CHAPTER XXV
About eight o'clock next morning I bade the Peraltas goodbye, andset out 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 Paquita well dressed, ona splendid horse, and with dollars enough in my pocket to take uscomfortably out of the country. Santos rode out with me, ostensibly toput me on the right road to Montevideo; only I knew, of course, that hewas the bearer of an important communication from Demetria. When we hadridden about half a league without any approach to the subject on hispart, in spite of sundry hints I threw out, I asked him plainly if hehad 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 spoken inhalf a dozen words? I have not come all this distance merely to say thatthe moon came in dry, or that yesterday, being Friday, Dona Demetriatasted no meat. It is a long story, senor."
"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 could dothat?"
"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, senor; our brain is the caskout 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 flow outby 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: Dona 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 reined upmy horse, jumped off, and sat down on the grass without another word.He followed my example, and, after seating himself in a comfortableposition, deliberately drew out his tobacco-pouch and began making acigarette. I could not quarrel with him for this further delay, forwithout the soothing, stimulating cigarette an Oriental finds itdifficult to collect his thoughts. Leaving him to carry out hisinstructions in his own laborious fashion, I vented my irritation on thegrass, 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 Oriental 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 Oriental 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 him andgiving as little heed to my interruption as a hunter riding at a stifffence would pay to a remark about the weather. "When a man cannot get aknife, he breaks in two an old pair of sheep-shears, and with one of theblades makes himself an implement which has to serve him for a knife.This is how it is with Dona Demetria; she has no one but her poor Santosto speak for her. If she had asked me to expose my life in her service,that I could easily have done; but to speak for her to a man who canread the almanac and knows the names of all the stars in the sky, thatkills me, senor. And who knows this better than my mistress, who hasbeen intimate with me from her infancy, when I often carried her in myarms? I can only say this, senor; when I speak, remember my poverty andthat my mistress has no instrument except my poor tongue to convey herwishes. Words has she told me to say to you, but my devil of a memoryhas lost them all. What am I to do in this case? If I wished to buymy neighbour's horse, and went to him and said, 'Sell me your horse,neighbour, for I have fallen in love with it and my heart is sick withdesire, so that I must have it at any price,' would that not be madness,senor? Yet I must be like that imprudent person. I come to you forsomething, and all her expressions, which were like rare flowers culledfrom a garden, have been lost by the way. Therefore I can only say thisthing which my mistress desires, putting it in my own brute words, whichare like wild flowers I have myself gathered on the plain, that haveneither fragrance nor beauty to recommend them."
This quaint exordium did not advance matters much, but it had the effectof rousing my attention and convincing me that the message entrusted toSantos was one of very grave import. He had finished his first cigaretteand now began slowly making himself a second one; but I waited patientlyfor him to speak, my irritation had quite vanished, those "wild flowers"of his were not without beauty, and his love and devotion for hisunhappy mistress made them smell very sweet.
Presently he resumed: "Senor, you have told my mistress that you are apoor man; that you look upon this country life as a free and happy one;that above all things you would like to possess an _estancia_ where youcould breed cattle and race-horses and hunt ostriches. All this she hasrevolved in her mind, and because it is in her power to offer you thethings you desire does she now ask you to aid her in her trouble. Andnow, senor, let me tell you this. The Peralta property extends all theway to the Rocha waters; five leagues of land, and there is none betterin this department. It was formerly well stocked. There were thousandsof cattle and mares; for my master's party then ruled in the country;the Colorados were shut up in Montevideo, and that cut-throat FrutosRivera never came into this part. Of the cattle only a remnant remains,but the land is a fortune for any man, and, when my old master dies,Dona Demetria inherits all. Even now it is hers, since her father haslost his calabash, as you have seen. Now let me tell you what happenedmany years ago. Don Hilario was at first a peon--a poor boy the Colonelbefriended. When he grew up he was made _capatas,_ then _mayordomo._Don Calixto was killed and the Colonel lost his reason, then Don Hilariomade himself all-powerful, doing what he liked with his master, andsetting Dona Demetria's authority aside. Did he protect the interests ofthe _estancia?_ On the contrary, he was one with our enemies, and whenthey came like dogs for our cattle and horses he was behind them. Thishe did to make friends of the reigning party, when the Blancos had losteverything. Now he wishes to marry Dona Demetria to make himself ownerof the land. Don Calixto is dead, and who is there to bell the cat? Evennow he acts like the only owner; he buys and sells and the money is his.My mistress is scarcely allowed clothes to wear; she has no horse toride on 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 intention tomake her escape he would murder her. He has sworn to her that unless shemarries him he will kill her. Is not this sad? Senor, she asks you todeliver her from this man. Her words I have forgotten, but imagine thatyou see her before you a suppliant on her knees,
and that you know whatthe thing is she asks, and see her lips move, though you do not hear herwords."
