewhat discontentedly, hardly able

to discern what was in it in the dim light, for the window-shutter was

nearly closed. He walked to the window and set the shutter wide open,

when to his surprise he saw that the window had two bars on it. He

looked out and saw a small courtyard surrounded by high walls, in one of

which there was a wooden door. The courtyard was deserted, there was not

even a window in the blank walls which rose straight up before him and

on either hand. He stepped out of the window and walked across the

courtyard to that door which he saw in the further wall, it was only

closed with a latch, he opened it, and looking cautiously out, saw a

quiet street. Just then a young officer of the Patricios came sauntering

carelessly along, he recognised him as Valentin Lopez y Viana, and made

as though he would speak with him.

"Not yet, wait till dark," said the young officer, laying a finger on

his lip and passing quietly on, as though he had never noticed that the

door was open.

Then Don Juan Martin knew that he was free, and gently reclosing the

door he went back through the window to his prison-chamber and waited,

looking upward at the evening sky and watching the shadow as it mounted

higher and higher up the eastern wall, till there was no flicker of

sunshine left to tell him that it was yet day save from the far-off

reflection of the clouds. Then he watched the clouds till their pink

tints faded into one dull grey, then they disappeared, no longer to be

distinguished in the ever-increasing darkness from the deep blue sky

under which they floated. Then the stars came out, faintly shining with

their own pure light, and waxing brighter and brighter as their great

rival the sun sank further and further, down below the verge of the

black horizon.

When the stars twinkled brightly, Don Juan Martin stepped forth again

from his window, crossed the courtyard and opened the door. No one was

near; he walked out, closing the door behind him. At the first corner he

met two officers of the Patricios, who passed him without a word;

further on he met two more, who, after he had passed them, turned and

walked slowly after him, but presently, as he looked back, they were no

longer visible; unmolested and unquestioned he reached the house of a

trusty friend.

Three days afterwards he had said farewell to his native country, and

was on board a vessel bound for Rio Janeiro, bearing credentials to the

Princess Carlota, and charged by Belgrano and others to do his utmost to

prevail upon her to come at once to Buenos Aires, where the advent of a

Princess of the house of Bourbon was looked upon by many ardent patriots

as the only means of delivering their country from the thraldom of

Spanish domination.

CHAPTER IV

HOW DON CARLOS EVAÑA ATTACKED THE WILD-DUCK, AND ROUTED THEM WITH GREAT

SLAUGHTER

Marshal Don Santiago Liniers felt his power and his popularity slipping

away from him. The arrest of Don Juan Martin Puyrredon had injured the

latter, his escape was a proof of the former. This escape was hailed by

the citizens of Buenos Aires as a great triumph, but among their rulers

it created consternation. A hasty council was convened, and General

Nieto sent for Major Asneiros, whose evidence had caused the arrest of

the Señor Puyrredon.

"As I told you before, my general," said Don Ciriaco, after his

examination had lasted some time, "there is one man much more dangerous

than the Señor Puyrredon, whom you refused to arrest, and whose arrest

would not have occasioned such excitement in the city."

"You speak of the Señor Don Carlos Evaña?" said General Nieto; then as

Don Ciriaco simply answered by an inclination of the head, he continued,

"I have received from the Señor Don Roderigo the most positive assurance

of the loyalty of the Señor Evaña."

"I have told you what I have heard and seen," replied Don Ciriaco,

carefully avoiding the eye of Don Roderigo, who was looking at him

intently.

"I know not what reasons the Señor Don Roderigo may have for placing

such confidence in the Señor Evaña," said Marshal Liniers, "but I know

him to be a man of the most dangerous ideas, and advise his immediate

arrest."

"Without any specific accusation against him?" said Don Roderigo.

"Repeat the words you heard him say," said General Nieto.

"We can do nothing until we have secured the troops."

"And was that all you overheard of their conversation?" asked Don

Roderigo.

"I heard nothing more," replied Don Ciriaco. "I had great difficulty in

reaching the rancho unobserved, and had no sooner entered than their

dogs began barking round the place."

"Did you recognise none of them except the Señor Evaña," asked Marshal

Liniers.

"There was another came up to the rancho with the Señor Evaña whom I

should recognise if I saw him again, but I do not know who he is."

"Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon very probably," said Marshal Liniers, with

a distrustful glance at Don Roderigo.

"I am quite certain he was not Don Marcelino, I should recognise him at

double the distance," replied Asneiros.

"Then the only thing certain is that a number of sportsmen ceased their

sport to discuss politics," said General Nieto, "that this Señor Evaña

was one of them, and that he made use of words which prove that he at

least is engaged in some treasonable conspiracy in which doubtless the

next step was the meeting of the Comandantes at the house of the Señor

Puyrredon."

Other members of the council concurred in this view of the case, and

some spoke of Evaña as a dangerous man, against whose machinations every

precaution should be taken.

"We need discuss the matter no further at present," said Marshal

Liniers. "I shall at once order the arrest of the Señor Evaña. You will

acknowledge the necessity of this measure, Don Roderigo?"

Don Roderigo made no answer and the council broke up. Loitering in an

ante-room some few minutes later, Don Ciriaco Asneiros was joined by Don

Roderigo, who drew him into the recess of a window and said:

"My son Don Marcelino was with that shooting party in the bañados, are

you sure you did not see him?"

"See him! Perfectly, as well as I see you now, but if you think I would

bear witness against your son you do not know me, Don Roderigo,"

answered Don Ciriaco.

"The Señor Evaña is almost as a son to me, might it not be some other

who said those words which you have reported?"

"I am positive that it was he said them," answered Don Ciriaco. "He is

at the head of a conspiracy, his arrest will put an end to all danger,

but so long as he is at liberty it will never be safe for his Excellency

Don Baltazar to come here."

"There is a disaffection, but there is no conspiracy," said Don

Roderigo. "His arrest will cause great sorrow to many of us and may

occasion an outbreak, it must in some way be avoided and I look to you

to help me, Don Ciriaco. I cannot interfere myself to prevent the

execution of an order issued by Marshal Liniers, but I wish you to

inform Marcelino at once of it, he will warn Don Carlos to keep out of

the way for a few days and so give me time to arrange the affair."

* * * * *

While Marshal Liniers and General Nieto so took counsel with their

advisers, several members of the secret committee met at the house of Dr

Vieytes. Evaña proposed to them some time before that the assumption of

power by Don Baltazar de Cisneros should be resisted by force; few of

them were convinced of the necessity for any such extreme measure, but

the excitement caused by the arrest and escape of Don Juan Martin

Puyrredon was an opportunity not to be lost of making some popular

demonstration which might deter the new Viceroy from crossing the river.

Summoned by Dr Vieytes, they met to consult upon this matter, when to

the surprise of most of them, Evaña, who was commonly the most reckless

of them all, now counselled moderation.

"We have the troops with us, what need we fear?" said Beruti.

"I think also that we should do nothing at present," said Don Manuel

Belgrano. "Liniers deserts us, we have no settled plan; unless the

Princess Carlota makes up her mind to come at once, we have no visible

head for any government we may establish."

"We want no princess or king," said Evaña; "what we do want is the

co-operation of men already experienced in government, which we shall

lose if we make any open demonstration against the new Viceroy. With

the co-operation of such men as Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, Baltazar

will be forced to yield to our demand for a complete reform of the

administration, and even under a Spanish Viceroy we shall establish a

popular government."

Never before had Evaña been heard to speak such words as these, the

listeners looked upon him with wonder, but further discussion was

prevented by the sudden entrance of Marcelino Ponce de Leon, who walked

hurriedly up to Evaña and laid his hand upon his arm.

"Carlos," said he, "Don Santiago Liniers has issued an order for your

immediate arrest."

"Another prisoner for the Patricios," said Yrigoyen, laughing.

"No," said Marcelino. "It is a picket of the escort has the order, and

his prison will be in the fort. There is no time to lose; hide

somewhere, Carlos, till night, then we will get you away."

"Who told you this?" asked Evaña.

"Asneiros; my father sent him to me."

"Ha!" replied Evana, taking up his hat; "I will enquire further into

this."

"Where are you going, Carlos? The troops will be already at your house."

"Come with me, I will consult your father."

As Marcelino and Evaña went off together, the rest looked at each other

in silence, then said Beruti:

"I cannot make out what has come over Evaña, I never saw such a change

in a man as I have seen in him during the last two or three weeks. How

has he come to have such faith in the liberal principles of Don

Roderigo?"

"Don Roderigo is very astute, and has persuaded him that between them

they can work out a pacific reform," said Dr Passo.

"If an angel had told me I would not have believed Evaña capable of

yielding to such counsel from a Spaniard," said Beruti.

"An angel has more to do with it than you think," said Belgrano

musingly. "Let us go, we shall see no more of Evaña to-day, and without

him we can do nothing."

"They may arrest Evaña but they won't keep him long a prisoner," said

Beruti.

* * * * *

Don Roderigo returned to his house after the council at the fort, very

thoughtful and somewhat sad. As he crossed the patio he was met by

Dolores, who, noting the sadness on his face, leaned upon his arm

praying him to tell her what had happened.

"I fear a serious misfortune has befallen a great friend of ours, Lola,"

said he.

"Have they caught Don Juan Martin?" asked Dolores, in alarm.

"No, it is another who is in danger, one who is very dear to me, Lola,

almost as a son to me."

"Don Carlos?" said Dolores, in a faltering voice.

"Yes, Lola; Don Santiago Liniers has issued an order for his arrest."

