[Illustration: RICHARD]

THE PURPLE LAND

Being the Narrative of One Richard Lamb's Adventures in The BandaOriental, in South America, as Told By Himself

BY

W. H. Hudson

ILLUSTRATED BY

Keith Henderson

Second Edition, 1904

NEW YORK

PREFACE

This work was first issued in 1885, by Messrs. Sampson Low, in twoslim volumes, with the longer, and to most persons, enigmatical titleof _The Purple Land That England Lost_. A purple land may be foundin almost any region of the globe, and 'tis of our gains, not ourlosses, we keep count. A few notices of the book appeared in the papers, one or two of the more serious literary journals reviewing it (notfavourably) under the heading of "Travels and Geography"; but thereading public cared not to buy, and it very shortly fell into oblivion. There it might have remained for a further period of nineteen years, or for ever, since the sleep of a book is apt to be of the unawakeningkind, had not certain men of letters, who found it on a forgotten heapand liked it in spite of its faults, or because of them, concernedthemselves to revive it. 

We are often told that an author never wholly loses his affection fora first book, and the feeling has been likened (more than once) tothat of a parent towards a first-born. I have not said it, but inconsenting to this reprint I considered that a writer's early orunregarded work is apt to be raked up when he is not standing by tomake remarks. He may be absent on a journey from which he is notexpected to return. It accordingly seemed better that I should myselfsupervise a new edition, since this would enable me to remove a fewof the numerous spots and pimples which decorate the ingeniouscountenance of the work before handing it on to posterity. 

Besides many small verbal corrections and changes, the deletion ofsome paragraphs and the insertion of a few new ones, I have omittedone entire chapter containing the Story of a Piebald Horse, recentlyreprinted in another book entitled _El Ombù_. I have also droppedthe tedious introduction to the former edition, only preserving, asan appendix, the historical part, for the sake of such of my readersas may like to have a few facts about the land that England lost. 

W. H. H. 

_September, 1904. _

[FOR THE SECOND EDITION]

[Illustration: MARGARITA]

[Illustration: DOLORES]

[Illustration: PAQUÍTA]

[Illustration: TORIBIA]

[Illustration: MONICA]

[Illustration: ANITA]

[Illustration: SANTA COLOMA]

[Illustration: CANDELARIA]

[Illustration: DEMETRIA]

[Illustration: HILARIO]

CHAPTER I

Three chapters in the story of my life--three periods, distinct andwell defined, yet consecutive--beginning when I had not completedtwenty-five years and finishing before thirty, will probably prove themost eventful of all. To the very end they will come back oftenest tomemory and seem more vivid than all the other years of existence--thefour-and-twenty I had already lived, and the, say, forty orforty-five--I hope it may be fifty or even sixty--which are to follow. For what soul in this wonderful, various world would wish to departbefore ninety! The dark as well as the light, its sweet and its bitter, make me love it. 

Of the first of these three a word only need be written. This was theperiod of courtship and matrimony; and though the experience seemedto me then something altogether new and strange in the world, it mustnevertheless have resembled that of other men, since all men marry. And the last period, which was the longest of the three, occupyingfully three years, could not be told. It was all black disaster. Threeyears of enforced separation and the extremest suffering which thecruel law of the land allowed an enraged father to inflict on his childand the man who had ventured to wed her against his will. Even thewise may be driven mad by oppression, and I that was never wise, butlived in and was led by the passions and illusions and the unboundedself-confidence of youth, what must it have been for me when we werecruelly torn asunder; when I was cast into prison to lie for longmonths in the company of felons, ever thinking of her who was alsodesolate and breaking her heart! But it is ended--the abhorrentrestraint, the anxiety, the breedings over a thousand possible andimpossible schemes of revenge. If it is any consolation to know thatin breaking her heart he, at the same time, broke his own, and madehaste to join her in that silent place, I have it. Ah no! it is nocomfort to me, since I cannot but reflect that before he shattered mylife I had shattered his by taking her from him, who was his idol. Weare quits then, and I can even say, "Peace to his ashes!" But I couldnot say it then in my frenzy and grief, nor could it be said in thatfatal country which I had inhabited from boyhood and had learned tolove like my own, and had hoped never to leave. It was grown hatefulto me, and, flying from it, I found myself once more in that PurpleLand where we had formerly taken refuge together, and which now seemedto my distracted mind a place of pleasant and peaceful memories. 

During the months of quietude after the storm, mostly spent in lonelyrambles by the shore, these memories were more and more with me. Sometimes sitting on the summit of that great solitary hill, whichgives the town its name, I would gaze by the hour on the wide prospecttowards the interior, as if I could see, and never weary of seeing, all that lay beyond--plains and rivers and woods and hills, and cabinswhere I had rested, and many a kindly human face. Even the faces ofthose who had ill-treated or regarded me with evil eyes now appearedto have a friendly look. Most of all did I think of that dear river, the unforgettable Yí, the shaded white house at the end of the littletown, and the sad and beautiful image of one whom I, alas! had madeunhappy. 

So much was I occupied towards the end of that vacant period with theserecollections that I remembered how, before quitting these shores, thethought had come to me that during some quiet interval in my life Iwould go over it all again, and write the history of my rambles forothers to read in the future. But I did not attempt it then, nor untillong years afterwards. For I had no sooner begun to play with the ideathan something came to rouse me from the state I was in, during whichI had been like one that has outlived his activities, and is no longercapable of a new emotion, but feeds wholly on the past. And thissomething new, affecting me so that I was all at once myself again, eager to be up and doing, was nothing more than a casual word from adistance, the cry of a lonely heart, which came by chance to my ear;and, hearing it, I was like one who, opening his eyes from a troubleddoze, unexpectedly sees the morning star in its unearthly lustre abovethe wide, dark plain where night overtook him--the star of day andeverlasting hope, and of passion and strife and toil and rest andhappiness. 

I need not linger on the events which took us to the Banda--ournocturnal flight from Paquíta's summer home on the pampas; the hidingand clandestine marriage in the capital and subsequent escape northwardsinto the province of Santa Fé; the seven to eight months of somewhattroubled happiness we had there; and, finally, the secret return toBuenos Ayres in search of a ship to take us out of the country. Troubledhappiness! Ah, yes, and my greatest trouble was when I looked on her, my partner for life, when she seemed loveliest, so small, so exquisitein her dark blue eyes that were like violets, and silky black hair andtender pink and olive complexion--so frail in appearance! And I hadtaken her--stolen her--from her natural protectors, from the home whereshe had been worshipped--I of an alien race and another religion, without means, and, because I had stolen her, an offender against thelaw. But of this no more. I begin my itinerary where, safe on ourlittle ship, with the towers of Buenos Ayres fast fading away in thewest, we began to feel free from apprehension and to give ourselvesup to the contemplation of the delights before us. Winds and wavespresently interfered with our raptures, Paquíta proving a veryindifferent sailor, so that for some hours we had a very trying timeof it. Next day a favourable north-west breeze sprang up to send usflying like a bird over those unlovely red billows, and in the eveningwe disembarked in Montevideo, the city of refuge. We proceeded to anhotel, where for several days we lived very happily, enchanted witheach other's society; and when we strolled along the beach to watchthe setting sun, kindling with mystic fire heaven, water, and the greathill that gives the city its name, and remembered that we were lookingtowards the shores of Buenos Ayres, it was pleasant to reflect thatthe widest river in the world rolled between us and those who probablyfelt offended at what we had done. 

This charming state of things came to an end at length in a somewhatcurious manner. One night, before we had been a month in the hotel, I was lying wide awake in bed. It was late; I had already heard themournful, long-drawn voice of the watchman under my window callingout, "Half-past one and cloudy. "

Gil Blas relates in his biography that one night while lying awake hefell into practising a little introspection, an unusual thing for himto do, and the conclusion he came to was that he was not a very goodyoung man. I was having a somewhat similar experience that night whenin the midst of my unflattering thoughts about myself, a profound sighfrom Paquíta made me aware that she too was lying wide awake and also, in all probability, chewing the cud of reflection. When I questionedher concerning that sigh, she endeavoured in vain to conceal from methat she was beginning to feel unhappy. What a rude shock the discoverygave me! And we so lately married! It is only just to Paquíta, however, to say that had I not married her she would have been still moreunhappy. Only the poor child could not help thinking of father andmother; she yearned for reconciliation, and her present sorrow rosefrom her belief that they would never, never, never forgive her. Iendeavoured, with all the eloquence I was capable of, to dispel thesegloomy ideas, but she was firm in her conviction that precisely becausethey had loved her so much they would never pardon this first greatoffence. My poor darling might have been reading _Christabel_, I thought, when she said that it is toward those who have been mostdeeply loved the wounded heart cherishes the greatest bitterness. Then, by way of illustration, she told me of a quarrel between her motherand a till then dearly loved sister. It had happened many years ago, when she, Paquíta, was a mere child; yet the sisters had never forgiveneach other. 

"And where, " I asked, "is this aunt of yours, of whom I have neverheard you speak until this minute?"

"Oh, " answered Paquíta, with the greatest simplicity imaginable, "sheleft this country long, long ago, and you never heard of her becausewe were not even allowed to mention her name in the house. She wentto live in Montevideo, and I believe she is there still, for severalyears ago I heard some person say that she had bought herself a housein that city. "

"Soul of my life, " said I, "you have never left Buenos Ayres in heart, even to keep your poor husband company! Yet I know, Paquíta, thatcorporeally you are here in Montevideo, conversing with me at thisvery moment. "

"True, " said Paquíta; "I had somehow forgotten that we were inMontevideo. My thoughts were wandering--perhaps it is sleepiness. "

"I swear to you, Paquíta, " I replied, "that you shall see this auntof yours to-morrow before set of sun; and I am positive, sweetest, that she will be delighted to receive so near and lovely a relation. How glad she will be of an opportunity of relating that ancient quarrelwith her sister and ventilating her mouldy grievances! I know theseold dames--they are all alike. "

Paquíta did not like the idea at first, but when I assured her thatwe were getting to the end of our money, and that her aunt might beable to put me in the way of obtaining employment, she consented, likethe dutiful little wife she was. 

Next day I discovered her relation without very much trouble, Montevideonot being a large city. We found Doña Isidora--for that was the lady'sname--living in a somewhat mean-looking house at the eastern extremityof the town, farthest away from the water. There was an air of povertyabout the place, for the good dame, though well provided with meansto live comfortably, made a pet of her gold. Nevertheless, she receivedus very kindly when we introduced ourselves and related our mournfuland romantic story; a room was prepared for our immediate reception, and she even made me some vague promises of assistance. On a moreintimate acquaintance with our hostess we found that I had not beenvery far out in guessing her character. For several days she couldtalk of nothing except her immemorial quarrel with her sister and hersister's husband, and we were bound to listen attentively and tosympathise with her, for that was the only return we could make forher hospitality. Paquíta had more than her share of it, but was madeno wiser as to the cause of this feud of long standing; for, thoughDoña Isidora had evidently been nursing her wrath all those years tokeep it warm, she could not, for the life of her, remember how thequarrel originated. 

After breakfast each morning I would kiss her and hand her over to thetender mercies of her Isidora, then go forth on my fruitlessperambulations about the town. At first I only acted the intelligentforeigner, going about staring at the public buildings, and collectingcurios--strangely marked pebbles, and a few military brass buttons, long shed by the garments they once made brave; rusty, misshapenbullets, mementoes of the immortal nine or ten years' siege which hadwon for Montevideo the mournful appellation of modern Troy. When I hadfully examined from the outside the scene of my future triumphs--forI had now resolved to settle down and make my fortune in Montevideo--Ibegan seriously to look out for employment. I visited in turn everylarge mercantile establishment in the place, and, in fact, every housewhere I thought there might be a chance of lighting on something todo. It was necessary to make a beginning, and I would not have turnedup my nose at anything, however small, I was so heartily sick of beingpoor, idle, and dependent. Nothing could I find. In one house I wastold that the city had not yet recovered from the effects of the laterevolution, and that business was, in consequence, in a complete stateof paralysis; in another that the city was on the eve of a revolution, and that business was, in consequence, in a complete state of paralysis. And everywhere it was the same story--the political state of the countrymade it impossible for me to win an honest dollar. 

Feeling very much dispirited, and with the soles nearly worn off myboots, I sat down on a bench beside the sea, or river--for some callit one thing, some the other, and the muddied hue and freshness of thewater, and the uncertain words of geographers, leave one in doubt asto whether Montevideo is situated on the shores of the Atlantic, oronly near the Atlantic and on the shores of a river one hundred andfifty miles wide at its mouth. I did not trouble my head about it; Ihad other things that concerned me more nearly to think of. I had aquarrel with this Oriental nation, and that was more to me than thegreenness or the saltness of the vast estuary that washes the dirtyfeet of its queen--for this modern Troy, this city of battle, murder, and sudden death, also calls itself Queen of the Plata. That it wasa very just quarrel on my part I felt well assured. Now, to be evenwith every human being who despitefully uses me has ever been aprinciple of action with me. Nor let it be said that it is anunchristian principle; for when I have been smitten on the right orleft cheek (the pain is just the same in either case), before I amprepared to deliver the return blow so long a time has often elapsedthat all wrathful or revengeful thoughts are over. I strike in sucha case more for the public good than for my own satisfaction, and amtherefore right in calling my motive a principle of action, not animpulse. It is a very valuable one too, infinitely more effective thanthe fantastical code of the duellist, which favours the person whoinflicts the injury, affording him facilities for murdering or maimingthe person injured. It is a weapon invented for us by Nature beforeColonel Colt ever lived, and it has this advantage, that one ispermitted to wear it in the most law-abiding communities as well asamongst miners and backwoodsmen. If inoffensive people were ever tocast it aside, then wicked men would have everything their own way andmake life intolerable. Fortunately the evil-doers always have the fearof this intangible six-shooter before them; a wholesome feeling, whichrestrains them more than reasonableness or the law courts, and to whichwe owe it that the meek are permitted to inherit the earth. But nowthis quarrel was with a whole nation, though certainly not with a verygreat one, since the population of the Banda Orientál numbers onlyabout a quarter of a million. Yet in this sparsely settled country, with its bountiful soil and genial climate, there was apparently noplace for me, a muscular and fairly intelligent young man, who onlyasked to be allowed to work to live! But how was I to make them smartfor this injustice? I could not take the scorpion they gave me whenI asked them for an egg, and make it sting every individual composingthe nation. I was powerless, utterly powerless, to punish them, andtherefore the only thing that remained for me to do was to curse them. 

Looking around me, my eyes rested on the famous hill across the bay, and I all at once resolved to go up to its summit, and, looking downon the Banda Orientál, pronounce my imprecation in the most solemn andimpressive manner. 

The expedition to the _cerro_, as it is called, proved agreeableenough. Notwithstanding the excessive heats we were just then having, many wild flowers were blooming on its slopes, which made it a perfectgarden. When I reached the old ruined fort which crowns the summit, I got upon a wall and rested for half an hour, fanned by a fresh breezefrom the river and greatly enjoying the prospect before me. I had notleft out of sight the serious object of my visit to that commandingspot, and only wished that the malediction I was about to utter couldbe rolled down in the shape of a stupendous rock, loosed from its hold, which would go bounding down the mountain, and, leaping clear over thebay, crash through the iniquitous city beyond, filling it with ruinand amazement. 

"Whichever way I turn, " I said, "I see before me one of the fairesthabitations God has made for man: great plains smiling with everlastingspring; ancient woods; swift, beautiful rivers; ranges of blue hillsstretching away to the dim horizon. And beyond those fair slopes, howmany leagues of pleasant wilderness are sleeping in the sunshine, wherethe wild flowers waste their sweetness and no plough turns the fruitfulsoil, where deer and ostrich roam fearless of the hunter, while overall bends a blue sky without a cloud to stain its exquisite beauty?And the people dwelling in yon city--the key to a continent--they arethe possessors of it all. It is theirs, since the world, out of whichthe old spirit is fast dying, has suffered them to keep it. What havethey done with this their heritage? What are they doing even now? Theyare sitting dejected in their houses, or standing in their doorwayswith folded arms and anxious, expectant faces. For a change is coming:they are on the eve of a tempest. Not an atmospheric change; noblighting simoom will sweep over their fields, nor will any volcaniceruption darken their crystal heavens. The earthquakes that shake theAndean cities to their foundations they have never known and can neverknow. The expected change and tempest is a political one. The plot isripe, the daggers sharpened, the contingent of assassins hired, thethrone of human skulls, styled in their ghastly facetiousness aPresidential Chair, is about to be assaulted. It is long, weeks oreven months, perhaps, since the last wave, crested with bloody froth, rolled its desolating flood over the country; it is high time, therefore, for all men to prepare themselves for the shock of thesucceeding wave. And we consider it right to root up thorns andthistles, to drain malarious marshes, to extirpate rats and vipers;but it would be immoral, I suppose, to stamp out these people becausetheir vicious natures are disguised in human shape; this people thatin crimes have surpassed all others, ancient or modern, until becauseof them the name of a whole continent has grown to be a byword of scornand reproach throughout the earth, and to stink in the nostrils of allmen!

"I swear that I, too, will become a conspirator if I remain long onthis soil. Oh, for a thousand young men of Devon and Somerset herewith me, every one of them with a brain on fire with thoughts likemine! What a glorious deed would be done for humanity! What a mightycheer we would raise for the glory of the old England that is passingaway! Blood would flow in yon streets as it never flowed before, or, I should say, as it only flowed in them once, and that was when theywere swept clean by British bayonets. And afterwards there would bepeace, and the grass would be greener and the flowers brighter forthat crimson shower. 

"Is it not then bitter as wormwood and gall to think that over thesedomes and towers beneath my feet, no longer than half a century ago, fluttered the holy cross of St. George! For never was there a holiercrusade undertaken, never a nobler conquest planned, than that whichhad for its object the wresting this fair country from unworthy hands, to make it for all time part of the mighty English kingdom. What wouldit have been now--this bright, winterless land, and this city commandingthe entrance to the greatest river in the world? And to think that itwas won for England, not treacherously, or bought with gold, but inthe old Saxon fashion with hard blows, and climbing over heaps of slaindefenders; and after it was thus won, to think that it was lost--willit be believed?--not fighting, but yielded up without a stroke bycraven wretches unworthy of the name of Britons! Here, sitting aloneon this mountain, my face burns like fire when I think of it--thisglorious opportunity lost for ever! 'We offer you your laws, yourreligion, and property under the protection of the British Government, 'loftily proclaimed the invaders--Generals Beresford, Achmuty, Whitelocke, and their companions; and presently, after suffering onereverse, they (or one of them) lost heart and exchanged the countrythey had drenched in blood, and had conquered, for a couple of thousandBritish soldiers made prisoners in Buenos Ayres across the water; then, getting into their ships once more, they sailed away from the Platafor ever! This transaction, which must have made the bones of ourViking ancestors rattle with indignation in their graves, was forgottenlater on when we seized the rich Falklands. A splendid conquest anda glorious compensation for our loss! When yon queen city was in ourgrasp, and the regeneration, possibly even the ultimate possession, of this green world before us, our hearts failed us and the prizedropped from our trembling hands. We left the sunny mainland to capturethe desolate haunt of seals and penguins; and now let all those whoin this quarter of the globe aspire to live under that 'BritishProtection' of which Achmuty preached so loudly at the gates of yoncapital, transport themselves to those lonely antarctic islands tolisten to the thunder of the waves on the grey shores and shiver inthe bleak winds that blow from the frozen south!"

After delivering this comminatory address I felt greatly relieved, andwent home in a cheerful frame of mind to supper, which consisted thatevening of mutton scrag, boiled with pumpkin, sweet potatoes, and milkymaize--not at all a bad dish for a hungry man. 

CHAPTER II

Several days passed, and my second pair of boots had been twice resoledbefore Doña Isidora's schemes for advancing my fortunes began to takeform. Perhaps she was beginning to think us a burden on her somewhatniggardly establishment; anyway, hearing that my preference was fora country life, she gave me a letter containing half a dozen lines ofcommendation addressed to the Mayordomo of a distant cattle-breedingestablishment, asking him to serve the writer by giving her_nephew_--as she called me--employment of some kind on the_estancia_. Probably she knew that this letter would really leadto nothing, and gave it merely to get me away into the interior of thecountry, so as to keep Paquíta for an indefinite time to herself, forshe had become extremely attached to her beautiful niece. The_estancia_ was on the borders of the Paysandù department, and notless than two hundred miles from Montevideo. It was a long journey, and I was advised not to attempt it without a _tropilla_, or troopof horses. But when a native tells you that you cannot travel twohundred miles without a dozen horses, he only means that you cannotdo the distance in two days; for it is hard for him to believe thatone may be satisfied with less than one hundred miles a day. I travelledon one horse, and it therefore took me several days to accomplish myjourney. Before I reached my destination, called Estancia de la Virginde los Desamparados, I met with some adventures worth relating, andbegan to feel as much at home with the _Orientáles_ as I had longbeen with the _Argentinos_. 

Fortunately, after I left the town, a west wind continued blowing allday, bringing with it many light, flying clouds to mitigate the sun, so that I was able to cover a good number of leagues before the evening. I took the road northwards through Camelones department, and was wellon into the Florida department when I put up for the night at thesolitary mud _rancho_ of an old herdsman, who lived with his wifeand children in a very primitive fashion. When I rode up to the house, several huge dogs rushed out to attack me: one seized my horse by thetail, dragging the poor beast about this way and that, so that hestaggered and could scarcely keep his legs; another caught thebridle-reins in his mouth; while a third fixed his fangs in the heelof my boot. After eyeing me for some moments, the grizzled old herdsman, who wore a knife a yard long at his waist, advanced to the rescue. Heshouted at the dogs, and finding that they would not obey, sprangforward and with a few dexterous blows, dealt with his heavywhip-handle, sent them away howling with rage and pain. Then he welcomedme with great courtesy, and very soon, when my horse had been unsaddledand turned loose to feed, we were sitting together enjoying the coolevening air and imbibing the bitter and refreshing _maté_ hiswife served to us. While we conversed I noticed numberless firefliesflitting about; I had never seen them so numerous before, and theymade a very lovely show. Presently one of the children, a bright littlefellow of seven or eight, came running to us with one of the sparklinginsects in his hand, and cried:

"Look, _tatita_, I have caught a _linterna_. See how bright it is!"

"The Saints forgive you, my child, " said the father. "Go, little son, and put it back on the grass, for if you should hurt it, the spiritswould be angry with you, for they go about by night, and love the_linterna_ that keeps them company. "

What a pretty superstition, I thought; and what a mild, merciful heartthis old Oriental herdsman must possess to show so much tendernesstowards one of God's tiny creatures. I congratulated myself on my goodfortune in having fallen in with such a person in this lonely place. 

The dogs, after their rude behaviour to me and the sharp punishmentthey had suffered in consequence, had returned, and were now gatheredaround us, lying on the ground. Here I noticed, not for the first time, that the dogs belonging to these lonely places are not nearly so fondof being noticed and caressed as are those of more populous andcivilised districts. On attempting to stroke one of these surly bruteson the head, he displayed his teeth and growled savagely at me. Yetthis animal, though so truculent in temper, and asking for no kindnessfrom his master, is just as faithful to man as his better-manneredbrother in the more settled country. I spoke on that subject to mygentle herdsman. 

"What you say is true, " he replied. "I remember once during the siegeof Montevideo, when I was with a small detachment sent to watch themovements of General Rivera's army, we one day overtook a man on atired horse. Our officer, suspecting him to be a spy, ordered him tobe killed, and, after cutting his throat, we left his body lying onthe open ground at a distance of about two hundred and fifty yardsfrom a small stream of water. A dog was with him, and when we rode offwe called it to follow us, but it would not stir from its dead master'sside. 

"Three days later we returned to the same spot, to find the corpselying just where we had left it. The foxes and birds had not touchedit, for the dog was still there to defend it. Many vultures were near, waiting for a chance to begin their feast. We alighted to refreshourselves at the stream, then stood there for half an hour watchingthe dog. He seemed to be half-famished with thirst, and came towardsthe stream to drink; but before he got half-way to it the vultures, by twos and threes, began to advance, when back he flew and chasedthem away, barking. After resting a few minutes beside the corpse, hecame again towards the stream, till, seeing the hungry birds advanceonce more, he again flew back at them, barking furiously and foamingat the mouth. This we saw repeated many times, and at last, when weleft, we tried once more to entice the dog to follow us, but he wouldnot. Two days after that we had occasion to pass by that spot again, and there we saw the dog lying dead beside his dead master. "

"Good God, " I exclaimed, "how horrible must have been the feelings youand your companions experienced at such a sight!"

"No, señor, not at all, " replied the old man. "Why, señor, I myselfput the knife into that man's throat. For if a man did not growaccustomed to shed blood in this world, his life would be a burden tohim. "

What an inhuman old murderer! I thought. Then I asked him whether hehad ever in his life felt remorse for shedding blood. 

"Yes, " he answered; "when I was a very young man, and had never beforedipped weapon in human blood; that was when the siege began. I wassent with half a dozen men in pursuit of a clever spy, who had passedthe lines with letters from the besieged. We came to a house where, our officer had been informed, he had been lying concealed. The masterof the house was a young man about twenty-two years old. He wouldconfess nothing. Finding him so stubborn, our officer became enraged, and bade him step out, and then ordered us to lance him. We gallopedforty yards off, then wheeled back. He stood silent, his arms foldedon his breast, a smile on his lips. Without a cry, without a groan, with that smile still on his lips, he fell pierced through with ourlances. For days afterwards his face was ever present to me. I couldnot eat, for my food choked me. When I raised a jug of water to mylips I could, señor, distinctly see his eyes looking at me from thewater. When I lay down to sleep, his face was again before me, alwayswith that smile that seemed to mock me on the lips. I could notunderstand it. They told me it was remorse, and that it would soonleave me, for there is no ill that time will not cure. They spoketruth, and when that feeling left me I was able to do all things. "

The old man's story so sickened me that I had little appetite forsupper, and passed a bad night thinking, waking or sleeping, of thatyoung man in this obscure corner of the world who folded his arms andsmiled on his slayers when they were slaying him. Very early nextmorning I bade my host good-bye, thanking him for his hospitality, anddevoutly hoping that I should never look upon his abhorred face again. 

I made little progress that day, the weather proving hot, and my horselazier than ever. After riding about five leagues, I rested for acouple of hours, then proceeded again at a gentle trot till about themiddle of the afternoon, when I dismounted at a wayside _pulpería_or store and public-house all in one, where several natives were sippingrum and conversing. Standing before them was a brisk-looking oldman--old, I say, because he had a dark, dry skin, though his hair andmoustache were black as jet--who paused in the discourse he appearedto be delivering, to salute me; then, after bestowing a searchingglance on me out of his dark, hawk-like eyes, he resumed his talk. After calling for rum and water, to be in the fashion, I sat down ona bench, and, lighting a cigarette, prepared to listen. He was dressedin shabby gaucho habiliments--cotton shirt, short jacket, wide cottondrawers, and _chiripa_, a shawl-like garment fastened at the waistwith a sash, and reaching down half-way between the knees and ankles. In place of a hat he wore a cotton handkerchief tied carelessly abouthis head; his left foot was bare, while the right one was cased in acolt's-skin stocking, called _bota-de-potro_, and on thisdistinguished foot was buckled a huge iron spur, with spikes two incheslong. One spur of the kind would be quite sufficient, I should imagine, to get out of a horse all the energy of which he was capable. When Ientered he was holding forth on the pretty well-worn theme of fate_versus_ free will; his arguments were not, however, the usualdry philosophical ones, but took the form of illustration, chieflypersonal reminiscences and strange incidents in the lives of peoplehe had known, while so vivid and minute were his descriptions--sparklingwith passion, satire, humour, pathos, and so dramatic his action, whilewonderful story followed story--that I was fairly astonished, andpronounced this old _pulpería_ orator a born genius. 

His argument over, he fixed his keen eyes on me and said:

"My friend, I perceive you are a traveller from Montevideo: may I askwhat news there is from that city?"

"What news do you expect to hear?" said I; then it came into my thoughtthat it was scarcely proper to confine myself to more commonplacephrases in replying to this curious old Oriental bird, with such raggedplumage, but whose native woodnotes wild had such a charm in them. "Itis only the old story over again!" I continued. "They say there willbe a revolution some day. Some of the people have already retired intotheir houses, after chalking in very big letters on their front doors, 'Please come into this house and cut the owner's throat for him, sothat he may rest at peace, and have no fear of what may happen. ' Othershave climbed on to their roofs, and occupy themselves there lookingat the moon through spy-glasses, thinking that the conspirators areconcealed in that luminary, and only waiting for a cloud to obscureit, in order to descend upon the city unobserved. "

"Hear!" cried the old man, rapping delighted applause on the counterwith his empty glass. 

"What do you drink, friend?" I asked, thinking his keen appreciationof my grotesque speech deserved a treat, and wishing to draw him outa little more. 

"Rum, friend, thank you. They say it warms you in winter, and coolsyou in summer--what can you have better?"

"Tell me, " said I, when his glass had been refilled by the storekeeper, "what I shall say when I return to Montevideo, and am asked what newsthere is in the country?"

The old fellow's eyes twinkled, while the other men ceased talking, and looked at him as if anticipating something good in reply to myquestion. 

"Say to them, " he answered, "that you met an old man--a horse tamernamed Lucero--and that he told you this fable for you to repeat to thetownspeople: Once there was a great tree named Montevideo growing inthis country, and in its branches lived a colony of monkeys. One dayone of the monkeys came down from the tree and ran full of excitementacross the plain, now scrambling along like a man on all fours, thenerect like a dog running on its hind legs, while its tail, with nothingto catch hold of, wriggled about like a snake when its head is underfoot. He came to a place where a number of oxen were grazing, and somehorses, ostriches, deer, goats, and pigs. 'Friends all, ' cried themonkey, grinning like a skull, and with staring eyes round as dollars, 'great news! great news! I come to tell you that there will shortlybe a revolution. ' 'Where?' said an ox. 'In the tree--where else?' saidthe monkey. 'That does not concern us, ' said the ox. 'Oh, yes, itdoes!' cried the monkey, 'for it will presently spread about the countryand you will all have your throats cut. ' Then the ox replied, 'Go back, monkey, and do not molest us with your news, lest we get angry and goto besiege you in your tree, as we have often had to do since thecreation of the world; and then, if you and the other monkeys comedown to us, we will toss you on our horns. '"

This apologue sounded very well, so admirably did the old man pictureto us with voice and gesture the chattering excitement of the monkeyand the majestic _aplomb_ of the ox. 

"Señor, " he continued, after the laugh had subsided, "I do not wishany of my friends and neighbours here present to fly to the conclusionthat I have spoken anything offensive. Had I seen in you a MontevideanI should not have spoken of monkeys. But, señor, though you speak aswe do, there is yet in the pepper and salt on your tongue a certainforeign flavour. "

"You are right, " I said; "I am a foreigner. "

"A foreigner in some things, friend, for you were doubtless born underother skies; but in that chief quality, which we think was given bythe Creator to us and not to the people of other lands--the abilityto be one in heart with the men you meet, whether they are clothed invelvet or in sheep-skins--in that you are one of us, a pure Oriental. "

I smiled at his subtle flattery; possibly it was only meant in paymentof the rum I had treated him to, but it pleased me none the less, andto his other mental traits I was now inclined to add a marvellous skillin reading character. 

After a while he invited me to spend the night under his roof. "Yourhorse is fat and lazy, " he said with truth, "and, unless you are arelation of the owl family, you cannot go much farther before to-morrow. My house is a humble one, but the mutton is juicy, the fire warm, andthe water cool there, the same as in another place. "

I readily accepted his invitation, wishing to see as much as I couldof so original a character, and before starting I purchased a bottleof rum, which made his eyes sparkle so that I thought hisname--Lucero--rather an appropriate one. His _rancho_ was abouttwo miles from the store, and our ride thither was about as strangea gallop as I ever took. Lucero was a _domador_, or horse-tamer, and the beast he rode was quite unbroken and vicious as it could be. Between horse and man a fierce struggle for mastery raged the wholetime, the horse rearing, plunging, buck-jumping, and putting intopractice every conceivable trick to rid itself of its burden; whileLucero plied whip and spur with tremendous energy and poured outtorrents of strange adjectives. At one moment he would come into violentcollision with my old sober beast, at another there would be fiftyyards of ground between us; still Lucero would not stop talking, forhe had begun a very interesting story at starting, and he stuck to hisnarrative through everything, resuming the thread after each tempestof execration vented on his horse, and raising his voice almost to ashout when we were far apart. The old fellow's staying powers werereally extraordinary, and when we arrived at the house he jumped airilyto the ground, and seemed fresh and calm as possible. 

In the kitchen were several people sipping _maté_, Lucero'schildren and grandchildren, also his wife, a grey old dame withdim-looking eyes. But then my host was old in years himself, only, like Ulysses, he still possessed the unquenched fire and energy ofyouth in his soul, while time bestowed infirmities together withwrinkles and white hairs on his helpmate. 

He introduced me to her in a manner that brought the modest flame tomy cheeks. Standing before her, he said that he had met me at the_pulpería_ and had put to me the question which a simple oldcountryman must ask of every traveller from Montevideo--What the newswas? Then, assuming a dry, satirical tone, which years of practicewould not enable me to imitate, he proceeded to give my fantasticalanswer, garnished with much original matter of his own. 

"Señora, " I said, when he had finished, "you must not give me creditfor all you have heard from your husband. I only gave him brute wool, and he has woven it for your delight into beautiful cloth. "

"Hear him! Did I tell you what to expect, Juana?" cried the old man, which made me blush still more. 

We then settled down to _maté_ and quiet conversation. Sittingin the kitchen on the skull of a horse--a common article of furniturein an Oriental _rancho_--was a boy about twelve years old, oneof Lucero's grandchildren, with a very beautiful face. His feet werebare and his clothes very poor, but his soft dark eyes and olive facehad that tender, half-melancholy expression often seen in children ofSpanish origin, which is always so strangely captivating. 

"Where is your guitar, Cipriano?" said his grandfather, addressinghim, whereupon the boy rose and fetched a guitar, which he firstpolitely offered to me. 

When I had declined it, he seated himself once more on his polishedhorse-skull and began to play and sing. He had a sweet boy's voice, and one of his ballads took my fancy so much that I made him repeatthe words to me while I wrote them down in my notebook, which greatlygratified Lucero, who seemed proud of the boy's accomplishment. Hereare the words translated almost literally, therefore without rhymes, and I only regret that I cannot furnish my musical readers with thequaint, plaintive air they were sung to:

 O let me go--O let me go, Where high are born amidst the hills The streams that gladden all the south, And o'er the grassy desert wide, Where slakes his thirst the antlered deer, Hurry towards the great green ocean. 

 The stony hills--the stony hills, With azure air-flowers on their crags, Where cattle stray unowned by man; The monarch of the herd there seems No bigger than my hand in size, Roaming along the tall, steep summit. 

 I know them well--I know them well, Those hills of God, and they know me; When I go there they are serene, But when the stranger visits them Dark rain-clouds gather round their tops-- Over the earth goes forth the tempest. 

 Then tell me not--then tell me not 'Tis sorrowful to dwell alone; My heart within the city pent Pines for the desert's liberty; The streets are red with blood, and fear Makes pale and mournful women's faces. 

 O bear me far--O bear me far, On swift, sure feet, my trusty steed: I do not love the burial-ground, But I shall sleep upon the plain, Where long green grass shall round me wave-- Over me graze wild herds of cattle. 

CHAPTER III

Leaving the eloquent old horse-tamer's _rancho_ early next morning, I continued my ride, jogging quietly along all day and, leaving theFlorida department behind me, entered upon that of the Durazno. HereI broke my journey at an _estancia_ where I had an excellentopportunity of studying the manners and customs of the Orientals, andwhere I also underwent experiences of a mixed character and greatlyincreased my knowledge of the insect world. This house, at which Iarrived an hour before sunset to ask for shelter ("permission tounsaddle" is the expression the traveller uses), was a long, lowstructure, thatched with rushes, but the low, enormously thick wallswere built of stone from the neighbouring sierras, in pieces of allshapes and sizes, and presenting, outwardly, the rough appearance ofa stone fence. How these rudely piled-up stones, without cement tohold them together, had not fallen down was a mystery to me; and itwas more difficult still to imagine why the rough interior, with itsinnumerable dusty holes and interstices, had never been plastered. 

I was kindly received by a very numerous family, consisting of theowner, his hoary-headed old mother-in-law, his wife, three sons, andfive daughters, all grown up. There were also several small children, belonging, I believe, to the daughters, notwithstanding the fact thatthey were unmarried. I was greatly amazed at hearing the name of oneof these youngsters. Such Christian names as Trinity, Heart of Jesus, Nativity, John of God, Conception, Ascension, Incarnation, are commonenough, but these had scarcely prepared me to meet with afellow-creature named--well, Circumcision! Besides the people, therewere dogs, cats, turkeys, ducks, geese, and fowls without number. Notcontent with all these domestic birds and beasts, they also kept ahorrid, shrieking paroquet, which the old woman was incessantly talkingto, explaining to the others all the time, in little asides, what thebird said or wished to say, or, rather, what she imagined it wishedto say. There were also several tame young ostriches, always hangingabout the big kitchen or living-room on the look-out for a brassthimble, or iron spoon, or other little metallic _bonne bouche_to be gobbled up when no one was looking. A pet armadillo kept trottingin and out, in and out, the whole evening, and a lame gull was alwaysstanding on the threshold in everybody's way, perpetually wailing forsomething to eat--the most persistent beggar I ever met in my life. 

The people were very jovial, and rather industrious for so indolenta country. The land was their own, the men tended the cattle, of whichthey appeared to have a large number, while the women made cheeses, rising before daylight to milk the cows. 

During the evening two or three young men--neighbours, I imagine, whowere paying their addresses to the young ladies of the establishment--dropped in; and after a plentiful supper, we had singing and dancing tothe music of the guitar, on which every member of the family--exceptingthe babies--could strum a little. 

About eleven o'clock I retired to rest, and, stretching myself on myrude bed of rugs, in a room adjoining the kitchen, I blessed thesesimple-minded, hospitable people. Good heavens, thought I to myself, what a glorious field is waiting here for some new Theocritus! Howunutterably worn out, stilted, and artificial seems all the so-calledpastoral poetry ever written when one sits down to supper and joinsin the graceful _Cielo_ or _Pericon_ in one of these remote, semi-barbarous South American _estancias_! I swear I will turn poetmyself, and go back some day to astonish old _blasé_ Europe withsomething so--so--What the deuce was that? My sleepy soliloquy wassuddenly brought to a most lame and impotent conclusion, for I hadheard a sound of terror--the unmistakable _zz-zzing_ of an insect'swings. It was the hateful _vinchuca_. Here was an enemy againstwhich British pluck and six-shooters are of no avail, and in whosepresence one begins to experience sensations which are not usuallysupposed to enter into the brave man's breast. Naturalists tell usthat it is the _Connorhinus infectans_, but, as that informationleaves something to be desired, I will proceed in a few words todescribe the beast. It inhabits the entire Chilian, Argentine, andOriental countries, and to all the dwellers in this vast territory itis known as the _vinchuca_; for, like a few volcanoes, deadlyvipers, cataracts, and other sublime natural objects, it has beenpermitted to keep the ancient name bestowed on it by the aborigines. It is all over of a blackish-brown colour, as broad as a man'sthumb-nail, and flat as the blade of a table-knife--when fasting. Byday it hides, bug-like, in holes and chinks, but no sooner are thecandles put out, than forth it comes to seek whom it may devour; for, like the pestilence, it walks in darkness. It can fly, and in a darkroom knows where you are and can find you. Having selected a nicetender part, it pierces the skin with its proboscis or rostrum, andsucks vigorously for two or three minutes, and, strange to say, youdo not feel the operation, even when lying wide awake. By that timethe creature, so attenuated before, has assumed the figure, size, andgeneral appearance of a ripe gooseberry, so much blood has it drawnfrom your veins. Immediately after it has left you the part begins toswell up and burn as if stung by nettles. That the pain should comeafter and not during the operation is an arrangement very advantageousto the _vinchuca_, and I greatly doubt whether any other blood-suckingparasite has been equally favoured by nature in this respect. 

Imagine then my sensations when I heard the sound of not one, but twoor three pairs of wings! I tried to forget the sound and go to sleep. I tried to forget about those rough old walls full of interstices--ahundred years old they were, my host had informed me. Most interestingold house, thought I; and then very suddenly a fiery itching tookpossession of my great toe. There it is! said I; heated blood, latesupper, dancing, and all that. I can almost imagine that something hasactually bitten me, when of course nothing of that kind has happened. Then, while I was furiously rubbing and scratching it, feeling abadger-like disposition to gnaw it off, my left arm was pierced withred-hot needles. My attentions were quickly transferred to that part;but soon my busy hands were called elsewhere, like a couple ofhard-worked doctors in a town afflicted with an epidemic; and so allnight long, with only occasional snatches of miserable sleep, thecontest went on. 

I rose early, and, going to a wide stream, a quarter of a mile fromthe house, took a plunge which greatly refreshed me and gave me strengthto go in quest of my horse. Poor brute! I had intended giving him aday's rest, so pleasant and hospitable had the people shown themselves;but now I shuddered at the thought of spending another night in sucha purgatory. I found him so lame that he could scarcely walk, and soreturned to the house on foot and very much cast down. My host consoledme by assuring me that I would sleep the siesta all the better forhaving been molested by those "little things that go about, " for inthis very mild language he described the affliction. After breakfast, at noon, acting on his hint, I took a rug to the shade of a tree and, lying down, quickly fell into a profound sleep, which lasted till latein the afternoon. 

That evening visitors came again, and we had a repetition of thesinging, dancing, and other pastoral amusements, till near midnight;then, thinking to cheat my bedfellows of the night before, I made mysimple bed in the kitchen. But here also the vile _vinchucas_ found me, and there were, moreover, dozens of fleas that waged a sort of guerillawarfare all night, and in this way exhausted my strength and distractedmy attention, while the more formidable adversary took up his position. My sufferings were so great that before daybreak I picked up my rugs andwent out a distance from the house to lie down on the open plain, but Icarried with me a smarting body and got but little rest. When morningcame I found that my horse had not yet recovered from his lameness. 

"Do not be in a hurry to leave us, " said my host, when I spoke of it. "I perceive that the little animals have again fought with and defeatedyou. Do not mind it; in time you will grow accustomed to them. "

How _they_ contrived to endure it, or even to exist, was a puzzleto me; but possibly the _vinchucas_ respected them, and only dinedwhen, like the giant in the nursery rhyme, they "smelt the blood ofan Englishman. "

I again enjoyed a long siesta, and when night came resolved to placemyself beyond the reach of the vampires, and so, after supper, wentout to sleep on the plain. About midnight, however, a sudden storm ofwind and rain drove me back to the shelter of the house, and the nextmorning I rose in such a deplorable state that I deliberately caughtand saddled my horse, though the poor beast could scarcely put onefoot on the ground. My friends laughed good-humouredly when they sawme making these resolute preparations for departure. After partakingof bitter _maté_, I rose and thanked them for their hospitality. 

"You surely do not intend leaving us on that animal!" said my host. "He is unfit to carry you. "

"I have no other, " I replied, "and am anxious to reach my destination. "

"Had I known this I would have offered you a horse before, " he returned, and then he sent one of his sons to drive the horses of the_estancia_ into the corral. 

Selecting a good-looking animal from the herd, he presented it to me, and as I did not have money enough to buy a fresh horse whenever Iwanted one, I accepted the gift very gladly. The saddle was quicklytransferred to my new acquisition, and, once more thanking these goodpeople and bidding adieu, I resumed my journey. 

When I gave my hand before leaving to the youngest, and also, to mymind, the prettiest of the five daughters of the house, instead ofsmiling pleasantly and wishing me a prosperous journey, like the others, she was silent, and darted a look at me, which seemed to say, "Go, sir; you have treated me badly, and you insult me by offering yourhand; if I take it, it is not because I feel disposed to forgive you, but only to save appearances. "

At the same moment, when she bestowed that glance on me which said somuch, a look of intelligence passed over the faces of the other peoplein the room. All this revealed to me that I had just missed a verypretty little idyllic flirtation, conducted in very novel circumstances. Love cometh up as a flower, and men and charming women naturally flirtwhen brought together. Yet it was hard to imagine how I could havestarted a flirtation and carried it on to its culminatory point inthat great public room, with all those eyes on me; dogs, babes, andcats tumbling about my feet; ostriches staring covetously at my buttonswith great vacant eyes; and that intolerable paroquet perpetuallyreciting "How the waters came down at Lodore, " in its own shrieky, beaky, birdy, hurdy-gurdy, parrot language. Tender glances, softwhispered words, hand-touchings, and a thousand little personalattentions, showing which way the emotions tend, would scarcely havebeen practicable in such a place and in such conditions, and new signsand symbols would have to be invented to express the feelings of theheart. And doubtless these Orientals, living all together in one greatroom, with their children and pets, like our very ancient ancestors, the pastoral Aryans, do possess such a language. And this prettylanguage I should have learnt from the most willing of teachers, ifthose venomous _vinchucas_ had not dulled my brain with theirpersecutions and made me blind to a matter which had not escaped theobservation of even unconcerned lookers-on. Riding away from the_estancia_, the feeling I experienced at having finally escapedfrom these execrable "little things that go about" was not one ofunmixed satisfaction. 

CHAPTER IV

Continuing my journey through the Durazno district, I forded the prettyRiver Yí and entered the Tacuarembó department, which is immenselylong, extending right away to the Brazilian frontier. I rode over itsnarrowest part, however, where it is only about twenty-five miles wide;then, crossing two very curiously named rivers, Rios Salsipuedes Chicoand Salsipuedes Grande, which mean Get-out-if-you-can Rivers, Littleand Big, I at length reached the termination of my journey in theprovince or department of Paysandù. The Estancia de la Virgen de losDesamparados, or, to put it very shortly, Vagabonds' Rest, was agood-sized, square brick house built on very high ground, whichoverlooked an immense stretch of grassy, undulating country. 

There was no plantation about the house, not even a shade tree orcultivated plant of any description, but only some large _corrales_, orenclosures, for the cattle, of which there were six or seven thousandhead on the land. The absence of shade and greenery gave the place adesolate, uninviting aspect, but if I was ever to have any authority herethis would soon be changed. The Mayordomo, or manager, Don PolicarpoSantierra de Peñalosa, which, roughly done into English, means Polycarpof the Holy Land abounding in Slippery Rocks, proved to be a verypleasant, affable person. He welcomed me with that quiet Orientalpoliteness which is never cold and never effusive, and then perused theletter from Doña Isidora. Finally he said, "I am willing, my friend, tosupply you with all the conveniences procurable at this elevation; and, for the rest, you know, doubtless, what I can say to you. A readyunderstanding requires few words. Nevertheless, there is here no lack ofgood beef, and, to be short, you will do me a great favour by making thishouse with everything it contains your own, while you honour us byremaining in it. "

After delivering himself of these kindly sentiments, which left merather in a mist as to my prospects, he mounted his horse and rodeoff, probably on some very important affair, for I saw no more of himfor several days. 

I at once proceeded to establish myself in the kitchen. No person inthehouse appeared ever to pay even a casual visit to any other room. This kitchen was vast and barn-like, forty feet long at least, andproportionately wide; the roof was of reeds, and the hearth, placedin the centre of the floor, was a clay platform, fenced round withcows' shank-bones, half buried and standing upright. Some trivets andiron kettles were scattered about, and from the centre beam, supportingthe roof, a chain and hook were suspended to which a vast iron pot wasfastened. One more article, a spit about six feet long for roastingmeat, completed the list of cooking utensils. There were no chairs, tables, knives, or forks; everyone carried his own knife, and atmeal-time the boiled meat was emptied into a great tin dish, whilstthe roast was eaten from the spit, each one laying hold with his fingersand cutting his slice. The seats were logs of wood and horse-skulls. The household was composed of one woman, an ancient, hideously ugly, grey-headed negress, about seventy years old, and eighteen or nineteenmen of all ages and sizes, and of all colours from parchment-white tovery old oak. There was a _capatas, _ or overseer, and seven or eight paid_peones, _ the others being all _agregados_--that is, supernumerarieswithout pay, or, to put it plainly, vagabonds who attach themselves likevagrant dogs to establishments of this kind, lured by the abundance offlesh, and who occasionally assist the regular _peones_ at their work, and also do a little gambling and stealing to keep themselves in smallchange. At break of day everyone was up sitting by the hearth sippingbitter _maté_ and smoking cigarettes; before sunrise all were mountedand away over the surrounding country to gather up the herds; at middaythey were back again to breakfast. The consumption and waste of meatwas something frightful. Frequently, after breakfast, as much as twentyor thirty pounds of boiled and roast meat would be thrown into awheelbarrow and carried out to the dust-heap, where it served to feedscores of hawks, gulls, and vultures, besides the dogs. 

Of course, I was only an _agregado_, having no salary or regularoccupation yet. Thinking, however, that this would only be for a time, I was quite willing to make the best of things, and very soon becamefast friends with my fellow _agregados_, joining heartily in alltheir amusements and voluntary labours. 

In a few days I got very tired of living exclusively on flesh, for noteven a biscuit was "procurable at this elevation"; and as for a potato, one might as well have asked for a plum-pudding. It occurred to mymind at last that, with so many cows, it might be possible to procuresome milk and introduce a little change into our diet. In the eveningI broached the subject, proposing that on the following day we shouldcapture a cow and tame her. Some of the men approved of the suggestion, remarking that they had never thought of it themselves; but the oldnegress, who, being the only representative of the fair sex present, was always listened to with all the deference due to her position, threw herself with immense zeal into the opposition. She affirmed thatno cow had been milked at that establishment since its owner had paidit a visit with his young wife twelve years before. A milch-cow wasthen kept, and on the señora partaking of a large quantity of milk"before breaking her fast, " it produced such an indigestion in herthat they were obliged to give her powdered ostrich stomach, and finallyto convey her, with great trouble, in an ox-cart to Paysandù, andthence by water to Montevideo. The owner ordered the cow to be released, and never, to her certain knowledge, had cow been milked since at LaVirgen de los Desamparados. 

These ominous croakings produced no effect on me, and the next day Ireturned to the subject. I did not possess a lasso, and so could notundertake to capture a half-wild cow without assistance. One of myfellow _agregados_ at length volunteered to help me, observingthat he had not tasted milk for several years, and was inclined torenew his acquaintance with that singular beverage. This new-foundfriend in need merits being formally introduced to the reader. Hisname was Epifanio Claro. He was tall and thin, and had an idioticexpression on his long, sallow face. His cheeks were innocent ofwhiskers, and his lank, black hair, parted in the middle, fell to hisshoulders, enclosing his narrow face between a pair of raven's wings. He had very large, light-coloured, sheepish-looking eyes, and hiseyebrows bent up like a couple of Gothic arches, leaving a narrow stripabove them that formed the merest apology for a forehead. This facialpeculiarity had won for him the nickname of Cejas (Eyebrows), by whichhe was known to his intimates. He spent most of his time strumming ona wretched old cracked guitar, and singing amorous ballads in alugubrious, whining falsetto, which reminded me not a little of thathungry, complaining gull I had met at the _estancia_ in Durazno. For, though poor Epifanio had an absorbing passion for music, Naturehad unkindly withheld from him the power to express it in a mannerpleasing to others. I must, however, in justice to him, allow that hegave a preference to ballads or compositions of a thoughtful, not tosay metaphysical, character. I took the trouble of translating thewords of one literally, and here they are:

 Yesterday my senses opened, At a rap-a-tap from Reason, Inspiring in me an intention Which I never had before, Seeing that through all my days My life has been just what it is. Therefore when I rose I said, To-day shall be as yesterday, Since Reason tells me I have been From day to day the self-same thing. 

This is very little to judge from, being only a fourth part of thesong; but it is a fair specimen, and the rest is no clearer. Of courseit is not to be supposed that Epifanio Claro, an illiterate person, took in the whole philosophy of these lines; still, it is probablethat a subtle ray or two of their deep meaning touched his intellect, to make him a wiser and a sadder man. 

Accompanied by this strange individual, and with the grave permissionof the _capatas_, who declined, however, in words of many syllables, all_responsabilidad_ in the matter, we went out to the grazing grounds inquest of a promising-looking cow. Very soon we found one to our liking. She was followed by a small calf, not more than a week old, and herdistended udder promised a generous supply of milk; but unfortunately shewas fierce-tempered, and had horns as sharp as needles. 

"We will cut them by and by, " shouted Eyebrows. 

He then lassoed the cow, and I captured the calf, and lifting it intothe saddle before me, started homewards. The cow followed me at afurious pace, and behind came Claro at a swinging gallop. Possibly hewas a little too confident, and carelessly let his captive pull theline that held her; anyhow, she turned suddenly on him, charged withamazing fury, and sent one of her horrid horns deep into the belly ofhis horse. He was, however, equal to the occasion, first dealing hera smart blow on the nose, which made her recoil for a moment; he thensevered the lasso with his knife, and, shouting to me to drop the calf, made his escape. We pulled up as soon as we had reached a safe distance, Claro drily remarking that the lasso had been borrowed, and that thehorse belonged to the _estancia_, so that we had lost nothing. He alighted, and stitched up the great gash in the poor brute's belly, using for a thread a few hairs plucked from its tail. It was a difficulttask, or would have been so to me, as he had to bore holes in theanimal's hide with his knife-point, but it seemed quite easy to him. Taking the remaining portion of the severed lasso, he drew it roundthe hind and one of the fore feet of his horse, and threw him to theground with a dexterous jerk; then, binding him there, performed theoperations of sewing up the wound in about two minutes. 

