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Gaspar Ruiz
By
Joseph Conrad
Contents
I =
II =
III =
VI =
VII =
VIII =
XI =
XII =
I
A Revolutionary w=
ar
raises many strange characters out of the obscurity which is the common lot=
of
humble lives in an undisturbed state of society.
Certain
individualities grow into fame through their vices and their virtues, or si=
mply
by their actions, which may have a temporary importance; and then they beco=
me
forgotten. The names of a few leaders alone survive the end of armed strife=
and
are further preserved in history; so that, vanishing from men's active
memories, they still exist in books.
The name of Gener=
al
Santierra attained that cold, paper-and-ink immortality. He was a South
American of good family, and the books published in his lifetime numbered h=
im
amongst the liberators of that continent from the oppressive rule of Spain.=
That long contest,
waged for independence on one side and for dominion on the other, developed=
, in
the course of years and the vicissitudes of changing fortune, the fierceness
and inhumanity of a struggle for life. All feelings of pity and compassion
disappeared in the growth of political hatred. And, as is usual in war, the
mass of the people, who had the least to gain by the issue, suffered most in
their obscure persons and their humble fortunes.
General Santierra
began his service as lieutenant in the patriot army raised and commanded by=
the
famous San Martin, afterwards conqueror of Lima and liberator of Peru. A gr=
eat
battle had just been fought on the banks of the river Bio-Bio. Amongst the
prisoners made upon the routed Royalist troops there was a soldier called
Gaspar Ruiz. His powerful build and his big head rendered him remarkable
amongst his fellow-captives. The personality of the man was unmistakable. S=
ome months
before, he had been missed from the ranks of Republican troops after one of=
the
many skirmishes which preceded the great battle. And now, having been captu=
red
arms in hand amongst Royalists, he could expect no other fate but to be sho=
t as
a deserter.
Gaspar Ruiz, howe=
ver,
was not a deserter; his mind was hardly active enough to take a discriminat=
ing
view of the advantages or perils of treachery. Why should he change sides? =
He
had really been made a prisoner, had suffered ill-usage and many privations.
Neither side showed tenderness to its adversaries. There came a day when he=
was
ordered, together with some other captured rebels, to march in the front ra=
nk
of the Royal troops. A musket, had been thrust into his hands. He had taken=
it.
He had marched. He did not want to be killed with circumstances of peculiar
atrocity for refusing to march. He did not understand heroism, but it was h=
is
intention to throw his musket away at the first opportunity. Meantime he had
gone on loading and firing, from fear of having his brains blown out, at the
first sign of unwillingness, by some non-commissioned officer of the King of
Spain. He tried to set forth these elementary considerations before the
sergeant of the guard set over him and some twenty other such deserters, who
had been condemned summarily to be shot.
It was in the
quadrangle of the fort at the back of the batteries which command the road-=
stead
of Valparaiso. The officer who had identified him had gone on without liste=
ning
to his protestations. His doom was sealed; his hands were tied very tightly
together behind his back; his body was sore all over from the many blows wi=
th
sticks and butts of muskets which had hurried him along on the painful road
from the place of his capture to the gate of the fort. This was the only ki=
nd
of systematic attention the prisoners had received from their escort during=
a
four days' journey across a scantily watered tract of country. At the cross=
ings
of rare streams they were permitted to quench their thirst by lapping hurri=
edly
like dogs. In the evening a few scraps of meat were thrown amongst them as =
they
dropped down dead-beat upon the stony ground of the halting-place.
As he stood in the
courtyard of the castle in the early morning, after having been driven hard=
all
night, Gaspar Ruiz's throat was parched, and his tongue felt very large and=
dry
in his mouth.
And Gaspar Ruiz,
besides being very thirsty, was stirred by a feeling of sluggish anger, whi=
ch
he could not very well express, as though the vigour of his spirit were by =
no
means equal to the strength of his body.
The other prisone=
rs
in the batch of the condemned hung their heads, looking obstinately on the
ground. But Gaspar Ruiz kept on repeating: "What should I desert for to
the Royalists? Why should I desert? Tell me, Estaban!"
He addressed hims=
elf
to the sergeant, who happened to belong to the same part of the country as
himself. But the sergeant, after shrugging his meagre shoulders once, paid =
no
further attention to the deep murmuring voice at his back. It was indeed
strange that Gaspar Ruiz should desert. His people were in too humble a sta=
tion
to feel much the disadvantages of any form of government. There was no reas=
on
why Gaspar Ruiz should wish to uphold in his own person the rule of the Kin=
g of
Spain. Neither had he been anxious to exert himself for its subversion. He =
had
joined the side of Independence in an extremely reasonable and natural mann=
er. A
band of patriots appeared one morning early, surrounding his father's ranch=
e,
spearing the watch-dogs and hamstringing a fat cow all in the twinkling of =
an
eye, to the cries of "Viva La Libertad!" Their officer discoursed=
of
Liberty with enthusiasm and eloquence after a long and refreshing sleep. Wh=
en
they left in the evening, taking with them some of Ruiz, the father's, best
horses to replace their own lamed animals, Gaspar Ruiz went away with them,
having been invited pressingly to do so by the eloquent officer.
Shortly afterward=
s a
detachment of Royalist troops, coming to pacify the district, burnt the ran=
che,
carried off the remaining horses and cattle, and having thus deprived the o=
ld
people of all their worldly possessions, left them sitting under a bush in =
the
enjoyment of the inestimable boon of life.
II
GASPAR Ruiz,
condemned to death as a deserter, was not thinking either of his native pla=
ce
or of his parents, to whom he had been a good son on account of the mildnes=
s of
his character and the great strength of his limbs. The practical advantage =
of
this last was made still more valuable to his father by his obedient
disposition. Gaspar Ruiz had an acquiescent soul.
But it was stirred
now to a sort of dim revolt by his dislike to die the death of a traitor. He
was not a traitor. He said again to the sergeant: "You know I did not
desert, Estaban. You know I remained behind amongst the trees with three ot=
hers
to keep the enemy back while the detachment was running away!"
Lieutenant Santie=
rra,
little more than a boy at the time, and unused as yet to the sanguinary
imbecilities of a state of war, had lingered near by, as if fascinated by t=
he
sight of these men who were to be shot presently--"for an
example"--as the Commandante had said.
The sergeant, wit=
hout
deigning to look at the prisoner, addressed himself to the young officer wi=
th a
superior smile.
"Ten men wou=
ld
not have been enough to make him a prisoner, mi teniente. Moreover, the oth=
er
three rejoined the detachment after dark. Why should he, unwounded and the
strongest of them all, have failed to do so?"
"My strength=
is
as nothing against a mounted man with a lasso," Gaspar Ruiz protested
eagerly. "He dragged me behind his horse for half a mile."
At this excellent
reason the sergeant only laughed contemptuously. The young officer hurried =
away
after the Commandante.
Presently the
adjutant of the castle came by. He was a truculent, raw-boned man in a ragg=
ed
uniform. His spluttering voice issued out of a flat, yellow face. The serge=
ant learned
from him that the condemned men would not be shot till sunset. He begged th=
en
to know what he was to do with them meantime.
The adjutant look=
ed
savagely round the courtyard, and, pointing to the door of a small dungeon-=
like
guard-room, receiving light and air through one heavily-barred window, said:
"Drive the scoundrels in there."
The sergeant,
tightening his grip upon the stick he carried in virtue of his rank, execut=
ed
this order with alacrity and zeal. He hit Gaspar Ruiz, whose movements were=
slow,
over his head and shoulders. Gaspar Ruiz stood still for a moment under the
shower of blows, biting his lip thoughtfully as if absorbed by a perplexing
mental process--then followed the others without haste. The door was locked,
and the adjutant carried off the key.
By noon the heat =
of
that low vaulted place crammed to suffocation had become unbearable. The
prisoners crowded towards the window, begging their guards for a drop of wa=
ter;
but the soldiers remained lying in indolent attitudes wherever there was a
little shade under a wall, while the sentry sat with his back against the d=
oor
smoking a cigarette, and raising his eyebrows philosophically from time to
time. Gaspar Ruiz had pushed his way to the window with irresistible force.=
His
capacious chest needed more air than the others; his big face, resting with=
its
chin on the ledge, pressed close to the bars, seemed to support the other f=
aces
crowding up for breath. From moaned entreaties they had passed to desperate
cries, and the tumultuous howling of those thirsty men obliged a young offi=
cer
who was just then crossing the courtyard to shout in order to make himself
heard.
"Why don't y=
ou
give some water to these prisoners!"
The sergeant, wit=
h an
air of surprised innocence, excused himself by the remark that all those men
were condemned to die in a very few hours.
Lieutenant Santie=
rra
stamped his foot. "They are condemned to death, not to torture," =
he
shouted. "Give them some water at once."
Impressed by this
appearance of anger, the soldiers bestirred themselves, and the sentry,
snatching up his musket, stood to attention.
But when a couple=
of
buckets were found and filled from the well, it was discovered that they co=
uld
not be passed through the bars, which were set too close. At the prospect of
quenching their thirst, the shrieks of those trampled down in the struggle =
to
get near the opening became very heartrending. But when the soldiers who had
lifted the buckets towards the window put them to the ground again helpless=
ly,
the yell of disappointment was still more terrible.
The soldiers of t=
he
army of Independence were not equipped with canteens. A small tin cup was
found, but its approach to the opening caused such a commotion, such yells =
of
rage and' pain in the vague mass of limbs behind the straining faces at the
window, that Lieutenant Santierra cried out hurriedly, "No, no--you mu=
st
open the door, sergeant."
The sergeant,
shrugging his shoulders, explained that he had no right to open the door ev=
en
if he had had the key. But he had not the key. The adjutant of the garrison
kept the key. Those men were giving much unnecessary trouble, since they ha=
d to
die at sunset in any case. Why they had not been shot at once early in the
morning he could not understand.
Lieutenant Santie=
rra
kept his back studiously to the window. It was at his earnest solicitations
that the Commandante had delayed the execution. This favour had been grante=
d to
him in consideration of his distinguished family and of his father's high
position amongst the chiefs of the Republican party. Lieutenant Santierra
believed that the General commanding would visit the fort some time in the
afternoon, and he ingenuously hoped that his naive intercession would induc=
e that
severe man to pardon some, at least, of those criminals. In the revulsion of
his feeling his interference stood revealed now as guilty and futile meddli=
ng.
It appeared to him obvious that the general would never even consent to lis=
ten
to his petition. He could never save those men, and he had only made himself
responsible for the sufferings added to the cruelty of their fate.
"Then go at =
once
and get the key from the adjutant," said Lieutenant Santierra.
The sergeant shook
his head with a sort of bashful smile, while his eyes glanced sideways at
Gaspar Ruiz's face, motionless and silent, staring through the bars at the
bottom of a heap of other haggard, distorted, yelling faces.
His worship the
adjutant de Plaza, the sergeant murmured, was having his siesta; and suppos=
ing
that he, the sergeant, would be allowed access to him, the only result he
expected would be to have his soul flogged out of his body for presuming to
disturb his worship's repose. He made a deprecatory movement with his hands,
and stood stock-still, looking down modestly upon his brown toes.
Lieutenant Santie=
rra
glared with indignation, but hesitated. His handsome oval face, as smooth a=
s a
girl's, flushed with the shame of his perplexity. Its nature humiliated his
spirit. His hairless upper lip trembled; he seemed on the point of either
bursting into a fit of rage or into tears of dismay.
Fifty years later,
General Santierra, the venerable relic of revolutionary times, was well abl=
e to
remember the feelings of the young lieutenant. Since he had given up riding
altogether, and found it difficult to walk beyond the limits of his garden,=
the
general's greatest delight, was to entertain in his house the officers of t=
he foreign
men-of-war visiting the harbour. For Englishmen he had a preference, as for=
old
companions in arms. English naval men of all ranks accepted his hospitality
with curiosity, because he had known Lord Cochrane and had taken part, on b=
oard
the patriot squadron commanded by that marvellous seaman, in the cutting-out
and blockading operations before Callao--an episode of unalloyed glory in t=
he
wars of Independence and of endless honour in the fighting tradition of
Englishmen. He was a fair linguist, this ancient survivor of the Liberating
armies. A trick of smoothing his long white beard whenever he was short of a
word in French or English imparted an air of leisurely dignity to the tone =
of his
reminiscences.
III
"YES, my
friends," he used to say to his guests, "what would you have? A y=
outh
of seventeen summers, without worldly experience, and owing my rank only to=
the
glorious patriotism of my father, may God rest his soul, I suffered immense
humiliation, not so much from the disobedience of That subordinate, who, al=
ter
all, was responsible for those prisoners; but I suffered because, like the =
boy
I was, I myself dreaded going to the adjutant for the key. I had felt, befo=
re,
his rough and cutting tongue. Being quite a common fellow, with no merit ex=
cept
his savage valour, he made me feel his contempt and dislike from the first =
day
I joined my battalion in garrison at the fort. It was only a fortnight befo=
re!