"But, papa, what has he done? Tell me, he was not at that meeting, for

he told me so."

"I believe he has done nothing, Lola, to merit imprisonment, but he has

extravagant ideas, and sometimes he speaks them too freely."

"Ideas! so has Marcelino, you said so, papa; but you told me--Oh, papa!

you will not let them keep him in prison."

As Don Roderigo entered his wife's morning-room he had the same tale to

tell over again to her, and looking upon them he saw wife and daughter

gaze upon him with reproachful eyes, as though they thought that he

could have prevented this great sorrow which was about to fall upon

them. His heart sank within him, and he painfully revolved in his mind

all the danger to his rapidly increasing power and influence, which

would result from any open interference on behalf of a native Argentine

charged with conspiracy against rulers of whom he himself was one. On

the other hand, the power of Marshal Liniers was passing away, the post

held by General Nieto was a mere temporary appointment, it was to the

assistance of Evaña and such as he, that he looked, when he proposed to

himself to obtain such influence over the new Viceroy as should leave

the real power in his own hands. More still; he had said that he looked

upon Evaña almost as a son, and such was the fact. Evaña's devotion to

Dolores was no secret to any of them, and he waited in joyful

anticipation for the day when he should ask him for his daughter and

become his son in reality. The frank friendship which Dolores professed

for Evaña, and her open admiration of his great talents, prevented him

from feeling any doubt of what her answer would be, when he should

propose the alliance to her, and the happiness of his daughter was as

dear to his heart as his own ambition.

As these thoughts passed rapidly through his mind, sitting in silence,

he saw Dolores hide her face from him on her mother's breast, while Doña

Constancia bent over her soothing her, she was evidently weeping. He

could bear it no longer, he started to his feet, resolving within

himself to risk everything for the sake of the man whom his daughter

loved. He was about to speak, when the door opened and gave entrance to

Marcelino and the man of whom he was thinking.

"Don Carlos," said he, going to meet him with both hands stretched out

in welcome, "never was I more glad to see you. In my house you are safe

from arrest, and I know you can remove these unjust suspicions which

have fallen upon you."

"I am perfectly ready to meet any accusation which may be brought

against me," replied Evaña, placing his hands in those of Don Roderigo,

but looking over his shoulder at Dolores, who had started to her feet on

his entrance and on whose face the traces of recent tears were but too

evident.

"Come with me," said Don Roderigo, drawing him away, "we will talk over

this matter quietly together."

In his own study Don Roderigo talked long and earnestly with his guest,

but on neither side was there perfect frankness. Evaña did not deny that

there had been talk of resisting the assumption of power by the new

Viceroy, but he asserted that it had been merely spoken of in casual

conversation, and that no one had the faintest idea of getting up a

conspiracy for that purpose. He also denied that he had ever made use of

the words which had been given in evidence against him, and had made no

attempt whatever to secure the adhesion of the troops, which was partly

true and partly false. On his side Don Roderigo refused to give up the

name of the accuser, but Evaña learnt sufficient to confirm his

suspicion that he and his comrades of the secret committee had been

watched, and their conversation partly overheard by Don Ciriaco Asneiros

on the occasion of their expedition to the bañados ol Flores. He learnt

also that Don Roderigo was sincerely anxious to secure his co-operation

in forcing gradual measures of reform upon the new Viceroy, but would

resist to the utmost any attempt to dispute his authority.

Evaña was in a frame of mind which rendered him only too ready to give

full weight to the specious arguments by which Don Roderigo sought to

convince him that popular institutions might be established without

severing the bond which bound her colonies to Spain; his heart for the

time overpowered his reason, and made him willing to grasp at any chance

which might permit him to work in concert with Don Roderigo for one end,

the liberation of the Argentine people from the colonial system of

Spain. This chance seemed now within his grasp, Spain might send

Viceroys, but she was powerless to coerce her colonies; with the aid of

such men as Don Roderigo the gradual introduction of salutary reforms

was feasible, the ultimate end of such reforms would be the

establishment of the Argentine Republic.

Evaña yielded, quieting his reason by saying to himself that he only

rendered more certain of success the great work of his life by

postponing for a time the execution of his designs.

All the time he passed listening to the arguments of Don Roderigo there

floated before his eyes a fair vision, a sweet face looking upon him in

tender sympathy; through all his reasonings there ran one thought, may

not that gaze be yet turned upon me not in friendship but in love. So

dear was this hope to him that he felt that for one glance of real love

from those eyes, which that day had looked upon him in pity and in

sympathy alone, he could even give up that purpose which had been the

work of his life so far, and for the accomplishment of which, life

itself had seemed to him but a small sacrifice.

Evaña yielded, and grasping the willing hand of Don Roderigo assured him

of his aid and sympathy in every measure he might bring forward for the

welfare of the people.

Night closed in ere their conversation came to an end, and darkness

brought Marcelino, who announced to his friend that his house was

occupied by a party of grenadiers under the command of Major Asneiros,

and that it was reported in the city that he himself had fled to the

campaña, where all knew that his safety was secure.

There were many anxious faces as they sat down to dinner that evening at

the house of Don Roderigo, but Don Roderigo himself was very cheerful,

speaking of the danger to their friend as passed over, while Evaña was

in excellent spirits, talking much more gaily than was his wont,

surprising Dolores into many a laugh by his sayings, but withal

occasioning her some undefined uneasiness by the unusual tenderness he

threw into his manner when addressing her. As they rose from table he

said:

"Now, Don Roderigo, come with me. Let us go and visit this ex-Viceroy,

and I will ask him myself his reasons for sending a picket of infantry

to occupy my house. If Don Ciriaco Asneiros wishes to inspect my papers

in search of proofs of some conspiracy he is welcome to do so, but I

should prefer to be present, he may mistake a treatise on algebra for

the records of some secret society."

"Now!" exclaimed Don Roderigo; "wait till to-morrow, then I will see him

myself, and I assure you I can arrange everything. I have secret powers

from Don Baltazar which I can use on an emergency. I am even authorised

to arrest Don Santiago and depose him if I find it necessary."

"No, let us go at once," replied Evaña. "I intend to sleep under my own

roof to-night."

* * * * *

"The Señor Evaña has left the city."

Chafing angrily within himself at the trammels which bound him on every

side, trammels from which he might have freed himself by one vigorous

effort, which would have placed him at the head of a free people;

chafing angrily at his waning popularity, evidences of which met him at

every turn, the ex-Viceroy heard these words, telling him that the man

he dreaded had escaped him. Leaving his house he returned to the fort to

consult with his colleague General Nieto.

It was nine o'clock, steps were heard in the ante-room, the door opened,

the next minute Evaña stood before him. With head erect, and dark

flashing eyes, Evaña stood before him, demanding in stern words the

reason of the order which had been sent forth for his arrest.

"Two files of grenadiers and a priest, that would be my answer," said

General Nieto, springing angrily from his chair and laying his hand upon

a small bell which stood on the table.

Don Roderigo laid a hand upon his arm and drew him away.

"Señor Mariscal, I repeat my question," said Evaña. "Upon what grounds

have you issued an order for my arrest."

Still the ex-Viceroy answered not, but sat in his chair staring at him a

strange fascination slowly creeping over him. Who was this man who came

again to him in the darkness of the night, as he had come once before? A

conspirator, whose life was forfeit, and who totally reckless of danger

again stood before him, looking down upon him with fierce dark eyes. Who

was this man that he should so persistently defy him, and before whose

gaze his own bold spirit quailed?

"Two files of grenadiers and a priest," said Evaña. "That butcher who

sat beside you just now, has repeated the sentence which Spanish

jealousy would pass upon yourself, but that they fear the Argentine

people, who are your friends; yes, Don Santiago, even yet your friends.

It is not too late, even yet you may save yourself from the fate which

looms over you. Choose now at once, will you put yourself at the head

of the people, or will you fall their victim? Choose now, for the time

is short; two file of grenadiers and a priest, such is your fate from

Spanish jealousy or from the indignation of the people you have

betrayed. That fate may yet be averted, but the time is short. What say

you?" added Evaña, stepping up to the ex-Viceroy and laying his hand on

his shoulder.

That touch broke the spell; Liniers sprang from his chair, pushed Evaña

from him with such violence that he reeled backwards for several paces

ere he could recover his balance, and seizing the bell rang it. For a

minute there was silence; to this summons there was no response, and

Evaña, folding his arms across his chest, stood motionless in the centre

of the room with a fierce glare in his dark eyes. Liniers strove to meet

that glance with one of defiance, but his own eyes fell before it; again

he rang the bell, then as there was still no answer he walked to a door,

opened it, and shouted:

"Officer of the guard!"

In the ante-room all was darkness, no one was there; he went on, opened

another door, and found himself face to face with Don Roderigo.

"Did you call, Don Santiago?" said Don Roderigo.

"The officer of the guard; where is he?"

"Beyond," said General Nieto.

"You do not want him," said Don Roderigo in a sharp voice, then taking

Liniers by the arm he lead him back to the further room, while General

Nieto followed, closing the doors behind them.

In the further room stood Evaña, motionless, just as Liniers had left

him.

Without a word Don Roderigo seated himself at a table, drew a sheet of

paper towards him, and writing a few lines handed it to Marshal Liniers

for his signature.

Liniers read the paper, it was an order to Major Asneiros to withdraw

his men from the house of Don Carlos Evaña, and cancelling the order of

arrest issued against that gentleman. Liniers looked in perplexity from

one to the other, but General Nieto refused to meet his glance, and in

the resolute countenance of Don Roderigo there seemed a consciousness of

power to enforce his will which awed him into compliance. He took up a

pen and signed the paper, feeling as he did so that he abdicated the

last remnant of his authority.