"Will he live?" I asked. 

"How can I tell?" he answered indifferently. "I only know that now hewill be able to carry me home; if he dies afterwards, what will itmatter?"

We then mounted and rode quietly home. Of course, we were chaffedwithout mercy, especially by the old negress, who had foreseen allalong, she told us, just how it would be. One would have imagined, tohear this old black creature talk, that she looked on milk-drinkingas one of the greatest moral offences man could be guilty of, and thatin this case Providence had miraculously interposed to prevent us fromgratifying our depraved appetites. 

Eyebrows took it all very coolly. 

"Do not notice them, " he said to me. "The lasso was not ours, the horsewas not ours, what does it matter what they say?"

The owner of the lasso, who had good-naturedly lent it to us, rousedhimself on hearing this. He was a very big, rough-looking man, hisface covered with an immense shaggy black beard. I had taken him fora good-humoured specimen of the giant kind before, but I now changedmy opinion of him when his angry passions began to rise. Blas, orBarbudo, as we called the giant, was seated on a log sipping _maté_. 

"Perhaps you take me for a sheep, sirs, because you see me wrapped inskins, " he observed; "but let me tell you this, the lasso I lent youmust be returned to me. "

"These words are not for us, " remarked Eyebrows, addressing me, "butfor the cow that carried away his lasso on her horns--curse them forbeing so sharp!"

"No, sir, " returned Barbudo, "do not deceive yourself; they are notfor the cow, but for the fool that lassoed the cow. And I promise you, Epifanio, that if it is not restored to me, this thatch over our headswill not be broad enough to shelter us both. "

"I am pleased to hear it, " said the other, "for we are short of seats;and when you leave us, the one you now encumber with your carcass willbe occupied by some more meritorious person. "

"You can say what you like, for no one has yet put a padlock on yourlips, " said Barbudo, raising his voice to a shout; "but you are notgoing to plunder me; and if my lasso is not restored to me, then Iswear I will make myself a new one out of a human hide. "

"Then, " said Eyebrows, "the sooner you provide yourself with a hidefor the purpose, the better, for I will never return the lasso to you;for who am I to fight against Providence, that took it out of my hands?"

To this Barbudo replied furiously:

"Then I will have it from this miserable starved foreigner, who comeshere to learn to eat meat and put himself on an equality with men. Evidently he was weaned too soon; but if the starveling hungers forinfant's food, let him in future milk the cats that warm themselvesbeside the fire, and can be caught without a lasso, even by aFrenchman!"

I could not endure the brute's insults, and sprang up from my seat. I happened to have a large knife in my hand, for we were just preparingto make an assault on the roasted ribs of a cow, and my first impulsewas to throw down the knife and give him a blow with my fist. Had Iattempted it I should most probably have paid dearly for my rashness. The instant I rose Barbudo was on me, knife in hand. He aimed a furiousblow, which luckily missed me, and at the same moment I struck him, and he reeled back with a dreadful gash on his face. It was all donein a second of time, and before the others could interpose; in anothermoment they disarmed us, and set about bathing the barbarian's wound. During the operation, which I daresay was very painful, for the oldnegress insisted on having the wound bathed with rum instead of water, the brute blasphemed outrageously, vowing that he would cut out myheart and eat it stewed with onions and seasoned with cummin seed andvarious other condiments. 

I have often since thought of that sublime culinary conception of Blasthe barbarian. There must have been a spark of wild Oriental geniusin his bovine brains. 

When the exhaustion caused by rage, pain, and loss of blood had atlength reduced him to silence, the old negress turned on him, exclaimingthat he had been rightly punished, for had he not, in spite of hertimely warnings, lent his lasso to enable these two heretics (for thatis what she called us) to capture a cow? Well, his lasso was lost;then his friends, with the gratitude only to be expected frommilk-drinkers, had turned round and well-nigh killed him. 

After supper the _capatas_ got me alone, and with excessivefriendliness of manner, and an abundance of circumlocutory phrases, advised me to leave the _estancia_, as it would not be safe forme to remain. I replied that I was not to blame, having struck the manin self-defence; also, that I had been sent to the _estancia_ bya friend of the Mayordomo, and was determined to see him and give himmy version of the affair. 

The _capatas_ shrugged his shoulders and lit a cigarette. 

At length Don Policarpo returned, and when I told him my story helaughed slightly, but said nothing. In the evening I reminded him ofthe subject of the letter I had brought from Montevideo, asking himwhether it was his intention to give me some employment on the _estancia_. 

"You see, my friend, " he replied, "to employ you now would be useless, however valuable your services might be, for by this time theauthorities will have information of your fight with Blas. In thecourse of a few days you may expect them here to make inquiries intothat affair, and it is probable that you and Blas will both be takeninto custody. "

"What then would you advise me to do?" I asked. 

His answer was, that when the ostrich asked the deer what he wouldadvise him to do when the hunters appeared, the deer's reply was, "Runaway. "

I laughed at his pretty apologue, and answered that I did not thinkthe authorities would trouble themselves about me--also that I was notfond of running away. 

Eyebrows, who had hitherto been rather inclined to patronise me andtake me under his protection, now became very warm in his friendship, which was, however, dashed with an air of deference when we were alonetogether, but in company he was fond of parading his familiarity withme. I did not quite understand this change of manner at first, but byand by he took me mysteriously aside and became extremely confidential. 

"Do not distress yourself about Barbudo, " he said. "He will never againpresume to lift his hand against you; and if you will only condescendto speak kindly to him, he will be your humble slave and proud to haveyou wipe your greasy fingers on his beard. Take no notice of what theMayordomo says, he also is afraid of you. If the authorities take you, it will only be to see what you can give them: they will not keep youlong, for you are a foreigner, and cannot be made to serve in the army. But when you are again at liberty it will be necessary for you to killsomeone. " Very much amazed, I asked him why. "You see, " he replied, "your reputation as a fighter is now established in this department, and there is nothing men envy more. It is the same as in our old gameof _pato, _ where the man that carries the duck away is pursuedby all the others, and before they give up chasing him he must provethat he can keep what he has taken. There are several fighters you donot know, who have resolved to pick quarrels with you in order to tryyour strength. In your next fight you must not wound, but kill, or youwill have no peace. " I was greatly disturbed at this result of myaccidental victory over Bias the Bearded, and did not at all appreciatethe kind of greatness my officious friend Claro seemed so determinedto thrust upon me. It was certainly flattering to hear that I hadalready established my reputation as a good fighter in so warlike adepartment as Paysandu, but then the consequences entailed weredisagreeable, to say the least of it; and so, while thanking Eyebrowsfor his friendly hint, I resolved to quit the _estancia_ at once. I would not run away from the authorities, since I was not an evil-doer, but from the necessity of killing people for the sake of peace andquietness I certainly would depart. And early next morning, to myfriend's intense disgust, and without telling my plans to anyone, Imounted my horse and quitted Vagabond's Rest to pursue my adventureselsewhere. 

CHAPTER V

Faith in the _estancia_ as a field for my activities had been weak fromthe first; the Mayordomo's words on his return had extinguished italtogether; and after hearing that ostrich parable I had only remainedfrom motives of pride. I now determined to go back towards Montevideo, not, however, over the route I had come by, but making a wide circuitinto the interior of the country, where I would explore a new field, andperhaps meet with some occupation at one of the _estancias_ on the way. Riding in a south-westerly direction towards the Rio Marlo in theTacuarembó department, I soon left the plains of Paysandù behind me, and, being anxious to get well away from a neighbourhood where I was expectedto kill someone, I did not rest till I had ridden about twenty-fivemiles. At noon I stopped to get some refreshment at a little roadside_pulpería_. It was a wretched-looking place, and behind the iron barsprotecting the interior, giving it the appearance of a wild beast's cage, lounged the storekeeper smoking a cigar. Outside the bar were two menwith English-looking faces. One was a handsome young fellow with asomewhat worn and dissipated look on his bronzed face; he was leaningagainst the counter, cigar in mouth, looking slightly tipsy, I thought, and wore a large revolver slung ostentatiously at his waist. Hiscompanion was a big, heavy man, with immense whiskers sprinkled withgrey, who was evidently very drunk, for he was lying full-length on abench, his face purple and swollen, snoring loudly. I asked for bread, sardines, and wine, and, careful to observe the custom of the country Iwas in, duly invited the tipsy young man to join in the repast. Anomission of this courtesy might, amongst proud and sensitive Orientals, involve one in a sanguinary quarrel, and of quarrelling I had just thenhad enough. 

He declined with thanks, and entered into conversation with me; thenthe discovery, quickly made, that we were compatriots gave us bothgreat pleasure. He at once offered to take me to his house with him, and gave a glowing account of the free, jovial life he led in companywith several other Englishmen--sons of gentlemen, every one of them, he assured me--who had bought a piece of land and settled down tosheep-farming in this lonely district. I gladly accepted the invitation, and when we had finished our glasses he proceeded to wake the sleeper. 

"Hullo, I say, Cap, wake up, old boy, " shouted my new friend. "Quitetime to go home, don't you know. That's right--up you come. Now letme introduce you to Mr. Lamb. I'm sure he's an acquisition. What, offagain! Damn it, old Cloud, that's unreasonable, to say the least ofit. "

At length, after a great deal of shouting and shaking, he succeededin rousing his drunken companion, who staggered up and stared at mein an imbecile manner. 

"Now let me introduce you, " said the other. "Mr. Lamb. My friend, Captain Cloudesley Wriothesley. Bravo! Steady, old cock--now shakehands. "

The Captain said nothing, but took my hand, swaying forwards as ifabout to embrace me. We then with considerable difficulty got him onto his saddle and rode off together, keeping him between us to preventhim from falling off. Half an hour's ride brought us to my host Mr. Vincent Winchcombe's house. I had pictured to myself a charming littlehomestead, buried in cool greenery and flowers, and filled with pleasantmemories of dear old England; I was, therefore, grievously disappointedto find that his "home" was only a mean-looking _rancho, _ with a ditchround it, protecting some ploughed or dug-up ground, on which not onegreen thing appeared. Mr. Winchcombe explained, however, that he had notyet had time to cultivate much. "Only vegetables and such things, don'tyou know, " he said. 

"I don't see them, " I returned. 

"Well, no; we had a lot of caterpillars and blister beetles and things, and they ate everything up, don't you know, " said he. 

The room into which he conducted me contained no furniture except alarge deal table and some chairs; also a cupboard, a long mantelpiece, and some shelves against the walls. On every available place werepipes, pouches, revolvers, cartridge-boxes, and empty bottles. On thetable were tumblers, cups, a sugar-basin, a monstrous tin teapot, anda demijohn, which I soon ascertained was half-full of Brazilian rum, or caña. Round the table five men were seated smoking, drinking teaand rum, and talking excitedly, all of them more or less intoxicated. They gave me a hearty welcome, making me join them at the table, pouringout tea and rum for me, and generously pushing pipes and pouches towardsme. 

"You see, " said Mr. Winchcombe, in explanation of this convivial scene, "there are, altogether, ten of us settlers here going in forsheep-farming and that sort of thing. Four of us have already builthouses and bought sheep and horses. The other six fellows live withus from house to house, don't you know. Well, we've made a jollyarrangement--old Cloud--Captain Cloud, don't you know, first suggestedit--and it is that every day one of the four--the Glorious Four we arecalled--keeps open house; and it's considered the right thing for theother nine fellows to drop in on him some time during the day, justto cheer him up a bit. Well, we soon made the discovery--old Cloud, I fancy, made it--that tea and rum were about the best things to haveon these occasions. To-day it was my day, and to-morrow it will besome other fellow's, don't you know. And, by Jove, how lucky I was tomeet you at the _pulperia!_ It will be ever so much jollier now. "

I had certainly not stumbled upon a charming little English paradisein this Oriental wilderness, and as it always makes me uncomfortableto see young men drifting into intemperate habits and making asses ofthemselves generally, I was not rapturously delighted with "old Cloud's"system. Still, I was glad to find myself with Englishmen in this distantcountry, and in the end I succeeded in making myself tolerably happy. The discovery that I had a voice pleased them greatly, and when, somewhat excited from the effects of strong cavendish, rum, and blacktea, I roared out:

 And may his soul in heaven dwell Who first found out the leather botél, they all got up and drank my health in big tumblers, and declared theywould never let me leave the colony. 

Before evening the guests departed, all except the Captain. He had satwith us at the table, but was too far gone in his cups to take partin the boisterous fun and conversation. Once in about every five minuteshe had implored someone in a husky voice to give him a light for hispipe, then, after two or three ineffectual puffs, he would let it goout again. He had also attempted two or three times to join in thechorus of a song, but soon relapsed again into his imbecile condition. 

Next day, however, when he sat down refreshed by a night's sleep tobreakfast, I found him a very agreeable fellow. He had no house of hisown yet, not having received his money from home, he confidentiallyinformed me, but lived about, breakfasting in one house, dining in asecond, and sleeping in a third. "Never mind, " he would say, "by andby it will be my turn; then I will receive you all every day for sixweeks to make it all square. "

None of the colonists did any work, but all spent their time loungingabout and visiting each other, trying to make their dull existenceendurable by perpetual smoking and tea and rum drinking. They hadtried, they told me, ostrich-hunting, visiting their native neighbours, partridge-shooting, horse-racing, etc. ; but the partridges were tootame for them, they could never catch the ostriches, the natives didn'tunderstand them, and they had finally given up all these so-calledamusements. In each house a peon was kept to take care of the flockand to cook, and as the sheep appeared to take care of themselves, andthe cooking merely meant roasting a piece of meat on a spit, there wasvery little for the hired men to do. 

"Why don't you do these things for yourselves?" I innocently asked. 

"I fancy it wouldn't quite be the right thing, don't you know, " saidMr. Winchcombe. 

"No, " said the Captain gravely, "we haven't quite come down to thatyet. "

I was greatly surprised to hear them. I had seen Englishmen sensiblyroughing it in other places, but the lofty pride of these tenrum-drinking gentlemen was quite a new experience to me. 

Having spent a somewhat listless morning, I was invited to accompanythem to the house of Mr. Bingley, one of the Glorious Four. Mr. Bingleywas really a very nice young fellow, living in a house far more worthyof the name than the slovenly _rancho_ tenanted by his neighbourWinchcombe. He was the favourite of the colonists, having more moneythan the others, and keeping two servants. Always on his reception-dayhe provided his guests with hot bread and fresh butter, as well aswith the indispensable rum-bottle and teapot. It therefore happenedthat, when his turn came round to keep open house, not one of the othernine colonists was absent from his table. 

Soon after our arrival at Bingley's the others began to appear, eachone on entering taking a seat at the hospitable board, and addinganother cloud to the dense volume of tobacco smoke obscuring the room. There was a great deal of hilarious conversation; songs were sung, anda vast amount of tea, rum, bread and butter, and tobacco consumed; butit was a wearisome entertainment, and by the time it was over I feltheartily sick of this kind of life. 

Before separating, after "John Peel" had been sung with greatenthusiasm, someone proposed that we should get up a fox-hunt in realEnglish style. Everyone agreed, glad of anything, I suppose, to breakthe monotony of such an existence, and next day we rode out, followedby about twenty dogs, of various breeds and sizes, brought togetherfrom all the houses. After some searching about in the most likelyplaces, we at length started a fox from a bed of dark-leafed_mio-mio_ bushes. He made straight away for a range of hills aboutthree miles distant, and over a beautifully smooth plain, so that wehad a very good prospect of running him down. Two of the hunters hadprovided themselves with horns, which they blew incessantly, while theothers all shouted at the top of their lungs, so that our chase wasa very noisy one. The fox appeared to understand his danger and toknow that his only chance of escape lay in keeping up his strengthtill the refuge of the hills was reached. Suddenly, however, he changedhis course, this giving us a great advantage, for by making a shortcut we were all soon close at his heels, with only the wide level plainbefore us. But reynard had his reasons for what he did; he had spieda herd of cattle, and in a very few moments had overtaken and mixedwith them. The herd, struck with terror at our shouts and horn-blowing, instantly scattered and flew in all directions, so that we were ablestill to keep our quarry in sight. Far in advance of us the panic inthe cattle ran on from herd to herd, swift as light, and we could seethem miles away fleeing from us, while their hoarse bellowings andthundering tread came borne by the wind faintly to our ears. Our fatlazy dogs ran no faster than our horses, but still they laboured on, cheered by incessant shouts, and at last ran into the first fox everproperly hunted in the Banda Orientál. 

The chase, which had led us far from home, ended close to a large_estancia_ house, and while we stood watching the dogs worrying theirvictim to death, the _capatas_ of the establishment, accompanied by threemen, rode out to inquire who we were, and what we were doing. He was asmall dark native, wearing a very picturesque costume, and addressed uswith extreme politeness. 

"Will you tell me, señores, what strange animal you have captured?"he asked. 

"A fox, " shouted Mr. Bingley, triumphantly waving the brush, which hehad just cut off, over his head. "In our country--in England--we huntthe fox with dogs, and we have been hunting after the manner of ourcountry. "

The _capatas_ smiled, and replied that, if we were disposed to join him, it would afford him great pleasure to show us a hunt after the manner ofthe Banda Orientál. 

We consented gladly, and, mounting our horses, set off at a swinginggallop after the _capatas_ and his men. We soon came to a small herd ofcattle; the _capatas_ dashed after them, and, unloosening the coils ofhis lasso, flung the noose dexterously over the horns of a fat heifer hehad singled out, then started homewards at a tremendous pace. The cow, urged forward by the men, who rode close behind, and pricked it withtheir knives, rushed on, bellowing with rage and pain, trying to overtakethe _capatas_, who kept just out of reach of its horns; and in this waywe quickly reached the house. One of the men now flung his lasso andcaught the beast's hind leg; pulled in two opposite directions, itquickly came to a standstill; the other men, now dismounting, firstham-strung, then ran a long knife into its throat. Without removing thehide, the carcass was immediately cut up, and the choice pieces flung onto a great fire of wood, which one of the men had been making. In anhour's time we all sat down to a feast of _carne con cuero_, or meatroasted in the hide, juicy, tender, and exquisitely flavoured. I musttell the English reader who is accustomed to eat meat and game which hasbeen kept till it is tender, that before the tender stage is reached ithas been permitted to get tough. Meat, game included, is never so tenderor deliciously flavoured as when cooked and eaten immediately after it iskilled. Compared with meat at any subsequent stage, it is like a new-laidegg or a salmon with the cream on, compared with an egg or a salmon aftera week's keeping. 

We enjoyed the repast immensely, though Captain Cloud bitterly lamentedthat we had neither rum nor tea to wash it down. When we had thankedour entertainer and were about to turn our horses' heads homewards, the polite _capatas_ once more stepped out and addressed us. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "whenever you feel disposed to hunt, come to meand we will lasso and roast a heifer in the hide. It is the best dishthe republic has to offer the stranger, and it will give me greatpleasure to entertain you; but I beg you will hunt no more foxes overthe ground belonging to this _estancia, _ for you have caused sogreat a commotion amongst the cattle I am placed here in charge of, that it will take my men two or three days to find them all and bringthem back again. "

We gave the desired promise, plainly perceiving that fox-hunting inthe English fashion is not a sport adapted to the Oriental country. Then we rode back, and spent the remaining hours at the house of Mr. Girling, of the Glorious Four, drinking rum and tea, smoking unlimitedpipes of cavendish, and talking over our hunting experience. 

CHAPTER VI

I spent several days at the colony; and I suppose the life I led therehad a demoralising effect on me, for, unpleasant as it was, every dayI felt less inclined to break loose from it, and sometimes I eventhought seriously of settling down there myself. This crazy idea, however, would usually come to me late in the day, after a great dealof indulgence in rum and tea, a mixture that would very soon drive anyman mad. 

One afternoon, at one of our convivial meetings, it was resolved topay a visit to the little town of Tolosa, about eighteen miles to theeast of the colony. Next day we set out, every man wearing a revolverslung at his waist, and provided with a heavy _poncho_ forcovering; for it was the custom of the colonists to spend the nightat Tolosa when they visited it. We put up at a large public-house inthe centre of the miserable little town, where there was accommodationfor man and beast, the last always faring rather better than the first. I very soon discovered that the chief object of our visit was to varythe entertainment of drinking rum and smoking at the "Colony, " bydrinking rum and smoking at Tolosa. The bibulous battle raged tillbedtime, when the only sober member of our party was myself; for I hadspent the greater part of the afternoon walking about talking to thetownspeople, in the hope of picking up some information useful to mein my search for occupation. But the women and old men I met gave melittle encouragement. They seemed to be a rather listless set in Tolosa, and when I asked them what they were doing to make a livelihood, theysaid they were _waiting. _ My fellow-countrymen and their visitto the town was the principal topic of conversation. They regardedtheir English neighbours as strange and dangerous creatures, who tookno solid food, but subsisted on a mixture of rum and gunpowder (whichwas the truth), and who were armed with deadly engines called revolvers, invented specially for them by their father the devil. The day'sexperience convinced me that the English colony had some excuse foritsexistence, since its periodical visits gave the good people ofTolosa a little wholesome excitement during the stagnant intervalsbetween the revolutions. 

At night we all turned into a large room with a clay floor, in whichthere was not a single article of furniture. Our saddles, rugs, and_ponchos_ had all been thrown together in a corner, and anyone wishingto sleep had to make himself a bed with his own horse-gear and toggeryas best he could. The experience was nothing new to me, so I soon mademyself a comfortable nest on the floor, and, pulling off my boots, coiled myself up like an opossum that knows nothing better and isfriendly with fleas. My friends, however, were evidently bent on makinga night of it, and had taken care to provide themselves with three orfour bottles of rum. After conversation, with an occasional song, hadbeen going on for some time, one of them--a Mr. Chillingworth--roseto his feet and demanded silence. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, advancing into the middle of the room, where, by occasionally throwing out his arms to balance himself, he managedto maintain a tolerably erect position, "I am going to make awhat-d'ye-call-it. "

Furious cheers greeted this announcement, while one of the hearers, carried away with enthusiasm at the prospect of listening to hisfriend's eloquence, discharged his revolver at the roof, scatteringconfusion amongst a legion of long-legged spiders that occupied thedusty cobwebs above our heads. 

I was afraid the whole town would be up in arms at our carryings on, but they assured me that they all fired off their revolvers in thatroom and that nobody came near them, as they were so well known in thetown. 

"Gentlemen, " continued Mr. Chillingworth, when order had been at lengthrestored, "I've been thinking, that's what I've been doing. Now let'sreview the situation. Here we stand, a colony of English gentlemen:here we are, don't you know, far from our homes and country and allthat sort of thing. What says the poet? I daresay some of you fellowsremember the passage. But what for, I ask! What, gentlemen, is theobject of our being here? That's just what I'm going to tell you, don'tyou know. We are here, gentlemen, to infuse a little of our Anglo-Saxonenergy, and all that sort of thing, into this dilapidated old tin-potof a nation. "

Here the orator was encouraged by a burst of applause. 

"Now, gentlemen, " he continued, "isn't it hard--devilish hard, don'tyou know, that so little is made of us? I feel it--I feel it, gentlemen;our lives are being frittered away. I don't know whether you fellowsfeel it. You see, we ain't a melancholy lot. We're a gloriouscombination against the blue devils, that's what we are. Only sometimesI feel, don't you know, that all the rum in the place can't quite killthem. I can't help thinking of jolly days on the other side of thewater. Now, don't you fellows look at me as if you thought I was goingto blubber. I'm not going to make such a confounded ass of myself, don't you know. But what I want you fellows to tell me is this: Arewe to go on all our lives making beasts of ourselves, guzzling rum--I--Ibeg your pardon, gentlemen. I didn't mean to say that, really. Rum isabout the only decent thing in this place. Rum keeps us alive. If anyman says a word against rum, I'll call him an infernal ass. I meantto say the country, gentlemen--this rotten old country, don't you know. No cricket, no society, no Bass, no anything. Supposing we had goneto Canada with our--our capital and energies, wouldn't they havereceived us with open arms? And what's the reception we get here? Now, gentlemen, what I propose is this: let's protest. Let's get up awhat-d'you-call-it to the thing they call a government. We'll stateour case to the thing, gentlemen; and we'll insist on it and be veryfirm; that's what we'll do, don't you know. Are we to live amongstthese miserable monkeys and give them the benefit of our--our--yes, gentlemen, our capital and energies, and get nothing in return? No, no; we must let them know that we are not satisfied, that we will bevery angry with them. That's about all I have to say, gentlemen. "

Loud applause followed, during which the orator sat down rather suddenlyon the floor. Then followed "Rule Britannia, " everyone assisting withall the breath in his lungs to make night hideous. 

When the song was finished the loud snoring of Captain Wriothesleybecame audible. He had begun to spread some rugs to lie on, but, becoming hopelessly entangled in his bridle-reins, surcingle, andstirrup-straps, had fallen to sleep with his feet on his saddle andhis head on the floor. 

"Hallo, we can't have this!" shouted one of the fellows. "Let's wakeold Cloud by firing at the wall over him and knocking some plaster onto his head. It'll be awful fun, you know. "

Everybody was delighted with the proposal, except poor Chillingworth, who, after delivering his speech, had crept away on all fours into acorner, where he was sitting alone and looking very pale and miserable. 

The firing now began, most of the bullets hitting the wall only a fewinches above the recumbent Captain's head, scattering dust and bitsof plaster over his purple face. I jumped up in alarm and rushed amongstthem, telling them in my haste that they were too drunk to hold theirrevolvers properly, and would kill their friend. 

My interference raised a loud, angry remonstrance, in the midst ofwhich the Captain, who was lying in a most uncomfortable position, woke, and, struggling into a sitting posture, stared vacantly at us, his reins and straps wound like serpents about his neck and arms. 

"What's all the row 'bout?" he demanded huskily. "Getting up rev'lution, I s'pose. A'right; only thing to do in this country. Only don't askme to be pres'dent. Nor good enough. Goo' night, boys; don't cut mythroat by mistake. Gor bless you all. "

"No, no, don't go to sleep, Cloud, " they shouted. "Lamb's the causeof all this. He says we're drunk--that's the way Lamb repays ourhospitality. We were firing to wake you up, old Cap, to have a drink--"

"A drink--yes, " assented the Captain hoarsely. 

"And Lamb was afraid we would injure you. Tell him, old Cloud, whetheryou're afraid of your friends. Tell Lamb what you think of his conduct. "

"Yes, I'll tell him, " returned the Captain in his thick tones. "Lambshan't interfere, gentlemen. But you know you took him in, didn't you, now? And what was my opinion of him? It wasn't right of you fellows, was it, now? He couldn't be one of us, you know, could he now? I'llleave it to you, gentlemen; didn't I say the fellow was a cad? Why thedevil doesn't he leave me alone then? I'll tell you what I'll do withLamb, I'll punch his damned nose, don't you know. "

And here the gallant gentleman attempted to rise, but his legs refusedto assist him, and, tumbling back against the wall, he was only ableto glare at me out of his watery eyes. 

I went up to him, intending, I suppose, to punch _his_ nose, but, suddenly changing my mind, I merely picked up my saddle and things, then left the room with a hearty curse on Captain CloudesleyWriothesley, the evil genius, drunk or sober, of the colony of Englishgentlemen. I was no sooner outside the door than the joy they felt atbeing rid of me was expressed in loud shouts, clapping of hands, anda general discharge of firearms into the roof. 

I spread my rugs out of doors and soliloquised myself to sleep. "Andso ends, " said I, fixing my somewhat drowsy eyes on the constellationof Orion, "adventure the second, or twenty-second--little does itmatter about the exact number of them, since they all alike end insmoke--revolver smoke--or a flourish of knives and the shaking of dustfrom off my feet. And, perhaps, at this very moment Paquíta, rousedfrom light slumbers by the droning cry of the night-watchman under herwindow, puts out her arms to feel me, and sighs to find my place stillvacant. What must I say to her? That I must change my name to Ernandesor Fernandes, or Blas or Chas, or Sandariaga, Gorostiaga, Madariaga, or any other 'aga, ' and conspire to overthrow the existing order ofthings. There is nothing else for me to do, since this Oriental worldis indeed an oyster only a sharp sword will serve to open. As for armsand armies and military training, all that is quite unnecessary. Onehas only got to bring together a few ragged, dissatisfied men, and, taking horse, charge pell-mell into poor Mr. Chillingworth's dilapidatedold tin-pot. I almost feel like that unhappy gentleman to-night, readyto blubber. But, after all, my position is not quite so hopeless ashis; I have no brutalised, purple-nosed Briton sitting like a nightmareon my chest, pressing the life out of me. "

The shouts and choruses of the revellers grew fainter and fewer, andhad almost ceased when I sank to sleep, lulled by a solitary tipsyvoice droning out in a lugubrious key:

 We won't go--home till morning. 

CHAPTER VII

Early next morning I left Tolosa and travelled the whole day in asouth-westerly direction. I did not hurry, but frequently dismountedto give my horse a sip of clear water and a taste of green herbage. I also called during the day at three or four _estancia_ houses, but failed to hear anything that could be advantageous to me. In thisway I covered about thirty-five miles of road, going always towardsthe eastern part of the Florida district in the heart of the country. About an hour before sunset I resolved to go no farther that day; andI could not have hoped to find a nicer resting-place than the one nowbefore me--a neat _rancho_ with a wide corridor supported bywooden pillars, standing amidst a bower of fine old weeping-willows. It was a calm, sunshiny afternoon, peace and quiet resting oneverything, even bird and insect, for they were silent, or utteredonly soft, subdued notes; and that modest lodge, with its rough stonewalls and thatched roof, seemed to be in harmony with it all. It lookedlike the home of simple-minded, pastoral people that had for theironly world the grassy wilderness, watered by many clear streams, boundedever by that far-off, unbroken ring of the horizon, and arched overwith blue heaven, starry by night and filled by day with sweet sunshine. 

On approaching the house I was agreeably disappointed at having nopack of loud-mouthed, ferocious dogs rushing forth to rend thepresumptuous stranger to pieces, a thing one always expects. The onlysigns of life visible were a white-haired old man seated within thecorridor smoking, and a few yards from it a young girl standing undera willow-tree. But that girl was a picture for one to gaze long uponand carry about in his memory for a lifetime. Never had I beheldanything so exquisitely beautiful. It was not that kind of beauty socommon in these countries, which bursts upon you like the suddensouth-west wind called _pampero_, almost knocking the breath outof your body, then passing as suddenly away, leaving you with hairruffled up and mouth full of dust. Its influence was more like thatof the spring wind, which blows softly, scarcely fanning your cheek, yet infusing through all your system a delicious, magical sensationlike--like nothing else in earth or heaven. She was, I fancy, aboutfourteen years old, slender and graceful in figure, and with amarvellously clear white skin, on which this bright Oriental sun hadnot painted one freckle. Her features were, I think, the most perfectI have ever seen in any human being, and her golden brown hair hungin two heavy braids behind, almost to her knees. As I approached, shelooked up to me out of sweet, grey-blue eyes; there was a bashful smileon her lips, but she did not move or speak. On the willow-branch overher head were two young doves; they were, it appeared, her pets, unableyet to fly, and she had placed them there. The little things had creptup just beyond her reach, and she was trying to get them by pullingthe branch down towards her. 

Leaving my horse, I came to her side. 

"I am tall, señorita, " I said, "and can perhaps reach them. "

She watched me with anxious interest while I gently pulled her birdsfrom their perch and transferred them to her hands. Then she kissedthem, well-pleased, and with a gentle hesitation in her manner askedme in. 

Under the corridor I made the acquaintance of her grandfather, thewhite-haired old man, and found him a person it was very easy to geton with, for he agreed readily with everything I said. Indeed, evenbefore I could get a remark out he began eagerly assenting to it. There, too, I met the girl's mother, who was not at all like herbeautiful daughter, but had black hair and eyes, and a brown skin, asmost Spanish-American women have. Evidently the father is thewhite-skinned, golden-haired one, I thought. When the girl's brothercame in, by and by, he unsaddled my horse and led him away to pasture;this boy was also dark, darker even than his mother. 

The simple spontaneous kindness with which these people treated me hada flavour about it the like of which I have seldom experiencedelsewhere. It was not the common hospitality usually shown to astranger, but a natural, unstrained kindness, such as they might beexpected to show to a beloved brother or son who had gone out fromthem in the morning and was now returned. 

By and by the girl's father came in, and I was extremely surprised tofind him a small, wrinkled, dark specimen, with jet-black, bead-likeeyes and podgy nose, showing plainly enough that he had more than adash of aboriginal Charrua blood in his veins. This upset my theoryabout the girl's fair skin and blue eyes; the little dark man was, however, quite as sweet-tempered as the others, for he came in, satdown, and joined in the conversation, just as if I had been one of thefamily whom he had expected to find there. While I talked to thesegood people on simple pastoral matters, all the wickedness ofOrientals--the throat-cutting war of Whites and Reds, and theunspeakable cruelties of the ten years' siege--were quite forgotten. I wished that I had been born amongst them and was one of them, nota weary, wandering Englishman, overburdened with the arms and armourof civilisation, and staggering along, like Atlas, with the weight ofa kingdom on which the sun never sets on his shoulders. 

By and by this good man, whose real name I never discovered, for hiswife simply called him Batata (sweet potato), looking critically athis pretty girl, remarked: "Why have you decked yourself out like this, my daughter--it is not a Saint's day?"

His daughter indeed! I mentally ejaculated; she is more like thedaughter of the evening star than of such a man. But his words wereunreasonable, to say the least of it; for the sweet child, whose namewas Margarita, though wearing shoes, had no stockings on, while herdress--very clean, certainly--was a cotton print so faded that thepattern was quite undistinguishable. The only pretence of finery ofany description was a narrow bit of blue ribbon tied about herlily-white neck. And yet, had she been wearing richest silks andcostliest gems, she could not have blushed and smiled with a prettierconfusion. 

"We are expecting Uncle Anselmo this evening, _papita_, " she replied. 

"Leave the child, Batata, " said the mother. "You know what a craze shehas for Anselmo: when he comes she is always prepared to receive himlike a queen. "

This was really almost too much for me, and I was powerfully temptedto jump up and embrace the whole family on the spot. How sweet wasthis primitive simplicity of mind! Here, doubtless, was the one spoton the wide earth where the golden age still lingered, appearing likethe last beams of the setting sun touching some prominent spot, whenelsewhere all things are in shadow. Ah, why had fate led me into thissweet Arcadia, since I must presently leave it to go back to the dullworld of toil and strife. 

 That vain low strife Which makes men mad, the tug for wealth and power, The passions and the cares that wither life And waste its little hour?

Had it not been for the thought of Paquíta waiting for me over therein Montevideo, I could have said, "O good friend Sweet Potato, and goodfriends all, let me remain for ever with you under this roof, sharing your simple pleasures, and, wishing for nothing better, forgetthat great crowded world where all men are striving to conquer Natureand death and to win fortune; until, having wasted their miserablelives in their vain endeavours, they drop down and the earth isshovelled over them!"

Shortly after sunset the expected Anselmo arrived to spend the nightwith his relations, and scarcely had he got down from his horse beforeMargarita was at his side to ask the avuncular blessing, at the sametime raising his hand to her delicate lips. He gave his blessing, touching her golden hair; then she lifted her face bright with newhappiness. 

Anselmo was a fine specimen of the Oriental gaucho, dark and with goodfeatures, his hair and moustache intensely black. He wore costlyclothes, while his whip-handle, the sheath of his long knife, and otherthings about him were of massive silver. Of silver also were his heavyspurs, the pommel of his saddle, his stirrups, and the headstall ofhis bridle. He was a great talker; never, in fact, in the whole courseof my varied experience have I encountered anyone who could pour outsuch an incessant stream of talk about small matters as this man. Weall sat together in the social kitchen, sipping _maté_; I takinglittle part in the conversation, which was all about horses, scarcelyeven listening to what the others were saying. Reclining against thewall, I occupied myself agreeably watching the sweet face of Margarita, which in her happy excitement had become suffused with a delicate rosycolour. I have always had a great love for the beautiful: sunsets, wild flowers, especially verbenas, so prettily called margaritas inthis country; and beyond everything the rainbow spanning the vastgloomy heavens, with its green and violet arch, when the storm-cloudpasses eastward over the wet sun-flushed earth. All these things havea singular fascination for my soul. But beauty when it presents itselfin the human form is even more than these things. There is in it amagnetic power drawing my heart; a something that is not love, for howcan a married man have a feeling like that towards anyone except hiswife? No, it is not love, but a sacred ethereal kind of affection, resembling love only as the fragrance of violets resembles the tasteof honey and the honey-comb. 

At length, some time after supper, Margarita, to my sorrow, rose toretire, though not without first once more asking her uncle's blessing. After her departure from the kitchen, finding that the inexhaustibletalking-machine Anselmo was still holding forth fresh as ever, I lita cigar and prepared to listen. 

CHAPTER VIII

When I began to listen, it was a surprise to find that the subject ofconversation was no longer the favourite one of horse-flesh, which hadheld undisputed sway the whole evening. Uncle Anselmo was just nowexpatiating on the merits of gin, a beverage for which he confessedto a special liking. 

"Gin is, without doubt, " said he, "the flower of all strong drinks. I have always maintained that it is incomparable. And for this reasonI always keep a little of it in the house in a stone bottle; for, whenI have taken my _maté_ in the morning, and, after it, one or twoor three or four sips of gin, I saddle my horse and go out with atranquil stomach, feeling at peace with the whole world. 

"Well, sirs, it happened that on the morning in question, I noticedthat there was very little gin left in the bottle; for, though I couldnot see how much it contained, owing to its being of stone and not ofglass, I judged from the manner in which I had to tip it upwards whenpouring it out. In order to remember that I had to bring home somewith me that day I tied a knot in my handkerchief; then, mounting myhorse, I rode out towards the side on which the sun sets, littleexpecting that anything unusual was going to happen to me that day. But thus it often is; for no man, however learned he may be and ableto read the almanac, can tell what a day will bring forth. "

Anselmo was so outrageously prosy, I felt strongly inclined to go tobed to dream of beautiful Margarita; but politeness forbade, and I wasalso somewhat curious to hear what extraordinary thing had happenedto him on that very eventful day. 

"It fortunately happened, " continued Anselmo, "that I had that morningsaddled the best of my cream-noses; for on that horse I could saywithout fear of contradiction, I am on horseback and not on foot. Icalled him Chingolo, a name which Manuel, also called the Fox, gavehim, because he was a young horse of promise, able to fly with hisrider. Manuel had nine horses--cream-noses every one--and how frombeing Manuel's they came to be mine I will tell you. He, poor man, hadjust lost all his money at cards--perhaps the money he lost was notmuch, but how he came to have any was a mystery to many. To me, however, it was no mystery, and when my cattle were slaughtered and had theirhides stripped off by night, perhaps I could have gone toJustice--feeling like a blind man for something in the wrong place--andled her in the direction of the offender's house; but when one has itin his power to speak, knowing at the same time that his words willfall like a thunderbolt out of a blue sky upon a neighbour's dwelling, consuming it to ashes and killing all within it, why, sirs, in sucha case the good Christian prefers to hold his peace. For what has oneman more than another that he should put himself in the place ofProvidence? We are all of flesh. True, some of us are only dog's flesh, fit for nothing; but to all of us the lash is painful, and where itrains blood will sprout. This, I say; but, remember, I say not thatManuel the Fox robbed me--for I would sully no man's reputation, evena robber's, or have anyone suffer on my account. 

"Well, sirs, to go back to what I was saying, Manuel lost everything;then his wife fell ill with fever; and what was there left for him butto turn his horses into money? In this way it came about that I boughtthe cream-noses and paid him fifty dollars for them. True, the horseswere young and sound; nevertheless, it was a great price, and I paidit not without first weighing the matter well in my own mind. For inthings of this nature if a person makes not his reckoning beforehand, where, let me ask, sirs, will he find himself at the year's end? Thedevil will take him with all the cattle he inherited from his fathers, or got together by his own proper abilities and industry. 

"For you see the thing is this. I have a poor head for figures; allother kinds of knowledge come easy to me, but how to calculate readilyhas never yet found an entrance into my head. At the same time, wheneverI find it impossible to make out my accounts, or settle what to do, I have only to take the matter to bed with me and lie awake thinkingit over. For when I do that, I rise next morning feeling free andrefreshed, like a man that has just eaten a water-melon; for what Ihave to do and how it is to be done is all as plain to my sight asthis _maté_-cup I hold in my hand. 

"In this difficulty I therefore resolved to take the subject of thehorses to bed with me, and to say, 'Here I have you and you shall notescape from me. ' But about supper-time Manuel came in to molest me, and sat in the kitchen with a sad face, like a prisoner under sentenceof death. 

"'If Providence is angry against the entire human race, ' said he, 'andis anxious to make an example, I know not for what reason so harmlessand obscure a person as I am should have been selected. '

"'What would you have, Manuel?' I replied. 'Wise men tell us thatProvidence sends us misfortunes for our good. '

"'True, I agree with you, ' he said. 'It is not for me to doubt it, forwhat can be said of that soldier who finds fault with the measures ofhis commander? But you know, Anselmo, the man I am, and it is bitterthat these troubles should fall on one who has never offended exceptin being always poor. '

"The vulture, ' said I, 'ever preys on the weak and ailing. '

"'First I lose everything, ' he continued, 'then this woman must fallill of a calenture; and now I am forced to believe that even my creditis gone, since I cannot borrow the money I require. Those who knew mebest have suddenly become strangers. '

"'When a man is down, ' said I, 'the very dogs will scratch up the dustagainst him. '

"'True, ' said Manuel; 'and since these calamities fell on me, what hasbecome of the friendships that were so many? For nothing has a worsesmell, or stinks more, than poverty, so that all men when they beholdit cover up their faces or fly from such a pestilence. '

"'You speak the truth, Manuel, ' I returned; 'but say not all men, forwho knows--there being so many souls in the world--whether you may notbe doing injustice to someone. '

"'I say it not of you, ' he replied, 'On the contrary, if any personhas had compassion on me it is you; and this I say, not in your presenceonly, but publicly proclaim it to all men. '

"Words only were these. 'And now, ' he continued 'my cards oblige meto part with my horses for money; therefore I come this evening tolearn your decision. '

"'Manuel, ' said I, 'I am a man of few words, as you know, andstraightforward, therefore you need not have used compliments, andbefore saying this to have said so many things; for in this you do nottreat me as a friend. '

"'You say well, ' he replied; 'but I love not to dismount before checkingmy horse and taking my toes from the stirrups. '

"'That is only as it should be, ' said I; 'nevertheless, when you cometo a friend's house, you need not alight at such a distance from thegate. '

"'For what you say, I thank you, ' he answered. 'My faults are morenumerous than the spots on the wild cat, but not amongst them isprecipitancy. '

"'That is what I like, ' said I; 'for I do not love to go about likea drunk man embracing strangers. But our acquaintance is not ofyesterday, for we have looked into and know each other, even to thebowels and to the marrow in the bones. Why, then, should we meet asstrangers, since we have never had a difference, or any occasion tospeak ill of each other?'

"'And how should we speak ill, ' replied Manuel, 'since it has neverentered into either of us, even in a dream, to do the other an injury?Some there are, who, loving me badly, would blow up your head like abladder with lies if they could, laying I know not what things to mycharge, when--heaven knows--they themselves are perhaps the authorsof all they so readily blame me for. '

"'If you speak, ' said I, 'of the cattle I have lost, trouble notyourself about such trifles; for if those who speak evil of you, onlybecause they themselves are evil, were listening, they might say, Thisman begins to defend himself when no one has so much as thought ofdrawing against him. '

"'True, there is nothing they will not say of me, ' said Manuel;'therefore I am dumb, for nothing is to be gained by speaking. Theyhave already judged me, and no man wishes to be made a liar. '

"'As for me, ' I said, 'I never doubted you, knowing you to be a man, honest, sober, and diligent. If in anything you had given offence Ishould have told you of it, so great is my frankness towards all men. '

"'All that you tell me I firmly believe, ' said he, 'for I know thatyou are not one that wears a mask like others. Therefore, relying onyour great openness in all things, I come to you about these horses;for I love not dealing with those who shake you out a whole bushel ofchaff for every grain of corn. '

"'But, Manuel, ' said I, 'you know that I am not made of gold, and thatthe mines of Peru were not left to me for an inheritance. You ask ahigh price for your horses. '

"'I do not deny it, ' he replied. 'But you are not one to stop yourears against reason and poverty when they speak. My horses are my onlywealth and happiness, and I have no glory but them. '

"'Frankly, then, ' I answered, 'to-morrow I will tell you yes or no. '

"'Let it be as you say; but, friend, if you will close with me tonightI will abate something from the price. '

"'If you wish to abate anything, ' said I, 'let it be to-morrow, forI have accounts to make up to-night and a thousand things to think of. '

"After that Manuel got on to his horse and rode away. It was black andrainy, but he had never needed moon or lantern to find what he soughtby night, whether his own house, or a fat cow--also his own, perhaps. 

"Then I went to bed. The first question I asked myself, when I hadblown out the candle, was, Are there fat wethers enough in my flockto pay for the cream-noses? Then I asked, How many fat wethers willit take at the price Don Sebastian--a miserly cheat be it said inpassing--offers me a head for them to make up the amount I require?

"That was the question; but, you see, friends, I could not answer it. At length, about midnight, I resolved to light the candle and get anear of maize; for by putting the grains into small heaps, each heapthe price of a wether, then counting the whole, I could get to knowwhat I wanted. 

"The idea was good. I was feeling under my pillow for the matches tostrike a light when I suddenly remembered that all the grain had beengiven to the poultry. No matter, said I to myself, I have been sparedthe trouble of getting out of bed for nothing. Why, it was onlyyesterday, said I, still thinking about the maize, that Pascuala, thecook, said to me when she put my dinner before me, 'Master, when areyou going to buy some grain for the fowls? How can you expect the soupto be good when there is not even an egg to put in it? Then there isthe black cock with the twisted toe--one of the second brood the spottedhen raised last summer, though the foxes carried off no less than threehens from the very bushes where she was sitting--he has been goinground with drooping wings all day, so that I verily believe he is goingto have the pip. And if any epidemic comes amongst the fowls as therewas in neighbour Gumesinda's the year before last, you may be sure itwill only be for want of corn. And the strangest thing is, and it isquite true, though you may doubt it, for neighbour Gumesinda told meonly yesterday when she came to ask me for some parsley, because, asyou know very well, her own was all rooted up when the pigs broke intoher garden last October; well, sir, she says the epidemic which sweptoff twenty-seven of her best fowls in one week began by a black cockwith a broken toe, just like ours, beginning to droop its wings as ifit had the pip. '

"'May all the demons take this woman!' I cried, throwing down the spoonI had been using, 'with her chatter about eggs and pip and neighbourGumesinda, and I know not what besides! Do you think I have nothingto do but to gallop about the country looking for maize, when it isnot to be had for its weight in gold at this season, and all becausea sickly spotted hen is likely to have the pip?'

"'I have said no such thing, ' retorted Pascuala, raising her voice aswomen do. 'Either you are not paying proper attention to what I amtelling you, or you pretend not to understand me. For I never said thespotted hen was likely to have the pip; and if she is the fattest fowlin all this neighbourhood you may thank me, after the Virgin, for it, as neighbour Gumesinda often says, for I never fail to give her choppedmeat three times a day; and that is why she is never out of the kitchen, so that even the cats are afraid to come into the house, for she flieslike a fury into their faces. But you are always laying hold of mywords by the heels; and if I said anything at all about pip, it wasnot the spotted hen, but the black cock with the twisted toe, I saidwas likely to have it. '

"'To the devil with your cock and your hen!' I shouted, rising in hastefrom my chair, for my patience was all gone and the woman was drivingme crazy with her story of a twisted toe and what neighbour Gumesindasaid. 'And may all the curses fall on that same woman, who is alwaysfull as a gazette of her neighbours' affairs! I know well what theparsley is she comes to gather in my garden. It is not enough that shegoes about the country giving importance to the couplets I sang toMontenegro's daughter, when I danced with her at Cousin Teodoro's danceafter the cattle-marking, when, heaven knows, I never cared the blueend of a finger-nail for that girl. But things have now come to apretty pass when even a chicken with a broken toe cannot be indisposedin my house without neighbour Gumesinda thrusting her beak into thematter!'

"Such anger did I feel at Pascuala when I remembered these things andother things besides, for there is no end to that woman's tongue, thatI could have thrown the dish of meat at her head. 

"Just then, while occupied with these thoughts, I fell asleep. Nextmorning I got up, and without beating my head any more I bought thehorses and paid Manuel his price. For there is in me this excellentgift, when I am puzzled in mind and in doubt about anything, nightmakes everything plain to me, and I rise refreshed and with mydetermination formed. "

Here ended Anselmo's story, without one word about those marvellousmatters he had set out to tell. They had all been clean forgotten. Hebegan to make a cigarette, and, fearing that he was about to launchforth on some fresh subject, I hastily bade good night and retreatedto my bed. 

CHAPTER IX

Early next morning Anselmo took his departure, but I was up in timeto say good-bye to the worthy spinner of interminable yarns leadingto nothing. I was, in fact, engaged in performing my morning ablutionsin a large wooden bucket under the willows when he placed himself inthe saddle; then, after carefully arranging the drapery of hispicturesque garments, he trotted gently away, the picture of a manwith a tranquil stomach and at peace with the whole world, evenneighbour Gumesinda included. 

I had spent a somewhat restless night, strange to say, for my hospitablehostess had provided me with a deliciously soft bed, a very unusualluxury in the Banda Orientál, and when I plunged into it there wereno hungry bedfellows waiting my advent within its mysterious folds. I thought about the pastoral simplicity of the lives and character ofthe good people slumbering near me; and that inconsequent story ofAnselmo's about Manuel and Pascuala caused me to laugh several times. Finally my thoughts, which had been roaming around in a wild, uncertainmanner, like rooks "blown about the windy skies, " settled quietly downto the consideration of that beautiful anomaly, that mystery ofmysteries, the white-faced Margarita. For how, in the name of heredity, had she got there? Whence that pearly skin and lithesome form; theproud, sweet mouth, the nose that Phidias might have taken for a model;the clear, spiritual, sapphire eyes, and the wealth of silky hair, that if unbound would cover her as with a garment of surpassing beauty?With such a problem vexing my curious brain, what sleep could aphilosopher get?

When Batata saw me making preparations for departure, he warmly pressedme to stay to breakfast. I consented at once, for, after all, the moreleisurely one does a thing the sooner will it be accomplished--especiallyin the Banda Orientál. One breakfasts here at noon, so that I had plentyof time to see, and renew my pleasure in seeing, pretty Margarita. 

In the course of the morning we had a visitor; a traveller who arrivedon a tired horse, and who slightly knew my host Batata, having, I wastold, called at the house on former occasions. Marcos Marcó was hisname; a tall, sallow-faced individual about fifty years old, slightlygrey, very dirty, and wearing threadbare gaucho garments. He had aslouching gait and manner, and a patient, waiting, hungry animalexpression of face. Very, very keen were his eyes, and I detected himseveral times watching me narrowly. 

Leaving this Oriental tramp in conversation with Batata, who withmisplaced kindness had offered to provide him with a fresh horse, Iwent out for a walk before breakfast. During my walk, which was alonga tiny stream at the foot of the hill on which the house stood, I founda very lovely bell-shaped flower of a delicate rose-colour. I pluckedit carefully and took it back with me, thinking it just possible thatI might give it to Margarita should she happen to be in the way. Onmy return to the house I found the traveller sitting by himself underthe corridor, engaged in mending some portion of his dilapidatedhorse-gear, and sat down to have a chat with him. A clever bee willalways be able to extract honey enough to reward him from any flower, and so I did not hesitate tackling this outwardly very unpromisingsubject. 

"And so you are an Englishman, " he remarked, after we had had someconversation; and I, of course, replied in the affirmative. 

"What a strange thing!" he said. "And you are fond of gathering prettyflowers?" he continued, with a glance at my treasure. 

"All flowers are pretty, " I replied. 

"But surely, señor, some are prettier than others. Perhaps you haveobserved a particularly pretty one growing in these parts--the whitemargarita?"

Margarita is the Oriental vernacular for verbena; the fragrant whitevariety is quite common in the country; so that I was justified inignoring the fellow's rather impudent meaning. Assuming as wooden anexpression as I could, I replied, "Yes, I have often observed theflower you speak of; it is fragrant, and to my mind surpasses in beautythe scarlet and purple varieties. But you must know, my friend, thatI am a botanist--that is, a student of plants--and they are all equallyinteresting to me. "

This astonished him; and, pleased with the interest he appeared totake in the subject, I explained, in simple language, the principleson which a classification of plants is founded, telling him about that_lingua franca_ by means of which all the botanists in the worldof all nations are able to converse together about plants. From thissomewhat dry subject I launched into the more fascinating one of thephysiology of plants. "Now, look at this, " I continued, and with mypenknife I carefully dissected the flower in my hand, for it was evidentthat I could not now give it to Margarita without exposing myself toremarks. I then proceeded to explain to him the beautiful complexstructure by means of which this campanula fertilises itself. 

He listened in wonder, exhausting all the Spanish and Orientalequivalents of such expressions as "Dear me!" "How extraordinary!""Lawks a mussy!" "You don't say so!" I finished my lecture, satisfiedthat my superior intellect had baffled the rude creature; then, tossingaway the fragments of the flower I had sacrificed, I restored thepenknife to my pocket. 

"These are matters we do not often hear about in the Banda Orientál, "he said. "But the English know everything--even the secrets of a flower. They are also able to do most things. Did you ever, sir botanist, takepart in acting a comedy?"

