Remember the Alamo

  CHAPTER IV. THE SHINING BANDS OF LOVE.

  "O blest be he! O blest be he! Let him all blessings prove, Who made the chains, the shining chains, The holy chains of love!" --Spanish Ballad. "If you love a lady bright, Seek, and you shall find a way All that love would say, to say If you watch the occasion right." --Spanish Ballad.

  In the morning Isabel took breakfast with her sister. This was alwaysa pleasant event to Antonia. She petted Isabel, she waited upon her,sweetened her chocolate, spread her cakes with honey, and listened toall her complaints of Tia Rachela. Isabel came gliding in when Antoniawas about half way through the meal. Her scarlet petticoat was gorgeous,her bodice white as snow, her hair glossy as a bird's wing, but her lipsdrooped and trembled, and there was the shadow of tears in her eyes.Antonia kissed their white fringed lids, held the little form closein her arms, and fluttered about in that motherly way which Isabel hadlearned to demand and enjoy.

  "What has grieved you this morning, little dove?"

  "It is Tia Rachela, as usual. The cross old woman! She is going to tellmi madre something. Antonia, you must make her keep her tongue betweenher teeth. I promised her to confess to Fray Ignatius, and she saidI must also tell mi madre. I vowed to say twenty Hail Marias and tenGlorias, and she said 'I ought to go back to the convent.'"

  "But what dreadful thing have you been doing, Iza?"

  Iza blushed and looked into her chocolate cup, as she answeredslowly: "I gave--a--flower--away. Only a suchil flower, Antonia,that--I--wore--at--my--breast--last--night."

  "Whom did you give it to, Iza?"

  Iza hesitated, moved her chair close to Antonia, and then hid her faceon her sister's breast.

  "But this is serious, darling. Surely you did not give it to SenorHouston?"

  "Could you think I was so silly? When madre was talking to him lastnight, and when I was singing my pretty serenade, he heard nothing atall. He was thinking his own thoughts."

  "Not to Senor Houston? Who then? Tell me, Iza."

  "To--Don Luis."

  "Don Luis! But he is not here. He went to the Colorado."

  "How stupid are you, Antonia! In New York they did not teach you toput this and that together. As soon as I saw Senor Houston, I said tomyself: 'Don Luis was going to him; very likely they have met each otheron the road; very likely Don Luis is back in San Antonio. He wouldnot want to go away without bidding me good-by,' and, of course, I wasright."

  "But when did you see him last night? You never left the room."

  "So many things are possible. My heart said to me when the talk was goingon, 'Don Luis is waiting under the oleanders,' and I walked on to thebalcony and there he was, and he looked so sad, and I dropped mysuchil flower to him; and Rachela saw me, for I think she has a millioneyes,--and that is the whole matter."

  "But why did not Don Luis come in?"

  "Mi madre forbade me to speak to him. That is the fault of theValdez's."

  "Then you disobeyed mi madre, and you know what Fray Ignatius and theSisters have taught you about the fourth command."

  "Oh, indeed, I did not think of the fourth command! A sin withoutintention has not penance; and consider, Antonia, I am now sixteen,and they would shut me up like a chicken in its shell. Antonia, sweetAntonia, speak to Rachela, and make your little Iza happy. Fear is sobad for me. See, I do not even care for my cakes and honey this morning.

  "I will give Rachela the blue silk kerchief I brought from New York. Shewill forget a great deal for that, and then, Iza, darling, you must tellFray Ignatius of your sin, because it is not good to have an unconfessedsin on the soul."

  "Antonia, do not say such cruel things. I have confessed to you. FrayIgnatius will give me a hard penance. Perhaps he may say to mi madre:'That child had better go back to the convent. I say so, because Ihave knowledge.' And now I am tired of that life; I am almost a woman,Antonia, am I not?"

  Antonia looked tenderly into her face. She saw some inscrutable changethere. All was the same, and all was different. She did not understandthat it was in the eyes, those lookouts of the soul. They had lost thefrank, inquisitive stare of childhood; they were tender and misty;they reflected a heart passionate and fearful, in which love was makinghimself lord of all.