General Nieto countersigned the order without a word, then Don Roderigo

folded it up, put it into the breast-pocket of his coat, and turning to

Evaña said:

"Let us go."

Evaña walked up to the ex-Viceroy, bent over him and whispered in his

ear:

"Beware the day we meet again."

The next minute Liniers was alone, and alone he remained till near

midnight, buried in gloomy reverie, when shaking himself free from his

thoughts he rose to go to his own house.

"Two file of grenadiers and a priest, such is the reward of Spain for

those who have served her too well," he muttered to himself as he threw

his cloak over his shoulders.

On the 30th June, Don Baltazar Hidalgo de Cisneros, General of the

Spanish navy, by the will of the Junta Central of Spain and by the tacit

acquiescence of the Argentine people, Viceroy of Buenos Aires, arrived

at the capital city of his Viceroyalty, landed and entered into the full

exercise of authority. The people of Buenos Aires, both natives and

Spaniards, received him with acclamations, the Spaniards rejoicing that

their former predominance would now be restored to them, the natives

anxious to conciliate the good-will of their new ruler.

Many men looked on as he landed, who took no part in these acclamations,

among them two fast friends stood side by side listening to the shouts

of the people in far differing mood, Marcelino Ponce de Leon and Don

Carlos Evaña. Marcelino's face was clouded over, he saw the last chance

of freedom slipping away, he saw in Don Baltazar de Cisneros a

triumphant agent of that ruthless despotism which had for so long

crushed the young energies of his country, he saw in his enthusiastic

reception the ruin of those high hopes he had dared to entertain. But on

the face of Don Carlos Evaña there was no trouble or despondency, he

looked upon it all as a pageant, meaning nothing. Marcelino looked at

him in surprise as he saw the smile upon his lip.

"How can you smile, Carlos," said he, "when this man comes to undo all

that we have gained during three years?"

"He will undo nothing," replied Don Carlos. "He comes to give stability

to what we have already gained, and to help us on in our career of

progress."

"He, Carlos! he is a Spaniard, and the nominee of Spain!"

"Don Roderigo is a Spaniard. Your father is his chosen counsellor,"

replied Don Carlos; Marcelino was silenced and spoke no more.

Then Don Roderigo, who was in close attendance upon the new Viceroy,

perceived them and came up to speak with them.

"Ah, Carlos," said he, "those who stood forward in defence of the law on

the 1st January have to-day reason to rejoice. Natives and Spaniards

join to welcome our new ruler. There is now no longer division amongst

us, once more we are a united people."

"And you know how our present union may be preserved," replied Don

Carlos.

"I do, and I look to you both to assist me. Many reforms in the

administration are of urgent necessity and are now possible, but of this

we will talk later. At one o'clock his Excellency Don Baltazar will give

a reception in the saloon of audience, I shall expect to see you there

and shall have the pleasure of introducing you."

Both the younger men promised to attend, and Don Roderigo left them.

"But, Carlos," said Marcelino, as his father walked away, "we must

discuss this matter with our friends, from this, no one can tell what

will result. If my father maintains his influence with the Viceroy and

has the real direction of affairs, all will go well, but his power

depends upon the caprice of a man of whom we know nothing, and it may

cease any day; we are in ignorance of the secret intentions of this Don

Baltazar. There will be many wild-duck on the marshes now, let us go and

shoot."

"With all my heart," said Evaña. "Whatever day will suit you, I will

make convenient to me."

Marcelino soon found a day convenient, and a party which comprised all

the members of the secret committee, sallied forth betimes to the

bañados in the neighbourhood of Quilmes, where wild-duck swarmed by

thousands. All looked to Evaña to fix upon some spot for a general halt;

the name of the new Viceroy had as yet not been mentioned among them.

But Evaña, instead of seeking out some secluded spot and establishing

himself there as was his wont on such occasions, split the party up into

knots of twos and threes, which he despatched in different directions

about the swampy plain, with instructions to concentrate towards one

central point and to fire at any duck flying away from this point. His

comrades looked at him in surprise, to reach this point would occupy the

greater part of the day.

"They laugh at us, do our friends in the city," said Don Carlos; "they

say that such sportsmen as we are a disgrace to them, let us show them

we can do something besides talk of sporting, I think we have been

sportsmen long enough to know how to shoot straight."

Then the same thought came to them all, their empty bags might well have

excited suspicion that it was not for simple sport that these excursions

were arranged, especially as they never took any servants with them; the

new Viceroy might well be suspected of special vigilance, after the

caution he had shown in taking possession of his post; it would be well,

therefore, that they should do something to merit the name of sportsmen.

No man made any further observation, but each one went to his post as

directed, and spent the entire day wading through swamps, scrambling

across water-courses, crawling on hands and knees through the long grass

to get within shot of their game. Of them all none was more

indefatigable than Don Carlos Evaña. He had kept Marcelino with him, and

rejected all his attempts to converse on any other subject than the

sport on which they were engaged.

An hour before sundown the whole party met again at the place which had

been fixed upon for concentration, with their clothes wet and covered

with mud, their powder-horns and shot-belts empty, but their bags and

pockets full of duck, teal, and snipe, and also with a few wood-pigeons,

which Evaña had gone out of his way to shoot in a small plantation.

Fatigued as they were, they yet found spirits to laugh at each other's

draggled appearance, and to recount the misfortunes which had befallen

them by falling into water-holes and so forth.

"But," said Marcelino, "there is yet an hour of sunshine, we have yet

time to learn the opinions----"

"For my part, Señores," said Evaña, interrupting him, "I have but one

opinion, which is not washed out of me by that last bañado, I never

thought it was so deep or I would have gone round it; my opinion is,

that the sooner I reach home and change my clothes the better I shall

feel to-morrow, and I think it is an opinion that you all share with

me."

"At least it is also mine," said Don Miguel Yrigoyen.

"They can laugh at us no longer," said Don Manuel Belgrano. "We have

earned our laurels to-day, let us be content with that, for the rest

there is no great hurry. We have a new Viceroy, and it appears to me we

shall have some years yet in which we may discuss his qualities. As for

the Princess Carlota, I wash my hands of her."

"She has let the opportunity pass, and it will never return," said

Marcelino.

Without further ado the horses were saddled, each draggled sportsman

bestowing as best he could the unwonted trophies of his skill, and away

they went for town, discussing among themselves no more serious subject

than the weight of their respective bags.

That day's work quite redeemed the reputation of these friendly

sportsmen, and was for long after a theme on which they were wont to

descant with immense gratification to themselves.

In spite of his exertions Don Carlos Evaña was not too tired to spend

the evening at the house of Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, which had of

late been his great resort in leisure moments, and where he was always

welcome. But before he even changed his clothes, he selected the finest

birds from his bag and sent them by a servant to Doña Constancia.

"Now, Señorita, what do you say?" said he, as he sat near Dolores that

evening. "Yesterday you laughed when I told you that Marcelino and I

were going out shooting."

"I am sorry for the poor birds," said Dolores, "and I won't laugh

again."

Months passed before Dolores had another chance of laughing at Don

Carlos for his bad success as a sportsman. The wild-duck had flown back

to their haunts in the icy south, and partridges were sitting on their

dark-brown eggs, in nests hidden by the long spring grass, ere Don

Carlos Evaña again shouldered his gun and went forth shooting with the

members of the secret committee.

CHAPTER V

HOW THE VICEROY PLACED A SWORD IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMIES OF SPAIN

The first great difficulties which beset the new Viceroy arose from the

same cause which had so greatly hampered his predecessor, the empty

state of the treasury. The revenues of government from all sources

little exceeded $100,000 a month, the expenditure was more than double,

in addition to which there was a heavy debt incurred in repelling the

second invasion of the English.

The Viceroy applied, in the first place, to the Spanish residents for a

loan, his request was refused; in his perplexity he turned for counsel

to Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, who in reply laid before him the memorial

on free trade, which had been drawn up by Don Manuel Belgrano.

"You think that by opening our ports to the English we shall increase

the revenue sufficiently to meet all the expenditure?" said the Viceroy.

"I feel sure of it," replied Don Roderigo.

"It is in direct contradiction to my instructions," said the Viceroy.

"I believe the main purport of your instructions is, that you put an end

to these disorders that have broken out, and re-establish the full

authority of government."

"Yes, and how am I to do it with native troops who release their

prisoners and can't be punished, and without money, is to me a mystery.

You see what has happened at Chuquisaca, the Audencia quarrelled with

the President, and appealed to the people. The Creoles have set up a

Junta of their own, now this Junta of Creoles overrides the decisions of

all the Spanish corporations, and neither the President nor the Audencia

has any power left. What is to be the end of all this? Before long we

may have a Junta of Creoles here in Buenos Aires."

"Your Excellency does not overrate the danger," replied Don Roderigo.

"You want money; open the ports to the English and you will have it. You

want troops; by establishing free trade[11] you will win the confidence

of the people, and I engage that the Patricios themselves shall put down

this Junta at Chuquisaca for you."

"I will think of it," said the Viceroy.

What the Viceroy did was to submit the memorial to the Cabildo and to

the Consulado, both of which corporations were composed exclusively of

Spaniards. Both returned the same answer, that the project was

inadmissible.

Marcelino Ponce de Leon, as secretary to the Consulado, had the

mortification of having to draw up the reply of that body himself, a

work which clashed so completely with his own convictions that he was

only prevented from throwing up his post by the earnest entreaties of

his father.