After all, I had wasted my flower and scientific knowledge on theanimal for nothing! "Yes, I have!" I replied rather angrily; then, suddenly remembering Eyebrows' teaching, I added, "and in tragedyalso. "

"Is that so?" he exclaimed. "How amused the spectators must have been!Well, we can all have our fill of fighting presently, for I see the_White Flower_ coming this way to tell us that breakfast is ready. Batata's roast beef will give something for our knives to do; I onlywish we had one of his own floury namesakes to eat with it. "

I swallowed my resentment, and when Margarita came to us, looked upinto her matchless face with a smile, then rose to follow her into thekitchen. 

CHAPTER X

After breakfast I bade a reluctant good-bye to my kind entertainers, took a last longing, lingering look at lovely Margarita, and mountedmy horse. Scarcely was I in the saddle before Marcos Marcó, who wasalso about to resume his journey on the fresh horse he had borrowed, remarked:

"You are travelling to Montevideo, good friend; I am also going inthat direction, and will take you the shortest way. "

"The road will show me the way, " I rejoined curtly. 

"The road, " he said, "is like a lawsuit; round-about, full of puddlesand pitfalls, and long to travel. It is only meant to be used by oldhalf-blind men and drivers of bullock-carts. "

I hesitated about accepting the guidance of this strange fellow, whoappeared to have a ready wit under his heavy-slouching exterior. Themixed contempt and humility in his speech every time he addressed megave me an uncomfortable sensation; then his poverty-stricken appearanceand his furtive glances filled me with suspicion. I looked at my host, who was standing near, thinking to take my cue from the expression ofhis face; but it was only a stolid Oriental face that revealed nothing. An ancient rule in whist is to play trumps when in doubt; now my ruleof action is, when two courses are open to me and I am in doubt, totake the bolder one. Acting on this principle, I determined to go withMarcos, and accordingly we rode forth together. 

My guide soon struck away across-country, leading me wide of the publicroad, through such lonely places that I at length began to suspect himof some sinister design against my person, since I had no propertyworth taking. Presently he surprised me by saying: "You were right, my young friend, in casting away idle fears when you accepted mycompany. Why do you let them return to trouble your peace? Men of yourblood have never inflicted injuries on me that cry out for vengeance. Can I make myself young again by shedding your life, or would therebe any profit in changing these rags I now wear for your garments, which are also dusty and frayed? No, no, sir Englishman, this dressof patience and suffering and exile, my covering by day and my bed bynight, must soon be changed for brighter garments than you are wearing. "

This speech relieved me sensibly, and I smiled at the poor devil'sambitious dream of wearing a soldier's greasy red jacket; for I supposedthat that was what his words meant. Still, his "shortest way" toMontevideo continued to puzzle me considerably. For two or three hourswe had been riding nearly parallel to a range of hills, or _cuchilla, _extending away on our left hand towards the south-east. But we weregradually drawing nearer to it, and apparently going purposely out of ourway only to traverse a most lonely and difficult country. The few_estancia_ houses we passed, perched on the highest points of the greatsweep of moor-like country on our right, appeared to be very far away. Where we rode there were no habitations, not even a shepherd's hovel; thedry, stony soil was thinly covered with a forest of dwarf thorn-trees, and a scanty pasturage burnt to a rust-brown colour by the summer heats;and out of this arid region rose the hills, their brown, woodless sideslooking strangely gaunt and desolate in the fierce noonday sun. 

Pointing to the open country on our right, where the blue gleam of ariver was visible, I said: "My friend, I assure you, I fear nothing, but I cannot understand why you keep near these hills when the valleyover there would have been pleasanter for ourselves, and easier forour horses. "

"I do nothing without a reason, " he said, with a strange smile. "Thewater you see over there is the Rio de las Canas [River of Grey Hairs], and those who go down into its valley grow old before their time. "

Occasionally talking, but oftener silent, we jogged on till about threeo'clock in the afternoon, when suddenly, as we were skirting a patchof scraggy woodland, a troop of six armed men emerged from it, and, wheeling about, came directly towards us. A glance was enough to tellus that they were soldiers or mounted policemen, scouring the countryin search of recruits, or, in other words, of deserters, skulkingcriminals, and vagabonds of all descriptions. I had nothing to fearfrom them, but an exclamation of rage escaped my companion's lips, and, turning to him, I perceived that his face was of the whitenessof ashes. I laughed, for revenge is sweet, and I still smarted a littleat his contemptuous treatment of me earlier in the day. 

"Is your fear so great?" I said. 

"You do not know what you say, boy!" he returned fiercely. "When youhave passed through as much hell-fire as I have and have rested assweetly with a corpse for a pillow, you will learn to curb yourimpertinent tongue when you address a man. "

An angry retort was on my lips, but a glance at his face prevented mefrom uttering it--it was, in its expression, the face of a wild animalworried by dogs. 

In another moment the men had cantered up to us, and one, theircommander, addressing me, asked to see my passport. 

"I carry no passport, " I replied. "My nationality is a sufficientprotection, for I am an Englishman as you can see. "

"We have only your word for that, " said the man. "There is an Englishconsul in the capital, who provides English subjects with passportsfor their protection, in this country. If you have not got one youmust suffer for it, and no one but yourself is to blame. I see in youonly a young man complete in all his members, and of such the republicis in need. Your speech is also like that of one who came into theworld under this sky. You must go with us. "

"I shall do nothing of the sort, " I returned. 

"Do not say such a thing, master, " said Marcos, astonishing me verymuch with the change in his tone and manner. "You know I warned youa month ago that it was imprudent to leave Montevideo without ourpassports. This officer is only obeying the orders he has received;still, he might see that we are only what we represent ourselves tobe. "

"Oh!" exclaimed the officer, turning to Marcos, "you are also anEnglishman unprovided with a passport, I suppose? You might at leasthave supplied yourself with a couple of blue crockery eyes and a yellowbeard for your greater safety. "

"I am only a poor son of the soil, " said Marcos meekly. "This youngEnglishman is looking for an _estancia_ to buy, and I came as hisattendant from the capital. We were very careless not to get ourpassports before starting. "

"Then, of course, this young man has plenty of money in his pocket?"said the officer. 

I did not relish the lies Marcos had taken upon himself to tell aboutme, but did not quite know what the consequences of contradicting themmight be. I therefore replied that I was not so foolish as to travelin a country like the Banda Orientál with money on my person. "To payfor bread and cheese till I reach my destination is about as much asI have, " I added. 

"The government of this country is a generous one, " said the officersarcastically, "and will pay for all the bread and cheese you willrequire. It will also provide you with beef. You must now come withme to the Juzgado de las Cuevas, both of you. "

Seeing no help for it, we accompanied our captors at a swinging gallopover a rough, undulating country, and in about an hour and a halfreached Las Cuevas, a dirty, miserable-looking village, composed ofa few _ranchos_ built round a large plaza overgrown with weeds. On one side stood the church, on the other a square stone buildingwith a flagstaff before it. This was the official building of the Juezde Paz, or rural magistrate; just now, however, it was closed, andwith no sign of life about it except an old dead-and-alive-looking mansitting against the closed door, with his bare, mahogany-coloured legsstretched out in the hot sunshine. 

"This is a very fine thing!" exclaimed the officer, with a curse. "Ifeel very much inclined to let the men go. "

"You will lose nothing by doing so, except, perhaps, a headache, " saidMarcos. 

"Hold your tongue till your advice is asked!" retorted the officer, thoroughly out of temper. 

"Lock them up in the _calaboso_ till the Juez comes to-morrow, Lieutenant, " suggested the old man by the door, speaking through abushy white beard and a cloud of tobacco-smoke. 

"Do you not know that the door is broken, old fool?" said the officer. "Lock them up! Here I am neglecting my own affairs to serve the State, and this is how I am treated. We must now take them to the Juez at hisown house and let him look after them. Come on, boys. "

We were then conducted out of Las Cuevas to a distance of about twomiles, where the Señor Juez resided in the bosom of his family. Hisprivate residence was a very dirty, neglected-looking _estancia_house, with a great many dogs, fowls, and children about. We dismounted, and were immediately taken into a large room, where the magistrate satat a table on which lay a great number of papers--goodness knows whatthey were about. The Juez was a little hatchet-faced man, with bristlygrey whiskers, standing out like a cat's moustache, and angry eyes--or, rather with one angry eye, for over the other a cotton handkerchiefwas tied. No sooner had we all entered than a hen, leading a brood ofa dozen half-grown chickens, rushed into the room after us, the chickensinstantly distributing themselves about the floor in quest of crumbs, while the mother, more ambitious, flew on the table, scattering thepapers right and left with the wind she created. 

"A thousand demons take the fowls!" cried the Juez, starting up in afury. "Man, go and bring your mistress here this instant. I commandher to come. "

This order was obeyed by the person who had ushered us in, agreasy-looking, swarthy-faced individual, in threadbare militaryclothes; and in two or three minutes he returned, followed by a veryfat, slatternly woman, looking very good-tempered, however, whoimmediately subsided, quite exhausted, into a chair. 

"What is it, Fernando?" she panted. 

"What is it? How can you have the courage to ask such a question, Toribia? Look at the confusion your pestilent fowls are creating amongstmy papers--papers that concern the safety of the republic! Woman, whatmeasures are you going to take to stop this before I have your fowlsall killed on the spot?"

"What can I do, Fernando?--they are hungry, I suppose. I thought youwanted to ask my advice about these prisoners--poor fellows! and hereyou are with your hens. "

Her placid manner acted like oil on the fire of his wrath. He stormedabout the room, kicking over chairs, and hurling rulers andpaper-weights at the birds, apparently with the most deadly intentions, but with shockingly bad aim--shouting, shaking his fist at his wife, and even threatening to commit her for contempt of court when shelaughed. At last, after a great deal of trouble, the fowls were allgot out, and the servant placed to guard the door, with strict ordersto decapitate the first chicken that should attempt to enter and disturbthe proceedings. 

Order being restored, the Juez lit a cigarette and began to smooth hisruffled feathers. "Proceed, " he said to the officer, from his seat atthe table. 

"Sir, " said the officer, "in pursuance of my duty I have taken incharge these two strangers, who are unprovided with passports ordocuments of any description to corroborate their statements. Accordingto their story, the young man is an English millionaire going aboutthe country buying up estates, while the other man is his servant. There are twenty-five reasons for disbelieving their story, but I havenot sufficient time to impart them to you now. Having found the doorsof the Juzgado closed, I have brought these men here with greatinconvenience to myself; and I am now only waiting to have this businessdespatched without further delay, so that I may have a little timeleft to devote to my private affairs. "

"Address not me in this imperative manner, sir officer!" exclaimed theJuez, his anger blazing out afresh. "Do you imagine, sir, that I haveno private interests; that the State feeds and clothes my wife andchildren? No, sir, I am the servant of the republic, not the slave;and I beg to remind you that official business must be transactedduring the proper hours and at the proper place. "

"Sir Juez, " said the officer, "it is my opinion that a civil magistrateought never to have any part in matters which more properly come underthe military authorities. However, since these things are differentlyarranged, and I am compelled to come with my reports to you in thefirst place, I am only here to know, without entering into anydiscussion concerning your position in the republic, what is to bedone with these two prisoners I have brought before you. "

"Done with them! Send them to the devil! cut their throats; let themgo; do what you like, since you are responsible, not I. And be sure, sir officer, I shall not fail to report your insubordinate languageto your superiors. "

"Your threats do not alarm me, " said the officer; "for one cannot beguilty of insubordination towards a person one is not bound to obey. And now, sirs, " he added, turning to us, "I have been advised to releaseyou; you are free to continue your journey. "

Marcos rose with alacrity. 

"Man, sit down!" yelled the irate magistrate, and poor Marcos, thoroughly crestfallen, sat down again. "Sir Lieutenant, " continuedthe fierce old man, "you are dismissed from further attendance here. The republic you profess to serve would perhaps be just as well offwithout your valuable aid. Go, sir, to attend to your private affairs, and leave your men here to execute my commands. "

The officer rose, and, having made a profound and sarcastic bow, turnedon his heel and left the room. 

"Take these two prisoners to the stocks, " continued the little despot. "I will examine them to-morrow. "

Marcos was first marched out of the room by two of the soldiers; forit happened that an outhouse on the place was provided with the usualwooden arrangement to make captives secure for the night. But when theother men took me by the arms, I recovered from the astonishment themagistrate's order had produced in me, and shook them roughly aside. "Señor Juez, " I said, addressing him, "let me beg you to consider whatyou are doing. Surely my accent is enough to satisfy any reasonableperson that I am not a native of this country. I am willing to remainin your custody, or to go wherever you like to send me; but your menshall tear me to pieces before making me suffer the indignity of thestocks. If you maltreat me in any way, I warn you that the governmentyou serve will only censure, and perhaps ruin you, for your imprudentzeal. "

Before he could reply, his fat spouse, who had apparently taken a greatfancy to me, interposed on my behalf, and persuaded the little savageto spare me. 

"Very well, " he said, "consider yourself a guest in my house for thepresent; if you are telling the truth about yourself, a day's detentioncannot hurt you. "

I was then conducted by my kind intercessor into the kitchen, wherewe all sat down to partake of _maté_ and talk ourselves into goodhumour. 

I began to feel rather sorry for poor Marcos, for even a worthlessvagabond, such as he appeared to be, becomes an object of compassionwhen misfortune overtakes him, and I asked permission to see him. Thiswas readily granted. I found him confined in a large empty room builtapart from the house; he had been provided with a _maté_-cup anda kettle of hot water, and was sipping his bitter beverage with an airof stoical indifference. His legs, confined in the stocks, were thruststraight out before him; but I suppose he was accustomed touncomfortable positions, for he did not seem to mind it much. Aftersympathising with him in a general way, I asked him whether he couldreally sleep in that position. 

"No, " he replied, with indifference. "But, do you know, I do not mindabout being taken. They will send me to the _comandancia_, Isuppose, and after a few days liberate me. I am a good workman onhorseback, and there will not be wanting some _estanciero_ inneed of hands to get me out. Will you do me one small service, friend, before you go to your bed?"

"Yes, certainly, if I can, " I answered. 

He laughed slightly and looked at me with a strange, keen glitter inhis eyes; then, taking my hand, he gave it a powerful grip. "No, no, my friend, I am not going to trouble you to do anything for me, " hesaid. "I have the devil's temper, and to-day, in a moment of rage, Iinsulted you. It therefore surprised me when you came here and spokekindly to me. I desired to know whether that feeling was only on thesurface; since the men one meets with are often like horned cattle. When one falls, his companions of the pasture-ground remember only hispast offences, and make haste to gore him. "

His manner surprised me; he did not now seem like the Marcos Marcó Ihad travelled with that day. Touched with his words, I sat down on thestocks facing him, and begged him to tell me what I could do for him. 

"Well, friend, " said he, "you see the stocks are fastened with apadlock. If you will get the key, and take me out, I will sleep well;then in the morning, before the old one-eyed lunatic is up, you cancome and turn the key in the lock again. Nobody will be the wiser. "

"And you are not thinking of escaping?" I said. 

"I have not even the faintest wish to escape, " he replied. 

"You could not escape if you did, " I said, "for the room would belocked, of course. But if I were disposed to do what you ask, how couldI get the key?"

"That is an easy matter, " said Marcos. "Ask the good señora to let youhave it. Did I not notice her eyes dwelling lovingly on your face--for, doubtless, you reminded her of some absent relative, a favourite nephew, perhaps. She would not deny you anything in reason; and a kindness, friend, even to the poorest man, is never thrown away. "

"I will think about it, " I said, and shortly after that I left him. 

It was a sultry evening, and, the close, smoky atmosphere of the kitchenbecoming unendurable, I went out and sat down on a log of wood out ofdoors. Here the old Juez, in his character of amiable host, came anddiscoursed for half an hour on lofty matters relating to the republic. Presently his wife came out, and, declaring that the evening air wouldhave an injurious effect on his inflamed eye, persuaded him to goindoors. Then she subsided into a place at my side, and began to talkabout Fernando's dreadful temper and the many cares of her life. 

"What a very serious young man you are!" she remarked, changing hertone somewhat abruptly. "Do you keep all your gay and pleasant speechesfor the young and pretty señoritas?"

"Ah, señora, you are yourself young and beautiful in my eyes, " Ireplied; "but I have no heart to be gay when my poor fellow-travelleris fastened in the stocks, where your cruel husband would also haveconfined me but for your timely intervention. You are so kind-hearted, cannot you have his poor tired legs taken out in order that he mayalso rest properly to-night?"

"Ah, little friend, " she returned. "I could not attempt such a thing. Fernando is a monster of cruelty, and would immediately put out myeyes without remorse. Poor me, what I have to endure!"--and here sheplaced her fat hand on mine. 

I drew my hand away somewhat coldly; a born diplomatist could not havemanaged the thing better. 

"Madam, " I said, "you are amusing yourself at my expense. When youhave done me a great favour, will you now deny me this small thing?If your husband is so terrible a despot, surely you can do this withoutletting him know! Let me get my poor Marcos out of the stocks and Igive you my word of honour that the Juez will never hear of it, forI will be up early to turn the key in the lock before he is out of hisbed. "

"And what will my reward be?" she asked, again putting her hand onmine. 

"The deep gratitude and devotion of my heart, " I returned, this timewithout withdrawing my hand. 

"Can I refuse anything to my sweet boy?" said she. "After supper Ishall slip the key into your hand; I am going now to get it from hisroom. Before Fernando retires, ask to see your Marcos, to take him arug, or some tobacco or something; and do not let the servant see whatyou do, for he will be at the door waiting to lock it when you comeout. "

After supper the promised key was secretly conveyed to me, and I hadnot the least difficulty in liberating my friend in misfortune. Luckilythe man who took me to Marcos left us alone for some time, and I relatedmy conversation with the fat woman. 

He jumped up, and, seizing my hand, wrung it till I almost screamedwith pain. 

"My good friend, " he said, "you have a noble, generous soul, have doneme the greatest service it is possible for one man to render to another. You have, in fact, now placed me in a position to--enjoy my night'srest. Good night, and may Heaven's angels put it in my power to rewardyou at some future time!"

The fellow was overdoing it a little, I thought; then, when I had seenhim safely locked up for the night, I walked back to the kitchen slowlyand very thoughtfully. 

CHAPTER XI

I walked thoughtfully back, because, after rendering that unimportantservice to Marcos, I began to experience sundry qualms of conscienceand inward questionings concerning the strict morality of the wholeproceeding. Allowing that I had done something very kind, charitable, and altogether praiseworthy in getting the poor fellow's unfortunatefeet out of the stocks, did all that justify the cajolery I hadpractised to attain my object? Or, to put it briefly in the old familiarway: Does the end sanctify the means? Assuredly it does in some cases, very easy to be imagined. Let us suppose that I have a beloved friend, an ailing person of a nervous, delicate organisation, who has takenit into his poor cracked brains that he is going to expire at thestroke of twelve on a given night. Without consulting the authoritieson ethical questions, I should, in such a case, flit about his roomsecretly manipulating his timepieces, till I had advanced them a wholehour, and then, just before the stroke of midnight, triumphantly producemy watch and inform him that death had failed to keep the appointment. Such an acted lie as that would weigh nothing on the conscience of anyman. The fact of the matter is, the circumstances must always beconsidered and every case judged on its own particular merits. Now, this affair of getting the key was not one for me to judge, since Ihadbeen a chief actor in it, but rather for some acute and learnedcasuist. I therefore made a mental note of it, with the intention ofputting it impartially before the first person of that description Ishould meet. Having thus disposed of a troublesome matter, I feltgreatly relieved in mind, and turned into the kitchen once more. I hadscarcely sat down, however, before I round that one disagreeableconsequence of my performance--the fat señora's claim on my undyingdevotion and gratitude--had yet to be faced. She greeted my entrancewith an effusive smile; and the sweetest smiles of some people onemeets are less endurable than their black looks. In self-defence Iassumed as drowsy and vacant an expression as I could summon on theinstant to a countenance by nature almost too ingenuous. I pretendednot to hear, or to misunderstand, everything that was said to me;finally I grew so sleepy that I was several times on the point offalling off my chair, then, after each extravagant nod, I would startup and stare vacantly around me. My grim little host could scarcelyconceal a quiet smile, for never had he seen a person so outrageouslysleepy before. At length he mercifully remarked that I seemed fatigued, and advised me to retire. Very gladly I made my exit, followed in myretreat from the kitchen by a pair of sad, reproachful eyes. 

I slept soundly enough in the comfortable bed, which my obese Gulnarehad provided for me, until the numerous cocks of the establishmentwoke me shortly after daybreak with their crowing. Remembering thatI had to secure Marcos in the stocks before the irascible littlemagistrate should appear on the scene, I rose and hastily dressedmyself. I found the greasy man of the brass buttons already in thekitchen sipping his matutinal _maté-amargo, _ and asked him tolend me the key of the prisoner's room; for this was what I had beeninstructed to do by the señora. He got up and went with me to open thedoor himself, not caring, I suppose, to trust me with the key. Whenhe threw the door open we stood silently gazing for some time into theempty apartment. The prisoner had vanished and a large hole cut in thethatch of the roof showed how and where he had made his exit. I feltvery much exasperated at the shabby trick the fellow had played on us, on me especially, for I was in a measure responsible for him. Fortunately the man who opened the door never suspected me of beingan accomplice, but merely remarked that the stocks had evidently beenleft unlocked by the soldiers the evening before, so that it was notstrange the prisoner had made his escape. 

When the other members of the household got up, the matter was discussedwith little excitement or even interest, and I soon concluded that thesecret of the escape would remain between the lady of the house andmyself. She watched for an opportunity to speak to me alone, then, shaking her fat forefinger at me in playful anger, whispered, "Ah, deceiver, you planned it all with him last evening and only made meyour instrument!"

"Señora, " I protested, with dignity, "I assure you on the word ofhonour of an Englishman, I never suspected the man had any intentionof escaping. I am very angry it has happened. "

"What do you suppose I care about his escaping?" she replied laughingly. "For your sake, sweet friend, I would gladly open the doors of everyprison in the Banda if I had the power. "

"Ah, how you flatter! But I must now go to your husband to learn fromhim what he intends doing with the prisoner who has not attempted toescape. "

With this excuse I got away from her. 

The wretched little Juez, when I spoke to him, put me off with a numberof vague, meaningless phrases about his responsible position, thepeculiar nature of his functions, and the unsettled state of therepublic--as if it had ever known or was ever likely to know any otherstate! He then mounted his horse and rode away to Las Cuevas, leavingme with that dreadful woman; and I verily believe that in doing so hewas only carrying out her private instructions. The only comfort hegave me was the promise he made before going that a communicationrespecting me would be forwarded to the Commandante of the districtin the course of the day, which would probably result in my beingpassed on to that functionary. In the meanwhile he begged me to makefree use of his house and everything in it. Of course, the misguidedlittle wretch had no intention of throwing his fat wife at my head;still, I had no doubt that it was she who inspired these complimentaryphrases, telling him, perhaps, that he would lose nothing by a courteoustreatment of the "English millionaire. "

When he rode away he left me sitting on the gate, feeling very muchdisgusted, and almost wishing that, like Marcos Marcó, I had run awayduring the night. Never had I taken so sudden and violent a disliketo anything as I then and there did to that estancia, where I was anhonoured, albeit a compulsory guest. The hot, brilliant morning sunshonedown on the discoloured thatch and mud-plastered walls of thesordid-looking building, while all about wherever I cast my eyes theyrested on weeds, old bones, broken bottles, and other rubbish--eloquentwitnesses of the dirty, idle, thriftless character of the inmates. Meanwhile my sweet, angelic child-wife, with her violet eyes dim withtears, was waiting for me far away in Montevideo, wondering at my longabsence, and even now perhaps shading her face with her lily hand andlooking out on the white dusty road watching for my arrival! And hereI was compelled to sit, idly swinging my legs on the gate, becausethat abominable fat woman had taken a fancy to keep me by her! Feelingmad with indignation, I suddenly jumped down from the gate with anexclamation not intended for ears polite, causing my hostess to jumpalso and utter a scream; for there she was (confound her!) standingjust behind me. 

"The Saints defend me!" she exclaimed, recovering herself and laughing;"what made you startle me so?"

I apologised for the strong expression I had used; then added, "Señora, I am a young man full of energy and accustomed to take a great dealof exercise every day, and I am getting very impatient sitting herebasking in the sunshine, like a turtle on a bank of mud. "

"Why, then, do you not take a walk?" she said, with kind concern. 

I said I would gladly do so, and thanked her for the permission; thenshe immediately offered to accompany me. I protested very ungallantlythat I was a fast walker, and reminded her that the sun was excessivelyhot, and I should also have liked to add that she was excessively fat. She replied that it did not matter; so polite a person as myself wouldknow how to accommodate his pace to that of his companion. Unable toshake her off, I started for my walk in a somewhat unamiable mood, thestout lady resolutely trudging on at my side, perspiring abundantly. Our path led us down to a little cañada, or valley, where the groundwas moist and abounding with numerous pretty flowers and featherygrasses, very refreshing to look at after leaving the parched yellowground about the estancia house. 

"You seem to be very fond of flowers, " observed my companion. "Let mehelp you gather them. To whom will you give your nosegay when it ismade?"

"Señora, " I replied, vexed at her trivial chatter, "I will give it tothe--" I had almost said to the devil, when a piercing scream sheuttered suddenly arrested the rude speech on my lips. 

Her fright had been caused by a pretty little snake, about eighteeninches long, which she had seen gliding away at her feet. And no wonderit glided away from her with all the speed it was capable of, for howgigantic and deformed a monster that fat woman must have seemed to it!The terror of a timid little child at the sight of a hippopotamus, robed in flowing bed-curtains and walking erect on its hind legs, wouldperhaps be comparable to the panic possessing the shallow brain of thepoor speckled thing when that huge woman came striding over it. 

First I laughed, and then, seeing that she was about to throw herselffor protection like a mountain of flesh upon me, I turned and ran afterthe snake--for I had observed that it belonged to a harmless species, one of the innocuous Coronella genus--and I was anxious to annoy thewoman. I captured it in a moment; then, with the poor frightenedcreature struggling in my hand and winding itself about my wrist, Iwalked back to her. 

"Did you ever see such lovely colours?" I cried. "Look at the delicateprimrose yellow on its neck, deepening into vivid crimson on the belly. Talk of flowers and butterflies! And its eyes are bright as two smalldiamonds--look closely at them, señora, for they are well worth youradmiration. "

But she only turned and fled away screaming at my approach, and atlast, finding that I would not obey her and drop the terrible reptile, she left me in a towering rage and went back to the house by herself. 

After that I continued my walk in peace amongst the flowers; but mylittle speckled captive had served me so well that I would not releaseit. It occurred to me that if I kept it on my person it might serveas a sort of talisman to protect me from the disagreeable attentionsof the señora. Finding that it was a very sly little snakey, and, likeMarcos Marcó in captivity, full of subtle deceit, I put it into myhat, which, when firmly pressed on to my head, left no opening for thelittle arrowy head to insinuate itself through. After spending two orthree hours botanising in the _cañada_, I returned to the house. I was in the kitchen refreshing myself with a bitter _maté_, whenmy hostess came in beaming with smiles, for she had, I suppose, forgivenme by this time. I politely rose and removed my hat. Unfortunately Ihad forgotten the snake, when out it dropped on the floor; then followedscreams, confusion and scuttling out of the kitchen by madame, children, and servants. After that I was compelled to carry the snake out andgive it back its liberty, which no doubt tasted very sweet to it afterits close confinement. On my return to the house, one of the servantsinformed me that the señora was too much offended to sit in the sameroom with me again, so that I was obliged to have my breakfast alone;and for the remainder of the time during which I was a prisoner I wasavoided by everyone (except Brass Buttons, --who appeared indifferentto everything on earth), as if I had been a leper or a dangerouslunatic. They thought, perhaps, that I still had other reptilesconcealed about my person. 

Of course, one always expects to find a cruel, unreasoning prejudiceagainst snakes amongst ignorant people, but I never knew before towhat ridiculous lengths it will carry them. The prejudice makes meangry, but on this occasion it had a use, for it enabled me to passthe day unmolested. 

In the evening the Juez returned, and I soon heard him loud in a stormyaltercation with his wife. Perhaps she wanted him to have medecapitated. How it ended I cannot say; but when I saw him his mannertowards me was freezing, and he retired without giving me an opportunityof speaking to him. 

Next morning I got up resolved not to be put off any longer. Somethingwould have to be done, or I would know the reason why. On stepping outI was very much surprised to see my horse standing saddled at the gate. I went into the kitchen and asked Brass Buttons, the only person up, what it meant. 

"Who knows?" he returned, giving me a _maté_. "Perhaps the Juezdesires you to leave the house before he is up. "

"What did he say?" I demanded. 

"Say? Nothing--what should he say?"

"But you saddled the horse, I suppose?"

"Of course. Who else would do it?"

"Were you told to do so by the Juez?"

"Told? Why should he tell me?"

"How, then, am I to know that he wishes me to leave his beautifulhouse?" I asked, getting angry. 

"The question!" he returned, shrugging his shoulders. "How do you knowwhen it is going to rain?"

Finding there was nothing more to be got out of the fellow, I finishingtaking _maté_, lit a cigar, and left the house. It was a lovelymorning, without a cloud, and the heavy dew sparkled on the grass likedrops of rain. What a pleasant thing it was to be able to ride forthagain free to go where I liked!

And so ends my snake-story, which is perhaps not very interesting; butit is true, and therefore has one advantage over all other snake-storiestold by travellers. 

CHAPTER XII

Before leaving the magistrate's _estancia_ I had made up my mindto return by the shortest route, and as quickly as possible, toMontevideo; and that morning, mounted on a well-rested horse, I covereda great deal of ground. By twelve o'clock, when I stopped to rest myhorse and get some refreshment at a wayside _pulpería_, I had gotover about eight leagues. This was travelling at an imprudent pace, of course; but in the Banda Orientál it is so easy to pick up a freshhorse that one becomes somewhat reckless. My journey that morning hadtaken me over the eastern portion of the Durazno district, and I waseverywhere charmed with the beauty of the country, though it was stillvery dry, the grass on the higher lands being burnt to various shadesof yellow and brown. Now, however, the summer heats were over, for thetime was near the end of February; the temperature, without beingoppressive, was deliciously warm, so that travelling on horseback wasdelightful. I might fill dozens of pages with descriptions of prettybits of country I passed that day, but must plead guilty of anunconquerable aversion to this kind of writing. After this candidconfession, I hope the reader will not quarrel with me for the omission;besides, anyone who cares for these things, and knows how evanescentare the impressions left by word pictures on the mind, can sail theseas and gallop round the world to see them all for himself. It isnot, however, every wanderer from England--I blush while saying it--whocan make himself familiar with the home habits, the ways of thoughtand speech, of a distant people. Bid me discourse of lowly valley, lofty height, of barren waste, shady wood, or cooling stream where Ihave drunk and been refreshed; but all these places, pleasant or dreary, must be in the kingdom called the heart. 

After getting some information about the country I had to traversefrom the _pulpero_, who told me that I would probably reach theRiver Yí before evening, I resumed my journey. About four o'clock inthe afternoon I came to an extensive wood of thorn-trees, of which the_pulpero_ had spoken, and, in accordance with his instructions, I skirted it on the eastern side. The trees were not large, but therewas an engaging wildness about this forest, full of the musical chatterof birds, which tempted me to alight from my horse and rest for anhour in the shade. Taking the bit from his mouth to let him feed, Ithrew myself down on the dry grass under a clump of shady thorns, andfor half an hour watched the sparkling sunlight falling through thefoliage overhead, and listened to the feathered people that came aboutme, loudly chirping, apparently curious to know what object had broughtme to their haunts. Then I began to think of all the people I hadrecently mixed with: the angry magistrate and his fat wife--horridwoman!--and Marcos Marcó, that shabby rascal, rose up before me topass quickly away, and once more I was face to face with that lovelymystery Margarita. In imagination I put forth my hands to take hers, and drew her towards me so as to look more closely into her eyes, vainly questioning them as to their pure sapphire hue. Then I imaginedor dreamt that with trembling fingers I unbraided her hair to let itfall like a splendid golden mantle over her mean dress, and asked herhow she came to possess that garment of glory. The sweet, grave, childlips smiled, but returned no answer. Then a shadowy face seemed toshape itself dimly against the green curtain of foliage, and, lookingover the fair girl's shoulder, gaze sadly into my eyes. It was theface of Paquíta. Ah, sweet wife, never let the green-eyed monstertrouble the peace of your heart! Know that the practical Saxon mindof your husband is puzzling itself over a purely scientific problem, that this surpassingly fair child interests me only because her fairnessseems to upset all physiological laws. I was, in fact, just sinkingto sleep at this moment when the shrill note of a trumpet blown closeby and followed by loud shouts from several voices made me springinstantly to my feet. A storm of answering shouts came from anotherquarter of the wood, then followed profound silence. Presently thetrumpet sounded again, making me feel very much alarmed. My firstimpulse was to spring on to my horse and ride away for dear life; but, on second thoughts, I concluded that it would be safer to remainconcealed amongst the trees, as by leaving them I should only revealmyself to the robbers or rebels, or whatever they were. I bridled myhorse so as to be ready to run, then drew him into a close thicket ofdark-foliaged bushes and fastened him there. The silence that hadfallen on the wood continued, and at last, unable to bear the suspenselonger, I began to make my way cautiously, revolver in hand, towardsthe point the sounds had proceeded from. Stealing softly through thebushes and trees where they grew near together, I came at length insight of an open piece of ground, about two or three hundred yardswide, and overgrown with grass. Near its border on one side I wasamazed to see a group of about a dozen boys, their ages ranging fromabout ten to fifteen, all standing perfectly motionless. One of themheld a trumpet in his hand, and they all wore red handkerchiefs orrags tied round their heads. Suddenly, while I crouched amongst theleafage watching them, a shrill note sounded from the opposite sideof the open space, and another troop of boys wearing white on theirheads burst from the trees and advanced with loud shouts of _vivas_and _mueras_ towards the middle of the ground. Again the red headssounded their trumpet, and went out boldly to meet the new-comers. Asthe two bands approached each other, each led by a big boy, who turnedat intervals and with many wild gestures addressed his followers, apparently to encourage them, I was amazed to see them all suddenlydraw out long knives, such as the native horsemen usually wear, andrush furiously together. In a moment they were mingled together in adesperate fight, uttering the most horrible yells, their long weaponsglittering in the sunshine as they brandished them about. With suchfury did they fight that in a few moments all the combatants laystretched out on the grass, excepting three boys wearing the red badges. One of these bloodthirsty young miscreants then snatched up the trumpetand blew a victorious blast, while the other two shrieked anaccompaniment of _vivas_ and _mueras_. While they were thusoccupied one of the white-headed boys struggled to his feet, and, snatching up a knife, charged the three reds with desperate courage. Had I not been perfectly paralysed with amazement at what I hadwitnessed, I should then have rushed out to aid this boy in his forlornattempt; but in an instant his three foes were on him and dragged himdown to the ground. Two of them then held him fast by the legs andarms, the other raised his long knife, and was just about to plungeit in the struggling captive's breast, when, uttering a loud yell, Isprang up and rushed at them. Instantly they started up and fledscreaming towards the trees in the greatest terror; and then, mostwonderful thing of all, the dead boys all came to life, and, springingto their feet, fled from me after the others. This brought me to astand, when, seeing that one of the boys limped painfully after hiscompanions, hopping on one leg, I made a sudden dash and captured himbefore he could reach the shelter of the trees. 

"Oh, señor, do not kill me!" he pleaded, bursting into tears. 

"I have no wish to kill you, you unspeakable young miscreant, but Ithink I ought to thrash you, " I answered, for, though greatly relievedat the turn things had taken, I was excessively annoyed at havingexperienced all those sensations of blood-curdling horror for nothing. 

"We were only playing at Whites and Reds, " he pleaded. 

I then made him sit down and tell me all about this singular game. 

None of the boys lived very near, he said; some of them came a distanceof several leagues, and they had selected this locality for theirsports on account of its seclusion, for they did not like to be foundout. Their game was a mimic war of Whites and Reds, manoeuvres, surprises, skirmishes, throat-cutting, and all. 

I pitied the young patriot at the last, for he had sprained his anklebadly and could scarcely walk, and so assisted him to the spot wherehis horse was hidden; then, having helped him to mount and given hima cigarette, for which he had the impudence to ask me, I laughinglybade him good-bye. I went back to look for my own horse after that, beginning to feel very much amused at the whole thing; but, alas! mysteed was gone. The young scoundrels had stolen him, to revengethemselves on me, I suppose, for disturbing them; and to relieve mefrom all doubt in the matter they left two bits of rag, one white andthe other red, attached to the branch I had fastened the bridle to. For some time I wandered about the wood, and even shouted aloud in thewild hope that the young fiends were not going to carry things so faras to leave me without a horse in that solitary place. Nothing couldI see or hear of them, however, and as it was getting late and Iwasbecoming desperately hungry and thirsty, I resolved to go in searchof some habitation. 

On emerging from the forest I found the adjacent plain covered withcattle quietly grazing. Any attempt to pass through the herd wouldhave been almost certain death, as these more than half-wild beastswill always take revenge on their master man when they catch himdismounted in the open. As they were coming up from the direction ofthe river, and were slowly grazing past the wood, I resolved to waitfor them to pass on before leaving my concealment. I sat down and triedto be patient, but the brutes were in no hurry, and went on skirtingthe wood at a snail's pace. It was about six o'clock before the laststragglers had left, and then I ventured out from my hiding-place, hungry as a wolf and afraid of being overtaken by night before findingany human habitation. I had left the trees half a mile behind me, andwas walking hurriedly along towards the valley of the Yí, when, passingover a hillock, I suddenly found myself in sight of a bull resting onthe grass and quietly chewing his cud. Unfortunately the brute saw meat the same moment and immediately stood up. He was, I think, aboutthree or four years old, and a bull of that age is even more dangerousthan an older one; for he is quite as truculent as the other and farmore active. There was no refuge of any kind near, and I knew verywell that to attempt to escape by running would only increase my danger, so after gazing at him for a few moments I assumed an easy, unconcernedmanner and walked on; but he was not going to be taken in that way, and began to follow me. Then for the first, and I devoutly hope forthe last, time in my life I was compelled to resort to the gaucho plan, and, casting myself face downwards on the earth, lay there simulatingdeath. It is a miserable, dangerous expedient, but, in the circumstancesI found myself, the only one offering a chance of escape from a veryterrible death. In a few moments I heard his heavy tramp, then felthim sniffing me all over. After that he tried unsuccessfully to rollme over, in order to study my face, I suppose. It was horrible toendure the prods he gave me and lie still, but after a while he grewquieter, and contented himself by simply keeping guard over me;occasionally smelling at my head, then turning round to smell at myheels. Probably his theory was, if he had one, that I had fainted withfear at the sight of him and would recover presently, but he was notquite sure at which end of me returning life would first show itself. About once in every five or six minutes he seemed to get impatient, and then he would paw me with his heavy hoof, uttering a low, hoarsemoaning, spattering me with froth from his mouth; but as he showed nodisposition to leave, I at last resolved to try a very bold experiment, for my position was becoming unendurable. I waited till the brute'shead was turned from me, then worked my hand cautiously down to myrevolver; but before I had quite drawn it, he noticed the movement andwheeled swiftly round, kicking my legs as he did so. Just as he broughthis head round close to mine, I discharged the weapon in his face, andthe sudden explosion so terrified him that he turned tail and fled, never pausing in his lumbering gallop till he was out of sight. It wasa glorious victory; and though I could scarcely stand on my legs atfirst, so stiff and bruised did I feel all over, I laughed with joy, and even sent another bullet whizzing after the retreating monster, accompanying the discharge with a wild yell of triumph. 

After that I proceeded without further interruption on my walk, and, had I not felt so ravenously hungry and so sore where the bull hadtrod on me or prodded me with his horns, the walk would have been veryenjoyable, for I was now approaching the Yí. The ground grew moist andgreen, and flowers abounded, many of them new to me, and so lovely andfragrant that in my admiration for them I almost forgot my pain. Thesun went down, but no house appeared in sight. Over the western heavensflamed the brilliant hues of the afterglow, and from the long grasscame the sad, monotonous trill of some night insect. Troops of hoodedgulls flew by me on their way from their feeding grounds to the water, uttering their long, hoarse, laughter-like cries. How buoyant and happythey seemed, flying with their stomachs full to their rest; while I, dismounted and supperless, dragged painfully on like a gull that hadbeen left behind with a broken wing. Presently, through the purple andsaffron-hued vapours in the western sky, the evening star appeared, large and luminous, the herald of swift-coming darkness; andthen--weary, bruised, hungry, baffled, and despondent--I sat down tomeditate on my forlorn position. 

CHAPTER XIII

I sat there till it was very dark, and the longer I sat the colder andstiffer I grew, yet I felt no disposition to walk farther. At lengtha large owl, flapping down close to my head, gave utterance to a longhiss, followed by a sharp, clicking sound, ending with a sudden loud, laugh-like cry. The nearness of it startled me, and, looking up, I sawa twinkling yellow light gleam for a moment across the wide, blackplain, then disappear. A few fireflies were flitting about the grass, but I felt sure the gleam just witnessed proceeded from a fire; andafter vainly trying to catch sight of it again from my seat on theground, I rose and walked on, keeping before me a particular starshining directly over the spot where that transient glimmer hadappeared. Presently, to my great joy, I spied it again in the sameplace, and felt convinced that it was the gleam of firelight shiningfrom the open door or window of some _rancho_ or _estancia_ house. Withrenewed hope and energy I hastened on, the light increasing in brightnessas I progressed; and, after half an hour's brisk walking, I found myselfapproaching a human dwelling of some kind. I could make out a dark massof trees and bushes, a long, low house, and, nearer to me, a corral, orcattle-pen, of tall, upright posts. Now, however, when a refuge seemed soclose, the fear of the terrible, savage dogs kept on most of thesecattle-breeding establishments made me hesitate. Unless I wished to runthe risk of being shot, it was necessary to shout loudly to make myapproach known, yet by shouting I would inevitably bring a pack of huge, frantic dogs upon me; and the horns of the angry bull I had encounteredwere less terrible to contemplate than the fangs of these powerful, truculent brutes. I sat down on the ground to consider the position, andpresently heard the clatter of approaching hoofs. Immediately afterwardsthree men rode past me, but did not see me, for I was crouching downbehind some scrubby bushes. When the horsemen approached the house thedogs rushed forth to assail them, and their loud, fierce barking, and thewild shouts of some person from the house calling them off, were enoughto make a dismounted man nervous. However, now was my only chance, and, starting up, I hurried on towards the noise. As I passed the corral thebrutes became aware of my approach, and instantly turned their attentionon me. I wildly shouted. _"Ave Maria, "_ then, revolver in hand, stoodawaiting the onset; but when they were near enough for me to see thatthe pack was composed of eight or ten huge yellow mastiff-like brutes, my courage failed, and I fled to the corral, where, with an agilitysurpassing that of a wild cat, so great was my terror, I climbed upa post and placed myself beyond their reach. With the dogs furiouslybarking under me, I renewed my shouts of _"Ave Maria"_--the properthing to do when you approach a strange house in these pious latitudes. After some time the men approached--four of them--and asked me whoI was and what I did there. I gave an account of myself, then askedwhether it would be safe for me to descend. The master of the housetook the hint, and drove his faithful protectors off, after which Icame down from my uncomfortable perch. 

He was a tall, well-made, but rather fierce-looking gaucho, with keenblack eyes, and a heavy black beard. He seemed suspicious of me--avery unusual thing in a native's house, and asked me a great manysearching questions; and finally, still with some reluctance in hismanner, he invited me into the kitchen. There I found a big fire blazingmerrily on the raised clay hearth in the centre of the large room, andseated near it an old grey-haired woman, a middle-aged, tall, dark-skinned dame in a purple dress--my host's wife; a pale, prettyyoung woman, about sixteen years old, and a little girl. When I satdown my host began once more questioning me; but he apologised fordoing so, saying that my arrival on foot seemed a very extraordinarycircumstance. I told them how I had lost my horse, saddle, and_poncho_ in the wood, and then related my encounter with the bull. They listened to it all with very grave faces, but I am sure it wasas good as a comedy to them. Don Sinforiano Alday--the owner of theplace, and my questioner--made me take off my coat to exhibit thebruises the bull's hoofs had inflicted on my arms and shoulders. Hewas anxious, even after that, to know something more about me, and soto satisfy him I gave him a brief account of some of my adventures inthe country, down to my arrest with Marcos Marcó, and how that plausiblegentleman had made his escape from the magistrate's house. That madethem all laugh, and the three men I had seen arrive, and who appearedto be casual visitors, became very friendly, frequently passing me therum-bottle with which they were provided. 

After sipping _maté_ and rum for half an hour we settled down todiscuss a plentiful supper of roast and boiled beef and mutton, withgreat basins of well-seasoned broth to wash it down. I consumed anamazing quantity of meat, as much, in fact, as any gaucho there; andto eat as much as one of these men at a sitting is a feat for anEnglishman to boast about. Supper done, I lit a cigar and leant backagainst the wall, enjoying many delightful sensations alltogether--warmth, rest, and hunger satisfied, and the subtle fragranceof that friend and comforter, divine tobacco. On the farther side ofthe room my host was meanwhile talking to the other men in low tones. Occasional glances in my direction seemed to show that they stillharboured some suspicion of me, or that they had some grave mattersto converse about unsuitable for a stranger to hear. 

At length Alday rose and addressed me. "Señor, if you are ready torest I will now conduct you to another room, where you can have somerugs and _ponchos_ to make a bed with. "

"If my presence here is not inconvenient, " I returned, "I would ratherremain and smoke by the fire. "

"You see, señor, " he said, "I have arranged to meet some neighboursand friends, who are coming here to discuss matters of importance withme. I am even now expecting their arrival, and the presence of astranger would scarcely allow us to talk freely over our affairs. "

"Since you wish it, I will go to any part of the house you may thinkproper to put me in, " I returned. 

I rose, not very cheerfully, I must say, from my comfortable seatbefore the fire, to follow him out, when the tramp of galloping horsescame to our ears. 

"Follow me this way--quick, " exclaimed my impatient conductor; butjust as I reached the door about a dozen mounted men dashed up closeto us and burst forth in a perfect storm of yells. Instantly all thosewho were in the kitchen sprang to their feet uttering loud exclamationsand looking greatly excited. Then came from the mounted men anotherwild outburst as they all yelled together, _"Viva el General SantaColoma--viv--a. "_

The other three men then rushed from the kitchen, and in excited tonesbegan to ask if anything fresh had happened. Meanwhile I was leftstanding at the door by myself. The women appeared almost as excitedas the men, except the girl, who had glanced at me with shy compassionin her large, dark eyes when I had been roused from my seat by thefire. Taking advantage of the general excitement, I now repaid thatkindly look with one of admiration. She was a quiet, bashful girl, herpale face crowned with a profusion of black hair; and while she stoodthere waiting, apparently unconcerned by the hubbub outside, she lookedstrangely pretty, her homemade cotton gown, of limp and scanty material, clinging closely to her limbs so as to display her slender, gracefulform to the best advantage. Presently, seeing me looking at her, shecame near, and, touching my arm in passing, told me in a whisper togo back to my seat by the fire. I gladly obeyed her, for my curiositywas now thoroughly aroused, and I wished to know the meaning of thisoutcry which had thrown these phlegmatic gauchos into such a frenziedstate of excitement. It looked rather like a political row--but ofGeneral Santa Coloma I had never heard, and it seemed curious that aname so seldom mentioned should be the rallying cry of revolutionists. 

In a few minutes the men all streamed back into the kitchen. Then themaster of the house, Alday, his face on fire with emotion, thrusthimself into the midst of the crowd. 

"Boys, are you mad!" he cried. "Do you not see a stranger here? Whatis the meaning of all this outcry if nothing new has happened?"

A roar of laughter from the new-comers greeted this outburst, afterwhich they raised another yell of "_Viva Santa Colomal_"

Alday became furious. "Speak, madmen!" he shouted; "tell me, in God'sname, what has happened--or do you wish to ruin everything with yourimprudence?"

"Listen, Alday, " replied one of the men, "and know how little we needfear the presence of a stranger. Santa Coloma, the hope of Uruguay, the saviour of his country, who will shortly deliver us out of thepower of Colorado assassins and pirates--Santa Coloma has come! He ishere in our midst; he has seized on El Molino del Yí, and has raisedthe standard of revolt against the infamous government of Montevideo!_Viva Santa Colomal_"

Alday flung his hat off, and, falling on his knees, remained for somemoments in silent prayer, his hands clasped before him. The others allsnatched off their hats and stood silent, grouped about him. Then hestood up, and all together joined in a _viva_, which far surpassedin its deafening power their previous performances. 

My host now appeared to be almost beside himself with excitement. 

"What, " he cried, "my General come! Do you tell me that Santa Colomahas come? Oh, friends, the great God has remembered our sufferingcountry at last! He has grown weary of looking on man's injustice, thepersecutions, the bloodshed, the cruelties that have almost driven usmad. I cannot realise it! Let me go to my General, that these eyesthat have watched for his coming may see him and rejoice. I cannotwait for daylight--this very night must I ride to El Molino, that Imay see him and touch him with my hands, and know that it is not adream. "

His words were welcomed with a shout of applause, and the other menall immediately announced their intention to accompany him to El Molino, a small town on the Yí some leagues distant. 

Some of the men now went out to catch fresh horses, while Alday busiedhimself in bringing out a store of old broadswords and carbines fromtheir concealment in some other part of the house. The men, talkingexcitedly together, occupied themselves in scouring and sharpening therusty weapons, while the women cooked a fresh supply of meat for thelast comers; and in the meantime I was permitted to remain unnoticedby the fire, smoking peacefully. 

CHAPTER XIV

The girl I have mentioned, whose name was Monica, and the child, calledAnita, were the only persons there besides myself who were not carriedaway by the warlike enthusiasm of the moment. Monica, silent, pale, almost apathetic, was occupied serving _maté_ to the numerousguests; while the child, when the shouting and excitement was at itsheight, appeared greatly terrified, and clung to Alday's wife, tremblingand crying piteously. No notice was taken of the poor little thing, and at length she crept away into a corner to conceal herself behinda faggot of wood. Her hiding-place was close to my seat, and after alittle coaxing I induced her to leave it and come to me. She was amost forlorn little thing, with a white, thin face and large, dark, pathetic eyes. Her mean little cotton frock only reached to her knees, and her little legs and feet were bare. Her age was seven or eight;she was an orphan, and Alday's wife, having no children of her own, was bringing her up, or, rather, permitting her to grow up under herroof. I drew her to me, and tried to soothe her tremors and get herto talk. Little by little she gained confidence, and began to replyto my questions; then I learnt that she was a little shepherdess, although so young, and spent most of the time every day in followingthe flock about on her pony. Her pony and the girl Monica, who wassome relation--cousin, the child called her--were the two beings sheseemed to have the greatest affection for. 

"And when you slip off, how do you get on again?" I asked. 

"Little pony is tame, and I never fall off, " she said. "Sometimes Iget off, then I climb on again. "

"And what do you do all day long--talk and play?"

"I talk to my doll; I take it on the pony when I go with the sheep. "

"Is your doll very pretty, Anita?"

No answer. 

"Will you let me see your doll, Anita? I know I shall like your doll, because I like you. "

She gave me an anxious look. Evidently doll was a very precious beingand had not met with proper appreciation. After a little nervousfidgeting she left me and crept out of the room; then presently shecame back, apparently trying to screen something from the vulgar gazein her scanty little dress. It was her wonderful doll--the dearcompanion of her rambles and rides. With fear and trembling she allowedme to take it into my hands. It was, or consisted of, the forefoot ofa sheep, cut off at the knee; on the top of the knee part a littlewooden ball wrapped in a white rag represented the head, and it wasdressed in a piece of red flannel--a satyr-like doll, with one hairyleg and a cloven foot. I praised its pleasing countenance, its prettygown and dainty little boots; and all I said sounded very precious toAnita, filling her with emotions of the liveliest pleasure. 

"And do you never play with the dogs and cats and little lambs?" Iasked. 

"Not with the dogs and cats. When I see a very little lamb asleep Iget down and go softly, softly and catch it. It tries to get away;then I put my finger in its mouth, and it sucks, and sucks; then itruns away. "

"And what do you like best to eat?"

"Sugar. When uncle buys sugar, aunt gives me a lump. I make doll eatsome, and bite off one small piece and put it in pony's mouth. "

"Which would you rather have, Anita--a great many lumps of sugar, ora beautiful string of beads, or a little girl to play with?"

This question was rather too much for her neglected little brain, whichhad fed itself with such simple fare; so I was obliged to put it invarious ways, and at last, when she understood that only one of thethree things could be chosen, she decided in favour of a little girlto play with. 

Then I asked her if she liked to hear stories; this also puzzled her, and after some cross-questioning I discovered that she had never hearda story, and did not know what it meant. 

"Listen, Anita, and I will tell you a story, " I said. "Have you seenthe white mist over the Yí in the morning--a light, white mist thatflies away when the sun gets hot?"

Yes, she often saw the white mist in the morning, she told me. 