"Tell me how I can deliver her?" I said, feeling very much moved at whatI had heard.
"How! By carrying her off forcibly--do you understand? Is it not in yourpower to return in a few days' time with two or three friends to do thisthing? You must come disguised and armed. If I am in the way I will dowhat I can to protect her, but you will easily knock me down and stunme--do you understand? Don Hilario must not know that we are in theplot. From him fear nothing, for, though he is brave enough to threatena woman with death, before armed men he is like a dog that hearsthunder. You can then take her to Montevideo and conceal her there. Therest will be easy. Don Hilario will fail to find her; Ramona and I willtake care of the Colonel, and when his daughter is out of his sightperhaps he will forget her. Then, senor, there will be no trouble aboutthe property; for who can resist a legal claim?"
"I do not understand you, Santos," said I. "If Demetria wishes me to dowhat you say, and there is no other way to save her from Don Hilario'spersecutions, I will do it. I will do anything to serve her, and I haveno fear of that dog Hilario. But when I have placed her in concealment,who in Montevideo, where she is without a friend, will take up her causeand see that she is not defrauded of her rights? I can 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 say thisto me? Does she think that only by marrying her I can deliver her fromthis robber and save her property?"
"There is, of course, no other way," said he. "If it could be doneby other means, would she not have spoken last night and explainedeverything to you? Consider, senor, 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 you wish. AndI ask you this, senor, 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 thinking thatI had conceived an affection for her, had been driven in her despair tomake this proposal. Poor Demetria, was there to be no deliverance forher after all!
"Friend," said Santos, dropping the ceremonious senor in his anxiety toserve his mistress, "never speak without first considering all things.There is no woman like her. If you do not love her now you will love herwhen you know her better; no good man could help feeling affection forher. You saw her last evening in a green silk dress, also wearing atortoise-shell comb and gold ornaments--was she not elegant, senor? Didshe not then appear to your eyes a woman suitable for a wife? You havebeen everywhere, and have seen many women, and perhaps in some distantplace you have met one more beautiful than my mistress. But consider thelife she has led! Grief has made her pale and thin, staining her facewith purple under the eyes. Can laughter and song come out of a heartwhere fear is? Another life would change all; she would be a floweramongst women."
Poor old simple-minded Santos, he had done himself great injustice; hislove for his mistress had inspired him with an eloquence that went tomy 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 was tobestow her hand along with a large property on a penniless adventurer.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 thevery last moment, only making her offer when she had despaired of itscoming from me. This explained the reception of the previous evening;the ancient, splendid attire which she had worn to win favour in mysight; the shy, wistful expression of her eyes, the hesitation she couldnot overcome. When I had recovered from the first shock of surprise Icould only feel the greatest respect and compassion for her, bitterlyregretting that I had not told her all my past history, so that shemight have been spared the shame and grief she would now be compelledto endure. These sad thoughts passed through my mind while Santosexpatiated on the advantages of the proposed alliance until I stoppedhim.
"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 took theportrait into his hand; and while he gazed admiringly at it I ponderedover what I had heard. I could not now think of leaving this poor woman,who had offered herself with all her inheritance to me, without someattempt to rescue her from her sad position. She had given me a refugewhen I was in trouble and danger, and the appeal she had just made tome, accompanied by so convincing a proof of her trust and affection,would have gone to the heart of the most cold-blooded man in existence,to make him, in spite of his nature, her devoted champion.
At length Santos handed back the miniature, with a sigh. "Such a face asthat my eyes have never seen," he remarked. "There is nothing more to besaid."
"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 has set,to meet me under the trees behind the house. I shall be there waitingwith a horse for her, and will take her away to some safe place ofconcealment where Don Hilario will never find her. When she is once outof his power it will be time enough to think of some way to turn him outof the _estancia_ and to arrange matters. See that she does not fail tomeet me, and let her take a few clothes and some money, if she has any;also her jewels, for it would not be safe to leave them in the housewith 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, senor, how will you get a horse andside-saddle for Dona 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 way Icould.