To relieve his mind he organised a shooting expedition, in which the

sport gave but a poor result in birds, but produced an idea which was

carried out with great zeal by the various members of the secret

committee. All the wealthy landowners were forthwith subjected to a

vigorous canvass in favour of the project of free trade, and their

interests were so plainly sacrificed to Spanish greed under the present

system, that they were with no great difficulty prevailed upon to unite

in support of the scheme of Manuel Belgrano. A number of them met at the

house of Don Gregorio Lopez and selected Dr Don Mariano Moreno as their

advocate to combat for them the arguments of the Spanish corporations.

The result was that Dr Moreno drew up another memorial, dated 30th

September, 1809, and entitled "La Representation de Los Hacendados," in

which occur the following remarkable words:

"The Sovereign did not confer upon Y. E. the high dignity of the Viceroy

of these provinces in order that you might watch over the interests of

the merchants of Cadiz, but over our interests. It is a tyranny, that

monopoly which the merchants of Cadiz have usurped, and the

remonstrances of this city are echoed everywhere in bitter complaints,

which are heard there only with contempt, expressive of the

shamelessness with which they seize upon the wealth of a people in no

way inferior to themselves. Y. E. rules over a great people, protect,

then, with vigorous justice the development of the great wealth of which

nature has been prodigal to us."

"At last, we begin to understand the meaning of the words, 'America for

the Americans,'" said Don Carlos Evaña, as he read a copy of this

memorial which Marcelino had procured for the secret committee.

In October the ports of Buenos Aires and Monte Video were opened to

English ships, English merchants soon made their appearance, the empty

coffers of the Viceroy were rapidly replenished, trade was developed to

an extent never before known, and the increased value of their products

doubled and trebled the wealth of the native hacendados.

Having resolved this matter, the Viceroy next turned his attention to

the revolts in the interior. A strong detachment of the Patricios formed

the nucleus of an expedition which, under the command of General Nieto,

marched to Chuquisaca. With this expedition went as a volunteer Evaristo

Ponce de Leon, the youngest officer in the regiment of the Patricios.

So under the rule of the new Viceroy, winter passed into spring and

spring into summer, and the men of Buenos Aires saw the power which they

had thought of as their own slowly slipping away from them.

But Don Baltazar de Cisneros distrusted their apparent apathy, he knew

that any untoward circumstance might arouse the dormant spirit of

revolution of which Liniers had warned him. Again he turned to Don

Roderigo for counsel, and the result was that he determined to extend

his influence over the people by means of an official newspaper.

This was not the first newspaper which had ever been published in Buenos

Aires. In the first year of the century was published the _Telegrafo

Mercantil_, which was succeeded in the following year by the

_Semanario_. The English also, during their occupation of Monte Video,

there published a newspaper, entitled _La Estrella del Sur_, which was

printed partly in Spanish, and partly in English; both this paper and

the _Semanario_ ceased to appear during the confusion occasioned by

Whitelock's invasion of Buenos Aires.

The editorship of the newspaper was entrusted by the Viceroy to Don

Manuel Belgrano, who at once convened a meeting of the secret committee

at his own house.

"Señores," said he, when all were present, "there is no longer necessity

for secrecy; I have invited you here to-day to assist me in conducting a

newspaper, which his Excellency the Viceroy has commissioned me to

publish, in order to teach the people by the writings of men of

education and experience, the due appreciation of their rights and

privileges. Every article before publication will have to be submitted

to his Excellency for approval, the teachings of the newspaper will thus

have official sanction and authority. The subject to which he desires me

more particularly to direct attention is the necessity for union and

public spirit. I think we may on these subjects easily devise such

articles as may merit his approval, and at the same time may teach our

fellow-citizens that the prosperity of our country depends upon our own

union for the assertion of those rights which are most wrongfully

withheld from us by Spain."

Before the end of January, in the year 1810, the prospectus of the new

_Diario del Comercio_ was published in Buenos Aires, and extensively

circulated by viceregal authority throughout the provinces.

Through the summer and autumn the newspaper appeared at regular

intervals, and in every number there was at least one article which in

covert language was an attack upon the colonial system of Spain.

* * * * *

Long and weary were these months to Marcelino Ponce de Leon, the sweet

voice of Magdalen Miranda no longer cheered him in his troubles, in vain

he looked for sympathy into her deep grey eyes; he seldom saw her at

all, when he did there was a cold constraint in her manner to him, which

more effectually kept him at a distance from her than would any

outspoken anger. And of one great trouble he dared not speak even to

her. Since the day when Evaña had shown him that fatal newspaper

paragraph recording the loss of the _Petrel_ he had heard no further

tidings of his friend Gordon; he had written to England, but

communication was slow and uncertain in those days, he had received no

answer to his letter, the fate of his English friend was yet in

suspense, and suspense is more wearing than the most dreadful certainty.

Sorrowing over the loss of the first love of his life, alternately

hoping and fearing as the days wore on, the colour faded from his

cheeks, and even faint lines of care began to show themselves upon his

smooth forehead. In vain his mother and Dolores strove to cheer him,

knowing nothing of the cause of his grief, or if Dolores suspected

somewhat of the cause, she kept it to herself and never spoke to him of

Magdalen Miranda.

Of his trouble he could not speak even to his friend Evaña, who was to

him as a brother, for Evaña had spoken to him scornfully of Don Alfonso

Miranda, and slightingly of her who was to him the one pearl among

women. And in the face of his friend he had seen hope and love softening

the harshness of his features and infusing a gentle tenderness into his

dark eyes, he knew that the loss of that other friend was to him great

gain, he could not look to him for sympathy.

To Evaña this time had passed as one long holiday. As month after month

went by, and there came no news of Gordon, the thought that he had

perished in the wreck of the _Petrel_ became to him a certainty, yet of

this certainty he spoke to no one, he dreaded what the effect of the

intelligence might be upon the girl he loved; he knew the firm constancy

of her nature, firm even in faults, steady with a steadiness which he

had learned to look upon as a most unusual trait in the character of a

woman. Her constancy was itself one source of the admiration he felt for

her, even though her love were lavished on another. While Gordon lived

he knew that her heart would never swerve from its allegiance, and he

disdained the thought of seeking for himself the love of a heart which

owned another master. But if his rival no longer lived, then he thought

that it might be his to soothe the pain of a fearful wound and to win

that heart wholly to himself.

Yet he dreaded the day when this intelligence should reach her, he knew

that the pain would be all the more severe from the stern courage with

which she would hide it in her own bosom; he loved her, and her

suffering, however bravely it might be concealed, would he knew, rend

his own heart with fearful agony. He dreaded the arrival of every ship

from Europe, yet every letter he opened, every letter he saw opened by

his friend Marcelino, awaked within him a wild hope that his suspense

was ended.

This time had been to him one long holiday, but a holiday to the full as

replete with alternate hope and fear, as it had been to him he called

his brother. As the months passed on, hope grew stronger and stronger

within him, and as hope grew stronger so his love waxed bolder, till he

began to say to himself that he had no longer any living rival whom he

need fear, and that he might venture to seek for himself the love of a

heart that might yet be his.

He talked much of the uncertainty of a soldier's life, spoke much of the

desperate fighting in the Peninsula, of which each ship from Europe

brought them fresh details, but as he did so, his heart often smote him

with bitter anguish as he looked upon the face of Lola Ponce; in the

tightly-compressed lips and watching eyes he saw a question which she

never asked him; he saw her ask herself, was there any meaning to her in

these words of his beyond such meaning as they had at all.

The long summer days began to draw in, the wheat was garnered, apricots

glowed temptingly on the trees like balls of frosted gold, grapes hung

from the espaliers in great purple bunches, inviting the despoiler, and

the peaches, losing their dull-green hue, began to deck themselves in

scarlet and yellow, toned down with an exquisite bloom. The Quinta de

Ponce looked more like an oasis than ever, the dark-green leaves of the

trees contrasting strongly with the dry yellow grass of the Pampa, and

with the arid hardness of the dusty roads, as Marcelino and his friend

Evaña rode up to it, one evening in February. Evaña had been unusually

silent on the way out; he had resolved that the time had come, for him

to break as gently as he could the news to Dolores of the great loss she

had suffered, and he had resolved to do it himself, for, as he thought,

none but Marcelino and himself had penetrated her secret, and he sought

to shield her as he could, even at the risk of bitter sorrow to himself.

Dolores came to meet them as they walked under the trees together, but

no longer welcomed them with buoyant cheerfulness, there was a

listlessness about her, as though she were a prey to some secret care.

She laid her hand on Marcelino's arm and walked beside him, but her eyes

looked searchingly into the face of Don Carlos Evaña. Few words they

spoke together; as they neared the house Marcelino left the other two,

and went himself to speak with his mother. Backwards and forwards paced

the two under the trees side by side, saying little, but each with

furtive glance watching the other. Evaña had said to himself that the

time was come, but now that Dolores walked beside him he knew not how to

commence, he knew not with what words he should prepare her and

strengthen her, so that he might lessen the shock of the truth he had

resolved to tell her.

"We have been friends a long time now, Dolores," said he, "and our

friendship has met with no interruption such as I once feared."

"I do not know why it should," replied Dolores.

"At one time I feared much that there was great danger of an

interruption to it, but the danger has passed over, and there is now no

cloud between us. Shall I tell you what the danger was?"