I would have confronted him sword in hand, but I shrank from the mocking
brutality of his sneers.
"I don't
remember having been so miserable in my life before or since. The torment o=
f my
sensibility was so great that I wished the sergeant to fall dead at my feet,
and the stupid soldiers who stared at me to turn into corpses; and even tho=
se
wretches for whom my entreaties had procured a reprieve I wished dead also,
because I could not face them without shame. A mephitic heat like a whiff of
air from hell came out of that dark place in which they were confined. Thos=
e at
the window who heard what was going on jeered at me in very desperation; on=
e of
these fellows, gone mad no doubt, kept on urging me volubly to order the so=
ldiers
to fire through the window. His insane loquacity made my heart turn faint. =
And
my feet were like lead. There was no higher officer to whom I could appeal.=
I
had not even the firmness of spirit to simply go away.
"Benumbed by=
my
remorse, I stood with my back to the window. You must not suppose that all =
this
lasted a long time. How long could it have been? A minute? If you measured =
by
mental suffering it was like a hundred years; a longer time than all my life
has been since. No, certainly, it was not so much as a minute. The hoarse
screaming of those miserable wretches died out in their dry throats, and th=
en
suddenly a voice spoke, a deep voice muttering calmly. It called upon me to
turn round.
"That voice,
senores, proceeded from the head of Gaspar Ruiz. Of his body I could see
nothing. Some of his fellow-captives had clambered upon his back. He was
holding them up. His eyes blinked without looking at me. That and the movin=
g of
his lips was all he seemed able to manage in his overloaded state. And when=
I
turned round, this head, that seemed more than human size resting on its ch=
in
under a multitude of other heads, asked me whether I really desired to quen=
ch
the thirst of the captives.
"I said, 'Ye=
s,
yes!' eagerly, and came up quite close to the window. I was like a child, a=
nd
did not know what would happen. I was anxious to be comforted in my
helplessness and remorse.
"'Have you t=
he
authority, senor teniente, to release my wrists from their bonds?' Gaspar
Ruiz's head asked me.
"His features
expressed no anxiety, no hope; his heavy eyelids blinked upon his eyes that
looked past me straight into the courtyard.
"As if in an
ugly dream, I spoke, stammering: 'What do you mean? And how can I reach the
bonds on your wrists?'
"'I will try
what I can do,' he said; and then that large staring head moved at last, and
all the wild faces piled up in that window disappeared, tumbling down. He h=
ad
shaken his load off with one movement, so strong he was.
"And he had =
not
only shaken it off, but he got free of the crush and vanished from my sight.
For a moment there was no one at all to be seen at the window. He had swung
about, butting and shouldering, clearing a space for himself in the only wa=
y he
could do it with his hands tied behind his back.
"Finally,
backing to the opening, he pushed out to me between the bars his wrists, la=
shed
with many turns of rope. His hands, very swollen, with knotted veins, looked
enormous and unwieldy. I saw his bent back. It was very broad. His voice was
like the muttering of a bull.
"Cut, senor =
teniente!
Cut!'
"I drew my
sword, my new unblunted sword that had seen no service as yet, and severed =
the
many turns of the hide rope. I did this without knowing the why and the
wherefore of my action, but as it were compelled by my faith in that man. T=
he
sergeant made as if to cry out, but astonishment deprived him of his voice,=
and
he remained standing with his mouth open as if overtaken by sudden imbecili=
ty.
"I sheathed =
my
sword and faced the soldiers. An air of awestruck expectation had replaced
their usual listless apathy. I heard the voice of Gaspar Ruiz shouting insi=
de,
but the words I could not make out plainly. I suppose that to see him with =
his
arms free augmented the influence of his strength: I mean by this, the
spiritual influence that with ignorant people attaches to an exceptional de=
gree
of bodily vigour. In fact, he was no more to be feared than before, on acco=
unt
of the numbness of his arms and hands, which lasted for some time.
"The sergeant
had recovered his power of speech. 'By all the saints!' he cried, 'we shall
have to get a cavalry man with a lasso to secure him again, if he is to be =
led
to the place of execution. Nothing less than a good enlazador on a good hor=
se
can subdue him. Your worship was pleased to perform a very mad thing.'
"I had nothi=
ng
to say. I was surprised myself, and I felt a childish curiosity to see what
would happen. But the sergeant was thinking of the difficulty of controlling
Gaspar Ruiz when the time for making an example would come.
"'Or perhaps=
,'
the sergeant pursued vexedly, 'we shall be obliged to shoot him down as he
dashes out when the door is opened.' He was going to give further vent to h=
is
anxieties as to the proper carrying out of the sentence; but he interrupted
himself with a sudden exclamation, snatched a musket from a soldier, and st=
ood
watchful with his eyes fixed on the window.'"
IV
"GASPAR RUIZ=
had
clambered up on the sill, and sat down there with his feet against the
thickness of the wall and his knees slightly bent. The window was not quite
broad enough for the length of his legs. It appeared to my crestfallen
perception that he meant to keep the window all to himself. He seemed to be
taking up a comfortable position. Nobody inside dared to approach him now he
could strike with his hands.
"'Por Dios!'=
I
heard the sergeant muttering at my elbow, 'I shall shoot him through the he=
ad
now, and get rid of that trouble. He is a condemned man.'
"At that I
looked at him angrily. 'The general has not confirmed the sentence,' I
said--though I knew well in my heart that these were but vain words. The
sentence required no confirmation. 'You have no right to shoot him unless he
tries to escape,' I added firmly.
"'But sangre=
de
Dios!' the sergeant yelled out, bringing his musket up to the shoulder, 'he=
is
escaping now. Look!'
"But I, as if
that Gaspar Ruiz had cast a spell upon me, struck the musket upward, and the
bullet flew over the roofs somewhere. The sergeant dashed his arm to the gr=
ound
and stared. He might have commanded the soldiers to fire, but he did not. A=
nd
if he had he would not have been obeyed, I think, just then.
"With his fe=
et
against the thickness of the wall, and his hairy hands grasping the iron ba=
r,
Gaspar sat still. It was an attitude. Nothing happened for a time. And sudd=
enly
it dawned upon us that he was straightening his bowed back and contracting =
his
arms. His lips were twisted into a snarl. Next thing we perceived was that =
the
bar of forged iron was being bent slowly by the mightiness of his pull. The=
sun
was beating full upon his cramped, unquivering figure. A shower of sweat-dr=
ops
burst out of his forehead. Watching the bar grow crooked, I saw a little bl=
ood
ooze from under his finger-nails. Then he let go. For a moment he remained =
all
huddled up, with a hanging head, looking drowsily into the upturned palms of
his mighty hands. Indeed he seemed to have dozed off. Suddenly he flung him=
self
backwards on the sill, and setting the soles of his bare feet against the o=
ther
middle bar, he bent that one too, but in the opposite direction from the fi=
rst.
"Such was his
strength, which in this case relieved my painful feelings. And the man seem=
ed
to have done nothing. Except for the change of position in order to use his
feet, which made us all start by its swiftness, my recollection is that of
immobility. But he had bent the bars wide apart. And now he could get out i=
f he
liked; but he dropped his legs inwards; and looking over his shoulder becko=
ned
to the soldiers. 'Hand up the water,' he said. 'I will give them all a drin=
k.'
"He was obey=
ed.
For a moment I expected man and bucket to disappear, overwhelmed by the rus=
h of
eagerness; I thought they would pull him down with their teeth. There was a
rush, but holding the bucket on his lap he repulsed the assault of those
wretches by the mere swinging of his feet. They flew backwards at every kic=
k,
yelling with pain; and the soldiers laughed, gazing at the window.
"They all
laughed, holding their sides, except the sergeant, who was gloomy and moros=
e.
He was afraid the prisoners would rise and break out--which would have been=
a
bad example. But there was no fear of that, and I stood myself before the
window with my drawn sword. When sufficiently tamed by the strength of Gasp=
ar
Ruiz, they came up one by one, stretching their necks and presenting their =
lips
to the edge of the bucket which the strong man tilted towards them from his
knees with an extraordinary air of charity, gentleness and compassion. That
benevolent appearance was of course the effect of his care in not spilling =
the water
and of his attitude as he sat on the sill; for, if a man lingered with his =
lips
glued to the rim of the bucket after Gaspar Ruiz had said 'You have had
enough,' there would be no tenderness or mercy in the shove of the foot whi=
ch
would send him groaning and doubled up far into the interior of the prison,
where he would knock down two or three others before he fell himself. They =
came
up to him again and again; it looked as if they meant to drink the well dry
before going to their death; but the soldiers were so amused by Gaspar Ruiz=
's
systematic proceedings that they carried the water up to the window cheerfu=
lly.
"When the
adjutant came out after his siesta there was some trouble over this affair,=
I
can assure you. And the worst of it, that the general whom we expected never
came to the castle that day."
The guests of Gen=
eral
Santierra unanimously expressed their regret that the man of such strength =
and
patience had not been saved.
"He was not
saved by my interference," said the General. "The prisoners were =
led
to execution half an hour before sunset. Gaspar Ruiz, contrary to the
sergeant's apprehensions, gave no trouble. There was no necessity to get a
cavalry man with a lasso in order to subdue him, as if he were a wild bull =
of
the campo. I believe he marched out with his arms free amongst the others w=
ho
were bound. I did not see. I was not there. I had been put under arrest for
interfering with the prisoner's guard. About dusk, sitting dismally in my
quarters, I heard three volleys fired, and thought that I should never hear=
of
Gaspar Ruiz again. He fell with the others. But we were to hear of him
nevertheless, though the sergeant boasted that, as he lay on his face expir=
ing
or dead in the heap of the slain, he had slashed his neck with a sword. He =
had
done this, he said, to make sure of ridding the world of a dangerous traito=
r.
"I confess to
you, senores, that I thought of that strong man with a sort of gratitude, a=
nd
with some admiration. He had used his strength honourably. There dwelt, the=
n,
in his soul no fierceness corresponding to the vigour of his body."
V
GASPAR RUIZ, who
could with ease bend apart the heavy iron bars of the prison, was led out w=
ith
others to summary execution. "Every bullet has its billet," runs =
the
proverb. All the merit of proverbs consists in the concise and picturesque
expression. In the surprise of our minds is found their persuasiveness. In
other words, we are struck and convinced by the shock.
What surprises us=
is
the form, not the substance. Proverbs are art--cheap art. As a general rule
they are not true; unless indeed they happen to be mere platitudes, as for
instance the proverb, "Half a loaf is better than no bread," or
"A miss is as good as a mile." Some proverbs are simply imbecile,
others are immoral. That one evolved out of the naive heart of the great
Russian people, "Man discharges the piece, but God carries the
bullet," is piously atrocious, and at bitter variance with the accepted
conception of a compassionate God. It would indeed be an inconsistent
occupation for the Guardian of the poor, the innocent and the helpless, to
carry the bullet, for instance, into the heart of a father.
Gaspar Ruiz was
childless, he had no wife, he had never been in love. He had hardly ever sp=
oken
to a woman, beyond his mother and the ancient negress of the household, who=
se
wrinkled skin was the colour of cinders, and whose lean body was bent double
from age. If some bullets from those muskets fired off at fifteen paces were
specifically destined for the heart of Gaspar Ruiz, they all missed their
billet. One, however, carried away a small piece of his ear, and another a
fragment of flesh from his shoulder.
A red and uncloud=
ed
sun setting into a purple ocean looked with a fiery stare upon the enormous
wall of the Cordilleras, worthy witnesses of his glorious extinction. But i=
t is
inconceivable that it should have seen the ant-like men busy with their abs=
urd
and insignificant trials of killing and dying for reasons that, apart from
being generally childish, were also imperfectly understood. It did light up,
however, the backs of the firing party and the faces of the condemned men. =
Some
of them had fallen on their knees, others remained standing, a few averted
their heads from the levelled barrels of muskets. Gaspar Ruiz, upright, the=
burliest
of them all, hung his big shock head. The low sun dazzled him a little, and=
he
counted himself a dead man already.
He fell at the fi=
rst
discharge. He fell because he thought he was a dead man. He struck the grou=
nd
heavily. The jar of the fall surprised him. "I am not dead
apparently," he thought to himself, when he heard the execution platoon
reloading its arms at the word of command. It was then that the hope of esc=
ape
dawned upon him for the first time. He remained lying stretched out with ri=
gid
limbs under the weight of two bodies collapsed crosswise upon his back.
By the time the
soldiers had fired a third volley into the slightly stirring heaps of the
slain, the sun had gone out of sight, and almost immediately with the darke=
ning
of the ocean dusk fell upon the coasts of the young Republic. Above the glo=
om
of the lowlands the snowy peaks of the Cordillera remained luminous and cri=
mson
for a long time. The soldiers before marching back to the fort sat down to
smoke.
