I walked thoughtfully back, because, after rendering that unimportant
service to Marcos, I began to experience sundry qualms of conscience
and inward questionings concerning the strict morality of the whole
proceeding. Allowing that I had done something very kind, charitable,
and altogether praiseworthy in getting the poor fellow's unfortunate
feet out of the stocks, did all that justify the cajolery I had
practised to attain my object? Or, to put it briefly in the old familiar
way: Does the end sanctify the means? Assuredly it does in some cases,
very easy to be imagined. Let us suppose that I have a beloved friend,
an ailing person of a nervous, delicate organisation, who has taken it
into his poor cracked brains that he is going to expire at the stroke of
twelve on a given night. Without consulting the authorities on ethical
questions, I should, in such a case, flit about his room secretly
manipulating his timepieces, till I had advanced them a whole hour, and
then, just before the stroke of midnight, triumphantly produce my watch
and inform him that death had failed to keep the appointment. Such an
acted lie as that would weigh nothing on the conscience of any man. The
fact of the matter is, the circumstances must always be considered and
every case judged on its own particular merits. Now, this affair of
getting the key was not one for me to judge, since Ihad been a chief
actor in it, but rather for some acute and learned casuist. I therefore
made a mental note of it, with the intention of putting it impartially
before the first person of that description I should meet. Having thus
disposed of a troublesome matter, I felt greatly relieved in mind, and
turned into the kitchen once more. I had scarcely sat down, however,
before I round that one disagreeable consequence of my performance--the
fat señora's claim on my undying devotion and gratitude--had yet to be
faced. She greeted my entrance with an effusive smile; and the sweetest
smiles of some people one meets are less endurable than their black
looks. In self-defence I assumed as drowsy and vacant an expression as
I could summon on the instant to a countenance by nature almost too
ingenuous. I pretended not to hear, or to misunderstand, everything that
was said to me; finally I grew so sleepy that I was several times on the
point of falling off my chair, then, after each extravagant nod, I
would start up and stare vacantly around me. My grim little host could
scarcely conceal a quiet smile, for never had he seen a person so
outrageously sleepy before. At length he mercifully remarked that I
seemed fatigued, and advised me to retire. Very gladly I made my exit,
followed in my retreat from the kitchen by a pair of sad, reproachful
eyes.
I slept soundly enough in the comfortable bed, which my obese Gulnare
had provided for me, until the numerous cocks of the establishment woke
me shortly after daybreak with their crowing. Remembering that I had
to secure Marcos in the stocks before the irascible little magistrate
should appear on the scene, I rose and hastily dressed myself. I found
the greasy man of the brass buttons already in the kitchen sipping
his matutinal _maté-amargo,_ and asked him to lend me the key of the
prisoner's room; for this was what I had been instructed to do by the
señora. He got up and went with me to open the door himself, not caring,
I suppose, to trust me with the key. When he threw the door open we
stood silently gazing for some time into the empty apartment. The
prisoner had vanished and a large hole cut in the thatch of the roof
showed how and where he had made his exit. I felt very much exasperated
at the shabby trick the fellow had played on us, on me especially, for I
was in a measure responsible for him. Fortunately the man who opened the
door never suspected me of being an accomplice, but merely remarked that
the stocks had evidently been left unlocked by the soldiers the evening
before, so that it was not strange the prisoner had made his escape.
When the other members of the household got up, the matter was discussed
with little excitement or even interest, and I soon concluded that the
secret of the escape would remain between the lady of the house and
myself. She watched for an opportunity to speak to me alone, then,
shaking her fat forefinger at me in playful anger, whispered, “Ah,
deceiver, you planned it all with him last evening and only made me your
instrument!”
“Señora,” I protested, with dignity, “I assure you on the word of
honour of an Englishman, I never suspected the man had any intention of
escaping. I am very angry it has happened.”
“What do you suppose I care about his escaping?” she replied laughingly.
