CHAPTER VI.
DELILAH.
The position of our two characters toward each other was somewhatsingular. Both appeared to be watching each other, and trying todiscover the flaw in the armour; but in this struggle of a man against awoman, the latter must inevitably prove the conqueror.
Don Cornelio had possibly a rather exaggerated opinion of himself. Thiswas what ruined him, and delivered him bound hand and foot over to hisdangerous adversary.
Dona Angela, resting coquettishly on her elbow, with her chin on thepalm of her dainty hand, fixed on him two eyes sparkling withmaliciousness, so that the Spaniard, as it were, fascinated by thebrilliancy of this irresistible glance, had not even the will to turnhis head, and liberate himself from the deceptive charm that fascinatedhim.
"Violanta," the girl said, in a voice soft and pure as the song of the_centzontle_, the American nightingale, "have you no refreshments tooffer this caballero?"
"Oh, certainly," said the crafty camarista, with a look sufficient totempt St. Anthony; and she rose quickly to obey her mistress'sdirections.
Don Cornelio, flattered in his heart by this politeness, which he wasfar from expecting, thought it necessary to break out in excuses; butDona Angela cut him short by herself saying,--
"You will forgive me, caballero, for receiving you so poorly, but I didnot expect to have the honour of your visit in this wretched pueblo."
Naturally enough, Don Cornelio, infatuated with the advantages hefancied he possessed, regarded this remark as a compliment.
Angela maliciously bit her rosy lips, and continued, with a bow,--
"But now that I have been so fortunate as to meet again with an oldfriend, for I hope you will permit me to give you that appellation----"
"Oh, senorita!" the young man said with a movement of joy.
"I flatter myself that I shall have the pleasure of enjoying yourcompany more frequently."
"Senorita, believe me that I shall be too happy."
"I know your gallantry, Don Cornelio," she interrupted him with a smile."I am aware that you will seize every opportunity to offer me yourhomage."
"Heaven is my witness, senorita. Unfortunately, adverse fate willpossibly ordain differently."
"Why so?"
"You are only passing through this wretched town."
"Yes. My father is proceeding to Tepic, where his new position asgovernor of the province demands his residence."
"That is true. You see, then, madam, that it is almost impossible for usever to meet again."
"Do you think so?" she asked.
"Alas! I am atrociously afraid of it."
"Why so?" she said, bending her body forward in curiosity.
"Because, according to every probability, tomorrow, at sunrise, we shalltake diametrically opposite routes, senorita."
"Oh, that is not possible!"
"Unfortunately it is too true."
"Explain this enigma to me."
"I would it were one; but a child can read it."
"I do not at all understand you?"
"I will explain myself more clearly."
"Go on."
"When you and your father, madam, start tomorrow for Tepic, my friendsand myself will set out for San Francisco."
"San Francisco!"
"Alas! Yes."
"What need have you to go there?"
"I! None."
"Well, then?"
Don Cornelio behaved like most men when in a state of embarrassment;that is to say, he scratched his head. At length he said,--
"I cannot leave my friends."
"What friends?"
"Those in whose company I am."
"Then they want to go to San Francisco?"
"Yes."
"What to do?"
"Ah! That is it," the Spaniard replied, more and more embarrassed by theobligation of confessing the trade in which he was engaged, and which hefancied must lower him to an extraordinary degree in the eyes of theyoung lady whose heart he fancied he had touched.
"I am waiting," she said with a slight frown of her arched brows.
Don Cornelio, driven into his last retrenchments, determined to make aclean breast of it.
"You must know," he said in a honeyed voice, "that my friends arehunters."
"Ah!" she remarked.
"Yes."
"Well, what then?"
"Why, then, why, they hunt, I suppose," he continued, discountenanced bythe lady's singular tone.
"That is probable," she said, with a little silvery laugh. "And what dothey hunt?"
"Well, pretty nearly all sorts of animals."
"Specify."
"Wild bulls, for instance."
"Very good; we will say, then, that they hunt wild bulls?"
"Yes."
"Why those animals more than others?"
"I will tell you."
"I shall feel delighted."
Don Cornelio bowed.
"You must know that at San Francisco--"
"San Francisco again?"
"Alas! Yes."
"Very good: proceed."
"Oxen, bullocks, and generally all animals that serve for food, areextremely dear."
"Ah!"
