The upper end of the table was occupied by the host himself and his principal guests. His daughter sat on his left hand, while Don Estevan was placed upon the right. After them, the Senator and the chaplain, and Pedro Diaz. At the lower end were seated Tiburcio, Cuchillo, Baraja and Oroche.
The chaplain pronounced the benedicite. Although it was no longer the same jumbling formula, sans façon, which he had used at the death-bed of the widow of Arellanos, yet the air of mock solemnity and unction with which the grace was uttered, recalled to the heart of Tiburcio that sad souvenir, which recent events had for a time caused him to forget.
Cheerfulness soon reigned around the table. The expedition was talked of, and toasts drunk to its success. Vast silver goblets of antique shape were used for wine glasses, and these, passing rapidly from hand to mouth, soon produced an abundance of good-humour among the guests.
“Gentlemen!” said Don Augustin, when the festive scene was near its end, “before retiring I have the honour to invite you all to a hunt of the wild horse on my estate – which is to come off early in the morning.”
Each of the guests accepted the invitation, with that abandon natural to people who have made a good supper.
With regard to Tiburcio, jealousy was devouring him. He scarce ate of the rich viands placed before him. He kept his eyes constantly fixed upon Don Estevan, who, during the supper appeared to pay marked attentions to Rosarita, and for every one of which Tiburcio thanked him with a look of hatred. As soon as the supper was ended, the young man silently left the room and repaired to the chamber that had been assigned to him for the night.
At an early hour – for such was the custom of the hacienda – all the guests had retired to their sleeping apartments – even the domestics were no longer to be seen in the great hall; and a profound silence reigned throughout the vast building, as if all the world had gone to rest. But all the world was not yet asleep.
Chapter Twenty
The Assignation
Alone in his chamber, Tiburcio awaited impatiently the hour named by Rosarita. From his window he cast a distracted glance over the plain that stretched away from the walls of the hacienda. The moon was up in the heavens, and the road leading to Tubac appeared under her light shining like a vast ribbon extended through the middle of the forest. The forest itself appeared asleep; not even a breath stirred the leaves of the trees, and the only sounds he heard were those caused by the half-wild herds that wandered through its glades. Now and then the bellowing of a bull denoted the uneasiness of the animal – perhaps from the presence of those terrible night robbers, the puma and jaguar. There was one other sound that reached the ear of Tiburcio, but this appeared to proceed from some part of the hacienda itself. It was the tinkling of a mandolin. The hour was appropriate to amorous reflections, as well as to thoughts of a graver character, and both presented themselves at that moment to the spirit of Tiburcio. Like all those whose life has been passed amid the depths of the desert, there was at the bottom of his heart a certain poetic temperament, at the same time that his soul exhibited that energetic vigour required by the dangers which surround such a life of solitude. His present position then was perfectly appropriate to this double character. His love was unreciprocated – the coolness of Rosarita, almost assured him of the painful fact – and some secret presentiment told him that he was encompassed by enemies.
While thus sadly reflecting on his situation, an object came under his eyes that attracted his attention. It was the gleam of a fire, which appeared to be kindled under cover of the forest at no great distance from the hacienda. The light was partly eclipsed by that of the moon, but still it could be traced by the greater redness of its rays, as they trembled mysteriously on the silver foliage of the trees. It denoted the halting-place of some traveller.
“So near the hacienda!” muttered Tiburcio, in entering upon a new series of reflections. “What can it mean? Why have these travellers not come here to demand hospitality? They have certainly some reason for keeping themselves at a distance? They may be unknown friends to me for heaven often sends such to those who stand in need of them. Cuchillo, Don Estevan, and this pompous Senator, all appear to be my enemies and all are secure under this roof! why might not these travellers, who appear to shun it for that very reason prove friends to me?”
The hour of rendezvous had at length arrived. Tiburcio took up his serapé and his knife – the last, the only weapon he had – and prepared to go out from his chamber without making any noise. A fearful conflict of emotions was passing in his bosom; for he knew that in a few minutes would be decided the question of his happiness or misery. Before leaving his chamber, he looked once more through the window in the direction of the forest fire. It was still gleaming in the same place.