"I know," said Dolores, "I have asked papa, and he has told me. Papa

says that you learned many extravagant ideas when you were in Paris,

ideas which might have been your ruin, but since then you have learned

better, and papa says there is no other in whom he has such confidence

as he has in you."

"Not only that," said Evaña, "Don Roderigo is now, next to Don Baltazar

de Cisneros, the most powerful man in the city, and the system of

government is completely changed. We Creoles can cheerfully submit to be

ruled by men such as he, who will educate the people, till some day they

will know how to rule themselves."

"That can never be," replied Dolores.

Don Carlos paused, the abruptness of the answer somewhat startled him;

again they walked for a space in silence under the sheltering trees,

again Evaña spoke:

"Your father has a hard task before him, Dolores," said he. "In some

things I have been able to aid him; it has been a pleasure to me to aid

him in any way, for my help to him brings me nearer to you."

"You come to see us much more frequently now than you used to do," said

Dolores.

"I should like to come more frequently still; I should like to see you

every day," replied Evaña.

"I fear the new _Diario_ would not have much help from you if you came

galloping out to see us every day, Don Carlos," said Dolores, with a

faint attempt at a laugh.

Again Don Carlos was silent, for this mention of the _Diario_ brought a

recent slight to his recollection, under which his proud spirit chafed.

With great care he had written an article for the first issue of the

_Diario_, previous to sending it in he had shown it to Don Roderigo. Don

Roderigo had read it carefully, and after drawing his pen through one

sentence, saying but one word "inadmissible," had handed it back to him

without comment. This sentence contained the pith of the whole article,

but Evaña had submitted; mutilated as it was, this article had appeared

in the _Diario_, and he never thought of it but with secret shame.

Again they walked on in silence, side by side, till Dolores asked

abruptly:

"What is the matter with Marcelino?"

"I fear he is not well," replied Evaña.

"I am sure he is not," said Dolores. "But you see more of him than we

do, what is to do with him?"

"I fear he is not happy," replied Evaña.

"I know he is not," said Dolores. "When any ship arrives from Europe he

is miserable for days after."

"The news from Spain is continually worse," replied Evaña. "Even the

English appear to be unable to do anything to stop the progress of the

French armies."

"He has had no letter for months," said Dolores.

"Not from Gordon," replied Evaña. "But Gordon can have little time for

writing if he is with the army."

"If! you say if; is he not with the army?"

"He was on his way when Marcelino last heard from him."

"But that is long ago," said Dolores sadly, then turning from Evaña, she

left him and went into the house.

Evaña followed her, entered the sala, but found it vacant, seated

himself, thinking over what he had said to Dolores, and telling himself

that he had not said one word of what he wished to say, but had aroused

in her mind vague suspicions of evil which in no way advanced his own

cause. He had wished to tell her plainly of his own love first, asking

nothing in return, but hoping everything, then gradually breaking the

truth to her to make her feel the need of the sympathy he yearned to

offer.

As he thus tortured himself, saying to himself that he had let the

chance go by, Dolores entered the room. Evaña rose to meet her but

stopped as he saw the extraordinary pallor on her face, every shade of

colour had vanished from it, even her lips were white and were firmly

pressed together, while her eyes, looking straight into his, had a

peering, anxious expression in them which caused his heart to cease for

a moment its beating, too well he divined the reason of the change in

her. She walked up to him and laid a hand upon his arm.

"I have been talking with Marcelino," she said, in slow, measured

words. "What is this that you are hiding from me? He will tell me

nothing."

"Hiding from you!" said Evaña; "Marcelino has no secrets from you."

"Are you not my friend, Don Carlos? Do you think I have no courage? Do

you fear that I shall disgrace my name? Tell me, what is this that you

are hiding from me?"

"Be sure that if we had any secret between us you should share it, were

there any necessity that you should do."

Then the hand which lay upon Evaña's arm closed upon it with such force

that the finger-ends buried themselves in his flesh, causing him severe

pain, but he hardly noticed it, so fascinated was he by the determined

eagerness of those gray eyes which so near to him seemed to defy him.

The white lips parted once more, and through the half-closed teeth there

came low but distinctly the question he dreaded to hear:

"Is he dead?"

For one moment there was wild conflict in Evaña's soul. He dared not

tell the simple truth, though he had come there that evening to tell it,

he dared not look upon the despair which that truth told bluntly would

bring into the face he loved to look upon, he dreaded to see in that

despair the ruin of his own hopes. But as he gazed down into the grey

eyes which looked into his own defying him to attempt a falsehood, he

could no longer pretend ignorance and he answered rapidly:

"He has been in great danger, but the worst is over."

The next moment he would have given worlds to have retracted his words,

but it was too late, she had believed him, the fierce grasp upon his arm

relaxed, the defiant look of sorrow in those eyes melted into one of

grateful hope, and Evaña learnt then what he would well-nigh have given

his life to have never known, that in life or in death she had given her

heart to one only, and that no other could supplant him even though

fathoms deep under the sea.

"Always my friend," she said, then turning from him glided with slow

step away.

Evaña saw Dolores no more that evening, Doña Constancia said she was

unwell and had retired to her own room.

Long after nightfall, when the household had gone to rest, he paced in

solitude to and fro under those trees, whose branches had overshadowed

him and Dolores as they had walked and talked together but a few hours

before. But a few hours and yet how everything was changed to him! then

with a heart full of hope and tenderness he had sought to tell her of

the great blow that had fallen upon her, hoping that she might then turn

to him for consolation, and that in the deep devotion of his love for

her she might find solace, till her heart turning to him might forget

its old allegiance and become entirely his. She had given him the chance

he had sought, one word from him might have destroyed at once that hope

in which her heart lived, that hope which was the barrier to his own

happiness, for she trusted him so completely, she had never doubted him

for one moment. And that word was the simple truth, "dead," yet he had

not dared to speak it. He had bid her hope yet, when there was no hope,

he had betrayed the confidence she had placed in him, he had shown doubt

of her courage and strength of mind, some day she would learn the truth,

then her confidence and her trust in him were gone for ever. And even

though it were not so, had he not read in the grateful thanks which had

beamed upon him from those grey eyes the baselessness of all his hopes.

"In life or in death, his only," he muttered to himself.

Then he thought of how he had sacrificed all for her, how he had

sacrificed the creed which had been so far the guiding principle of his

life, and had united himself with those who could never be other than

the tyrants of his country, how he had sacrificed his ambition,

perchance even the future of his country; for, as he now said to

himself, the power of a man such as Don Roderigo could be but transient.

He thought of the sentence in his article for the _Diario_, through

which Don Roderigo had drawn his pen, the only sentence in that whole

paper which spoke plainly of the right of all men to think for

themselves, which spoke plainly of some future day of freedom.

As he thought of all this, he asked himself why he had so forsaken his

old creed, why he had forced himself to think that a republic of

Argentines was a dream, practicable only in some remote future, in which

he could have no part. To these questions his heart answered for him,

that he had done it for her sake.

Then he pictured to himself what would have followed had he and his

friends boldly resisted the assumption of power by Don Baltazar de

Cisneros. He saw the country rent by civil war, himself and Don

Roderigo, leaders on different sides; he pictured to himself this deadly

strife, and as he did so his thoughts flew back to an evening on which

he had dreamed a dream, a dream full of presage of future woe, a dream

so bitter that its memory had been present with him ever since, a dream

in which Dolores had fallen dead at his feet, stricken to the death by

his own hand.

"It cannot be, it cannot be," he said to himself. "That fair young life

sacrificed to a memory that is gone. Fool that I was not to tell her the

truth at once!"

As he said this he struck himself fiercely on the breast with his

clenched fist, and a sharp pang shot through his arm. Drawing up the

cuff of his coat and unbuttoning the wristband of his shirt he turned up

the sleeve; there on his arm, where her hand had rested, were four black

marks corresponding to the four fingers of the tiny hand of Lola Ponce,

four bruises inflicted by the pressure of those small fingers. Evaña

walked into the moonlight and gazed long upon these four black marks,

then raising his arm he pressed his lips upon them, muttering to himself

with a deep sigh:

"In life or in death, his only."

[11] This is a translation of the then popular cry, "Libertad de

Comercio!" and has not the thorough meaning of the English

expression. It simply implies an open port.

CHAPTER VI

CADUCÓ LA ESPAÑA!

The expedition of Chuquisaca met with no effective opposition. The

Spanish authorities were reinstated, and many of the principal citizens

of that far-off city were tried by court-martial and banished to Peru,

there to languish in the stifling casemates of Callao. An expedition

from Peru against La Paz, under General Goyeneche, was more stubbornly

resisted. But the insurgents, badly organised and half armed, were

routed with great slaughter, La Paz was taken by assault, many of the

leaders perished on the gibbet, and their dismembered bodies were nailed

on the sign-posts which marked out the public roads in Upper Peru.

The Patricios returned to Buenos Aires, but they cared not to speak of

their exploits. Then men began to rouse themselves from their apathy and

to murmur indignant words, whispering to one another with bated breath

that Spain was ever the same Spain, that there was one law for Spaniards

and quite another law for Americans. Elio and Alzaga and their

companions, who had revolted against a Viceroy holding his appointment

from the regal Court of Aranjuez, were held high in favour by the new

ruler, who held his appointment only from the Junta of Seville. For

Americans who had dared to revolt, there was the gibbet and the garotte,

or imprisonment in a dreary dungeon.

The war in the Peninsula in the year 1809 was one long series of

disasters to Spain, broken only by one or two insignificant triumphs,

relieved only from utter disgrace by the heroic defence of Saragossa and

that of Gerona, both alike unavailing.