The sergeant with=
a
naked sword in his hand strolled away by himself along the heap of the dead=
. He
was a humane man, and watched for any stir or twitch of limb in the merciful
idea of plunging the point of his blade into any body giving the slightest =
sign
of life. But none of the bodies afforded him an opportunity for the display=
of
this charitable intention. Not a muscle twitched amongst them, not even the
powerful muscles of Gaspar Ruiz, who, deluged with the blood of his neighbo=
urs and
shamming death, strove to appear more lifeless than the others.
He was lying face
down. The sergeant recognised him by his stature, and being himself a very
small man, looked with envy and contempt at the prostration of so much
strength. He had always disliked that particular soldier. Moved by an obscu=
re animosity,
he inflicted a long gash across the neck of Gaspar Ruiz, with some vague no=
tion
of making sure of that strong man's death, as if a powerful physique were m=
ore
able to resist the bullets. For the sergeant had no doubt that Gaspar Ruiz =
had
been shot through in many places. Then he passed on, and shortly afterwards=
marched
off with, his men, leaving the bodies to the care of crows and vultures.
Gaspar Ruiz had
restrained a cry, though it had seemed to him that his head was cut off at a
blow; and when darkness came, shaking off the dead, whose weight had oppres=
sed
him, he crawled away over the plain on his hands and knees. After drinking
deeply, like a wounded beast, at a shallow stream, he assumed an upright
posture, and staggered on light-headed and aimless, as if lost amongst the
stars of the clear night. A small house seemed to rise out of the ground be=
fore
him. He stumbled into the porch and struck at the door with his fist. There=
was
not a gleam of light. Gaspar Ruiz might have thought that the inhabitants h=
ad
fled from it, as from many others in the neighbourhood, had it not been for=
the
shouts of abuse that answered his thumping. In his feverish and enfeebled s=
tate
the angry screaming seemed to him part of a hallucination belonging to the
weird dreamlike feeling of his unexpected condemnation to death, of the thi=
rst
suffered, of the volleys fired at him within fifteen paces, of his head bei=
ng
cut off at a blow. "Open the door!" he cried. "Open in the n=
ame
of God!"
An infuriated voi=
ce
from within jeered at him: "Come in, come in. This house belongs to yo=
u.
All this land belongs to you. Come and take it."
"For the lov=
e of
God," Gaspar Ruiz murmured.
"Does not all
the land belong to you patriots?" the voice on the other side of the d=
oor
screamed on. "Are you not a patriot?"
Gaspar Ruiz did n=
ot
know. "I am a wounded man," he said apathetically.
All became still
inside. Gaspar Ruiz lost the hope of being admitted, and lay down under the
porch just outside the door. He was utterly careless of what was going to
happen to him. All his consciousness seemed to be concentrated in his neck,
where he felt a severe pain. His indifference as to his fate was genuine.
The day was break=
ing
when he awoke from a feverish doze; the door at which he had knocked in the
dark stood wide open now, and a girl, steadying herself with her outspread
arms, leaned over the threshold. Lying on his back, he stared up at her. Her
face was pale and her eyes were very dark; her hair hung down black as ebony
against her white cheeks; her lips were full and red. Beyond her he saw ano=
ther
head with long grey hair, and a thin old face with a pair of anxiously clas=
ped hands
under the chin.
VI
"I KNEW those
people by sight," General Santierra would tell his guests at the
dining-table. "I mean the people with whom Gaspar Ruiz found shelter. =
The
father was an old Spaniard, a man of property, ruined by the revolution. His
estates, his house in town, his money, everything he had in the world had b=
een
confiscated by proclamation, for he was a bitter foe of our independence. F=
rom
a position of great dignity and influence on the Viceroy's Council he becam=
e of
less importance than his own negro slaves made free by our glorious revolut=
ion.
He had not even the means to flee the country, as other Spaniards had manag=
ed
to do. It may be that, wandering ruined and houseless, and burdened with
nothing but his life, which was left to him by the clemency of the Provisio=
nal Government,
he had simply walked under that broken roof of old tiles. It was a lonely s=
pot.
There did not seem to be even a dog belonging to the place. But though the =
roof
had holes, as if a cannonball or two had dropped through it, the wooden
shutters were thick and tight-closed all the time.
"My way took=
me
frequently along the path in front of that miserable rancho. I rode from the
fort to the town almost every evening, to sigh at the window of a lady I wa=
s in
love with, then. When one is young, you understand.... She was a good patri=
ot,
you may be sure. Caballeros, credit me or not, political feeling ran so hig=
h in
those days that I do not believe I could have been fascinated by the charms=
of
a woman of Royalist opinions...."
Murmurs of amused
incredulity all round the table interrupted the General; and while they las=
ted
he stroked his white beard gravely.
"Senores,&qu=
ot;
he protested, "a Royalist was a monster to our overwrought feelings. I=
am
telling you this in order not to be suspected of the slightest tenderness
towards that old Royalist's daughter. Moreover, as you know, my affections =
were
engaged elsewhere. But I could not help noticing her on rare occasions when
with the front door open she stood in the porch.
"You must kn=
ow
that this old Royalist was as crazy as a man can be. His political misfortu=
nes,
his total downfall and ruin, had disordered his mind. To show his contempt =
for
what we patriots could do, he affected to laugh at his imprisonment, at the
confiscation of his lands, the burning of his houses, and the misery to whi=
ch
he and his womenfolk were reduced. This habit of laughing had grown upon hi=
m,
so that he would begin to laugh and shout directly he caught sight of any
stranger. That was the form of his madness.
"I, of cours=
e,
disregarded the noise of that madman with that feeling of superiority the
success of our cause inspired in us Americans. I suppose I really despised =
him
because he was an old Castilian, a Spaniard born, and a Royalist. Those were
certainly no reasons to scorn a man; but for centuries Spaniards born had s=
hown
their contempt of us Americans, men as well descended as themselves, simply
because we were what they called colonists. We had been kept in abasement a=
nd
made to feel our inferiority in social intercourse. And now it was our turn=
. It
was sale for us patriots to display the same sentiments; and I being a youn=
g patriot,
son of a patriot, despised that old Spaniard, and despising him I naturally
disregarded his abuse, though it was annoying to my feelings. Others perhaps
would not have been so forbearing.
"He would be=
gin
with a great yell--'I see a patriot. Another of them!' long before I came
abreast of the house. The tone of his senseless revilings, mingled with bur=
sts
of laughter, was sometimes piercingly shrill and sometimes grave. It was all
very mad; but I felt it incumbent upon my dignity to check my horse to a wa=
lk
without even glancing towards the house, as if that man's abusive clamour in
the porch were less than the barking of a cur. I rode by, preserving an
expression of haughty indifference on my face.
"It was no d=
oubt
very dignified; but I should have done better if I had kept my eyes open. A
military man in war time should never consider himself off duty; and especi=
ally
so if the war is a revolutionary war, when the enemy is not at the door, but
within your very house. At such times the heat of passionate convictions,
passing into hatred, removes the restraints of honour and humanity from many
men and of delicacy and fear from some women. These last, when once they th=
row
off the timidity and reserve of their sex, become by the vivacity of their
intelligence and the violence of their merciless resentment more dangerous =
than
so many armed giants."
The General's voi=
ce
rose, but his big hand stroked his white beard twice with an effect of
venerable calmness. "Si, senores! Women are ready to rise to the heigh=
ts
of devotion unattainable by us men, or to sink into the depths of abasement
which amazes our masculine prejudices. I am speaking now of exceptional wom=
en,
you understand..."
Here one of the
guests observed that he had never met a woman yet who was not capable of
turning out quite exceptional under circumstances that would engage her
feelings strongly. "That sort of superiority in recklessness they have
over us," he concluded, "makes of them the more interesting half =
of
mankind."
The General, who =
bore
the interruption with gravity, nodded courteous assent. "Si. Si. Under
circumstances.... Precisely. They can do an infinite deal of mischief somet=
imes
in quite unexpected ways. For who could have imagined that a young girl,
daughter of a ruined Royalist whose life itself was held only by the contem=
pt
of his enemies, would have had the power to bring death and devastation upon
two flourishing provinces and cause serious anxiety to the leaders of the
revolution in the very hour of its success!" He paused to let the wond=
er
of it penetrate our minds.
"Death and
devastation," somebody murmured in surprise: "how shocking!"=
The old General g=
ave
a glance in the direction of the murmur and went on. "Yes. That is,
war--calamity. But the means by which she obtained the power to work this h=
avoc
on our southern frontier seem to me, who have seen her and spoken to her, s=
till
more shocking. That particular thing left on my mind a dreadful amazement w=
hich
the further experience of life, of more than fifty years, has done nothing =
to
diminish." He looked round as if to make sure of our attention, and, i=
n a
changed voice: "I am, as you know, a republican, son of a Liberator,&q=
uot;
he declared. "My incomparable mother, God rest her soul, was a
Frenchwoman, the daughter of an ardent republican. As a boy I fought for
liberty; I've always believed in the equality of men; and as to their broth=
erhood,
that, to my mind, is even more certain. Look at the fierce animosity they
display in their differences. And what in the world do you know that is more
bitterly fierce than brothers' quarrels?"
All absence of
cynicism checked an inclination to smile at this view of human brotherhood.=
On
the contrary, there was in the tone the melancholy natural to a man profoun=
dly
humane at heart who from duty, from conviction and from necessity, had play=
ed
his part in scenes of ruthless violence.
The General had s=
een
much of fratricidal strife. "Certainly. There is no doubt of their
brotherhood," he insisted. "All men are brothers, and as such know
almost too much of each other. But "--and here in the old patriarchal
head, white as silver, the black eyes humorously twinkled--"if we are =
all
brothers, all the women are not our sisters."
One of the younger
guests was heard murmuring his satisfaction at the fact. But the General
continued, with deliberate earnestness: "They are so different! The ta=
le
of a king who took a beggar-maid for a partner of his throne may be pretty
enough as we men look upon ourselves and upon love. But that a young girl,
famous for her haughty beauty and, only a short time before, the admired of=
all
at the balls in the Viceroy's palace, should take by the hand a guasso, a
common peasant, is intolerable to our sentiment of women and their love. It=
is
madness. Nevertheless it happened. But it must be said that in her case it =
was the
madness of hate--not of love."
After presenting =
this
excuse in a spirit of chivalrous justice, the General remained silent for a
time. "I rode past the house every day almost," he began again,
"and this was what was going on within. But how it was going on no min=
d of
man can conceive. Her desperation must have been extreme, and Gaspar Ruiz w=
as a
docile fellow. He had been an obedient soldier. His strength was like an
enormous stone lying on the ground, ready to be hurled this way that by the
hand that picks it up.
"It is clear
that he would tell his story to the people who gave him the shelter he need=
ed.
And he needed assistance badly. His wound was not dangerous, but his life w=
as
forfeited. The old Royalist being wrapped up in his laughing madness, the t=
wo
women arranged a hiding-place for the wounded man in one of the huts amongst
the fruit trees at the back of the house. That hovel, an abundance of clear
water while the fever was on him, and some words of pity were all they could
give. I suppose he had a share of what food there was. And it would be but
little; a handful of roasted corn, perhaps a dish of beans, or a piece of b=
read
with a few figs. To such misery were those proud and once wealthy people re=
duced."
VII
GENERAL SANTIERRA=
was
right in his surmise. Such was the exact nature of the assistance which Gas=
par
Ruiz, peasant son of peasants, received from the Royalist family whose daug=
hter
had opened the door--of their miserable refuge to his extreme distress. Her
sombre resolution ruled the madness of her father and the trembling
bewilderment of her mother.
She had asked the
strange man on the door-step, "Who wounded you?"
"The soldier=
s,
senora," Gaspar Ruiz had answered, in a faint voice.
"Patriots?&q=
uot;
"Si."
"What for?&q=
uot;
"Deserter,&q=
uot;
he gasped, leaning against the wall under the scrutiny of her black eyes.
"I was left for dead over there."
She led him throu=
gh
the house out to a small hut of clay and reeds, lost in the long grass of t=
he
overgrown orchard. He sank on a heap of maize straw in a corner, and sighed
profoundly.
"No one will
look for you here," she said, looking down at him. "Nobody comes =
near
us. We too have been left for dead--here."
He stirred uneasi=
ly
on his heap of dirty straw, and the pain in his neck made him groan
deliriously.
"I shall show
Estaban some day that I am alive yet," he mumbled.
He accepted her
assistance in silence, and the many days of pain went by. Her appearances in
the hut brought him relief and became connected with the feverish dreams of
angels which visited his couch; for Gaspar Ruiz was instructed in the myste=
ries
of his religion, and had even been taught to read and write a little by the
priest of his village. He waited for her with impatience, and saw her pass =
out
of the dark hut and disappear in the brilliant sunshine with poignant regre=
t.