  Antonia was not without experience. There was in New York a gay,handsome youth, to whom her thoughts lovingly turned. She had promisedto trust him, and to wait for him, and neither silence nor distancehad weakened her faith or her affection. Don Luis had also made herunderstand how hard it was to leave Isabel, just when he had hoped towoo and win her. He had asked her to watch over his beloved, and to saya word in his favor when all others would be condemning him.

  Her sympathy had been almost a promise, and, indeed, she thought Isabelcould hardly have a more suitable lover. He was handsome, gallant, rich,and of good morals and noble family. They had been much together intheir lives; their childish affection had been permitted; she felt quitesure that the parents of both had contemplated a stronger affection anda more lasting tie between them.

  And evidently Don Luis had advanced further in his suit than the Senorawas aware of. He had not been able to resist the charm of secretlywooing the fresh young girl he hoped to make his wife. Their love mustbe authorized and sanctioned; true, he wished that; but the charmof winning the prize before it was given was irresistible. Antoniacomprehended all without many words; but she took her sister into thegarden, where they could be quite alone, and she sought the girl'sconfidence because she was sure she could be to her a loving guide.

  Isabel was ready enough to talk, and the morning was conducive toconfidence. They strolled slowly between the myrtle hedges in thesweet gloom of overshadowing trees, hearing only like a faint musicalconfusion the mingled murmur of the city.

  "It was just here," said Isabel. "I was walking and sitting and doingnothing at all but looking at the trees and the birds and feeling happy,and Don Luis came to me. He might have come down from the skies, I wasso astonished. And he looked so handsome, and he said such words! Oh,Antonia! they went straight to my heart."

  "When was this, dear?"

  "It was in the morning. I had been to mass with Rachela. I had saidevery prayer with my whole heart, and Rachela told me I might stay inthe garden until the sun grew hot. And as soon as Rachela was gone, DonLuis came--came just as sudden as an angel."

  "He must have followed you from mass."

  "Perhaps."

  "He should not have done that."

  "If a thing is delightful, nobody should do it. Luis said he knew thatit was decided that we should marry, but that he wanted me to be hiswife because I loved him. His face was shining with joy, his eyes werelike two stars, he called me his life, his adorable mistress, his queen,and he knelt down and took my hands and kissed them. I was too happy tospeak."

  "Oh, Iza!"

  "Very well, Antonia! It is easy to say 'Oh, Iza'; but what would youhave done? And reflect on this; no one, not even Rachela, saw him. Sothen, our angels were quite agreeable and willing. And I--I was in suchjoy, that I went straight in and told Holy Maria of my happiness. Butwhen a person has not been in love, how can they know; and I see thatyou are going to say as Sister Sacrementa said to Lores Valdez--'You area wicked girl, and such things are not to be spoken of!'"

  "Oh, my darling one, I am not so cruel. I think you did nothing verywrong, Iza. When love comes into your soul, it is like a new life. If itis a pure, good love, it is a kind of murder to kill it in any way."

  "It has just struck me, Antonia, that you may be in love also."

  "When I was in New York, our brother Jack had a friend, and he loved me,and I loved him."

  "But did grandmamma let him talk to you?"

  "He came every night. We went walking and driving. In the summer wesailed upon the river; in the winter we skated upon the ice. He helpedme with my lessons. He went with me to church."

  "And was grandmamma
with you?"

  "Very seldom. Often Jack was with us; more often we were quite alone."

  "Holy Virgin! Who ever heard tell of such good fortune? ConsueloLadrello had never been an hour alone with Don Domingo before they weremarried."

  "A good girl does not need a duenna to watch her; that is what I think.And an American girl, pure and free, would not suffer herself to bewatched by any woman, old or young. Her lover comes boldly into herhome; she is too proud, to meet him in secret."

  "Ah! that would be a perfect joy. That is what I would like! But fancywhat Rachela would say; and mi madre would cover her eyes and refuseto see me if I said such words. Believe this. It was in the spring Luistold me that he loved me, and though I have seen him often since, hehas never found another moment to speak to me alone, not for one fiveminutes. Oh, Antonia! let me have one five minutes this afternoon! Heis going away, and there is to be war, and I may never, never see himagain!"

  "Do not weep, little dove. How can you see him this afternoon?"

  "He will be here, in this very place, I know he will. When he put thesuchil flower to his lips last night he made me understand it. Thisafternoon, during the hour of siesta, will you come with me? Only forfive minutes, Antonia! You can manage Rachela, I am sure you can."