The Sierra de la Morena stood as a huge, natural rampart around the

ancient kingdom of Boabdil. Andalusia was as yet unsullied by the

footstep of the invader, but to the north of the sierra, all organised

resistance had ceased, the honour of Spain was upheld only by scattered

bands of guerillas. Even the British allies of Spain, after their bloody

but fruitless victory at Talavera de la Reyna, had retired to the

frontiers of Portugal. Joseph reigned tranquilly at Madrid. All Spain,

save that last stronghold of the Moors, lay prostrate at the feet of

Napoleon.

Then the Junta of Seville determined upon one last desperate effort.

Early in November an army of 50,000 men, with 7000 horse and sixty guns,

issued from the defiles of the Sierra de la Morena, and marched upon

Madrid. On the 12th November, on the wide plains of New Castile, they

encountered their enemy at Ocaña. All that personal bravery could

accomplish was done, but military skill and discipline were stronger

than patriotism and fanaticism combined. The last army of Spain was

completely routed--20,000 Spaniards breathed their last on that fatal

field. The Sierra de la Morena remained almost undefended, the last

bulwark of Spanish nationality.

Don Baltazar de Cisneros did all he could to prevent the extent of this

disaster from being known in Buenos Aires, but it was impossible to keep

it long concealed. In February, 1810, the minds of men, already excited

by the news from the interior, became still further excited as they

learned the full extent of the great defeat at Ocaña.

Men, no longer fearful of Spanish tyranny, thronged in the streets

walking about in groups unchallenged, shouting boldly one to the other:

"Spain has fallen!"

One day in the last week of February Don Carlos Evaña received a letter

by private hand from General Miranda, who was at that time resident in

London, and who was more active than ever in his revolutionary projects,

as he saw Spain daily sinking lower and lower in her struggle against

France. Enclosed in this letter came another for Don Alfonso Miranda.

Don Carlos had not been near the Miserere for months, but on the evening

of this day he walked out there. He found Don Alfonso and Magdalen

seated in the porch together. Don Alfonso received him very cordially,

and Magdalen, smiling upon him, reproached him for his desertion of

them.

"It is so many months since I have seen you, Don Carlos," she said,

"that I have almost forgotten the sound of your voice; but I went to see

Doña Josefina last week, and she told me about you. You have been

spending these last months very pleasantly, no wonder you forgot us. I

did not think we should ever see you again."

"What nonsense are you talking, Chica?" said Don Alfonso.

But Don Carlos did not seem to think it nonsense, and smiled pleasantly

upon her.

"There is some one who often speaks to me of you," he said. Then

noticing that Magdalen looked troubled at this, he turned to Don Alfonso

and spoke to him.

"To-day I received a letter from your brother the General," he said.

"Every letter is more sanguine than the one before. He sends me an

enclosure for you, which----"

"Go and walk in the garden, Chica," said Don Alfonso, interrupting him.

Then as Magdalen left them he signed to Don Carlos to follow him to the

sala, the door of which he closed before he spoke again.

Magdalen had not walked long in the garden before the gate opened and

Don Ciriaco Asneiros entered. She received him with much less cordiality

than she had formerly shown him. Even the name of Dolores failed to

arouse her to animation, but for some minutes she walked beside him,

listlessly attending to what he said, and answering his questions at

random.

"And the old man?" said Don Ciriaco, tiring at length of this one-sided

conversation.

"He is in the sala," replied Magdalen.

"Let us go and talk to him."

"No, do not go in yet, he has a visitor with him."

"Who is it?"

"The Señor Evaña is with him."

Then Don Ciriaco, leaving her, walked softly up to the sala window,

which was wide open, and bent down, apparently intent upon the

examination of the flowers growing beneath it.

"Don Ciricao!" called Magdalen, "come here, there are some much finer

roses at the other side."

"The time has now come. The people that has not now the courage to

strike for freedom is unworthy to become a nation."

Don Ciriaco had heard the rustling of paper, he had heard the above

words read in a low voice by Don Alfonso. It was enough, he left the

window and went back to Magdalen.

"Your uncle, Don Francisco, when do you expect him here?" he asked her

brusquely.

Magdalen turned pale, looked at him with frightened eyes, and then said

hurriedly:

"My uncle! I did not know he was coming. Papa never told me. My uncle

never writes to papa."

"What is that you tell me?" replied Asneiros. "He is now reading to the

Señor Evaña the letter he received to-day."

"You are mistaken," said Magdalen. "It is the Señor Evaña who has

received a letter from my uncle. They sent me out here, I do not know

anything of it."

Then twining her hands together and with tears of vexation in her eyes,

as she saw him smile at her trouble, she turned from him and sought

refuge in her own room.

* * * * *

Nearly a week after this, Don Carlos Evaña passing along one of the

streets abutting upon the Plaza Mayor, paused to look upon a group of

men who, standing in the open street in front of a large almacen, were

discussing excitedly together, the latest news from Europe.

"I have said to myself that my work is all in vain," he said within

himself. "In all that I have done I have done nothing, men have laughed

at my words, and have scoffed at my ideas as at those of a dreamer. But

has it been all in vain? who has given these men courage to speak such

words as I hear now, in the open street? has not the day already come to

put an end to this absurd farce of allegiance to Spain?"

As he so mused a hand was laid upon his arm, he turned and found himself

face to face with Marcelino Ponce de Leon. In the face of his friend

there beamed a look of pleasure such as he had not seen there for many

months.

"You have heard the news of which those men talk," said Evaña, "and you

are glad."

The smile faded from Marcelino's face, and passing his arm through

Evaña's he led him away up the street. Turning his face from him and

speaking in low tones he said:

"I have news which did make me very joyful, yet now I feel sad.

Look----"

Putting his hand into his pocket, he drew out a letter and showed it to

Evaña. The letter bore an English postmark, the address was in a bold

hand which Evaña recognised at once. For a moment his firm step

faltered, and a deadly pallor overspread his cheek, but it was for a

moment only, the next he asked calmly:

"How did he escape?"

"He never sailed in the _Petrel_," replied Marcelino.

For a minute or two they walked on in silence, then Evaña spoke again.

"But you have not answered my question," he said. "Is not the day at

hand? are we not already a free people?"

"Alas! it is too true. Spain has fallen," said Marcelino.

Again they walked on in silence; again Evaña was the first to speak.

"I have been idle," said he, "but the work has been done for me, while I

have been asleep, dreaming. The day has arisen, the dreams of the night

have passed from me."

Then seizing the hand of his friend he pressed it fiercely in his own,

and turning from him strode rapidly away towards his own dwelling.

For two days Don Carlos Evaña shut his door to every visitor, on the

third day he sallied forth and took his way to the house of Don Manuel

Belgrano. He found Don Manuel in his study, and drawing a roll of paper

from his pocket he handed it to him.

Don Manuel spread open the roll on his desk, and glanced over the

papers. They consisted of a series of political articles for the

_Diario_.

"It is too soon," said he, as he turned the last sheet and looked up.

"They would not meet the approval of his Excellency Don Baltazar?"

"I dare not even submit them to his inspection."

"The day is at hand when the editor of the _Diario_ will scorn the

approval of the nominee of Spain," replied Evaña.

* * * * *

Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, walking through the streets of Buenos Aires,

heard the careless comments of the people on the disasters which had

befallen Spain, heard them as Don Carlos Evaña had heard them, but their

effect upon him was far different.

"I have sought to raise this people from their ignorance," said he to

himself; "I have studied their interests and welfare in every measure

which I have adopted; I have even sought the aid of some of the most

intelligent among them in the hope of inspiring them with the true

spirit of patriotism, yet they can rejoice at the misfortunes which have

fallen on my country, upon the country to which they owe the love and

reverence of children to a parent."

So musing bitterly to himself he took his way to the fort. As he passed

through the ante-room leading to the official apartments of the Viceroy,

the door opened of a room in which Don Baltazar de Cisneros was

accustomed to give private audience to such as were most in his

confidence; from this room came forth Don Alfonso Miranda. Don Roderigo

started, an angry frown spread over his features, he returned the

obsequious bow of the medico with a haughty stare, and passed on into

the presence of the Viceroy.

"Your Excellency is perhaps not aware of the character of the man who

has just left you," said he to Don Baltazar, as he closed the door

behind him.

"You speak of Señor Miranda?" replied Don Baltazar.

"I do," said Don Roderigo. "I have just passed through the city, I have

listened to the comments of the Creoles upon the disasters which have

fallen upon Spain, I have come to warn your Excellency that we are on

the eve of a catastrophe."

"And what has that to do with the Señor Miranda?"

"In admitting such a man to your confidence your Excellency runs great

danger, if he visits you, he comes as a spy."

"Yes, but as my spy."

"You are acquainted then with his character, and employ him?"

"I seek to do so, for, before I left Spain, he was named to me as a man

who might be serviceable in procuring for me secret information. I am as

well aware as you that there are dangerous ideas abroad in the city, and

there are some men upon whom I wish to keep watch. The Señor Miranda

visited me at my own request."

"And what has he told you?"

"Nothing; but he has promised to report to me upon the movements of one

man, of whom Marshal Liniers entertained great suspicions, the Señor

Evaña. If this excitement of the people should culminate in any outbreak

against my authority, I am assured that the Señora Evaña will be at the

head of it."

"Do you know that the Señor Miranda is brother to Francisco Miranda of

Venezuela?"

"Of Francisco Miranda! No, I did not know that."

