TWO ROGUISH PROFILES.
The city was quiet, the revolt was over, or, to speak more logically,
the revolution was complete. The soldiers, after laying down their arms,
had evacuated Valdivia, which was left completely in the power of the
Dark-Hearts. As soon as peace was re-established, the Dark-Hearts gave
orders that the barricades should be destroyed, and that all traces of
the sanguinary struggle should be removed as quickly as possible. By the
force of accomplished facts alone, Don Tadeo de Leon found himself quite
naturally invested with power, and in command of the province, with the
faculties of a dictator.
"Well," he asked Valentine, "what do you think of what you have seen?"
"Faith," the Parisian replied, with characteristic bluntness, "I think
people must come to America to see how men can be caught with hook and
line like simple gudgeons."
Don Tadeo could not refrain from smiling at this whimsical answer.
"Do not leave me," he said; "all is not over yet."
"I ask no better; but, our friends yonder, don't you think they will be
very uneasy at our long absence?"
"Can you for a moment imagine that I have forgotten them? Within an hour
you will be at liberty. Come with me; I want to show you two faces to
which our victory has given an expression very different from that which
they generally wear."
"That will be curious," said Valentine.
"Yes," Don Tadeo replied, "or hideous, whichever you please."
"Hum! man is not perfect," said Valentine, philosophically.
"Fortunately not; if he were, he would be execrable," Don Tadeo remarked.
They entered the cabildo, the doors of which were guarded by a
detachment of Dark-Hearts. The vast saloons of the palace were invaded
by an eager crowd, who came to salute the rising sun; that is to say,
they came to offer the spectacle of their baseness to the fortunate man,
whom, no doubt, they would have stoned if success had not crowned his
audacious attempt. Don Tadeo passed, without seeing them, through the
ranks of these sycophants, the sworn courtiers of every authority, as
void of honour as of shame, possessing but one single talent--that of
making bendings to which it would seem impossible that the vertebral
column of a man could attain, however flexible it may be. Valentine, who
followed the footsteps of his friend, feigned to take for himself the
greater part of the genuflexions meant for Don Tadeo, and bowed to the
right and left with imperturbable coolness and assurance.
The two gentlemen, after many delays caused by the increasing crowd,
which closed around them, reached at last a retired apartment, in which
there were only two persons. These two persons were General Tiburcio
and Senator Don Ramón Sandias. The physiognomy of these persons offered
a striking contrast. The General, with a sad face and a pensive step,
walked about the apartment, whilst the senator, luxuriantly reclining
on a fauteuil, with a smile upon his lips, his visage expanded, and
one leg thrown over the other, was fanning himself carelessly with an
embroidered handkerchief of the finest cambric. At the sight of Don
Tadeo, the General advanced rapidly towards him; as for the senator, he
sat upright in his chair, assumed a serious look, and waited.
"Sir," the General said, in a low voice, "two words."
"Speak, General," replied Don Tadeo; "I am entirely at your disposal."
"I have some questions which I wish to put to you."
"You may be assured, General, that if it be in my power to answer you, I
will not hesitate to satisfy you."
"I am convinced of that, and it is that which emboldens me to speak."
"I am all attention."
The General hesitated for a moment, but seemed at length determined.
"Good heavens, sir!" said he, "I am an old soldier, unacquainted with
diplomacy; I had a friend, almost a brother, and I am a prey to mortal
uneasiness on his account."
"And that friend?"
"Is General Bustamente. You must know," he added, warmly, "that we have
been fellow soldiers thirty years; and I should wish--" here he stopped,
as if in doubt, looking earnestly at the person he was addressing.
"You would like?" said Don Tadeo, quietly.
"To know the fate that is reserved for him."
Don Tadeo gave the General a melancholy glance.
"To what purpose?" he murmured.
"I beg of you."
"You insist on knowing?"
"I do."
"General Bustamente is a great criminal. While a leader in power, he
wished to change the form of government against the will of the people
from whom he held his position, and in contempt of the laws, which he
shamelessly trampled underfoot."
"That is but too true," said the General, whose brow turned crimson.
"General Bustamente has been implacable during the course of his too
long career; you know that he who sows the wind can only hope to reap
the tempest."
"Hence!"
"The same implacability will be shown to him that he has shown to
others."
"That is to say?"
"He will, in all probability, be condemned to death."
"Alas! I expected as much; but will this condemnation of which you
speak, be long delayed?"
"Two days at most; the commission which must try him will be formed
today."
"Poor friend!" said the General, piteously; "and that's the end! Will
you grant me a favour, sir?"
"Name it."
"As the General must die, it would be a consolation to him to have a
friend by his side."
"No doubt it would."
"Allow me to be his guard. I am sure he will be happy to know that it is
I who have the duty of watching over him and leading him to death. And
then I shall not, at least, abandon him till the last minute."
"So be it,--your request is granted. Have you anything else to say? I
shall be happy to serve you."
"No, I thank you, sir; that is all I desired,--Ah! one word more!"
"Speak."
"Can I be allowed to take this guard soon?"