While the lover, with cautious tread and wildly beating heart, was silently traversing the long gallery, and passing round to that side upon which opened the window of Rosarita, other scenes were passing elsewhere that must now be detailed.
Since his arrival at the hacienda, Don Estevan, in presence of the other guests, had scarce found an opportunity to speak with the haciendado on business that concerned both of them. Only for one moment had they been alone; and then the Spaniard had briefly related to Don Augustin the contract he had entered into with Cuchillo. When Don Estevan mentioned the secret of the Golden Valley, the haciendado appeared to make a slight gesture, as of disappointment, but their short dialogue ended abruptly by a promise to return to the subject at a later hour of the night.
Don Estevan awaited until all the other guests had retired to their chambers. Then drawing the Senator into the bay of one of the large windows of the sala, he requested him to look up at the stars that were shining in all their brilliance in the blue sky above.
“See!” said he, pointing to a particular constellation. “That is the Chariot that has risen above the eastern horizon. Do you perceive a single star farther down, which scarce shines through the vapour? That is the emblem of your star, which at present pale, to-morrow may be in the ascendant, and gleam more brightly than any of those that compose the brilliant cortege of the Chariot.”
“What mean you, Señor Arechiza?”
“I shall tell you presently. Perhaps the hour is nearer than you think when you may be the future master of this hacienda, by a marriage with the charming daughter of its present owner, who is to be its heiress. Come presently to my apartment. The conversation which I am about to have with Don Augustin must be decisive, and I shall let you know the result.”
With these words the Spaniard and the Senator parted – the heart of the latter beating at the same time with hope and fear.
Don Estevan now awaited the haciendado, who the moment after came up to him.
The proprietor of the Hacienda del Venado, as has already been seen, had given to the Spaniard more than an ordinary welcome. His politeness to him when in presence of witnesses, was even less respectful than when the two were alone. On his side Don Estevan appeared to accept the homage of the other as if it were due to him. There was in his polite condescension towards the rich proprietor, and in the deference of the latter towards him, something resembling the relation that might be supposed to exist between a powerful sovereign and one of his noble vassals.
It was not until after reiterated requests – orders they might almost be called – that Don Augustin consented to be seated in the presence of the other – whereas the Spaniard had flung himself into a fauteuil on the moment of entering the chamber, and with the most perfect abandon.
The haciendado waited silently for Don Estevan to speak.
“Well, what do you think of your future son-in-law?” inquired the Spaniard. “I presume you never saw him before?”
“Never,” answered Don Augustin. “But if he was even less favoured by nature than he is, that would make no obstacle to our projects.”
“I know him; he only needs to be known to prove that he has in him the stuff of a gentleman, besides being a senator of the illustrious congress of Arispe.”
The Spaniard pronounced these words with a slight smile of contempt.
“But, señor,” continued he, “that is not the difficulty, the important matter is whether your daughter will find him to her liking.”
“My daughter will act according to my wish,” said the haciendado.
“But supposing her heart is not free?”
“The heart of Rosarita is free, Señor Don Estevan; how could it be otherwise – she whose life has been spent in the midst of these deserts?”
“And what about this ragged young fellow, this Tiburcio Arellanos, whom you appear to know? he is in love with your daughter?”
“I have been made aware of it this very morning.”
“If it is only a few hours, then, since you have been apprised of the secret of his passion, surely that of your daughter cannot have to this time escaped you?”
“The truth is,” answered Don Augustin, smiling, “that I understand better how to follow the traces of an Indian, and read in the countenance of a savage his most secret thoughts, than to look into the heart of a young girl. But I repeat it, I have reason to believe that my daughter’s heart is free of any such affection. I do not apprehend any difficulty in this regard. I dread an obstacle of a more important character – I mean an obstacle to the expedition you are about to conduct into the desert.”
