CHAPTER XXXIII.
ON THE WATCH.
What she heard, but still more what she saw, necessarily powerfullyinterested Dona Rosario. In a vast room, dimly lighted by one of thoseyellow candles which the Chilians call _velas de cebo_, fastened tothe wall by means of a ring, a woman, still young, and very handsome,attired in a riding dress of great richness, was seated on an ebonychair, covered with Cordova leather. With her right hand she playedwith a gold headed whip, and was speaking in an animated tone to a manwho stood respectfully before her, hat in hand. This man, as well asDona Rosario could make out, was the same who had carried her into the_cuarto_. The woman, whom Dona Rosario did not recollect ever to haveseen, was no other than Dona Maria, the shameless courtesan, who, underthe name of the Linda, enjoyed such a scandalous celebrity.
Dona Maria's position threw the light of the candle full upon her face,and gave Dona Rosario an opportunity of distinguishing her features.She contemplated them with deep interest, for she felt instinctivelythat this woman was the enemy who, from her birth, had fatally followedher steps. She imagined that a decisive conference between her andthe unknown was about to take place, and that in a few minutes herfate would be made known to her. And yet, at the aspect of this woman,whose bent brows, clear and haughty look, coldly compressed lips,and cruel words, revealed with the hatred which devoured her, it wasneither a feeling of terror, nor a feeling of hatred, that the younggirl experienced. Without knowing why, a sadness and an undefined pityfor the very woman who was giving orders that made her shudder, tookpossession of her. She listened breathlessly, fascinated, scarcelyknowing whether what she heard was really true, and fancying herself attimes under the influence of some terrible hallucination.
The two speakers, who knew not that they were either watched oroverheard, resumed their conversation in an unrestrained voice. DonaRosario, we may well suppose, did not lose a single word.
"How is it," said the Linda, "that Joan has not come? I expected him."
The man thus questioned cast a sharp look around him, and rolling upthe broad brim of his hat in his fingers, replied with ill-dissembledembarrassment--
"Joan sent me in his place."
"And by what right," said the Linda, in a haughty tone, "does the fellowpresume to confide to others the care of accomplishing the orders I givehim?"
"Joan is my friend," the man replied.
"What are the ties that unite you to me:" she asked, contemptuously.
"The mission you charged him with is accomplished."
"Ay--but faithfully?"
"The woman is there," he said, pointing to the room in which DonaRosario was; "during the journey she has spoken to nobody, and I canguarantee that she does not know to what place she has been brought."
At this assurance the look of Dona Maria softened a little, and it wasin a less sharp and haughty tone she continued--
"But why did Joan give up his place to you?"
"Oh!" the man said with a feigned bluntness, belied by his cunning eye,"for a very simple reason; Joan is at this moment attracted towards theplain by the black eyes of the wife of a paleface, which sparkle likefireflies in the night. The woman's toldo is built in the country, nearthe tolderia which you call, I think, Concepcion. Although such conductbe unworthy of a warrior, his heart is flying constantly towards thiswoman, in spite of himself, and until he gain possession of her, he willnever be in his senses."
"Well, then," the Linda interrupted, stamping her foot with vexation,"why does not the fool carry her off?"
"I proposed that to him."
"And what did he say?"
"He refused."
Dona Maria shrugged her shoulders with a smile of disdain. "Still," sheremarked, "all that does not tell me who you are."
"I! I am an Ulmen in my tribe; a great warrior among the Puelches," hereplied, proudly.
"Ah!" she said, with an air of satisfaction, "you are an Ulmen of thePuelches, are you? Good! then I can depend upon your fidelity."
"I am the friend of Joan," he remarked simply, with a respectful bow.
"Do you know the woman whom you have brought here?" the Linda asked,darting at him a mistrustful glance.
"How should I know her?"
"Are you ready to obey me in everything?"
"My obedience will depend on my sister; let her speak, and I willanswer."
"This woman is my enemy," said the Linda.
"Must she die?" he asked, roughly, without lowering his eyes before thesearching glances of the Linda.
"Oh, no!" she cried eagerly; "these Indians are brutes--they understandnothing of vengeance! What use would her death be to me? It is her lifeI want."
"Let my sister explain; I do not comprehend."
"Death! that is nothing but a few instants of suffering, then all isover."
"White death may be so, but an Indian death must be called for manyhours before it answers."
"I wish her to live, I tell you!"
"She shall live. Ah!" he added, with a sigh, "the toldo of a chief isempty, its fires are extinguished."
"Oh! oh!" the Linda interrupted; "have you no wives?"
"They are dead."