"Then I will tell you a story about the white mist and a little girlnamed Alma. "

"Little Alma lived close to the River Yí, but far, far from here, beyond the trees and beyond the blue hills, for the Yí is a very longriver. She lived with her grandmother and with six uncles, all bigtall men with long beards; and they always talked about wars, andcattle, and horse-racing, and a great many other important things thatAlma could not understand. There was no one to talk to Alma and forAlma to talk to or to play with. And when she went out of the housewhere all the big people were talking, she heard the cocks crowing, the dogs barking, the birds singing, the sheep bleating, and the treesrustling their leaves over her head, and she could not understand oneword of all they said. At last, having no one to play with or talk to, she sat down and began to cry. Now, it happened that near the spotwhere she sat there was an old black woman wearing a red shawl, whowas gathering sticks for the fire, and she asked Alma why she cried. 

"'Because I have no one to talk to and play with, ' said Alma. Then theold black woman drew a long brass pin out of her shawl and prickedAlma's tongue with it, for she made Alma hold it out to be pricked. 

"'Now, ' said the old woman, 'you can go and play and talk with thedogs, cats, birds, and trees, for you will understand all they say, and they will understand all you say. '

"Alma was very glad, and ran home as fast as she could to talk to thecat. 

"'Come, cat, let us talk and play together, ' she said. 

"'Oh no, ' said the cat. 'I am very busy watching a little bird, so youmust go away and play with little Niebla down by the river. '

"Then the cat ran away among the weeds and left her. The dogs alsorefused to play when she went to them; for they had to watch the houseand bark at strangers. Then they also told her to go and play withlittle Niebla down by the river. Then Alma ran out and caught a littleduckling, a soft little thing that looked like a ball of yellow cotton, and said:

"'Now, little duck, let us talk and play. '

"But the duckling only struggled to get away and screamed, 'Oh, mamma, mamma, come and take me away from Alma!'

"Then the old duck came rushing up, and said:

"'Alma, let my child alone: and if you want to play, go and play withNiebla down by the river. A nice thing to catch my duckie in yourhands--what next, I wonder!'

"So she let the duckling go, and at last she said, 'Yes, I will go andplay with Niebla down by the river. '

"She waited till she saw the white mist, and then ran all the way tothe Yí, and stood still on the green bank close by the water with thewhite mist all round her. By and by she saw a beautiful little childcome flying towards her in the white mist. The child came and stoodon the green bank and looked at Alma. Very, very pretty she was; andshe wore a white dress--whiter than milk, whiter than foam, and allembroidered with purple flowers; she had also white silk stockings, and scarlet shoes, bright as scarlet verbenas. Her hair was long andfluffy, and shone like gold, and round her neck she had a string ofbig gold beads. Then Alma said, 'Oh, beautiful little girl, what isyour name?' to which the little girl answered:

"'Niebla. '

"'Will you talk to me and play with me?' said Alma. 

"'Oh, no, ' said Niebla, 'how can I play with a little girl dressed asyou are and with bare feet?'

"For you know poor Alma only wore a little old frock that came downto her knees, and she had no shoes and stockings on. Then little Nieblarose up and floated away, away from the bank and down the river, andat last, when she was quite out of sight in the white mist, Alma beganto cry. When it got very hot she went and sat down, still crying, underthe trees; there were two very big willow-trees growing near the river. By and by the leaves rustled in the wind and the trees began talkingto each other, and Alma understood everything they said. 

"'Is it going to rain, do you think?' said one tree. 

"'Yes, I think it will--some day, ' said the other. 

"'There are no clouds, ' said the first tree. 

"'No, there are no clouds to-day, but there were some the day beforeyesterday, ' said the other. 

"'Have you got any nests in your branches?' said the first tree. 

"'Yes, one, ' said the other. 'It was made by a little yellow bird, andthere are five speckled eggs in it. '

"Then the first tree said, 'There is little Alma sitting in our shade;do you know why she is crying, neighbour?'

"The other tree answered, 'Yes, it is because she has no one to playwith. Little Niebla by the river refused to play with her because sheis not beautifully dressed. '

"Then the first tree said, 'Ah, she ought to go and ask the fox forsome pretty clothes to wear. The fox always keeps a great store ofpretty things in her hole. '

"Alma had listened to every word of this conversation. She rememberedthat a fox lived on the hillside not far off; for she had often seenit sitting in the sunshine with its little ones playing round it andpulling their mother's tail in fun. So Alma got up and ran till shefound the hole, and, putting her head down it, she cried out, 'Fox!Fox!' But the fox seemed cross, and only answered, without coming out, 'Go away, Alma, and talk to little Niebla. I am busy getting dinnerfor my children and have no time to talk to you now. '

"Then Alma cried, 'Oh, Fox, Niebla will not play with me because Ihave no pretty things to wear. Oh, Fox, will you give me a nice dressand shoes and stockings and a string of beads?'

"After a little while the fox came out of its hole with a big bundledone up in a red cotton handkerchief and said, 'Here are the things, Alma, and I hope they will fit you. But you know, Alma, you reallyought not to come at this time of day, for I am very busy just nowcooking the dinner--an armadillo roasted and a couple of partridgesstewed with rice, and a little omelette of turkeys' eggs. I meanplovers' eggs, of course; I never touch turkeys' eggs. '

"Alma said she was very sorry to give so much trouble. 

"'Oh, never mind, ' said the fox. 'How is your grandmother?'

"'She is very well, thank you, ' said Alma, 'but she has a bad headache. '

"'I am very sorry to hear it, ' said the fox. 'Tell her to stick twofresh dock-leaves on her temples, and to drink a little weak tea madeof knot-grass, and on no account to go out in the hot sun. I shouldlike to go and see her, only I do not like the dogs being always aboutthe house. Give her my best respects. And now run home, Alma, and tryon the things, and when you are passing this way you can bring me backthe handkerchief, as I always tie my face up in it when I have thetoothache. '

"Alma thanked the fox very much and ran home as fast as she could, andwhen the bundle was opened she found in it a beautiful white dress, embroidered with purple flowers, a pair of scarlet shoes, silkstockings, and a string of great golden beads. They all fitted hervery well; and next day when the white mist was on the Yí she dressedherself in her beautiful clothes and went down to the river. By andby little Niebla came flying along, and when she saw Alma she came andkissed her and took her by the hand. All the morning they played andtalked together, gathering flowers and running races over the greensward: and at last Niebla bade her good-bye and flew away, for all thewhite mist was floating off down the river. But every day after thatAlma found her little companion by the Yí, and was very happy, for nowshe had someone to talk to and to play with. "

After I had finished the story Anita continued gazing into my facewith an absorbed expression in her large, wistful eyes. She seemedhalf scared, half delighted at what she had heard; but presently, before the little thing had said a word, Monica, who had been directingshy and wondering glances towards us for some time, came, and, takingher by the hand, led her away to bed. I was getting sleepy then, and, as the clatter of talk and warlike preparation showed no signs ofabating, I was glad to be shown into another room, where somesheep-skins, rugs, and a couple of _ponchos_ were given to me fora bed. 

During the night all the men took their departure, for in the morning, when I went into the kitchen, I only found the old woman and Alday'swife sipping bitter _maté_. The child, they informed me, haddisappeared from the house an hour before, and Monica had gone out tolook for her. Alday's wife was highly indignant at the little one'sescapade, for it was high time for Anita to go out with the flock. After taking _maté_ I went out, and, looking towards the Yí, veiled in asilvery mist, I spied Monica leading the culprit home bythe hand, and went to meet them. Poor little Anita! her face stainedwith tears, her little legs and feet covered with clay and scratchedby sharp reeds in fifty places, her dress soaking wet with the heavymist, looked a most pitiful object. 

"Where did you find her?" I asked the girl, beginning to fear that Ihad been the indirect cause of the poor child's misfortunes. 

"Down by the river looking for little Niebla. I knew she would be therewhen I missed her this morning. "

"How did you know that?" I asked. "You did not hear the story I toldher. "

"I made her repeat it all to me last night, " said Monica. 

After that little Anita was scolded, shaken, washed and dried, thenfed, and finally lifted on to the back of her pony and sent to takecare of the sheep. While undergoing this treatment she maintained aprofound silence, her little face puckered up into an expression thatboded tears. They were not for the public, however, and only after shewas on the pony, with the reins in her little mites of hands and herback towards us, did she give way to her grief and disappointment athaving failed to find the beautiful child of the mist. 

I was astonished to find that she had taken the fantastic little taleinvented to amuse her as truth; but the poor babe had never read booksor heard stories, and the fairy tale had been too much for her starvedlittle imagination. I remember that once on another occasion I tolda pathetic story of a little child, lost in a great wilderness, to agirl about Anita's age, and just as unaccustomed to this kind of mentalfare. Next morning her mother informed me that my little listener hadspent half the night sobbing and begging to be allowed to go and lookfor that lost child I had told her about. 

Hearing that Alday would not return till evening or till the followingday, I asked his wife to lend or give me a horse to proceed on myjourney. This, however, she could not do; then she added, verygraciously, that while all the men were away my presence in the housewould be a comfort to her, a man always being a great protection. Thearrangement did not strike me as one very advantageous to myself, but, as I could not journey very well to Montevideo on foot, I was compelledto sit still and wait for Alday's return. 

It was dull work talking to those two women in the kitchen. They wereboth great talkers, and had evidently come to a tacit agreement toshare their one listener fairly between them, for first one, then theother would speak with a maddening monotony. Alday's wife had sixfavourite, fine-sounding words--_elements, superior, division, prolongation, justification, _ and _disproportion_. One of theseshe somehow managed to drag into every sentence, and sometimes shesucceeded in getting in two. Whenever this happened the achievementmade her so proud that she would in the most deliberate cold-bloodedway repeat the sentence again, word for word. The strength of the oldwoman lay in dates. Not an occurrence did she mention, whether itreferred to some great public event or to some trivial domestic incidentin her own _rancho_, without giving the year, the month, and theday. The duet between these two confounded barrel-organs, one grindingout rhetoric, the other chronology, went on all the morning, and oftenI turned to Monica, sitting over her sewing, in hopes of a differenttune from her more melodious instrument, but in vain, for never a worddropped from those silent lips. Occasionally her dark, luminous eyeswere raised for a moment, only to sink abashed again when theyencountered mine. After breakfast I went for a walk along the river, where I spent several hours hunting for flowers and fossils, and amusingmyself as best I could. There were legions of duck, coot, rosyspoonbills, and black-necked swans disporting themselves in the water, and I was very thankful that I had no gun with me, and so was nottempted to startle them with rude noises, and send any of them awayto languish wounded amongst the reeds. At length, after having indulgedin a good swim, I set out to walk back to the _estancia_. 

When still about a mile from the house as I walked on, swinging mystick and singing aloud in lightness of heart, I passed a clump ofwillow-trees, and, looking up, saw Monica under them watching myapproach. She was standing perfectly motionless, and, when I caughtsight of her, cast her eyes demurely down, apparently to contemplateher bare feet, which looked very white on the deep green turf. In onehand she held a cluster of stalks of the large, crimson, autumnallilies which had just begun to blossom. My singing ceased suddenly, and I stood for some moments gazing admiringly at the shy, rusticbeauty. 

"What a distance you have walked to gather lilies, Monica!" I said, approaching her. "Will you give me one of your stalks?"

"They were gathered for the Virgin, so I cannot give away any of these, "she replied. "If you will wait here under the trees I will find oneto give you. "

I agreed to wait for her; then, placing the cluster she had gatheredon the grass, she left me. Before long she returned with a stalk, round, polished, slender, like a pipe-stem, and crowned with its clusterof three splendid crimson flowers. 

When I had sufficiently thanked her and admired it, I said, "What boonare you going to ask from the Virgin, Monica, when you offer her theseflowers--safety for your lover in the wars?"

"No, señor; I have no offering to make, and no boon to ask. They arefor my aunt; I offered to gather them for her, because--I wished tomeet you here. "

"To meet me, Monica--what for?"

"To ask for a story, señor, " she replied, colouring and with a shyglance at my face. 

"Ah, we have had stories enough, " I said. "Remember poor Anita runningaway this morning to look for a playmate in the wet mist. "

"She is a child; I am a woman. "

"Then, Monica, you must have a lover who will be jealous if you listento stories from a stranger's lips in this lonely spot. "

"No person will ever know that I met you here, " she returned--sobashful, yet so persistent. 

"I have forgotten all my stories, " I said. 

"Then, señor, I will go and find you another _ramo_ of lilieswhile you think of one to tell me. "

"No, " I said, "you must get no more lilies for me. Look, I will giveyou back these you gave me. " And, saying that, I fastened them in herblack hair, where by contrast they looked very splendid, and gave thegirl a new grace. "Ah, Monica, they make you look too pretty--let metake them out again. "

But she would not have them taken. "I will leave you now to think ofa story for me, " she said, blushing and turning away. 

Then I took her hands and made her face me. "Listen, Monica, " I said. "Do you know that these lilies are full of strange magic? See howcrimson they are; that is the colour of passion, for they have beensteeped in passion, and turn my heart to fire. If you bring me anymore of them, Monica, I shall tell you a story that will make youtremble with fear--tremble like the willow-leaves and turn pale as themist over the Yí. "

She smiled at my words; it was like a ray of sunlight falling throughthe foliage on her face. Then, in a voice that was almost a whisper, she said, "What will the story be about, señor? Tell me, then I shallknow whether to gather lilies for you or not. "

"It will be about a stranger meeting a sweet, pale girl standing underthe trees, her dark eyes cast down, and red lilies in her hand; andhow she asked him for a story, but he could speak to her of nothingbut love, love, love. "

When I finished speaking she gently withdrew her hands from mine andturned away amongst the trees, doubtless to fly from me, trembling atmy words, like a frightened young fawn from the hunter. 

So for a moment I thought. But no, there lay the lilies gathered fora religious purpose at my feet, and there was nothing reproachful inthe shy, dark eyes when they glanced back for a moment at me; for, inspite of those warning words, she had only gone to find more of thoseperilous crimson flowers to give me. 

Not then, while I waited for her return with palpitating heart, butafterwards in calmer moments, and when Monica had become a prettypicture in the past, did I compose the following lines. I am not sovain as to believe that they possess any great poetical merit, andintroduce them principally to let the reader know how to pronounce thepretty name of that Oriental river, which it still keeps in remembranceof a vanished race. 

 Standing silent, pale her face was, Pale and sweet to see: 'Neath the willows waiting for me, Willow-like was she, Smiling, blushing, trembling, bashful Maid of Yí. 

 Willow-like she trembled, yet she Never fled from me; But her dove-like eyes were downcast, On the grass to see White feet standing: white thy feet were, Maid of Yí. 

 Stalks of lilies in her hands were: Crimson lilies three, Placed I in her braids of black hair-- They were bright to see! Lift thy dark eyes, for I love thee, Maid of Yí!

CHAPTER XV

In the evening Alday returned with a couple of his friends, and, assoon as an opportunity offered, I took him aside and begged him to letme have a horse to continue my journey to Montevideo. He answeredevasively that the horse I had lost in the neighbouring forest wouldprobably be recovered in the course of two or three days. I repliedthat if he would let me have a horse, the one I had lost, togetherwith saddle, _poncho_, etc. , could be claimed by him wheneverthey turned up. He then said that he could not very well give me ahorse, "with saddle and bridle also. " It looked as if he wanted tokeep me in his house for some purpose of his own, and this made me allthe more determined to leave it immediately, in spite of the tender, reproachful glances which Monica flashed on me from under her long, drooping eyelashes. I told him that if I could not have a horse I wouldleave his _estancia_ on foot. That rather put him in a corner;for in this country, where horse-stealing and cheating at cards arelooked on as venial offenses, to let a man leave your _estancia_on foot is considered a very dishonourable thing. He pondered over mydeclaration for some minutes, then, after conferring with his friends, he promised to provide me with all I required next day. I had heardnothing more about the revolution, but after supper Alday suddenlybecame very confidential, and said that the whole country would be upin arms in the course of a very few days, and that it would be highlydangerous for me to attempt travelling by myself to the capital. Heexpatiated on the immense prestige of General Santa Coloma, who hadjust taken up arms against the Colorado party then in power, andconcluded by saying that my safest plan would be to join the rebels, and accompany them on their march to Montevideo which would beginalmost immediately. I replied that I took no interest in the dissensionsof the Banda Orientál, and did not wish to compromise myself by joininga military expedition of any kind. He shrugged his shoulders, and, renewing his promise of a horse next day, retired to rest. 

On rising next morning I found that the others were already up. Thehorses were standing saddled at the door, and Alday, pointing out avery fair-looking animal, informed me that it had been saddled for me, and then added that he and his friends would ride one or two leagueswith me to put me on the right road to Montevideo. He had suddenlybecome almost too kind, but in the simplicity of my heart I believedthat he was only making amends for the slight inhospitality of the daybefore. 

After partaking of bitter _maté_, I thanked my hostess, lookedmy last into Monica's dark, sorrowful eyes, lifted for one moment tomine, and kissed little Anita's pathetic face, by so doing filling thechild with astonishment and causing considerable amusement to the othermembers of the family. After we had ridden about four miles, keepingnearly parallel with the river, it struck me that we were not goingin the right direction--the right one for me, at any rate. I thereforechecked my horse and told my companions that I would not trouble themto ride with me any further. 

"My friend, " said Alday, approaching me, "you will, if you leave usnow, infallibly fall into the hands of some _partida_, who, findingyou without a passport, will take you to El Molino, or to some othercentre. Though it would make no difference if you had a passport, forthey would only tear it up and take you all the same. In thesecircumstances it is your safest plan to go with us to El Molino, whereGeneral Santa Coloma is collecting his forces, and you will then beable to explain your position to him. "

"I refuse to go to El Molino, " I said angrily, exasperated at histreachery. 

"You will then compel us to take you there, " he returned. 

I had no wish to become a prisoner again so soon, and, seeing that abold stroke was necessary to keep my liberty, I suddenly reined up myhorse and drew my revolver. "My friends, " I said, "your road lies inthatdirection; mine in this. I wish you good morning. "

I had scarcely finished speaking before a blow of a heavy whip-handledescended on my arm below the elbow, almost breaking it, and sendingme off my horse, while the revolver went spinning away a dozen yards. The blow had been dealt by one of Alday's two followers, who had justdropped a little to the rear, and the rascal certainly showed amarvellous quickness and dexterity in disabling me. 

Wild with rage and pain, I scrambled to my feet, and, drawing my knife, threatened to stab the first man who approached me; and then, inunmeasured language, I abused Alday for his cowardice and brutality. He only smiled and replied that he considered my youth, and thereforefelt no resentment against me for using such intemperate words. 

"And now, my friend, " he continued, after picking up my revolver andremounting his horse, "let us waste no more time, but hasten on to ElMolino, where you can state your case to the General. "

As I did not wish to be tied on to my horse and carried in thatunpleasant and ignominious manner, I had to obey. Climbing into thesaddle with some difficulty, we set out towards the village of ElMolino at a swinging gallop. The rough motion of the horse I rodeincreased the pain in my arm till it became intolerable; then one ofthe men mercifully bound it up in a sling, after which I was able totravel more comfortably, though still suffering a great deal. 

The day was excessively warm, and we did not reach our destinationtill about three o'clock in the afternoon. Just before entering thetown we rode through a little army of gauchos encamped on the adjacentplain. Some of them were engaged cooking meat, others were saddlinghorses, while others, in bodies of twenty or thirty, were going throughcavalry exercises, the whole making a scene of wonderful animation. Very nearly all the men wore the ordinary gaucho costume, and thosewho were exercising carried lances, to which were attached littlewhite, fluttering bannerets. Passing through the encampment, weclattered into the town, composed of about seventy or eighty housesof stone or mud, some thatched, others with tiled roofs, and everyhouse with a large garden attached to it. At the official buildingfacing the plaza a guard of ten men, armed with carbines, was stationed. We dismounted and went into the building, only to hear that the Generalhad just left the town, and was not expected back till the followingday. 

Alday spoke to an officer sitting at a table in the room we were showninto, addressing him as Major. He was a thin, elderly man, with calmgrey eyes and a colourless face, and looked like a gentleman. Afterhearing a few words from Alday, he turned to me and said courteouslythat he was sorry to tell me I should have to remain in El Molino tillthe General's return, when I could give an account of myself to him. 

"We do not, " he said in conclusion, "wish to compel any foreigner, orany Oriental even, to join our forces; but we are naturally suspiciousof strangers, having already caught two or three spies in theneighbourhood. Unfortunately you are not provided with a passport, andit is best that the General should see you. "

"Sir officer, " I replied, "by ill-treating and detaining an Englishmanyou are doing your cause no good. "

He answered that he was grieved that his people had found it necessaryto treat me roughly, for he put it in that mild way. Everything, hesaid, short of liberating me, would be done to make my sojourn in ElMolino pleasant. 

"If it is necessary that the General should see me himself before Ican have my liberty, pray let these men take me to him at once, " Isaid. 

"He has not yet left El Molino, " said an orderly, standing in the room. 

"He is at the end of the town at the Casa Blanca, and does not leavetill half-past three. "

"It is nearly that now, " said the officer, consulting his watch. "Takehim to the General at once, Lieutenant Alday. "

I thanked the officer, who had looked and spoken so unlike arevolutionary bandit, and, as soon as I had succeeded in clamberingon to my horse, we were once more dashing along the main street at afast gallop. We drew up before a large, old-looking stone house at theend of the town, standing some distance back from the road, and screenedfrom it by a double row of tall Lombardy poplars. The back of the housewas towards the road, and, passing round to the front after leavingour horses at the gate, we entered a spacious _patio_, or yard. Running along the front of the dwelling was a wide corridor, supportedby wooden pillars, painted white, while the whole of the _patio_was shaded by an immense grape-vine. This was evidently one of thebest houses in the place, and, coming directly from the glaring sunand the white, dusty road, the vine-shaded _patio_ and corridorlooked delightfully cool and inviting. A gay company of twelve orfifteen people were gathered under the corridor, some sipping_maté_, others sucking grapes; and when we came on the scene ayoung lady was just finishing a song she was singing. I at once singledout General Santa Coloma, sitting by the young lady with the guitar--atall, imposing man, with somewhat irregular features, and a bronzed, weather-beaten face. He was booted and spurred, and over his uniformwore a white silk _poncho_ with purple fringe. I judged from hiscountenance that he was not a stern or truculent man, as one expectsa Caudillo--a leader of men--in the Banda Orientál to be: and, remembering that in a few minutes he would be leaving the house, I wasanxious to push forward and state my case to him. The others, however, prevented me, for the General just then happened to be engaged in avivacious conversation with the young lady sitting by him. When I hadonce looked attentively at this girl I had eyes for no other facethere. The type was Spanish, and I have never seen a more perfect faceof the kind; a wealth of blue-black hair shading the low, broadforehead, straight nose, dark, luminous eyes, and crimson, poutinglips. She was tall, perfect in her figure as in her face, and wore awhite dress with a deep red China rose on her bosom for only ornament. Standing there unnoticed at the end of the corridor, I gazed with akind of fascination on her, listening to her light, rippling laughterand lively talk, watching her graceful gestures, her sparkling eyes, and damask cheeks flushed with excitement. Here is a woman, I thoughtwith a sigh--I felt a slight twinge at that disloyal sigh--I couldhave worshipped. She was pressing the guitar on the General. 

"You have promised to sing one song before you go, and I cannot letyou off, " she exclaimed. 

At length he took the instrument, protesting that his voice was a verybad one; then, sweeping the strings, began that fine old Spanish songof love and war:

 "_Cuando suena la trompa guerrera_. "

His voice was uncultivated and somewhat harsh, but there was a gooddeal of fire and expression in the performance, and it was rapturouslyapplauded. 

The moment the song was over he handed her back the guitar, and, starting up hastily, bade the company adieu, and turned to go. 

Coming forward, I placed myself before him and began to speak. 

"I am pressed for time and cannot listen to you now, " he said quickly, scarcely glancing at me. "You are a prisoner--wounded, I see; well, when I return--" Suddenly he stopped, caught hold of my wounded arm, and said, "How did you get hurt? Tell me quickly. "

His sharp, impatient manner, and the sight of twenty people all standinground staring at me, quite upset me, and I could only stammer out afew unintelligible words, feeling that my face was blushing scarletto the very roots of my hair. 

"Let me tell you, General, " said Alday, advancing. 

"No, no, " said the General; "he shall speak. "

The sight of Alday so eager to give his version of the affair firstrestored my anger to me, and with that came back the power of speechand the other faculties which I had lost for a moment. 

"Sir General, all I have to say is this, " I said; "I came to this man'shouse at night, a stranger, lost, on foot, for my horse had been stolenfrom me. I asked him for shelter in the belief that at least the onevirtue of hospitality still survives in this country. He, assisted bythese two men, treacherously disabled me with a blow on my arm anddragged me here a prisoner. "

"My good friend, " said the General, "I am extremely sorry that youhave been hurt through an excess of zeal on the part of one of mypeople. But I can scarcely regret this incident, painful as it seems, since it enables me to assure you that one other virtue besideshospitality still survives in the Banda Orientál--I mean gratitude. "

"I do not understand you, " I said. 

"We were companions in misfortune a very short time ago, " he returned. "Have you forgotten the service you did me then?"

I stared at him, astonished at his words; and while I looked into hisface, suddenly that scene at the magistrate's _estancia_, whenI went with the key to let my fellow-traveller out of the stocks, andhe jumped up and seized my hand, flashed on me. Still I was not quitesure, and half whispered tentatively, "What, Marcos Marcó?"

"Yes, " he returned, smiling, "that was my name at that moment. Myfriends, " he continued, resting a hand on my shoulder, and speakingto the others, "I have met this young Englishman before. A few daysago, when I was on my way hither, I was arrested at Las Cuevas in hiscompany; it was by means of his assistance that I succeeded in makingmy escape. He did this good deed, believing at the time that he washelping a poor peasant, and not expecting any return. "

I might have reminded him that only after he had given me a solemnassurance that he did not intend attempting to make his escape, didI consent to get his legs out of the stocks. However, as he thoughtproper to forget that part of the affair I was not going to recall itto him. 

There were many surprised exclamations from the bystanders, and, glancing at that beautiful girl, who was standing near with the others, I found her dark eyes fixed on my face with an expression of tendernessand sympathy in them that sent the blood rushing to my heart. 

"They have hurt you badly, I fear, " said the General, addressing meagain. "To continue your journey now would be imprudent. Let me begof you to remain where you are, in this house, till your arm is better. "Then, turning to the young lady, he said, "Dolores, will you and yourmother take charge of my young friend till I return, and see that hisinjured arm is attended to?"

"My General, you will make us happy by leaving him in our care, " shereplied, with a bright smile. 

He then introduced me as Don Ricardo simply--for he did not know mysurname--to the lovely señorita, Dolores Zelaya; after which he againbade us adieu and hurried away. 

When he had gone, Alday advanced, hat in hand, and gave me back myrevolver, which I had forgotten all about. I took it with my left hand, and put it in my pocket. He then apologised for having treated meroughly--the Major had taught him that word--but without the faintesttrace of servility in his speech or manner; and after that he offeredme his hand. 

"Which will you have, " I said, "the hand you have injured or the lefthand?"

He immediately dropped his own hand to his side, then, bowing, saidhe would wait till I had recovered the use of my right hand. Turningto go, he added with a smile that he hoped the injury would soon heal, so that I would be able to wield a sword in my friend Santa Coloma'scause. 

His manner, I thought, was a little too independent. "Pray take backyour horse now, " I said, "as I have no further use for it, and acceptmy thanks for conducting me thus far on my journey. "

"Do not mention it, " he replied, with a dignified wave of his hand. "I am pleased to have been able to render you this small service. "

CHAPTER XVI

When Alday had left us, the charming señorita, in whose care I waswell pleased to find myself, led me into a cool, spacious room, dimlylighted, scantily furnished, and with a floor of red tiles. It was agreat relief to drop into a sofa there, for I now felt fatigued andsuffered great pain from my arm. In a few moments I had the señorita, her mother, Doña Mercedes, and an old serving-woman all round me. Gently drawing off my coat, they subjected my wounded arm to a minuteexamination; their compassionate finger-tips--those of the lovelyDolores especially--feeling like a soft, cooling rain on the swollen, inflamed part, which had become quite purple. 

"Ah, how barbarous of them to hurt you like that! a friend, too, ofour General!" exclaimed my beautiful nurse; which made me think thatI had involuntarily become associated with the right political partyin the State. 

They rubbed the arm with sweet oil; while the old servant brought ina bundle of rue from the garden, which, being bruised in a mortar, filled the room with a fresh, aromatic smell. With this fragrant herbshe made a cooling cataplasm. Having dressed my arm, they placed itin a sling, then in place of my coat a light Indian _poncho_ wasbrought for me to wear. 

"I think you are feverish, " said Doña Mercedes, feeling my pulse. "Wemust send for the doctor--we have a doctor in our little town, a veryskilful man. "

"I have little faith in doctors, señora, " I said, "but great faith inwomen and grapes. If you will give me a cluster from your vine torefresh my blood I promise to be well very soon. "

Dolores laughed lightly and left the room, only to return in a fewminutes with a dish full of ripe, purple clusters. They were delicious, and did seem to allay the fever I felt, which had probably been causedas much by angry passions as by the blow I had received. 

While I reclined luxuriously, sucking my grapes, the two ladies saton each side of me, ostensibly fanning themselves, but only, I think, trying to make the air cooler for me. Very cool and pleasant they madeit, certainly, but the gentle attentions of Dolores were at the sametime such as might well create a subtler kind of fever in a man'sveins--a malady not to be cured by fruit, fans, or phlebotomy. 

"Who would not suffer blows for such compensation as this!" I said. 

"Do not say such a thing!" exclaimed the señorita, with wonderfulanimation. "Have you not rendered a great service to our dearGeneral--to our beloved country! If we had it in our power to give youeverything your heart might desire it would be nothing, nothing. Wemust be your debtors for ever. "

I smiled at her extravagant words, but they were very sweet to hear, none the less. 

"Your ardent love of your country is a beautiful sentiment, " I remarkedsomewhat indiscreetly, "but is General Santa Coloma so necessary toits welfare?"

She looked offended and did not reply. "You are a stranger in ourcountry, señor, and do not quite understand these things, " said themother gently. "Dolores must not forget that. You know nothing of thecruel wars we have seen and how our enemies have conquered only bybringing in the foreigner to their aid. Ah, señor, the bloodshed, theproscriptions, the infamies which they have brought on this land! Butthere is one man they have never yet succeeded in crushing: alwaysfrom boyhood he has been foremost in the fight, defying their bullets, and not to be corrupted by their Brazilian gold. Is it strange thathe is so much to us, who have lost all our relations, and have sufferedmany persecutions, being deprived almost of the means of subsistencethat hirelings and traitors might be enriched with our property? Tous in this house he is even more than to others. He was my husband'sfriend and companion in arms. He has done us a thousand favours, and ifhe ever succeeds in overthrowing this infamous government he will restoreto us all the property we have lost. But _ai de mi_, I cannot seedeliverance yet. "

"_Mamita, _ do not say such a thing!" exclaimed her daughter. "Doyou begin to despair now when there is most reason to hope?"

"Child, what can he do with this handful of ill-armed men?" returnedthe mother sadly. "He has bravely raised the standard, but the peopledo not flock to it. Ah, when this revolt is crushed, like so manyothers, we poor women will only have to lament for more friends slainand fresh persecutions. " And here she covered her eyes with herhandkerchief. 

Dolores tossed her head back and made a sudden gesture of impatience. 

"Do you, then, expect to see a great army formed before the ink is dryon the General's proclamation? When Santa Coloma was a fugitive withouta follower you hoped; now when he is with us, and actually preparingfor a march on the capital, you begin to lose heart--I cannot understandit!"

Doña Mercedes rose without replying, and left the room. The lovelyenthusiast dropped her head on her hand, and remained silent, takingno notice of me, a cloud of sorrow on her countenance. 

"Señorita, " I said, "it is not necessary for you to remain longer here. Only tell me before going that you forgive me, for it makes me veryunhappy to think that I have offended you. "

She turned to me with a very bright smile and gave me her hand. 

"Ah, it is for you to forgive me for hastily taking offence at a lightword, " she said. "I must not allow anything you say in future to spoilmy gratitude. Do you know I think you are one of those who like tolaugh at most things, señor--no, let me call you Richard, and you shallcall me Dolores, for we must remain friends always. Let us make acompact, then it will be impossible for us to quarrel. You shall befree to doubt, question, laugh at everything, except one thing only--myfaith in Santa Coloma. "

"Yes, I will gladly make that agreement, " I replied. "It will be a newkind of paradise, and of the fruit of every tree I may eat except ofthis tree only. "

She laughed gaily. 

"I will now leave you, " she said. "You are suffering pain, and arevery tired. Perhaps you will be able to sleep. " While speaking shebrought a second cushion for my head, then left me, and before longI fell into a refreshing doze. 

I spent three days of enforced idleness at the Casa Blanca, as thehouse was called, before Santa Coloma returned, and after the roughexperience I had undergone, during which I had subsisted on a fleshdiet untempered by bread or vegetables, they were indeed like daysspent in paradise to me. Then the General came back. I was sittingalone in the garden when he arrived, and, coming out to me, he greetedme warmly. 

"I greatly feared from my previous experience of your impatience underrestraint that you might have left us, " he said kindly. 

"I could not do that very well yet, without a horse to ride on, " Ireturned. 

"Well, I came here just now to say I wish to present you with a horseand saddle. The horse is standing at the gate now, I believe; but, ifyou are only waiting for a horse to leave us I shall have to regretmaking you this present. Do not be in a hurry; you have yet many yearsto live in which to accomplish all you wish to do, and let us have thepleasure of your company a few days longer. Doña Mercedes and herdaughter desire nothing better than to keep you with them. "

I promised him not to run away immediately, a promise which was nothard to make; then we went to inspect my horse, which proved to be avery fine bay, saddled with a dashing native _recado_. 

"Come with me and try him, " he said. "I am going to ride out to theCerro Solo. "

The ride proved an extremely pleasant one, as I had not mounted a horsefor some days, and had been longing to spice my idle hours with alittle exhilarating motion. We went at a swinging gallop over thegrassy plain, the General all the time discoursing freely of his plansand of the brilliant prospects awaiting all those timely-wiseindividuals who should elect to link their fortunes with his at thisearly stage of the campaign. 

The Cerro, three leagues distant from the village of El Molino, wasa high, conical hill standing quite alone and overlooking the countryfor a vast distance around. A few well-mounted men were stationed onthe summit, keeping watch; and, after talking with them for a while, the General led me to a spot a hundred yards away, where there was alarge mound of sand and stone, up which we made our horses climb withsome difficulty. While we stood here he pointed out the conspicuousobjects on the surface of the surrounding country, telling me the namesof the _estancias_, rivers, distant hills, and other things. Thewhole country about us seemed very familiar to him. He ceased speakingat length, but continued gazing over the wide, sunlit prospect witha strange, far-off look on his face. Suddenly dropping the reins onthe neck of his horse, he stretched out his arms towards the south andbegan to murmur words which I could not catch, while an expression ofmingled fury and exultation transformed his face. It passed away assuddenly as it came. Then he dismounted, and, stooping till his kneetouched the ground, he kissed the rock before him, after which he satdown and quietly invited me to do the same. Returning to the subjecthe had talked about during our ride, he began openly pressing me tojoin him in his march to Montevideo, which, he said, would begin almostimmediately, and would infallibly result in a victory, after which hewould reward me for the incalculable service I had rendered him inassisting him to escape from the Juez of Las Cuevas. These temptingoffers, which would have fired my brain in other circumstances--thesingle state, I mean--I felt compelled to decline, though I did notstate my real reasons for doing so. He shrugged his shoulders in theeloquent Oriental fashion, remarking that it would not surprise himif I altered my resolution in a few days. 

"Never!" I mentally ejaculated. 

Then he recalled our first meeting again, spoke of Margarita, thatmarvellously beautiful child, asking if I had not thought it strangeso fair a flower as that should have sprung from the homely stalk ofa sweet potato? I answered that I had been surprised at first, but hadceased to believe that she was a child of Batata's, or of any of hiskin. He then offered to tell me Margarita's history; and I was notsurprised to hear that he knew it. 

"I owe you this, " he said, "in expiation of the somewhat offensiveremarks I addressed to you that day in reference to the girl. But youmust remember that I was then only Marcos Marcó, a peasant, and, havingsome slight knowledge of acting, it was only natural that my speechshould be, as you find it in our common people, somewhat dry andironical. 

"Many years ago there lived in this country one Basilio de la Barca, a person of so noble a figure and countenance that to all those whobeheld him he became the type of perfect beauty, so that a 'Basiliode la Barca' came to be a proverbial expression in Montevidean societywhen anyone surpassingly handsome was spoken of. Though he had a gay, light-hearted disposition and loved social pleasures, he was not spoiltby the admiration his beauty excited. Simple-minded and modest heremained always; though perhaps not capable of any very strong passion, for though he won, without seeking it, the hearts of many fair women, he did not marry. He might have married some rich woman to improve hisposition had he been so minded, but in this, as in everything else inhis life, Basilio appeared to be incapable of doing anything to advancehis own fortunes. The de la Barcas had once possessed great wealth inland in the country, and, I have heard, descended from an ancient noblefamily of Spain. During the long, disastrous wars this country hassuffered, when it was conquered in turn by England, Portugal, Spain, Brazil, and the Argentines, the family became impoverished, and atlast appeared to be dying out. The last of the de la Barcas was Basilio, and the evil destiny which had pursued all of that name for so manygenerations did not spare him. His whole life was a series ofcalamities. When young he entered the army, but in his first engagementhe received a terrible wound which disabled him for life and compelledhim to abandon the military career. After that he embarked all hislittle fortune in commerce, and was ruined by a dishonest partner. Atlength when he had been reduced to great poverty, being then aboutforty years old, he married an old woman out of gratitude for thekindness she had shown to him; and with her he went to live on thesea-coast, several leagues east of Cabo Santa Maria. Here in a small_rancho_ in a lonely spot called Barranca del Peregrine, and withonly a few sheep and cows to subsist on, he spent the remainder of hislife. His wife, though old, bore him one child, a daughter, namedTransita. They taught her nothing; for in all respects they lived likepeasants and had forgotten the use of books. The situation was alsowild and solitary, and they very seldom saw a strange face. Transitaspent her childhood in rambling over the dunes on that lonely coast, with only wild flowers, birds, and the ocean waves for playmates. Oneday, her age being then about eleven, she was at her usual pastimes, her golden hair blowing in the wind, her short dress and bare legs wetwith the spray, chasing the waves as they retired, or flying with merryshouts from them as they hurried back towards the shore, flinging acloud of foam over her retreating form, when a youth, a boy of fifteen, rode up and saw her there. He was hunting ostriches, when, losing sightof his companions, and finding himself near the ocean, he rode downto the shore to watch the tide coming in. 

"Yes, I was that boy, Richard--you are quick in making conclusions. "This he said not in reply to any remark I had made, but to my thoughts, which he frequently guessed very aptly. 

"The impression this exquisite child made on me it would be impossibleto convey in words. I had lived much in the capital, had been educatedin our best college, and was accustomed to associate with pretty women. I had also crossed the water and had seen all that was most worthy ofadmiration in the Argentine cities. And remember that with us a youthof fifteen already knows something of life. This child, playing withthe waves, was like nothing I had seen before. I regarded her not asa mere human creature; she seemed more like some being from I know notwhat far-off celestial region who had strayed to earth, just as a birdof white and azure plumage, and unknown to our woods, sometimes appears, blown hither from a distant tropical country or island, filling thosewho see it with wonder and delight. Imagine, if you can, Margaritawith her shining hair loose to the winds, swift and graceful in hermotions as the waves she plays with, her sapphire eyes sparkling likesunlight on the waters, the tender tints of the sea-shell in herever-changing countenance, with a laughter that seems to echo the wildmelody of the sandpiper's note. Margarita has inherited the form, notthe spirit, of the child Transita. She is an exquisite statue endowedwith life. Transita, with lines equally graceful and colours just asperfect, had caught the spirit of the wind and sunshine and was allfreedom, motion, fire--a being half human, half angelic. I saw heronly to love her; nor was it a common passion she inspired in me. Iworshipped her, and longed to wear her on my bosom; but I shrank thenand for a long time after from breathing the hot breath of love on sotender and heavenly a blossom. I went to her parents and opened myheart to them. My family being well known to Basilio, I obtained hisconsent to visit their lonely _rancho_ whenever I could; and I, on my part, promised not to speak of love to Transita till her sixteenthyear. Three years after I had found Transita, I was ordered to a distantpart of the country, for I was already in the army then, and, fearingthat it would not be possible for me to visit them for a long time, I persuaded Basilio to let me speak to his daughter, who was nowfourteen. She had by this time grown extremely fond of me, and shealways looked forward with delight to my visits, when we would spenddays together rambling along the shore, or seated on some cliffoverlooking the sea, talking of the simple things she knew, and ofthat wonderful, far-away city life of which she was never tired ofhearing. When I opened my heart to her she was at first frightened atthese new strange emotions I spoke of. Soon, however, I was made happyby seeing her fear grow less. In one day she ceased to be a child; therich blood mantled her cheeks, to leave her the next moment pale andtremulous; her tender lips were toying with the rim of the honeyedcup. Before I left her she had promised me her hand, and at partingeven clung to me, with her beautiful eyes wet with tears. 

"Three years passed before I returned to seek her. During that timeI sent scores of letters to Basilio, but received no reply. Twice Iwas wounded in fight, once very seriously. I was also a prisoner forseveral months. I made my escape at last, and, returning to Montevideo, obtained leave of absence. Then, with heart afire with sweetanticipations, I sought that lonely sea-coast once more, only to findthe weeds growing on the spot where Basilio's _rancho_ had stood. In the neighbourhood I learnt that he had died two years before, andthat after his death the widow had returned to Montevideo with Transita. After long inquiry in that city I discovered that she had not longsurvived her husband, and that a foreign señora, had taken Transitaaway, no one knew whither. Her loss cast a great shadow on my life. Poignant grief cannot endure for ever, nor for very long; only thememory of grief endures. To this memory, which cannot fade, it isperhaps due that in one respect at least I am not like other men. Ifeel that I am incapable of passion for any woman. No, not if a newLucrezia Borgia were to come my way, scattering the fiery seeds ofadoration upon all men, could they blossom to love in this arid heart. Since I lost Transita I have had one thought, one love, one religion, and it is all told in one word--_Patria_. 

"Years passed. I was captain in General Oribe's army at the siege ofmy own city. One day a lad was captured in our lines, and came verynear being put to death as a spy. He had come out from Montevideo, andwas looking for me. He had been sent, he said, by Transita de la Barca, who was lying ill in the town, and desired to speak to me before shedied. I asked and obtained permission from our General, who had astrong personal friendship for me, to penetrate into the town. Thiswas, of course, dangerous, and more so for me, perhaps, than it wouldhave been for many of my brother officers, for I was very well knownto the besieged. I succeeded, however, by persuading the officers ofa French sloop of war, stationed in the harbour, to assist me. Theseforeigners at that time had friendly relations with the officers ofboth armies, and three of them had at one time visited our General toask him to let them hunt ostriches in the interior. He passed them onto me, and, taking them to my own _estancia_, I entertained themand hunted with them for several days. For this hospitality they hadexpressed themselves very grateful, inviting me repeatedly to visitthem on board, and also saying that they would gladly do me any personalservice in the town, which they visited constantly. I love not theFrench, believing them to be the most vain and egotistical, consequentlythe least chivalrous, of mankind; but these officers were in my debt, and I resolved to ask them to help me. Under cover of night I went onboard their ship; I told them my story, and asked them to take me onshore with them disguised as one of themselves. With some difficultythey consented, and I was thus enabled next day to be in Montevideoand with my long-lost Transita. I found her lying on her bed, emaciatedand white as death, in the last stage of some fatal pulmonary complaint. On the bed with her was a child between two and three years old, exceedingly beautiful like her mother, for one glance was sufficientto tell me it was Transita's child. Overcome with grief at finding herin this pitiful condition, I could only kneel at her side, pouring outthe last tender tears that have fallen from these eyes. We Orientalsare not tearless men, and I have wept since then, but only with rageand hatred. My last tears of tenderness were shed over unhappy, dyingTransita. 

"Briefly she told me her story. No letter from me had ever reachedBasilio; it was supposed that I had fallen in battle, or that my hearthad changed. When her mother lay dying in Montevideo she was visitedby a wealthy Argentine lady named Romero, who had heard of Transita'ssingular beauty, and wished to see her merely out of curiosity. Shewas so charmed with the girl that she offered to take her and bringher up as her own daughter. To this the mother, who was reduced to thegreatest poverty and was dying, consented gladly. Transita was in thisway taken to Buenos Ayres, where she had masters to instruct her, andlived in great splendour. The novelty of this life charmed her for atime; the pleasures of a large city, and the universal admiration herbeauty excited, occupied her mind and made her happy. When she wasseventeen the Señora Romero bestowed her hand on a young man of thatcity, named Andrada, a wealthy person. He was a fashionable man, agambler, and a Sybarite, and, having conceived a violent passion forthe girl, he succeeded in winning over the señora to aid his suit. Before marrying him Transita told him frankly that she felt incapableof great affection for him; he cared nothing for that, he only wished, like the animal he was, to possess her for her beauty. Shortly aftermarrying her he took her to Europe, knowing very well that a man witha full purse, and whose spirit is a compound of swine and goat, findslife pleasanter in Paris than in the Plata. In Paris Transita liveda gay, but an unhappy life. Her husband's passion for her soon passedaway, and was succeeded by neglect and insult. After three miserableyears he abandoned her altogether to live with another woman, and then, in broken health, she returned with her child to her own country. Whenshe had been several months in Montevideo she heard casually that Iwas still alive and in the besieging army; and, anxious to impart herlast wishes to a friend, had sent for me. 

"Could you, my friend, could any man, divine the nature of that dyingrequest Transita wished to make?

"Pointing to her child, she said, 'Do you not see that Margaritainherits that fatal gift of beauty which won for me a life of splendour, with extreme bitterness of heart and early death? Soon, before I die, perhaps, there will not be wanting some new señora Romero to takecharge of her, who will at last sell her to some rich, cruel man, asI was sold; for how can her beauty remain long concealed? It was withvery different views for her that I secretly left Paris and returnedhere. During all the miserable years I spent there I thought more andmore of my childhood on that lonely coast, until, when I fell ill, Iresolved to go back there to spend my last days on that beloved spotwhere I had been so happy. It was my intention to find some peasantfamily there who would be willing to take Margarita and bring her upas a peasant's child, with no knowledge of her father's position andof the life men live in towns. The siege and my failing health madeit impossible for me to carry out that plan. I must die here, dearfriend, and never see that lonely coast where we have sat together sooften watching the waves. But I think only of poor little Margaritanow, who will soon be motherless: will you not help me to save her?Promise me that you will take her away to some distant place, whereshe will be brought up as a peasant's child, and where her father willnever find her. If you can promise me this, I will resign her to younow, and face death without even the sad consolation of seeing her byme to the last. '

"I promised to carry out her wishes, and also to see the child as oftenas circumstances would allow, and when she grew up to find her a goodhusband. But I would not deprive her of the child then. I told herthat if she died, Margarita would be conveyed to the French ship inthe harbour, and afterwards to me, and that I knew where to place herwith good-hearted, simple peasants who loved me, and would obey mywishes in all things. 

"She was satisfied, and I left her to make the necessary arrangementsto carry out my plans. A few weeks later Transita expired, and thechild was brought to me. I then sent her to Batata's house, where, ignorant of the secret of her birth, she has been brought up as hermother wished her to be. May she never, like the unhappy Transita, fall into the power of a ravening beast in man's shape. "

"Amen!" I exclaimed. "But surely, if this child will be entitled toa fortune some day, it will only be right that she should have it. "

"We do not worship gold in this country, " he replied. "With us thepoor are just as happy as the rich, their wants are so few, and easilysatisfied. It would be too much to say that I love the child more thanI love anyone else; I think only of Transita's wishes; that for me isthe only right in the matter. Had I failed to carry them out to theletter, then I should have suffered a great remorse. Possibly I mayencounter Andrada some day, and pass my sword through his body; thatwould give me no remorse. "

After some moments of silence he looked up and said, "Richard, youadmired and loved that beautiful girl when you first saw her. Listen, if you wish it you shall have her for a wife. She is simple-minded, ignorant of the world, affectionate, and where she is told to love shewill love. Batata's people will obey my wishes in everything. "

I shook my head, smiling somewhat sorrowfully when I thought that theevents of the last few days had already half obliterated Margarita'sfair image from my mind. This unexpected proposition had, moreover, forced on me, with a startling suddenness, the fact that by onceperforming the act of marriage a man has for ever used up the mostglorious privilege of his sex--of course, I mean in countries wherehe is only allowed to have one wife. It was no longer in my power tosay to any woman, however charming I might find her, "Be my wife. " ButI did not explain all this to the General. 

"Ah, you are thinking of conditions, " said he; "there will be none. "

"No, you have guessed wrong--for once, " I returned. "The girl is allyou say; I have never seen a being more beautiful, and I have neverheard a more romantic story than the one you have just told me abouther birth. I can only echo your prayer that she may not suffer as hermother did. In name she is not a de la Barca, and perhaps destiny willspare her on that account. "

He glanced keenly at me and smiled. "Perhaps you are thinking more ofDolores than of Margarita just now, " he said. "Let me warn you of yourdanger there, my young friend. She is already promised to another. "

Absurdly unreasonable as it may seem, I felt a jealous pang at thatinformation; but then, of course, we are _not_ reasonable beings, whatever the philosophers say. 

I laughed, not very gaily, I must confess, and answered that there wasno need to warn me, as Dolores would never be more to me than a verydear friend. 

Even then I did not tell him that I was a married man; for often inthe Banda Orientál I did not quite seem to know how to mix my truthand lies, and so preferred to hold my tongue. In this instance, assubsequent events proved, I held it not wisely but too well. The openman, with no secrets from the world, often enough escapes disasterswhich overtake your very discreet person, who acts on the old adagethat speech was given to us to conceal our thoughts. 

CHAPTER XVII

With a horse to travel on, and my arm so much better that the slingsupporting it was worn rather for ornament than use, there was nothingexcept that promise not to run away immediately to detain me longerin the pleasant retreat of the Casa Blanca; nothing, that is, had Ibeen a man of gutta-percha or cast-iron; being only a creature ofclay--very impressionable clay as it happened--I could not persuademyself that I was quite well enough to start on that long ride overa disturbed country. Besides, my absence from Montevideo had alreadylasted so long that a few days more could not make much difference oneway or the other; thus it came to pass that I still stayed on, enjoyingthe society of my new friends, while every day, every hour in fact, I felt less able to endure the thought of tearing myself away fromDolores. 

Much of my time was spent in the pleasant orchard adjoining the house. Here, growing in picturesque irregularity, were fifty or sixty oldpeach, nectarine, apricot, plum, and cherry trees, their boles doublethe thickness of a man's thigh; they had never been disfigured by thepruner's knife or saw, and their enormous size and rough bark, overgrownwith grey lichen, gave them an appearance of great antiquity. All aboutthe ground, tangled together in a pretty confusion, flourished manyof those dear familiar Old World garden flowers that spring up roundthe white man's dwelling in all temperate regions of the earth. Herewere immemorial wallflowers, stocks and marigolds, tall hollyhock, gaypoppy, brilliant bachelor's button; also, half hid amongst the grass, pansy and forget-me-not. The larkspur, red, white, and blue, flauntedeverywhere; and here, too, was the unforgotten sweet-william, lookingbright and velvety as of yore, yet, in spite of its brightness andstiff, green collar, still wearing the old shame-faced expression, asif it felt a little ashamed of its own pretty name. These flowers werenot cultivated, but grew spontaneously from the seed they shed yearby year on the ground, the gardener doing nothing for them beyondkeeping the weeds down and bestowing a little water in hot weather. The solstitial heats being now over, during which European gardenflowers cease to bloom for a season, they were again in gayest liveryto welcome the long second spring of autumn, lasting from February toMay. At the farther end of this wilderness of flowers and fruit treeswas an aloe hedge, covering a width of twenty to thirty yards with itsenormous, disorderly, stave-like leaves. This hedge was like a stripof wild nature placed alongside of a plot of man's improved nature;and here, like snakes hunted from the open, the weeds and wildingswhich were not permitted to mix with the flowers had taken refuge. Protected by that rude bastion of spikes, the hemlock opened featheryclusters of dark leaves and whitish umbels wherever it could reach upto the sunshine. There also grew the nightshade, with other solanaceousweeds, bearing little clusters of green and purple berries, wild oats, fox-tail grass, and nettles. The hedge gave them shelter, but nomoisture, so that all these weeds and grasses had a somewhat forlornand starved appearance, climbing up with long stringy stems among thepowerful aloes. The hedge was also rich in animal life. There dweltmice, cavies, and elusive little lizards; crickets sang all day longunder it, while in every open space the green _epeiras_ spreadtheir geometric webs. Being rich in spiders, it was a favouritehunting-ground of those insect desperadoes, the mason-wasps, that flewabout loudly buzzing in their splendid gold and scarlet uniform. Therewere also many little shy birds here, and my favourite was the wren, for in its appearance and its scolding, jerky, gesticulating ways itis precisely like our house-wren, though it has a richer and morepowerful song than the English bird. On the other side of the hedgewas the _potrero_, or paddock, where a milch-cow with two or threehorses were kept. The manservant, whose name was Nepomucino, presidedover orchard and paddock, also to some extent over the entireestablishment. Nepomucino was a pure negro, a little old round-headed, blear-eyed man, about five feet four in height, the short lumpy woolon his head quite grey; slow in speech and movements, his old blackor chocolate-coloured fingers all crooked, stiff-jointed, and pointingspontaneously in different directions. I have never seen anything inthe human subject to equal the dignity of Nepomucino, the profoundgravity of his bearing and expression forcibly reminding one of anowl. Apparently he had come to look upon himself as the sole head andmaster of the establishment, and the sense of responsibility had morethan steadied him. The negrine propensity to frequent explosions ofinconsequent laughter was not, of course, to be expected in such asober-minded person; but he was, I think, a little too sedate for ablack, for, although his face would shine on warm days like polishedebony, it did not smile. Everyone in the house conspired to keep upthe fiction of Nepomucino's importance; they had, in fact, conspiredso long and so well, that it had very nearly ceased to be a fiction. Everybody addressed him with grave respect. Not a syllable of his longname was ever omitted--what the consequences of calling him Nepo, orCino, or Cinito, the affectionate diminutive, would have been I amunable to say, since I never had the courage to try the experiment. It often amused me to hear Doña Mercedes calling to him from the house, and throwing the whole emphasis on the last syllable in a long, piercingcrescendo: "Ne--po--mu--ci--no--o. " Sometimes, when I sat in theorchard, he would come, and, placing himself before me, discoursegravely about things in general, clipping his words and substitutingr for l in the negro fashion, which made it hard for me to repress asmile. After winding up with a few appropriate moral reflections hewould finish with the remark: "For though I am black on the surface, señor, my heart is white"; and then he would impressively lay one ofhis old crooked fingers on the part where the physiological curiositywas supposed to be. He did not like being told to perform menialoffices, preferring to anticipate all requests of that kind and dowhatever was necessary by stealth. Sometimes I would forget thispeculiarity of the old black, and tell him that I wanted him to polishmy boots. He would ignore the request altogether, and talk for a fewminutes of political matters, or on the uncertainty of all thingsmundane, and by and by, glancing at my boots, would remark incidentallythat they required polishing, offering somewhat ostentatiously to havethem done for me. Nothing would make him admit that he did these thingshimself. Once I tried to amuse Dolores by mimicking his speech to her, but quickly she silenced me, saying that she loved Nepomucino too wellto allow even her best friend to laugh at him. He had been born whenblacks were slaves in the service of her family, had carried her inhis arms when she was an infant, and had seen all the male members ofthe house of Zelaya swept away in the wars of Reds and Whites; but inthe days of their adversity his faithful, dog-like affection had neverfailed them. It was beautiful to see her manner towards him. If shewanted a rose for her hair or dress she would not pluck it herself orallow me to get it for her, but Nepomucino must be asked to get it. Then every day she would find time to sit down in the garden by hisside to tell him all the news of the village and of the country atlarge, discuss the position of affairs with him, and ask his adviceabout everything in the house. 