He discovered that, while he lay there feeling so very weak, he could, by
closing his eyes, evoke her face with considerable distinctness. And this
discovered faculty charmed the long solitary hours of his convalescence. La=
ter,
when he began to regain his strength, he would creep at dusk from his hut to
the house and sit on the step of the garden door.
In one of the roo=
ms
the mad father paced to and fro, muttering to himself with short abrupt lau=
ghs.
In the passage, sitting on a stool, the mother sighed and moaned. The daugh=
ter,
in rough threadbare clothing, and her white haggard face half hidden by a
coarse manta, stood leaning against the lintel of the door. Gaspar Ruiz, wi=
th
his elbows propped on his knees and his head resting in his hands, talked t=
o the
two women in an undertone.
The common misery=
of
destitution would have made a bitter mockery of a marked insistence on soci=
al
differences. Gaspar Ruiz understood this in his simplicity. From his captiv=
ity
amongst the Royalists he could give them news of people they knew. He descr=
ibed
their appearance; and when he related the story of the battle in which he w=
as
recaptured the two women lamented the blow to their cause and the ruin of t=
heir
secret hopes.
He had no feeling
either way. But he felt a great devotion for that young girl. In his desire=
to
appear worthy of her condescension, he boasted a little of his bodily stren=
gth.
He had nothing else to boast of. Because of that quality his comrades treat=
ed
him with as great a deference, he explained, as though he had been a sergea=
nt,
both in camp and in battle.
"I could alw=
ays
get as many as I wanted to follow me anywhere, senorita. I ought to have be=
en
made an officer, because I can read and write."
Behind him the si=
lent
old lady fetched a moaning sigh from time to time; the distracted father
muttered to himself, pacing the sala; and Gaspar Ruiz would raise his eyes =
now
and then to look at the daughter of these people.
He would look at =
her
with curiosity because she was alive, and also with that feeling of familia=
rity
and awe with which he had contemplated in churches the inanimate and powerf=
ul
statues of the saints, whose protection is invoked in dangers and difficult=
ies.
His difficulty was very great.
He could not rema=
in
hiding in an orchard for ever and ever. He knew also very well that before =
he
had gone half a day's journey in any direction, he would be picked up by on=
e of
the cavalry patrols scouring the country, and brought into one or another of
the camps where the patriot army destined for the liberation of Peru was
collected. There he would in the end be recognised as Gaspar Ruiz--the dese=
rter
to the Royalists--and no doubt shot very effectually this time. There did n=
ot seem
any place in the world for the innocent Gaspar Ruiz anywhere. And at this
thought his simple soul surrendered itself to gloom and resentment as black=
as
night.
They had made him=
a
soldier forcibly. He did not mind being a soldier. And he had been a good
soldier as he had been a good son, because of his docility and his strength.
But now there was no use for either. They had taken him from his parents, a=
nd
he could no longer be a soldier--not a good soldier at any rate. Nobody wou=
ld
listen to his explanations. What injustice it was! What injustice!
And in a mournful
murmur he would go over the story of his capture and recapture for the
twentieth time. Then, raising his eyes to the silent girl in the doorway,
"Si, senorita," he would say with a deep sigh, "injustice has
made this poor breath in my body quite worthless to me and to anybody else.=
And
I do not care who robs me of it."
One evening, as he
exhaled thus the plaint of his wounded soul, she condescended to say that, =
if
she were a man, she would consider no life worthless which held the possibi=
lity
of revenge.
She seemed to be
speaking to herself. Her voice was low. He drank in the gentle, as if dreamy
sound, with a consciousness of peculiar delight, of something warming his b=
reast
like a draught of generous wine.
"True,
senorita," he said, raising his face up to hers slowly: "there is=
Estaban,
who must be shown that I am not dead after all."
The mutterings of=
the
mad father had ceased long before; the sighing mother had withdrawn somewhe=
re
into one of the empty rooms. All was still within as well as without, in the
moonlight bright as day on the wild orchard full of inky shadows. Gaspar Ru=
iz
saw the dark eyes of Doña Erminia look down at him.
"Ala! The
sergeant," she muttered disdainfully.
"Why! He has
wounded me with his sword," he protested, bewildered by the contempt t=
hat
seemed to shine livid on her pale face.
She crushed him w=
ith
her glance. The power of her will to be understood was so strong that it
kindled in him the intelligence of unexpressed things.
"What else d=
id
you expect me to do?" he cried, as if suddenly driven to despair.
"Have I the power to do more? Am I a general with an army at my back?-=
-miserable
sinner that I am to be despised by you at last."
VIII
"SENORES,&qu=
ot;
related the General to his guests, "though my thoughts were of love th=
en,
and therefore enchanting, the sight of that house always affected me
disagreeably, especially in the moonlight, when its close shutters and its =
air
of lonely neglect appeared sinister. Still I went on using the bridle-path =
by
the ravine, because it was a short cut. The mad Royalist howled and laughed=
at
me every evening to his complete satisfaction; but after a time, as if wear=
ied
with my indifference, he ceased to appear in the porch. How they persuaded =
him
to leave off I do not know. However, with Gaspar Ruiz in the house there wo=
uld
have been no difficulty in restraining him by force. It was part of their
policy in there to avoid anything which could provoke me. At least, so I su=
ppose.
"Notwithstan=
ding
my infatuation with the brightest pair of eyes in Chile, I noticed the abse=
nce
of the old man after a week or so. A few more days passed. I began to think
that perhaps these Royalists had gone away somewhere else. But one evening,=
as
I was hastening towards the city, I saw again somebody in the porch. It was=
not
the madman; it was the girl. She stood holding on to one of the wooden colu=
mns,
tall and white-faced, her big eyes sunk deep with privation and sorrow. I
looked hard at her, and she met my stare with a strange, inquisitive look. =
Then,
as I turned my head after riding past, she seemed to gather courage for the
act, and absolutely beckoned me back.
"I obeyed,
senores, almost without thinking, so great was my astonishment. It was grea=
ter
still when I heard what she had to say. She began by thanking me for my
forbearance of her father's infirmity, so that I felt ashamed of myself. I =
had
meant to show disdain, not forbearance! Every word must have burnt her lips,
but she never departed from a gentle and melancholy dignity which filled me
with respect against my will. Senores, we are no match for women. But I cou=
ld
hardly believe my ears when she began her tale. Providence, she concluded, =
seemed
to have preserved the life of that wronged soldier, who now trusted to my
honour as a caballero and to my compassion for his sufferings.
"'Wronged ma=
n,'
I observed coldly. 'Well, I think so too: and you have been harbouring an e=
nemy
of your cause.'
"'He was a p=
oor
Christian crying for help at our door in the name of God, senor,' she answe=
red
simply.
"I began to
admire her. 'Where is he now?' I asked stiffly.
"But she wou=
ld
not answer that question. With extreme cunning, and an almost fiendish
delicacy, she managed to remind me of my failure in saving the lives of the
prisoners in the guard-room, without wounding my pride. She knew, of course,
the whole story. Gaspar Ruiz, she said, entreated me to procure for him a
safe-conduce from General San Martin himself. He had an important communica=
tion
to make to the Commander-in-Chief.
"Por Dios,
senores, she made me swallow all that, pretending to be only the mouthpiece=
of
that poor man. Overcome by injustice, he expected to find, she said, as much
generosity in me as had been shown to him by the Royalist family which had
given him a refuge.
"Hal It was =
well
and nobly said to a youngster like me. I thought her great. Alas! she was o=
nly
implacable.
"In the end I
rode away very enthusiastic about the business, without demanding even to s=
ee
Gaspar Ruiz, who I was confident was in the house.
"But on calm
reflection I began to see some difficulties which I had not confidence enou=
gh
in myself to encounter. It was not easy to approach a commander-in-chief wi=
th
such a story. I feared failure. At last I thought it better to lay the matt=
er
before my general-of-division, Robles, a friend of my family, who had appoi=
nted
me his aide-de-camp lately.
"He took it =
out
of my hands at once without any ceremony.
"'In the hou=
se!
of course he is in the house,' he said contemptuously. 'You ought to have g=
one
sword in hand inside and demanded his surrender, instead of chatting with a
Royalist girl in the porch. Those people should have been hunted out of that
long ago. Who knows how many spies they have harboured right in the very mi=
dst
of our camps? A safe-conduct from the Commander-in-Chief! The audacity of t=
he
fellow! Ha! ha! Now we shall catch him to-night, and then we shall find out,
without any safe-conduct, what he has got to say, that is so very important.
Ha! ha! ha!'
"General Rob=
les,
peace to his soul, was a short, thick man, with round, staring eyes, fierce=
and
jovial. Seeing my distress he added:
"'Come, come,
chico. I promise you his life if he does not resist. And that is not likely=
. We
are not going to break up a good soldier if it can be helped. I tell you wh=
at!
I am curious to see your strong man. Nothing but a general will do for the
picaro--well, he shall have a general to talk to. Ha! ha! I shall go myself=
to
the catching, and you are coming with me, of course.'
"And it was =
done
that same night. Early in the evening the house and the orchard were surrou=
nded
quietly. Later on the general and I left a ball we were attending in town a=
nd
rode out at an easy gallop. At some little distance from the house we pulled
up. A mounted orderly held our horses. A low whistle warned the men watching
all along the ravine, and we walked up to the porch softly. The barricaded
house in the moonlight seemed empty.
"The general
knocked at the door. After a time a woman's voice within asked who was ther=
e.
My chief nudged me hard. I gasped.
"' It is I,
Lieutenant Santierra,' I stammered out, as if choked. 'Open the door.'
"It came open
slowly. The girl, holding a thin taper in her hand, seeing another man with=
me,
began to back away before us slowly, shading the light with her hand. Her
impassive white face looked ghostly. I followed behind General Robles. Her =
eyes
were fixed on mine. I made a gesture of helplessness behind my chief's back,
trying at the same time to give a reassuring expression to my face. Neither=
of
us three uttered a sound.
"We found
ourselves in a room with bare floor and walls. There was a rough table and a
couple of stools in it, nothing else whatever. An old woman with her grey h=
air
hanging loose wrung her hands when we appeared. A peal of loud laughter
resounded through the empty house, very amazing and weird. At this the old
woman tried to get past us.
"'Nobody to
leave the room,' said General Robles to me.
"I swung the door to, heard the latch click, and the laughter became faint in our ears.<= o:p>
"Before anot=
her
word could be spoken in that room I was amazed by hearing the sound of dist=
ant
thunder.
"I had carri=
ed
in with me into the house a vivid impression of a beautiful, clear, moonlig=
ht
night, without a speck of cloud in the sky. I could not believe my ears. Se=
nt
early abroad for my education, I was not familiar with the most dreaded nat=
ural
phenomenon of my native land. I saw, with inexpressible astonishment, a loo=
k of
terror in my chief's eyes. Suddenly I felt giddy! The general staggered aga=
inst
me heavily; the girl seemed to reel in the middle of the room, the taper fe=
ll
out of her hand and the light went out; a shrill cry of Misericordia! from =
the old
woman pierced my ears. In the pitchy darkness I heard the plaster off the w=
alls
falling on The floor. It is a mercy there was no ceiling. Holding on to the
latch of the door, I heard the grinding of the roof-tiles cease above my he=
ad.
The shock was over.
"'Out of the
house! The door! Fly, Santierra, fly!' howled the general. You know, senore=
s,
in our country the bravest are not ashamed of the fear an earthquake strikes
into all the senses of man. One never gets used to it.
"Repeated
experience only augments the mastery of that nameless terror.
"It was my f=
irst
earthquake, and I was the calmest of them all. I understood that the crash
outside was caused by the porch, with its wooden pillars and tiled roof
projection, falling down. The next shock would destroy the house, maybe. Th=
at
rumble as of thunder was approaching again. The general was rushing round t=
he
room, to find the door, perhaps. He made a noise as though he were trying to
climb the walls, and I heard him distinctly invoke the names of several sai=
nts.
'Out, out, Santierra!' he yelled.
"The girl's
voice was the only one I did not hear.
"'General,' I
cried, 'I cannot move the door. We must be locked in.'
"I did not
recognise his voice in the shout of malediction and despair he let out. Sen=
ores
I know many men in my country, especially in the provinces most subject to
earthquakes, who will neither eat, sleep, pray, nor even sit down to cards =
with
closed doors. The danger is not in the loss of time, but in this--that the
movement of the walls may prevent a door being opened at all. This was what=
had
happened to us. We were trapped, and we had no help to expect from anybody.
There is no man in my country who will go into a house when the earth tremb=
les.
There never was--except one: Gaspar Ruiz.
