THE STORM BURSTS.
GREATLY HONOURED SIR:--I permit myself the privilege of addressing your
Excellency, my name being known to you as man of business of late your
admired brother, Senor Don Ricardo Montfort. I find myself, senor, in a
position of great hardness between the two admirable ladies, Senora
Montfort, widow of Don Ricardo, and his beautiful daughter, the Senorita
Margarita. These ladies, admirable, as I have said, in beauty,
character, and abilities, find it, nevertheless, impossible to live in
harmony. As man of affairs, I am present at painful scenes, which wring
the heart. Each cries to me to save her from the other. The senora
desires to make retreat at the convent of the White Sisters, thrice
holy and beatified persons, but of a strictness repugnant to the lively
and ardent spirit of the senorita. Last evening took place a terrible
enactment, at which I most unluckily assisted. Senora Montfort permitted
her lofty spirit to assert itself more strongly than her delicate
corporosity was able to endure, and fell into violent hystericality. Her
shrieks wanted little of arousing the neighbourhood; the servants became
appalled and lost their reason. Senorita Margarita maintained her
calmness, and even refused to consider the senora's condition as
serious. On the assurance of the young lady and the senora's maid, I was
obliged to accept the belief that the senora would shortly recover if
left to herself, and came away in deep grief, leaving that illustrious
matron--I speak with respect--in fits upon the floor. One would have
said, a child of six deprived of its toy. Greatly honoured Senor
Montfort, I am a man no longer young. Having myself no conjugal
ameliorations, I make no pretence to comprehend the more delicate and
complex nature of females. I am cut to the heart; the senora scrupled
not to address me as "Old Fool." Heaven is my witness that I have
endeavoured of my best lights to smoothen the path for her well-born and
at present bereaved feet. But what can I do? Neither lady will listen to
me. The senorita, let me hasten to say, shows me always a tender, I
might without too great a presumption say a filial, kindness. I held her
in my arms from the day of her birth, senor; she is the flower of the
world to me. When she takes me by the hands and says, "Dear old Donito
Miguelito, let me do as I desire and all will be well!" I have no
strength to resist her. Had I a house of my own, I would take this
charming child home with me, to be my daughter while she would; but--a
bachelor living in two rooms--what would you, senor? it is not
possible. Deign, I beseech you, to consider this my respectful report,
and if circumstances are proprietary come to my assistance, or send me
instructions how to act.
Accept, senor, the assurance of my perfect consideration, and believe me
Your obedient, humble servant,
MIGUEL PIETOSO.
TO THE HONOURABLE SENOR DON JOHN MONTFORT.
_Honoured and dear Brother:_--Since I wrote you last week, things the
most frightful have happened. Rita's conduct grew more and more violent
and unruled; in despair, I sent for Don Miguel. This old man, though of
irreproached character, is of a weakness pitiable to see in one wearing
the form of mankind. I called upon him to uphold me, and command Rita to
obey the wife of her father. He had only smooth words for each of us,
and endeavoured to charm this wretched child, when terror should have
been his weapon. I leave you to imagine if she was influenced by his
gentle admonitions. To my face she caressed him, and he responded to her
caresses. Don Miguel is an old man, eighty years of age, but
nevertheless my anger, my just anger, rose to a height beyond my power
of control. I fainted from excess of emotion; I lay as one dead, and no
heart stirred of my sufferings. Since then I have been in my bed, with
no power more than has a babe of the cradle. This morning Margarita came
to me and expressed regret for her conduct, saying that she was willing
from now to submit herself to my righteous authority. I forgave her,--I
am a Christian, dear brother, and cannot forget the principles of my
holy religion,--and we embraced with tears. This evening we go to the
convent, where I hope to find ease for my soul-wounds and to subdue the
frightful disposition of my stepdaughter. I feel it my duty to relate
these occurrences to you, dear and honoured brother, for I feel that I
may succumb under the weight of my afflictions. We start this evening,
and Don Miguel will inform you of our departure and safe arrival at the
holy convent, whither he accompanies us.
Permit me to express, dear brother, the sentiments of exalted
consideration with which I must ever regard you as next in blood to my
adored consort, and believe me
Your devoted,
MARIA CONCEPCION DE NARAGUA MONTFORT.
GREATLY HONOURED AND ILLUSTRIOUS SIR:--Let me entreat you to prepare
yourself for news of alarming nature. Yesterday evening I was honoured
by the commands of the Senora Montfort, that I convey her and Senorita
Margarita to the holy convent of the White Sisters. My age, senor, is
such that a scene of emotion is infinitely distressing to me, but I
could not disobey the commands of this illustrious lady, the widow of my
kindest patron and friend. I went, prepared for tears, for outcries,
perhaps for violent resistance, for the ardent and high-strung nature of
my beloved Senorita Margarita is well known to me. Figure to yourself,
honoured senor, my surprise at finding this charming damsel calm,
composed, even smiling. She greeted me with her accustomed tenderness; a
more enchanting personality does not, I am assured, adorn the earth than
that of this lovely child. She bade me have no alarms for her, that all
was well, she was reconciled to her lot; indeed, she added that she
could not now wish things otherwise. Amazed, but also enchanted with her
docility and sweetness, I gave her an old man's blessing, and my prayers
that the rigour of the holy Sisters might be softened toward her tender
and high-spirited youth. She replied that she had no fear of the
Sisters; that in truth she thought they would give her no trouble of
any kind. I was ravished with this assurance, having, I may confess it
to you, senor, dreaded the contact between the senorita and the holy
Mother, a woman of incredible force and piety. But I must hasten my
narrative. At seven o'clock last evening two volantes were in readiness
at the door of the Montfort mansion. The first was driven by the
senora's own man, the second by Pasquale, a negro devoted since
childhood to the senorita. The senora would have placed her daughter in
the first of these vehicles; but no! the senorita sprang lightly into
the second volante, followed by her maid, a young person, also tenderly
attached to her. Interposing myself to produce calm, I persuade the
admirable senora to take the position that etiquette commanded, in the
first carriage. It is done; I seat myself by her side; procession is
made. The way to the convent of the White Sisters, senor, is a steep
and rugged one; on either hand are savage passes, are mountains of
precipitation. To conceive what happened, how is it possible? When we
reached the convent gate, the second volante was empty. Assassinated
with terror, I make demand of Pasquale; he admits that he may have slept
during the long traject up the hill. He swears that he heard no sound,
that no word was addressed to him. He calls the saints to witness that
he is innocent; the saints make no reply, but that is not uncommon. I
search; I rend the air with my cries; alone silence responds to me. The
senora is carried fainting into the convent, and I return to Havana, a
man distracted. I should say that in the carriage was found the long
mantle in which the senorita had been gracefully attired; to its fold a
note pinned, addressed me in affectionate terms, begging her dear Donito
Miguelito not to have fear, that she was going to Don Carlos, her
brother, and all would be well. Since then is two days, senor, that I
have not closed the eye. I attend a fit of illness, from grief and
anxiousness. In duty I intelligence you of this dolorous event, praying
you not to think me guilty of sin without pardon. I have deputed a
messenger of trust to scrub thoroughly the country in search of Don
Carlos, death to await him if he return without news of my beloved
senorita. He is gone now twelve hours. If it arrive me at any moment the
tidings, I make instantly to convey them to your Excellency, whether of
joy or affliction.
Receive, highly honoured senor, the assurance of my consideration the
most elevated.
MIGUEL PIETOSO.