Indoors or out I generally had Dolores for a companion, and I couldcertainly not have had a more charming one. The civil war--though thelittle splutter on the Yí scarcely deserved that name yet--was herunfailing theme. She was never weary of singing her hero Santa Coloma'spraises--his dauntless courage and patience in defeat; his strangeromantic adventures; the innumerable disguises and stratagems he hadresorted to when going about in his own country, where a price was seton his head; ever labouring to infuse fresh valour into his beaten, disheartened followers. That the governing party had any right to bein power, or possessed any virtue of any kind, or were, in fact, anything but an incubus and a curse to the Banda Orientál, she wouldnot for one moment admit. To her mind her country always appeared likeAndromeda bound on her rock and left weeping and desolate to be a preyto the abhorred Colorado monster; while ever to the deliverance ofthis lovely being came her glorious Perseus, swift as the winds ofheaven, the lightnings of terrible vengeance flashing from his eyes, the might of the immortals in his strong right arm. Often she triedto persuade me to join this romantic adventurer, and it was hard, veryhard, to resist her eloquent appeals, and perhaps it grew harder everyday as the influence of her passionate beauty strengthened itself uponmy heart. Invariably I took refuge in the argument that I was aforeigner, that I loved my country with an ardour equal to hers, andthat by taking arms in the Banda Orientál I should at once divestmyself of all an Englishman's rights and privileges. She scarcely hadpatience to listen to this argument, it seemed so trivial to her, andwhen she demanded other better reasons I had none to offer. I dare notquote to her the words of sulky Achilles:

The distant Trojans never injured me, for that argument would havesounded even weaker to her than the former one. She had never readHomer in any language, of course, but she wouldhave quickly made metell her about Achilles, and when the end came, with miserable Hectordragged thrice round the walls of besieged Troy--Montevideo was calledModern Troy, she knew--then she would have turned my argument againstme and bidden me go and serve the Uruguayan President as Achillesserved Hector. Seeing me silent, she would turn indignantly away onlyfor a moment, however; the bright smile would quickly return, and shewould exclaim, "No, no, Richard, I shall not forget my promise, thoughI sometimes think you try to make me do so. "

It was noon: the house was quiet, for Doña Mercedes had retired afterbreakfast to take her unfailing siesta, leaving us to our conversation. In that spacious, cool room where I had first reposed in the house, I was lying on the sofa smoking a cigarette. Dolores, seating herselfnear me with her guitar, said, "Now let me play and sing you to sleepwith something very soft. " But the more she played and sang the furtherwas I from un-needed slumber. 

"What, not sleeping yet, Richard!" she would say, with a little laughafter each song. 

"Not yet, Dolores, " I would reply, pretending to get drowsy. "But myeyes are getting heavy now. One more song will send me to the regionof dreams. Sing me that sweet favourite---

 _Desde aquel doloroso momento_. "

At length, finding that my sleepiness was all pretence, she refusedto sing any more, and presently we drifted once more into the oldsubject. 

"Ah, yes, " she replied to that argument about my nationality, whichwas my only shield, "I have always been taught to believe foreignersa cold, practical, calculating kind of people--so different from us. You never seemed to me like a foreigner; ah, Richard, why will youmake me remember that you are not one of us! Tell me, dear friend, ifa beautiful woman cried out to you to deliver her from some greatmisfortune or danger, would you stop to ask her nationality beforegoing to her rescue?"

"No, Dolores; you know that if you, for instance, were in distress ordanger I would fly to your side and risk my life to save you. "

"I believe you, Richard. But tell me, is it less noble to help asuffering people cruelly oppressed by wicked men who have succeededby crimes and treachery and foreign aid in climbing into power? Willyou tell me that no Englishman has drawn a sword in a cause like that?Oh, friend, is not my mother-country more beautiful and worthy to behelped than any woman? Has not God given her spiritual eyes that shedtears and look for comfort; lips sweeter than any woman's lips, thatcry bitterly every day for deliverance? Can you look on the blue skiesabove you and walk on the green grass where the white and purple flowerssmile up at you and be deaf and blind to her beauty and to her greatneed? Oh, no, no, it is impossible!"

"Ah, if you were a man, Dolores, what a flame you would kindle in thehearts of your countrymen!"

"Yes, if I were a man!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet; "then Ishould serve my country not with words only; then I would strike andbleed for her--how willingly! Being only a weak woman, I would givemy heart's blood to win one arm to aid in the sacred cause. "

She stood before me with flashing eyes, her face glowing withenthusiasm; then I also rose to my feet and took her hands in mine, for I was intoxicated with her loveliness and almost ready to throwall restraints to the winds. 

"Dolores, " I said, "are not your words extravagant? Shall I test theirsincerity? Tell me, would you give even as much as one kiss with yoursweet lips to win a strong arm for your country?"

She turned crimson and cast her eyes down; then, quickly recoveringherself, answered:

"What do your words mean? Speak plainly, Richard. "

"I cannot speak plainer, Dolores. Forgive me if I have offended oncemore. Your beauty and grace and eloquence have made me forget myself. "

Her hands were moist and trembling in mine, still she did not withdrawthem. "No, I am not offended, " she returned in a strangely low tone. "Put me to the test, Richard. Do you wish me to understand clearlythat for such a favour as that you would join us?"

"I cannot say, " I replied, still endeavouring to be prudent, thoughmy heart was on fire and my words when I spoke seemed to choke me. "But, Dolores, if you would shed your blood to win one strong arm, will you think it too much to bestow the favour I spoke of in the hopeof winning an arm?"

She was silent. Then, drawing her closer, I touched her lips with mine. But who was ever satisfied with that one touch on the lips for whichthe heart has craved? It was like contact with a strange, celestialfire that instantly kindled my love to madness. Again and yet againI kissed her; I pressed her lips till they were dry and burned likefire, then kissed cheek, forehead, hair, and, casting my arms abouther strained her to my breast in a long, passionate embrace; then theviolence of the paroxysm was over, and with a pang I released her. Shetrembled: her face was whiter than alabaster, and, covering it withher hands, she sank down on the sofa. I sat down beside her and drewher head down on my breast, but we remained silent, only our heartswere beating very fast. Presently she disengaged herself, and, withoutbestowing one glance on me, rose and left the room. 

Before long I began to blame myself bitterly for this imprudentoutburst. I dared not hope to continue longer on the old familiarfooting. So high-spirited and sensitive a woman as Dolores would noteasily be brought to forget or forgive my conduct. She had not repelledme, she had even tacitly consented to that one first kiss, and wastherefore partly to blame herself; but her extreme pallor, her silence, and cold manner had plainly shown me that I had wounded her. My passionhad overcome me, and I felt that I had compromised myself. For thatone first kiss I had all but promised to do a certain thing, and notto do it now seemed very dishonourable, much as I shrank from joiningthe Blanco rebels. I had proposed the thing myself; she had silentlyconsented to the stipulation. I had taken my kiss and much more, and, having now had my delirious, evanescent joy, I could not endure thethought of meanly skulking off without paying the price. 

I went out full of trouble and paced up and down in the orchard fortwo or three hours, hoping that Dolores might come to me there, butI saw no more of her that day. At dinner Doña Mercedes was excessivelyaffable, showing clearly that she was not in her daughter's confidence. She informed me, simple soul! that Dolores was suffering from a grievousheadache caused by taking a glass of claret at breakfast after eatinga slice of water-melon, an imprudence against which she did not omitto caution me. 

Lying awake that night--for the thought that I had pained and offendedDolores made it impossible for me to sleep--I resolved to join SantaColoma immediately. That act alone would salve my conscience, and Ionly hoped that it would serve to win back the friendship and esteemof the woman I had learned to love so well. I had no sooner determinedon taking this step than I began to see so many advantages in it thatit seemed strange I had not taken it before; but we lose half ouropportunities in life through too much caution. A few more days ofadventure, all the pleasanter for being spiced with danger, and I wouldbe once more in Montevideo with a host of great and grateful friendsto start me in some career in the country. Yes, I said to myself, becoming enthusiastic, once this oppressive, scandalous, and besottedColorado party is swept with bullet and steel out of the country, asof course it will be, I shall go to Santa Coloma to lay down my sword, resuming by that act my own nationality, and as sole reward of mychivalrous conduct in aiding the rebellion, ask for his interest ingetting me placed say, at the head of some large _estancia_ inthe interior. There, possibly on one of his own establishments, I shallbe in my element and happy, hunting ostriches, eating _carne concuero_, possessing a _tropilla_ of twenty cream-coloured horsesfor my private use, and building up a modest fortune out of hides, horns, tallow, and other native products. At break of day I rose andsaddled my horse; then, finding the dignified Nepomucino, who was theearly bird (blackbird) of the establishment, told him to inform hismistress that I was going to spend the day with General Santa Coloma. After taking a _maté_ from the old fellow, I mounted and gallopedout of the village of Molino. 

Arrived at the camp, which had been moved to a distance of four orfive miles from El Molino, I found Santa Coloma just ready to mounthis horse to start on an expedition to a small town eight or nineleagues distant. He at once asked me to go with him, and remarked thathe was very much pleased, though not surprised, at my having changedmy mind about joining him. We did not return till late in the evening, and the whole of the following day was spent in monotonous cavalryexercises. I then went to the General and requested permission to visitthe Casa Blanca to bid adieu to my friends there. He informed me thathe intended going to El Molino the next morning himself and would takeme with him. The first thing he did on our arrival at the village wasto send me to the principal storekeeper in the place, a man who hadfaith in the Blanco leader, and was rapidly disposing of a large stockof goods at a splendid profit, receiving in payment sundry slips ofpaper signed by Santa Coloma. This good fellow, who mixed politicswith business, provided me with a complete and much-needed outfit, which included a broadcloth suit of clothes, soft brown hat ratherbroad in the brim, long riding-boots, and _poncho_. Going backto the official building or headquarters in the plaza, I received mysword, which did not harmonise very well with the civilian costume Iwore; but I was no worse off in this respect than forty-nine out ofevery fifty men in our little army. 

In the afternoon we went together to see the ladies, and the Generalhad a very hearty welcome from both of them, as I also had from DoñaMercedes, while Dolores received me with the utmost indifference, expressing no pleasure or surprise at seeing me wearing a sword in thecause which she had professed to have so much at heart. This was asore disappointment, and I was also nettled at her treatment of me. After dinner, over which we sat talking some time, the General leftus, telling me before doing so to join him in the plaza at five o'clocknext morning. I then tried to get an opportunity of speaking to Doloresalone, but she studiously avoided me, and in the evening there wereseveral visitors, ladies from the town with three or four officersfrom the camp, and dancing and singing were kept up till towardsmidnight. Finding that I could not speak to her, and anxious about myappointment at five in the morning, I at length retired sorrowful andbaffled to my apartment. Without undressing I threw myself on my bed, and, being very much fatigued with so much riding about, I soon fellasleep. When I woke, the brilliant light of the moon, shining in atopen window and door, made me fancy it was already daylight, and Iquickly sprang up. I had no means of telling the time, except by goinginto the large living-room, where there was an old eight-day clock. Making my way thither, I was amazed to see, on entering it, Doloresin her white dress sitting beside the open window in a dejectedattitude. She started and rose up when I entered, the extreme pallorof her face heightened by contrast with her long, raven-black hairhanging unbound on her shoulders. 

"Dolores, do I find you here at this hour?" I exclaimed. 

"Yes, " she returned coldly, sitting down again. "Do you think it verystrange, Richard?"

"Pardon me for disturbing you, " I said; "I came here to find out thetime from your clock. "

"It is two o'clock. Is that all you came for? Did you imagine I couldretire to sleep without first knowing what your motive was in returningto this house? Have you then forgotten everything?"

I came to her and sat down by the window before speaking. "No, Dolores, "I said; "had I forgotten, you would not have seen me here enlisted ina cause which I looked on only as your cause. "

"Ah, then you have honoured the Casa Blanca with this visit not tospeak to me--that you considered unnecessary--but merely to exhibityourself wearing a sword!"

I was stung by the extreme bitterness of her tone. "You are unjust tome, " I said. "Since that fatal moment when my passion overcame me Ihave not ceased thinking of you, grieving that I had offended you. No, I did not come to exhibit my sword, which is not worn for ornament;I came only to speak to you, Dolores, and you purposely avoided me. "

"Not without reason, " she retorted quickly. "Did I not sit quietly byyou after you had acted in that way towards me, waiting for you tospeak--to explain, and you were silent? Well, señor, I am here now, waiting again. "

"This, then, is what I have to say, " I replied. "After what passed Iconsidered myself bound in honour to join your cause, Dolores. Whatmore can I say except to implore your forgiveness? Believe me, dearfriend, in that moment of passion I forgot everything--forgot thatI--forgot that your hand was already given to another. "

"Given to another? What do you mean, Richard? Who told you that?"

"General Santa Coloma. "

"The General? What right has he to occupy himself with my affairs?This is a matter that concerns myself only, and it is presumption onhis part to interfere in it. "

"Do you speak in that tone of your hero, Dolores? Remember that heonly warned me of my danger out of pure friendship. But his warningwas thrown away; my unhappy passion, the sight of your loveliness, your own incautious words, were too much for my heart. "

She dropped her face on her hands and remained silent. 

"I have suffered for my fault, and must suffer more. Will you not sayyou forgive me, Dolores?" I said, offering my hand. 

She took it, but continued silent. 

"Say, dearest friend, that you forgive me, that we part friends. "

"Oh, Richard, must we part then?" she murmured. 

"Yes--now, Dolores; for, before you are up, I must be on horseback andon my way to join the troops. The march to Montevideo will probablycommence almost immediately. "

"Oh, I cannot bear it!" she suddenly exclaimed, taking my hands inboth hers. "Let me open my heart to you now. Forgive me, Richard, forbeing so angry with you, but I did not know the General had said sucha thing. Believe me, he imagines more than he knows. When you took mein your arms and held me against your breast it was a revelation tome. I cannot love or give my hand to any other man. You are everythingin the world to me now, Richard; must you leave me to mingle in thiscruel civil strife in which all my dearest friends and relations haveperished. "

She had had her revelation; I now had mine, and it was an exceedinglybitter one. I trembled at the thought of confessing my secret to her, now when she had so unmistakably responded to the passion I had insanelyrevealed. 

Suddenly she raised her dark, luminous eyes to mine, anger and shamestruggling for mastery on her pale face. 

"Speak, Richard!" she exclaimed. "Your silence at this moment is aninsult to me. "

"For God's sake, have mercy on me, Dolores, " I said. "I am not free--Ihave a wife. "

For some moments she sat staring fixedly at me, then, flinging my handfrom her, covered her face. Presently she uncovered it again, for shamewas overcome and cast out by anger. She rose and stood up before me, her face very white. 

"You have a wife--a wife whose existence you concealed from me tillthis moment!" she said. "Now you ask for mercy when your secret hasbeen wrung from you! Married, and you have dared to take me in yourarms, to excuse yourself afterwards with the plea of passion!Passion--do you know what it means, traitor? Ah, no; a breast likeyours cannot know any great or generous emotion. Would you have daredshow your face to me again had you been capable of shame even? And youjudged my heart as shallow as your own, and, after treating me in thatway, thought to win my forgiveness, and admiration even, by paradingbefore me with a sword! Leave me, I can feel nothing but contempt foryou. Go; you are a disgrace to the cause you have espoused!"

I had sat utterly crushed and humiliated, not daring even to raise mysight to her face, for I felt that my own unspeakable weakness andfolly had brought this tempest upon me! But there is a limit topatience, even in the most submissive mood; and when that wasoverpassed, then my anger blazed out all the more hotly for thepenitential meekness I had preserved during the whole interview. Herwords from the first had fallen like whip-cuts, making me writhe withthe pain they inflicted; but that last taunt stung me beyond endurance. I, an Englishman, to be told that I was a disgrace to the Blanco cause, which I had joined, in spite of my better judgment, purely out of myromantic devotion to this very woman! I too was now upon my feet, andthere face to face we stood for some moments, silent and trembling. At length I found my speech. 

"This, " I cried, "from the woman who was ready yesterday to shed herheart's blood to win one strong arm for her country? I have renouncedeverything, allied myself with abhorred robbers and cut-throats, onlyto learn that her one desire is everything to her, her divine, beautifulcountry nothing. I wish that a man had spoken those words to me, Dolores, so that I might have put this sword you speak of to one gooduse before breaking it and flinging it from me like the vile thing itis! Would to God the earth would open and swallow up this land forever, though I sank down into hell with it for the detestable crimeof taking part in its pirate wars!"

She stood perfectly still, gazing at me with widely dilated eyes, anew expression coming into her face; then when I paused for her tospeak, expecting only a fresh outburst of scorn and bitterness, astrange, sorrowful smile flitted over her lips, and, coming close tome, she placed her hand on my shoulder. 

"Oh, " she said, "what a strength of passion you are capable of! Forgiveme, Richard, for I have forgiven you. Ah, we were made for each other, and it can never, never be. "

She dropped her head dejectedly on my shoulder. My anger vanished atthosesad words; love only remained--love mingled with profoundestcompassion and remorse for the pain I had inflicted. Supporting herwith my arm, I tenderly stroked her dark hair, and, stooping, pressedmy lips against it. 

"Do you love me so much, Dolores, " I said, "enough even to forgive thecruel, bitter words I have just spoken? Oh, I was mad--mad to say suchthings to you, and shall repent it all my life long! How cruelly haveI wounded you with my love and my anger! Tell me, dearest Dolores, canyou forgive me?"

"Yes, Richard; everything. Is there any word you can speak, any deedyou can do, and I not forgive it? Does your wife love you like that--canyou love her as you love me? How cruel destiny is to us! Ah, my belovedcountry, I was ready to shed my blood for you--just to win one strongarm to fight for you, but I did not dream that this would be thesacrifice required of me. Look, it will soon be time for you to go--wecannot sleep now, Richard. Sit down here with me, and let us spendthis last hour together with my hand in yours, for we shall never, never, never meet again. "

And so, sitting there hand in hand, we waited for the dawn, speakingmany sad and tender words to one another; and at last, when we parted, I held her once more unresisting to my breast, thinking, as she did, that our separation would be an eternal one. 

CHAPTER XVIII

About the stirring events of the succeeding days I have little torelate, and no reader who has suffered the malady of love in its acutestform will wonder at it. During those days I mixed with a crowd ofadventurers, returned exiles, criminals, and malcontents, every oneof them worth studying; the daylight hours were passed in cavalryexercises or in long expeditions about the country, while every eveningbeside the camp fire romantic tales enough to fill a volume were toldin my hearing. But the image of Dolores was ever before my mind, sothat all this crowded period, lasting nine or ten days, passed beforeme like a phantasmagoria, or an uneasy dream, leaving only a veryconfused impression on my brain. I not only grieved for the sorrow Ihad occasioned her, but mourned also that my own heart had so terriblybetrayed me, so that for the moment the beautiful girl I had persuadedto fly from home and parents, promising her my undying affection, hadceased to be what she had been, so great was this new inconvenientpassion. The General had offered me a commission in his tatterdemaliongathering, but, as I had no knowledge of military matters, I hadprudently declined it, only requesting, as a special favour, that Imight be employed constantly on the expeditions he sent out over thesurrounding country to beat up recruits, seize arms, cattle, and horses, and to depose the little local authorities in the villages, puttingcreatures of his own in their places. This request had been granted, so that morning, noon, and night I was generally in the saddle. 

One evening I was in the camp seated beside a large fire and gloomilystaring into the flames, when the other men, who were occupied playingcards or sipping _maté_, hastily rose to their feet, making thesalute. Then I saw the General standing near gazing fixedly at me. Motioning to the men to resume their cards, he sat down by my side. 

"What is the matter with you?" he said. "I have noticed that you arelike a different person since you joined us. Do you regret that step?"

"No, " I answered, and then was silent, not knowing what more to say. 

He looked searchingly at me. Doubtless some suspicion of the truth wasin his mind; for he had gone to the Casa Blanca with me, and it wasscarcely likely that his keen eyes had failed to notice the coldreception Dolores gave me on that occasion. He did not, however, touchon that matter. 

"Tell me, " he said at length, "what can I do for you?"

I laughed. "What can you do except to take me to Montevideo?" I replied. 

"Why do you say that?" he returned quickly. 

"We are not merely friends now as we were before I joined you, " I said. "You are my General; I am simply one of your men. "

"The friendship remains just the same, Richard. Let me know franklywhat you think of this campaign, since you have now suddenly turnedthe current of the conversation in that direction?"

There was a slight sting in the concluding words, but I had, perhaps, deserved it. "Since you bid me speak, " I said, "I, for one, feel verymuch disappointed at the little progress we are making. It seems tome that before you are in a position to strike, the enthusiasm andcourage of your people will have vanished. You cannot get anythinglike a decent army together, and the few men you have are badly armedand undisciplined. Is it not plain that a march to Montevideo in thesecircumstances is impossible, that you will be obliged to retire intothe remote and difficult places to carry on a guerilla war?"

"No, " he returned; "there is to be no guerilla war. The Colorados madethe Orientals sick of it, when that arch-traitor and chief ofcut-throats, General Rivera, desolated the Banda for ten years. Wemust ride on to Montevideo soon. As for the character of my force, that is a matter it would perhaps be useless to discuss, my youngfriend. If I could import a well-equipped and disciplined army fromEurope to do my fighting, I should do so. The Oriental farmer, unableto send to England for a threshing-machine, is obliged to go out andgather his wild mares from the plain to tread out his wheat, and I, in like manner, having only a few scattered _ranchos_ to draw mysoldiers from, must be satisfied to do what I can with them. And nowtell me, are you anxious to see something done at once--a fight, forinstance, in which we might possibly be the losers?"

"Yes, that would be better than standing still. If you are strong, thebest thing you can do is to show your strength. "

He laughed. "Richard, you were made for an Oriental, " he said, "onlynature at your birth dropped you down in the wrong country. You arebrave to rashness, abhor restraint, love women, and have a light heart;the Castilian gravity you have recently assumed is, I fancy, only apassing mood. "

"Your words are highly complimentary and fill me with pride, " Ianswered, "but I scarcely see their connection with the subject of ourconversation. "

"There is a connection, nevertheless, " he returned pleasantly. "Thoughyou refuse a commission from me, I am so convinced that you are inheart one of us that I will take you into my confidence and tell yousomething known to only half a dozen trusted individuals here. Yourightly say that if we have strength we must show it to the country. That is what we are now about to do. A cavalry force has been sentagainst us and we shall engage it before two days are over. As far asI know, the forces will be pretty evenly balanced, though our enemieswill, of course, be better armed. We shall choose our own ground; and, should they attack us tired with a long march, or if there should beany disaffection amongst them, the victory will be ours, and afterthat every Blanco sword in the Banda will be unsheathed in our cause. I need not repeat to you that in the hour of my triumph, if it evercomes, I shall not forget my debt to you; my wish is to bind you, bodyand heart, to this Oriental country. It is, however, possible that Imay suffer defeat, and if in two days' time we are all scattered tothe winds, let me advise you what to do. Do not attempt to returnimmediately to Montevideo, as that might be dangerous. Make your wayby Minas to the southern coast; and when you reach the department ofRocha, inquire for the little settlement of Lomas de Rocha, a villagethree leagues west of the lake. You will find there a storekeeper, oneFlorentino Blanco--a Blanco in heart as well. Tell him I sent you tohim, and ask him to procure you an English passport from the capital;after which it will be safe for you to travel to Montevideo. Shouldyou ever be identified as a follower of mine, you can invent some storyto account for your presence in my force. When I remember that botanicallecture you once delivered, also some other matters, I am convincedthat you are not devoid of imagination. "

After giving some further kind advice, he bade me good night, leavingme with a strangely unpleasant conviction in my mind that we had changedcharacters for the nonce, and that I had bungled as much in my newpart as I had formerly done in my old. He had been sincerity itself, while I, picking up the discarded mask, had tied it on, probably upsidedown, for it made me feel excessively uncomfortable during ourinterview. To make matters worse, I was also sure that it had quitefailed to hide my countenance, and that he knew as well as I knewmyself the real cause of the change he had noticed in me. 

These disagreeable reflections did not trouble me long, and then Ibegan to feel considerable excitement at the prospect of a brush withthe government troops. My thoughts kept me awake most of the night;still, next morning, when the trumpet sounded its shrill réveillé closeat hand, I rose quickly, and in a much more cheerful mood than I hadknown of late. I began to feel that I was getting the better of thatinsane passion for Dolores which had made us both so unhappy, and whenwe were once more in the saddle the "Castilian gravity, " to which theGeneral had satirically alluded, had pretty well vanished. 

No expeditions were sent out that day; after we had marched abouttwelve or thirteen miles eastward and nearer to the immense range ofthe Cuchilla Grande, we encamped, and after the midday meal spent theafternoon in cavalry exercises. 

On the next day happened the great event for which we had beenpreparing, and I am positive that, with the wretched material hecommanded, no man could have done more than Santa Coloma, though, alas!all his efforts ended in disaster. Alas, I say, not because I took, even then, any very serious interest in Oriental politics, but becauseit would have been greatly to my advantage if things had turned outdifferently. Besides, a great many poor devils who had been anunconscionable time out in the cold would have come into power, andthe rascally Colorados sent away in their turn to eat the "bitterbread" of proscription. The fable of the fox and the flies might herepossibly occur to the reader; I, however, preferred to remember Lucero'sfable of the tree called Montevideo, with the chattering colony in itsbranches, and to look upon myself as one in the majestic bovine armyabout to besiege the monkeys and punish them for their naughtybehaviour. 

Quite early in the morning we had breakfast, then every man was orderedto saddle his best horse; for every one of us was the owner of threeor four steeds. I, of course, saddled the horse the General had givenme, which had been reserved for important work. We mounted, andproceeded at a gentle pace through a very wild and broken country, still in the direction of the Cuchilla. About midday scouts came ridingin and reported that the enemy were close upon us. After halting forhalf an hour, we again proceeded at the same gentle pace till abouttwo o'clock, when we crossed the Cañada de San Paulo, a deep valleybeyond which the plain rose to a height of about one hundred and fiftyfeet. In the _cañada_ we stopped to water our horses, and thereheard that the enemy were advancing along it at a rapid pace, evidentlyhoping to cut off our supposed retreat towards the Cuchilla. Crossingthe little stream of San Paulo, we began slowly ascending the slopingplain on the farther side till the highest point was gained; then, turning, we saw the enemy, numbering about seven hundred men, beneathus, spread out in a line of extraordinary length. Up from the valleythey came towards us at a brisk trot. We were then rapidly disposedin three columns, the centre one numbering about two hundred and fiftymen, the others about two hundred men each. I was in one of the outsidecolumns, within about four men from the front. My fellow-soldiers, whohad hitherto been very light-hearted and chatty, had suddenly becomegrave and quiet, some of them even looking pale and scared. On oneside of me was an irrepressible scamp of a boy about eighteen yearsold, a dark little fellow, with a monkey face and a feeble, falsettovoice like a very old woman. I watched him take out a small sharp knifeand without looking down draw it across the upper part of his surcinglethree or four times; but this he did evidently only for practice, ashe did not cut into the hide. Seeing me watching, he grinnedmysteriously and made a sign with head and shoulders thrust forwardin imitation of a person riding away at full speed, after which herestored his knife to its sheath. 

"You intend cutting your surcingle and running away, little coward?"I said. 

"And what are you going to do?" he returned. 

"Fight, " I said. 

"It is the best thing you can do, Sir Frenchman, " said he, with a grin. 

"Listen, " I said, "when the fight is over, I will look you up to thrashyou for your impertinence in calling me a Frenchman. "

"After the fight!" he exclaimed, with a funny grimace. "Do you meannext year? Before that distant time arrives some Colorado will fallin love with you, and--and--and----"

Here he explained himself without words by drawing the edge of hishand briskly across his throat, then closing his eyes and makinggurgling sounds, supposed to be uttered by a person undergoing thepainful operation of having his throat cut. 

Our colloquy was carried on in whispers, but his pantomimic performancedrew on us the attention of our neighbours, and now he looked roundto inform them with a grin and a nod that his Oriental wit was gettingthe victory. I was determined not to be put down by him, however, andtapped my revolver with my hand to call his attention to it. 

"Look at this, you young miscreant, " I said. "Do you not know that Iand many others in this column have received orders from the Generalto shoot down every man who attempts to run away?"

This speech effectually silenced him. He turned as pale as his darkskin would let him, and looked round like a hunted animal in searchof a hole to hide in. 

On my other hand a grizzly-bearded old gaucho, in somewhat tatteredgarments, lit a cigarette and, oblivious of everything except thestimulating fragrance of the strongest black tobacco, expanded hislungs with long inspirations, to send forth thereafter clouds of bluesmoke into his neighbours' faces, scattering the soothing perfume overa third portion of the army. 

Santa Coloma rose equal to the occasion; swiftly riding from columnto column, he addressed each in turn, and, using the quaint, expressivephraseology of the gauchos, which he knew so well, poured forth hisdenunciations of the Colorados with a fury and eloquence that broughtthe blood with a rush to many of his followers' pale cheeks. They weretraitors, plunderers, assassins, he cried; they had committed a millioncrimes, but all these things were nothing, nothing compared with thatone black crime which no other political party had been guilty of. Bythe aid of Brazilian gold and Brazilian bayonets they had risen topower; they were the infamous pensioners of the empire of slaves. Hecompared them to the man who marries a beautiful wife and sells herto some rich person so as to live luxuriously on the wages of his owndishonour. The foul stain which they had brought on the honour of theBanda Orientál could only be washed away with their blood. Pointingto the advancing troops, he said that when those miserable hirelingswere scattered like thistle-down before the wind, the entire countrywould be with him, and the Banda Orientál, after half a century ofdegradation, free at last and for ever from the Brazilian curse. 

Waving his sword, he galloped back to the front of his column, greetedby a storm of _vivas_. 

Then a great silence fell upon our ranks; while up the slope, theirtrumpets sounding merrily, trotted the enemy, till they had coveredabout three hundred yards of the ascending ground, threatening to closeus round in an immense circle, when suddenly the order was given tocharge, and, led by Santa Coloma, we thundered down the incline uponthem. 

Soldiers reading this plain, unvarnished account of an Oriental battlemight feel inclined to criticise Santa Coloma's tactics; for his menwere, like the Arabs, horsemen and little else; they were, moreover, armed with lance and broadsword, weapons requiring a great deal ofspace to be used effectively. Yet, considering all the circumstances, I am sure that he did the right thing. He knew that he was too weakto meet the enemy in the usual way, pitting man against man; also thatif he failed to fight, his temporary prestige would vanish like smokeand the rebellion collapse. Having decided to hazard all, and knowingthat in a stand-up fight he would infallibly be beaten, his only planwas to show a bold front, mass his feeble followers together in columns, and hurl them upon the enemy, hoping by this means to introduce a panicamongst his opponents and so snatch the victory. 

A discharge of carbines with which we were received did us no damage. I, at any rate, saw no saddles emptied near me, and in a few momentswe were dashing through the advancing lines. A shout of triumph wentup from our men, for our cowardly foes were flying before us in alldirections. On we rode in triumph till we reached the bottom of thehill, then we reined up, for before us was the stream of San Paulo, and the few scattered men who had crossed it and were scuttling awaylike hunted ostriches scarcely seemed worth chasing. Suddenly with agreat shout a large body of Colorados came thundering down the hillon our rear and flank, and dismay seized upon us. The feeble effortsmade by some of our officers to bring us round to face them provedunavailing. I am utterly unable to give any clear account of whatfollowed immediately after that, for we were all, friends and foes, mixed up for some minutes in the wildest confusion, and how I ever gotout of it all without a scratch is a mystery to me. More than once Iwas in violent collision with Colorado men, distinguished from oursby their uniform, and several furious blows with sword and lance wereaimed at me, but somehow I escaped them all. I emptied the six chambersof my Colt's revolver, but whether my bullets did any execution or notI cannot pretend to say. In the end I found myself surrounded by fourof our men who were furiously spurring their horses out of the fight. 

"Whip up, Captain, come with us this way, " shouted one of them whoknew me, and who always insisted on giving me a title to which I hadno right. 

As we rode away, skirting the hill towards the south, he assured methat all was lost, in proof of which he pointed to scattered bodiesof our men flying from the field in all directions. Yes, we weredefeated; that was plain to see, and I needed little encouragementfrom my fellow-runaways to spur my horse to its utmost speed. Had thefalcon eye of Santa Coloma rested on me at that moment he might haveadded to the list of Oriental traits he had given me the un-Englishfaculty of knowing when I was beaten. I was quite as anxious, I believe, to save my skin--_throat_, we say in the Banda Orientál--as anyhorseman there, not even excepting the monkey-faced boy with the squeakyvoice. 

If the curious reader, thirsting for knowledge, will consult theUruguayan histories, I daresay he will find a more scientificdescription of the battle of San Paulo than I have been able to give. My excuse must be that it was the only battle--pitched or other--atwhich I have ever assisted, also that my position in the Blanco forceswas a very humble one. Altogether I am not overproud of my soldieringperformances; still, as I did no worse than Frederick the Great ofPrussia, who ran away from his first battle, I do not consider thatI need blush furiously. My companions took our defeat with the usualOriental resignation. "You see, " said one in explanation of his mentalattitude, "there must always be one side defeated in every fight, forhad we gained the day, then the Colorados would have lost. " There wasin this remark a sound practical philosophy; it could not becontroverted, it burdened our brains with no new thing, and it madeus all very cheerful. For myself, I did not care very much, but couldnot help thinking a great deal of Dolores, who would now have a freshgrief to increase her pain. 

For a distance of three or four miles we rode at a fast gallop, on theslopes of the Cuchilla paused to breathe our horses, and, dismounting, stood for some time gazing back over the wide landscape spread outbefore us. At our backs rose the giant green and brown walls of thesierras, the range stretching away on either hand in violet and deepblue masses. At our feet lay the billowy green and yellow plain, vastas ocean, and channelled by innumerable streams, while one black patchon a slope far away showed us that our foes were camping on the veryspot where they had overcome us. Not a cloud appeared in the immenseheavens; only, low down in the west, purple and rose-coloured vapourswere beginning to form, staining the clear, intense white-blue skyabout the sinking sun. Over all reigned deep silence; until, suddenly, a flock of orange and flame-coloured orioles with black wings sweptdown on a clump of bushes hard by and poured forth a torrent of wild, joyous music. A strange performance! screaming notes that seemed toscream jubilant gladness to listening heaven, and notes abrupt andguttural, mingling with others more clear and soul-piercing than everhuman lips drew from reed or metal. It soon ended; up sprang thevocalists like a fountain of fire and fled away to their roost amongthe hills, then silence reigned once more. What brilliant hues, whatgay, fantastic music! Were they indeed birds, or the glad, wingedinhabitants of a mystic region, resembling earth, but sweeter thanearth and never entered by death, upon whose threshold I had stumbledby chance? Then, while the last rich flood of sunshine came over theearth from that red, everlasting urn resting on the far horizon, Icould, had I been alone, have cast myself upon the ground to adore thegreat God of Nature, who had given me this precious moment of life. For here the religion that languishes in crowded cities or stealsshame-faced to hide itself in dim churches flourishes greatly, fillingthe soul with a solemn joy. Face to face with Nature on the vast hillsat eventide, who does not feel himself near to the Unseen?

 Out of his heart God shall not pass: His image stampèd is on every grass. 

My comrades, anxious to get through the Cuchilla, were already onhorseback, shouting to me to mount. One more lingering glance overthat wide prospect--wide, yet how small a portion of the Banda's twentythousand miles of everlasting verdure, watered by innumerable beautifulstreams? Again the thought of Dolores swept like a moaning wind overmy heart. For this rich prize, her beautiful country, how weakly andwith what feeble hands had we striven! Where now was her hero, theglorious deliverer Perseus? Lying, perhaps, stark and stained withblood on yon darkening moor. Not yet was the Colorado monster overcome. "Rest on thy rock, Andromeda!" I sadly murmured, then, leaping intothe saddle, galloped away after my retreating comrades, already halfa mile away down in the shadowy mountain pass. 

CHAPTER XIX

Before it had been long dark, we had crossed the range and into thedepartment of Minas. Nothing happened till towards midnight, when ourhorses began to be greatly distressed. My companions hoped to reachbefore morning an _estancia_, still many leagues distant, wherethey were known and would be allowed to lie in concealment for a fewdays till the storm blew over; for usually shortly after an outbreakhas been put down an _indulto_, or proclamation of pardon, isissued, after which it is safe for all those who have taken arms againstthe constituted government to return to their homes. For the time wewere, of course, outlaws, and liable to have our throats cut at anymoment. Our poor horses at last became incapable even of a trot, and, dismounting, we walked on, leading them by the bridles. 

About midnight we approached a watercourse, the upper part of the RioBarriga Negra--Black Belly River--and on coming near it the tinklingof a bell attracted our attention. It is the usual thing for every manin the Banda Orientál to have one mare, called _madrina_, in his_tropilla_, or herd of geldings; the _madrina_ always carriesa bell attached to her neck, and at night her forefeet are usuallyhobbled to prevent her wandering far from home; for the horses arealways very much attached to her and will not leave her. 

After listening for a few moments, we concluded that the sound camefrom the bell of a _madrina_, and that her forefeet were bound, for the tinkle came in violent jerks, as from an animal laboriouslyhopping along. Proceeding to the spot, we found a _tropilla_ ofeleven or twelve dun-coloured horses feeding near the river. Drivingthem very gently towards the bank, where a sharp bend in the streamenabled us to corner them, we set to work catching fresh horses. Fortunately they were not very shy of strangers, and after we hadcaught and secured the _madrina_, they gathered whinnying roundher, and we were not very long in selecting the five best-looking dunsin the herd. 

"My friends, I call this stealing, " I said, though at that very momentI was engaged in hastily transferring my saddle to the animal I hadsecured. 

"That is very interesting information, " said one of my comrades. 

"A stolen horse will always carry you well, " said another. 

"If you cannot steal a horse without compunction, you have not beenproperly brought up, " cried the third. 

"In the Banda Orientál, " said the fourth, "you are not looked upon asan honest man unless you steal. "

We then crossed the river and broke into a swift gallop, which we keptup till morning, reaching our destination a little while before sunrise. There was here a fine plantation of trees not far from the house, surrounded by a deep ditch and a cactus hedge, and after we had taken_maté_ and then breakfast at the house, where the people receivedus very kindly, we proceeded to conceal our horses and ourselves inthe plantation. We found a comfortable little grassy hollow, partlyshaded with the surrounding trees, and here we spread our rugs, and, fatigued with our exertions, soon dropped into a deep sleep whichlasted pretty well all day. It was a pleasant day for me, for I hadwaking intervals during which I experienced that sensation of absoluterest of mind and body which is so exceedingly sweet after a long periodof toil and anxiety. During my waking intervals I smoked cigarettesand listened to the querulous pipings of a flock of young black-headedsiskins flying about from tree to tree after their parents and askingto be fed. 

Occasionally the long, clear cry of the venteveo, a lemon-colouredbird with black head and long beak like a kingfisher, rang through thefoliage; or a flock of pecho amarillos, olive-brown birds with brightyellow vests, would visit the trees and utter their confused chorusof gay notes. 

I did not think very much about Santa Coloma. Probably he had escaped, and was once more a wanderer disguised in the humble garments of apeasant; but that would be no new experience to him. The bitter breadof expatriation had apparently been his usual food, and his periodicaldescents upon the country had so far always ended in disaster: he hadstill an object to live for. But when I remembered Dolores lamentingher lost cause and vanished peace of mind, then, in spite of the brightsunshine flecking the grass, the soft, warm wind fanning my faceandwhispering in the foliage overhead, and the merry-throated birds thatcame to visit me, a pang was in my heart, and tears came to my eyes. 

When evening came we were all wide awake, and sat till a very latehour round the fire we had made in the hollow, sipping _maté_ andconversing. We were all in a talkative mood that evening, and afterthe ordinary subjects of Banda Orientál conversation had been exhausted, we drifted into matters extraordinary--wild creatures of strangeappearance and habits, apparitions, and marvellous adventures. 

"The manner in which the lampalagua captures its prey is very curious, "said one of the company, named Rivarola, a stout man with an immense, fierce-looking black beard and moustache, but who was very mild-eyedand had a gentle, cooing voice. 

We had all heard of the lampalagua, a species of boa found in thesecountries, with a very thick body and extremely sluggish in its motions. It preys on the larger rodents, and captures them, I believe, byfollowing them into their burrows, where they cannot escape from itsjaws by running. 

"I will tell you what I once witnessed, for I have never seen a strangerthing, " continued Rivarola. "Riding one day through a forest I sawsome distance before me a fox sitting on the grass watching my approach. Suddenly I saw it spring high up into the air, uttering a great screamof terror, then fall back upon the earth, where it lay for some timegrowling, struggling, and biting as if engaged in deadly conflictwithsome visible enemy. Presently it began to move away through the wood, but very slowly and still frantically struggling. It seemed to begetting exhausted, its tail dragged, the mouth foamed, and the tonguehung out, while it still moved on as if drawn by an unseen cord. Ifollowed, going very close to it, but it took no notice of me. Sometimesit dug its claws into the ground or seized a twig or stalk with itsteeth, and it would then remain resting for a few moments till thetwig gave away, when it would roll over many times on the ground, loudly yelping, but still dragged onwards. Presently I saw in thedirection we were going a huge serpent, thick as a man's thigh, itshead lifted high above the grass, and motionless as a serpent of stone. Its cavernous, blood-red mouth was gaping wide, and its eyes were fixedon the struggling fox. When about twenty yards from the serpent thefox began moving very rapidly over the ground, its struggles growingfeebler every moment, until it seemed to fly through the air, and inan instant was in the serpent's mouth. Then the reptile dropped itshead and began slowly swallowing its prey. "

"And you actually witnessed this yourself?" said I. 

"With these eyes, " he returned, indicating the orbs in question bypointing at them with the tube of the _maté_-cup he held in hishand. "This was the only occasion on which I have actually seen thelampalagua take its prey, but its manner of doing it is well known toeveryone from hearsay. You see, it draws an animal towards it by meansof its power of suction. Sometimes, when the animal attacked is verystrong or very far off--say two thousand yards--the serpent becomesso inflated with the quantity of air inhaled while drawing the victimtowards it----"

"That it bursts?" I suggested. 

"That it is obliged to stop drawing to blow the wind out. When thishappens, the animal, finding itself released from the drawing force, instantly sets off at full speed. Vain effort! The serpent has nosooner discharged the accumulated wind with a report like a cannon----"

"No, no, like a musket! I have heard it myself, " interrupted Blas Aria, one of the listeners. 

"Like a musket, than it once more brings its power of suction to bear;and in this manner the contest continues until the victim is finallydrawn into the monster's jaws. It is well known that the lampalaguais the strongest of all God's creatures, and that if a man, strippedto the skin, engages one, and conquers it by sheer muscular strength, the serpent's power goes into him, after which he is invincible. "

I laughed at this fable, and was severely rebuked for my levity. 

"I will tell you the strangest thing that ever befell me, " said BlasAria. "I happened to be travelling alone--for reasons--on the northernfrontier. I crossed the River Yaguaron into Brazilian territory, andfor a whole day rode through a great marshy plain, where the reedswere dead and yellow, and the water shrunk into muddy pools. It wasa place to make a man grow weary of life. When the sun was going down, and I began to despair of getting to the end of this desolation, Idiscovered a low hovel made of mud and thatched with rushes. It wasabout fifteen yards long, with only one small door, and seemed to beuninhabited, for no person answered me when I rode round it shoutingaloud. I heard a grunting and squealing within, and by and by a sow, followed by a litter of young pigs, came out, looked at me, then wentin again. I would have ridden on, but my horses were tired; besides, a great storm with thunder and lightning was coming up, and no othershelter appeared in sight. I therefore unsaddled, loosed my horses tofeed, and took my gear into the hovel. The room I entered was so smallthat the sow and her young occupied all the floor; there was, however, another room, and, opening the door, which was closed, I went into it, and found that it was very much larger than the first; also, that itcontained a dirty bed made of skins in one corner, while on the floorwas a heap of ashes and a black pot. There was nothing else except oldbones, sticks, and other rubbish littering the floor. Afraid of beingcaught unawares by the owner of this foul den, and finding nothing toeat in it, I returned to the first room, turned the pigs out of doors, and sat down on my saddle to wait. It was beginning to get dark whena woman, bringing in a bundle of sticks, suddenly appeared at the door. Never, sirs, have I beheld a fouler, more hideous object than thisperson. Her face was hard, dark, and rough like the bark of the_ñandubuy_ tree, while her hair, which covered her head andshoulders in a tangled mass, was of a dry, earthy colour. Her body wasthick and long, yet she looked like a dwarf, for she scarcely had anylegs, only enormous knees and feet; and her garments were old raggedhorse-rugs tied round her body with thongs of hide. She stared at meout of a pair of small black rat eyes, then, setting down her bundle, asked me what I wanted. I told her I was a tired traveller, and wantedfood and shelter. 'Shelter you can have: food there is none, ' she said;then, taking up her sticks, she passed to the inner room and securedit with a bolt on the inside. She had not inspired me with love, andthere was little danger of my attempting to intrude on her there. Itwas a black, stormy night, and very soon the rain began to fall intorrents. Several times the sow, with her young pigs loudly squealing, came in for shelter, and I was forced to get up and beat them out withmy whip. At length, through the mud partition separating the two rooms, I heard the crackling of a fire which the vile woman was lighting;and, before long, through the chinks came the savoury smell of roastmeat. That surprised me greatly, for I had searched the room and failedto find anything to eat in it. I concluded that she had brought in themeat under her garments, but where she had got it was a mystery. Atlength I began to doze. There were many sounds in my ear as of thunderand wind, the pigs grunting at the door, and the crackling of the firein the hag's room. But by and by other sounds seemed to mingle withthese--voices of several persons talking, laughing, and singing. Atlength I became wide awake, and found that these voices proceeded fromthe next room. Some person was playing a guitar and singing, thenothers were loudly talking and laughing. I tried to peep through thecracks in the door and partition, but could not see through them. Highup in the middle of the wall there was one large crack through whichI was sure the interior could be seen, so much red firelight streamedthrough it. I placed my saddle against the partition, and all my rugsfolded small, one above the other, until I had heaped them as high asmy knees. Standing on my toes on this pile, and carefully clinging tothe wall with my finger-nails, I managed to bring my eyes to a levelwith the crack, and peeped through it. The room inside was brightlylighted by a big wood fire burning at one end, while on the floor alarge crimson cloak was spread, on which the people I had heard weresitting with some fruit and bottles of wine before them. There wasthe foul hag, looking almost as tall sitting as she had appeared whenstanding; she was playing on a guitar and singing a ballad inPortuguese. Before her on the cloak lay a tall, well-formed negrowoman, wearing only a narrow white cloth round her loins, and broadsilver armlets on her round black arms. She was eating a banana, andagainst her knees, which were drawn up, sat a beautiful girl aboutfifteen years old, with a dark pale face. She was dressed in white, her arms were bare, and round her head she wore a gold band keepingback her black hair, which fell unbound on her back. Before her, onhis knees on the cloak, was an old man with a face brown and wrinkledas a walnut, and beard white as thistle-down. With one of his handshe was holding the girl's arm, and with the other offering her a glassof wine. All this I saw at one glance, and then all of them togetherturned their eyes up at the crack as if they knew that someone waswatching them. I started back in alarm, and fell with a crash to theground. Then I heard loud screams of laughter, but I dared not attemptto look in on them again, I took my rugs to the farther side of theroom, and sat down to wait for morning. The talking and laughtercontinued for about two hours, then it gradually died away, the lightfaded from the chinks, and all was dark and silent. No person cameout; and at last, overcome with drowsiness, I fell asleep. It was daywhen I woke. I rose and walked round the hovel, and, finding a crackin the wall, I peered into the hag's room. It looked just as I hadseen it the day before; there was the pot and pile of ashes, and inthe corner the brutish woman lying asleep in her skins. After that Igot on to my horse and rode away. May I never again have such anexperience as I had that night. "

Something was then said about witchcraft by the others, all lookingvery solemn. 

"You were very hungry and tired that night, " I ventured to remark, "and perhaps after the woman locked her door you went to sleep anddreamed all that about people eating fruit and playing on the guitar. "

"Our horses were tired and we were flying for our lives yesterday, "returned Blas contemptuously. "Perhaps it made us dream that we caughtfive dun horses to carry us. "

"When a person is incredulous, it is useless arguing with him, " saidMariano, a small dark grey-haired man. "I will now tell you a strangeadventure I had when I was a young man; but remember I do not put ablunderbuss to any man's breast to compel him to believe me. For whatis, is; and let him that disbelieves shake his head till he shakes itoff, and it falls to the ground like a cocoanut from the tree. 

"After I got married I sold my horses, and, taking all my money, purchased two ox-carts, intending to make my living by carrying freight. One cart I drove myself, and to drive the other I hired a boy whom Icalled Mula, though that was not the name his godfathers gave him, butbecause he was stubborn and sullen as a mule. His mother was a poorwidow, living near me, and when she heard about the ox-carts she cameto me with her son and said, 'Neighbour Mariano, for your mother'ssake, take my son and teach him to earn his bread, for he is a boythat loves not to do anything. ' So I took Mula and paid the widow forhis services after each journey. When there was no freight to be hadI sometimes went to the lagoons to cut rushes, and, loading the cartswith them, we would go about the country to sell the rushes to thosewho required them to thatch their houses. Mula loved not this work. Often when we were all day wading up to our thighs in the water, cuttingthe rushes down close to their roots, then carrying them in largebundles on our shoulders to land, he would cry, complaining bitterlyof his hard lot. Sometimes I thrashed him, for it angered me to seea poor boy so fastidious: then he would curse me and say that some dayhe would have his revenge. 'When I am dead, ' he often told me, 'my ghostwill come to haunt and terrify you for all the blows you have givenme. ' This always made me laugh. 