"Your Excellency should enquire more carefully into the antecedents of

the men you trust," said Don Roderigo, with something of contempt in his

tone.

"I was informed that about ten years ago the Señor Miranda gave timely

information to the Consulado of some conspiracy which was thus averted."

"Of a conspiracy invented in his own brain," replied Don Roderigo

angrily; "his information averted no conspiracy, for there was none, but

cast suspicion upon some most loyal Spaniards, and drove some of the

best servants of Spain from her service. I was one of the conspirators

he denounced; think you that I am a less trusty servant of Spain than a

Miranda from Venezuela?"

"Yet you have your ideas," replied Don Baltazar softly, "and you had not

then the experience you have now."

"The experience I have now, teaches me that the ideas I entertained ten

years ago were correct. You have removed the restrictions upon trade,

you admit Creoles to your counsels, such were the steps which I

advocated in the year '98; for this I was denounced by your friend the

Doctor Miranda to the Consulado of Cadiz, and lost my seat in the

Audencia Real."

"You introduced the Señor Evaña to me on my arrival, he is an intimate

friend of yours, but I believe him to be a most dangerous man."

"He is a man who may be of great service to us," replied Don Roderigo;

"I have sought his friendship in order to wean him from the extravagant

ideas he learned during his residence in Europe."

"I am informed that he is about to marry your daughter. You would not

give your daughter to any man suspected of disloyalty?"

"Your Excellency is well informed," said Don Roderigo, smiling.

"Then I will accept your guarantee for the loyalty of the Señor Evaña,

but General Miranda has agents in this city and I suspect that the Señor

Evaña is in correspondence with him."

"The principal correspondent of General Miranda is his brother," replied

Don Roderigo, "that I can prove to you by the testimony of Major

Asneiros, who has been commissioned by me to keep watch on this medico.

Major Asneiros surprised him not a week ago reading to the Señor Evaña a

letter from the General, doubtless with the intention of drawing him

into some conspiracy. If your Excellency were to order the arrest of Don

Alfonso, we should certainly learn from his papers the real nature of

the projects of Don Francisco."

After some further conversation, Don Roderigo took his leave, and an

hour later Major Asneiros sent by him, sought an interview with the

Viceroy. The Major laughed heartily when he heard of the suspicions of

Don Alfonso which Don Roderigo had excited in the mind of Don Baltazar.

"There is one man much more dangerous than the old medico ever can be,"

said Asneiros, "the Señor Evaña. He is the correspondent of General

Miranda, that Don Roderigo knows well enough, and he overrates his

influence with him if he thinks he can prevent him from engaging in any

conspiracy against your authority."

"I have been frequently warned against the Señor Evaña," replied the

Viceroy, "but without proofs of the existence of some conspiracy I dare

take no steps against him, his arrest would only end in a fiasco like

that of Puyrredon. How did you discover that he is in correspondence

with Don Francisco?"

Then Asneiros recounted to Don Baltazar how he had surprised a

confession of this fact from Magdalen Miranda, and continued:

"When she left me I went in after her and walked straight to the sala.

Don Alfonso had an open letter in his hand which he crumpled up and

thrust into his pocket. The Señor Evaña looked at me as though I were a

wild beast, and soon afterwards put on his hat and went, but Don Alfonso

kept the letter, and has it yet I don't doubt, for I know he has some

secret hiding-place in his house. If we could get that letter we might

find some proof against the Señor Evaña."

"I agree with you, in spite of the assurances of Don Roderigo, that

Evaña is a most dangerous man," replied the Viceroy, "but I have every

confidence in Don Roderigo himself, and shall entrust the management of

this affair to him; if he instructs you to arrest Don Alfonso, do so,

but remember, that what I want is a proof that the Señor Evaña is

engaged in some conspiracy--proof such as I can show to Don Roderigo and

to the Audencia Real, then I can proceed against the Señor Evaña without

danger of having my orders set at defiance."

* * * * *

That evening Don Ciriaco set off alone on foot, for the Plaza Miserere.

He reached the Quinta de Don Alfonso, opened the gate very cautiously,

and walking to the sala window looked in. The medico was alone, seated

in his arm-chair, buried apparently in deep thought, a shaded lamp

burning on the table at his elbow. Don Ciriaco went back to the porch,

and finding the house door open, entered very quietly and went in to the

sala, treading softly and laying his finger on his lip. Alfonso started

up with a faint cry, then sank down again into his chair, pale and

trembling, as he recognised his untimely visitor. Asneiros went up to

him, laid one hand on his arm, and whispered into his ear:

"Silence! all is discovered; but I have arranged a way for you to save

yourself."

"What is discovered? I assure you I know nothing of it," answered Don

Alfonso.

"I have come with the intention of helping you. If you wish me to be of

any service to you, you must give me your entire confidence."

"But I assure you I refused to have anything to do with it, and would

not listen to what he wished to tell me."

"The Senor Evaña spent the evening with you?"

"Yes, he did, but I kept my daughter with me, he could not speak with

me."

"And the letter from your brother, did you return it to him?"

"What letter?"

"The letter he brought to show you last week."

"Mi Dios! Why should I return it to him? Why should I give him my

letters? I burned it."

"You did badly, and you should have listened to the Señor Evaña this

evening, he had something important to tell you."

"What matters to me that newspaper or the education of the people?"

"Look you, Don Alfonso, I did not come here to talk nonsense about

newspapers or education. If you refuse me your confidence, I cannot help

you. Your name is in the list of the suspected, but the head of the

conspiracy is this Señor Evaña. Give me all the papers he has given you

to keep for him, and I have a promise from the Viceroy that you shall

not be molested in any way."

"The Señor Evaña has never given me any paper of his."

"Then I cannot help you at all," said Asneiros, rising from the chair on

which he had seated himself. "Sleep well to-night in your own bed,

to-morrow night you will sleep in the calabozo."

"Dios mio! Don Ciriaco," said Don Alfonso, seizing him by the arm, "what

have I done? Why should they put me in the calabozo? I would not even

listen to the Señor Evaña when he wished to speak to me of things."

"You did wrong not to listen, you might have learned something, and your

evidence against Evaña would have saved yourself. But perhaps it is not

too late, I will give you three days, after that I cannot protect you

any longer; you will be arrested, your house searched, and all your

effects confiscated."

"But, Don Ciriaco, do not leave me. Why do you say such things? You say

there is some conspiracy, if there is I know nothing of it. The Señor

Evaña has never spoken of it to me, how can I give evidence against him?

Don Baltazar asked me----"

"A conspiracy there is, and we will know all about it very soon. Don

Baltazar de Cisneros is not like that Frenchman Liniers, the least

punishment the conspirators may expect will be imprisonment and

confiscation. Take care of yourself, you do not appear very rich, but

everything you have will be confiscated."

Don Alfonso fell back in his chair with a groan.

"I am not a conspirator, and I am very poor. God help me!" he said.

"But, Don Ciriaco, you have always been a good friend to me, even yet

you may do something for me; even if they put me in prison you will not

let them search the house, you will prevent that. Why should they, I

have nothing worth the trouble of carrying away."

"You can prevent it yourself; if you have no papers belonging to the

Señor Evaña, you can find them."

Just then the door opened and Magdalen entered the room. Seeing the

miserable state of her father she ran to him.

"Papa! papa!" she said, throwing herself on his breast, "what has this

man been saying to you? Do not believe a word he says, I know that he

comes here as your friend to do some treachery to you. Pay no attention

to him."

"Look you, Don Alfonso," said Asneiros, "I give you three days to find

those papers. If you do not find them you will explain to the Viceroy,

and not to me, why you have secret hiding-places cut in the walls of

your house."

At that, Don Alfonso thrust his daughter from him, and gazing with

terror-stricken eyes at Asneiros tried in vain to speak, but Asneiros,

turning from him went out through the door and through the porch and

walked rapidly away.

Don Alfonso passed a sleepless night sitting in his arm-chair moaning

and lamenting, Magdalen doing all she could to comfort him, till he

sternly bade her leave him, saying that she had brought all this trouble

upon him by attracting Asneiros to the quinta.

The next day Don Alfonso walked into the city, went straight to the

house of Don Carlos Evaña, and told him everything that had occurred on

the previous night, after he had left the quinta. Evaña listened

somewhat scornfully, but looking at the haggard cheeks and blood-shot

eyes of the old man, he felt pity for him.

"He wants proofs of a conspiracy? Pues! He shall have them. Here is all

the conspiracy that there is," said he, taking up a copy of the _Diario_

which lay upon the table, "and his Excellency the Viceroy is at the head

of us. We are conspiring to educate the people, and I fully believe that

the Señor Asneiros is correct in thinking that it imperils the existence

of Spanish rule among us."

Don Alfonso looked helplessly at him, and answered:

"He spoke of a letter from my brother, how has he come to know of that?

The letter you gave me from him I have burned, I kept it two days, then

I burned it. I always do, I want no letters from Francisco. What matters

to me his plans, all that I want is to live in peace. Cannot you help me

in some way? You told me that the time of arrests and confiscations was

gone, and I lived without fear, but it appears that is all to begin

again."

"You think so! I can assure you that those times are gone, never to

return."

"And he assures me that in three days I shall be put into the calabozo."

"That will not do you any great damage, and may help the cause of the

people. It would be a scandal, for nothing can be even alleged against

you, and we shall soon get you out again. Now that I think of it, it is

well that you be arrested, the city is very quiet and an arbitrary

arrest might arouse a little excitement."

"Don Carlos!" exclaimed Don Alfonso, "what is this you say to me? They

will search my house and rob me."

