TWO HATREDS.
Antinahuel found himself face to face with Doña Maria; by an instinctive
movement each drew back a step, stifling a cry; a cry of stupor on the
part of Antinahuel, of surprise on the part of the Linda.
"Oh!" sighed Doña Rosario, quite overcome, and bowing her head to avoid
the ardent glance of the Indian chief--"Oh, Heaven! now I am really
lost, indeed!"
Doña Maria had in a few seconds driven back to her heart the feelings
which raged within her; and with a mild voice and a smiling face she
addressed Antinahuel--
"My brother is welcome," she said, inviting him by a gesture to enter
the cuarto; "to what happy chance do I owe his presence?"
"A happy chance for me, particularly," he replied, with a satirical
smile, and endeavouring to compose his features.
The toqui was too well acquainted with the companion of his childhood
not to know that he had in her a formidable adversary, with whom he must
play close, in order to bring her to do his will.
"Well!" the Linda resumed, "will my brother deign to do me the pleasure
of explaining the cause of his sudden appearance, which, not the less,
fills me with delight?"
"Oh! the cause is very simple indeed, not worth mentioning; I did not
hope, in any way, to meet my sister here; I must even confess, with all
humility that I did not seek her."
"Ah!" said Doña Maria, feigning to be imposed upon, "I am doubly
fortunate, then."
The chief bowed.
"It is the truth," he said.
"Good!" she thought; "now he is going to lie, let us see what villainy
the demon will invent;" and then she added aloud, with a seducing smile,
which displayed thirty-two little teeth of the purest pearl--"I am all
ears, my brother can speak."
"As my sister knows, this village is on the route which leads to my
toldería, I have naturally traversed it in returning to my tribe; the
night is advanced, my mosotones require a few hours' rest; I resolved
to encamp here. I entered the first rancho which presented itself to
my view, this rancho in which you are temporarily sojourning, and I am
grateful to the chance which, as I have told you, has done all this, and
is alone guilty."
"Not bad for an Indian," murmured Doña Maria; "well, we will say no more
about that."
"Eh!" said Antinahuel, feigning for the first time to perceive Doña
Rosario, and advancing towards her; "who is this charming young woman?"
"A slave, not worthy of your notice," the Linda replied, sternly.
"A slave!" Antinahuel cried.
"Yes, a slave." The Linda clapped her hands, and the Indian we have seen
talking with her entered.
"Take away this woman!" she said.
"Oh, madam!" Rosario exclaimed, falling on her knees, "can you be
inexorable towards a poor girl who has never injured you?"
The Linda gave her a fiery glance, and repulsed her with her foot.
"I ordered this girl to be taken away," she said, perilously.
At this flagrant insult, the blood rushed to the heart of the poor
girl; her pallid brow flushed with scarlet, and drawing herself up
majestically and proudly, she said in a piercing voice, the prophetic
tone of which struck the Linda to the heart--
"Beware, madam! God will punish you! As you today are without pity for
me, so the day will come when there will be no pity for you!"
And she left the room, after darting a look at her implacable enemy that
made even her blench.
When Antinahuel and the Linda were left alone, a long silence ensued.
The last words of Rosario had wounded the Linda like the stroke of a
poniard; it was in vain she endeavoured to steel herself against the
emotion she experienced. She felt herself conquered by the weak girl.
She, however, gradually overcame the incomprehensible sensation that
oppressed her. Passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away the
importunate idea that pursued her, she turned towards Antinahuel--
"No diplomacy between us, brother," she said, "we know each other too
well to lose time in manoeuvring."
"My sister is right; let us speak frankly."
"The story of your return to your tribe is very clever, Antinahuel, but
I do not believe a word of it."
"Good! then my sister knows the reason that brings me here."
"I do know it," she said, with an arch smile, which played like a
sunbeam round her rosy lips.
Antinahuel made no reply. He began to walk in great agitation about the
room, casting looks of anger and vexation towards the door by which
Rosario had gone out. The Linda followed him with a keen and mocking eye.
"Well," she said, at the end of a minute, "will not my brother speak?"
"Why should I not speak?" he angrily replied. "Antinahuel is the most
redoubtable chief of his nation, the proudest warriors bend their lofty
brows without hesitation before him!"
"I am waiting," she said, in a calm voice.
"A chief explains himself clearly, no one imposes upon him. My sister
knows my hatred for the chief of the palefaces, of whom she has so much
reason to complain."
"Yes, I know that man is the personal enemy of my brother."