“For your sake, sweet friend, I would gladly open the doors of every
prison in the Banda if I had the power.”
“Ah, how you flatter! But I must now go to your husband to learn from
him what he intends doing with the prisoner who has not attempted to
escape.”
With this excuse I got away from her.
The wretched little Juez, when I spoke to him, put me off with a number
of vague, meaningless phrases about his responsible position, the
peculiar nature of his functions, and the unsettled state of the
republic--as if it had ever known or was ever likely to know any other
state! He then mounted his horse and rode away to Las Cuevas, leaving me
with that dreadful woman; and I verily believe that in doing so he was
only carrying out her private instructions. The only comfort he gave me
was the promise he made before going that a communication respecting me
would be forwarded to the Commandante of the district in the course
of the day, which would probably result in my being passed on to that
functionary. In the meanwhile he begged me to make free use of his house
and everything in it. Of course, the misguided little wretch had no
intention of throwing his fat wife at my head; still, I had no doubt
that it was she who inspired these complimentary phrases, telling him,
perhaps, that he would lose nothing by a courteous treatment of the
“English millionaire.”
When he rode away he left me sitting on the gate, feeling very much
disgusted, and almost wishing that, like Marcos Marcó, I had run away
during the night. Never had I taken so sudden and violent a dislike
to anything as I then and there did to that estancia, where I was an
honoured, albeit a compulsory guest. The hot, brilliant morning
sunshone down on the discoloured thatch and mud-plastered walls of the
sordid-looking building, while all about wherever I cast my eyes they
rested on weeds, old bones, broken bottles, and other rubbish--eloquent
witnesses of the dirty, idle, thriftless character of the inmates.
Meanwhile my sweet, angelic child-wife, with her violet eyes dim with
tears, was waiting for me far away in Montevideo, wondering at my long
absence, and even now perhaps shading her face with her lily hand and
looking out on the white dusty road watching for my arrival! And here
I was compelled to sit, idly swinging my legs on the gate, because that
abominable fat woman had taken a fancy to keep me by her! Feeling
mad with indignation, I suddenly jumped down from the gate with an
exclamation not intended for ears polite, causing my hostess to jump
also and utter a scream; for there she was (confound her!) standing just
behind me.
“The Saints defend me!” she exclaimed, recovering herself and laughing;
“what made you startle me so?”
I apologised for the strong expression I had used; then added, “Señora,
I am a young man full of energy and accustomed to take a great deal of
exercise every day, and I am getting very impatient sitting here basking
in the sunshine, like a turtle on a bank of mud.”
“Why, then, do you not take a walk?” she said, with kind concern.
I said I would gladly do so, and thanked her for the permission; then
she immediately offered to accompany me. I protested very ungallantly
that I was a fast walker, and reminded her that the sun was excessively
hot, and I should also have liked to add that she was excessively fat.
She replied that it did not matter; so polite a person as myself would
know how to accommodate his pace to that of his companion. Unable to
shake her off, I started for my walk in a somewhat unamiable mood, the
stout lady resolutely trudging on at my side, perspiring abundantly.
Our path led us down to a little cañada, or valley, where the ground was
moist and abounding with numerous pretty flowers and feathery grasses,
very refreshing to look at after leaving the parched yellow ground about
the estancia house.
“You seem to be very fond of flowers,” observed my companion. “Let me
help you gather them. To whom will you give your nosegay when it is
made?”
“Señora,” I replied, vexed at her trivial chatter, “I will give it
to the--” I had almost said to the devil, when a piercing scream she
uttered suddenly arrested the rude speech on my lips.
Her fright had been caused by a pretty little snake, about eighteen
inches long, which she had seen gliding away at her feet. And no wonder
it glided away from her with all the speed it was capable of, for how
gigantic and deformed a monster that fat woman must have seemed to it!
The terror of a timid little child at the sight of a hippopotamus,
robed in flowing bed-curtains and walking erect on its hind legs, would
perhaps be comparable to the panic possessing the shallow brain of the
poor speckled thing when that huge woman came striding over it.