Here the haciendado communicated to Don Estevan the particulars which the monk had gathered at the death-bed of the widow of Arellanos, and which seemed to produce a strong impression on the Spaniard; but although the conversation continued for some time longer, I shall not here detail what was said, but return to the Senator, who with anxious heart was now awaiting Don Estevan in the apartment which had been assigned to the latter.
Chapter Twenty One
The Duke de Armada
The chamber set apart for the Señor Don Estevan de Arechiza was undoubtedly the best in the house; and, notwithstanding the little progress that luxury has made in the state of Sonora, was furnished with considerable elegance.
In this chamber Don Estevan found the Senator pacing to and fro, with an air that bespoke him a prey to the most vivid emotions.
“Well, Señor Don Vicente!” began Arechiza, who appeared to make light of the impatience of his protégé, “what do you think of the daughter of our host? have I exaggerated her beauty?”
“Oh, my friend!” exclaimed the Senator, with all that vivacity of pantomimic gesture so characteristic of the South, “the reality far exceeds the imagination. She is an angel! Even in our country, famous for its beautiful women, Doña Rosarita is certainly loveliest of all.”
“And richest too,” added the Spaniard, with a smile.
“Who would have expected to find, in the middle of the desert, such an accomplished beauty? such youthful freshness? Such charms were created to shine in afar higher sphere?”
“At the court of a king, for instance,” carelessly rejoined Arechiza.
“Oh! Señor Don Estevan!” again exclaimed the Senator in an earnest voice, “do not keep me in suspense; the divine, the rich Doña Rosarita – is it possible I am to have her for my wife?”
“One word from me, one promise from you, and the thing is done. I have her father’s word. Within fifteen days you may be the husband of his daughter.”
“Agreeable as easy.”
“A little later you will be rich.”
“No harm in that.”
“Later still you will be a grand proprietor.”
“Oh! it is magnificent. Carramba! Señor de Arechiza, it is a perfect cataract of felicities to be lavished upon my head, it is a dream! it is a dream!” shouted the Senator, as he strode to and fro across the floor.
“Lose no time then in making it a reality,” replied Don Estevan.
“But is the time so pressing?” inquired the Senator, suddenly pausing in his steps.
“Why this question? Is it possible to be too quick in obtaining happiness?”
The Senator appeared thoughtful, and for a moment presented an aspect of embarrassment, in strange contrast to his previous looks. He replied after a pause —
“The fact is, Don Estevan, I am willing to marry an heiress whose wealth, as is usually the case, would compensate for her ugliness. In this case it is the very beauty of the lady that confuses me.”
“Perhaps she does not please you!”
“On the contrary, so much happiness awes me. It appears to me, for a reason which I cannot divine, that some sad disappointment lurks under the seductive prospect.”
“Ah! just as I expected,” answered Don Estevan; “it is the human heart. I knew you would make some objection of this kind, but I thought you were more a man of the world than to trouble yourself about the past with such a splendid fortune before you. Ah! my poor Despilfarro,” added the Spaniard, with a laugh, “I thought you were more advanced.”
“But why, Don Estevan?” inquired the Senator, intending to give a proof of his high diplomatic capacity, – “why is it, entre nous, that you desire to lavish this treasure of beauty – to say nothing of her grand wealth – upon another, while you yourself – ”
“While I myself might marry her,” interrupted the Spaniard. “Is that what you mean to say? Suppose I have no wish to get married. I had that desire long ago, like the rest of the world. My history has been like a great many others; that is, my sweetheart married another. It is true I adopted the means to re – to console myself, and quickly too,” added Arechiza, with a dark scowl. “But who do you think I am, Don Vicente Tragaduros?”
“Who are you! why; Don Estevan de Arechiza, of course!”
“That does honour to your penetration,” said the Spaniard, with a disdainful smile. “Well, then, since I have already demanded the hand of Doña Rosarita for the illustrious senator Tragaduros y Despilfarro, of course I cannot now take his place.”
“But why, señor, did you not make the demand on your own account?”
“Why, because, my dear friend, were this young lady three times as beautiful, and three times as rich as she is, she would neither be beautiful enough nor rich enough for me!”
Despilfarro started with astonishment.