"He had come=
out
of whatever hole he had been hiding in outside, and had clambered over the
timbers of the destroyed porch. Above the awful subterranean groan of coming
destruction I heard a mighty voice shouting the word 'Erminia!' with the lu=
ngs
of a giant. An earthquake is a great leveller of distinctions. I collected =
all
my resolution against the terror of the scene. 'She is here,' I shouted bac=
k. A
roar as of a furious wild beast answered me--while my head swam, my heart s=
ank,
and the sweat of anguish streamed like rain off my brow.
"He had the
strength to pick up one of the heavy posts of the porch. Holding it under h=
is
armpit like a lance, but with both hands, he charged madly the rocking house
with the force of a battering-ram, bursting open the door and rushing in,
headlong, over our prostrate bodies. I and the general, picking ourselves u=
p,
bolted out together, without looking round once till we got across the road.
Then, clinging to each other, we beheld the house change suddenly into a he=
ap
of formless rubbish behind the back of a man, who staggered towards us bear=
ing
the form of a woman clasped in his arms. Her long black hair hung nearly to=
his
feet. He laid her down reverently on the heaving earth, and the moonlight s=
hone
on her closed eyes.
"senores, we
mounted with difficulty. Our horses, getting up, plunged madly, held by the
soldiers who had come running from all sides. Nobody thought of catching Ga=
spar
Ruiz then. The eyes of men and animals shone with wild fear. My general
approached Gaspar Ruiz, who stood motionless as a statue above the girl. He=
let
himself be shaken by the shoulder without detaching his eyes from her face.=
"'Que guape!'
shouted the general in his ear. 'You are the bravest man living. You have s=
aved
my life. I am General Robles. Come to my quarters to-morrow, if God gives us
the grace to see another day.'
"He never
stirred--as if deaf, without feeling, insensible.
"We rode away
for the town, full of our relations, of our friends, of whose fate we hardly
dared to think. The soldiers ran by the side of our horses. Everything was
forgotten in the immensity of the catastrophe overtaking a whole country.&q=
uot;
Gaspar Ruiz saw t=
he
girl open her eyes. The raising of her eyelids seemed to recall him from a
trance. They were alone; the cries of terror and distress from homeless peo=
ple
filled the plains of the coast, remote and immense, coming like a whisper i=
nto
their loneliness.
She rose swiftly =
to
her feet, darting fearful glances on all sides. "What is it?" she
cried out low, and peering into his face. "Where am I?"
He bowed his head
sadly, without a word.
"... Who are
you?"
He knelt down slo=
wly
before her, and touched the hem of her coarse black baize skirt. "Your
slave," he said.
She caught sight =
then
of the heap of rubbish that had been the house, all misty in the cloud of d=
ust.
"Ah!" she cried, pressing her hand to her forehead.
"I carried y=
ou
out from there," he whispered at her feet.
"And they?&q=
uot;
she asked in a great sob.
He rose, and taki=
ng
her by the arms, led her gently towards the shapeless ruin half overwhelmed=
by
a land-slide. "Come and listen," he said.
The serene moon s=
aw
them clambering over that heap of stones, joists and tiles, which was a gra=
ve.
They pressed their ears to the interstices, listening for the sound of a gr=
oan,
for a sigh of pain.
At last he said,
"They died swiftly. You are alone."
She sat down on a
piece of broken timber and put one arm across her face. He waited--then,
approaching his lips to her ear, "Let us go," he whispered.
"Never--never
from here," she cried out, flinging her arms above her head.
He stooped over h=
er,
and her raised arms fell upon his shoulders. He lifted her up, steadied him=
self
and began to walk, looking straight before him.
"What are you
doing?" she asked feebly.
"I am escapi=
ng
from my enemies," he said, never once glancing at his light burden.
"With me?&qu=
ot;
she sighed helplessly.
"Never witho=
ut
you," he said. "You are my strength."
He pressed her cl=
ose
to him. His face was grave and his footsteps steady. The conflagrations
bursting out in the ruins of destroyed villages dotted the plain with red
fires; and the sounds of distant lamentations, the cries of "Misericor=
dia!
Misericordia!" made a desolate murmur in his ears. He walked on, solemn
and collected, as if carrying something holy, fragile and precious.
The earth rocked =
at
times under his feet.
IX
WITH movements of
mechanical care and an air of abstraction old General Santierra lighted a l=
ong
and thick cigar.
"It was a go=
od
many hours before we could send a party back to the ravine," he said t=
o his
guests. "We had found one-third of the town laid low, the rest shaken =
up;
and the inhabitants, rich and poor, reduced to the same state of distractio=
n by
the universal disaster. The affected cheerfulness of some contrasted with t=
he
despair of others. In the general confusion a number of reckless thieves,
without fear of God or man, became a danger to those who from the downfall =
of
their homes had managed to save some valuables. Crying 'Misericordia' louder
than any at every tremor, and beating their breasts with one hand, these
scoundrels robbed the poor victims with the other, not even stopping short =
of murder.
"General Rob=
les'
division was occupied entirely in guarding the destroyed quarters of the to=
wn
from the depredations of these inhuman monsters. Taken up with my duties of
orderly officer, it was only in the morning that I could assure myself of t=
he
safety of my own family.
"My mother a=
nd
my sisters had escaped with their lives from that ball-room, where I had le=
ft
them early in the evening. I remember those two beautiful young women--God =
rest
their souls--as if I saw them this moment, in the garden of our destroyed
house, pale but active, assisting some of our poor neighbours, in their soi=
led
ball-dresses and with the dust of fallen walls on their hair. As to my moth=
er,
she had a stoical soul in her frail body. Half-covered by a costly shawl, s=
he
was lying on a rustic seat by the side of an ornamental basin whose fountain
had ceased to play for ever on that night.
"I had hardly
had time to embrace them all with transports of joy, when my chief, coming
along, dispatched me to the ravine with a few soldiers, to bring in my stro=
ng
man, as he called him, and that pale girl.
"But there w=
as
no one for us to bring in. A land-slide had covered the ruins of the house;=
and
it was like a large mound of earth with only the ends of some timbers visib=
le
here and there--nothing more.
"Thus were t=
he
tribulations of the old Royalist couple ended. An enormous and unconsecrated
grave had swallowed them up alive, in their unhappy obstinacy against the w=
ill
of a people to be free. And their daughter was gone.
"That Gaspar
Ruiz had carried her off I understood very well. But as the case was not
foreseen, I had no instructions to pursue them. And certainly I had no desi=
re
to do so. I had grown mistrustful of my interference. It had never been
successful, and had not even appeared creditable. He was gone. Well, let him
go. And he had carried off the Royalist girl! Nothing better. Vaya con Dios.
This was not the time to bother about a deserter who, justly or unjustly, o=
ught
to have been dead, and a girl for whom it would have been better to have ne=
ver
been born.
"So I marche=
d my
men back to the town.
"After a few
days, order having been re-established, all the principal families, includi=
ng
my own, left for Santiago. We had a fine house there. At the same time the
division of Robles was moved to new cantonments near the capital. This chan=
ge
suited very well the state of my domestic and amorous feelings.
"One night,
rather late, I was called to my chief. I found General Robles in his quarte=
rs,
at ease, with his uniform off, drinking neat brandy out of a tumbler--as a
precaution, he used to say, against the sleeplessness induced by the bites =
of
mosquitoes. He was a good soldier, and he taught me the art and practice of
war.
"No doubt God
has been merciful to his soul; for his motives were never other than patrio=
tic,
if his character was irascible. As to the use of mosquito nets, he consider=
ed
it effeminate, shameful--unworthy of a soldier.
"I noticed at
the first glance that his face, already very red, wore an expression of high
good-humour.
"'Aha! senor
teniente,' he cried loudly, as I saluted at the door. 'Behold! Your strong =
man
has turned up again.'
"He extended=
to
me a folded letter, which I saw was superscribed 'To the Commander-in-Chief=
of
the Republican Armies.'
"'This,' Gen=
eral
Robles went on in his loud voice, 'was thrust by a boy into the hand of a
sentry at the Quartel General, while the fellow stood there thinking of his
girl, no doubt--for before he could gather his wits together, the boy had
disappeared amongst the market people, and he protests he could not recogni=
se
him to save his life.'
"My chief to=
ld
me further that the soldier had given the letter to the sergeant of the gua=
rd,
and that ultimately it had reached the hands of our generalissimo. His
Excellency had deigned to take cognisance of it with his own eyes. After th=
at
he had referred the matter in confidence to General Robles.
"The letter,
senores, I cannot now recollect textually. I saw the signature of Gaspar Ru=
iz.
He was an audacious fellow. He had snatched a soul for himself out of a
cataclysm, remember. And now it was that soul which had dictated the terms =
of
his letter. Its tone was very independent. I remember it struck me at the t=
ime
as noble--dignified. It was, no doubt, her letter. Now I shudder at the dep=
th
of its duplicity. Gaspar Ruiz was made to complain of the injustice of whic=
h he
had been a victim. He invoked his previous record of fidelity and courage.
Having been saved from death by the miraculous interposition of Providence,=
he could
think of nothing but of retrieving his character. This, he wrote, he could =
not
hope to do in the ranks as a discredited soldier still under suspicion. He =
had
the means to give a striking proof of his fidelity. And he ended by proposi=
ng
to the General-in-Chief a meeting at midnight in the middle of the Plaza be=
fore
the Moneta. The signal would be to strike fire with flint and steel three
times, which was not too conspicuous and yet distinctive enough for
recognition.
"San Martin,=
the
great Liberator, loved men of audacity and courage. Besides, he was just and
compassionate. I told him as much of the man's story as I knew, and was ord=
ered
to accompany him on the appointed night. The signals were duly exchanged. It
was midnight, and the whole town was dark and silent. Their two cloaked fig=
ures
came together in the centre of the vast Plaza, and, keeping discreetly at a
distance, I listened for an hour or more to the murmur of their voices. Then
the general motioned me to approach; and as I did so I heard San Martin, who
was courteous to gentle and simple alike, offer Gaspar Ruiz the hospitality=
of
the headquarters for the night. But the soldier refused, saying that he wou=
ld
not be worthy of that honour till he had done something.
"'You cannot
have a common deserter for your guest, Excellency,' he protested with a low
laugh, and stepping backwards, merged slowly into the night.
"The
Commander-in-Chief observed to me, as we turned away: 'He had somebody with
him, our friend Ruiz. I saw two figures for a moment. It was an unobtrusive
companion.'
"I too had
observed another figure join the vanishing form of Gaspar Ruiz. It had the
appearance of a short fellow in a poncho and a big hat. And I wondered stup=
idly
who it could be he had dared take into his confidence. I might have guessed=
it
could be no one but that fatal girl--alas!
"Where he ke=
pt
her concealed I do not know. He had--it was known afterwards--an uncle, his
mother's brother, a small shopkeeper in Santiago. Perhaps it was there that=
she
found a roof and food. Whatever she found, it was poor enough to exasperate=
her
pride and keep up her anger and hate. It is certain she did not accompany h=
im
on the feat he undertook to accomplish first of all. It was nothing less th=
an
the destruction of a store of war material collected secretly by the Spanis=
h authorities
in the south, in a town called Linares. Gaspar Ruiz was entrusted with a sm=
all
party only, but they proved themselves worthy of San Martin's confidence. T=
he
season was not propitious. They had to swim swollen rivers. They seemed,
however, to have galloped night and day, outriding the news of their foray,=
and
holding straight for the town, a hundred miles into the enemy's country, ti=
ll
at break of day they rode into it sword in hand, surprising the little
garrison. It fled without making a stand, leaving most of its officers in
Gaspar Ruiz' hands.
"A great
explosion of gunpowder ended the conflagration of the magazines the raiders=
had
set on fire without loss of time. In less than six hours they were riding a=
way
at the same mad speed, without the loss of a single man. Good as they were,
such an exploit is not performed without a still better leadership.
"I was dinin=
g at
the headquarters when Gas-par Ruiz himself brought the news of his success.=
And
it was a great blow to the Royalist troops. For a proof he displayed to us =
the
garrison's flag. He took it from under his poncho and flung it on the table.
The man was transfigured; there was something exulting and menacing in the
expression of his face. He stood behind General San Martin's chair and look=
ed
proudly at us all. He had a round blue cap edged with silver braid on his h=
ead,
and we all could see a large white scar on the nape of his sunburnt neck.
"Somebody as=
ked
him what he had done with the captured Spanish officers.
"He shrugged=
his
shoulders scornfully. 'What a question to ask! In a partisan war you do not
burden yourself with prisoners. I let them go--and here are their sword-kno=
ts.'
"He flung a
bunch of them on the table upon the flag. Then General Robles, whom I was
attending there, spoke up in his loud, thick voice: 'You did! Then, my brave
friend, you do not know yet how a war like ours ought to be conducted. You
should have done--this.' And he passed the edge of his hand across his own
throat.