"At last, one day, while crossing a deep stream, swollen with rains, my poor Mula fell down from his perch on the shaft and was swept awayby the current into deep water and drowned. Well, sirs, about a yearafter that event I was out in search of a couple of strayed oxen whennight overtook me a long distance from home. Between me and my housethere was a range of hills running down to a deep river, so close thatthere was only a narrow passage to get through, and for a long distancethere was no other opening. When I reached the pass I fell into anarrow path with bushes and trees growing on either side; here, suddenly, the figure of a young man stepped out from the trees andstood before me. It was all in white--_poncho, chiripà_, drawers, even its boots, and wore a broad-brimmed straw hat on its head. Myhorse stood still trembling; nor was I less frightened, for my hairrose up on my head like bristles on a pig's back; and the sweat brokeout on my face like raindrops. Not a word said the figure; onlyitremained standing still with arms folded on its breast, preventing mefrom passing. Then I cried out, 'In Heaven's name, who are you, andwhat do you want with Mariano Montes de Oca, that you bar his path?'At this speech it laughed; then it said, 'What, does my old master notknow me? I am Mula; did I not often tell you that some day I shouldreturn to pay you out for all the thrashings you gave me? Ah, MasterMariano, you see I have kept my word!' Then it began to laugh again. 'May ten thousand curses light on your head!' I shouted. 'If you wishfor my life, Mula, take it and be for ever damned; or else let me pass, and go back to Satan, your master, and tell him from me to keep astricter watch on your movements; for why should the stench of purgatorybe brought to my nostrils before my time! And now, hateful ghost, whatmore have you got to say to me?' At this speech the ghost shouted withlaughter, slapping its thighs, and doubling itself up with mirth. Atlast, when it was able to speak, it said, 'Enough of this fooling, Mariano. I did not intend frightening you so much; and it is no greatmatter if I have laughed a little at you now, for you have often mademe cry. I stopped you because I had something important to say. Go tomy mother and tell her you have seen and spoken with me; tell her topay for another mass for my soul's repose, for after that I shall beout of purgatory. If she has no money lend her a few dollars for themass, and I will repay you, old man, in another world. '

"This it said and vanished. I lifted my whip, but needed not to strikemy horse, for not a bird that has wings could fly faster than he nowflew with me on his back. No path was before me, nor did I know wherewe were going. Through rushes and through thickets, over burrows ofwild animals, stones, rivers, marshes, we flew as if all the devilsthat are on the earth and under it were at our heels; and when thehorse stopped it was at my own door. I stayed not to unsaddle him, but, cutting the surcingle with my knife, left him to shake the saddleoff; then with the bridle I hammered on the door, shouting to my wifeto open. I heard her fumbling for the tinder-box. 'For the love ofHeaven, woman, strike no light, ' I cried. '_Santa Barbara bendita_!have you seen a ghost?' she exclaimed, opening to me. 'Yes, ' I replied, rushing in and bolting the door, 'and had you struck a light you wouldnow have been a widow. '

"For thus it is, sirs, the man who after seeing a ghost is confrontedwith a light immediately drops down dead. "

I made no sceptical remarks, and did not even shake my head. Thecircumstances of the encounter were described by Mariano with suchgraphic power and minuteness that it was impossible not to believe hisstory. Yet some things in it afterwards struck me as somewhat absurd;that straw hat, for instance, and it also seemed strange that a personof Mula's disposition should have been so much improved in temper byhis sojourn in a warmer place. 

"Talking of ghosts----" said Laralde, the other man--but proceeded nofurther, for I interrupted him. Laralde was a short, broad-shoulderedman, with bow legs and bushy grey whiskers; he was called by hisfamiliars Lechuza (owl) on account of his immense, round, tawny-colouredeyes, which had a tremendous staring power in them. 

I thought we had had enough of the supernatural by this time. 

"My friend, " I said, "pardon me for interrupting you; but there willbe no sleep for us to-night if we have any more stories about spiritsfrom the other world. "

"Talking of ghosts----" resumed Lechuza, without noticing my remark, and this nettled me; so I cut in once more:

"I protest that we have heard quite enough about them, " I said. "Thisconversation was only to be about rare and curious things. Now, visitorsfrom the other world are very common. I put it to you, my friends--haveyou not all seen more ghosts than lampalaguas drawing foxes with theirbreath?"

"I have seen that once only, " said Rivarola gravely. "I have oftenseen ghosts. "

The others also confessed to having seen more than one ghost apiece. 

Lechuza sat inattentive, smoking his cigarette, and when we had alldone speaking began again. 

"Talking of ghosts----"

Nobody interrupted him this time, though he seemed to expect it, forhe made a long, deliberate pause. 

"Talking of ghosts, " he repeated, staring around him triumphantly, "Ionce had an encounter with a strange being that was _not_ a ghost. I was a young man then--young and full of the fire, strength, andcourage of youth--for what I am now going to relate happened overtwenty years ago. I had been playing cards at a friend's house, andleft it at midnight to ride to my father's house, a distance of fiveleagues. I had quarrelled that evening and left a loser, burning withanger against the man who had cheated and insulted me, and with whomI was not allowed to fight. Vowing vengeance on him, I rode away ata fast gallop; the night being serene, and almost as light as day, forthe moon was at its full. Suddenly I saw before me a huge man sittingon a white horse, which stood perfectly motionless directly in my path. I dashed on till I came near him, then shouted aloud. 'Out of my path, friend, lest I ride over you'; for I was still raging in my heart. 

"Seeing that he took no notice of my words, I dug my spurs into myhorse and hurled myself against him; then at the very moment my horsestruck his with a tremendous shock, I brought down my iron whip-handlewith all the force that was in me upon his head. The blow rang as ifI had struck upon an anvil, while at the same moment he, withoutswerving, clutched my cloak with both hands. I could feel that theywere bony, hard hands, armed with long, crooked, sharp talons like aneagle's, which pierced through my cloak into my flesh. Dropping mywhip, I seized him by the throat, which seemed scaly and hard, betweenmy hands, and thus, locked together in a desperate struggle, we swayedthis way and that, each trying to drag the other from his seat tillwe came down together with a crash upon the earth. In a moment we weredisengaged and on our feet. Quick as lightning flashed out his long, sharp weapon, and, finding I was too late to draw mine, I hurledmyselfagainst him, seizing his armed hand in both mine before he couldstrike. 

"For a few moments he stood still, glaring at me out of a pair of eyesthat shone like burning coals; then, mad with rage, he flung me offmy feet and whirled me round and round like a ball in a sling, andfinally cast me from him to a distance of a hundred yards, so greatwas his strength. I was launched with tremendous force into the middleof some thorny bushes, but had no sooner recovered from the shock thanout I burst with a yell of rage and charged him again. For, you willhardly believe it, sirs, by some strange chance I had carried away hisweapon, firmly grasped in my hands. It was a heavy two-edged dagger, sharp as a needle, and while I grasped the hilt I felt the strengthand fury of a thousand fighting-men in me. As I advanced he retreatedbefore me, until, seizing the topmost boughs of a great thorny bush, he swung his body to one side and wrenched it out of the earth by theroots. Swinging the bush with the rapidity of a whirlwind round hishead, he advanced against me and dealt a blow that would have crushedme had it descended on me; but it fell too far, for I had dodged underit to close with him, and delivered a stab with such power that thelong weapon was buried to its hilt in his bosom. He uttered a deafeningyell, and at the same moment a torrent of blood spouted forth, scaldingmy face like boiling water, and drenching my clothes through to theskin. For a moment I was blinded; but when I had dashed the blood frommy eyes and looked round he had vanished, horse and all. 

"Then, mounting my horse, I rode home and told everyone what hadhappened, showing the knife, which I still carried in my hand. Nextday all the neighbours gathered at my house, and we rode in companyto the spot where the fight had taken place. There we found the bushtorn up by the roots, and all the earth about it ploughed up where wehad fought. The ground was also dyed with blood for several yardsround, and where it had fallen the grass was withered up to the roots, as if scorched with fire. We also picked up a cluster of hairs--long, wiry, crooked hairs, barbed at the ends like fish-hooks; also threeor four scales like fish-scales, only rougher, and as large as doubloons. The spot where the fight took place is now called _La Cañada delDiablo, _ and I have heard that since that day the devil has neverappeared corporeally to fight any man in the Banda Orientál. "

Lechuza's narrative gave great satisfaction. I said nothing, feelinghalf stupid with amazement, for the man apparently told it in the fullconviction that it was true, while the other listeners appeared toaccept every word of it with the most implicit faith. I began to feelvery melancholy, for evidently they expected something from me now, and what to tell them I knew not. It went against my conscience to bethe only liar amongst these exceedingly veracious Orientals, and soI could not think of inventing anything. 

"My friends, " I began at length, "I am only a young man; also a nativeof a country where marvellous things do not often happen, so that Ican tell you nothing to equal in interest the stories I have heard. I can only relate a little incident which happened to me in my owncountry before I left it. It is trivial, perhaps, but will lead me totell you something about London--that great city you have all heardof. "

"Yes, we have heard of London; it is in England, I believe. Tell usyour story about London, " said Blas encouragingly. 

"I was very young--only fourteen years old, " I continued, flatteringmyself that my modest introduction had not been ineffective, "when oneevening I came to London from my home. It was in January, in the middleof winter, and the whole country was white with snow. "

"Pardon me, Captain, " said Blas, "but you have got the cucumber by thewrong end. We say that January is in summer. "

"Not in my country, where the seasons are reversed, " I said. 

"When I rose next morning it was dark as night, for a black fog hadfallen upon the city. "

"A black fog!" exclaimed Lechuza. 

"Yes, a black fog that would last all days and make it darker thannight, for though the lamps were lighted in the streets they gave nolight. "

"Demons!" exclaimed Rivarola; "there is no water in the bucket. I mustgo to the well for some or we shall have none to drink in the night. "

"You might wait till I finish, " I said. 

"No, no, Captain, " he returned. "Go on with your story; we must notbe without water. " And, taking up the bucket, he trudged off. 

"Finding it was going to be dark all day, " I continued, "I determinedto go a little distance away, not out of London, you will understand, but about three leagues from my hotel to a great hill, where I thoughtthe fog would not be so dark, and where there is a palace of glass. "

"A palace of glass!" repeated Lechuza, with his immense round eyesfixed sternly on me. 

"Yes, a palace of glass--is there anything so wonderful in that?"

"Have you any tobacco in your pouch, Mariano?" said Blas. 

"Pardon, Captain, for speaking, but the things you are telling requirea cigarette, and my pouch is empty. "

"Very well, sirs, perhaps you will now allow me to proceed, " I said, beginning to feel rather vexed at these constant interruptions. "Apalace of glass large enough to hold all the people in this country. "

"The Saints assist us! Your tobacco is dry as ashes, Mariano, " exclaimedBlas. 

"That is not strange, " said the other, "for I have had it three daysin my pocket. Proceed, Captain. A palace of glass large enough to holdall the people in the world. And then?"

"No, I shall not proceed, " I returned, losing my temper. "It is plainto see that you do not wish to hear my story. Still, sirs, from motivesof courtesy you might have disguised your want of interest in what Iwas about to relate; for I have heard it said that the Orientals area polite people. "

"There you are saying too much, my friend, " broke in Lechuza. "Rememberthat we were speaking of actual experiences, not inventing tales ofblack fogs and glass palaces and men walking on their heads, and Iknow not what other marvels. "

"Do you know that what I am telling you is untrue?" I indignantlyasked. 

"Surely, friend, you do not consider us such simple persons in theBanda Orientál as not to know truth from fable?"

And this from the fellow who had just told us of his tragical encounterwith Apollyon, a yarn which quite put Bunyan's narrative in the shade!It was useless talking; my irritation gave place to mirth, and, stretching myself out on the grass, I roared with laughter. The moreI thought of Lechuza's stern rebuke the louder I laughed, until Iyelled with laughter, slapping my thighs and doubling myself up afterthe manner of Mariano's hilarious visitor from purgatory. My companionsnever smiled. Rivarola came back with the bucket of water, and, afterstaring at me for some time, said, "If the tears, which they say alwaysfollow laughter, come in the same measure, then we shall have to sleepin the wet. "

This increased my mirth. 

"If the whole country is to be informed of our hiding-place, " saidBlas the timid, "we were putting ourselves to an unnecessary troubleby running away from San Paulo. "

Fresh screams of laughter greeted this protest. 

"I once knew a man, " said Mariano, "who had a most extraordinary laugh;you could hear it a league away, it was so loud. His name was Aniceto, but we called him El Burro on account of his laugh, which sounded likethe braying of an ass. Well, sirs, he one day burst out laughing, likethe Captain here, at nothing at all, and fell down dead. You see, thepoor man had aneurism of the heart. "

At this I fairly yelled, then, feeling quite exhausted, I lookedapprehensively at Lechuza, for this important member of the quartethad not yet spoken. 

With his immense, unspeakably serious eyes fixed on me, he remarkedquietly, "And this, my friends, is the man who says it is wrong tosteal horses!"

But I was past shrieking now. Even this rich specimen of topsy-turvyBanda Orientál morality only evoked a faint gurgling as I rolled abouton the grass, my sides aching, as if I had received a good bruising. 

CHAPTER XX

Day had just dawned when I rose to join Mariano at the fire he hadalready kindled to heat the water for his early _maté_. I did notlike the idea of lying there concealed amongst the trees like somehunted animal for an indefinite time; moreover, I had been advised bySanta Coloma to proceed directly to the Lomas de Rocha, on the southcoast, in the event of a defeat, and this now seemed to me the bestthing to do. It had been very pleasant lying there "under the greenwoodtree, " while those veracious stories of hags, lampalaguas, andapparitions had proved highly entertaining; but a long spell, a wholemonth perhaps, of that kind of life was not to be thought of; and ifI did not get to Rocha now, before the rural police were set to catchrunaway rebels, it would perhaps be impossible to do so later on. Idetermined, therefore, to go my own way, and, after drinking bitter_maté_, I caught and saddled the dun horse. I really had notdeserved the severe censure Lechuza had passed on me the previousevening in reference to horse-stealing, for I had taken the dun withvery little more compunction than one is accustomed to feel in Englandwhen "borrowing" an umbrella on a rainy day. To all people in all partsof the world, a time comes when to appropriate their neighbour's goodsis held not only justifiable, but even meritorious; to Israelites inEgypt, Englishmen under a cloud in their own moist island, and toOrientals running away after a fight. By keeping the dun over thirtyhours in my possession I had acquired a kind of prescriptive right toit, and now began to look on it as my very own; subsequent experienceof his endurance and other good qualities enables me to endorse theOriental saying that a "stolen horse carries you well. "

Bidding farewell to my companions in defeat, who had certainly notbeen frightened out of their imaginations, I rode forth just when itwas beginning to grow light. Roads and houses I studiously avoided, travelling on at an easy gallop, which took me about ten miles an hour, till noon; then I rested at a small _rancho_, where I fed and watered myhorse and recruited my own energies with roast beef and bitter _maté_. Onagain till dark; by that time I had covered about forty miles, and beganto feel both hungry and tired. I had passed several _ranchos_ and_estancia_ houses, but was shy of seeking entertainment at any of them, and so went farther, only to fare worse. When the brief twilight wasdarkening to night I came upon a broad cart-track, leading, I suppose, toMontevideo from the eastern part of the country, and, seeing a long, low_rancho_ near it, which I recognized as a _pulperia_, or store, by theflagstaff planted before it, I resolved to purchase some refreshment formyself, then to ride on a mile or two and spend the night under thestars--a safe roof if an airy one. Tying my horse to the gate, I wentinto the porch-like projection at the end of the _rancho_, which I founddivided from the interior by the counter, with its usual grating ofthick iron bars to protect the treasures of gin, rum, and comestiblesfrom drunken or quarrelsome customers. As soon as I came into the porchI began to regret having alighted at the place, for there, standingat the counter, smoking and drinking, were about a dozen veryrough-looking men. Unfortunately for me, they had tied their horsesunder the shadow of a clump of trees some distance from the gate, sothat I had missed seeing them on my arrival. Once amongst them, however, my only plan was to disguise my uneasiness, be very polite, get myrefreshments, then make my escape as speedily as possible. They staredrather hard at me, but returned my salutation courteously; then goingto a disengaged corner of the counter, I rested my left elbow on itand called for bread, a box of sardines, and a tumbler of wine. 

"If you will join me, señores, the table is spread, " said I; but theyall declined my invitation with thanks, and I began to eat my breadand sardines. 

They appeared to be all persons living in the immediate neighbourhood, for they addressed each other familiarly and were conversing aboutlove matters. One of them, however, soon dropped out of theconversation, and, edging away from the others, stood a little spaceapart, leaning against the wall on the side of the porch farthest fromme. I began to notice this man very particularly, for it was plain tosee that I had excited his interest in an extraordinary manner, andI did not like his scrutiny. He was, without exception, the mostmurderous-looking villain I have ever had the misfortune to meet: thatwas the deliberate opinion I came to before I formed a closeracquaintance with him. He was a broad-chested, powerful-looking manof medium height; his hands he kept concealed under the large cloth_poncho_ he wore, and he had on a slouch hat that just allowedhis eyes to be seen under the rim. They were truculent, yellowish-greeneyes, that seemed to grow fiery and dim and fiery again by turns, yetnever for a single instant were they averted from my face. His blackhair hung to his shoulders, and he also had a bristly moustache, whichdid not conceal his brutal mouth, nor was there any beard to hide hisbroad, swarthy jowl. His jaws were the only part of him that had anymotion, while he stood there, still as a bronze statue, watching me. At intervals he ground his teeth, after which he would slap his lipstogether two or three times, while a slimy froth, most sickening tosee, gathered at the corners of his mouth. 

"Gandara, you are not drinking, " said one of the gauchos, turning tohim. He shook his head slightly without speaking or taking his eyesoff my face; whereupon the man who had spoken smiled and resumed hisconversation with the others. 

The long, intense, soul-trying scrutiny this brutal wretch had subjectedme to came to a very sudden end. Quick as lightning a long, broad knifeflashed out from its concealment under his _poncho_, and with onecat-like bound he was before me, the point of his horrid weapon touchingmy _poncho_ just over the pit of my stomach. 

"Do not move, rebel, " he said in a husky voice. "If you move one hair'sbreadth, that moment you die. "

The other men all ceased talking and looked on with some interest, butdid not offer to interfere or make any remark. 

For one moment I felt as if an electric shock had gone through me, andthen instantly I was calm--never, in fact, have I felt more calm andcollected than at that terrible moment. 'Tis a blessed instinct ofself-preservation which nature has provided us with; feeble, timid menpossess it in common with the strong and brave, as weak, persecutedwild animals have it as well as those that are fierce and bloodthirsty. It is the calm which comes without call when death suddenly andunexpectedly rises up to stare us in the face; it tells us that thereis one faint chance which a premature attempt to escape or even aslight agitation will destroy. 

"I have no wish to move, friend, " I said, "but I am curious to knowwhy you attack me?"

"Because you are a rebel. I have seen you before, you are one of SantaColoma's officers. Here you shall stand with this knife touching youtill you are arrested, or else with this knife in you here you shalldie. "

"You are making a mistake, " I said. 

"Neighbours, " said he, speaking to the others, but without taking hiseyes from my face, "will you tie this man hand and foot while I standbefore him to prevent him from drawing any weapon he may have concealedunder his _poncho_?"

"We have not come here to arrest travellers, " returned one of the men. "If he is a rebel it is no concern of ours. Perhaps you are mistaken, Gandara. "

"No, no, I am not mistaken, " he returned. "He shall not escape. I sawhim at San Paulo with these eyes--when did they ever deceive me? Ifyou refuse to assist me, then go one of you to the Alcalde's house andtell him to come without delay, while I keep guard here. "

After a little discussion one of the men offered to go and inform theAlcalde. When he had left, I said, "My friend, may I finish my meal?I am hungry, and had just begun to eat when you drew your knife againstme. "

"Yes; eat, " he said; "only keep your hands well up so that I can seethem. Perhaps you have a weapon at your waist. "

"I have not, " I said, "for I am an inoffensive person and do not requireweapons. "

"Tongues were made to lie, " he returned, truly enough. "If I see youdrop your hand lower than the counter I shall rip you up. We shallthen be able to see whether you digest your food or not. "

I began to eat and sip my wine, still with those brutal eyes on myface and the keen knife-point touching my _poncho_. There was nowa ghastly look of horrible excitement on his face, while histeeth-grinding performances became more frequent and the slimy frothdropped continually from the corners of his mouth on to his bosom. Idared not look at the knife, because a terrible impulse to wrest itout of his hands kept rising in me. It was almost too strong to beovercome, yet I knew that even the slightest attempt to escape wouldbe fatal to me; for the fellow was evidently thirsty for my blood andonly wanted an excuse to run me through. But what, I thought, if hewere to grow tired of waiting, and, carried away by his murderousinstincts, to plunge his weapon into me? In that case I should dielike a dog, without having availed myself of my one chance of escapethrough over-caution. These thoughts were maddening, still through itall I laboured to observe an outwardly calm demeanour. 

My supper was done. I began to feel strangely weak and nervous. Mylips grew dry; I was intensely thirsty and longed for more wine, yetdared not take it for fear that in my excited state even a very moderateamount of alcohol might cloud my brain. 

"How long will it take your friend to return with the Alcalde?" I askedat length. 

Gandara made no reply. "A long time, " said one of the other men. "I, for one, cannot wait till he comes, " and after that he took hisdeparture. One by one they now began to drop away, till only two menbesides Gandara remained in the porch. Still that murderous wretchkept before me like a tiger watching its prey, or rather like a wildboar, gnashing and foaming, and ready to rip up its adversary withhorrid tusk. 

At length I made an appeal to him, for I began to despair of the Alcaldecoming to deliver me. "Friend, " I said, "if you will allow me to speak, I can convince you that you are mistaken. I am a foreigner, and knownothing about Santa Coloma. "

"No, no, " he interrupted, pressing the knife-point warningly againstmy stomach, then suddenly withdrawing it as if about to plunge it intome. "I know you are a rebel. If I thought the Alcalde were not comingI would run you through at once and cut your throat afterwards. It isa virtue to kill a Blanco traitor, and if you do not go bound hand andfoot from here then here you must die. What, do you dare to say thatI did not see you at San Paulo--that you are not an officer of SantaColoma? Look, rebel, I will swear on this cross that I saw you there. "

Suiting the action to the word, he raised the hilt of the weapon tohis lips to kiss the guard, which with the handle formed a cross. Thatpious action was the first slip he had made, and gave the firstopportunity that had come to me during all that terrible interview. Before he had ceased speaking, the conviction that my time had comeflashed like lightning through my brain. Just as his slimy lips kissedthe hilt, my right hand dropped to my side and grasped the handle ofmy revolver under my _poncho_. He saw the movement, and veryquickly recovered the handle of his knife. In another second of timehe would have driven the blade through me; but that second was all Inow required. Straight from my waist, and from under my _poncho_, I fired. His knife fell ringing on to the floor; he swerved, then fellback, coming to the ground with a heavy thud. Over his falling bodyI leaped, and almost before he had touched the ground was several yardsaway, then, wheeling round, I found the other two men rushing out afterme. 

"Back!" I shouted, covering the foremost of the two with my revolver. 

They instantly stood still. 

"We are not following you, friend, " said one, "but only wish to getout of the place. "

"Back, or I fire!" I repeated, and then they retreated into the porch. They had stood by unconcerned while their cut-throat comrade Gandarawas threatening my life, so that I naturally felt angry with them. 

I sprang upon my horse, but, instead of riding away at once, stood forsome minutes by the gate watching the two men. They were kneeling byGandara, one opening his clothes to look for the wound, the otherholding a flaring candle over his ashen, corpse-like face. 

"Is he dead?" I asked. 

One of the men looked up and answered, "It appears so. "

"Then, " I returned, "I make you a present of his carcass. "

After that, digging my spurs into my horse, I galloped away. 

Some readers might imagine, after what I had related, that my sojournin the Purple Land had quite brutalised me; I am happy to inform themthat it was not so. Whatever a man's individual character may happento be, he has always a strong inclination in him to reply to an attackin the spirit in which it is made. He does not call the person whoplayfully ridicules his foibles a whitened sepulchre or an unspeakablescoundrel, and the same principle holds good when it comes to actualphysical fighting. If a French gentleman were to call me out, I daresayI should go to the encounter twirling my moustache, bowing down to theground, all smiles and compliments; and that I should select my rapierwith a pleasant kind of feeling, like that experienced by the satiristabout to write a brilliant article while picking out a pen with asuitable nib. On the other hand, if a murderous brute with truculenteyes and gnashing teeth attempts to disembowel me with a butcher'sknife, the instinct of self-preservation comes out in all its oldoriginal ferocity, inspiring the heart with such implacable fury thatafter spilling his blood I could spurn his loathsome carcass with myfoot. I do not wonder at myself for speaking those savage words. Thathe was past recall seemed certain, yet not a shade of regret did Ifeel at his death. Joy at the terrible retribution I had been able toinflict on the murderous wretch was the only emotion I experiencedwhen galloping away into the darkness--such joy that I could have sungand shouted aloud had it not seemed imprudent to indulge in suchexpression of feeling. 

CHAPTER XXI

After my terrible adventure I did not rest badly that night, albeitI slept on an empty stomach (the sardines counting as nothing), andunder the vast, void sky, powdered with innumerable stars. And whenI proceeded next day on my journey, _God's light_, as the piousOrientals call the first wave of glory with which the rising sun floodsthe world, had never seemed so pleasant to my eyes, nor had earth everlooked fresher or lovelier, with the grass and bushes everywhere hungwith starry lace, sparkling with countless dewy gems, which the_epeiras_ had woven overnight. Life seemed very sweet to me onthat morning, so softening my heart that when I remembered the murderouswretch who had endangered it I almost regretted that he was now probablyblind and deaf to nature's sweet ministrations. 

Before noon I came to a large, thatched house, with clumps of shadytrees growing near it, also surrounded with brushwood fences and sheepand cattle enclosures. 

The blue smoke curling peacefully up from the chimney and the whitegleam of the walls through the shady trees--for this _rancho_actually boasted a chimney and whitewashed walls--looked exceedinglyinviting to my tired eyes. How pleasant a good breakfast, with a longsiesta in the shade after it, would be, thought I; but, alas! was Inot pursued by the awful phantoms of political vengeance? Uncertainwhether to call or not, my horse jogged straight on towards the house, for a horse always knows when his rider is in doubt and never failsat such times to give his advice. It was lucky for me that on thisoccasion I condescended to take it. "I will, at all events, call fora drink of water and see what the people are like, " I thought, and ina few minutes I was standing at the gate, apparently an object of greatinterest to half a dozen children ranging from two to thirteen yearsold, all staring at me with wide-open eyes. They had dirty faces, thesmallest one dirty legs also, for he or she wore nothing but a smallshirt. The next in size had a shirt supplemented with a trousers-likegarment reaching to the knees; and so on, progressively, up to thebiggest boy, who wore the cast-off parental toggery, and so, insteadof having too little on, was, in a sense, overdressed. I asked thisyoungster for a can of water to quench my thirst and a stick of fireto light my cigar. He ran into the kitchen, or living-room, and by andby came out again without either water or fire. "_Papita_ wishesyou to come in to drink _maté_, " said he. 

Then I dismounted, and, with the careless air of a blameless, non-political person, strode into the spacious kitchen, where an immensecauldron of fat was boiling over a big fire on the hearth; while besideit, ladle in hand, sat a perspiring, greasy-looking woman of aboutthirty. She was engaged in skimming the fat and throwing the scum onthe fire, which made it blaze with a furious joy and loudly cry outin a crackling voice for more; and from head to feet she was literallybathed in grease--certainly the most greasy individual I had ever seen. It was not easy under the circumstances to tell the colour of her skin, but she had fine large Juno eyes, and her mouth was unmistakablygood-humoured, as she smiled when returning my salutation. Her husbandsat on the clay floor against the wall, his bare feet stretched straightout before him, while across his lap lay an immense surcingle, twentyinches broad at least, of a pure white, untanned hide; and on it hewas laboriously working a design representing an ostrich hunt, withthreads of black skin. He was a short, broad-shouldered man withreddish-grey hair, stiff, bristly whiskers and moustache of the samehue, sharp blue eyes, and a nose decidedly upturned. 

He wore a red cotton handkerchief tied on his head, a blue check shirt, and a shawl wound round his body in place of the _chiripà_ usuallyworn by native peasants. He jerked out his _"Buen dia"_ to me ina short, quick, barking voice, and invited me to sit down. 

"Cold water is bad for the constitution at this hour, " he said. "Wewill drink _maté. "_

There was such a rough, burr-like sound in his speech that I at onceconcluded he was a foreigner, or hailed from some Oriental districtcorresponding to our Durham or Northumberland. 

"Thank you, " I said, "a _maté_ is always welcome. I am an Orientalin that respect if in nothing else. " For I wished everyone I met toknow that I was not a native. 

"Right, my friend, " he exclaimed. _"Maté_ is the best thing inthis country. As for the people, they are not worth cursing. "

"How can you say such a thing, " I returned. "You are a foreigner, Isuppose, but your wife is surely an Oriental. "

The Juno of the grease-pot smiled and threw a ladleful of tallow onthe fire to make it roar; possibly this was meant for applause. 

He waved his hand deprecatingly, the bradawl used for his work in it. 

"True, friend, she is, " he replied. "Women, like horned cattle, aremuch the same all the world over. They have their value wherever youfind them--America, Europe, Asia. We know it. I spoke of men. "

"You scarcely do women justice--

 _La mujer es un angel del cielo, "_

I returned, quoting the old Spanish song. 

He barked out a short little laugh. 

"That does very well to sing to a guitar, " he said. 

"Talking of guitars, " spoke the woman, addressing me for the firsttime; "while we are waiting for the _maté, _ perhaps you will singus a ballad. The guitar is lying just behind you. "

"Señora, I do not play on it, " I answered. "An Englishman goes forthinto the world without that desire, common to people of other nations, of making himself agreeable to those he may encounter on his way; thisis why he does not learn to perform on musical instruments. "

The little man stared at me; then, deliberately disencumbering himselfof surcingle, threads, and implements, he got up, advanced to me, andheld out his hand. 

His grave manner almost made me laugh. Taking his hand in mine, I said:

"What am I to do with this, my friend?"

"Shake it, " he replied. "We are countrymen. "

We then shook hands very vigorously for some time in silence, whilehis wife looked on with a smile and stirred the fat. 

"Woman, " he said, turning to her, "leave your grease till tomorrow. Breakfast must be thought of. Is there any mutton in the house?"

"Half a sheep--only, " she replied. 

"That will do for one meal, " said he. "Here, Teofilo, run and tellAnselmo to catch two pullets--fat ones, mind. To be plucked at once. You may look for half a dozen fresh eggs for your mother to put in thestew. And, Felipe, go find Cosme and tell him to saddle the roan ponyto go to the store at once. Now, wife, what is wanted--rice, sugar, vinegar, oil, raisins, pepper, saffron, salt, cloves, cummin seed, wine, brandy--"

"Stop one moment, " I cried. "If you think it necessary to get provisionsenough for an army to give me breakfast, I must tell you that I drawthe line at brandy. I never touch it--in this country. "

He shook hands with me again. 

"You are right, " he said. "Always stick to the native drink, whereveryou are, even if it is black draught. Whisky in Scotland, in the BandaOrientál rum--that's my rule. "

The place was now in a great commotion, the children saddling ponies, shouting in pursuit of fugitive chickens, and my energetic host orderinghis wife about. 

After the boy was despatched for the things and my horse taken careof, we sat for half an hour in the kitchen sipping _maté_ andconversing very agreeably. Then my host took me out into his gardenbehind the house to be out of his wife's way while she was engagedcooking breakfast, and there he began talking in English. 

"Twenty-five years I have been on this continent, " said he, tellingme his history, "eighteen of them in the Banda Orientál. "

"Well, you have not forgotten your language, " I said. "I suppose youread?"

"Read! What! I would as soon think of wearing trousers. No, no, myfriend, never read. Leave politics alone. When people molest you, shoot 'em--those are my rules. Edinburgh was my home. Had enoughreading when I was a boy; heard enough psalm-singing, saw enoughscrubbing and scouring to last me my lifetime. My father was a booksellerin the High Street, near the Cowgate--you know! Mother, she waspious—they were all pious. Uncle, a minister, lived with us. Thatwas all worse than purgatory to me. I was educated at the HighSchool--intended for the ministry, ha, ha! My only pleasure was toget a book of travels in some savage country, skulk into my room, throwoff my boots, light a pipe, and lie on the floor reading--locked up fromeveryone. Sundays just the same, They called me a sinner, said I wasgoing to the devil--fast. It was my nature. They didn't understand--kepton ding-donging in my ears. Always scrubbing, scouring--you might haveeaten your dinner off the floor; always singing psalms--praying--scolding. Couldn't bear it; ran away at fifteen, and have never heard aword from home since. What happened? I came here, worked, saved, boughtland, cattle; married a wife, lived as I liked to live--am happy. There'smy wife--mother of six children--you have seen her yourself, a woman fora man to be proud of. No ding-donging, black looks, scouring from Mondayto Saturday--you couldn't eat your dinner off my kitchen floor. There aremy children, six of 'em, all told, boys and girls, healthy, dirty asthey like to be, happy as the day's long; and here am I, JohnCarrickfergus--Don Juan all the country over, my surname no native canpronounce--respected, feared, loved; a man his neighbour can rely on todo him a good turn; one who never hesitates about putting a bullet in anyvulture, wild cat, or assassin that crosses his path. Now you know all. "

"An extraordinary history, " I said, "but I suppose you teach yourchildren something?"

"Teach 'em nothing, " he returned, with emphasis. "All we think aboutin the old country are books, cleanliness, clothes; what's good forsoul, brain, stomach; and we make 'em miserable. Liberty foreveryone--that's my rule. Dirty children are healthy, happy children. If a bee stings you in England, you clap on fresh dirt to cure thepain. Here we cure all kinds of pain with dirt. If my child is ill Idig up a spadeful of fresh mould and rub it well--best remedy out. I'mnot religious, but I remember _one_ miracle. The Saviour spat onthe ground and made mud with the spittle to anoint the eyes of theblind man. Made him see directly. What does that mean? Common remedyofthe country, of course. _He_ didn't need the clay, but followedthe custom, same as in the other miracles. In Scotland dirt'swickedness--how'd they reconcile that with Scripture? I don't say_Nature_, mind, I say, _Scripture_, because the Bible's thebook they swear by, though they didn't write it. "

"I shall think over what you say about children, and the best way torear them, " I returned. "I needn't decide in a hurry, as I haven't anyyet. "

He barked his short laugh and led me back to the house, where thearrangements for breakfast were now completed. The children took theirmeal in the kitchen, we had ours in a large, cool room adjoining it. There was a small table laid with a spotless white cloth, and realcrockery plates and real knives and forks. There were also real glasstumblers, bottles of Spanish wine, and snow-white _pan creollo_. Evidently my hostess had made good use of her time. She came inimmediately after we were seated, and I scarcely recognized her; forshe was not only clean now, but good-looking as well, with that richolive colour on her oval face, her black hair well arranged, and herdark eyes full of tender, loving light. She was now wearing a whitemerino dress with a quaint maroon-coloured pattern on it, and a whitesilk kerchief fastened with a gold brooch at her neck. It was pleasantto look at her, and, noticing my admiring glances, she blushed whenshe sat down, then laughed. The breakfast was excellent. Roast muttonto begin, then a dish of chickens stewed with rice, nicely flavouredand coloured with red Spanish _pimenton_. A fowl roasted or boiled, as we eat them in England, is wasted, compared with this delicious_guiso de potto_ which one gets in any _rancho_ in the BandaOrient. After the meats we sat for an hour cracking walnuts, sipping wine, smoking cigarettes, and telling amusing stories; and Idoubt whether there were three happier people in all Uruguay thatmorning than the un-Scotched Scotchman, John Carrickfergus, hisun-ding-donging native wife, and their guest, who had shot his man onthe previous evening. 

After breakfast I spread my _poncho_ on the dry grass under atree to sleep the siesta. My slumbers lasted a long time, and on wakingI was surprised to find my host and hostess seated on the grass nearme, he busy ornamenting his surcingle, she with the _maté_-cupin her hand and a kettle of hot water beside her. She was drying hereyes, I fancied, when I opened mine. 

"Awake at last!" cried Don Juan pleasantly. "Come and drink _maté_. Wife just been crying, you see. "

She made a sign for him to hold his peace. 

"Why not speak of it, Candelaria?" he said. "Where is the harm? Yousee, my wife thinks you have been in the wars--a Santa Coloma manrunning away to save his throat. "

"How does she make that out?" I asked in some confusion and very muchsurprised. 

"How! Don't you know women? You said nothing about where you hadbeen--prudence. That was one thing. Looked confused when we talked ofthe revolution--not a word to say about it. More evidence. Your_poncho_, lying there, shows two big cuts in it. 'Torn by thorns, 'said I. 'Sword-cuts, ' said she. We were arguing about it when youwoke. "

"She guessed rightly, " I said, "and I am ashamed of myself for nottelling you before. But why should your wife cry?"

"Woman like--woman like, " he answered, waving his hand. "Always readyto cry over the beaten one--that is the only politics they know. "

"Did I not say that woman is an angel from heaven, " I returned; then, taking her hand, I kissed it. "This is the first time I have kisseda married woman's hand, but the husband of such a wife will know betterthan to be jealous. "

"Jealous--ha, ha!" he laughed. "It would have made me prouder if youhad kissed her cheek. "

"Juan--a nice thing to say!" exclaimed his wife, slapping his handtenderly. 

Then while we sipped _maté_ I told them the history of my campaign, finding it necessary, when explaining my motives for joining the rebels, to make some slight deviations from the strictest form of truth. Heagreed that my best plan was to go on to Rocha to wait there for apassport before proceeding to Montevideo. But I was not allowed toleave them that day; and, while we talked over our _maté_, Candelaria deftly repaired the tell-tale cuts in my _poncho_. 

I spent the afternoon making friends with the children, who proved tobe very intelligent and amusing little beggars, telling them somenonsensical stories I invented, and listening to their bird's-nesting, armadillo-chasing, and other adventures. Then came a late dinner, afterwhich the children said their prayers and retired, then we smoked andsang songs without an accompaniment, and I finished a happy day bysinking to sleep in a soft, clean bed. 

I had announced my intention of leaving at daybreak next morning; andwhen I woke, finding it already light, I dressed hastily, and, goingout, found my horse already saddled standing, with three other saddledhorses, at the gate. In the kitchen I found Don Juan, his wife, andthe two biggest boys having their early _maté_. My host told methat he had been up an hour, and was only waiting to wish me aprosperous journey before going out to gather up his cattle. He atonce wished me good-bye, and with his two boys went off, leaving meto partake of poached eggs and coffee--quite an English breakfast. 

I then rose and thanked the good señora for her hospitality. 

"One moment, " she said, when I held out my hand, and, drawing a smallsilk bag from her bosom, she offered it to me. "My husband has givenme permission to present you with this at parting. It is only a smallgift, but while you are in this trouble and away from all your friendsit perhaps might be of use to you. "

I did not wish to take money from her after all the kind treatment Ihad received, and so allowed the purse to lie on my open hand whereshe had placed it. 

"And if I cannot accept it----" I began. 

"Then you will hurt me very much, " she replied. "Could you do thatafter the kind words you spoke yesterday?"

I could not resist, but, after putting the purse away, took her handand kissed it. 

"Good-bye, Candelaria, " I said, "you have made me love your countryand repent every harsh word I have ever spoken against it. "

Her hand remained in mine; she stood smiling, and did not seem to thinkthe last word had been spoken yet. Then, seeing her there looking sosweet and loving, and remembering the words her husband had spoken theday before, I stooped and kissed her cheek and lips. 

"Adieu, my friend, and God be with you, " she said. 

I think there were tears in her eyes when I left her, but I could notsee clearly, for mine also had suddenly grown dim. 

And only the day before I had felt amused at the sight of this womansitting hot and greasy over her work, and had called her Juno of thegrease-pot! Now, after an acquaintance of about eighteen hours, I hadactually kissed her--a wife and the mother of six children, biddingher adieu with trembling voice and moist eyes! I know that I shallnever forget those eyes, full of sweet, pure affection and tendersympathy, looking into mine; all my life long shall I think ofCandelaria, loving her like a sister. Could any woman in my ownultra-civilised and excessively proper country inspire me with a feelinglike that in so short a time? I fancy not. Oh, civilisation, with yourmillion conventions, soul and body withering prudishnesses, vaineducation for the little ones, going to church in best black clothes, unnatural craving for cleanliness, feverish striving after comfortsthat bring no comfort to the heart, are you a mistake altogether?Candelaria and that genial runaway John Carrickfergus make me thinkso. Ah, yes, we are all vainly seeking after happiness in the wrongway. It was with us once and ours, but we despised it, for it was onlythe old, common happiness which Nature gives to all her children, andwe went away from it in search of another grander kind of happinesswhich some dreamer--Bacon or another--assured us we should find. Wehad only to conquer Nature, find out her secrets, make her our obedientslave, then the earth would be Eden, and every man Adam and every WomanEve. We are still marching bravely on, conquering Nature, but how wearyand sad we are getting! The old joy in life and gaiety of heart havevanished, though we do sometimes pause for a few moments in our longforced march to watch the labours of some pale mechanician seekingafter perpetual motion and indulge in a little dry, cackling laugh athis expense. 

CHAPTER XXII

After leaving John and Candelaria's home of liberty and love, nothingfurther worth recording happened till I had nearly reached the desiredhaven of the Lomas de Rocha, a place which I was, after all, neverdestined to see except from a great distance. A day unusually brillianteven for this bright climate was drawing to a close, it being withinabout two hours of sunset, when I turned out of my way to ascend ahill with a very long, ridge-like summit, falling away at one end, appearing like the last sierra of a range just where it dies down intothe level plain; only in this instance the range itself did not exist. The solitary hill was covered with short tussocks of yellow, wirygrass, with occasional bushes, while near the summit large slabs ofsandstone appeared just above the surface, looking like gravestonesin some old village churchyard, with all their inscriptions obliteratedby time and weather. From this elevation, which was about a hundredfeet above the plain, I wished to survey the country before me, forI was tired and hungry, so was my horse, and I was anxious to find aresting-place before night. Before me the country stretched away invast undulations towards the ocean, which was not, however, in sight. Not the faintest stain of vapour appeared on the immense crystallinedome of heaven, while the stillness and transparency of the atmosphereseemed almost preternatural. A blue gleam of water, south-east of whereI stood and many leagues distant, I took to be the lake of Rocha; onthe western horizon were faint blue cloud-like masses with pearlypeaks. They were not clouds, however, but the sierras of the rangeweirdly named _Cuchilla de las Animas_--Ghost-haunted Mountains. At length, like a person who puts his binocular into his pocket andbegins to look about him, I recalled my vision from its wanderingsover illimitable space to examine the objects close at hand. On theslope of the hill, sixty yards from my standpoint, were some deepgreen, dwarf bushes, each bush looking in that still brilliant sunshineas if it had been hewn out of a block of malachite; and on the palepurple solanaceous flowers covering them some humble-bees were feeding. It was the humming of the bees coming distinctly to my ears that firstattracted my attention to the bushes; for so still was the atmospherethat at that distance apart--sixty yards--two persons might haveconversed easily without raising their voices. Much farther down, abouttwo hundred yards from the bushes, a harrier hawk stood on the ground, tearing at something it had captured, feeding in that savage, suspiciousmanner usual with hawks, with long pauses between the bites. Over theharrier hovered a brown milvago hawk, a vulture-like bird in its habits, that lives by picking up unconsidered trifles. Envious at the other'sgood fortune, or fearing, perhaps, that not even the crumbs or feathersof the feast were going to be left, it was persecuting the harrier bydarting down at intervals with an angry cry and aiming a blow with itswing. The harrier methodically ducked its head each time its tormentorrushed down at it, after which it would tear its prey again in itsuncomfortable manner. Farther away, in the depression running alongat the foot of the hill, meandered a small stream so filled with aquaticgrasses and plants that the water was quite concealed, its courseappearing like a vivid green snake, miles long, lying there baskingin the sunshine. At the point of the stream nearest to me an old manwas seated on the ground, apparently washing himself, for he wasstooping over a little pool of water, while behind him stood his horsewith patient, drooping head, occasionally switching off the flies withits tail. A mile farther on stood a dwelling, which looked to me likean old _estancia_ house, surrounded by large shade trees growingsingly or in irregular clumps. It was the only house near, but aftergazing at it for some time I concluded that it was uninhabited. Foreven at that distance I could see plainly that there were no humanbeings moving about it, no horse or other domestic animal near, andthere were certainly no hedges or enclosures of any description. 

Slowly I went down the hill, and to the old man sitting beside thestream. I found him engaged in the seemingly difficult operation ofdisentangling a luxuriant crop of very long hair, which hadsomehow--possibly from long neglect--got itself into great confusion. He had dipped his head into the water, and with an old comb, boastingabout seven or eight teeth, was laboriously and with infinite patiencedrawing out the long hairs, a very few at a time. After saluting him, I lit a cigarette, and, leaning on the neck of my horse, watched hisefforts for some time with profound interest. He toiled away in silencefor five or six minutes, then dipped his head in the water again, and, while carefully wringing the wet out, he remarked that my horse lookedtired. 

"Yes, " I replied; "so is his rider. Can you tell me who lives in that_estancia_?"

"My master, " he returned laconically. 

"Is he a good-hearted man--one who will give shelter to a stranger?"I asked. 

He took a very long time to answer me, then said:

"He has nothing to say about such matters. "

"An invalid?" I remarked. 

Another long pause; then he shook his head and tapped his foreheadsignificantly; after which he resumed his mermaid task. 

"Demented?" said I. 

He elevated an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing. 

After a long silence, for I was anxious not to irritate him with toomuch questioning, I ventured to remark:

"Well, they will not set the dogs on me, will they?"

He grinned, and said that it was an establishment without dogs. 

I paid him for his information with a cigarette, which he took veryreadily, and seemed to think smoking a pleasant relief after hisdisentangling labours. 

"An _estancia_ without dogs, and where the master has nothing tosay--that sounds strange, " I remarked tentatively, but he puffed onin silence. 

"What is the name of the house?" I said, after remounting my horse. 

"It is a house without a name, " he replied; and after this ratherunsatisfactory interview I left him and slowly went on to the_estancia_. 

On approaching the house I saw that there had formerly been a largeplantation behind it, of which only a few dead stumps now remained, the ditches that had enclosed them being now nearly obliterated. Theplace was ruinous and overgrown with weeds. Dismounting, I led my horsealong a narrow path through a perfect wilderness of wild sunflowers, horehound, red-weed, and thorn-apple, up to some poplar trees wherethere had once been a gate, of which only two or three broken postsremained standing in the ground. From the old gate the path ran on, still through weeds, to the door of the house, which was partly ofstone and partly of red brick, with a very steep, sloping, tiled roof. Beside the ruined gate, leaning against a post, with the hot afternoonsun shining on her uncovered head, stood a woman in a rusty-blackdress. She was about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, and had anunutterably weary, desponding expression on her face, which wascolourless as marble, except for the purple stains under her large, dark eyes. She did not move when I approached her, but raised hersorrowful eyes to my face, apparently feeling little interest in myarrival. 

I took off my hat to salute her, and said:

"Señora, my horse is tired, and I am seeking for a resting-place; canI have shelter under your roof?"

"Yes, _caballero_; why not?" she returned in a voice even moresignificant of sorrow than her countenance. 

I thanked her, and waited for her to lead the way; but she stillremained standing before me with eyes cast down, and a hesitating, troubled look on her face. 

"Señora, " I began, "if a stranger's presence in the house would beinconvenient--"

"No, no, señor, it is not that, " she interrupted quickly. Then, sinkingher voice almost to a whisper, she said: "Tell me, señor, have youcome from the department of Florida? Have you--have you been at SanPaulo?"

I hesitated a little, then answered that I had. 

"On which side?" she asked quickly, with a strange eagerness in hervoice. 

"Ah, señora, " I returned, "why do you ask me, only a poor travellerwho comes for a night's shelter, such a question--"

"Why? Perhaps for your good, señor. Remember, women are not likemen--implacable. A shelter you shall have, señor; but it is best thatI should know. "

"You are right, " I returned, "forgive me for not answering you at once. I was with Santa Coloma--the rebel. "

She held out her hand to me, but, before I could take it, withdrew itand, covering her face, began to cry. Presently recovering herself andturning towards the house, she asked me to follow. 

Her gestures and tears had told me eloquently enough that she toobelonged to the unhappy Blanco party. 

"Have you, then, lost some relation in this fight, señora?" I asked. 

"No, señor, " she replied; "but if our party had triumphed, perhapsdeliverance would have come to me. Ah, no; I lost my relations longago--all except my father. You shall know presently, when you see him, why our cruel enemies refrained from shedding _his_ blood. "

By that time we had reached the house. There had once been a verandahto it, but this had long fallen away, leaving the walls, doors, andwindows exposed to sun and rain. Lichen covered the stone walls, while, in the crevices and over the tiled roof, weeds and grass had flourished;but this vegetation had died with the summer heats and was now parchedand yellow. She led me into a spacious room, so dimly lighted from thelow door and one small window that it seemed quite dark to me comingfrom the bright sunlight. I stood for a few moments trying to accustommy eyes to the gloom, while she, advancing to the middle of theapartment, bent down and spoke to an aged man seated in a leather-boundeasy-chair. 

"Papa, " she said, "I have brought in a young man--a stranger who hasasked for shelter under our roof. Welcome him, papa. "

Then she straightened herself, and, passing behind the chair, stoodleaning on it, facing me. 

"I wish you good day, señor, " I said, advancing with a littlehesitation. 

There before me sat a tall, bent old man, wasted almost to a skeleton, with a grey, desolate face and long hair and beard of a silverwhiteness. He was wrapped in a light-coloured _poncho_, and worea black skull-cap on his head. When I spoke he leant back in his seatandbegan scanning my face with strangely fierce, eager eyes, all thetime twisting his long, thin fingers together in a nervous, excitedmanner. 

"What, Calixto, " he exclaimed at length, "is this the way you comeinto my presence? Ha, you thought I would not recognise you! Down--down, boy, on your knees!"

I glanced at his daughter standing behind him; she was watching myface anxiously, and made a slight inclination with her head. 

Taking this as an intimation to obey the old man's commands, I wentdown on my knees, and touched my lips to the hand he extended. 

"May God give you grace, my son, " he said, with tremulous voice. Thenhe continued: "What, did you expect to find your old father blind then?I would know you amongst a thousand, Calixto. Ah, my son, my son, whyhave you kept away so long? Stand, my son, and let me embrace you. "

He rose up tottering from his chair and threw his arm about me; then, after gazing into my face for some moments, deliberately kissed me onboth cheeks. 

"Ha, Calixto, " he continued, putting his trembling hands upon myshoulders and gazing into my face out of his wild, sunken eyes, "doI need ask where you have been? Where should a Peralta be but in thesmoke of the battle, in the midst of carnage, fighting for the BandaOrientál? I did not complain of your absence, Calixto--Demetria willtell you that I was patient through all these years, for I knew youwould come back to me at last wearing the laurel wreath of victory. And I, Calixto, what have I worn, sitting here? A crown of nettles!Yes, for a hundred years I have worn it--you are my witness, Demetria, my daughter, that I have worn this crown of stinging-nettles for ahundred years. "

He sank back, apparently exhausted, in his chair, and I uttered a sighof relief, thinking the interview was now over. But I was mistaken. His daughter placed a chair for me at his side. "Sit here, señor, andtalk to my father, while I have your horse taken care of, " shewhispered, and then quickly glided from the room. This was rather hardon me, I thought; but while whispering those few words she touched myhand lightly and turned her wistful eyes with a grateful look on mine, and I was glad for her sake that I had not blundered. 

Presently the old man roused himself again and began talking eagerly, asking me a hundred wild questions, to which I was compelled to reply, still trying to keep up the character of the long-lost son just returnedvictorious from the wars. 

"Tell me where you have fought and overcome the enemy, " he exclaimed, raising his voice almost to a scream. "Where have they flown from youlike chaff before the wind?--where have you trodden them down underyour horses' hoofs?--name--name the places and the battles to me, Calixto?"

I felt strongly inclined just then to jump up and rush out of the room, so trying was this mad conversation to my nerves; but I thought of hisdaughter Demetria's white, pathetic face, and restrained the impulse. Then in sheer desperation I began to talk madly as himself. I thoughtI would make him sick of warlike subjects. Everywhere, I cried, we haddefeated, slaughtered, scattered to the four winds of heaven, theinfamous Colorados. From the sea to the Brazilian frontier we havebeen victorious. With sword, lance, and bayonet we have stormed andtaken every town from Tacuarembó to Montevideo. Every river from theYaguaron to the Uruguay had run red with Colorado blood. In forestsand sierras we had hunted them, flying like wild beasts from us; wehad captured them in thousands, only to cut their throats, crucifythem, blow them from guns, and tear them limb by limb to pieces withwild horses. 

I was only pouring oil on the blazing fire of his insanity. 

"Aha!" he shouted, his eyes sparkling, while he wildly clutched my armwith his skinny, claw-like hands, "did I not know--have I not said it?Did I not fight for a hundred years, wading through blood every day, and then at last send you forth to finish the battle? And every dayour enemies came and shouted in my ears, 'Victory--victory!' They toldme you were dead, Calixto--that their weapons had pierced you, thatthey had given your flesh to be devoured of wild dogs. And I shoutedwith laughter to hear them. I laughed in their faces, and clapped myhands and cried out, 'Prepare your throats for the sword, traitors, slaves, assassins, for a Peralta--even Calixto, devoured of wilddogs--is coming to execute vengeance! What, will God not leave onestrong arm to strike at the tyrant's breast--one Peralta in all thisland! Fly, miscreants! Die, wretches! He has risen from the grave--hehas come back from hell, armed with hell-fire to burn your towns toashes--to extirpate you utterly from the earth!'"

His thin, tremulous voice had risen towards the close of this madspeech to a reedy shriek that rang through the quiet, darkening houselike the long, shrill cry of some water-fowl heard at night in thedesolate marshes. 