  "I can manage Rachela, and you shall have one whole hour, Iza. Onewhole hour! Come, now, we must make a visit to our mother. She will bewondering at our delay."

  The Senora had not yet risen. She had taken her chocolate and smoked hercigarito, but was still drowsing. "I have had a bad night, children,"she said full of dreadful dreams. "It must have been that American. Yet,Holy Mother, how handsome he is! And I assure you that he has the goodmanners of a courtier. Still, it was an imprudence, and Senora Valdezwill make some great thing of it."

  "You were in your own house, mother. What has Senora Valdez to do withthe guest in it? We might as well make some great thing about CaptainMorello being present at her party."

  "I have to say to you, Antonia, that Morello is a Castilian; his familyis without a cross. He has the parchments of his noble ancestry toshow."

  "And Senor Houston is an American--Scotch-American, he said, last night.Pardon, my mother, but do you know what the men of Scotland are?"

  "Si!, They are monsters! Fray Ignatius has told me. They are hereticsof the worst kind. It is their special delight to put to death goodCatholic priests. I saw that in a book; it must be true."

  "Oh, no, mother! It is not true! It is mere nonsense. Scotchmen do notmolest priests, women, and children. They are the greatest fighters inthe world."

  "Quien sabe? Who has taught you so much about these savages?"

  "Indeed, mother, they are not savages. They are a very learned race ofmen, and very pious also. Jack has many Scotch-American friends. I knowone of them very well"; and with the last words her face flushed, andher voice fell insensibly into slow and soft inflections.

  "Jack knows many of them! That is likely. Your father would send him toNew York. All kinds of men are in New York. Fray Ignatius says they haveto keep an army of police there. No wonder! And my son is so fullof nobilities, so generous, so honorable, he will not keep himselfexclusive. He is the true resemblance of my brother Don Juan Flores.Juan was always pitying the poor and making friends with those beneathhim. At last he went into the convent of the Bernardines and died like avery saint."

  "I think our Jack will be more likely to die like a very hero. If thereis any thing Jack hates, it is oppression. He would right a beggar, ifhe saw him wronged."

  "Poco a poco! I am tired of rights and wrongs. Let us talk a littleabout our dresses, for there will be a gay winter. Senora Valdez assuredme of it; many soldiers are coming here, and we shall have parties, andcock-fights, and, perhaps, even a bull-feast."

  "Oh!" cried Isabel clapping her hands enthusiastically; "a bull-feast!That is what I long to see!"

  At this moment the doctor entered the room, and Isabel ran to meethim. No father could have resisted her pretty ways, her kisses, herendearments, her coaxing diminutives of speech, her childlike lovelinessand simplicity.

  "What is making you so happy, Queridita?" [1]

  "Mi madre says there is perhaps to be a bullfeast this winter. HolyVirgin, think of it! That is the one thing I long to see!"

  With her clinging arms around him, and her eager face lifted to his forsympathy, the father could not dash the hope which he knew in his heartwas very unlikely to be realized. Neither did he think it necessaryto express opposition or disapproval for what had as yet no tangibleexistence. So he answered her with smiles and caresses, and a littlequotation which committed him to nothing:

  "As, Panem et Circenses was the cry Among the Roman populace of old; So, Pany Toros! is the cry of Spain."

  The Senora smiled appreciatively and put out her hand. "Pan y Toros!"she repeated. "And have you reflected, children, that no other nationin the world cries it. Only Spain and her children! That is becauseonly men of the Spanish race are brave enough to fight bulls, and onlySpanish bulls are brave enough to fight men."

  She was quite pleased with herself for this speech, and finding no oneinclined to dispute the statement, she went on to describe a festivalof bulls she had been present at in the city of Mexico. The subjectdelighted her, and she grew eloquent over it; and, conscious only ofIsabel's shining eyes and enthusiastic interest, she did not notice theair of thoughtfulness which had settled over her husband's face, nor yetAntonia's ill-disguised weariness and anxiety.