"Immediately, if you like."
"I thank you, sir."
And after profoundly bowing to Don Tadeo, the General quitted the room
with a hasty step.
"Poor man!" said Valentine.
"Eh?" cried Don Tadeo.
"I said, poor man!"
"Oh, yes; I heard you plainly enough, but of whom were you speaking?"
"Of the unfortunate man who has just left us."
Don Tadeo shrugged his shoulders, and Valentine looked at him with
surprise.
"Do you think you know whence the solicitude of this poor man, as you
call him, for his friend arises?"
"Why, from his friendship for him; that is clear."
"You think so, do you?"
"I can think nothing else."
"Well, then, allow me to tell you you are completely mistaken; the poor
General is only desirous to be near his companion in arms, that he may
have the opportunity of suppressing the proofs of his complicity in the
rash enterprise of yesterday; proofs which Don Pancho most likely has
about him, and which the other wishes to destroy at all hazards."
"Can that be possible?"
"By Saint Jago, yes! He desires to be constantly with him, that he may
not communicate with anyone--why, he would kill him, if necessary."
"Oh! this is infamous!"
"But so it is."
"Bah! it gives me a nausea."
"Well, do not be sick yet."
"Why not?"
"Because," Don Tadeo continued, pointing to the senator, "I think we
have something here that will bring the agreeable feeling to its height."
As soon as Don Ramón saw the General leave the apartment, he quitted his
easy chair, and advanced towards Don Tadeo, bowing obsequiously.
"To whom have I the honour of speaking?" said the King of Darkness, with
studied politeness.
"Sir," the other replied, with a jaunty, gentlemanly air, "my name is
Don Ramón Sandias, and I am a senator."
"How can I be of service to you, sir?" said Don Tadeo, bowing.
"Oh," Don Ramón replied, affectedly; "as regards myself, personally, I
ask nothing."
"Indeed!"
"Caspita! no; I am rich, what more can I want? But I am a Chilian, a
patriot, sir; and, what is more, a senator. Placed in an exceptional
position, I am bound to give my fellow citizens unequivocal proofs of my
devotion to the holy cause of liberty. Are you not of my opinion, sir?"
"Entirely."
"I have heard, sir, that the wretched cabecilla, the cause of this silly
movement, which brought the republic within two inches of ruin, is in
your hands."
"Yes, sir," replied Don Tadeo, with imperturbable coolness, "we have
been fortunate enough to obtain possession of his person."
"You are, doubtless, going to bring this man to trial?" Don Ramón asked,
in a somewhat familiar tone.
"Within forty-eight hours, sir."
"That is right, sir. It is thus that justice should be dealt to these
shameless agitators, who, in contempt of the sacred laws of humanity,
seek to plunge our beautiful country into the gulf of revolutions."
"Sir!"
"Pardon me for speaking thus," said Don Ramón, with well-feigned
enthusiasm; "I feel that my freedom goes rather far, but my indignation
carries me away, sir; it is quite time that these makers of widows and
orphans should receive the exemplary chastisement they merit. I cannot
think, without trembling, of the manifold evils that would have fallen
upon us, if this miserable adventurer had succeeded."
"Sir, this man is not yet condemned."
"And that is exactly what brings me to you, sir. As a senator, and
a devoted patriot, I claim of you the right which belongs to me, of
presiding over the commission whose duty it is to sit in judgment upon
him."
"Your request is granted, sir," Don Tadeo replied, who was unable to
repress a smile of contempt.
"Thank you, sir!" said the senator, with an expression of joy; "however
painful the duty may be, I shall know how to perform it."
After bowing deeply to Don Tadeo, the senator left the room in high
spirits.
"You see," said Don Tadeo, turning to Valentine, "Don Pancho had two
friends upon whom he thought he could depend: one took upon him to
proclaim him, the other to defend him. Well, in one he finds a gaoler,
in the other an executioner."
"It is monstrous!" said Valentine, with disgust.
"No," replied Don Tadeo; "it is logical, that's all;--he has failed."
"I have had enough of your politic men, with two faces, and neither of
them a true one," replied Valentine; "allow me to return to our friends."
"Begone, then, since you wish it."
"Thanks!"
"You will come back to Valdivia immediately, will you not?"
"Pardieu, will I!"
"Will you have an escort?"
"For what purpose?"
"Ah! that is true; I am always forgetting that you never apprehend
danger."
"I am only anxious about our friends; that is why I leave you."
"Have you any cause for apprehension?"
"None; but yet, a vague uneasiness, which I can not account for, compels
me to remain no longer away from them."
"Begone, then, as quickly as you please, my friend; but pray be watchful
over the poor child, Rosario."
"Be at ease on that score; within three hours she shall be here."
"That is understood: a pleasant ride to you, and remember that I shall
look for you with impatience."
"Time to go and return, that is all."
"Till then, adieu!"
Valentine left the room, went straight to the stables, saddled his horse
himself, and set off at a gallop. He had told Don Tadeo the truth: a
vague uneasiness disturbed him, he had a presentiment of some misfortune
or another.