Then he loosened his hold on my arm and dropped back moaning andshivering into his seat. His eyes closed, his whole frame trembled, and he looked like a person just recovering from an epileptic fit;then he seemed to sink to sleep. It was now getting quite dark, forthe sun had been down some time, and it was with the greatest reliefthat I saw Doña Demetria gliding like a ghost into the room. She touchedme on the arm and whispered, "Come, señor, he is asleep now. "

I followed her out into the fresh air, which had never seemed so freshbefore; then, turning to me, she hurriedly whispered, "Remember, señor, that what you have told me is a secret. Say not one word of it to anyother person here. "

CHAPTER XXIII

She then led me to the kitchen at the end of the house. It was one ofthose roomy, old-fashioned kitchens still to be found in a few_estancia_ houses built in colonial times, in which the fireplace, raised a foot or two above the floor, extends the whole width of theroom. It was large and dimly lighted, the walls and rafters black witha century's smoke and abundantly festooned with sooty cobwebs; but alarge, cheerful fire blazed on the hearth, while before it stood atall, gaunt woman engaged in cooking the supper and serving _maté_. This was Ramona, an old servant on the _estancia_. 

There also sat my friend of the tangled tresses, which he had evidentlysucceeded in combing well out, for they now hung down quite smooth onhis back and as long as a woman's hair. Another person was also seatednear the fire, whose age might have been anything from twenty-five toforty-five, for he had, I think, a mixture of Indian blood in hisveins, and one of those smooth, dry, dark faces that change but littlewith age. He was an undersized, wiry-looking man with a small, intenselyblack moustache, but no whiskers or beard. He seemed to be a personof some consequence in the house, and when my conductress introducedhim to me as "Don Hilario, " he rose to his feet and received me witha profound bow. In spite of his excessive politeness I conceived afeeling of distrust towards him from the moment I saw him; and thiswas because his small, watchful eyes were perpetually glancing at myface in a furtive manner, only to glance swiftly away again wheneverI looked at him; for he seemed quite incapable of meeting the gaze ofanother. We drank _maté_ and talked a little, but were not alively party. Doña Demetria, though she sat with us, scarcelycontributed a word to the conversation; while the long-hairedman--Santos by name, and the only peon on the establishment--smokedhis cigarette and sipped his _maté_ in absolute silence. 

Bony old Ramona at length dished up the supper and carried it out ofthe kitchen; we followed to the large living-room, where I had beenbefore, and gathered round a small table; for these people, thoughapparently poverty-stricken, ate their meals after the manner ofcivilised beings. At the head of the table sat the fierce oldwhite-haired man, staring at us out of his sunken eyes as we entered. Half rising from his seat, he mentioned to me to take a chair nearhim, then, addressing Don Hilario, who sat opposite, he said, "Thisis my son Calixto, just returned from the wars, where, as you know, he has greatly distinguished himself. "

Don Hilario rose and bowed gravely. Demetria took the other end of thetable, while Santos and Ramona occupied the two remaining seats. 

I was greatly relieved to find that the old man's mood had changed;there were no more wild outbursts like the one I had witnessed earlierin the evening; only occasionally he would fix his strange, burningeyes on me in a way that made me exceedingly uncomfortable. We beganthe meal with broth, which we finished in silence; and while we ate, Don Hilario's swift glances incessantly flew from face to face;Demetria, pale and evidently ill at ease, keeping her eyes cast downall the time. 

"Is there no wine this evening, Ramona?" asked the old man in queruloustones when the old woman rose to remove the broth basins. 

"The _master_ has not ordered me to put any on the table, " shereplied with asperity, and strongly emphasising the obnoxious word. 

"What does this mean, Don Hilario?" said the old man, turning to hisneighbour. "My son has just returned after a long absence; are we tohave no wine for an occasion like this?"

Don Hilario, with a faint smile on his lips, drew a key from his pocketand passed it silently to Ramona. She rose, muttering, from the tableand proceeded to unlock a cupboard, from which she took a bottle ofwine. Then, going round the table, she poured out half a tumblerfulfor each person, excepting herself and Santos, who, to judge from hisstolid countenance, did not expect any. 

"No, no, " said old Peralta, "give Santos wine, and pour yourself outa glass also, Ramona. You have both been good, faithful friends to me, and have nursed Calixto in his infancy. It is right that you shoulddrink his health and rejoice with us at his return. "

She obeyed with alacrity, and old Santos' wooden face almost relaxedinto a grin when he received his share of the purple fluid (I canscarcely call it juice) which maketh glad the heart of man. 

Presently old Peralta raised his glass and fixed his fierce, insaneeyes on me. "Calixto, my son, we will drink your health, " he said, "and may the curse of the Almighty fall on our enemies; may theirbodies lie where they fall, till the hawks have consumed their flesh, and their bones have been trodden into dust by the cattle; and maytheir souls be tormented with everlasting fire. "

Silently they all raised their glasses to their lips, but when theyset them down again, the points of Don Hilario's black moustache wereraised as if by a smile, while Santos smacked his lips in token ofenjoyment. 

After this ghastly toast nothing more was spoken by anyone at thetable. In oppressive silence we consumed the roast and boiled meat setbefore us; for I dared not hazard even the most commonplace remark forfear of rousing my volcanic host into a mad eruption. When we hadfinished eating, Demetria rose and brought her father a cigarette. Itwas the signal that supper was over; and immediately afterwards sheleft the room, followed by the two servants. Don Hilario politelyoffered me a cigarette and lit one for himself. For some minutes wesmoked in silence, until the old man gradually dropped to sleep in hischair, after which we rose and went back to the kitchen. Even thatsombre retreat now seemed cheerful after the silence and gloom of thedining-room. Presently Don Hilario got up, and, with many apologiesfor leaving me, explaining that he had been invited to assist at adance at a neighbouring _estancia_, took himself off. Soonafterwards, though it was only about nine o'clock, I was shown to aroom where a bed had been prepared for me. It was a large, musty-smelling apartment, almost empty, there being only my bed anda few tall, upright chairs bound with leather and black with age. Thefloor was tiled, and the ceiling was covered with a dusty canopy ofcobwebs, on which flourished a numerous colony of long-leggedhouse-spiders. I had no disposition to sleep at that early hour, andeven envied Don Hilario, away enjoying himself with the Rocha beauties. My door, looking out to the front, was standing wide open; the fullmoon had just risen and was filling the night with its mystic splendour. Putting out my candle, for the house was now all dark and silent, Isoftly went out for a stroll. Under a clump of trees not far off Ifound an old rustic bench, and sat down on it; for the place was allsuch a tangled wilderness of great weeds that walking was scarcelypracticable and very unpleasant. 

The old, half-ruined house in the midst of the dusky desolation beganto assume in the moonlight a singularly weird and ghost-like appearance. Near me on one side was an irregular row of poplar-trees, and the long, dark lines cast from them by the moon fell across a wide, open spacewhere the rank-growing thorn-apples predominated. In the spaces betweenthe broad bands made by the poplar-tree shadows, the foliage appearedof a dim, hoary blue, starred over with the white blossoms of thisnight-flowering weed. About these flowers several big, grey moths werehovering, suddenly appearing out of the black shadows and when lookedfor, noiselessly vanishing again in their mysterious ghost-like manner. Not a sound disturbed the silence except the faint, melancholy trillof one small night-singing cicada from somewhere near--a faint, aerialvoice that seemed to be wandering lost in infinite space, rising andfloating away in its loneliness, while earth listened, hushed intopreternatural stillness. Presently a large owl came noiselessly flyingby, and, perching on the topmost boughs of a neighbouring tree, beganhooting a succession of monotonous notes, sounding like the baying ofa bloodhound at a vast distance. Another owl by and by responded fromsome far-off quarter, and the dreary duet was kept up for half an hour. Whenever one bird ceased his solemn _boo-boo-boo-boo-boo_, I foundmyself with stilled breath straining my sense to catch the answeringnotes, fearing to stir lest I should lose them. A phosphorescent gleamswept by close to my face, making me start at its sudden appearance, then passed away, trailing a line of faint light over the dusky weeds. The passing firefly served to remind me that I was not smoking, andthe thought then occurred to me that a cigar might possibly have theeffect of relieving me from the strange, indefinable feeling ofdepression that had come over me. I put my hand into my pocket anddrew out a cigar, and bit the end off; but when about to strike a vestaon my matchbox, I shuddered and dropped my hand. 

The very thought of striking a loud, exploding match was unendurableto me, so strangely nervous did I feel. Or possibly it was asuperstitious mood I had fallen into. It seemed to me at that momentthat I had somehow drifted into a region of mystery, peopled only byunearthly, fantastic beings. The people I had supped with did not seemlike creatures of flesh and blood. The small, dark countenance of DonHilario, with its shifty glances and Mephistophelian smile; Demetria'spale, sorrowful face; and the sunken, insane eyes of her old, white-haired father--were all about me in the moonlight and amongstthe tangled greenery. I dared not move; I scarcely breathed; the veryweeds with their pale, dusky leaves were like things that had a ghostlylife. And while I was in this morbid condition of mind, with thatirrational fear momentarily increasing on me, I saw at a distance ofabout thirty yards a dark object, which seemed to move, fluttering inan uncertain way towards me. I gazed intently on it, but it wasmotionless now, and appeared like a black, formless shadow within theshade of the trees. Presently it came again towards me, and, passinginto the clear moonlight, revealed a human figure. It flitted acrossthe bright space and was lost in the shade of other trees; but it stillapproached, a waving, fluttering figure, advancing and receding, butalways coming nearer. My blood turned cold in my veins; I could feelmy hair standing up on my head, until, unable to endure the terriblesuspense longer, I jumped up from my seat. A loud exclamation of terrorcame from the figure, and then I saw that it was Demetria. I stammeredout an apology for frightening her by jumping up, and, finding thatI had recognised her, she advanced to me. 

"Ah, you are not asleep, señor, " said she quietly. "I saw you from mywindow come out here more than an hour ago. Finding you did not return, I began to grow anxious, and thought that, tired with your journey, you had fallen asleep out here. I came to wake you, and to warn youthat it is very dangerous to lie sleeping with your face exposed tothe full moon. "

I explained that I had felt restless and disinclined to sleep, regrettedthat I had caused her anxiety, and thanked her for her thoughtfulkindness. 

Instead of leaving me then, she sat quietly down on the bench. "Señor, "she said, "if it is your intention to continue your journey to-morrow, let me advise you not to do so. You can safely remain here for a fewdays, for in this sad house we have no visitors. "

I told her that, acting on Santa Coloma's advice, given to me beforethe fight, I was going on to the Lomas de Rocha to see a person namedFlorentino Blanco in that place, who would probably be able to procureme a passport from Montevideo. 

"How fortunate it is that you have told me this!" she replied. "Everystranger now entering the Lomas is rigorously examined, and you couldnot possibly escape arrest if you went there. Remain with us, señor;it is a poor house, but we are well disposed towards you. To-morrowSantos shall go with a letter from you to Don Florentino, who is alwaysready to serve us, and he will do what you wish without seeking you. "

I thanked her warmly and accepted the offer of a refuge in her house. Somewhat to my surprise, she still remained seated on the bench. Presently she said:

"It is natural, señor, that you should not be glad to remain in a houseso _triste_. But there will be no repetition of all you wereobliged to endure on first entering it. Whenever my father sees a youngman, a stranger to him, he receives him as he received you to-day, mistaking him for his son. After the first day, however, he loses allinterest in the new face, becoming indifferent, and forgetting all hehas said or imagined. "

This information relieved me, and I remarked that I supposed the lossof his son had been the cause of his malady. 

"You are right; let me tell you how it happened, " she replied. "Forthis _estancia_ must seem to you a place unlike all others in theworld, and it is only natural that a stranger should wish to know thereason of its sad condition. I know that I can speak without fear ofthese things to one who is a friend to Santa Coloma. "

"And to you, I hope, señorita, " I said. 

"Thank you, señor. All my life has been spent here. When I was a childmy brother went into the army, then my mother died, and I was lefthere alone, for the siege of Montevideo had begun and I could not gothere. At length my father received a terrible wound in action and wasbrought here to die, as we thought. For months he lay on his bed, hislife trembling in the balance. Our enemies triumphed at last; the siegewas over, the Blanco leaders dead or driven into exile. My father hadbeen one of the bravest officers in the Blanco forces, and could nothope to escape the general persecution. They only waited for hisrecovery to arrest him and convey him to the capital, where, doubtless, he would have been shot. While he lay in this precarious conditionevery wrong and indignity was heaped upon us. Our horses were seizedby the commander of the department, our cattle slaughtered or drivenoff and sold, while our house was searched for arms and visited everyweek by an officer who came to report on my father's health. One reasonfor this animosity was that Calixto, my brother, had escaped andmaintained a guerilla war against the government on the Brazilianfrontier. At length my father recovered so far from his wounds as tobe able to creep out for an hour every day leaning on someone forsupport; then two armed men were sent to keep guard here to preventhis escape. We were thus living in continual dread when one day anofficer came and produced a written order from the Comandante. He didnot read it to me, but said it was an order for every person in theRocha department to display a red flag on his house in token ofrejoicing at a victory won by the government troops. I told him thatwe did not wish to disobey the Comandante's orders, but had no redflag in the house to hang up. He answered that he had brought one forthat purpose with him. He unrolled it and fastened it to a pole; then, climbing to the roof of the house, he raised and made it fast there. Not satisfied with these insults, he ordered me to wake my father, whowas sleeping, so that he also might see the flag over his house. Myfather came out leaning on my shoulder, and when he had cast up hiseyes and seen the red flag he turned and cursed the officer. 'Go back, 'he cried, 'to the dog, your master, and tell him that Colonel Peraltais still a Blanco in spite of your dishonourable flag. Tell thatinsolent slave of Brazil that when I was disabled I passed my swordon to my son Calixto, who knows how to use it, fighting for hiscountry's independence. ' The officer, who had mounted his horse bythis time, laughed, and, tossing the order from the _comandancia_at our feet, bowed derisively and galloped away. My father picked upthe paper and read these words: 'Let there be displayed on every housein this department a red flag, in token of joy at the happy tidingsof a victory won by the government troops, in which that recreant sonof the republic, the infamous assassin and traitor, Calixto Peralta, was slain!' Alas, señor, loving his son above all things, hoping somuch from him, and enfeebled by long suffering, my poor father couldnot resist this last blow. From that cruel moment he was deprived ofreason; and to that calamity we owe it that he was not put to deathand that our enemies ceased to persecute us. "

Demetria shed some tears when telling me this tragical story. Poorwoman, she had said little or nothing about herself, yet how great andenduring must have been her grief. I was deeply moved, and, taking herhand, told her how deeply her sad story had pained me. Then she roseand bade me good night with a sad smile--sad, but the first smile thathad visited her grief-clouded countenance since I had seen her. I couldwell imagine that even the sympathy of a stranger must have seemedsweet to her in that dreary isolation. 

After she left me I lit my cigar. The night had lost its ghostlycharacter and my fantastic superstitions had vanished. I was back oncemore in the world of men and women, and could only think of theinhumanity of man to man, and of the infinite pain silently enduredby many hearts in that Purple Land. The only mystery still unsolvedin that ruinous _estancia_ was Don Hilario, who locked up thewine and was called _master_ with bitter irony by Ramona, and whohad thought it necessary to apologise to me for depriving me of hisprecious company that evening. 

CHAPTER XXIV

I spent several days with the Peraltas at their desolate, _kineless_ cattle-farm, which was known in the country roundsimply as _Estancia_ or _Campos de Peralta. _ Such wearisomedays they proved to me, and so anxious was I getting about Paquítaaway in Montevideo, that I was more than once on the point of givingup waiting for the passport, which Don Florentino had promised to getfor me, and boldly venture forth without even that fig-leaf into theopen. Demetria's prudent counsels, however, prevailed, so that mydeparture was put off from day to day. The only pleasure I experiencedin the house arose from the belief I entertained that my visit hadmade an agreeable break in the sad, monotonous life of my gentlehostess. Her tragical story had stirred my heart to a very deep pity, and as I grew every day to know her better I began to appreciate andesteem her for her own pure, gentle, self-sacrificing character. Notwithstanding the dreary seclusion in which she had lived, seeingno society, and with only those old servants, so primitive in theirways, for company, there was not the slightest trace of rusticity inher manner. That, however, is not saying much for Demetria, since inmost ladies--most women I might almost say--of Spanish origin thereis anatural grace and dignity of manner one only expects to find inwomen socially well placed in our own country. When we were all togetherat meals, or in the kitchen sipping _maté, _ she was invariablysilent, always with that shadow of some concealed anxiety on her face;but when alone with me, or when only old Santos and Ramona were present, the cloud would be gone, her eyes would lighten up and the rare smilecome more frequently to her lips. Then, at times, she would becomealmost animated in conversation, listening with lively interest to allI told her about the great world of which she was so ignorant, andlaughing, too, at her own ignorance of things known to every town-bredchild. When these pleasant conversations took place in the kitchen thetwo old servants would sit gazing at the face of their mistress, apparently absorbed in admiration. They evidently regarded her as themost perfect being that had ever been created; and, though there wasa ludicrous side to their simple idolatry, I ceased to wonder at itwhen I began to know her better. They reminded me of two faithful dogsalways watching a beloved master's face, and showing in their eyes, glad or pathetic, how they sympathise with all his moods. As for oldColonel Peralta, he did nothing to make me uneasy; after the first dayhe never talked to me, scarcely even noticing my presence except tosalute me in a ceremonious manner when we met at table. He would spendhis day between his easy-chair in the house and the rustic bench underthe trees, where he would sit for hours at a time, leaning forward onhis stick, his preternaturally brilliant eyes watching everythingseemingly with a keen, intelligent interest. But he would not speak. He was waiting for his son, thinking his fierce thoughts to himself. Like a bird blown far out over a tumultuous sea and wandering lost, his spirit was ranging over that wild and troubled past--that half acentury of fierce passions and bloody warfare in which he had acteda conspicuous part. And perhaps it was sometimes even more in thefuture than the past--that glorious future when Calixto, lying far offin some mountain pass, or on some swampy plain with the trailingcreepers covering his bones, should come back victorious from the wars. 

My conversations with Demetria were not frequent, and before long theyceased altogether; for Don Hilario, who was not in harmony with us, was always there, polite, subdued, watchful, but not a man that onecould take into his heart. The more I saw of him the less I liked him;and, though I am not prejudiced about snakes, as the reader alreadyknows, believing as I do that ancient tradition has made us very unjusttowards these interesting children of our universal mother, I can thinkof no epithet except _snaky_ to describe this man. Wherever Ihappened to be about the place he had a way of coming upon me, stealingthrough the weeds on his belly as it were, then suddenly appearingunawares before me; while something in his manner suggested a subtle, cold-blooded, venomous nature. Those swift glances of his, whichperpetually came and went with such bewildering rapidity, reminded me, not of the immovable, stony gaze of the serpent's lidless eyes, butof the flickering little forked tongue, that flickers, flickers, vanishes and flickers again, and is never for one moment at rest. Whowas this man, and what did he there? Why was he, though manifestly notloved by anyone, absolute master of the _estancia_? He never askedme a question about myself, for it was not in his nature to askquestions, but he had evidently formed some disagreeable suspicionsabout me that made him look on me as a possible enemy. After I hadbeen a few days in the house he ceased going out, and wherever I wenthe was always ready to accompany me, or when I met Demetria and beganconversing with her, there he would be to take part in our conversation. 

At length the piece of paper so long waited for came from the Lomasde Rocha, and with that sacred document, testifying that I was a subjectof Her Britannic Majesty, Queen Victoria, all fears and hesitationwere dismissed from my mind and I prepared to depart for Montevideo. 

The instant Don Hilario heard that I was about to leave the_estancia_ his manner toward me changed; he became, in a moment, excessively friendly, pressing me to prolong my visit, also to accepta horse from him as a gift, and saying many kind things about theagreeable moments he had spent in my company. He completely reversedthe old saying about welcome the coming, speed the parting, guest; butI knew very well that he was anxious enough to see the last of me. 

After supper on the eve of my departure he saddled his horse and rodeoff to attend a dance or gathering of some kind at a neighbouring_estancia_, for now that he had recovered from his suspicions hewas very eager to resume the social pleasures my presence had interferedwith. 

I went out to smoke a cigar amongst the trees, it being a very lovelyautumnal evening, with the light of an unclouded new moon to temperthe darkness. I was walking up and down in a narrow path amongst theweeds, thinking of my approaching meeting with Paquíta, when old Santoscame out to me and mysteriously informed me that Doña Demetria wishedto see me. He led me through the large room where we always had ourmeals, then through a narrow, dimly lighted passage into another roomI had not entered before. Though the rest of the house was now indarkness, the old colonel having already retired to bed, it was verylight here, there being about half a dozen candles placed about theroom. In the centre of the floor, with her old face beaming withdelighted admiration, stood Ramona, gazing on another person seatedon the sofa. And on this individual I also gazed silently for sometime; for, though I recognised Demetria in her, she was so changedthat astonishment prevented me from speaking. The rusty grub had comeforth as a splendid green and gold butterfly. She had on a grass-greensilk dress, made in a fashion I had never seen before; extremely highin the waist, puffed out on the shoulders, and with enormous bell-shapedsleeves reaching to the elbows, the whole garment being plentifullytrimmed with very fine cream-coloured lace. Her long, thick hair, whichhad hitherto always been worn in heavy plaits on her back, was nowpiled up in great coils on her head and surmounted by a tortoiseshellcomb a foot high at least, and about fifteen inches broad at the top, looking like an immense crest on her head. In her ears were curiousgold filigree pendants reaching to her bare shoulders; she also worea necklet of half-doubloons linked together in a chain, and heavy goldbracelets on her arms. It was extremely quaint. Possibly this fineryhad belonged to her grandmother a hundred years ago; and I daresaythat bright green was not the proper tint for Demetria's pallidcomplexion; still, I must confess, at the risk of being set down asa barbarian in matters of taste, that it gave me a shock of pleasureto see her. She saw that I was very much surprised, and a blush ofconfusion overspread her face; then, recovering her usual quiet, self-possessed manner, she invited me to sit on the sofa by her. Itook her hand and complimented her on her appearance. She laughed alittle shy laugh, then said that, as I was going to leave her nextday, she did not wish me to remember her only as a woman in rustyblack. I replied that I would always remember her not for the colourand fashion of her garments, but for her great, unmerited misfortunes, her virtuous heart, and for the kindness she had shown to me. My wordsevidently pleased her, and while we sat together conversing pleasantly, before us were Ramona and Santos, one standing, the other seated, bothfeasting their eyes on their mistress in her brilliant attire. Theirdelight was quite open and childlike, and gave an additional zest tothe pleasure I felt. Demetria seemed pleased to think she looked well, and was more light-hearted than I had seen her before. That antiquefinery, which would have been laughable on another woman, somehow orother seemed appropriate to her; possibly because the strange simplicityand ignorance of the world displayed in her conversation, and thatgentle dignity of manner natural to her, would have prevented her fromappearing ridiculous in any costume. 

At length, after we had partaken of _maté_ served by Ramona, theold servants retired from the room, not without many longing, lingeringglances at their metamorphosed mistress. Then somehow or other ourconversation began to languish, Demetria becoming constrained in manner, while that anxious shadow I had grown so familiar with came again likea cloud over her face. Thinking that it was time to leave her, I roseto go, and thanked her for the pleasant evening I had spent, andexpressed a wish that her future would be brighter than her past hadbeen. 

"Thank you, Richard, " she returned, her eyes cast down, and allowingher hand to rest in mine. "But must you leave me so soon?--there isso much I wish to say to you. "

"I will gladly remain and hear it, " I said, sitting down again by herside. 

"My past has been very sad, as you say, Richard, but you do not knowall, " and here she put her handkerchief to her eyes. There were, Inoticed, several beautiful rings on her fingers, and the handkerchiefshe held to her eyes was a dainty little embroidered thing with a laceborder; for everything in her make-up was complete and in keeping thatevening. Even the quaint little shoes she wore were embroidered withsilver thread and had large rosettes on them. After removing thehandkerchief from her face, she continued silent and with eyes castdown, looking very pale and troubled. 

"Demetria, " I said, "tell me how I can serve you? I cannot guess thenature of the trouble you speak of, but if it is one I can help youout of, speak to me without reserve. "

"Perhaps you can help me, Richard. It was of this matter I wished tospeak this evening. But now--how can I speak of it?"

"Not to one who is your friend, Demetria? I wish you could think thatthe spirit of your lost brother Calixto was here in me, for I am asready to help you as he would have been; and I know, Demetria, thatyou were very dear to him. "

Her face flushed, and for a moment her eyes met mine; then, castingthem down again, she replied sadly, "It is impossible! I can say nomore to you now. My heart oppresses me so that my lips refuse to speak. To-morrow, perhaps. "

"To-morrow morning I leave you, and there will be no opportunity ofspeaking, " I said. "Don Hilario will be here watching you, and, thoughhe is so much in the house, I cannot believe that you trust him. "

She started at the name of Don Hilario, and cried a little in silence;then suddenly she rose and gave me her hand to bid good night. "Youshall know everything to-morrow, Richard, " she said. "Then you willknow how much I trust you and how little I trust him. I cannot speakmyself, but I can trust Santos, who knows everything, and he shalltell you all. "

There was a sad, wistful look in her eyes when we parted that hauntedme for hours afterwards. Coming into the kitchen, I disturbed Ramonaand Santos deep in a whispered consultation. They started up, lookingsomewhat confused; then, when I had lit a cigar and turned to go out, they got up and went back to their mistress. 

While I smoked I pondered over the strange evening I had passed, wondering very much what Demetria's secret trouble could be. "Themystery of the green butterfly, " I called it; but it was really alltoo sad even for a mental joke, though a little timely laughter isoften the best weapon to meet trouble with, sometimes having an effectlike that of a gay sunshade suddenly opened in the face of an angrybull. Unable to solve the riddle, I retired to my room to sleep mylast sleep under Peralta's dreary roof. 

CHAPTER XXV

About eight o'clock next morning I bade the Peraltas goodbye, and setout on my long-delayed journey, still mounted on that dishonestlyacquired steed that had served me so well, for I had declined the goodHilario's offer of a horse. Though all my toils, wanderings, and manyservices to the cause of liberty (or whatever people fight for in theBanda) had not earned me one copper coin, it was some comfort to thinkthat Candelaria's never-to-be-forgotten generosity had saved me frombeing penniless; I was, in fact, returning to Paquíta well dressed, on a splendid horse, and with dollars enough in my pocket to take uscomfortably out of the country. Santos rode out with me, ostensiblyto put me on the right road to Montevideo; only I knew, of course, that he was the bearer of an important communication from Demetria. When we had ridden about half a league without any approach to thesubject on his part, in spite of sundry hints I threw out, I asked himplainly if he had a message for me. 

After pondering over the question for as long a time as would benecessary to work out a rather difficult mathematical problem, heanswered that he had. 

"Then, " said I, "let me hear it. "

He grinned. "Do you think, " he said, "that it is a thing to be spokenin half a dozen words? I have not come all this distance merely to saythat the moon came in dry, or that yesterday, being Friday, DoñaDemetria tasted no meat. It is a long story, señor. "

"How many leagues long? Do you intend it to last all the way toMontevideo? The longer it is the sooner you ought to begin it. "

"There are things easy to say, and there are other things not so easy, "returned Santos. "But as to saying anything on horseback, who coulddo that?"

"Why not?"

"The question!" said he. "Have you not observed that when liquor isdrawn from a cask--wine, or bitter orange-juice to make orangeade, oreven rum, which is by nature white and clear--that it runs thick whenthe cask is shaken? It is the same with us, señor; our brain is thecask out of which we draw all the things we say. "

"And the spigot--"

"That is so, " he struck in, pleased with my ready intelligence; "themouth is the spigot. "

"I should have thought the nose more like the spigot, " I replied. 

"No, " he gravely returned. "You can make a loud noise with the nosewhen you snore or blow it in a handkerchief; but it has no door ofcommunication with the brain. The things that are in the brain flowout by the mouth. "

"Very well, " said I, getting impatient, "call the mouth spigot, bung-hole, or what you like, and the nose merely an ornament on thecask. The thing is this: Doña Demetria has entrusted you with someliquor to pass on to me; now pass it, thick or clear. "

"Not thick, " he answered stubbornly. 

"Very well; clear then, " I shouted. 

"To give it to you clear I must give it off and not on my horse, sittingstill and not moving. "

Anxious to have it over without more beating about the bush, I reinedup my horse, jumped off, and sat down on the grass without anotherword. He followed my example, and, after seating himself in acomfortable position, deliberately drew out his tobacco-pouch and beganmaking a cigarette. I could not quarrel with him for this furtherdelay, for without the soothing, stimulating cigarette an Orientalfinds it difficult to collect his thoughts. Leaving him to carry outhis instructions in his own laborious fashion, I vented my irritationon the grass, plucking it up by handfuls. 

"Why do you do that?" he asked, with a grin. 

"Pluck grass? What a question! When a person sits down on the grass, what is the first thing he does?"

"Makes a cigarette, " he returned. 

"In my country he begins plucking up the grass, " I said. 

"In the Banda Orientál we leave the grass for the cattle to eat, " saidhe. 

I at once gave up pulling the grass, for it evidently distracted hismind, and, lighting a cigarette, began smoking as placidly as I could. 

At length he began: "There is not in all the Banda Orientál a worseperson to express things than myself. "

"You are speaking the truth, " I said. 

"But what is to be done?" he continued, staring straight before himand giving as little heed to my interruption as a hunter riding at astiff fence would pay to a remark about the weather. "When a man cannotget a knife, he breaks in two an old pair of sheep-shears, and withone of the blades makes himself an implement which has to serve himfor a knife. This is how it is with Doña Demetria; she has no one buther poor Santos to speak for her. If she had asked me to expose mylife in her service, that I could easily have done; but to speak forher to a man who can read the almanac and knows the names of all thestars in the sky, that kills me, señor. And who knows this better thanmy mistress, who has been intimate with me from her infancy, when Ioften carried her in my arms? I can only say this, señor; when I speak, remember my poverty and that my mistress has no instrument except mypoor tongue to convey her wishes. Words has she told me to say to you, but my devil of a memory has lost them all. What am I to do in thiscase? If I wished to buy my neighbour's horse, and went to him andsaid, 'Sell me your horse, neighbour, for I have fallen in love withit and my heart is sick with desire, so that I must have it at anyprice, ' would that not be madness, señor? Yet I must be like thatimprudent person. I come to you for something, and all her expressions, which were like rare flowers culled from a garden, have been lost bythe way. Therefore I can only say this thing which my mistress desires, putting it in my own brute words, which are like wild flowers I havemyself gathered on the plain, that have neither fragrance nor beautyto recommend them. "

This quaint exordium did not advance matters much, but it had theeffect of rousing my attention and convincing me that the messageentrusted to Santos was one of very grave import. He had finished hisfirst cigarette and now began slowly making himself a second one; butI waited patiently for him to speak, my irritation had quite vanished, those "wild flowers" of his were not without beauty, and his love anddevotion for his unhappy mistress made them smell very sweet. 

Presently he resumed: "Señor, you have told my mistress that you area poor man; that you look upon this country life as a free and happyone; that above all things you would like to possess an _estancia_where you could breed cattle and race-horses and hunt ostriches. Allthis she has revolved in her mind, and because it is in her power tooffer you the things you desire does she now ask you to aid her in hertrouble. And now, señor, let me tell you this. The Peralta propertyextends all the way to the Rocha waters; five leagues of land, andthere is none better in this department. It was formerly well stocked. There were thousands of cattle and mares; for my master's party thenruled in the country; the Colorados were shut up in Montevideo, andthat cut-throat Frutos Rivera never came into this part. Of the cattleonly a remnant remains, but the land is a fortune for any man, and, when my old master dies, Doña Demetria inherits all. Even now it ishers, since her father has lost his calabash, as you have seen. Nowlet me tell you what happened many years ago. Don Hilario was at firsta peon--a poor boy the Colonel befriended. When he grew up he was made_capatas, _ then _mayordomo. _ Don Calixto was killed and theColonel lost his reason, then Don Hilario made himself all-powerful, doing what he liked with his master, and setting Doña Demetria'sauthority aside. Did he protect the interests of the _estancia?_On the contrary, he was one with our enemies, and when they came likedogs for our cattle and horses he was behind them. This he did to makefriends of the reigning party, when the Blancos had lost everything. Now he wishes to marry Doña Demetria to make himself owner of the land. Don Calixto is dead, and who is there to bell the cat? Even now heacts like the only owner; he buys and sells and the money is his. Mymistress is scarcely allowed clothes to wear; she has no horse to rideon and is a prisoner in her own house. He watches her like a catwatching a bird shut in a room; if he suspected her of an intentionto make her escape he would murder her. He has sworn to her that unlessshe marries him he will kill her. Is not this sad? Señor, she asks youto deliver her from this man. Her words I have forgotten, but imaginethat you see her before you a suppliant on her knees, and that youknow what the thing is she asks, and see her lips move, though you donot hear her words. "

"Tell me how I can deliver her?" I said, feeling very much moved atwhat I had heard. 

"How! By carrying her off forcibly--do you understand? Is it not inyour power to return in a few days' time with two or three friends todo this thing? You must come disguised and armed. If I am in the wayI will do what I can to protect her, but you will easily knock me downand stun me--do you understand? Don Hilario must not know that we arein the plot. From him fear nothing, for, though he is brave enough tothreaten a woman with death, before armed men he is like a dog thathears thunder. You can then take her to Montevideo and conceal herthere. The rest will be easy. Don Hilario will fail to find her; Ramonaand I will take care of the Colonel, and when his daughter is out ofhis sight perhaps he will forget her. Then, señor, there will be notrouble about the property; for who can resist a legal claim?"

"I do not understand you, Santos, " said I. "If Demetria wishes me todo what you say, and there is no other way to save her from DonHilario's persecutions, I will do it. I will do anything to serve her, and I have no fear of that dog Hilario. But when I have placed her inconcealment, who in Montevideo, where she is without a friend, willtake up her cause and see that she is not defrauded of her rights? Ican give her liberty, but that will be all. "

"The property will be the same as yours when you marry her, " said he. 

I had never suspected that this was coming, and was amazed to hear it. 

"Will you tell me, Santos, " said I, "that Demetria sent you to saythis to me? Does she think that only by marrying her I can deliver herfrom this robber and save her property?"

"There is, of course, no other way, " said he. "If it could be done byother means, would she not have spoken last night and explainedeverything to you? Consider, señor, all this large property will beyours. If you do not like this department, then she will sell everythingfor you to buy an _estancia_ elsewhere, or to do whatever youwish. And I ask you this, señor, could any man marry a better woman?"

"No, " said I; "but, Santos, I cannot marry your mistress. "

I remembered then, sadly enough, that I had told her next to nothingabout myself. Seeing me so young, wandering homeless about the country, she had naturally taken me for a single man; and, perhaps thinkingthat I had conceived an affection for her, had been driven in herdespair to make this proposal. Poor Demetria, was there to be nodeliverance for her after all!

"Friend, " said Santos, dropping the ceremonious señor in his anxietyto serve his mistress, "never speak without first considering allthings. There is no woman like her. If you do not love her now youwill love her when you know her better; no good man could help feelingaffection for her. You saw her last evening in a green silk dress, also wearing a tortoise-shell comb and gold ornaments--was she notelegant, señor? Did she not then appear to your eyes a woman suitablefor a wife? You have been everywhere, and have seen many women, andperhaps in some distant place you have met one more beautiful than mymistress. But consider the life she has led! Grief has made her paleand thin, staining her face with purple under the eyes. Can laughterand song come out of a heart where fear is? Another life would changeall; she would be a flower amongst women. "

Poor old simple-minded Santos, he had done himself great injustice;his love for his mistress had inspired him with an eloquence that wentto my heart. And poor Demetria, driven by her weary, desolate life andtorturing fears to make in vain this unwomanly proposal to a stranger!And, after all, it was not unwomanly; for in all countries where theyare not abject slaves it is permissible for women in some circumstancesto propose marriage. Even in England it is so, where society is likea huge Clapham Junction, with human creatures moving like trucks andcarriages on cast-iron, conventional rails, which they can only leaveat the risk of a destructive collision. And a proposal of the kind wasnever more justifiable than in this case. Shut away from the sight ofmen in her dreary seclusion, haunted by nameless fears, her offer wasto bestow her hand along with a large property on a pennilessadventurer. Nor had she done this before she had learnt to love me, and to think, perhaps, that the feeling was returned. She had waited, too, till the very last moment, only making her offer when she haddespaired of its coming from me. This explained the reception of theprevious evening; the ancient, splendid attire which she had worn towin favour in my sight; the shy, wistful expression of her eyes, thehesitation she could not overcome. When I had recovered from the firstshock of surprise I could only feel the greatest respect and compassionfor her, bitterly regretting that I had not told her all my pasthistory, so that she might have been spared the shame and grief shewould now be compelled to endure. These sad thoughts passed throughmy mind while Santos expatiated on the advantages of the proposedalliance until I stopped him. 

"Say no more, " I said; "for I swear to you, Santos, that were itpossible I would gladly take Demetria for a wife, so greatly do Iadmire and esteem her. But I am married. Look at this; it is my wife'sportrait"; and, taking from my bosom the miniature which I always woreround my neck, I handed it to him. 

He stared at me in silent astonishment for a few moments, then tookthe portrait into his hand; and while he gazed admiringly at it Ipondered over what I had heard. I could not now think of leaving thispoor woman, who had offered herself with all her inheritance to me, without some attempt to rescue her from her sad position. She had givenme a refuge when I was in trouble and danger, and the appeal she hadjust made to me, accompanied by so convincing a proof of her trust andaffection, would have gone to the heart of the most cold-blooded manin existence, to make him, in spite of his nature, her devoted champion. 

At length Santos handed back the miniature, with a sigh. "Such a faceas that my eyes have never seen, " he remarked. "There is nothing moreto be said. "

"There is a great deal more to be said, " I returned. "I have thoughtof an easy plan to help your mistress. When you have reported thisconversation, tell her to remember the offer of assistance made to herlast night. I said I would be a brother to her, and I shall keep mypromise. You three cannot think of any better scheme to save Demetriathan this one you have told me, but it is after all a very poor scheme, full of difficulty and danger to her. My plan is a simpler and saferone. Tell her to come out to-night at midnight, after the moon hasset, to meet me under the trees behind the house. I shall be therewaiting with a horse for her, and will take her away to some safe placeof concealment where Don Hilario will never find her. When she is onceout of his power it will be time enough to think of some way to turnhim out of the _estancia_ and to arrange matters. See that shedoes not fail to meet me, and let her take a few clothes and somemoney, if she has any; also her jewels, for it would not be safe toleave them in the house with Don Hilario. "

Santos was delighted with my scheme, which was so much more practical, though less romantic, than the one hatched by those three simple-mindedconspirators. With heart full of hope, he was about to leave me whenhe suddenly exclaimed, "But, señor, how will you get a horse andside-saddle for Doña Demetria?"

"Leave it all to me, " I said; then we separated, he to return to hismistress, who was no doubt anxiously waiting to know the result of ourconversation, I to get through the next fifteen hours in the best wayI could. 

CHAPTER XXVI

After leaving Santos I rode on to a belt of wood about two miles eastof the road, and, passing through it, surveyed the country lying beyond. The only habitation near it was a shepherd's lonely _rancho_, standing on an open plain of yellow grass, over which a scattered flockof sheep and a few horses were grazing. I determined to remain in thewood till near noon, then proceed to the _rancho_ to get breakfast, and commence my search for a horse and side-saddle in the neighbourhood. After unsaddling my horse and tying him to a tree, where there weresome pickings of grass and herbage about the roots, I lit a cigar andmade myself comfortable on my rugs in the shade. Presently I had somevisitors in a flock of _urracas_, or magpies, as they are calledin the vernacular, or Guira cuckoos; a graceful, loquacious birdresembling a magpie, only with a longer tail and a bold, red beak. These ill-mannered birds skulked about in the branches over me all thetime I remained in the wood, scolding me so incessantly in theirintolerably loud, angry, rattling notes, varied occasionally withshrill whistlings and groans, that I could scarcely even hear myselfthink. They soon succeeded in bringing all the other birds withinhearing distance to the spot to take part in the demonstration. It wasunreasonable of the cuckoos, to say the least of it, for it was nowlong past their breeding season, so that parental solicitude could notbe pleaded as an excuse for their churlish behaviour. Theothers--tanagers, finches, tyrant-birds; red, white, blue, grey, yellow, and mixed--were, I must own, less troublesome, for, after hopping aboutfor a while, screaming, chirping, and twittering, they very sensiblyflew away, no doubt thinking their friends the cuckoos were making agreat deal too much fuss. My sole mammalian visitor was an armadillo, that came hurrying towards me, looking curiously like a little oldbent-backed gentleman in a rusty black coat trotting briskly about onsome very important business. It came to within three yards of my feet, then stopped, and seemed astonished beyond measure at my presence, staring at me with its little, bleary, blinking eyes, and looking morelike the shabby old gentleman than ever. Then it trotted away throughthe trees, but presently returned for a second inspection; and afterthat it kept coming and going, till I inadvertently burst out laughing, whereupon it scuttled away in great alarm, and returned no more. I wassorry I had frightened the amusing little beggar, for I felt in thatexceedingly light-hearted mood when one's merriment is ready to brimover at the slightest provocation. Yet that very morning poor Demetria'sappeal had deeply stirred my heart, and I was now embarked on a mostQuixotic and perhaps perilous adventure! Possibly the very fact ofthat adventure being before me had produced an exhilarating effect onmy mind, and made it impossible for me to be sad, or even decentlycomposed. 

After spending a couple of hours in the pleasant shade, the blue smokeascending from the _rancho_ before me gave notice of theapproaching breakfast hour; so, saddling my horse, I went to make mymorning call, the cuckoos hailing my departure with loud mocking shoutsand whistling calls, meant to inform all their feathered friends thatthey had at last succeeded in making their haunt too hot for me. 

At the _rancho_ I was received by a somewhat surly-looking youngman, with long, intensely black hair and moustache, and who wore inplace of a hat a purple cotton handkerchief tied about his head. Hedid not seem to be over-pleased at my visit, and invited me ratherungraciously to alight if I thought proper. I followed him into thekitchen, where his little brown-skinned wife was preparing breakfast, and I fancied, after seeing her, that her prettiness was the cause ofhis inhospitable manner towards a stranger. She was singularly pretty, with a seductive, soft brown skin, ripe, pouting lips of a richpurple-red, and when she laughed, which happened very frequently, herteeth glistened like pearls. Her crisp, black hair hung down unboundand disordered, for she looked like a very careless little beauty; butwhen she saw me enter, she blushed and tossed her tresses away fromher shoulders, then carefully felt the pendants dropping from her earsto assure herself that they were safe, or possibly to attract myattention to them. The frequent glances her laughing, dark eyes shotat me soon convinced me that she was one of those charming littlewives--charming, that is, when they are the wives of other people--whoare not satisfied with a husband's admiration. 

I had timed my arrival well, for the roast lamb over the coals wasjust assuming a deep golden brown colour, and sending out a mostdelicious fragrance. During the repast which followed I amused myauditors, and myself, by telling a few innocent lies, and began bysaying that I was on my return to Rocha from Montevideo. 

The shepherd remarked suspiciously that I was not on the right road. 

I answered that I knew it; then proceeded to say that I had met witha misfortune on the previous evening, which in the end had led me outof the right road. I had only been married a few days, I continued, and at this declaration my host looked relieved, while little gipsysuddenly seemed to lose all interest in me. 

"My wife, " I said, "set her heart on having a side-saddle, as she isvery fond of riding; so, having business which took me to town, I therepurchased one for her, and was returning with it on a led horse--mywife's horse, unfortunately--when I stopped last evening to get somerefreshment at a _pulperia_ on the road. While eating some breadand sausage a tipsy person, who happened to be there, imprudently beganto explode some fire-crackers, which so terrified the horses tied atthe gate that several of them broke loose and escaped. My wife's horsewith the side-saddle on him escaped with them; then, mounting my ownhorse, I started in pursuit, but failed to overtake the runaway. Finallyit joined a herd of mares, and these, becoming terrified, fled fromme, leading me a chase of several leagues, till I lost sight of themin the darkness. "

"If your wife resembles mine in disposition, friend, " said he, witha somewhat sorrowful smile, "you would have continued following thatrunaway animal with the side-saddle to the end of the world. "

"I can say this, " I returned gravely, "without a side-saddle, good orbad, I am not going to present myself before her. I intend inquiringat every house on my way to the Lomas de Rocha till I can hear of onefor sale. "

"What will you give for one?" said he, becoming interested. 

"That will depend on its condition. If it is as good as new I willgive the amount it cost and two dollars profit besides. "

"I know of a side-saddle that cost ten dollars a year ago, but it hasnever been used. It belongs to a neighbour three leagues from here, and she would sell it, I believe. "

"Show me the house, " I said, "and I will go directly and offer twelvedollars for it. "

"You speak of Doña Petrona's side-saddle, Antonio?" said the littlewife. "She would sell it for what it cost--perhaps for eight dollars. Ah, pumpkin-head, why did you not think to make all that profit? ThenI could have bought slippers and a thousand things. "

"You are never satisfied, Cleta, " he returned. "Have you not gotslippers to your feet?"

She tossed up a pretty foot and displayed it cased in rather a shabbylittle slipper. Then, with a laugh, she kicked it off towards him. "There, " she exclaimed, "put it in your bosom and keep it--somethingprecious! And some day when you go to Montevideo, and wish to appearvery grand before all the town, wear it on your great toe. "

"Who expects reason from a woman?" said Antonio, shrugging hisshoulders. 

"Reason! you have no more brains than a Muscovy duck, Antonio. Youmight have made this profit, but you never can make money like othermen, and therefore you will always be poorer than the spiders. I havesaid this before very often, and only hope you will not forget it, forin future I intend to speak of other things. "

"Where would I have got the ten dollars to pay Petrona for the saddle?"he retorted, losing his temper. 

"My friend, " I said, "if the saddle can be had, it is only just thatyou should have the profit. Take ten dollars, and if you buy it forme I will pay you two more. "

This proposal pleased him greatly, while Cleta, the volatile, clappedher hands with delight. While Antonio prepared to go to his neighbour'safter the saddle I went out to a solitary thorn-tree about fifty yardsfrom the _rancho_, and, spreading my _poncho_ in the shade, lay down to sleep the siesta. 

Before the shepherd had been long gone I heard a great noise in thehouse, like banging on doors and on copper vessels, but took no notice, supposing it to proceed from Cleta engaged in some unusually noisydomestic operation. At length I heard a voice calling to me, "Señor!Señor!"

Getting up, I went to the kitchen, but no person was there. Suddenlya loud knock was given on the door communicating with the second room. "Oh, my friend, " cried Cleta's voice behind it, "my ruffian of a husbandhas locked me in--can you let me out, do you think?"

"Why has he locked you in?" I asked. 

"The question! Because he is a brute, of course. He always does itwhen he goes out. Is it not horrible?"

"It only shows how fond he is of you, " I returned. 

"Are you so atrocious as to defend him? And I thought you had aheart--so handsome, too! When I saw you I said, Ah, had I married thisman, what a happy life!"

"Thank you for your good opinion, " I said. "I am very sorry you arelocked in, because it prevents me from seeing your pretty face. "

"Oh, you think it pretty? Then you _must_ let me out. I have putup my hair now, and look prettier than when you saw me. "

"You look prettier with it down, " I answered. 

"Ah, down it goes again then!" she exclaimed. --"Yes, you are right, it does look best that way. Is it not like silk? You shall feel itwhen you liberate me. "

"That I cannot do, Cleta mine. Your Antonio has taken away the key. "

"Oh, cruel man! He left me no water, and I am perishing with thirst. What shall I do? Look, I will put my hand under the door for you tofeel how hot it is; I am consumed with fever and thirst in this oven. "

Presently her little brown hand came out at my feet, there beingsufficient space between the floor and wood to pass it through. Istooped and took it in mine, and found it a hot, moist little hand, with a pulse beating very fast. 

"Poor child!" I said, "I will pour some water in a plate and pass itto you under the door. "

"Oh, you are bad to insult me!" she cried. "What, am I a cat to drinkwater from a plate? I could cry my eyes out"; here followed sob-likesounds. "Besides, " she suddenly resumed, "it is fresh air, not water, I require. I am suffocated, I cannot breathe. Oh, dear friend, saveme from fainting. Force back the door till the bolt slips out. "

"No, no, Cleta, it cannot be done. "

"What, with your strength! I could almost do it myself with my poorlittle hands. Open, open, open, before I faint. "

She had evidently sunk down on the floor sobbing, after making thatpractical suggestion; and, casting about for burglarious implementsto aid me, I found the spit and a wedge-shaped piece of hard wood. These I inserted just above and below the lock, and, forcing back thedoor on its frame, I soon had the satisfaction of seeing the bolt slipfrom the catch. 

Out sprang Cleta, flushed, tearful, her hair all in disorder, butlaughing gleefully at having regained her liberty. 

"Oh, dear friend, I thought you were going to leave me!" she cried. "How agitated I am--feel how my heart beats. Never mind, I can now paythat wretch out. Is not revenge sweet, sweet, sweet?"

"Now, Cleta, " I said, "take three mouthfuls of fresh air and a drinkof water, then let me lock you in again. "

She laughed mockingly, and shook her hair like a wild young colt. 

"Ah, you are not serious--do you not think I know?" she cried. "Youreyes tell me everything. Besides, you could not shut me up again ifyou tried. " Here she made a sudden dash at the door, but I caught herand held her a close prisoner. 

"Let me go, monster--oh, no, not monster, dear, sweet friend, beautifulas the--moon, sun, stars. I am dying for fresh air. I will come backto the oven before he returns. If he caught me out, what blows! Come, let us sit under the tree together. "

"That would be disobeying your husband, " I said, trying to look stern. 

"Never mind, I will confess it all to the priest some day, then itwill be as if it had never happened. Such a husband--poof! If you werenot a married man--_are_ you married? What a pity! Say again, amI pretty?"

"Say first, Cleta, have you a horse a woman can ride on, and if youhave one, will you sell it to me?"

"Oh, yes, the best horse in the Banda Orientál. They say it is worthsix dollars--will you buy it for six dollars? No, I shall not sellit--I shall not tell you that I have a horse till you answer me. AmI pretty, sir stranger?"

"Tell me first about the horse, then ask me what you like. "

"Nothing more will I tell you--not a word. Yes, everything. Listen. When Antonio comes back, ask him to sell you a horse for your wife toride. He will try to sell you one of his own, a demon full of faultslike his master; false-footed, lame in the shoulder, a roarer, old asthe south wind. A black piebald--remember. Offer to buy a roan witha cream nose. That is my horse. Offer him six dollars. Now say, am Ipretty?"

"Oh, beautiful, Cleta; your eyes are stars, your mouth is a rosebud, sweeter than honey a thousand times. "

"Now you talk like a wise man, " she laughed; then, holding my hand, she led me to the tree and sat down by my side on the _poncho_. 

"And how old are you, little one?" I asked. 

"Fourteen--is that very old? Ah, fool, to tell my age truly--no womandoes that. Why did I not say thirteen? And I have been married sixmonths, such a long time! I am sure I have green, blue, yellow, greyhairs coming out all over my head by this time. And what about my hair, sir, you never spoke of that? Did I not let it down for you? Is it notsoft and beautiful? Tell me, sir, what about my hair?"

"In truth it is soft and beautiful, Cleta, and covers you like a darkcloud. "

"Does it not! Look, I will cover my face with it. Now I am hidden likethe moon in a cloud, and now, look, out comes the moon again! I havea great respect for the moon. Say, holy friar, am I like the moon?"

"Say, little sweet lips, why do you call me holy friar?"

"Say first, holy friar, am I like the moon?"

"No, Cleta, you are not like the moon, though you are both marriedwomen; you are married to Antonio--"

"Poor me!"

"And the moon is married to the sun. "

"Happy moon, to be so far from him!"

"The moon is a quiet wife, but you chatter like a paroquet. "

"And am I not able to be quiet also, monk? Look, I will be quiet asthe moon--not a word, not a breath. " Then she threw herself back onthe poncho, feigning sleep, her arms above her head, her hair scatteredeverywhere, only a tress or two half shading her flushed face andround, heaving bosom that would not be quiet. There was just a littlemocking smile on her lips, just a little gleam of laughing eyes underher drooping lashes, for she could not help watching my face foradmiration. In such an attitude the tempting little witch might havemade the tepid blood of an ascetic boil. 

Two or three hours thus flew swiftly by while I listened to her livelyprattle, which, like the lark's singing, had scarcely a pause in it, her attempt at being still and moonlight having ended in a perfectfiasco. At length, pouting her pretty lips and complaining of her hardlot, she said it was time to go back to her prison; but all the timeI was engaged in forcing back the bolt into its place she chatteredwithout ceasing. "Adieu, Sun, husband of the moon, " she said. "Adieu, sweet, sweet friend, buyer of side-saddles! They were all lies youtold--I know, I know. You want a horse and sidesaddle to carry offsome girl to-night. Happy she! Now I must sit in the dark alone, alone, alone, till Antonio, the atrocious, comes to liberate me with his ironkey--ah, fool!"

Before I had been long back under my tree, Antonio appeared, bringingthe side-saddle in triumph on his horse before him. After going in torelease his wife he came out and invited me to take _maté_. Ithen mentioned my wish to buy a good horse; he was only too willingto sell, and in a few minutes his horses were driven up for inspection. The black piebald was first offered, a very handsome, quiet-lookinganimal, apparently quite sound. The cream-nose, I noticed, was a bony, long-bodied brute, with sleepy eyes and a ewe neck. Could it be thatthe little double-dealing witch had intended to deceive me? But in amoment I dismissed such a suspicion with the scorn it merited. Let awoman be as false as she can, and able to fool her husband to the topof her bent, she is, compared with the man who wishes to sell you ahorse, openness and truth itself. I examined the piebald critically, walking and trotting him round; looked into his mouth, then at hoofsand fetlocks, beloved of windgalls; gazed with fixed attention intohis eyes and dealt him a sudden brisk blow on the shoulder. 

