THIS is the life story of Don Sebastian Ruy José Maria,
Marques del Torre y Luna; and of Maria Josepha Dolores del Torre,
Condesa de Luna, his wife; and of the old stone castle that alone the
earthquake left standing in the pleasant city of Carácas.
The Holy Catholic Church had alone their secret; and she kept it; and
now she has, laid up on earth, their treasure too. No longer such grim
motives vex their country; if she battles with herself, it is for money
or for acres of wide coffee land. Such cruel tales cannot be found
there now. But, perhaps, withal, some touch of noble life is vanished,
with that flag of blood and gold. Good cannot grow bravely without evil
in this world.
You may see the Casa Rey still standing in the sombre street, and the
empty tower window there. The Marquesa del Torre y Luna died, quite
old, more than a score of years ago. Her blue eyes are no longer there.
Perhaps they are in heaven, and now at last, “know not their love from
God.” The people of Carácas think so. Her eyes
“Even than on this earth tenderer--
While hopes and aims long lost with her,
Stand round her image side by side,
Like tombs of pilgrims that have died
About the Holy Sepulchre.”