On the same day in which the student of theology arrived at the Hacienda
las Palmas, and about four o'clock in the afternoon--just after the hour
of dinner--the different members of the family, along with their guests,
were assembled in one of the apartments of the mansion. It was the
grand _sala_ or reception room, opening by double glass doors upon a
garden filled with flowering plants, and beautiful shade trees.
Two individuals, already known to the reader, were absent from this
reunion. One was the student himself, who, notwithstanding that he was
now in perfect security, had so delivered himself up to the remembrance
of the dangers he had encountered while reclining under his terrible
dais of tigers and serpents, that he had been seized with a violent
fever, and was now confined to his bed.
The other absentee was Marianita, who, on pretext of taking a look at
the great ocean of waters--but in reality to ascertain whether the bark
of Don Fernando was not yet in sight--had gone up to the _azotea_.
Don Mariano, with that tranquillity of mind, which the possession of
wealth usually produces--assuring the rich proprietor against the
future--was seated in a large leathern _fauteuil_, smoking his cigar,
and occasionally balancing himself on the hind legs of the chair.
Beside him stood a small table of ornamental wood, on which was placed a
cup of Chinese porcelain containing coffee. It was of the kind known
among Spanish-Americans as _cafe de siesta_; on the principle, no doubt,
_lucus a non lucendo_: since it is usually so strong that a single cup
of it is sufficient to rob one of the power of sleep for a period of at
least twenty-four hours.
In the doorway opening into the garden stood Don Rafael, who appeared to
be watching the evolutions of the parroquets, amidst the branches of the
pomegranates, with all the interest of a naturalist.
Though his countenance was calm, his heart was trembling at the thought
of the _entretien_ he had proposed on bringing about.
Gertrudis, with head inclined, was seated near by, occupied with the
embroidery of one of those scarfs of white cambric, which the Mexican
gentlemen are accustomed to wear over their shoulders, after the fashion
of the Arab burnouse, to protect them from the too fierce rays of the
sun.
Despite the tranquil silence of the haciendado, at intervals a cloud
might have been observed upon his brow; while the pale countenance of
Don Rafael also exhibited a certain anxiety, belying the expression of
indifference which he affected.
The spirit of Gertrudis in reality was not more calm. A secret voice
whispered to her that Don Rafael was about to say something; and that
same voice told her it was some sweet prelude of love. Nevertheless,
despite the quick rush of her Creole blood, and the sudden quivering
that rose from her heart to her cheeks, she succeeded in concealing her
thoughts under that mask of womanly serenity which the eye of man is not
sufficiently skilful to penetrate.
The only individual present whose countenance was in conformity with his
thoughts, was the _arriero_--Don Valerio Trujano.
With hat in hand, and standing in front of the haciendado, he had come
to say _adios_, and thank Don Mariano for the hospitality his house had
afforded him.
To that easy gracefulness of manners common to all classes in
Spanish-America, there was united in the person of the _arriero_ a
certain imposing severity of countenance, which, however, he could
temper at will by the aid of a pair of eyes of mild and benevolent
expression.
Notwithstanding that his social position was not equal to that of his
host--for Mexico had not yet become republican--Valerio Trujano was not
regarded as an ordinary guest either by Don Mariano or his daughters.
Independent of his reputation for honesty beyond suspicion--for profound
piety as well--which he enjoyed throughout the whole country, he
possessed other high qualities that had entitled him to universal
esteem. The generosity and courage which he had exhibited on the
preceding evening--when assisting a stranger at the risk of his own
life--had only added to the great respect already entertained for him by
the inmates of the Hacienda las Palmas.
Although the dragoon officer had in some measure requited the service,
by afterwards snatching the _arriero_ from the jaws of the devouring
flood, he did not on that account feel a whit less grateful. Neither
did Gertrudis, who with her thoughts of love had already mingled her
prayers for him, who had a just title to be called the saviour of Don
Rafael's life.
The man, Valerio Trujano, whose nature at a later period became
immortalised by the siege of Huajapam, was at this time about forty
years of age; but his fine delicate features, overshadowed by an
abundance of glossy black hair, gave him the appearance of being much
younger.
"Senor Don Mariano," said he, on coming into the presence of the
haciendado, "I have come to bid _adios_, and thank you for your
hospitality."
"What!" exclaimed Don Mariano, "surely you are not going to leave us so
soon? No, no."
Gertrudis at the same time expressed her unwillingness that he should
depart.
"I must leave you, Don Mariano," answered the _arriero_. "The man who
has business to attend to is not always his own master. When his heart
impels him to turn to the right, his affairs often carry him to the
left. He who is _in debt_, is still less master of himself."
"You owe a sum of money, then?" said Don Rafael, interrogatively, at the
same time advancing towards the _arriero_ and offering him his hand.
"Why could you not have told me of this? Whatever be the amount, I--"
"Ah! _cavallero_," interrupted Trujano, with a smile, "it is a bad plan
to borrow from one for the purpose of paying another. I could not think
of accepting a loan. It is not from pride, but a sense of duty that I
decline your generous offer; and I hope you will not be offended. The
sum I owe is not a very heavy one--a few hundred dollars. Since it has
pleased God that my mules should find a shelter in the stables of Don
Mariano, and thus escape the inundation, I can now take the road through
the mountains to Oajaca, where the money I shall receive for my _recua_
will, I hope, entirely clear me from debt."