First I laughed, and then, seeing that she was about to throw herself
for protection like a mountain of flesh upon me, I turned and ran after
the snake--for I had observed that it belonged to a harmless species,
one of the innocuous Coronella genus--and I was anxious to annoy
the woman. I captured it in a moment; then, with the poor frightened
creature struggling in my hand and winding itself about my wrist, I
walked back to her.
“Did you ever see such lovely colours?” I cried. “Look at the delicate
primrose yellow on its neck, deepening into vivid crimson on the belly.
Talk of flowers and butterflies! And its eyes are bright as two small
diamonds--look closely at them, señora, for they are well worth your
admiration.”
But she only turned and fled away screaming at my approach, and at last,
finding that I would not obey her and drop the terrible reptile, she
left me in a towering rage and went back to the house by herself.
After that I continued my walk in peace amongst the flowers; but my
little speckled captive had served me so well that I would not release
it. It occurred to me that if I kept it on my person it might serve as
a sort of talisman to protect me from the disagreeable attentions of the
señora. Finding that it was a very sly little snakey, and, like Marcos
Marcó in captivity, full of subtle deceit, I put it into my hat, which,
when firmly pressed on to my head, left no opening for the little arrowy
head to insinuate itself through. After spending two or three hours
botanising in the _cañada_, I returned to the house. I was in the
kitchen refreshing myself with a bitter _maté_, when my hostess came in
beaming with smiles, for she had, I suppose, forgiven me by this time.
I politely rose and removed my hat. Unfortunately I had forgotten
the snake, when out it dropped on the floor; then followed screams,
confusion and scuttling out of the kitchen by madame, children, and
servants. After that I was compelled to carry the snake out and give it
back its liberty, which no doubt tasted very sweet to it after its close
confinement. On my return to the house, one of the servants informed me
that the señora was too much offended to sit in the same room with me
again, so that I was obliged to have my breakfast alone; and for the
remainder of the time during which I was a prisoner I was avoided by
everyone (except Brass Buttons,--who appeared indifferent to everything
on earth), as if I had been a leper or a dangerous lunatic. They
thought, perhaps, that I still had other reptiles concealed about my
person.
Of course, one always expects to find a cruel, unreasoning prejudice
against snakes amongst ignorant people, but I never knew before to what
ridiculous lengths it will carry them. The prejudice makes me angry,
but on this occasion it had a use, for it enabled me to pass the day
unmolested.
In the evening the Juez returned, and I soon heard him loud in a
stormy altercation with his wife. Perhaps she wanted him to have me
decapitated. How it ended I cannot say; but when I saw him his manner
towards me was freezing, and he retired without giving me an opportunity
of speaking to him.
Next morning I got up resolved not to be put off any longer. Something
would have to be done, or I would know the reason why. On stepping out I
was very much surprised to see my horse standing saddled at the gate. I
went into the kitchen and asked Brass Buttons, the only person up, what
it meant.
“Who knows?” he returned, giving me a _maté_. “Perhaps the Juez desires
you to leave the house before he is up.”
“What did he say?” I demanded.
“Say? Nothing--what should he say?”
“But you saddled the horse, I suppose?”
“Of course. Who else would do it?”
“Were you told to do so by the Juez?”
“Told? Why should he tell me?”
“How, then, am I to know that he wishes me to leave his beautiful
house?” I asked, getting angry.
“The question!” he returned, shrugging his shoulders. “How do you know
when it is going to rain?”
Finding there was nothing more to be got out of the fellow, I finishing
taking _maté_, lit a cigar, and left the house. It was a lovely morning,
without a cloud, and the heavy dew sparkled on the grass like drops of
rain. What a pleasant thing it was to be able to ride forth again free
to go where I liked!
And so ends my snake-story, which is perhaps not very interesting; but
it is true, and therefore has one advantage over all other snake-stories
told by travellers.