"O dear, yes! You understand that people in that country pay greatattention to finding gold, and very little to seeking food."
"Quite correct."
"So my friend reasoned thus."
"Which friend?"
"The hunter, Don Louis."
"Don Louis?"
"Yes, the man who three years back, when the bandits attacked you,arrived so opportunely, and whom I have never quitted since."
Dona Angela experienced such a startling emotion that her face suddenlyturned pale. Don Cornelio, busied with his story, did not perceive theeffect the accidental mention of that name produced, but continued,--
"'Very good, then,' he said to himself. 'Bulls obtain fabulous prices inCalifornia; in Mexico they may be had for almost nothing. Let us go andbuy or lasso them in Mexico.'"
"So then?"
"Well, we set out."
"You were in California at that time?"
"At San Francisco, with Don Louis."
"And now?"
"We have a magnificent herd of novillos, which we have driven a longdistance, and which we hope to dispose of at a large profit at SanFrancisco."
"I hope so."
"Thank you, madam; the more so as we had an enormous difficulty inprocuring them."
"But all that does not teach me why you cannot separate from yourfriends."
"At any rate not until we have sold the bullocks. You understand,senorita, that acting otherwise would be ungentlemanly."
"That is true; but why insist on selling your bulls nowhere save at SanFrancisco?"
"We do not at all insist on that."
"Then, supposing you found a good price here, you would dispose ofthem?"
"I see nothing to prevent it."
Dona Angela gave a start of joy, which Don Cornelio naturallyinterpreted to his own advantage.
"That might be arranged," she said.
"You think so?"
"Yes, if you are not too craving."
"You need not apprehend that, senorita."
"My father possesses a hacienda a few leagues from this town. I knowthat he intends to re-form his _ganado_, and he stopped here today inorder to have an interview with his _mayordomo_."
"Oh! That is a providential chance."
"Is it not?"
"It is really. Has the mayordomo arrived?"
"Not yet: we do not expect him till tomorrow. I fancy that a day's delaywill do you no injury."
"Not the slightest."
"Well, then, if you consent, we will settle this affair while we aretogether; that is to say," she added, "you will tell me the prices, thatI may inform my father."
"Ah!" he said, with a certain hesitation, "I can, unfortunately, saynothing on that head."
"Why so? Are you not the owner of the herd?"
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"Pardon me."
"Well, what then?" she interrupted, looking at him with fixed attention.
"That is to say, I am not sole owner."
"You have partners?"
"Yes, I have one."
"And that partner----?"
"Stay, madam, I prefer being frank with you, and telling you clearly howmatters stand."
"I am listening, caballero."
"I am owner without being so."
"I do not understand you at all."
"It is very simple, however, as you will see."
"I am all anxiety."
"Just imagine that Don Louis, after curing me of my wounds, felt thatloyal and open friendship for me which has no counterpart in town life.Not only would he not consent to my leaving him, but aware that, owingto reverses too long to repeat to you, I was almost penniless, heinsisted on my becoming a sharer in all the enterprises he thoughtproper to undertake; so that, without the outlay of a penny, I hold onehalf the property. Hence, as you will see, I can do nothing until I havefirst taken his instructions."
"That is only just, it seems to me."
"And to me too, madam; and that is the reason why, in spite of thelively desire I entertain to settle the business with you at once, Ifind it impossible to do so."
Dona Angela seemed to reflect for a moment, then went on with apalpitation of the heart and a tremor in her voice, which she could notconceal, in spite of all her efforts:--
"After all, the matter is perfectly simple, and may be arranged veryeasily."
"I ask nothing better; still I confess, to my shame, that I do not seewhat means I should employ."
"It is a trifle, tomorrow, before the mayordomo's arrival, I will speakwith my father: he will, I doubt not, be delighted to render a serviceto the man who saved our lives. You will tell your friend, he will cometo an arrangement with my father, and all will be settled."
"Indeed, madam, I did not think of that. All can be arranged in thatway."
"Unless your friend--Don Louis, I think you called him----?"
"Yes, madam, Don Louis. He is a gentleman belonging to one of thenoblest and oldest families in France."
"Ah! All the better. Unless, I say, he should not consent to deal withmy father."
"And why should he not, senorita?"
"Oh! I do not know; but on our first meeting, after saving my father'slife and mine, that caballero behaved so singularly toward us that Ifear----"
"You are wrong, madam, to suppose that Don Louis could refuse an offerso advantageous as that you make him; besides, I will talk with him, andam certain to bring him over to my views."