"Well, then, my sister has in her hands the blue-eyed maiden, and she
will give her to me, so that I may, in making her suffer, revenge myself
on my enemy."
"My brother is a man, he does not know how to avenge himself: why
should I give my prisoner up to him? Women alone possess the secret of
torturing those they hate. Let my brother leave it to me," she added,
with a vindictive smile; "the torments I shall invent will suffice, I
swear, to satisfy a hatred much deeper than any he can feel."
Antinahuel, although his face remained impassive, shuddered inwardly at
these odious words.
"My sister is boastful," he replied, "her skin is white, her heart knows
not how to hate, let her leave it to the Indian chief."
"No," she passionately exclaimed, "I have fixed the fate of this woman;
I will not give her to my brother."
"Will my sister then forget her promise, and falsify her oaths?"
"Of what promises and of what oaths do you speak, chief?"
"Of those," the Indian replied haughtily, "which my sister pronounced in
the toldo of Antinahuel, when she came among his tribe to implore his
assistance."
The Linda smiled.
"Woman is a mockingbird," she said, "the man who pays attention to her
words is----"
"Good!" Antinahuel interrupted, "my sister shall keep her prisoner. Let
my sister do her will; I will continue my route towards the toldería of
my tribe."
The Linda looked at him with astonishment; the facility with which
Antinahuel apparently renounced his projects seemed to her the more
incomprehensible, from her knowing with what pertinacity he pursued
his enterprises, when once he believed he had a chance of success. She
resolved to know what she had to trust to. At the moment when the chief
made a step towards the door, she said.
"Is my brother going?"
"I am going," he replied.
"Has he, then, already terminated the affairs about which General
Bustamente requested him to come and consult with him?"
"General Bustamente no longer stands in need of Antinahuel or of anyone
else."
"Has he then succeeded so quickly?"
"Yes," he answered in an equivocal tone.
"Then," the Linda exclaimed, joyfully, "he is master of the city, and
triumphs at last!"
Antinahuel appeared to hesitate for a minute--an ironical smile flitted
across his lips.
"Will not my brother answer?" the Linda continued, with an impatience
mingled with uneasiness.
"He whom my sister calls General Bustamente," he replied in a sharp
tone, "no longer needs the assistance of anyone: he is a prisoner."
The Linda sprang up like a wounded lioness.
"A prisoner!" she cried. "Oh! my brother must be mistaken."
"He is a prisoner, and within three days will be dead."
The Linda was struck with stupor; this frightful news crushed all her
hopes.
"Oh!" she murmured at length, "he shall not die!"
"He will die!" Antinahuel replied; "who can save him?"
"You, chief!" she said, emphatically grasping his arm.
"Why should I do it?" he remarked carelessly; "of what consequence is
the life of the man to me?--the palefaces are not my brothers."
"No; but his life is precious to me, for the sake of my vengeance! He
alone can deliver up my enemy to me! He shall live, I tell you!"
"Good! My sister will deliver him, then, as she is so anxious to save
him."
"You alone could do it, chief, if you would," she observed.
Antinahuel fixed his eyes upon her.
"What makes you suppose I would?" he said.
"Listen to me, chief!" the Linda cried. "You love that woman--that puny,
palefaced thing, do you not?"
The Indian started, but made no reply.
"Oh! do not endeavour to deceive me; you cannot blind the eyes of a
woman. The hatred you bear to Don Tadeo is changed into love in your
heart at the sight of this creature."
"Well! and suppose it should be so?" he said, evidently moved.
"An even-handed bargain with you then; give me General Bustamente," she
remarked earnestly, "and I will deliver her up to you."
"Oh!" said Antinahuel, with a bantering smile, "a woman is but a
mockingbird; the man who puts faith in her words----"
On hearing the chief throw in her face the words she herself had uttered
only a few minutes before, she stamped with impatience.
"Well, then," she cried, almost bursting with rage, "take her
then!--take the woman! and may my curses cling to her!"
Antinahuel uttered a tiger-like roar, and rushed out of the room.
"Ah!" cried the Linda in a hoarse voice, and with an expression
impossible to be described, "may not the love of this wretch avenge me
better than all the tortures I could have invented!"
In a few minutes the chief returned precipitately, his features
distorted by fury and disappointment.
"She has fled!" he shouted. It was true. Rosario and the Indian to whose
charge the Linda had given her had both disappeared. No one knew what
had become of them. Antinahuel immediately dispatched his mosotones in
all directions in search of them. The Linda was left in the toldo a
prey to indescribable rage; she was cheated of her vengeance! She felt
crushed under the weight of the helplessness to which she was reduced.