The next two days I passed in feverish restlessness. Holingsworth's
conduct had quite disconcerted my plans. From the concluding sentences
of Isolina's note, I had construed an invitation to revisit the hacienda
in some more quiet guise than that of a filibustero; but after what had
transpired, I could not muster courage to present myself under any
pretence. It was not likely I should be welcome--I, the associate--nay,
the commander--of the man who had attempted to take the life of a
nephew--a cousin! Don Ramon had stipulated for a "little rudeness;" he
had had the full measure of his bargain, and a good deal more. He could
not otherwise than think so. Were I to present myself at the hacienda,
I could not be else than coldly received--in short, unwelcome.
I thought of apologies and pretexts, but to no purpose. For two days I
remained in vacillating indecision; I neither saw nor heard of her who
engrossed my thoughts.
News from head-quarters! A "grand ball" to be given in the city!
This bit of gossip fell upon my ear without producing the slightest
impression, for I cared little for dancing, and less for grand balls; in
early youth I had liked both; but not then.
The thing would at once have passed from my thoughts, had it not been
for some additional information imparted at the same time, which to me
at once rendered the ball attractive.
The information I allude to was, that the ball was got up "by
authority," and would be upon a grand scale. Its object was political;
in other words, it was to be the means of bringing about a friendly
intercourse between the conquerors and the conquered--a desirable end.
Every effort would be made to draw out the "native society," and let
them see that we Yankee officers were not such "barbarians" as they
affected to deem, and in reality pronounced us. It was known--so stated
my informant--that many families of the Ayankieados would be present;
and in order to make it pleasanter for those who feared _proscription_,
the ball was to be a masked one--_un baile de mascara_.
"The Ayankieados are to be there! and she--"
My heart bounded with new hope: and I resolved to make one of the
maskers--not that I intended to go in _costume_. In my slender wardrobe
was a civilian dress proper cut, and tolerably well preserved: that
would answer my purpose. The ball was to come off on the night
following that on which I had word of it. My suspense would be short.
The time appeared long enough, but at length the he arrived, and,
mounting my good steed, I started off for the city. A brisk ride of two
hours brought me on the ground, and I found that I was late enough to be
fashionable.
As I entered the ball-room, I saw that most of the company had arrived,
and the floor was grouped with dancers. It was evident the affair was a
"success." There were four or five hundred persons present, nearly half
of them ladies. Many were in character costumes, as Tyrolese peasants,
Andalusian _majas_, Bavarian broom-girls, Wallachian boyards, Turkish
sultanas, and bead-bedecked Indian belles. A greater number were
disguised in the ungraceful domino, while not a few appeared in regular
evening dress. Most of the ladies wore masks; some simply hid their
faces behind the coquettish _reboso topado_, while others permitted
their charms to be gazed upon. As the time passed on, and an occasional
_copita de vino_ strengthened the nerves of the company, the uncovered
faces became more numerous, and masks got lost or put away.
As for the gentlemen, a number of them also wore masks--some were in
costume, but uniforms predominated, stamping the ball with a military
character. It was not a little singular to see a number of _Mexican_
officers mingling in the throng! These were of course prisoners on
_parole_; and their more brilliant uniforms, of French patterns,
contrasted oddly with the plain blue dresses of their conquerors. The
presence of these prisoners, in the full glitter of their gold-lace, was
not exactly in good taste; but a moment's reflection convinced one it
was not a matter of choice with them. Poor fellows! had they abided by
the laws of etiquette, they could not have been there; and no doubt they
were as desirous of shaking their legs in the dance as the gayest of
their captors. Indeed, in this species of rivalry they far outstripped
the latter.
I spent but little time in observing these peculiarities; but one idea
engrossed my mind, and that was to find Isolina de Vargas--no easy task
amid such a multitude of maskers.
Among the uncovered faces she was not. I soon scanned them all, or
rather glanced at them. It needed no scanning to recognise hers. If
there, she was one of the _mascaritas_, and I addressed myself to a
close observation of the _dames en costume_ and the dominoes. Hopeless
enough appeared the prospect of recognising her, but a little hope
sustained me in the reflection, that, being myself uncovered, she might
recognise _me_.
When a full half-hour had passed away, and my lynx-like surveillance was
still unrewarded, this hope died within me; and, what may appear
strange, I began to wish she was _not_ there.
"If present," thought I, "she must have seen me ere this, and to have
taken no notice--"
A little pang of chagrin accompanied this reflection.
I flung myself upon a seat, and endeavoured to assume an air of
indifference, though I was far from feeling indifferent, and my eyes as
before kept eagerly scanning the fair masters. Now and then, the
_tournure_ of an ankle--I had seen Isolina's--or the elliptical sweep of
a fine figure, inspired me with fresh hope: but as the mascaritas who
owned them were near enough to have seen, and yet took no notice of me,
I conjectured--in fact, _hoped_--that none of them was she. Indeed, a
well-turned ankle is no distinctive mark among the fair _doncellas_ of
Mexico.
At length, a pair of unusually neat ones, supporting a figure of such
superb outlines, that even the ungraceful domino could not conceal them,
came under my eyes, and riveted my attention. My heart beat wildly as I
gazed. I could not help the belief that the lady in the yellow domino
was Isolina de Vargas.
She was waltzing with a young dragoon officer; and as they passed me I
rose from my seat, and approached the orbit of the dance, in order to
keep them under my eyes.
As they passed me a second time, I fancied the lady regarded me through
her mask: I fancied I saw her start. I was almost sure it was Isolina!
My feeling was now that of jealousy. The young officer was one of the
elegant gentlemen of the service--a professed lady killer--a fellow,
who, notwithstanding his well-known deficiency of brains, was ever
welcome among women. She seemed to press closely to him as they whirled
around, while her head rested languishingly upon his shoulder. She
appeared to be _contented_ with her partner. I could scarcely endure
the agony of my fancies. It was a relief to me when the music ceased
and the waltz ended.
The circle broke up, and the waltzers scattered in different directions,
but my eyes followed only the dragoon officer and his partner. He
conducted her to a seat, and then placing himself by her side, the two
appeared to engage in an earnest and interesting conversation.
With me politeness was now out of the question. I had grown as jealous
as a tiger; and I drew near enough become a listener. The lowness of
the tone in which conversed precluded the possibility of my hearing much
of what was said, but I could make out that the spark was "coaxing" his
partner to remove her mask. The voice that replied was surely
Isolina's!
I could myself have torn the silken screen from her face through very
vexation; but I was saved that indiscretion, for the request of her
cavalier seemed to prevail, and the next instant the mask was removed by
the lady's own hand.
Shade of Erebus! what did I see? She was black--a _negress_! Not black
as ebony, but nearly so; with thick lips, high cheek-bones, and a row of
short "kinky" curls dangling over the arch of her glistening forehead!
My astonishment, though perhaps of a more agreeable kind, was not
greater than that of the dragoon lieutenant--who, by the way, was also a
full-blooded "Southerner." At sight of his partner's face he started,
as if a six-pound shot had winded him; and after a few half-muttered
excuses, he rose with an air of extreme _gaucherie_, and hurrying off,
hid himself behind the crowd!
The "coloured lady," mortified--as I presumed she must be--hastily
readjusted her mask, and rising from her seat, glided away from the
scene of her humiliation.
I gazed after her with a mingled feeling of curiosity and pity; I saw
her pass out of the door alone, evidently with the intention of leaving
the ball.
I fancied she had departed, as her domino, conspicuous by its bright
yellow colour, was no more seen among the maskers.