"Rob you! unless you have some treasure buried away under the flooring I

don't think they will rob you of much."

"No, Don Carlos, no! I assure you I have no treasure. You know how poor

I am. What can I have to bury under the floor?"

Don Carlos looked at him attentively one moment, then taking up the

_Diario_, he folded it carefully into a small oblong packet, wrapped it

in a sheet of paper, which he carefully sealed with three seals, and

drawing an inkstand towards him, endorsed it:

_Proofs of the nefarious Conspiracy against the People of

Buenos Aires, entertained by H. E. Don Baltazar de Cisneros,

with the aid of Don Carlos Avaña and various others._

"I cannot compliment you on your choice of friends, Don Alfonso," he

said, handing him the packet; "but when this distinguished major, the

Señor Asneiros, next visits you, you can give him this as a proof of my

treason. If after that he wishes to arrest me let him come, I am ready

for him."

"But, Señor Don Carlos," said Don Alfonso, holding the packet at arm's

length, "if I give him this he will say that I am mocking him, and then

they will arrest me, and----"

"When do you expect him to visit you?"

"The day after to-morrow, in the evening."

"Then the day after to-morrow in the evening he shall meet me. If he

should visit you in the meantime you can easily put him off."

The second day after this, about sundown, Don Carlos Evaña and Marcelino

Ponce de Leon rode side by side through the suburbs towards the

Miserere.

"You have judged rightly, Carlos," said Marcelino. "Any misfortune that

might befall the old man would cause her great sorrow, and I thank you

for asking me to assist you in anything that may keep a sorrow from

her."

"Yet she treated you very badly," said Don Carlos. "She led you to feel

sure of her love, and then transferred her affections with the greatest

ease to that traitor of a Spaniard."

"I do not think so, she loved me once. But her father wishes it, he

never liked me, and she submits."

"It is strange, I always thought her a girl of much strength of

character. Did you ever tell her that you loved her?"

"Not in so many words, but she knew it; an avowal of love needs no

words. But it is now more than a year since I have had a chance of

speaking with her, she shuns me. When we meet she will not let me pay

her the simplest attention. She has not forgotten me, but she is trying

to forget me."

"Perhaps we have been mistaken all the time."

"Oh no, I made sure, I asked my aunt Josefina, and she told me that they

were only waiting till Asneiros got some settled employ which the

Viceroy had promised him."

"That will all be at an end now."

"I suppose it will, but it will make no difference to me, her father

will find another husband for her. When a girl once gives up her own

choice at her father's command it matters very little to her whom she

marries. You and I have seen many instances of that."

"Too many," replied Evaña.

After this they rode on in silence till they reached the quinta, where

they dismounted, tying their horses under the trees behind the house.

In the porch they found Magdalen, sitting alone, with her face buried in

her hands, weeping bitterly. From inside the house came the sound of a

voice raised high in anger.

"Do not weep, Magdalen," said Marcelino, bending over her. "Don Alfonso

has two fast friends here, who will see that no injustice is done him."

Magdalen's tears ceased instantly at the sound of that voice, and a

thrill of joy shot through her as she looked up and met the glance of

the dark eyes bent upon her in tender sympathy.

"Oh, help papa!" she said. "Do not let them take him, he has done

nothing."

"I will remain with Magdalen," said Don Carlos, seating himself beside

her. "You are more likely to arrange the matter amicably than I am, he

always shows great respect for you. Go you and see what this is all

about."

Marcelino went instantly to the sala, and, opening the door, saw Don

Alfonso, hardly able to stand, clinging to the back of a chair, while

Asneiros, standing in the centre of the room, was speaking to him.

"You are mocking me," he said. "I know where to find these proofs if I

choose to look. If that letter is burned you can procure another, or you

can make a declaration, which will do as well. I wished to give you the

chance of setting yourself right with the authorities. You refuse; well

go your own way, and do not blame me if your house is robbed while you

are in gaol."

"Señor Asneiros," said Marcelino, stepping forward, "this is not the

tone in which you should speak to a man whose hairs are white with age.

Permit me, Don Alfonso," he added, turning a chair round and assisting

the medico to seat himself.

"Señor Don Marcelino," said Asneiros, softening his tone considerably,

"it is a fortunate chance that has sent you here."

"It is no chance at all, Señor Asneiros," replied Marcelino; "I heard

that you were threatening Don Alfonso with imprisonment for complicity

in some conspiracy which exists only in your own imagination. What may

be your real purpose I do not care to enquire, but I insist upon it that

you leave this house immediately."

"Señor Don Marcelino, I assure you that I am only acting under orders,

and am actuated by the most friendly motives to Don Alfonso. There are

grave causes of suspicion against him, and I have shown him the means by

which he can set himself right with the authorities."

"You wish him to save himself by bringing a false accusation against

some one else. Enough of that, Señor Asneiros. Don Alfonso knows nothing

of any conspiracy, and can in no way assist you."

"You speak well, you speak well, Don Marcelino," said Don Alfonso, still

in great perturbation; "there is no conspiracy, but do not speak harshly

to this gentleman. He has been a good friend to me on many occasions,

and will protect me. Is it not so, Don Ciriaco? You will tell his

Excellency that you have made every enquiry, and have found that there

is no truth in the accusations that have been laid against me."

"I shall have the honour of reporting to his Excellency what you have

told me, but I hope that further consideration may induce you to take a

wiser course."

So saying, Asneiros took up his hat, and with a low bow to Marcelino

left the room.

In the porch he was somewhat startled to find Don Carlos Evaña in

earnest conversation with Magdalen, but passed them without a word and

walked away.

"He knows nothing, and cannot assist me in any way," he muttered to

himself as he slowly crossed the Plaza Miserere; "but I should like to

have the inspection of that black coffer of his, he has some reason for

keeping it so secret. Don Roderigo would be glad of any pretext for

putting him in prison and looking through his papers. I'll give him one,

who knows but I may do myself a service too?"

Don Carlos and Marcelino remained for two hours longer at the quinta,

and had the pleasure of drinking tea once more from the porcelain cups

of Magdalen Miranda, but the evening was not a pleasant one to any of

them--there was a general feeling of constraint. Don Alfonso trembled at

every noise, and was more than usually taciturn; Magdalen seemed

confused, and spoke only in whispers.

As the two friends rode back to the city together through the darkness,

Don Carlos spoke.

"I told her of the reports that are in circulation concerning her and

this Señor Asneiros," he said. "It may be her father's wish but it is

not hers, nor does she think that the major has any idea of it. She says

that he has been a constant spy upon her father for more than a year

past, and that she warned her father of him, but that he refused to

listen to her."

"Poor girl!" said Marcelino, and then rode on in moody silence, hardly

hearing a word of what Evaña said after that, till they reached the

centre of the city and separated.

* * * * *

When Asneiros left the Miserere he walked straight to the house of Don

Roderigo Ponce de Leon, with whom he had a long interview, the result of

which was, that at midnight a party of soldiers, under the command of

the major, proceeded to the Quinta de Don Alfonso, woke up the inmates

by knocking at the door, and shouted to them to "open in the name of

the law." Don Alfonso was arrested and his private room rigorously

searched, but for some time nothing worthy of notice was found, till

Asneiros, prodding the wall behind the bedstead with his sword,

discovered a hollow carefully concealed by the wainscot. Not knowing how

to open it, he ordered a panel to be wrenched away, and disclosed a

small coffer of black oak, bound with brass and very heavy, which he

took away with him, together with all the letters and written papers he

could find, while Don Alfonso, more dead than alive, was lifted into a

small cart and driven away to the Cabildo, where he was imprisoned in

the same apartment which had formerly been occupied by Marcelino Ponce

de Leon.

During the examination of Don Alfonso's room all the inmates of the

quinta had been, by the major's command, imprisoned in the sala. When he

had secured the black coffer he prosecuted the search no further, but

proceeding to the sala, ordered Don Alfonso to come out alone, saying

that he merely wished to speak with him for a minute. Magdalen appeared

with her father, clinging to him, when Asneiros rudely pushed her back

into the room and shut the door, placing a guard there with instructions

to allow no one to leave the house before sunrise.

On the morning following this arrest Don Fausto Velasquez, who was an

early riser, was walking about in his patio, wrapped in a loose

dressing-gown, when a girl, enveloped from head to foot in a large

shawl, hurriedly came in through the open doorway, and, throwing herself

upon her knees at his feet, caught his hand in both her own, crying:

"Papa! Don Fausto, papa! They have taken him! Don Ciriaco----"

She could say no more, and would have fallen on her face, but Don

Fausto, taking her in his arms, raised her up and saw it was Magdalen.

He carried her inside into his wife's room, where she presently

recovered sufficiently to give a clear account of what had happened, but

it was a long time before Don Fausto could persuade her that her father

was in no danger, and would very soon be set at liberty.

Don Alfonso was but little known in the city, and those who did know him

had but small respect for him, yet in the then excited state of the

public mind, a very slight circumstance was sufficient to create great

agitation. Men enquired eagerly one of another who was this Don Alfonso

Miranda, and what was the cause of his imprisonment; and when they

learned that he was the brother of General Miranda, whose exploits in

Venezuela had caused him to be looked upon as the champion of liberty by

all Spanish Americans, his crime became clear to them at once--he had

dared to devise some scheme for liberating them from Spanish tyranny,

and in their eyes he rose to be a hero and a martyr.

Groups of men paraded the Plaza Mayor and the principal streets, as they

met they asked one another in loud voices:

"How long shall these things be?"