"Alas, senor=
es!
It was only too true that on both sides this contest, in its nature so hero=
ic,
was stained by ferocity. The murmurs that arose at General Robles' words we=
re
by no means unanimous in tone. But the generous and brave San Martin praised
the humane action, and pointed out to Ruiz a place on his right hand. Then
rising with a full glass he proposed a toast: 'Caballeros and comrades-in-a=
rms,
let us drink the health of Captain Gaspar Ruiz.' And when we had emptied our
glasses: 'I intend,' the Commander-in-Chief continued, 'to entrust him with=
the
guardianship of our southern frontier, while we go afar to liberate our bre=
thren
in Peru. He whom the enemy could not stop from striking a blow at his very
heart will know how to protect the peaceful populations we leave behind us =
to
pursue our sacred task.' And he embraced the silent Gaspar Ruiz by his side=
.
"Later on, w=
hen
we all rose from table, I approached the latest officer of the army with my
congratulations. 'And, Captain Ruiz,' I added, 'perhaps you do not mind tel=
ling
a man who has always believed in the uprightness of your character, what be=
came
of Doña Erminia on that night?'
"At this fri=
endly
question his aspect changed. He looked at me from under his eyebrows with t=
he
heavy, dull glance of a guasso--of a peasant.
"Senor
teniente,' he said thickly, and as if very much cast down, 'do not ask me a=
bout
the senorita, for I prefer not to think about her at all when I am amongst
you.'
"He looked, =
with
a frown, all about the room, full of smoking and talking officers. Of cours=
e I
did not insist.
"These, seno=
res,
were the last words I was to hear him utter for a long, long time. The very
next day we embarked for our arduous expedition to Peru, and we only heard =
of
Gaspar Ruiz' doings in the midst of battles of our own. He had been appoint=
ed
military guardian of our southern province. He raised a partida. But his
leniency to the conquered foe displeased the Civil Governor, who was a form=
al,
uneasy man, full of suspicions. He forwarded reports against Gaspar Ruiz to=
the
Supreme Government; one of them being that he had married publicly, with gr=
eat pomp,
a woman of Royalist tendencies. Quarrels were sure to arise between these t=
wo
men of very different character. At last the Civil Governor began to compla=
in
of his inactivity, and to hint at treachery, which, he wrote, would be not
surprising in a man of such antecedents. Gaspar Ruiz heard of it. His rage
flamed up, and the woman ever by his side knew how to feed it with perfidio=
us
words. I do not know whether really the Supreme Government ever did--as he
complained afterwards--send orders for his arrest. It seems certain that th=
e Civil
Governor began to tamper with his officers, and that Gaspar Ruiz discovered=
the
fact.
"One evening,
when the Governor was giving a tertullia Gaspar Ruiz, followed by six men he
could trust, appeared riding through the town to the door of the Government
House, and entered the sala armed, his hat on his head. As the Governor,
displeased, advanced to meet him, he seized the wretched man round the body,
carried him off from the midst of the appalled guests, as though he were a
child, and flung him down the outer steps into the street. An angry hug from
Gaspar Ruiz was enough to crush the life out of a giant; but in addition Ga=
spar
Ruiz' horsemen fired their pistols at the body of the Governor as it lay
motionless at the bottom of the stairs."
X
"AFTER this-=
-as
he called it--act of justice, Ruiz crossed the Rio Blanco, followed by the
greater part of his band, and entrenched himself upon a hill A company of
regular troops sent out foolishly against him was surrounded, and destroyed
almost to a man. Other expeditions, though better organised, were equally
unsuccessful.
"It was duri=
ng
these sanguinary skirmishes that his wife first began to appear on horsebac=
k at
his right hand. Rendered proud and self-confident by his successes, Ruiz no
longer charged at the head of his partida, but presumptuously, like a gener=
al
directing the movements of an army, he remained in the rear, well mounted a=
nd
motionless on an eminence, sending out his orders. She was seen repeatedly =
at
his side, and for a long time was mistaken for a man. There was much talk t=
hen
of a mysterious white-faced chief, to whom the defeats of our troops were a=
scribed.
She rode like an Indian woman, astride, wearing a broad-rimmed man's hat an=
d a
dark poncho. Afterwards, in the day of their greatest prosperity, this ponc=
ho
was embroidered in gold, and she wore then, also, the sword of poor Don Ant=
onio
de Leyva. This veteran Chilean officer, having the misfortune to be surroun=
ded
with his small force, and running short of ammunition, found his death at t=
he
hands of the Arauco Indians, the allies and auxiliaries of Gaspar Ruiz. This
was the fatal affair long remembered afterwards as the 'Massacre of the
Island.' The sword of the unhappy officer was presented to her by Peneleo, =
the Araucanian
chief; for these Indians, struck by her aspect, the deathly pallor of her f=
ace,
which no exposure to the weather seemed to affect, and her calm indifference
under fire, looked upon her as a supernatural being, or at least as a witch=
. By
this superstition the prestige and authority of Gaspar Ruiz amongst these
ignorant people were greatly augmented. She must have savoured her vengeanc=
e to
the full on that day when she buckled on the sword of Don Antonio de Leyva.=
It
never left her side, unless she put on her woman's clothes--not that she wo=
uld
or could ever use it, but she loved to feel it beating upon her thigh as a
perpetual reminder and symbol of the dishonour to the arms of the Republic.=
She
was insatiable. Moreover, on the path she had led Gaspar Ruiz upon, there i=
s no
stopping. Escaped prisoners--and they were not many--used to relate how wit=
h a
few whispered words she could change the expression of his face and revive =
his
flagging animosity. They told how after every skirmish, after every raid, a=
fter
every successful action, he would ride up to her and look into her face. Its
haughty-calm was never relaxed. Her embrace, senores, must have been as col=
d as
the embrace of a statue. He tried to melt her icy heart in a stream of warm=
blood. Some Engli=
sh
naval officers who visited him at that time noticed the strange character of
his infatuation."
At the movement of
surprise and curiosity in his audience General Santierra paused for a momen=
t.
"Yes--English
naval officers," he repeated. "Ruiz had consented to receive them=
to
arrange for the liberation of some prisoners of your nationality. In the
territory upon which he ranged, from sea coast to the Cordillera, there was=
a
bay where the ships of that time, after rounding Gape Horn, used to resort =
for
wood and water. There, decoying the crew on shore, he captured first the
whaling brig Hersalia, and afterwards made himself master by surprise of two
more ships, one English and one American.
"It was rumo=
ured
at the time that he dreamed of setting up a navy of his own. But that, of
course, was impossible. Still, manning the brig with part of her own crew, =
and
putting an officer and a good many men of his own on board, he sent her off=
to
the Spanish Governor of the island of Chiloe with a report of his exploits,=
and
a demand for assistance in the war against the rebels. The Governor could n=
ot
do much for him; but he sent in return two light field-pieces, a letter of
compliments, with a colonel's commission in the royal forces, and a great
Spanish flag. This standard with much ceremony was hoisted over his house in
the heart of the Arauco country. Surely on that day she may have smiled on =
her
guasso husband with a less haughty reserve.
"The senior
officer of the English squadron on our coast made representations to our
Government as to these captures. But Gaspar Ruiz refused to treat with us. =
Then
an English frigate proceeded to the bay, and her captain, doctor, and two
lieutenants travelled inland under a safe conduct. They were well received,=
and
spent three days as guests of the partisan chief. A sort of military, barba=
ric
state was kept up at the residence. It was furnished with the loot of front=
ier
towns. When first admitted to the principal sala, they saw his wife lying d=
own
(she was not in good health then), with Gaspar Ruiz sitting at the foot of =
the
couch. His-hat was lying on the floor, and his hands reposed on the hilt of=
his
sword.
"During that
first conversation he never removed his big hands from the sword-hilt, exce=
pt
once, to arrange the coverings about her, with gentle, careful touches. They
noticed that when ever she spoke he would fix his eyes upon her in a kind of
expectant, breathless attention, and seemingly forget the existence of the
world and his own existence too. In the course of the farewell banquet, at
which she was present reclining on her couch, he burst forth into complaint=
s of
the treatment he had received. After General San Martin's departure he had =
been
beset by spies, slandered by civil officials, his services ignored, his lib=
erty
and even his life threatened by the Chilian Government. He got up from the
table, thundered execrations pacing the room wildly, then sat down on the c=
ouch
at his wife's feet, his breast heaving, his eyes fixed on the floor. She
reclined on her back, her head on the cushions, her eyes nearly closed.
"'And now I =
am
an honoured Spanish officer,' he added in a calm voice.
"The captain=
of
the English frigate then took the opportunity to inform him gently that Lima
had fallen, and that by the terms of a convention the Spaniards were
withdrawing from the whole continent.
"Gaspar Ruiz
raised his head, and without hesitation, speaking with suppressed vehemence,
declared, that if not a single Spanish soldier were left in the whole of So=
uth
America he would persist in carrying on the contest against Chile to the la=
st
drop of blood. When he finished that mad tirade his wife's long white hand =
was
raised, and she just caressed his knee with the tips of her fingers for a
fraction of a second.
"For the res=
t of
the officers' stay, which did not extend for more than half an hour after t=
he
banquet, that ferocious chieftain of a desperate partida overflowed with
amiability and kindness. He had been hospitable before, but now it seemed as
though he could not do enough for the comfort and safety of his visitors' j=
ourney
back to their ship.
"Nothing, I =
have
been told, could have presented a greater contrast to his late violence or =
the
habitual taciturn reserve of his manner. Like a man elated beyond measure b=
y an
unexpected happiness, he overflowed with good-will, amiability, and attenti=
ons.
He embraced the officers like brothers, almost with tears in his eyes. The
released prisoners were presented each with a piece of gold. At the last
moment, suddenly, he declared he could do no less than restore to the maste=
rs
of the merchant vessels all their private property. This unexpected generos=
ity
caused some delay in the departure of the party, and their first march was =
very
short.
"Late in the
evening Gaspar Ruiz rode up with an escort, to their camp fires, bringing a=
long
with him a mule loaded with cases of wine. He had come, he said, to drink a
stirrup cup with his English friends, whom he would never see again. He was
mellow and joyous in his temper. He told stories of his own exploits, laugh=
ed
like a boy, borrowed a guitar from the Englishmen's chief muleteer, and sit=
ting
cross-legged on his superfine poncho spread before the glow of the embers, =
sang
a guasso love-song in a tender voice. Then his head dropped on his breast, =
his hands
fell to the ground; the guitar rolled off his knees--and a great hush fell =
over
the camp after the love-song of the implacable partisan who had made so man=
y of
our people weep for destroyed homes and for loves cut short.
"Before anyb=
ody
could make a sound he sprang up from the ground and called for his horse.
'Adios, my friends!' he cried, 'Go with God. I love you. And tell them well=
in
Santiago that between Gaspar Ruiz, colonel of the King of Spain, and the
republican carrion-crows of Chile there is war to the last breath--war! war!
war!'
"With a great
yell of 'War! war! war!' which his escort took up, they rode away, and the
sound of hoofs and of voices died out in the distance between the slopes of=
the
hills.
"The two you=
ng
English officers were convinced that Ruiz was mad. How do you say that?--ti=
le
loose--eh? But the doctor, an observant Scotsman with much shrewdness and
philosophy in his character, told me that it was a very curious case of
possession. I met him many years afterwards, but he remembered the experien=
ce
very well. He told me too that in his opinion that woman did not lead Gaspar
Ruiz into the practice of sanguinary treachery by direct persuasion, but by=
the
subtle way of awakening and keeping alive in his simple mind a burning sens=
e of
an irreparable wrong. Maybe, maybe. But I would say that she poured half of=
her
vengeful soul into the strong clay of that man, as you may pour intoxicatio=
n,
madness, poison into an empty cup.
"If he wanted
war he got it in earnest when our victorious army began to return from Peru.
Systematic operations were planned against this blot on the honour and
prosperity of our hardly-won independence. General Robles commanded, with h=
is
well-known ruthless severity. Savage reprisals were exercised on both sides,
and no quarter was given in the field. Having won my promotion in the Peru
campaign, I was a captain on the staff.
"Gaspar Ruiz
found himself hard pressed; at the same time we heard by means of a fugitive
priest who had been carried off from his village presbytery, and galloped
eighty miles into the hills to perform the christening ceremony, that a
daughter was born to them. To celebrate the event, I suppose, Ruiz executed=
one
or two brilliant forays clear away at the rear of our forces, and defeated =
the
detachments sent out to cut off his retreat. General Robles nearly had a st=
roke
of apoplexy from rage. He found another cause of insomnia than the bites of
mosquitoes; but against this one, senores, tumblers of raw brandy had no mo=
re
effect than so much water. He took to railing and storming at me about my s=
trong
man. And from our impatience to end this inglorious campaign, I am afraid t=
hat
we young officers became reckless and apt to take undue risks on service.