  On the night of the Valdez's party her father had said he would talkwith her. Antonia was watching for the confidence, but not with anygreat desire. Her heart and her intelligence told her it would meantrouble, and she had that natural feeling of youth which gladlypostpones the evil day. And while her father was silent she believedthere were still possibilities of escape from it. So she was not sorrythat he again went to his office in the city without any special wordfor her. It was another day stolen from the uncertain future, for thecalm usage of the present, and she was determined to make happiness init.

  When all was still in the afternoon Isabel came to her. She would notput the child to the necessity of again asking her help. She rose atonce, and said:

  "Sit here, Iza, until I have opened the door for us. Then she took arich silk kerchief, blue as the sky, in her hand, and went to the wide,matted hall. There she found Rachela, asleep on a cane lounge. Antoniawoke her.

  "Rachela, I wish to go into the garden for an hour."

  "The Senorita does the thing she wants to, Rachela would not presume tointerfere. The Senorita became an Americano in New York."

  "There are good things in New York, Rachela; for instance, thiskerchief."

  "That is indeed magnificent!"

  "If you permit my sister to walk in the garden with me, I shall give itto you this moment."

  "Dona Isabel is different. She is a Mexicaine. She must be watchedcontinually."

  "For what reason? She is as innocent as an angel."

  "Let her simply grow up, and you will see that she is not innocent asthe angels. Oh, indeed! I could say something about last night! DonaIsabel has no vocation for a nun; but, gracias a Dios! Rachela is notyet blind or deaf."

  "Let the child go with me for an hour, Rachela. The kerchief will be sobecoming to you. There is not another in San Antonio like it."

  Rachela was past forty, but not yet past the age of coquetry. "It willlook gorgeous with my gold ear-rings, but--"

  "I will give you also the blue satin bow like it, to wear at yourbreast."

  "Si, si! I will give the permission, Senorita--for your sake alone. Thekerchief and bow are a little thing to you. To me, they will be a greatadornment. You are not to leave the garden, however, and for one hour'swalk only, Senorita; certainly there is time for no more."

  "I will take care of Isabel; no harm shall come to her. You may keepyour eyes shut for one hour, Rachela, and you may shut your ears also,and put your feet on the couch and let them rest
. I will watch Isabelcarefully, be sure of that."

  "The child is very clever, and she has a lover already, I fear. Keepyour eyes on the myrtle hedge that skirts the road. I have to saythis--it is not for nothing she wants to walk with you this afternoon.She would be better fast asleep."

  In a few moments the kerchief and the bow were safely folded in thecapacious pocket of Rachela's apron, and Isabel and Antonia were softlytreading the shady walk between the myrtle hedges. Rachela's eyes wereapparently fast closed when the girls pased{sic} her, but she did notfail to notice how charmingly Isabel had dressed herself. She wore, itis true, her Spanish costume; but she had red roses at her breast, andher white lace mantilla over her head.

  "Ah! she is a clever little thing!" Rachela muttered. "She knows thatshe is irresistible in her Castilian dress. Bah! those French frocks areenough to drive a man a mile away. I can almost forgive her now. Had sheworn the French frock I would not have forgiven her. I would never haveyielded again, no, not even if the Senorita Antonia should offer me herscarlet Indian shawl worked in gold. I was always a fool--Holy Motherforgive me! Well, then; I used to have my own lovers--plenty ofthem--handsome young arrieros and rancheros: there was Tadeo, a valentoof the first class: and Buffa--and--well, I will sleep; they do notremember me, I dare say; and I have forgotten their names."

  In the mean time the sisters sat down beneath a great fig-tree. Nosunshine, no shower, could penetrate its thick foliage. The wide spacebeneath the spreading branches was a little parlor, cool and sweet,and full of soft, green lights, and the earthy smell of turf, and thewandering scents of the garden.

  Isabel's eyes shone with an incomparable light. She was pale, butexquisitely beautiful, and even her hands and feet expressed the idea ofexpectation. Antonia had a piece of needlework in her hand. She affectedthe calmness she did not feel, for her heart was trembling for thetender little heart beating with so much love and anxiety beside her.

  But Isabel's divination, however arrived at, was not at fault. In afew moments Don Luis lightly leaped the hedge, and without a moment'shesitation sought the shadow of the fig-tree. As he approached, Antonialooked at him with a new interest. It was not only that he loved Isabel,but that Isabel loved him. She had given him sympathy before, now shegave him a sister's affection.

