CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE.
THE INVALID.
On perceiving the approach of the domestico, Don Mariano silently closedthe curtains of the _litera_, in order that the slumbers of Gertrudismight not be disturbed.
"Speak softly!" said he to the man, "my daughter is asleep."
The domestic delivered his report in an undertone.
"I have been almost as far as the hacienda of San Carlos," said he."The road to the house is clear; and I should have gone up to it, butfor the strange sights which I saw there."
"Strange sight! what sights, Castrillo?"
"Oh, master! I can hardly tell you what I saw--at least I cannotexplain it. The windows were all lit up, but with such lights! Theywere blue and red, and of a purple colour, and they appeared to bechanging every instant, and moving about in the most mysterious manner.While I stood looking at them, and trying to think what it could mean, Isaw a figure in white gliding past me in the darkness, like some one notof this world."
"My worthy Castrillo, fear was troubling your senses, I am afraid youonly fancied these things?"
"Oh, my master! what I saw was but too real. If you had seen theselights as I, you could not have doubted it. May it please God that Imay have been deceived!"
The tone of conviction in which the servant delivered his reportproduced its effect on Don Mariano; and he could not help feeling theunpleasant presentiment that some grand misfortune had happened to hisdaughter, Marianita, or her husband.
The information brought by Castrillo was only the reawakening of a doubtthat had been already oppressing him.
A prey to afflicting thoughts, he remained for a while in that state ofsilent uncertainty which follows the receipt of calamitous news. Theservant having finished his report had joined his three companions, andDon Mariano was alone.
Just then the curtains of the _litera_ were drawn inside by a hand fromwithin, and the voice of Gertrudis interrupted for the moment his gloomyreflections.
"My sleep has refreshed me," said the young girl; "do you intend soon tocontinue your journey, father? It is near daybreak, is it not?"
"It is not yet midnight, nina. It will be long before the day breaks."
"Then why do you not go to sleep, dear father? We are in safety here, Ithink; and there is no reason why you should keep awake."
"Dear Gertrudis, I do not desire to sleep until we are under the roof ofMarianita, and I can see you both together."
"Ah! Marianita is so very happy," sighed the invalid. "Her life hasbeen like one of the flowery paths we have been following through theforest."
"And so will yours be yet, Gertrudis," rejoined Don Mariano, with aneffort to console her. "It will not be long before Don Rafael comes tosee you."
"Oh, yes! I know he will come, since he has sworn it upon his word ofhonour. He will come, but what then?" murmured Gertrudis, with amelancholy smile.
"He will arrive to tell you that he still loves you," said Don Mariano,affecting a conviction which, in reality, he did not feel. "It is onlya misunderstanding," he added.
"A misunderstanding that causes death, dear father," rejoined Gertrudis,as she turned her head upon the pillow to conceal her tears.
Don Mariano was unable to reply, and an interval of silence succeeded.
Then Gertrudis, by one of those sudden reactions common to invalids,seemed all at once inspired with a fresh hope, and raising her head, sheinquired--
"Do you think the messenger has had time to reach Don Rafael?"
"He would be three days in getting from Oajaca to the hacienda DelValle; and if Don Rafael, as we have since heard, is at Huajapam, in twodays more the messenger should reach him. He has been gone four days;therefore, in four more, at the most, Don Rafael should arrive at SanCarlos, where he will know we are awaiting him."
"Four days!" murmured Gertrudis. "Oh! it is a long, long time!"
Gertrudis did not dare to add, what she feared at the moment, that herlife might not last so long.
After a moment of silence she continued--
"And besides, when, with a blush upon my cheeks, and my eyes turnedaway, I hear Don Rafael say to me, `You have sent for me, Gertrudis, Ihave come,' what answer can I make? Oh, father! I shall die of griefand shame; for I shall then feel that he no longer loves me. He willsee me as I am--a ruin--only the shadow of my former self, with myhealth gone, and my freshness faded. Likely enough, generosity willprompt him to feign a love which he does not feel, and which I could notbelieve in. What proof could he give that his words would only bespoken out of compassion for me?"
"Who can tell?" said Don Mariano. "Perhaps he may give you some proofthat you cannot help believing in his sincerity."
"Do not wish it, father, if you love me; for if he should offer a proofI cannot refuse to believe in, I feel that I should die of joy. Poorfather!" continued she, with a choking sigh, and throwing her arms roundhis neck, "in either case you are likely soon to have but one daughter."
At this mournful declaration Don Mariano could no longer restrain hisgrief; and returning the embrace of Gertrudis, he mingled his tears withhers. Both wept aloud, their voices being audible to the _centzontle_,on a neighbouring tree--that catching up the mournful tones repeatedthem to the ear of night.
Just then the moon shot out from behind a thick mass of clouds, that hadhitherto been shrouding her from the sight; and the landscape,illuminated by her silvery light, all at once assumed a less lugubriousaspect.
The lake, as well as the forest on its shores, appeared less sombre; andthe corrugated flanks of the enchanted hill glanced with a vitreousreflection like the greenish waves of an agitated sea. Upon the surfaceof the water could be seen the dark, hideous forms of huge alligatorsmoving along the edge of the reeds, and now and then giving utterance totheir deep bellowing notes, as they disported themselves under the lightof the moon.
The domestics of Don Mariano, seated close together, more than oncefancied that they could distinguish the voices of human beings, and allshivered with fear as they recalled the legend which Zefirino had justrelated.
"I wish, comrades," said one of them, speaking in a tone of subduedterror, "I wish that this night was well over. From the noises we haveheard, and those strange lights that Castrillo has seen, one might fancysome terrible misfortune was to happen to-night! It only wants thescream of an owl from one of the trees around here, and then we may prayfor the soul of our poor young mistress."
At that moment a voice--this time certainly a human voice--proceedingfrom the direction of the lake, interrupted the speaker. It seemed toarise out of the bosom of the water.
The four domestics started, and sat regarding each other with looks ofaffright. There could be no doubt of its being a human voice which theyhad heard, as if intoning a song or chaunt, but uttered in some unknowntongue--such as that in which the ancient Indians used to converse withtheir divinities.
"Santissima madre!" muttered one of the domestics, "what if it should bethe Indian who searches for his heart?"
His companions made no other answer than by nodding their heads tosignify that such had been the thought of each.
At this moment another noise reached them. It was a rustling as ofleaves, and almost simultaneously they saw the figure of a man makinghis way through the reeds that grew by the edge of the water.
In the clear light of the moon they could see that the man wascompletely naked, and that his skin was of a bronze or copper colour--inother words, that he was an Indian.
As he passed through the reeds he parted their stems with hisoutstretched arms--at the same time keeping his eyes bent downwards asif searching for something.
After reaching the edge of the open water, he plunged in; and, swimmingvigorously out into the lake, appeared to direct himself towards theenchanted hill.
"God of heaven!" muttered Zefirino, in an accent of terror. "It is theIndian searching for his heart!"