"Nevertheles=
s,
slowly, inch by inch as it were, our columns were closing upon Gaspar Ruiz,
though he had managed to raise all the Araucanian nation of wild Indians
against us. Then a year or more later our Government became aware through i=
ts
agents and spies that he had actually entered into alliance with Carreras, =
the
so-called dictator of the so-called republic of Mendoza, on the other side =
of
the mountains. Whether Gaspar Ruiz had a deep political intention, or wheth=
er
he wished only to secure a safe retreat for his wife and child while he pur=
sued
remorselessly against us his war of surprises and massacres, I cannot tell.=
The
alliance, however, was a fact. Defeated in his attempt to check our advance
from the sea, he retreated with his usual swiftness, and preparing for anot=
her
hard and hazardous tussle began by sending his wife with the little girl ac=
ross
the Pequena range of mountains, on the frontier of Mendoza."
XI
"Now Carrera=
s,
under the guise of politics and liberalism, was a scoundrel of the deepest =
dye,
and the unhappy state of Mendoza was the prey of thieves, robbers, traitors=
and
murderers, who formed his party. He was under a noble exterior a man without
heart, pity, honour, or conscience. Tie aspired to nothing but tyranny, and
though he would have made use of Gaspar Ruiz for his nefarious designs, yet=
he
soon became aware that to propitiate the Chilian Government would answer his
purpose better. I blush to say that he made proposals to our Government to =
deliver
up on certain conditions the wife and child of the man who had trusted to h=
is
honour, and that this offer was accepted.
"While on her
way to Mendoza over the Pequena pass she was betrayed by her escort of
Carreras' men, and given up to the officer in command of a Chilian fort on =
the
upland at the foot of the main Cordillera range. This atrocious transaction
might have cost me dear, for as a matter of fact I was a prisoner in Gaspar
Ruiz' camp when he received the news. I had been captured during a
reconnaissance, my escort of a few troopers being speared by the Indians of=
his
bodyguard. I was saved from the same fate because he recognised my features
just in time. No doubt my friends thought I was dead, and I would not have
given much for my life at any time. But the strong man treated me very well,
because, he said, I had always believed in his innocence and had tried to s=
erve
him when he was a victim of injustice.
"'And now,' =
was
his speech to me, 'you shall see that I always speak the truth. You are saf=
e.'
"I did not t=
hink
I was very safe when I was called up to go to him one night. He paced up and
down like a wild beast, exclaiming, 'Betrayed! Betrayed!'
"He walked u=
p to
me clenching his fists. 'I could cut your throat.'
"'Will that =
give
your wife back to you?' I said as quietly as I could.
"'And the
child!' he yelled out, as if mad. He fell into a chair and laughed in a
frightful, boisterous manner. 'Oh, no, you are safe.'
"I assured h=
im
that his wife's life was safe too; but I did not say what I was convinced
of--that he would never see her again. He wanted war to the death, and the =
war
could only end with his death.
"He gave me a
strange, inexplicable look, and sat muttering blankly. 'In their hands. In
their hands.'
"I kept as s=
till
as a mouse before a cat. Suddenly he jumped up. 'What am I doing here?' he
cried; and opening the door, he yelled out orders to saddle and mount. 'Wha=
t is
it?' he stammered, coming up to me. 'The Pequena fort; a fort of palisades!
Nothing. I would get her back if she were hidden in the very heart of the
mountain.' He amazed me by adding, with an effort: 'I carried her off in my=
two
arms while the earth trembled. And the child at least is mine. She at least=
is
mine!'
"Those were
bizarre words; but I had no time for wonder.
"'You shall =
go
with me;' he said violently. 'I may want to parley, and any other messenger
from Ruiz, the outlaw, would have his throat cut.'
"This was tr=
ue
enough. Between him and the rest of incensed mankind there could be no
communication, according to the customs of honour-able warfare.
"In less than
half an hour we were in the saddle, flying wildly through the night. He had
only an escort of twenty men at his quarters, but would not wait for more. =
He
sent, however, messengers to Peneleo, the Indian chief then ranging in the
foothills, directing him to bring his warriors to the uplands and meet him =
at
the lake called the Eye of Water, near whose shores the frontier fort of
Pequena was built.
"We crossed =
the
lowlands with that untired rapidity of movement which had made Gaspar Ruiz'
raids so famous. We followed the lower valleys up to their precipitous head=
s.
The ride was not without its dangers. A cornice road on a perpendicular wal=
l of
basalt wound itself around a buttressing rock, and at last we emerged from =
the
gloom of a deep gorge upon the upland of Peeña.
"It was a pl=
ain
of green wiry grass and thin flowering bushes; but high above our heads pat=
ches
of snow hung in the folds and crevices of the great walls of rock. The litt=
le
lake was as round as a staring eye. The garrison of the fort were just driv=
ing
in their small herd of cattle when we appeared. Then the great wooden gates
swung to, and that four-square enclosure of broad blackened stakes pointed =
at
the top and barely hiding the grass roofs of the huts inside, seemed desert=
ed, empty,
without a single soul.
"But when
summoned to surrender, by a man who at Gaspar Ruiz' order rode fearlessly
forward, those inside answered by a volley which rolled him and his horse o=
ver.
I heard Ruiz by my side grind his teeth. 'It does not matter,' he said. 'Now
you go.'
"Torn and fa=
ded
as its rags were, the vestiges of my uniform were recognised, and I was all=
owed
to approach within speaking distance; and then I had to wait, because a voi=
ce
clamouring through a loophole with joy and astonishment would not allow me =
to
place a word. It was the voice of Major Pajol, an old friend. He, like my o=
ther
comrades, had thought me killed a long time ago.
"'Put spurs =
to
your horse, man!' he yelled, in the greatest excitement; 'we will swing the
gate open for you.'
"I let the r=
eins
fall out of my hand and shook my head. 'I am on my honour,' I cried.
"'To him!' he
shouted, with infinite disgust.'
"'He promises
you your life.'
"'Our life is
our own. And do you, Santierra, advise us to surrender to that rastrero?'
"'No!' I
shouted. 'But he wants his wife and child, and he can cut you off from wate=
r.'
"'Then she w=
ould
be the first to suffer. You may tell him that. Look here--this is all nonse=
nse:
we shall dash out and capture you.
"'You shall =
not
catch me alive,' I said firmly.
"'Imbecile!'=
"'For God's
sake,' I continued hastily, 'do not open the gate.' And I pointed at the
multitude of Peneleo's Indians who covered the shores of the lake.
"I had never
seen so many of these savages together. Their lances seemed as numerous as
stalks of grass. Their hoarse voices made a vast, inarticulate sound like t=
he
murmur of the sea.
"My friend P=
ajol
was swearing to himself. 'Well, then--go to the devil!' he shouted,
exasperated. But as I swung round he repented, for I heard him say hurriedl=
y,
'Shoot the fool's horse before he gets away.
"He had good
marksmen. Two shots rang out, and in the very act of turning my horse
staggered, fell and lay still as if struck by lightning. I had my feet out =
of
the stirrups and rolled clear of him; but I did not attempt to rise. Neither
dared they rush out to drag me in.
"The masses =
of
Indians had begun to move upon the fort. They rode up in squadrons, trailing
their long chusos; then dismounted out of musket-shot, and, throwing off th=
eir
fur mantles, advanced naked to the attack, stamping their feet and shouting=
in
cadence. A sheet of flame ran three times along the face of the fort without
checking their steady march. They crowded right up to the very stakes,
flourishing their broad knives. But this palisade was not fastened together
with hide lashings in the usual way, but with long iron nails, which they c=
ould
not cut. Dismayed at the failure of their usual method of forcing an entran=
ce, the
heathen, who had marched so steadily against the musketry fire, broke and f=
led
under the volleys of the besieged.
"Directly th=
ey
had passed me on their advance I got up and rejoined Gaspar Ruiz on a low r=
idge
which jutted out upon the plain. The musketry of his own men had covered the
attack, but now at a sign from him a trumpet sounded the 'Cease fire.' Toge=
ther
we looked in silence at the hopeless rout of the savages.
"'It must be=
a
siege, then,' he muttered. And I detected him wringing his hands stealthily=
.
"But what so=
rt
of siege could it be? Without any need for me to repeat my friend Pajol's
message, he dared not cut the water off from the besieged. They had plenty =
of
meat. And, indeed, if they had been short, he would have been too anxious to
send food into the stockade had he been able. But, as a matter of fact, it =
was
we on the plain who were beginning to feel the pinch of hunger.
"Peneleo, the
Indian chief, sat by our fire folded in his ample mantle of guanaco skins. =
He
was an athletic savage, with an enormous square shock head of hair resembli=
ng a
straw beehive in shape and size, and with grave, surly, much-lined features=
. In
his broken Spanish he repeated, growling like a bad-tempered wild beast, th=
at
if an opening ever so small were made in the stockade his men would march in
and get the senora--not otherwise.
"Gaspar Ruiz,
sitting opposite him, kept his eyes fixed on the fort night and day as it w=
ere,
in awful silence and immobility. Meantime, by runners from the lowlands that
arrived nearly every day, we heard of the defeat of one of his lieutenants =
in
the Maipu valley. Scouts sent afar brought news of a column of infantry
advancing through distant passes to the relief of the fort. They were slow,=
but
we could trace their toilful progress up the lower valleys. I wondered why =
Ruiz
did not march to attack and destroy this threatening force, in some wild go=
rge
fit for an ambuscade, in accordance with his genius for guerrilla warfare. =
But
his genius seemed to have abandoned him to his despair.
"It was obvi=
ous
to me that he could not tear himself away from the sight of the fort. I pro=
test
to you, senores, that I was moved almost to pity by the sight of this power=
less
strong man sitting on the ridge, indifferent to sun, to rain, to cold, to w=
ind;
with his hands clasped round his legs and his chin resting on his knees, ga=
zing--gazing--gazing.
"And the for=
t he
kept his eyes fastened on was as still and silent as himself. The garrison =
gave
no sign of life. They did not even answer the desultory fire directed at the
loopholes.
"One night, =
as I
strolled past him, he, without changing his attitude, spoke to me unexpecte=
dly
'I have sent for a gun,' he said. 'I shall have time to get her back and
retreat before your Robles manages to crawl up here.'
"He had sent=
for
a gun to the plains.
"It was long=
in
coming, but at last it came. It was a seven-pounder field-gun. Dismounted a=
nd
lashed crosswise to two long poles, it had been carried up the narrow paths
between two mules with ease. His wild cry of exultation at daybreak when he=
saw
the gun escort emerge from the valley rings in my ears now.
"But, senore=
s, I
have no words to depict his amazement, his fury, his despair and distractio=
n,
when he heard that the animal loaded with the gun-carriage had, during the =
last
night march, somehow or other tumbled down a precipice. He broke into menac=
es
of death and torture against the escort. I kept out of his way all that day,
lying behind some bushes, and wondering what he would do now. Retreat was l=
eft
for him; but he could not retreat.
"I saw below=
me
his artillerist Jorge, an old Spanish soldier, building up a sort of struct=
ure
with heaped-up saddles. The gun, ready-loaded was lifted on to that, but in=
the
act of firing the whole thing collapsed and the shot flew high above the
stockade.
"Nothing more
was attempted. One of the ammunition mules had been lost too, and they had =
no
more than six shots to fire; amply enough to batter down the gate, providing
the gun was well laid. This was impossible without it being properly mounte=
d.
There was no time nor means to construct a carriage. Already every moment I
expected to hear Robles' bugle-calls echo amongst the crags.
"Peneleo,
wandering about uneasily, draped in his skins, sat down for a moment near me
growling his usual tale.
"'Make an
entrada--a hole. If make a hole, bueno. If not make a hole, them vamos--we =
must
go away.'
"After sunse=
t I
observed with surprise the Indians making preparations as if for another
assault. Their lines stood ranged in the shadows mountains. On the plain in
front of the fort gate I saw a group of men swaying about in the same place=
.
"I walked do=
wn the
ridge disregarded. The moonlight in the clear air of the uplands was as bri=
ght
as day, but the intense shadows confused my sight, and I could not make out
what they were doing. I heard voice Jorge, artillerist, say in a queer,
doubtful tone, 'It is loaded, senores.'
"Then another
voice in that group pronounced firmly the words, 'Bring the riata here.' It=
was
the voice of Gaspar Ruiz.
"A silence f=
ell,
in which the popping shots of the besieged garrison rang out sharply. They =
too
had observed the group. But the distance was too great, and in the spatter =
of
spent musket-balls cutting up the ground, the group opened, closed, swayed,
giving me a glimpse of busy stooping figures in its midst. I drew nearer,
doubting whether this was a weird vision, a suggestive and insensate dream.=
"A strangely
stifled voice commanded, 'Haul the hitches tighter.'