  "How handsome he is!" she thought. "How gallant he looks in his velvetand silver and embroidered jacket! And how eager are his steps! And howjoyful his face! He is the kind of Romeo that Shakespeare dreamed about!Isabel is really an angel to him. He would really die for her. Whathas this Spanish knight of the sixteenth century to do in Texas in thenineteenth century?"

  He answered her mental question in his own charming way. He was sohappy, so radiantly happy, so persuasive, so compelling, that Antoniagranted him, without a word, the favor his eyes asked for. And thelovers hardly heard the excuse she made; they understood nothing of it,only that she would be reading in the myrtle walk for one hour, and, byso doing, would protect them from intrusion.

  One whole hour! Isabel had thought the promise a perfect magnificence ofopportunity{.??} But how swiftly it went. Luis had not told her the halfof his love and his hopes. He had been forced to speak of politics andbusiness, and every such word was just so many stolen from far sweeterwords--words that fell like music from his lips, and were repeated withinfinite power from his eyes. Low words, that had the pleading of athousand voices in them; words full of melody, thrilling with romance;poetical, and yet real as the sunshine around them.

  In lovers of a colder race, bound by conventional ties, and a dressrigorously divested of every picturesque element, such wooing might haveappeared ridiculous; but in Don Luis, the most natural thing aboutit was its extravagance. When he knelt at the feet of his belovedand kissed her hands, the action was the unavoidable outcome of histemperament. When he said to her, "Angel mio! you are the light of mydarkness, the perfume of all flowers that bloom for me, the love of myloves, my life, my youth, my lyre, my star, had I a thousand souls withwhich to love, I would give them all to you!" he believed every word heuttered, and he uttered every word with the passion of a believer.

  He stirred into life also in the heart of Isabel a love as living ashis own. In that hour she stepped outside all of her childhood'simmaturities. She became a woman. She accepted with joyful tears awoman's lot of love and sorrow. She said to Antonia:

  "Luis was in my heart before; now, I have put him in my soul. My soulwill never die. So I shall never forget him--never cease to love him."

  Rachela faithfully kept her agreement. For one hour she was asleep toall her charge did, and Isabel was in her own room when the precioussixty minutes were over. Happy? So happy that her soul seemed to havepushed her body aside, as a thing not to be taken into account. Shesang like a bird for very gladsomeness. It was impossible for her tobe still, and as she went about her room with little dancing, balancingmovements of her hands and feet, Antonia knew that they were keepingtheir happy rhythmic motion to the melody love sang in her heart.

  And she rejoiced with her little sister, though she was not free froma certain regret for her concession, for it is the after-reckoning withconscience that is so disagreeably strict and uncomfortable. And yet,why make an element of anger and suspicion between Isabel and her motherwhen there appeared to be no cause to do so? Don Luis was going away. Hewas in disgrace with his family--almost disinherited; the country was onthe point of war, and its fortunes might give him some opportunities noone now foresaw. But if Isabel's mother had once declared that she would"never sanction the marriage," Antonia knew that, however she mightafterwards regret her haste and prejudice, she would stand passionatelyby her decision. Was it not better, then, to prevent words being saidwhich might cause sorrow and regret in the future?

  But as regarded Isabel's father, no such reason existed. The happinessof his children was to him a more sacred thing than his own prejudices.He liked Don Luis, and his friendship with his mother, the SenoraAlveda, was a long and tried one. The youth's political partialities,though bringing him at present into disgrace, were such as he himselfhad largely helped to form. Antonia was sure that her father wouldsympathize with Isabel, and excuse in her the lapse of duty which hadgiven his little girl so much happiness. Yes, it would be right to tellhim every thing, and she did not fear but Isabel would agree in herdecision.

  At this moment Rachela entered. The Senora wished her daughters tocall upon the American manteau-maker for her, and the ride in the opencarriage to the Plaza would enable them to bow to their acquaintances,and exhibit their last new dresses from New Orleans. Rachela was alreadyprepared for the excursion, and she was not long in attiring Isabel.