"What!" cried Don Mariano, in a tone of surprise, "do you talk of
selling your mules--the only means you have of gaining your livelihood?"
"Yes," modestly replied the muleteer, "I intend selling them. I do so
in order that I may be able to go where my vocation calls me. I should
have gone already; but being in debt up to this time, my life belonged
to my creditors rather than to myself, and I had not the right to expose
it to danger."
"To expose your life?" interrogated Gertrudis, with an accent that
bespoke her interest in the brave man.
"Just so, Senorita," responded the _arriero_. "I have seen the heads of
Lopez and Armenta exposed upon the high road of San Luis del Rey. Who
knows but that my own may soon figure beside them? I speak openly,"
continued Trujano, looking round upon his audience, "and as if before
God. I know that my host, no more than God himself, would betray a
secret thus confided to him."
"Of course not," rejoined Don Mariano, with an air of hospitable
simplicity such as characterised the earlier ages. "But here," he
continued, "we are one and all of us devoted to the cause of our
country's liberty; and we shall pray for those who aid her in obtaining
it."
"We shall do more than that," said Tres-Villas in his turn; "we shall
lend our help to her. It is the duty of every Mexican who can wield a
sword and ride a horse."
"May all those who raise an arm in favour of Spain!" cried Gertrudis,
her eyes flashing with patriotic enthusiasm, "may they be branded with
infamy and disgrace! may they find neither a roof to shelter them, nor a
woman to smile upon them! may the contempt of those they love be the
reward of every traitor to his country!"
"If all our young girls were like you," said Trujano, looking gratefully
towards Gertrudis, "our triumph would soon be attained. Where is the
man who would not be proud to risk his life for one smile of your pretty
lips, Senorita, or one look from your beautiful eyes?"
As the _arriero_ said this, he glanced significantly towards the young
officer. Gertrudis hung her head, happy at hearing this homage rendered
to her beauty in presence of the man in whose eyes she alone cared to
appear beautiful.
After a pause Trujano continued: "_Dios y Libertad_! (God and Liberty!)
that is my motto. Had I been in a condition sooner to take up the cause
of my country, I should have done so--if only to restrain the excesses
that have already sullied it. No doubt you have heard of them, Senor
Don Mariano?"
"I have," replied the haciendado; and the shadow that at that moment
passed over his brow told that the news had troubled him.
"The blood of innocent Spaniards has been shed," continued the muleteer,
"men who had no ill-will towards our cause; and, shame to say, the only
one in this our province who now carries the banner of the insurrection
is the worthless wretch, Antonio Valdez."
"Antonio Valdez!" cried Don Rafael, interrupting him. "Do you mean
Valdez, a _vaquero_ of Don Luis Tres-Villas--my father?"
"The same," replied Don Mariano. "May it please God to make him
remember that his master always treated him with kindness!"
The air of uneasiness with which Don Mariano pronounced these words did
not escape Don Rafael.
"Do you think, then," said he, in a tone that testified his alarm, "do
you think that my father, whose liberal opinions are known to every one,
is in any danger from the insurgents?"
"No, I hope not," replied Don Mariano. "Senor Valerio," said Don
Rafael, turning to interrogate the _arriero_; "do you know how many men
this fellow, Antonio Valdez, may have under his command?"
"Fifty, I have heard; but I think it likely his band may have been
greatly increased by accessions among the country-people--who have
suffered even more than those of the town from the oppressions of the
Spaniards."
"Senor Don Mariano," said the officer, in a voice trembling with
emotion, "nothing less than news similar to what I have just now heard
could have tempted me to abridge a sojourn under your roof, which I
should have been only too happy to have prolonged; but when one's father
is in danger--even to the risk of life--his son's place should be by his
side. Is it not so, Dona Gertrudis?"
On hearing the first words of Don Rafael's speech, which announced the
intention of a precipitate departure, a cry of anguish had almost
escaped from the lips of the young girl. With the heroism of a woman's
heart she had repressed it; and stood silent with her eyes fixed upon
the floor.
"Yes, yes!" murmured she, replying to Don Rafael's question in a low but
firm voice.
There was an interval of silence, during which a sort of sinister
presentiment agitated the spirits of the four personages present. The
homicidal breath of civil war was already commencing to make itself felt
within the domestic circle.
Trujano was the first to recommence the conversation--his eyes gleaming
as he spoke like one of the ancient prophets moved by Divine
inspiration.
"This morning," said he, "an humble servant of the Most High, the
obscure priest of a poor village, has left you to offer up his prayers
for the insurgent cause. And now an instrument, not less humble, by the
will of God takes leave of you to offer it his arm, and if need be, his
life. Pray for them! good and beautiful Madonna!" he continued,
addressing himself to Gertrudis, and speaking with that religious and
poetical fervour which was the leading trait in his character; "pray for
them; and perhaps it will please the Almighty to show that from the very
dust He can raise the power that may hurl the tyrant from his throne."
On saying these words, the _arriero_ respectfully pressed the hands that
were held out to him, and then walked out of the _sala_, followed by Don
Mariano.