"'Si, senor,'
several other voices answered in tones of awed alacrity.
"Then the
stifled voice said: 'Like this. I must be free to breathe.'
"Then there =
was
a concerned noise of many men together. 'Help him up, hombres. Steady! Under
the other arm.'
"That deaden=
ed
voice, ordered: 'Bueno! Stand away from me, men.'
"I pushed my=
way
through the recoiling circle, and heard once more that same oppressed voice
saying earnestly: 'Forget that I am a living man, Jorge. Forget me altogeth=
er,
and think of what you have to do.'
"'Be without
fear, senor. You are nothing to me but a gun carriage, and I shall not wast=
e a
shot.'
"I heard the
spluttering of a port-fire, and smelt the saltpetre of the match. I saw
suddenly before me a nondescript shape on all fours like a beast, but with a
man's head drooping below a tubular projection over the nape of the neck, a=
nd
the gleam of a rounded mass of bronze on its back.
"In front of=
a
silent semicircle of men it squatted alone with Jorge behind it and a trump=
eter
motionless, his trumpet in his hand, by its side.
"Jorge, bent
double, muttered, port-fire in hand: 'An inch to the left, senor. Too much.=
So.
Now, if you let yourself down a little by letting your elbows bend, I will.=
..'
"He leaped
aside, lowering his port-fire, and a burst of flame darted out of the muzzl=
e of
the gun lashed on the man's back.
"Then Gaspar
Ruiz lowered himself slowly. 'Good shot?' he asked.
"'Full on, s=
enor.'
"'Then load
again.'
"He lay there
before me on his breast under the darkly glittering bronze of his monstrous
burden, such as no love or strength of man had ever had to bear in the
lamentable history of the world. His arms were spread out, and he resembled=
a
prostrate penitent on the moonlit ground.
"Again I saw=
him
raised to his hands and knees, and the men stand away from him, and old Jor=
ge
stoop, glancing along the gun.
"'Left a lit=
tle.
Right an inch. Por Dios, senor, stop this trembling. Where is your strength=
?'
"The old
gunner's voice was cracked with emotion. He stepped aside, and quick as
lightning brought the spark to the touch-hole.
"'Excellent!=
' he
cried tearfully; but Gaspar Ruiz lay for a long time silent, flattened on t=
he
ground.
"'I am tired=
,'
he murmured at last. 'Will another shot do it?'
"'Without
doubt,' said Jorge, bending down to his ear.
"'Then--load=
,' I
heard him utter distinctly. 'Trumpeter!'
"'I am here,
senor, ready for your word.'
"'Blow a bla=
st
at this word that shall be heard from one end of Chile to the other,' he sa=
id,
in an extraordinarily strong voice. 'And you others stand ready to cut this
accursed riata, for then will be the time for me to lead you in your rush. =
Now
raise me up, and, you, Jorge--be quick with your aim.'
"The rattle =
of
musketry from the fort nearly drowned his voice. The palisade was wreathed =
in
smoke and flame.
"'Exert your
force forward against the recoil, mi amo,' said the old gunner shakily. 'Dig
your fingers into the ground. So. Now!'
"A cry of
exultation escaped him after the shot. The trumpeter raised his trumpet nea=
rly
to his lips, and waited. But no word came from the prostrate man. I fell on=
one
knee, and heard all he had to say then.
"'Something
broken,' he whispered, lifting his head a little, and turning his eyes towa=
rds
me in his hopelessly crushed attitude.
"'The gate h=
angs
only by the splinters,' yelled Jorge.
"Gaspar Ruiz
tried to speak, but his voice died out in his throat, and I helped to roll =
the
gun off his broken back. He was insensible.
"I kept my l=
ips
shut, of course. The signal for the Indians to attack was never given. Inst=
ead,
the bugle-calls of the relieving force, for which my ears had thirsted so l=
ong,
burst out, terrifying like the call of the Last Day to our surprised enemie=
s.
"A tornado,
senores, a real hurricane of stampeded men, wild horses, mounted Indians, s=
wept
over me as I cowered on the ground by the side of Gaspar Ruiz, still stretc=
hed
out on his face in the shape of a cross. Peneleo, galloping for life, jabbe=
d at
me with his long chuso in passing--for the sake of old acquaintance, I supp=
ose.
How I escaped the flying lead is more difficult to explain. Venturing to ri=
se
on my knees too soon, some soldiers of the 17th Taltal regiment, in their h=
urry
to get at something alive, nearly bayonetted me on the spot. They looked ve=
ry
disappointed too when some officers galloping up drove them away with the f=
lat
of their swords.
"It was Gene=
ral
Robles with his staff. He wanted badly to make some prisoners. He, too, see=
med
disappointed for a moment. 'What? Is it you?' he cried. But he dismounted at
once to embrace me, for he was an old friend of my family. I pointed to the
body at our feet, and said only these two words:
"'Gaspar Rui=
z.'
"He threw his
arms up in astonishment.
"'Aha! Your
strong man! Always to the last with your strong man. No matter. He saved our
lives when the earth trembled enough to make the bravest faint with fear. I=
was
frightened out of my wits. But he--no! Que guape! Where's the hero who got =
the
best of him? Ha! ha! ha! What killed him, chico?'
"'His own
strength general,' I answered."
XII
"BUT Gaspar =
Ruiz
breathed yet. I had him carried in his poncho under the shelter of some bus=
hes
on the very ridge from which he had been gazing so fixedly at the fort while
unseen death was hovering already over his head.
"Our troops =
had
bivouacked round the fort. Towards daybreak I was not surprised to hear tha=
t I
was designated to command the escort of a prisoner who was to be sent down =
at
once to Santiago. Of course the prisoner was Gaspar Ruiz' wife.
"'I have nam=
ed
you out of regard for your feelings,' General Robles remarked. 'Though the
woman really ought to be shot for all the harm she has done to the Republic=
.'
"And as I ma=
de a
movement of shocked protest, he continued:
"'Now he is =
as
well as dead, she is of no importance. Nobody will know what to do with her.
However, the Government wants her.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'I suppose he
must have buried large quantities of his loot in places that she alone knows
of.'
"At dawn I s=
aw
her coming up the ridge, guarded by two soldiers, and carrying her child on=
her
arm.
"I walked to
meet her.
"'Is he livi=
ng
yet?' she asked, confronting me with that white, impassive face he used to =
look
at in an adoring way.
"I bent my h=
ead,
and led her round a clump of bushes without a word. His eyes were open. He
breathed with difficulty, and uttered her name with a great effort.
"'Erminia!'<= o:p>
"She knelt at
his head. The little girl, unconscious of him, and with her big eyes, looki=
ng
about, began to chatter suddenly, in a joyous, thin voice. She pointed a ti=
ny
finger at the rosy glow of sunrise behind the black shapes of the peaks. And
while that child-talk, incomprehensible and sweet to the ear, lasted, those=
two,
the dying man and the kneeling woman, remained silent, looking into each
other's eyes, listening to the frail sound. Then the prattle stopped. The c=
hild
laid its head against its mother's breast and was still.
"'It was for
you,' he began. 'Forgive.' His voice failed him. Presently I heard a mutter,
and caught the pitiful words: 'Not strong enough.'
"She looked =
at
him with an extraordinary intensity. He tried to smile, and in a humble ton=
e,
'Forgive me,' he repeated. 'Leaving you...'
"She bent do=
wn,
dry-eyed, and in a steady voice: 'On all the earth I have loved nothing but
you, Gaspar,' she said.
"His head ma=
de a
movement. His eyes revived. 'At last! 'he sighed out. Then, anxiously, 'But=
is
this true... is this true?'
"'As true as
that there is no mercy and justice in this world,' she answered him
passionately. She stooped over his face. He tried to raise his head, but it
fell back, and when she kissed his lips he was already dead. His glazed eyes
stared at the sky, on which pink clouds floated very high. But I noticed the
eyelids of the child, pressed to its mother's breast, droop and close slowl=
y.
She had gone to sleep.
"The widow of
Gaspar Ruiz, the strong man, allowed me to lead her away without shedding a
tear.
"For travell=
ing
we had arranged for her a side-saddle very much like a chair, with a board
swung beneath to rest her feet on. And the first day she rode without utter=
ing
a word, and hardly for one moment turning her eyes away from the little gir=
l,
whom she held on her knees. At our first camp I saw her during the night
walking about, rocking the child in her arms and gazing down at it by the l=
ight
of the moon. After we had started on our second day's march she asked me how
soon we should come to the first village of the inhabited country.
"I said we
should be there about noon.
"'And will t=
here
be women there?' she inquired.
"I told her =
that
it was a large village. 'There will be men and women there, senora,' I said,
'whose hearts shall be made glad by the news that all the unrest and war is
over now.'
"'Yes, it is=
all
over now,' she repeated. Then, after a time: 'senor officer, what will your
Government do with me?'
"'I do not k=
now,
senora,' I said. 'They will treat you well, no doubt. We republicans are not
savages, and take no vengeance on women.'
"She gave me=
a
look at the word 'republicans' which I imagined full of undying hate. But an
hour or so afterwards, as we drew up to let the baggage mules go first alon=
g a
narrow path skirting a precipice, she looked at me with such a white, troub=
led
face that I felt a great pity for her.
"'Senor
officer,' she said, 'I am weak, I tremble. It is an insensate fear.' And in=
deed
her lips did tremble, while she tried to smile glancing at the beginning of=
the
narrow path which was not so dangerous after all. 'I am afraid I shall drop=
the
child. Gaspar saved your life, you remember.... Take her from me.'
"I took the
child out of her extended arms. 'Shut your eyes, senora, and trust to your
mule,' I recommended.
"She did so,=
and
with her pallor and her wasted thin face she looked deathlike. At a turn of=
the
path, where a great crag of purple porphyry closes the view of the lowlands=
, I
saw her open her eyes. I rode just behind her holding the little girl with =
my
right arm. 'The child is all right,' I cried encouragingly.
"'Yes,' she
answered faintly; and then, to my intense terror, I saw her stand up on the
footrest, staring horribly, and throw herself forward into the chasm on our
right.
"I cannot
describe to you the sudden and abject fear that came over me at that dreadf=
ul
sight. It was a dread of the abyss, the dread of the crags which seemed to =
nod
upon me. My head swam. I pressed the child to my side and sat my horse as s=
till
as a statue. I was speechless and cold all over. Her mule staggered, sidling
close to the rock, and then went on. My horse only pricked up his ears with=
a
slight snort. My heart stood still, and from the depths of the precipice the
stones rattling in the bed of the furious stream made me almost insane with
their sound.
"Next moment=
we
were round the turn and on a broad and grassy slope. And then I yelled. My =
men
came running back to me in great alarm. It seems that at first I did nothing
but shout, 'She has given the child into my hands! She has given the child =
into
my hands!' The escort thought I had gone mad."
General Santierra
ceased and got up from the table. "And that is all, senores," he
concluded, with a courteous glance at his rising guests.
"But what be=
came
of the child, General?" we asked.
"Ah, the chi=
ld,
the child."
He walked to one =
of
the windows opening on his beautiful garden, the refuge of his old days. Its
fame was great in the land. Keeping us back with a raised arm, he called ou=
t,
"Erminia, Erminia!" and waited. Then his cautioning arm dropped, =
and
we crowded to the windows.
From a clump of t=
rees
a woman had come upon the broad walk bordered with flowers. We could hear t=
he
rustle of her starched petticoats and observed the ample spread of her
old-fashioned black silk skirt. She looked up, and seeing all these eyes
staring at her, stopped, frowned, smiled, shook her finger at the General, =
who
was laughing boisterously, and drawing the black lace on her head so as to
partly conceal her haughty profile, passed out of our sight, walking with s=
tiff
dignity.
"You have be=
held
the guardian angel of the old man--and her to whom you owe all that is seem=
ly
and comfortable in my hospitality. Somehow, senores, though the flame of lo=
ve
has been kindled early in my breast, I have never married. And because of t=
hat
perhaps the sparks of the sacred fire are not yet extinct here." He st=
ruck
his broad chest. "Still alive, still alive," he said, with
serio-comic emphasis. "But I shall not marry now. She is General
Santierra's adopted daughter and heiress."
One of our fellow=
-guests,
a young naval officer, described her afterwards as a "short, stout, old
girl of forty or thereabouts." We had all noticed that her hair was
turning grey, and that she had very fine black eyes.
"And,"
General Santierra continued, "neither would she ever hear of marrying =
any
one. A real calamity! Good, patient, devoted to the old man. A simple soul.=
But
I would not advise any of you to ask for her hand, for if she took yours in=
to
hers it would be only to crush your bones. Ah! she does not jest on that su=
bject.
And she is the own daughter of her father, the strong man who perished thro=
ugh
his own strength: the strength of his body, of his simplicity--of his
love!"