On perceiving the approach of the domestico, Don Mariano silently closed
the curtains of the _litera_, in order that the slumbers of Gertrudis
might not be disturbed.
"Speak softly!" said he to the man, "my daughter is asleep."
The domestic delivered his report in an undertone.
"I have been almost as far as the hacienda of San Carlos," said he.
"The road to the house is clear; and I should have gone up to it, but
for the strange sights which I saw there."
"Strange sight! what sights, Castrillo?"
"Oh, master! I can hardly tell you what I saw--at least I cannot
explain it. The windows were all lit up, but with such lights! They
were blue and red, and of a purple colour, and they appeared to be
changing every instant, and moving about in the most mysterious manner.
While I stood looking at them, and trying to think what it could mean, I
saw a figure in white gliding past me in the darkness, like some one not
of this world."
"My worthy Castrillo, fear was troubling your senses, I am afraid you
only fancied these things?"
"Oh, my master! what I saw was but too real. If you had seen these
lights as I, you could not have doubted it. May it please God that I
may have been deceived!"
The tone of conviction in which the servant delivered his report
produced its effect on Don Mariano; and he could not help feeling the
unpleasant presentiment that some grand misfortune had happened to his
daughter, Marianita, or her husband.
The information brought by Castrillo was only the reawakening of a doubt
that had been already oppressing him.
A prey to afflicting thoughts, he remained for a while in that state of
silent uncertainty which follows the receipt of calamitous news. The
servant having finished his report had joined his three companions, and
Don Mariano was alone.
Just then the curtains of the _litera_ were drawn inside by a hand from
within, and the voice of Gertrudis interrupted for the moment his gloomy
reflections.
"My sleep has refreshed me," said the young girl; "do you intend soon to
continue your journey, father? It is near daybreak, is it not?"
"It is not yet midnight, nina. It will be long before the day breaks."
"Then why do you not go to sleep, dear father? We are in safety here, I
think; and there is no reason why you should keep awake."
"Dear Gertrudis, I do not desire to sleep until we are under the roof of
Marianita, and I can see you both together."
"Ah! Marianita is so very happy," sighed the invalid. "Her life has
been like one of the flowery paths we have been following through the
forest."
"And so will yours be yet, Gertrudis," rejoined Don Mariano, with an
effort to console her. "It will not be long before Don Rafael comes to
see you."
"Oh, yes! I know he will come, since he has sworn it upon his word of
honour. He will come, but what then?" murmured Gertrudis, with a
melancholy smile.
"He will arrive to tell you that he still loves you," said Don Mariano,
affecting a conviction which, in reality, he did not feel. "It is only
a misunderstanding," he added.
"A misunderstanding that causes death, dear father," rejoined Gertrudis,
as she turned her head upon the pillow to conceal her tears.
Don Mariano was unable to reply, and an interval of silence succeeded.
Then Gertrudis, by one of those sudden reactions common to invalids,
seemed all at once inspired with a fresh hope, and raising her head, she
inquired--
"Do you think the messenger has had time to reach Don Rafael?"
"He would be three days in getting from Oajaca to the hacienda Del
Valle; and if Don Rafael, as we have since heard, is at Huajapam, in two
days more the messenger should reach him. He has been gone four days;
therefore, in four more, at the most, Don Rafael should arrive at San
Carlos, where he will know we are awaiting him."
"Four days!" murmured Gertrudis. "Oh! it is a long, long time!"
Gertrudis did not dare to add, what she feared at the moment, that her
life might not last so long.