The first lieutenant returned to the frigate about half an hour after
Frank and his sister had left, and was delighted to hear that the
American consul had sent for them. Soon after he had made his report,
the count ordered his boat, and left the ship. Supposing that he was
summoned ashore by some of the letters he had received, the old
lieutenant little dreamed that the departure of his commander, in any
manner, had reference to the orphans. He believed them safe, and with
many claims upon his attention, dismissed them readily from his mind.
The count steered his boat to the usual landing-place, and hiring a
caleche, proceeded directly to the western gate. Here he was detained
but a moment, for the officer immediately coming out, recognized his
rank, and he was allowed to pass. Impatient of delay he took the reins
himself, and drove with a speed proportioned to the ardor of his
licentious passion, and his vindictive yearning, by its gratification,
to wreak vengeance upon her lover—whose hand he felt sure had before
frustrated him. There was a near cut through a neighboring plantation,
which struck a road leading to the rear of his hacienda, and saved
upward of two miles in distance. As he was well acquainted with the
owner of the plantation, without hesitation he took the road through it.
Once or twice he thought that he heard the sound of horses’ hoofs at a
rapid pace ahead of him, but the rattling of the vehicle he was in
rendered the sound uncertain, and he took it for granted that he was
mistaken. When he reached the rear of the building he alighted, and
liberally recompensing the driver, opened the postern gate with a key he
carried, and proceeded directly to the house. To the attendant who
obeyed his summons, he said impatiently,
“The young lady, where is she?”
“In her chamber,” was the reply, and in obedience to a gesture of the
count, the servant proceeded along the corridor and approached an
apartment at its extremity.
“Fools! Why have they put her there?” muttered the count.
“Señor?”
“Stand aside, sir!” and pushing by, he threw open the door and entered
the apartment. As he did so, he started back appalled and terrified.
Propped on a bed, catching her breath with difficulty, was a dying
woman. The blood was streaming from her mouth, and at each respiration
gurgled in her throat. It was the young, the once pure and lovely
Esperanza, the sister of Gonzalez. By the bedside stood the brother,
regarding him with a look of fixed and deadly hatred. But he moved not
his arm from the sinking form it supported. The unhappy girl with
staring eyes and outstretched hands, uttering inarticulate and guttural
sounds, strove in vain to speak to them. In the effort the attenuated
chords of life were snapped asunder, and she fell back a corpse.
“Conde de Ureña,” said Gonzalez, “behold your work! I came here to
protect the victim of your present plot—little dreaming of the sight
that awaited me. That poor girl must be avenged! You or I, one or both,
must bear Esperanza company.” As he looked toward the bed his voice
softened with emotion, but recovering himself instantly, he advanced to
the door and bolted it; then drawing a pair of pistols from his bosom,
he sternly added as he presented them, “take your choice.”
“Not now! not here! to-morrow! any time! any where else!” said the
count, his cheek blanched and his brow beaded with perspiration.
“Here! Upon this spot! This very instant!” shouted Gonzalez. “Vile
seducer and murderer,” he added, “you have killed your man! Where is
your vaunted courage? Will that arouse you?” and he struck him a fierce
blow. The count’s face flushed, he clutched the weapon, and turning to
Gonzalez with a look as vindictive as his own, sternly motioned him to
take his position. How corroding is the effect of vice! Time was when
the unhappy nobleman would have shrunk in horror from the contaminating
touch of one guilty of a crime, the dreadful consequences of which, in
all the appalling majesty of death, were then before him. And yet, more
fiend-like than such a wretch, he stood in all the concentrated hatred
of a duelist, prepared to take the life of the brother of his victim. By
a career of vice, the once honorable man had been converted into a
demon.
The combatants confronted each other, leveled their weapons, and fired
so simultaneously that the reports sounded as one. The pistol of
Gonzalez was struck from his hand and one of his fingers shattered.
Heedless of the pain, as the reverberation ceased, he bent forward to
see if his adversary were unhurt. Partially concealed by a spiral wreath
of smoke, the count stood seemingly unscathed before him. But the moment
after his weapon dropped, he pressed his hand to his side, and casting a
look of anguish and despair upon the corpse of the woman he had ruined,
tottered, reeled, and fell heavily upon the floor! The threat of
Gonzales was verified. Almost instantaneously, two souls were summoned
to their dread account.
When Gonzalez sprung upon the boatman from behind, he took him so much
by surprise that he had hurled him over and pointed a dagger to his
throat before he could muster presence of mind enough to defend himself.
“Villain,” said Gonzalez, “lie still, and answer me truly, or I pin you
to the earth. I already know enough to tell if you deceive me. As you
value your life, say where has that carriage gone?”
“A la hacienda Frangipina, señor.”
“Why doesn’t it go to Mariel, as first intended?”
“Yo no say, señor.”
“Will you swear that what you tell me is true?”
“Si, señor, por mi alma.”
“Pshaw! Your soul is forfeit.”
“Por la Señora Nuestra.”
“Well, I’ll believe you, for my countrymen never deceive when they swear
‘by our Lady.’”
He then permitted him to rise, and proceeded to question him further. He
soon found that the ruffian could be as readily employed to defeat as to
forward a nefarious plot. Gonzalez knew the hacienda well, and with the
aid of the boatman procured a horse and was enabled to reach it some ten
minutes before the count. Like the latter, he too had asked for la
señorita, (the young lady,) and by a similar mistake of the servant, who
knew nothing of the plot, he was shown to his sister’s chamber. He had
heard of her ruin, but knew not that she had been decoyed from their
father’s roof. He found her very ill, and her agitation at seeing him
brought on a profuse and fatal hemorrhage. All this, let it be borne in
mind, occurred before the carriage had entered the grounds.
When Frank recovered his consciousness in the closet where he was
confined, he could not conceive where he was, or what had befallen him.
By slow degrees the events of the night were recalled to his
recollection, and in great alarm he began to grope about in the
darkness. When he found the door, and vainly tried to open it, he
knocked and shouted loud and vehemently. The landlord and several
others, astonished at the uproar, hurried to the parlor and threw open
the closet-door. To their rapid and noisy questioning he could only
reply in his own tongue, which was to them unintelligible. When,
however, by his gestures, the landlord understood that he complained of
ill treatment in his house, he swore that the stranger must be some
robber, who had concealed himself in the closet, and that some one in
passing had locked the door. Improbable as was this supposition, in face
of the mark of the blow which Frank exhibited, all present concurred in
professing that they believed it true. A police officer was accordingly
sent for, and the unhappy youth taken to the guard-house. The next
morning he was summoned before the alcalde, who, too indolent to send to
the frigate to identify the prisoner, and, to do him justice, wholly
discrediting the latter’s statement of being thrust into the closet,
condemned him to be transported for six months to the Castle St. Juan de
Utloa, off Vera Cruz, the last place held by Spain on the eastern shore
of North America, and next to the last held by her on the continent.
Frank was taken immediately on board of a transport filled with troops
and convicts, the first to recruit the garrison, the last to assist in
repairs of the old, and the construction of additional fortifications.
The youth, although well-grown, it was evident was not accustomed to,
and could not perform manual labor. The alcalde had therefore sent a
message to the commander of the detachment, recommending that he should
be assigned to some light employment. The magistrate saw that the youth
was a foreigner, he believed him to be a vagrant if nothing else, and he
knew that hands of all descriptions were needed at that fortress. He
therefore made no inquiries. That afternoon the transport sailed.