"And where is your tribe at this moment?"
"Oh!" said the Indian, "far from here--ten suns' march, at least. I wasreturning to rejoin the warriors of my tolderia, when Joan charged mewith this mission."
There was a short silence, during which the Linda appeared to bereflecting. Dona Rosario redoubled her attention--she felt she was aboutto know her fate.
"And pray," Dona Maria resumed, fixing her keen eyes upon the Indian,"what great interest detained you on the plains near the seashore?"
"None; I came, as the other Ulmens did, to renew the treaties."
"Had you no other reasons?"
"None at all."
"Listen to me, chief. You have, doubtless, admired the four horsesfastened at the gate of this house?"
"They are noble beasts," the Indian replied, his eyes glistening withthe desire of possessing them.
"Well, it only depends upon yourself that I should give them to you."
"Oh! oh!" he cried, joyfully, "what must I do for that?"
"Obey me," said the Linda, with a smile.
"I will obey," he replied.
"Whatever I command you?"
"Whatever my sister commands."
"That is well; but remember what I am going to say to you. If youdeceive me, my vengeance will be terrible--it will follow youeverywhere."
"Why should I deceive my sister?"
"Because your Indian race is so constituted--astute and roguish, everready to betray."
A sinister flash gleamed from the downcast eye of the Puelche warrior;nevertheless, he replied in a calm tone--
"My sister is mistaken; the Araucanos are loyal."
"We shall see," she coldly remarked. "What is your name?"
"The Musk Rat."
"Very well; listen, Musk Rat, to what I am going to say."
"My ears are open."
"This woman, who, according to my orders, you brought here, must neveragain revisit the shores of the sea."
"She shall never see them again."
"I do not wish her to die--understand that; she must suffer," the Lindaadded, in a tone which made the unhappy girl tremble with fear.
"She shall suffer."
"Yes," said Dona Maria, with sparkling eyes, "I wish that, during along course of years, she may suffer a martyrdom at every instant; sheis young, she will have time to call upon death to deliver her from hermisery before it deigns to listen to her. Beyond the mountains, far inthe deserts, in the virgin forests of the Grou-Chaco, I am told thathordes of Indians exist who are ferocious and sanguinary, and bear adeadly hatred towards all of the white race."
"Yes," said the Puelche, in a melancholy tone, "I have heard of thesemen from the chiefs of my tribe; they live only for murder."
"That is it!" she said, with sinister delight. "Well, chief, do youthink yourself abl
e to traverse these vast deserts, and reach theGrou-Chaco?"
"Why should I not?" the Indian replied, raising his head proudly, "Dothere exist obstacles strong enough to resist the Araucano warrior inhis course? The puma is the king of the forests, the vulture that of theheavens; but the Aucas is the king of the puma and the eagle; the desertis his--Guatechu has given it to him; his horse and his lance render himinvincible and master of immensity."
"Then my brother will accomplish this journey, which is impossible?"
A disdainful smile played for an instant round the lips of the savagewarrior.
"I will accomplish it," he said.
"Good! my brother is a chief--I perceive he is one now."
The Puelche bowed modestly.
"My brother will go there, then, and when he arrives in the Chaco, hewill sell the pale girl to the Guayacuras."
The Indian did not allow any mark of astonishment to be perceived uponhis face.
"I will sell her," he replied.
"That is well!--my brother will be faithful?"
"I am a chief; I have but one word, my tongue is not forked; but whyshould I take this pale woman so far?"
Dona Maria cast a penetrating glance at him--a suspicion crossed hermind--the Indian perceived it.
"I only made a simple observation to my sister; it concerns me little,and she need not answer me if she does not think proper," he said, withindifference.
The brow of the Linda became serene again.
"The remark is just, chief; I will answer it. Why take her so far, youasked me; because Antinahuel loves this woman--his heart is softened byher--and perhaps he will suffer himself to be moved by her prayers, andrestore her to her family. But it shall not happen; she shall weep tearsof blood; her heart shall break under the incessant pangs of grief; sheshall lose everything, even hope!"
After uttering these words, Dona Maria arose, with head erect, sparklingeyes, and extended arm; there was in her aspect something fatal andterrible, which terrified even the Indian, by nature so difficult tomove.
"Go," she cried, in a tone of command, "before she departs for ever,I will see this woman once--only once, and speak with her for a fewminutes; she shall at least know me: bring her hither!"
The Indian went out silently; this woman, so beautiful and so cruel,terrified him--she inspired him with horror.
Dona Rosario, on hearing this atrocious sentence pronounced against her,fell senseless to the ground.