  "To be sure, the siesta has made you look charming this afternoon," shesaid, looking steadily into the girl's beaming, blushing face, "and thisrose silk is enchanting. Santa Maria, how I pity the officers who willhave the great fortune to see you this afternoon, and break their heartsfor the sight! But you must not look at them, mark! I shall tell theSenora if you do. It is enough if they look at you. And the American wayof the Senorita Antonia, which is to bow and smile to every admirer,it will but make more enchanting the becoming modesty of the high-bornMexicaine."

  "Keep your tongue still, Rachela. Ah! if you strike me, I will go tomy father. He will not permit it. I am not a child to be struck andscolded, and told when to open and shut my eyes. I shall do as my sisterdoes, and the Holy Mother herself will be satisfied with me!"

  "Chito! Chito!! You wicked one! Oh, Maria Santissima, cast on this childa look of compassion! The American last night has bewitched her! I saidthat he looked like a Jew."

  "I am not wicked, Rachela; and gracias a Dios, there is no Inquisitionnow to put the question!"

  Isabel was in a great passion, or the awful word that had made lipsparch and blanch to utter it for generations would never have beenlaunched at the offending woman's head. But its effect was magical.Rachela put up her hands palm outwards, as if to shield herself froma blow, and then without another word sto
oped down and tied the satinsandals on Isabel's restless feet. She was muttering prayers during thewhole action, for Isabel had been quick to perceive her advantage,and was following it up by a defiant little monologue of rebelliousspeeches.

  In the midst of this scene, Antonia entered. She was dressed for thecarriage, and the carriage stood at the door waiting; but her face wasfull of fear, and she said, hurriedly:

  "Rachela, can you not make some excuse to my mother which will permit usto remain at home? Hark! There is something wrong in the city."

  In a moment the three women were on the balcony, intently, anxiouslylistening. Then they were aware of a strange confusion in the subtle,amber atmosphere. It was as if they heard the noise of battle afaroff; and Rachela, without a word, glided away to the Senora. Isabel andAntonia stood hand in hand, listening to the vague trouble and the echoof harsh, grating voices, mingled with the blare of clarions, the rollof drums, and the rattle of scattering rifle-shots. Yet the noises wereso blended together, so indistinct, so strangely expressive of bothlaughter and defiance, that it was impossible to identify or describethem.

  Suddenly a horseman came at a rapid pace towards the house, and Antonia,leaning over the balcony, saw him deliver a note to Rachela, and thenhurry away at the same reckless speed. The note was from the doctor tohis wife, and it did not tend to allay their anxiety. "Keep within thehouse," it said; "there are difficulties in the city. In an hour or twoI will be at home."

  But it was near midnight when he arrived, and Antonia saw that he wasa different man. He looked younger. His blue eyes shone with thelight behind them. On his face there was the impress of an invincibledetermination. His very walk had lost its listless, gliding tread, andhis steps were firm, alert and rapid.

  No one had been able to go to bed until he arrived, though Isabel sleptrestlessly in her father's chair, and the Senora lay upon the couch,drowsing a little between her frequent attacks of weeping and angryanticipation. For she was sure it was the Americans. "Anything waspossible with such a man as Sam Houston near the city."

  "Perhaps it is Santa Anna," at length suggested Antonia. "He has beenmaking trouble ever since I can remember. He was born with a sword inhis hand, I think."

  "Ca! And every American with a rifle in his hand! Santa Anna is amonster, but at least he fights for his own country. Texas is not thecountry of the Americans."

  "But, indeed, they believe that Texas is their country"; and to thesewords Doctor Worth entered.

  "What is the matter? What is the matter, Roberto? I have been made sickwith these uncertainties. Why did you not come home at the Angelus?"

  "I have had a good reason for my delay, Maria. About three o'clock Ireceived a message from the Senora Alveda, and I visited her. She isin great trouble, and she had not been able to bear it with her usualfortitude. She bad fainted."

  "Ah, the poor mother! She has a son who will break her heart."

  "She made no complaint of Luis. She is distracted about her country, andas I came home I understood why. For she is a very shrewd woman, and sheperceives that Santa Anna is preparing trouble enough for it."

  "Well, then, what is it?"

  "When I left her house, I noticed many Americans, as well as manyMexicans, on the streets. They were standing together, too; and therewas something in their faces, and in the way their arms were carried,which was very striking and portentous. I fancied they looked coldlyon me, and I was troubled by the circumstance. In the Plaza I saw themilitary band approaching, accompanied by half a dozen officers and afew soldiers. The noise stopped suddenly, and Captain Morello proclaimedas a bando (edict) of the highest authority, an order for all Americansto surrender their arms of every description to the officials and at theplaces notified."