"No weak spot will you find, señor, " said Antonio the mendacious, whowas certainly the greatest of the three sinners met together in thatplace. "He is my best horse, only four years old, gentle as a lamb, sound as a bell. Sure-footed, señor, like no other horse; and withsuch an easy pace you can ride him at a gallop with a tumbler of waterin your hand and not spill a drop. I will give him away to you for tendollars, because you have been generous about the side-saddle, and Iam anxious to serve you well. "

"Thank you, my friend, " I said. "Your piebald is fifteen years old, lame in the shoulders, broken in his wind, and has more vices than anyseven horses in the Banda Orientál. I would not allow my wife to ridesuch a dangerous brute, for, as I told you, I have not been longmarried. "

Antonio framed his face to express astonishment and virtue indignant;then with the point of his knife he scratched the figure of a crosson the ground, and was about to swear solemnly on it that I wasegregiously mistaken, that his beast was a kind of equine angel, oraPegasus, at least, when I interfered to stop him. "Tell as many liesas you like, " I said, "and I will listen to them with the greatestinterest; but do not swear on the figure of the cross to what is false, for then the four or five or six dollars profit you have made on theside-saddle will scarcely be sufficient to buy you absolution for sucha sin. "

He shrugged his shoulders and restored the sacrilegious knife to itssheath. "There are my horses, " he said in an injured tone. "They area kind of animal you seem to know a great deal about; select one anddeceive yourself. I have endeavoured to serve you; but there are somepeople who do not know a friend when they see one. "

I then minutely examined all the other horses, and finally finishedthe farce by leading out the roan cream-nose, and was pleased to noticethe crestfallen expression of my good shepherd. 

"Your horses do not suit me, " I said, "so I cannot buy one. I will, however, purchase this old cow; for it is the only animal here I couldtrust my wife on. You can have seven dollars for it--not one coppermore, for, like the Emperor of China, I speak once only. "

He plucked off his purple headgear and scratched his raven head, thenled me back to the kitchen to consult his wife, "For, señor, " he said, "you have, by some fatality, selected her horse. " When Cleta heardthat seven dollars had been offered for the roan, she laughed withjoy. "Oh, Antonio, he is only worth six dollars! Yes, señor, you shallhave him, and pay the seven dollars to me. Not to my husband. Who willsay now that I cannot make money? And now, Antonio, I have no horseto ride on, you can give me the bay with white forefeet. "

"Do not imagine such a thing!" exclaimed her husband. 

After taking _maté_ I left them to settle their affairs, notdoubting which would come out best from a trial of skill. When I arrivedin sight of Peralta's trees I unsaddled and picketed my horses, thenstretched myself out on my rugs. After the excitements and pleasuresof that day, which had robbed me of my siesta, I quickly fell into avery sound sleep. 

CHAPTER XXVII

When I woke I did not remember for some moments where I was. Feelingabout me, my hand came in contact with the grass wet with dew. It wasvery dark, only low down in the sky a pale gleam of light gave promise, as I imagined, of coming day. Then recollection flashed upon me, andI sprang up alarmed to my feet, only to discover with inexpressiblerelief that the light I had remarked was in the west, not the east, and proceeded from the young moon just sinking beneath the horizon. Saddling my two animals expeditiously, I rode to Peralta's _estancia, and on arriving there carefully drew the horses into the shadow of aclump of trees growing on the borders of the ancient, wellnighobliterated foss or ditch. I then dropped on to the ground so as tolisten better for approaching footsteps, and began waiting for Demetria. It was past midnight: not a sound reached me except at intervals themournful, far-away, reedy note of the little nocturnal cicada thatalways seemed to be there lamenting the lost fortunes of the house ofPeralta. For upwards of half an hour I remained lying on the ground, growing more anxious every moment and fearing that Demetria was goingto fail me, when I caught a sound like a human whisper. Listeningintently, I found that it pronounced my name and proceeded from a clumpof tall thorn-apples some yards from me. 

"Who speaks?" I replied. 

The tall, gaunt form of Ramona drew itself up out of the weeds andcautiously approached me. She was shaking with nervous excitement, andhad not ventured to come near without speaking for fear of beingmistaken for an enemy and fired at. 

"Mother of Heaven!" she exclaimed, as well as her chattering teethwould allow her to speak. "I have been so agitated all the evening!Oh, señor, what are we to do now? Your plan was such a good one; whenI heard it I knew an angel had flown down and whispered it in yourear. And now my mistress will not stir! All her things areready--clothes, money, jewels; and for the last hour we have beenurging her to come out, but nothing will serve. She will not see you, señor. "

"Is Don Hilario in the house?"

"No, he is out--could anything have been better? But it is useless, she has lost heart and will not come. She only sits crying in her room, saying that she cannot look on your face again. "

"Go and tell her that I am here with the horses waiting for her, " Isaid. 

"Señor, she knows you are here. Santos watched for you and hastenedin to inform her of your arrival. Now she has sent me out only to saythat she cannot meet you, that she thanks you for all you have done, and begs you to go away and leave her. "

I was not greatly surprised at Demetria's reluctance to meet me at thelast moment, but was determined not to leave without first seeing herand trying to change her mind. Securing the horses to a tree, I wentwith Ramona to the house. Stealing in on tiptoe, we found Demetria inthat room where she had received me the evening before in her quaintfinery, lying on the sofa, while old Santos stood by her the pictureof distress. The moment she saw me enter she covered her face with herhands and turned from me. Yet a glance was sufficient to show thatwith or without her consent everything had been got ready for herflight. On a chair near her lay a pair of saddle-bags in which her fewbelongings had been stowed; a mantilla was drawn half over her head, and by her side was a large woollen shawl, evidently intended to protecther against the night air. 

"Santos, " I said, "go out to the horses under the trees and wait therefor us; and you, Ramona, say good-bye now to your mistress, then leaveus together; for by and by she will recover courage and go with me. "

Santos, looking immensely relieved and grateful, though a littlesurprised at my confident tone, was hurrying out when I pointed to thesaddle-bags. He nodded, grinned, and, snatching them up, left the room. Poor old Ramona threw herself on to her knees, sobbing and pouring outfarewell blessings on her mistress, kissing her hands and hair withsorrowful devotion. 

When she left us I sat down by Demetria's side, but she would not takeherhands from her face or speak to me, and only wept hystericallywhen I addressed her. I succeeded at last in getting one of her handsin mine, and then drew her head gently down till it rested on myshoulder. When her sobs began to subside I said:

"Tell me, dear Demetria, have you lost faith in me that you fear totrust yourself with me now?"

"No, no, Richard, it is not that, " she faltered. "But I can never lookinto your face again. If you have any compassion for me you will leaveme now. "

"What, leave you, Demetria, my sister, to that man--how can you imaginesuch a thing? Tell me, where is Don Hilario--is he coming backto-night?"

"I know nothing. He may come back at any moment. Leave me, Richard;every minute you remain here increases your danger. " Then she attemptedto draw away from me, but I would not release her. 

"If you fear his returning to-night, then it is time for you to comewith me, " I answered. 

"No, no, no, I cannot. All is changed now. It would kill me with shameto look on your face again. "

"You shall look on it again many times, Demetria. Do you think thatafter coming here to rescue you out of the coils of that serpent I amgoing to leave you because you are a little timid? Listen, Demetria, I shall save you from that devil to-night, even if I have to carry youout in my arms. Afterwards we can consider all there is to be doneabout your father and your property. Perhaps when the poor Colonel istaken out of this sad atmosphere, his health, his reason even, mayimprove. "

"Oh, Richard, are you deceiving me?" she exclaimed, suddenly droppingher hands and gazing full into my face. 

"No, I am not deceiving you. And now you will lose all fear, Demetria, for you have looked into my face again and have not been changed tostone. "

She turned crimson in a moment; but did not attempt to cover her faceagain, for just then a clatter of hoofs was heard approaching thehouse. 

"Mother of Heaven, save us!" she exclaimed in terror. "It is DonHilario. "

I quickly blew out the one candle burning dimly in the room. "Fearnothing, " I said. "When all is quiet, after he has gone to his room, we will make our escape. "

She was trembling with apprehension and nestled close to me; while weboth listened intently and heard Don Hilario unsaddle his horse, thengoing softly, whistling to himself, to his room. 

"Now he has shut himself up, " I said, "and in a few minutes will beasleep. When you think of that man whose persecutions have made yourlife a burden, so that you tremble when he approaches you, do you notfeel glad that I have come to take you away?"

"Richard, I could go willingly with you to-night but for one thing. Do you think after what has passed that I could ever face your wife?"

"She will know nothing of what has passed, Demetria. It would bedishonourable in me and a cruel injustice to you to speak to her ofit. She will welcome you as a dear sister and love you as much as Ilove you. All these doubts and fears troubling you are veryunsubstantial and can be blown away like thistle-down. And now thatyou have confessed so much to me, Demetria, I wish to confess also theone thing that troubles my heart. "

"What is it, Richard, tell me?" she said very gently. 

"Believe me, Demetria, I never had a suspicion that you loved me. Yourmanner did not show it, otherwise I should have told you long ago allabout my past. I only knew you regarded me as a friend and one youcould trust. If I have been mistaken all along, Demetria, if you havereally felt a passion in your heart, then I shall have to lamentbitterly that I have been the cause of a lasting sorrow to you. Willyou not open your heart more to me and tell me frankly how it is withyou?"

She caressed my hand in silence for a little while, and then answered, "I think you were right, Richard. Perhaps I am not capable of passionlike some women. I felt--I knew that you were my friend. To be nearyou was like sitting in the shade of a green tree in some hot, desolateplace. I thought it would be pleasant to sit there always and forgetthe bitter years. But, Richard, if you will always be my friend--mybrother, I shall be more than content, and my life will seem different. "

"Demetria, how happy you have made me! Come, the serpent is sleepingnow, let us steal away and leave him to his evil dreams. God grantthat I may return some day to bruise his head with my heel. "

Then, wrapping the shawl about her, I led her out, treading softly, and in a few moments we were with Santos, patiently keeping watchbeside the horses. 

I gladly let him assist Demetria to her seat on the side-saddle, forthat was perhaps the last personal service he would be able to renderher. The poor old fellow was crying, I believe, his utterance was sohusky. Before leaving I gave him on a scrap of paper my address inMontevideo, and bade him take it to Don Florentino Blanco with a requestto write me a letter in the course of the next two or three days toinform me of Don Hilario's movements. We then trotted softly away overthe sward, and in about half an hour struck the road leading from Rochato Montevideo. This we followed till daylight, scarcely pausing oncefrom our swift gallop, and a hundred times during that dark ride overa country utterly unknown to me I blessed the little witch Cleta; fornever was there a more steady, sure-footed beast than the ugly roanthat carried my companion, and when we drew rein in the pale morninglight he seemed fresh as when we started. We then left the highway androde across country in a north-westerly direction for a distance ofeight or nine miles, for I was anxious to be far away from public roadsand from the prying, prating people that use them. About eleven o'clockthat morning we had breakfast at a _rancho, _ then rode on againtill we came to a forest of scattered thorn-trees growing on the slopesof a range of hills. It was a wild, secluded spot, with water and goodpasturage for the horses and pleasant shade for ourselves; so, afterunsaddling and turning loose our horses to feed, we sat down to restunder a large tree with our backs against its portly trunk. From ourshady retreat we commanded a splendid view of the country over whichwe had been riding all the morning, extending for many leagues behindus, and while I smoked my cigar I talked to my companion, calling herattention to the beauty of that wide, sunlit prospect. 

"Do you know, Demetria, " I said, "when the long winter evenings come, and I have plenty of leisure, I intend writing a history of mywanderings in the Banda Oriental, and I will call my book _The PurpleLand;_ for what more suitable name can one find for a country sostained with the blood of her children? You will never read it, ofcourse, for I shall write it in English, and only for the pleasure itwill give to my own children--if I ever have any--at some distant date, when their little moral and intellectual stomachs are prepared forother food than milk. But you will have a very important place in mynarrative, Demetria, for during these last days we have been very muchto each other. And perhaps the very last chapter will recount thiswild ride of ours together, flying from that evil genius Hilario tosome blessed refuge far away beyond the hills and woods and the blueline of the horizon. For when we reach the capital I believe--I think--Iknow, in fact--"

I hesitated to tell her that it would probably be necessary for me toleave the country immediately, but she did not encourage me to go on, and, glancing round, I discovered that she was fast asleep. 

Poor Demetria, she had been dreadfully nervous all night and almostafraid to stop to rest anywhere, but now her fatigue had quite overcomeher. Her position against the tree was uncomfortable and insecure, so, drawing her head very gently down until it rested on my shoulder, andshading her eyes with her mantilla, I let her sleep on. Her face lookedstrangely worn and pallid in that keen noonday light, and, gazing onit while she slumbered, and remembering all the dark years of griefand anxiety she had endured down to that last pain of which I had beenthe innocent cause, I felt my eyes grow dim with compassion. 

After sleeping for about two hours she woke with a start, and wasgreatly distressed to learn that I had been supporting her all thattime. But after that refreshing slumber a change seemed to come overher. Not only her great fatigue, but the tormenting apprehensions hadvery nearly vanished. Out of the nettle Danger she had plucked theflower Safety, and now she could rejoice in its possession and wasfilled with new life and spirits. The unaccustomed freedom and exercise, with constant change of scene, also had an exhilarating effect on mindand body. A new colour came into her pale cheeks; the purple stainstelling of anxious days and sleepless nights faded away; she smiledbrightly and was full of animation, so that on that long journey, whether resting in the noonday shade or swiftly cantering over thegreen turf, I could not have had a more agreeable companion thanDemetria. This change in her often made me remember Santos' patheticwords when he told of the ravages of grief, and said that another lifewould make his mistress a "flower amongst women. " It was a comfortthat her affection for me had been, indeed, nothing but affection. Butwhat was I to do with her in the end? for I knew that my wife was mostanxious to return without further delay to her own country; and yetit seemed to me that it would be a hard thing to leave poor Demetriabehind amongst strangers. Finding her so improved in spirits, I atlength ventured to speak to her on the subject. At first she wasdepressed, but presently, recovering courage, she begged to be allowedto go with us to Buenos Ayres. The prospect of being left alone wasunendurable to her, for in Montevideo she had no personal friends, while the political friends of her family were all out of the country, or living in very close retirement. Across the water she would be withfriends and safe for a season from her dreaded enemy. This proposalseemed a very sensible one, and relieved my mind very much, althoughit only served to remove my difficulty for a time. 

In the department of Camelones, about six leagues from Montevideo, Ifound the house of a fellow-countryman named Barker, who had lived formany years in the country and had a wife and children. We arrived inthe afternoon at his estancia, and, seeing that Demetria was very muchknocked up with our long journey, I asked Mr. Barker to give us shelterfor the night. Our host was very kind and pleasant with us, asking nodisagreeable questions, and after a few hours' acquaintance, whichmade us quite intimate, I took him aside and told him Demetria'shistory, whereupon, like the good-hearted fellow he was, he at onceoffered to shelter her in his house until matters could be arrangedin Montevideo, an offer which was joyfully accepted. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

I was soon back in Montevideo after that. When I bade Demetria good-byeshe appeared reluctant to part with me, retaining my hand in hers foran unusual time. For the first time in her life, probably, she wasabout to be left in the company of entire strangers, and for many dayspast we had been much to each other, so that it was only natural sheshould cling to me a little at parting. Once more I pressed her handand exhorted her to be of good courage, reminding her that in a veryfew days all trouble and danger would be over; still, however, she didnot release my hand. This tender reluctance to lose me was affectingand also flattering, but slightly inopportune, for I was anxious tobe in the saddle and away. Presently she said, glancing down at herrusty habiliments, "Richard, if I am to remain concealed here till Igo to join you on board, then I must meet your wife in these poorgarments. "

"Oh, _that_ is what you are thinking about, Demetria!" I exclaimed. 

At once I called in our kind hostess, and when this serious matter wasexplained to her she immediately offered to go to Montevideo to procurethe necessary outfit, a thing I had thought nothing about, but whichhad evidently been preying on Demetria's mind. 

When I at length reached the little suburban retreat of my aunt (bymarriage), Paquíta and I acted for some time like two demented persons, so overjoyed were we at meeting after our long separation. I hadreceived no letters from her, and only two or three of the score I hadwritten had reached their destination, so that we had ten thousandquestions to ask and answers to make. She could never gaze enough atme or finish admiring my bronzed skin and the respectable moustacheI had grown; while she, poor darling! looked unusually pale, yet withalso beautiful that I marvelled at myself for having, after possessingher, considered any other woman even passably good-looking. I gave hera circumstantial account of my adventures, omitting only a few mattersI was in honour bound not to disclose. 

Thus, when I told her the story of my sojourn at the _estancia_Peralta, I said nothing to betray Demetria's confidence; nor did Ithink it necessary to mention the episode of that wicked little sprite, Cleta; with the result that she was pleased at the chivalrous conductI had displayed throughout the whole of that affair, and was ready totake Demetria to her heart. 

I had not been back twenty-four hours in Montevideo before a letterfrom the Lomas de Rocha storekeeper came to justify my caution inhaving left Demetria at some distance from the town. The letter informedme that Don Hilario had quickly guessed that I had carried off hisunhappy master's daughter, and that no doubt was left in his mind whenhe discovered that, on the day I left the _estancia_, a personanswering to my description in every particular had purchased a horseand side-saddle and had ridden off towards the _estancia_ in theevening. My correspondent warned me that Don Hilario would be inMontevideo even before his letter, also that he had discovered somethingabout my connection with the late rebellion, and would be sure to placethe matter in the hands of the government, so as to have me arrested, after which he would have little difficulty in compelling Demetria toreturn to the _estancia_. 

For a moment this intelligence dismayed me. Luckily, Paquíta was outof the house when it came, and fearing that she might return andsurprise me while I was in that troubled state, I rushed out; then, skulking through back streets and narrow lanes, peering cautiouslyabout in fear of encountering the minions of the law, I made my escapeout of the town. My only desire just then was to get away into someplace of safety where I would be able to think over the positionquietly, and if possible devise some plan to defeat Don Hilario, whohad been a little too quick for me. Of many schemes that suggestedthemselves to my mind, while I sat in the shade of a cactus hedge abouta mile from town, I finally determined, in accordance with my old andwell-tried rule, to adopt the boldest one, which was to go straightback to Montevideo and claim the protection of my country. The onlytrouble was that on my way thither I might be caught, and then Paquítawould be in terrible distress about me, and perhaps Demetria's escapewould be prevented. While I was occupied with these thoughts I saw aclosed carriage pass by, driven towards the town by a tipsy-lookingcoachman. Coming out of my hiding-place, I managed to stop him andoffered him two dollars to drive me to the British Consulate. Thecarriage was a private one, but the two dollars tempted the man, soafter securing the fare in advance, he allowed me to get in, and thenI closed the windows, leant back on the cushion, and was driven rapidlyand comfortably to the house of refuge. I introduced myself to theConsul, and told him a story concocted for the occasion, a judiciousmixture of truth and lies, to the effect that I had been unlawfullyand forcibly seized and compelled to serve in the Blanco army, andthat, having escaped from the rebels and made my way to Montevideo, I was amazed to hear that the government proposed arresting me. Heasked me a few questions, looked at the passport which he had sent mea few days before, then, laughing good-humouredly, put on his hat andinvited me to accompany him to the War Office close by. The secretary, Colonel Arocena, he informed me, was a personal friend of his, and ifwe could see him it would be all right. Walking by his side I feltquite safe and bold again, for I was, in a sense, walking with my handresting on the superb mane of the British Lion, whose roar was not tobe provoked with impunity. At the War Office I was introduced by theConsul to his friend, Colonel Arocena, a genial old gentleman with abald head and a cigarette between his lips. He listened with someinterest and a smile, slightly incredulous I thought, to the sad storyof the ill-treatment I had been subjected to at the hands of SantaColoma's rebellious rascals. When I had finished he pushed over a sheetof paper on which he had scrawled a few words to me, with the remark, "Here, my young friend, take this, and you will be safe in Montevideo. We have heard about your doings in Florida, also in Rocha, but we donot propose going to war with England on your account. "

At this speech we all laughed; then when I had pocketed the paper, which bore the sacred seal of the War Office on the margin and requestedall persons to refrain from molesting the bearer in his lawful outgoingsand incomings, we thanked the pleasant old Colonel and retired. I spenthalf an hour strolling about with the Consul, then we separated. I hadnoticed two men in military uniform at some distance from us when wewere together, and now, returning homewards, I found that they werefollowing me. By and by they overtook me, and politely intimated theirintention of making me their prisoner. I smiled, and, drawing forthmy protection from the War Office, handed it to them. They lookedsurprised, and gave it back, with an apology for having molested me, then left me to pursue my way in peace. 

I had, of course, been very lucky throughout all this adventure; still, I did not wish to attribute my easy escape entirely to luck, for Ihad, I thought, contributed a good deal towards it by my promptnessin acting and in inventing a plausible story on the spur of the moment. 

Feeling very much elated, I strolled along the sunny streets, gailyswinging my cane, when, turning a corner near Doña Isidora's house, I suddenly came face to face with Don Hilario. This unexpected encounterthrew us both off our guard, he recoiling two or three paces backwardandturning as pale as the nature of his complexion would allow. Irecovered first from the shock. So far I had been able to baffle him, and knew, moreover, many things of which he was ignorant; still, hewas there in the town with me and had to be reckoned with, and I quicklyresolved to meet him as a friend, affecting entire ignorance of hisobject in coming to Montevideo. 

"Don Hilario--you here! Happy the eyes that behold you, " I exclaimed, seizing and shaking his hand, pretending to be overjoyed at the meeting. 

In a moment he recovered his usual self-possessed manner, and when Iasked after Doña Demetria he answered after a moments hesitation thatshe was in very good health. 

"Come, Don Hilario, " I said, "we are close to my aunt Isidora's house, where I am staying, and it will give me great pleasure to present youto my wife, who will be glad to thank you for your kindness to me atthe _estancia_. "

"Your wife, Don Ricardo! Do you tell me that you are married?" heexclaimed in amazement, thinking probably that I was already the husbandof Demetria. 

"What, did I not tell you before!" I said. "Ah, I remember speakingto Doña Demetria about it. Strange that she has not mentioned it toyou. Yes, I was married before coming to this country--my wife is anArgentine. Come with me and you shall see a beautiful woman, if thatis an inducement. "

He was without doubt astonished and mystified, but he had recoveredhis mask, and was now polite, collected, watchful. 

When we entered the house I presented him to Doña Isidora, who happenedto be in the way, and left her to entertain him. I was very glad todo so, knowing that he would seize the opportunity to try and discoversomething from the garrulous old lady, and that he would discovernothing, since she had not been let into our secrets. 

I found Paquíta lying down in her room having a siesta; and while shearrayed herself at my express desire in her best dress--a black velvetwhich set off her matchless beauty better than anything else, I toldher how I wished her to treat Don Hilario. She knew all about him, ofcourse, and hated him with all her heart, looking on him as a kind ofevil genius from whose castle I had carried off the unhappy Demetria;but I made her understand that our wisest plan was to treat himgraciously. She readily consented, for Argentine women can be morecharmingly gracious than any other women on the globe, and what peopledo well they like to be called on to do. 

The subtle caution of our snaky guest did not serve to hide from mywatchful eyes that he was very much surprised when he beheld her. Sheplaced herself near him and spoke in her sweetest, artless manner ofthe pleasure my return had given her, and of the gratitude she hadfelt towards him and all the people at the _estancia_ Peralta forthe hospitable treatment I had received there. He was, as I hadforeseen, completely carried away by her exquisite beauty and the charmof her manner towards him. He was flattered, and exerted himself tobe agreeable, but at the same time he was very much puzzled. The baffledexpression was more apparent on his face every moment, while hisrestless glances darted here and there about the room, yet everreturned, like the doomed moth to the candle, to those lustrous violeteyes overflowing with hypocritical kindness. Paquíta's acting delightedme, and I only hoped that he would long suffer from the effect of thesubtle poison she was introducing into his system. When he rose to goI was sure that Demetria's disappearance was a greater mystery to himthan ever; and as a parting shot I warmly invited him to come and seeus frequently while he remained in the capital, even offering him abed in the house; while Paquíta, not to be behindhand, for she hadthoroughly entered into the fun of the thing, entrusted him with aprettily worded, affectionate message to Demetria, a person whom shealready loved and hoped some day to meet. 

Two days after this adventure I heard that Don Hilario had leftMontevideo. That he had discovered nothing I was positive; it waspossible, however, that he had left some person to watch the house, and, as Paquíta was now anxious to get back to her own country, Idetermined to delay our departure no longer. 

Going down to the harbour, I found the captain of a small schoonertrading between Montevideo and Buenos Ayres, and, learning that heintended leaving for the last port in three days' time, I bargainedwith him to take us, and got him also to consent to receive Demetriaon board at once. I then sent a message to Mr. Barker, asking him tobring his guest up to town and put her on board the schooner withoutcoming near me. Two days later, early in the morning, I heard that shewas safe on board; and, having thus baffled the scoundrel Hilario, onwhose ophidian skull I should have been very pleased to set my heel, and having still an idle day before me, I went once more to visit themountain, to take from its summit my last view of the Purple Land whereI had spent so many eventful days. 

When I approached the crest of the great, solitary hill I did not gazeadmiringly on the magnificent view that opened before me, nor did thewind, blowing fresh from the beloved Atlantic, seem to exhilarate me. My eyes were cast down and I dragged my feet like one that was weary. Yet I was not weary, but now I began to remember that on a formeroccasion I had on this mountain spoken many vain and foolish thingsconcerning a people about whose character and history I was thenignorant. I also remembered with exceeding bitterness that my visitto this land had been the cause of great and perhaps lasting sorrowto one noble heart. 

How often, said I to myself, have I repented of those cruel, scornfulwords I addressed to Dolores at our last interview; and now once more"I come to pluck the berries harsh and crude" of repentance and ofexpiation, to humble my insular pride in the dust and unsay all theunjust things I formerly spoke in my haste. 

It is not an exclusively British characteristic to regard the peopleof other nationalities with a certain amount of contempt, but with us, perhaps, the feeling is stronger than with others, or else expressedwith less reserve. Let me now at last rid myself of this error, whichis harmless and perhaps even commendable in those who stay at home, and also very natural, since it is a part of our unreasonable natureto distrust and dislike the things that are far removed and unfamiliar. Let me at last divest myself of these old English spectacles, framedin oak and with lenses of horn, to bury them for ever in this mountain, which for half a century and upwards has looked down on the strugglesof a young and feeble people against foreign aggression and domesticfoes, and where a few months ago I sang the praises of Britishcivilisation, lamenting that it had been planted here and abundantlywatered with blood, only to be plucked up again and cast into the sea. After my rambles in the interior, where I carried about in me only afading remnant of that old time-honoured superstition to prevent themost perfect sympathy between me and the natives I mixed with, I cannotsay that I am of that opinion now. I cannot believe that if this countryhad been conquered and re-colonised by England, and all that is crookedin it made straight according to our notions, my intercourse with thepeople would have had the wild, delightful flavour I have found in it. And if that distinctive flavour cannot be had along with the materialprosperity resulting from Anglo-Saxon energy, I must breathe the wishthat this land may never know such prosperity. I do not wish to bemurdered; no man does; yet rather than see the ostrich and deer chasedbeyond the horizon, the flamingo and black-necked swan slain on theblue lakes, and the herdsman sent to twang his romantic guitar in Hadesas a preliminary to security of person, I would prefer to go aboutprepared at any moment to defend my life against the sudden assaultsof the assassin. 

We do not live by bread alone, and British occupation does not giveto the heart all the things for which it craves. Blessings may evenbecome curses when the gigantic power that bestows them on us scaresfrom our midst the shy spirits of Beauty and of Poesy. Nor is it solelybecause it appeals to the poetic feelings in us that this countryendears itself to my heart. It is the perfect republic: the sense ofemancipation experienced in it by the wanderer from the Old World isindescribably sweet and novel. Even in our ultra-civilised conditionat home we do periodically escape back to nature; and, breathing thefresh mountain air and gazing over vast expanses of ocean and land, we find that she is still very much to us. It is something more thanthese bodily sensations we experience when first mingling with ourfellow-creatures, where all men are absolutely free and equal as here. I fancy I hear some wise person exclaiming, "No, no, no! In name onlyis your Purple Land a republic; its constitution is a piece of wastepaper, its government an oligarchy tempered by assassination andrevolution. " True; but the knot of ambitious rulers all striving topluck each other down have no power to make the people miserable. Theunwritten constitution, mightier than the written one, is in the heartof every man to make him still a republican and free with a freedomit would be hard to match anywhere else on the globe. The Bedouinhimself is not so free, since he accords an almost superstitiousreverence and implicit obedience to his sheikh. Here the lord of manyleagues of land and of herds unnumbered sits down to talk with thehired shepherd, a poor, bare-footed fellow in his smoky _rancho_, and no class or caste difference divides them, no consciousness oftheir widely different positions chills the warm current of sympathybetween two human hearts. How refreshing it is to meet with this perfectfreedom of intercourse, tempered only by that innate courtesy andnative grace of manner peculiar to Spanish Americans! What a changeto a person coming from lands with higher and lower classes, each withits innumerable hateful subdivisions--to one who aspires not to minglewith the class above him, yet who shudders at the slouching carriageand abject demeanour of the class beneath him! If this absolute equalityis inconsistent with perfect political order, I for one should grieveto see such order established. Moreover, it is by no means true thatthe communities which oftenest startle us with crimes of disorder andviolence are morally worse than others. A community in which there arenot many crimes cannot be morally healthy. There were practically_no_ crimes in Peru under the Inca dynasty; it was a marvellousthing for a person to commit an offence in that empire. And the reasonfor this most unnatural state of things was this--the Inca system ofgovernment was founded on that most iniquitous and disastrous doctrinethat the individual bears the same relation to the State as a childto its parents, that its life from the cradle to the grave must beregulated for it by a power it is taught to regard as omniscient--apower practically omnipresent and almighty. In such a state there couldbe no individual will, no healthy play of passions, and consequentlyno crime. What wonder that a system so unspeakably repugnant to a beingwho feels that his will is a divinity working within him fell to piecesat the first touch of foreign invasion, or that it left no vestige ofits pernicious existence on the continent it had ruled! For the wholestate was, so to speak, putrid even before dissolution, and when itfell it mingled with the dust and was forgotten. Poland, before itsconquest by Russia, a country ill-governed and disorderly as the BandaOrientál, did not mingle with dust like that when it fell--theimplacable despotism of the Czar was unable to crush its fierce spirit;its _Will_ still survived to gild dreary oppression with halloweddreams, to make it clutch with a fearful joy the dagger concealed inits bosom. But I had no need to go away from this Green Continent toillustrate the truth of what I have said. People who talk and writeabout the disorderly South American republics are fond of pointing toBrazil, that great, peaceful, progressive empire, as setting an exampleto be followed. An orderly country, yes, and the people in it steepedto their lips in every abominable vice! Compared with these emasculatedchildren of the equator, the Orientals are Nature's noblemen. 

I can very well imagine some over-righteous person saying, "Alas, poordeluded soul, how little importance can we attach to your speciousapologies of a people's lawlessness, when your own personal narrativeshows that the moral atmosphere you have been breathing has quitecorrupted you! Go back over your own record, and you will find thatyou have, according to _our_ notions, offended in various waysand on divers occasions, and that you are even without the grace torepent of all the evil things you have thought, said, and done. "

I have not read many books of philosophy, because when I tried to bea philosopher "happiness was always breaking in, " as someone says;also because I have loved to study men rather than books; but in thelittle I have read there occurs a passage I remember well, and thisI shall quote as my answer to anyone who may call me an immoral personbecause my passions have not always remained in a quiescent state, like hounds--to quote the simile of a South American poet--slumberingat the feet of the huntsman resting against a rock at noon. "We shouldregard the perturbations of the mind, " says Spinoza, "not in the lightof vices of human nature, but as properties just as pertinent to itas are heat, storms, thunder, and the like, to the nature of theatmosphere, which phenomena, though inconvenient, are yet necessary, and have fixed causes by means of which we endeavour to understandtheir nature, and the mind has just as much pleasure in seeing themaright as in knowing such things as flatter the senses. " Let me havethe phenomena which are inconvenient as well as the things which flatterthe senses, and the chances are that my life will be a healthier andhappier one than that of the person who spends his time on a cloudblushing at Nature's naughtiness. 

It is often said that an ideal state--a Utopia where there is no folly, crime, or sorrow--has a singular fascination for the mind. Now, whenI meet with a falsehood, I care not who the great persons who proclaimit may be, I do not try to like it or believe it or mimic thefashionable prattle of the world about it. I hate all dreams ofperpetual peace, all wonderful cities of the sun, where people consumetheir joyful, monotonous years in mystic contemplations, or find theirdelight, like Buddhist monks, in gazing on the ashes of dead generationsof devotees. The state is one unnatural, unspeakably repugnant: thedreamless sleep of the grave is more tolerable to the active, healthymind than such an existence. If Signor Gaudentio di Lucca, still keepinghimself alive by means of his marvellous knowledge of the secrets ofNature, were to appear before me now on this mountain to inform methat the sacred community he resided with in Central Africa was nomere dream, and should offer to conduct me to it, I should decline togo with him. I should prefer to remain in the Banda Orientál, eventhough by so doing I should grow at last to be as bad as any personin it, and ready to "wade through slaughter" to the Presidential Chair. For even in my own country of England, which is not so perfect as oldPeru or the Pophar's country in Central Africa, I have been long dividedfrom Nature, and now in this Oriental country, whose political misdeedsare a scandal alike to pure England and impure Brazil, I have beenreunited to her. For this reason I love her with all her faults. Here, like Santa Coloma, I will kneel down and kiss this stone, as an infantmight kiss the breast that feeds it; here, fearless of dirt, like JohnCarrickfergus, I will thrust my hands into the loose brown soil toclasp the hands, as it were, of dear mother Nature after our longseparation. 

Farewell, beautiful land of sunshine and storm, of virtue and of crime;may the invaders of the future fare on your soil like those of thepast and leave you in the end to your own devices; may the chivalrousinstinct of Santa Coloma, the passion of Dolores, the loving-kindnessof Candelaria still live in your children to brighten their lives withromance and beauty; may the blight of our superior civilisation neverfall on your wild flowers, or the yoke of our progress be laid on yourherdsman--careless, graceful, music-loving as the birds--to make himlike the sullen, abject peasant of the Old World!

CHAPTER XXIX

The meeting of my fellow-travellers took place next day on board theship, where we three were the only cabin passengers. On going downinto the little saloon I found Demetria waiting for us, considerablyimproved in appearance by her new dress, but looking pale and anxious, for she probably found this meeting a trying one. The two women lookedearnestly at each other, but Demetria, to hide her nervousness, Isuppose, had framed her face in the old, impassive, almost coldexpression it had worn when I first knew her, and Paquíta was repelledby it; so after a somewhat lukewarm greeting they sat down and madecommonplace remarks. Two women more unlike each other in appearance, character, education, and disposition it would have been difficult tofind; still, I had hoped they might be friends, and felt keenlydisappointed at the result of their first meeting. After anuncomfortable interval we all rose. I was about to proceed to the deck, they to their respective cabins, when Paquíta, without any warning ofwhat was coming, suddenly burst into tears and threw her arms aboutDemetria's neck. 

"Oh, dear Demetria, what a sad life yours has been!" she exclaimed. 

That was like her, so impulsive, and with such a true instinct to makeher do the right thing always! The other gladly responded to theembrace, and I hastily retreated, leaving them kissing and minglingtheir tears. 

When I got out on deck I found that we were already on our way, sailsup, and a fresh wind sending us swiftly through the dull green water. There were five steerage passengers, disreputable-looking fellows in_ponchos_ and slouch hats, lounging about the deck smoking; butwhen we got outside the harbour and the ship began to toss a little, they very soon dropped their cigars and began ignominiously creepingaway out of sight of the grinning sailors. Only one remained, agrizzly-bearded, rough-looking old gaucho, who firmly kept his seatat the stern, as if determined to see the last of "The Mount, " as thepretty city near the foot of Magellan's Hill is called by the Englishpeople in this region. 

To satisfy myself that none of these fellows were sent in pursuit ofDemetria, I asked our Italian captain who they were and how long theyhad been on board, and was much relieved to hear that they werefugitives--rebels probably--and had all been concealed for the pastthree or four days in the ship, waiting to get away from Montevideo. 

Towards evening it came on very rough, the wind veering to the southand blowing half a gale, a very favourable wind, as it happened, totake us across this unlovely "Silver Sea, " as the poets of the Platainsist on calling it, with its villainous, brick-red, chopping waves, so disagreeable to bad sailors. Paquíta and Demetria suffered agonies, so that I was obliged to keep with them a good deal. I very imprudentlytold them not to be alarmed, that it was nothing--_onlysea-sickness_--and I verily believe they both hated me with alltheir hearts for a little while in consequence. Fortunately I hadanticipated these harrowing scenes, and had provided a bottle ofchampagne for the occasion; and after I had consumed two or threeglassfuls to encourage them, showing how easy this kind of medicineis to take, I prevailed on them to drink the remainder. At length, about ten o'clock in the evening, they began to suspect that theirmalady was not going to prove fatal, and, seeing them so much better, I went up to get some fresh air. There at the stern still sat thestoical old gaucho, looking extremely miserable. 

"Good evening, old comrade, " said I; "will you smoke a cigar?"

"Young master, you seem to have a good heart, " he returned, shakinghis head at the proffered cigar, "do, for God's sake, get me a littlerum. I am dying for something to warm my inside and stop my head fromgoing round like a top, but nothing can I get from these jabberingforeign brutes on board. "

"Yes, why not, my old friend, " said I, and, going to the master of theboat, I succeeded in getting a pint of rum in a bottle. 

The old fellow clutched it with eager delight and took a long draught. "Ah!" he said, patting first the bottle, then his stomach, "this putsnew life into a man! Will this voyage never end, master? When I am onhorseback I can forget that I am old, but these cursed waves remindme that I have lived many years. "

I lit my cigar and sat down to have a talk with him. 

"Ah, with you foreigners it is just the same--land or water, " hecontinued. "You can even smoke--what a calm head and quiet stomach youmust have! But what puzzles me is this, señor; how you, a foreigner, come to be travelling with native women. Now, there is that beautifulyoung señora with the violet eyes, who can she be?"

"She is my wife, old man, " said I, laughing, a little amused at hiscuriosity. 

"Ah, you are married then--so young? She is beautiful, graceful, welleducated, the daughter of wealthy parents, no doubt, but frail, frail, señor; and some day, not a very distant day--but why should I predictsorrow to a gay heart? Only her face, señor, is strange to me; it doesnot recall the features of any Oriental family I know. "

"That is easily explained, " I said, surprised at his shrewdness, "sheis an Argentine, not an Oriental. "

"Ah, that explains it, " he said, taking another long pull at the bottle. "As for the other señora with you, I need not ask you who _she_is. "

"Why, who is she?" I returned. 

"A Peralta, if there ever was one, " he returned confidently. 

His reply disturbed me not a little, for, after all my precautions, this old man had perhaps been sent to follow Demetria. 

"Yes, " he continued, with an evident pride in his knowledge of familiesand faces which tended to allay my suspicions; "a Peralta and not aMadariaga, nor a Sanchez, nor a Zelaya, nor an Ibarra. Do I not knowa Peralta when I see one?" And here he laughed scornfully at theabsurdity of such an idea. 

"Tell me, " I said, "how do you know a Peralta?"

"The question!" he exclaimed. "You are a Frenchman or a German fromover the sea, and do not understand these things. Have I borne armsforty years in my country's service not to know a Peralta! On earththey are with me; if I go to Heaven I meet them there, and in Hell Isee them; for when have I charged into the hottest of the fight andhave not found a Peralta there before me? But I am speaking of thepast, señor; for now I am also like one that has been left on the fieldforgotten--left for the vultures and foxes. You will no longer findthem walking on the earth; only where men have rushed together swordin hand you will find their bones. Ah, friend!" And here, overcomewith sad memories, the ancient warrior took another drink from hisbottle. 

"They cannot all be dead, " said I, "if, as you imagine, the señoratravelling with me is a Peralta. "

"As I imagine!" he repeated scornfully. "Do I not know what I am talkingabout, young sir? They are dead, I tell you--dead as the past, deadas Oriental independence and honour. Did I not ride into the fight atGil de los Medanos with the last of the Peraltas, Calixto, when hereceived his baptism of blood? Fifteen years old, señor, only fifteen, when he galloped into the fight, for he had the light heart, the bravespirit, and the hand swift to strike of a Peralta. And after the fightour colonel, Santa Coloma, who was killed the other day at San Paulo, embraced the boy before all the troops. He is dead, señor, and withCalixto died the house of Peralta. "

"You knew Santa Coloma, then?" I said. "But you are mistaken, he wasnot killed at San Paulo, he made his escape. "

"So they say--the ignorant ones, " he returned. "But he is dead, forhe loved his country, and all who are of that mind are slain. Howshould he escape?"

"I tell you he is not dead, " I repeated, vexed at his stubbornpersistence. "I also knew him, old man, and was with him at San Paulo. "

He looked at me for a long time, and then took another swig from hisbottle. 

"Señor, this is not a thing I love joking about, " said he. "Let ustalk of other things. What I want to know is, what is Calixto's sisterdoing here? Why has she left her country?"

Receiving no reply to this question, he went on: "Has she not gotproperty? Yes, a large _estancia_, impoverished, ruined, if youlike, but still a very large tract of land. When your enemies do notfear you, then they cease to persecute. A broken old man, bereft ofreason--surely they would not trouble him! No, no, she is leaving hercountry for other reasons. Yes, there is some private plot againsther; some design, perhaps, to carry her off, or even to destroy herand get possession of her property. Naturally, in such a case, shewould fly for protection to Buenos Ayres, where there is one with someof her blood in his veins able to protect her person and her property. "

I was astonished to hear him, but his last words were a mystery to me. 

"There is no one in Buenos Ayres to protect her, " I said; "I only willbe there as I am here to shield her, and if, as you think, she has anenemy, he must reckon with me--one who, like that Calixto you speakof, has a hand quick to strike. "

"There spoke the heart of a Blanco!" he exclaimed, clutching my arm, and then, the boat giving a lurch at that moment, almost dragging medown in his efforts to steady himself. After another sip of rum hewent on: "But who are you, young sir, if that is not an impertinentquestion? Do you possess money, influence, powerful friends, that youtake upon yourself the care of this woman? Is it in your power tobaffle and crush her enemy or enemies, to protect not only her person, but her property, which, in her absence, will become the prey ofrobbers?"

"And who are you, old man?" I returned, unable to give a satisfactoryanswer to one of his searching questions, "and why do you ask me thesethings? And who is this powerful person you speak of in Buenos Ayreswith some of her blood in his veins, but of whose existence she isignorant?"

He shook his head silently, then deliberately proceeded to take outand light a cigarette. He smoked with a placid enjoyment which mademe think that his refusal of my cigar and his bitter complaints aboutthe effects of the ship's tossing on him had merely been to get thebottle of rum out of me. He was evidently a veteran in more sensesthan one, and now, finding that I would tell him no more secrets, herefused to answer any questions. Fearing that I had imprudently toldhim too much already, I finally left him and retired to my bunk. 

Next morning we arrived at Buenos Ayres, and cast anchor about twomiles from shore, for that was as near the land as we could get. Presently we were boarded by a Custom House officer, and for some timelonger I was engaged in getting out our luggage and in bargaining withthe captain to put us on shore. When I had completed these arrangementsI was very much surprised to see the cunning old soldier I had talkedwith the evening before sitting in the Custom House boat, which wasjust putting off from the side. Demetria had been looking on when theold fellow had left the ship, and she now came to me looking veryexcited. 

"Richard, " she said, "did you notice that man who was a passenger withus and who has just gone off in the boat? It is Santa Coloma. "

"Oh, absurd!" I exclaimed. "I talked with that old man last night foran hour--an old grey-bearded gaucho, and no more like Santa Colomathan that sailor. "

"I know I am right, " she returned. "The General has visited my fatherat the _estancia_ and I know him well. He is disguised now andhas made himself look like a peasant, but when he went over the sideinto the boat he looked full into my face; I knew him and started, then he smiled, for he saw that I had recognised him. "

The very fact that this common-looking old man had gone on shore inthe Custom House boat proved that he was a person of consequence indisguise, and I could not doubt that Demetria was right. I feltexcessively annoyed at myself for having failed to penetrate hisdisguise; for something of the old Marcos Marcó style of speaking mightvery well have revealed his identity if I had only had my wits aboutme. I was also very much concerned on Demetria's account, for it seemedthat I had missed finding out something for her which would have beento her advantage to know. I was ashamed to tell her of that conversationabout a relation in Buenos Ayres, but secretly determined to try andfind Santa Coloma to get him to tell me what he knew. 

After landing we put our small luggage into a fly and were driven toan hotel in Calle Lima, an out-of-the-way place kept by a German; butI knew the house to be a quiet, respectable one and very moderate inits charges. 

About five o'clock in the afternoon we were together in the sitting-roomon the first floor, looking down on the street from the window, whena well-appointed carriage with a gentleman and two young ladies in itdrew up before the door. 

"Oh, Richard, " exclaimed Paquíta in the greatest excitement, "it isDon Pantaleon Villaverde with his daughters, and they are getting out!"

"Who is Villaverde?" I asked. 

"What, do you not know? He is a Judge of First Instance, and hisdaughters are my dearest friends. Is it not strange to meet them likethis? Oh, I must see them to ask for _papa_ and _mamita!_" and here shebegan to cry. 

The waiter came up with a card from the Señor Villaverde requestingan interview with the Señorita Peralta. 

Demetria, who had been trying to soothe Paquíta's intense excitementand infuse a little courage into her, was too much amazed to speak;and in another moment our visitors were in the room. Paquíta startedup tearful and trembling; then her two young friends, after staringat her for a few moments, delivered a screech of astonishment andrushed into her arms, and all three were locked together for some timein a triangular embrace. 

When the excitement of this tempestuous meeting had spent itself, SeñorVillaverde, who stood looking on with grave, impressive face, spoketo Demetria, telling her that his old friend, General Santa Coloma, had just informed him of her arrival in Buenos Ayres and of the hotelwhere she was staying. Probably she did not even know who he was, hesaid; he was her relation; his mother was a Peralta, a first cousinof her unhappy father, Colonel Peralta. He had come to see her withhis daughters to invite her to make his house her home during her stayin Buenos Ayres. He also wished to help her with her affairs, which, his friend the General had informed him, were in some confusion. Hehad, he concluded, many influential friends in the sister city, whowould be ready to assist him in arranging matters for her. 

Demetria, recovering from the nervousness she had experienced on findingthat Paquíta's great friends were her visitors, thanked him warmly andaccepted his offer of a home and assistance; then, with a quiet dignityand self-possession one would hardly expect from a girl coming amongstfashionable people for the first time in her life, she greeted hernew-found relations and thanked them for their visit. 

As they insisted on taking Demetria away with them at once, she leftus to make her preparations, while Paquíta remained conversing withher friends, having many questions to ask them. She was consumed withanxiety to know how her family, and especially her father, who madethe domestic laws, now, after so many months, regarded her elopementand marriage with me. Her friends, however, either knew nothing orwould not tell her what they knew. 

Poor Demetria! she had, with no time given her for reflection, takenthe wise course of at once accepting the offer of her influential andextremely dignified kinsman; but it was hard for her to leave herfriends at such short notice, and when she came back prepared for herdeparture the separation tried her severely. With tears in her eyesshe bade Paquíta farewell, but when she took my hand in hers, for sometime her trembling lips refused to speak. Overcoming her emotions bya great effort, she at length said, addressing her visitors, "For myescape from a sad and perilous position and for the pleasure of findingmyself here amongst relations, I am indebted to this young friend whohas been a brother to me. "

Señor Villaverde listened and bowed towards me, but with no softeningin his stern, calm face, while his cold grey eyes seemed to lookstraight through me at something beyond. His manner towards me mademe feel a kind of despair, for how strong must have been his disapprovalof my conduct in running off with his friend's daughter--how great hisindignation against me, when it prevented him from bestowing one smileor one kind word on me to thank me for all I had done for his kinswoman!Yet this was only the reflected indignation of my father-in-law. 

We went down to the carriage to see them off, and then, finding myselffor a moment by the side of one of the young ladies, I tried to findout something for myself. "Pray tell me, señorita, " I said, "what youknow about my father-in-law. If it is very bad, I promise you my wifeshall not hear a word of it; but it is best that I should know thetruth before meeting him. "

A cloud came over her bright, expressive face, while she glancedanxiously at Paquíta; then, bending towards me, she whispered, "Ah, my friend, he is implacable! I am so sorry, for Paquíta's sake. " Andthen, with a smile of irrepressible coquetry, she added, "And foryours. "

The carriage drove away, and Demetria's eyes, looking back at me, werefilled with tears, but in Señor Villaverde's eyes, also glancing back, there was an expression that boded ill for my future. His feeling wasnatural, perhaps, for he was the father of two very pretty girls. 

Implacable, and I was now divided from him by no silver orbrick-coloured sea! By returning I had made myself amenable to thelaws I had broken by marrying a girl under age without her father'sconsent. The person in England who runs away with a ward in Chanceryis not a greater offender against the law than I was. It was now inhis power to have me punished, to cast me into prison for an indefinitetime, and if not to crush my spirit, he would at least be able to breakthe heart of his unhappy daughter. Those wild, troubled days in thePurple Land now seemed to my mind peaceful, happy days, and the bitterdays with no pleasure in them were only now about to begin. Implacable!

Suddenly looking up, I found Paquíta's violet eyes, full of sadquestioning, fixed on my face. 

"Tell me truly, Richard, what have you heard?" she asked. 

I forced a smile, and, taking her hand, assured her that I had heardnothing to cause her any uneasiness. "Come, " I said, "let us go in andprepare to leave town to-morrow. We will go back to the point we startedfrom--your father's _estancia_, for the sooner this meeting youare thinking about so anxiously is over the better will it be for allof us. "

APPENDIX

HISTORY OF THE BANDA ORIENTÁL

The country, called in this work the Purple Land, was discovered byMagellan in the year 1500, and he called the hill, or mountain, whichgives its name to the capital, Monte Vidi. He described it as ahat-shaped mountain; and it is probable that, four centuries ago, thetall, conical hat, which is worn to this day by women in South Wales, was a common form in Spain and Portugal. 

In due time settlements were made; but the colonists of those daysloved gold and adventure above everything, and, finding neither in theBanda, they little esteemed it. For two centuries it was neglected byits white possessors, while the cattle they had imported continued tomultiply, and, returning to a feral life, overran the country in amazingnumbers. 

The heroic period in South American history then passed away. El Dorado, the Spaniard's New Jerusalem, has changed into a bank of malariousmist and a cloud of mosquitoes, Amazons, giants, pigmies. 

 "The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders, "

when closely looked for, turned out to be Red Indians of a type whichvaried but little throughout the entire vast continent. Wanderers fromthe Old World grew weary of seeking the tropics only to sink intoflowery graves. They turned away sick at heart from the great desolationwhere the splendid empire of the Children of the Sun had so latelyflourished. The accumulated treasures had been squandered. The cruelcrusades of the Paulists against the Jesuit missions had ceased forthe inhuman slave-hunters had utterly destroyed the smiling gardensin the wilderness. A remnant of the escaped converts had gone back toa wild life in the woods, and the Fathers, who had done their Master'swork so well, drifted away to mingle in other scenes or die of brokenhearts. Then, in the sober eighteenth century, when the disillusionwas complete, Spain woke up to the fact that in the temperate part ofthe continent, shared by her with Portugal, she possessed a new brightlittle Spain worth cultivating. About the same time, Portugal discoveredthat the acquisition of this pretty country, with its lovely Lusitanianclimate, would nicely round off her vast possessions on the south side. Forthwith these two great colonising powers fell to fighting over theBanda, where there were no temples of beaten gold, or mythical racesof men, or fountains of everlasting youth. The quarrel might havecontinued to the end of time, so languidly was it conducted by bothparties, had not great events come to swallow up the little ones. 

At the beginning of the nineteenth century the English invasion burstlike a sudden terrible thunderstorm on the country. Montevideo on theeast and Buenos Ayres on the west side of the sea-like river werecaptured and lost again. The storm was soon over, but it had the effectof precipitating the revolution of 1810, which presently ended in theloss to Spain of all her American possessions. These changes broughtonly fresh wars and calamities to the long-suffering Banda. The ancientfeud between Spain and Portugal descended to the new Brazilian Empireand the new Argentine Confederation, and these claimants contended forthe country until 1828, when they finally agreed to let it governitself in its own fashion. After thus acquiring its independence, thelittle Belgium of the New World cast off its pretty but hatedappellation of Cisplatina and resumed its old joyous name of BandaOrientál. With light hearts the people then proceeded to dividethemselves into two political parties--Whites and Reds. Endlessstruggles for mastery ensued, in which the Argentines and Brazilians, forgetting their solemn compact, were for ever taking sides. But ofthese wars of crows and pies it would be idle to say more, since, aftergoing on for three-quarters of a century, they are not wholly endedyet. The rambles and adventures described in the book take us back tothe late 'sixties or early 'seventies of the last century, when thecountry was still in the condition in which it had remained since thecolonial days, when the ten years' siege of Montevideo was not yet aremote event, and many of the people one met had had a part in it.