“Eh! and who are you then, señor, may I ask in my turn?”
“Only, as you have said, Don Estevan Arechiza,” coolly replied the Spaniard.
The Senator made three or four turns across the room before he could collect his thoughts; but in obedience to the distrust that had suddenly sprung up within him, he resumed:
“There is something in all this I cannot explain, and when I can’t explain a thing I can’t understand it.”
“Good logic,” exclaimed Don Estevan, in a tone of raillery, “but am I really mistaken about you, my dear Senator? I did you the honour to believe you above certain prejudices; and even if there was anything in the past life of the beautiful Rosarita – for instance, any prejudice to be trampled under foot – is a million of dowry, besides three millions of expectation, nothing in your eyes?”
Don Estevan put this question for the purpose of sounding the morality of the man, or rather to try the strength of a tool, which he meant to make use of.
Despilfarro returned no reply.
“Now, then, I await your answer,” said Don Estevan, after a pause, appearing to take pleasure in the Senator’s embarrassment.
“Upon my word, Don Estevan,” replied Despilfarro, “you are cruel to mystify one in this manner. I – I – Carramba! it is very embarrassing.”
Don Estevan interrupted him. This hesitation on the part of Despilfarro told the Spaniard what he wished to know. An ironical smile played upon his lips, and laying aside his pleasantry, he resumed in a serious tone:
“Listen to me, Tragaduros! It would be unworthy of a gentleman to continue longer this badinage where a lady’s reputation is concerned. I can assure you, then, that the past life of the Doña Rosarita is without a stain.”
The Senator breathed freely.
“And now,” continued Don Estevan, “it is necessary that you give me your full confidence, and I will set you an example by giving mine with a perfect frankness: the success of the noble cause I have embraced depends upon it. First, then, hear who I am. Arechiza is only a borrowed appellation. As to my real name – which you shall soon know – I made oath in my youth, that no woman, however rich or beautiful, should share it with me; therefore, now that my hair is grey do you think that I should be likely to break the oath I have so long kept? Although a wife, such as I propose for you, may ofttimes be a stepping-stone to ambition, she is oftener an obstacle.”
As he said this, Don Estevan rose, and in his turn paced the floor with an agitated air. Some traces of distrust were still perceptible upon the countenance of the Senator – they were noticed by him.
“You wish for a more precise explanation?” said he; “you shall have it.”
The Spaniard approached the window and closed the shutters – as if fearful that their conversation might be heard outside. He then sat down again, and requested the Senator to be seated near him.
Tragaduros watched him with a lively curiosity, at the same time lowering his eyes whenever they met the fiery glances of the Spaniard.
The latter appeared suddenly to become transformed, as if looking grander and nobler.
“Now, Señor Senator!” began he, “I am going to make known to you some secrets sufficient to turn your head.”
The Senator trembled.
“When the tempter carried the Son of Man to the top of a mountain, and promised him all the kingdoms of the earth if he would fall down and worship him, he scarce offered him more than I am offering to the Senator of Arispe. As the tempter, then, I lay at your feet honours, power, and riches, if you will subscribe to my conditions.”
The solemnity of this exordium, and the imposing manner of Don Estevan, following so closely upon the jocular mien he had hitherto exhibited, made a painful impression upon the mind of the Senator. There was a short moment in which he regretted being so advanced in his opinions, and during this time the great dowry of Rosarita and her rosy lips had but slight prestige for him.
“It is now twenty years,” continued the Spaniard, “since I took up my real vocation in the world. Previous to that time, I believed myself made for domestic life, and indulged in those absurd dreams of love natural to young hearts. An illusion soon destroyed – an evil hour – an accident showed me the deception; and I found out that I was made for ambition – nothing more. I have therefore sought for glory and honour to satisfy my desires, and I have won them. I have conquered the right to stand uncovered in the presence of the king of Spain. Chevalier of the Order of Saint James of the Sword, I have taken part in the royal ceremonies of the white cloak and red sword; and I may say that for me fame has been no idle illusion. Chevalier also of Carlos the Third, I have shared with the royal princes the title of the Grand Cross. I have won successively the Order of Saint Ferdinand, of Saint Hermengildo, and the Golden Fleece of Calatrava. These honours, although coveted by all, were for me but sterile consolations.”