  "Very good!"

  "Maria, nothing could be worse! Nothing could be more shameful anddisastrous. The Americans had evidently been expecting this uselessbombast, and ere the words were well uttered, they answered them witha yell of defiance. I do not think more than one proclamation wasnecessary, but Morello went from point to point in the city and theAmericans followed him. I can tell you this, Maria: all the millionsin Mexico can not take their rifles from the ten thousand Americans inTexas, able to carry them."

  "We shall see! We shall see! But, Roberto, you at least will notinterfere in their quarrels. You have never done so hitherto."

  "No one has ever proposed to disarm me before, Maria. I tell youfrankly, I will not give up a single rifle, or revolver, or weapon ofany kind, that I possess. I would rather be slain with them. I havenever carried arms before, but I shall carry them now. I apologize to mycountrymen for not having them with me this afternoon. My dearest wife!My good Maria! do not cry in that despairing way."

  "You will be killed, Roberto! You will be a rebel! You will be shot likea dog, and then what will become of me and my daughters?"

  "You have two sons, Maria. They will avenge their father, and protecttheir mother and sisters."

  "I shall die of shame! I shall die of shame and sorrow!"

  "Not of shame, Maria. If I permitted these men to deprive me of my arms,you might well die of shame."

  "What is it? Only a gun, or a pistol, that you never use?"

  "Great God, Maria! It is everything! It is honor! It is liberty! It isrespect to myself! It is loyalty to my country! It is fidelity tomy countrymen! It is true that for many years the garrison has fullyprotected us, and I have not needed to use the arms in my house. Butthousands of husbands and fathers need them hourly, to procure food fortheir children and wives, and to protect them from the savages. Onetie binds us. Their cause is my cause. Their country is my country, andtheir God is my God. Children, am I right or wrong?"

  They both stepped swiftly to his side. Isabel laid her cheek againsthis, and answered him with a kiss. Antonia clasped his hand, stood closeto him, and said: "We are all sure that you are right, dear father. Mymother is weary and sick with anxiety, but she thinks so too. Motheralways thinks as you do, father. Dear mother, here is Rachela with a cupof chocolate, and you will sleep and grow strong before morning."

  But the Senora, though she suffered her daughter's caresses, did notanswer them, neither did she speak to her husband, though he opened thedoor for her and stood waiting with a face full of anxious love for aword or a smile from her. And the miserable wife, still more miserablethan her husband, noticed that Isabel did not follow her. Never beforehad Isabel seemed to prefer any society to her mother's, and the unhappySenora felt the defection, even amid her graver trouble.

  But Isabel had seen something new in her father that night; somethingthat touched her awakening soul with admiration. She lingered with himand Antonia, listening with vague comprehension to their conversation,until Rachela called her angrily; and as she was not brave enough for asecond rebellion that night, she obediently answered her summons.

  An hour afterwards, Antonia stepped cautiously within her room. She wassleeping, and smiling in her sleep. Where was her loving, innocent soulwandering? Between the myrtle hedges and under the fig-tree with herlover? Oh, who can tell where the soul goes when sleep gives it somerelease? Perhaps it is at night our angels need to watch us mostcarefully. For the soul, in dreams, can visit evil and sorrowful places,as well as happy and holy ones. But Isabel slept and smiled, and Antoniawhispered a prayer at her side ere she went to her own rest.

  And the waning moon cast a pathetic beauty over the Eden-like land, tilldawn brought that mystical silence in which every new day is born. ThenRobert Worth rose from the chair in which he had been sitting so long,remembering the past and forecasting the future. He walked to thewindow, opened it, and looked towards the mountains. They had anethereal hue, a light without rays, a clearness almost polar in itsseverity. But in some way their appearance infused into his soulcalmness and strength.

  "Liberty has always been bought with life, and the glory of the greatestnations handseled with the blood of their founders." This was thethought in his heart, as looking far off to the horizon, he
askedhopefully:

  "What then, O God, shall this good land produce That Thou art watering it so carefully?"