"O dear me!" she said negligently, "I have but a very slight interest inall this. I should not like the proposal to cause you the slightestannoyance with your partner. I am only looking after your interests inthe affair, Don Cornelio."
"I am convinced of it, madam, and thank you humbly," he replied, with alow bow.
"I only know you. Your partner, though he rendered me a great service,is but a stranger to me, especially after the peremptory manner in whichhe declined my father's advances and offers of service."
"You are perfectly right, senorita. Believe me that I attach full valueto the delicacy of your conduct."
"Still," she continued, in an insinuating and slightly malicious voice,"I confess to you that I should not be sorry to find myself once moreface to face with that strange man, were it only to convince myself thatthe opinion I formed of him was wrong."
"Don Louis, madam," the Spaniard answered complacently, "is a truecaballero, kind, noble, and generous, ever ready to help with purse orsword those who claim his assistance. Since I have had the honour ofliving in his society I have had many opportunities of appreciating thegreatness of his character."
"I am happy to hear what you tell me, senor, for I confess that thiscaballero left a very bad impression on me, doubtlessly through therough manner in which he parted from us."
"That bad impression was unjust, madam. As for the roughness with whichyou reproach him alas! It is only melancholy."
"What!" she exclaimed quickly, while a rosy tinge suddenly invaded herforehead, "melancholy, do you say? Is the gentleman unhappy?"
"Who is not so?" Don Cornelio asked with a sigh.
"Perhaps, though, you are mistaken."
"Alas! No, madam. Don Louis has been the victim of frightful disasters:judge for yourself. He had a wife he adored, who had presented him withseveral charming children. One night the Indians surprised his hacienda,fired it, massacred his wife, his children, his whole family, in a word,and himself only escaped by a miracle."
"Oh, that is horrible!" she exclaimed, as she buried her face in herhands. "Poor man! Now I heartily pardon what appeared singularity in hismanners. Alas! The society of his fellow men must weigh upon him."
"Yes, madam, it doubtlessly does so; for the grief he endures is of thatnature which cannot be consoled. And yet, when he knows of a misfortuneto alleviate, or any good deed to do, he forgets himself only to thinkof those he wishes to aid."
"Yes, you are right, caballero; that man has a noble heart."
"Alas, madam! I should ever remain below the truth in what I might tellyou of him. You must live his life, be constantly by his side, in orderto understand and appreciate him at his full value."
There were a few moments of silence. The night was drawing on; thecandles were beginning to dim; the camarista, who had but a very slightinterest in this conversation, had laid her head against the back of herbutaca; her eyes were closed, and she was enjoying that catlike sleeppeculiar to women and the feline race, and which does not prevent thembeing constantly on the watch.
"Tell me, Don Cornelio," Dona Angela continued with a smile, "have younever spoken with Don Louis about our meeting during the long periodthat has since elapsed?"
"Never, madam."
"Ah!"
"Once, and only once, I remember that I tried to bring the conversationround to that subject by some rather direct allusions."
"Well?"
"Don Louis, who, till then, had seemed to listen kindly to myobservations, suddenly requested me, in very distinct language, never toreturn to that subject, remarking that he had only acted in accordancewith his duty; that he would do the same again; and that it was notworth while talking about, the less so as chance would, in allprobability, never again bring him into contact with the persons to whomhe had been so fortunate as to render this slight service."
The young lady frowned.
"I thank you," she said in a slightly affected voice, "I thank you, DonCornelio, for the kindness with which you have treated the whims of awoman you did not know."
"Oh, madam!" he exclaimed in protest; "for a long time I have been yourmost humble slave."
"I know your gallantry, but will not abuse it longer. Be assured that Ishall keep our long conversation in pleasant memory. Be kind enough notto forget the proposals I wish to make to Don Louis."
"Tomorrow, madam, at the hour you think most suitable, my friend andmyself will have the honour to present ourselves to the general."
"Do not derange yourselves, caballero; a criado will warn you when myfather is ready to receive you. Farewell!"
"Farewell!" he replied, bowing respectfully to the young lady, whodismissed him with a gracious smile.
The Spaniard went out with joy in his heart.
"Oh!" Dona Angela murmured, so soon as she was alone, "I love him!"
Whom was she speaking of?