MYSTERY
The conference lasted for some time longer, but we omit what followed as
not being necessary to a clear understanding of our story. At last they
separated, Señor Don Inocencio remaining to the last, as usual. Before
the canon and Doña Perfecta had had time to exchange a word, an elderly
woman, Doña Perfecta’s confidential servant and her right hand, entered
the dining-room, and her mistress, seeing that she looked disturbed and
anxious, was at once filled with disquietude, suspecting that something
wrong was going on in the house.
“I can’t find the señorita anywhere,” said the servant, in answer to her
mistress’ questions.
“Good Heavens--Rosario! Where is my daughter?”
“Virgin of Succor protect us!” cried the Penitentiary, taking up his hat
and preparing to hurry out with Doña Perfecta.
“Search for her well. But was she not with you in her room?”
“Yes, señora,” answered the old woman, trembling, “but the devil tempted
me, and I fell asleep.”
“A curse upon your sleep! What is this? Rosario, Rosario! Librada!”
They went upstairs and came down again, they went up a second time
and came down again; carrying a light and looking carefully in all the
rooms. At last the voice of the Penitentiary was heard saying joyfully
from the stairs:
“Here she is, here she is! She has been found.”
A moment later mother and daughter were standing face to face in the
hall.
“Where were you?” asked Doña Perfecta, in a severe voice, scrutinizing
her daughter’s face closely.
“In the garden,” answered the girl, more dead than alive.
“In the garden at this hour? Rosario!”
“I was warm, I went to the window, my handkerchief dropped out, and I
came down stairs for it!”
“Why didn’t you ask Librada to get it for you? Librada! Where is that
girl? Has she fallen asleep too?”
Librada at last made her appearance. Her pale face revealed the
consternation and the apprehension of the delinquent.
“What is this? Where were you?” asked her mistress, with terrible anger.
“Why, señora, I came down stairs to get the clothes out of the front
room--and I fell asleep.”
“Every one here seems to have fallen asleep to-night. Some of you, I
fancy, will not sleep in my house to-morrow night. Rosario, you may go.”
Comprehending that it was necessary to act with promptness and energy,
Doña Perfecta and the canon began their investigations without delay.
Questions, threats, entreaties, promises, were skilfully employed to
discover the truth regarding what had happened. Not even the shadow
of guilt was found to attach to the old servant; but Librada confessed
frankly between tears and sighs all her delinquencies, which we will sum
up as follows:
Shortly after his arrival in the house Señor Pinzon had begun to cast
loving glances at Señorita Rosario. He had given money to Librada,
according to what the latter said, to carry messages and love-letters to
her. The young lady had not seemed angry, but, on the contrary, pleased,
and several days had passed in this manner. Finally, the servant
declared that Rosario and Señor Pinzon had agreed to meet and talk with
each other on this night at the window of the room of the latter, which
opened on the garden. They had confided their design to the maid, who
promised to favor it, in consideration of a sum which was at once given
her. It had been agreed that Señor Pinzon was to leave the house at his
usual hour and return to it secretly at nine o’clock, go to his room,
and leave it and the house again, clandestinely also, a little later,
to return, without concealment, at his usual late hour. In this way no
suspicion would fall upon him. Librada had waited for Pinzon, who had
entered the house closely enveloped in his cloak, without speaking a
word. He had gone to his room at the same moment in which the young
lady descended to the garden. During the interview, at which she was not
present, Librada had remained on guard in the hall to warn Pinzon, if
any danger should threaten; and at the end of an hour the latter had
left the house enveloped in his cloak, as before, and without speaking
a word. When the confession was ended Don Inocencio said to the wretched
girl:
“Are you sure that the person who came into and went out of the house
was Señor Pinzon?”
The culprit answered nothing, but her features expressed the utmost
perplexity.
Her mistress turned green with anger.
“Did you see his face?”
“But who else could it be but he?” answered the maid. “I am certain that
it was he. He went straight to his room--he knew the way to it perfectly
well.”
“It is strange,” said the canon. “Living in the house there was no
need for him to use such mystery. He might have pretended illness and
remained in the house. Does it not seem so to you, señora?”
“Librada,” exclaimed the latter, in a paroxysm of anger, “I vow that you
shall go to prison.”
And clasping her hands, she dug the nails of the one into the other with
such force as almost to draw blood.
“Señor Don Inocencio,” she exclaimed, “let us die--there is no remedy
but to die.”
Then she burst into a fit of inconsolable weeping.
“Courage, señora,” said the priest, in a moved voice. “Courage--now it
is necessary to be very brave. This requires calmness and a great deal
of courage.
“Mine is immense,” said Señora de Polentinos, in the midst of her sobs.
“Mine is very small,” said the canon; “but we shall see, we shall see.”