This enumeration, made without the slightest show of ostentation, caused the Senator to regard the speaker with an air of respectful astonishment. Don Estevan continued:
“Wealth followed close upon these honours. Rich appanages, added to the fortune I derived from my ancestors, soon left far behind me, the time when, as a simple cadet of my family, I was worth nothing but my sword. Now I was rich, opulent, and – will I tell you? – I was still far from being content. My efforts continued; and I was made Comte de Villamares, and afterwards Duke de Armada – ”
“Oh! Señor Duke,” interrupted Despilfarro, in a humble voice, “permit me – but – I – ”
“I have not yet finished,” calmly continued the Spaniard; “when you have heard all, you will no longer doubt my words. Notwithstanding your mistrust, señor, I am still nothing more than the secret agent of a prince, and I desire to remain in your eyes, as ever, the simple gentleman Don Estevan de Arechiza – nothing more. It is necessary, however, that this distrust of me should not manifest itself again; for since you are presently to know the object which I am pursuing, you will be privy to my most secret thoughts.”
The Senator continued to listen in the most respectful silence.
“As I have said, then, I followed ambition for twenty years for its own sake; or to speak more truly, I passed twenty years of my life to destroy a painful souvenir, at the same time that I was pursuing the path to fame. I fancied that in the middle of a turbulent life, this souvenir would in time be effaced from my memory. The favourite of a prince, the expectant heir to one of the first thrones in Christendom – elevated to the highest places of power – wealth prodigally lavished upon me – I hoped to be able to forget that terrible souvenir. Vain hope!” added the speaker in a solemn voice: “Alas! Nothing can banish remorse. The bloody sword of Saint James was no idle symbol in my hands; for remorse lends to ambition a fearful activity – like a voice continually crying, ‘On – on forever!’”
Don Estevan paused, and for a time remained silent, during which the Senator regarded him with a timid look, at the same time admiring the imposing and solemn dignity of his countenance.
“But where to go on?” continued the speaker; “what object to follow next? Into what new course might I precipitate this torrent of ambition that was boiling within me? At length a new incident offered itself, and gave me a fresh opportunity for action – an opportunity to strive and combat – for in my case, to struggle and fight is to forget.
“In all likelihood you have scarce heard of our political troubles, Don Vicente? I am aware that all the kingdoms of Europe might be shaken to their bases, without your knowing anything of the matter, in this out of the way corner of the world. Well, then, I shall make known to you what occurred.
“It is now about two years since the king of Spain – by a total violation of the Salic law, hitherto observed by all his ancestors – violently cut off the succession to the throne in the person of his brother Don Carlos; and by this act kindled the fires of civil war throughout the kingdom. The Infanta Isabella was declared heiress to the crown, to the exclusion of her uncle, the legal heir. This prince it was of whom I spoke, and who is my august patron and protector. I did everything in my power to assuage the mortal grief that this unexpected event naturally caused to the man, whom I above all others have reason to esteem.
“Amidst the consolations which I offered him, and the plans which I proposed, one design of a gigantic nature offered itself to my imagination. True, it presented the prospect of countless dangers, and obstacles almost insurmountable; but for this very reason I adopted it.
“My dream, then, is to conquer for my master a kingdom as vast as the one of which he has been wrongfully deprived; to restore to him one of the brightest jewels of that Transatlantic crown, which his ancestors once so gloriously wore. I dream of conquering a kingdom – and that kingdom once conquered, I, a simple gentleman, intend to present it to the true heir of the Spanish monarchy – Don Carlos de Bourbon!
“Now, do you believe, Señor Senator, that Don Estevan de Arechiza has the power to bestow upon others, and without regretting it, the beauty and wealth of the daughter of a Mexican haciendado?”
The Spaniard pronounced these last words with an air of proud tranquillity, and then remained silent, awaiting their effect upon his listener.