"Manuel," said the marquis, seeing a man busy planting onions in one of the garden beds, "go away."

The servant looked at him in surprise.

"Be off, man," he reiterated with increased severity. "Go somewhere else."

The servant then left the garden, casting looks of astonishment and curiosity behind him.

A place was chosen in one of the narrowest paths in the centre of the garden, and Soldevilla went to fetch the duke.

Dawn broke that day in a clear sky; but very early after sunrise heavy, dark clouds gathered over that part of the coast, threatening an early discharge of heavy rain.

The light grew dimmer and dimmer to an extraordinary degree until it waned to a misty gray.

The duke appeared in a black frock coat and broad-brimmed hat, rather paler than usual, but affecting a calm disdain, coupled with his usual courtesy. He had a fragrant cigar in his mouth with which he enveloped himself in light clouds of smoke as he walked by the side of Soldevilla.

Arriving at the appointed spot he gave a cold ceremonious greeting to the group of Gonzalo and his seconds, and vouchsafed them no further glance. After a few minutes' conference Pena put Gonzalo in position and handed him a loaded pistol. Soldevilla did the same with the duke. They had both removed their hats. The grandee retained his cigar in his left hand, and, with an impa.s.sibility which savored of the theatrical, he gave long puffs at it. Great drops of rain, heralding a sharp shower, began to fall; and Pena finally called out:

"Gentlemen, are you ready? One, two, three!--fire!"

The duke inclined his pistol and aimed. Gonzalo, also aiming, came forward with a pale face and with his eyes starting with fury.

His opponent waited until he arrived within fifteen paces with calmness, and moreover with the certainty of victory, for he was a consummate shot, and then fired.

The ball grazed the young man's cheek, piercing his skin and making it bleed; he stopped an instant, and then continued advancing. The seconds turned terribly pale. The duke dropped his pistol and stood awaiting his death with a bravery tinged with affectation and pride.

Gonzalo came forward precipitately until within two steps from his adversary. At that moment a rush of blood blinded him; his athletic temperament overcame his reason, his eyes shone with the glaring look of a wild beast, his lips trembled, his face contracted in a fearful manner, and, casting the pistol far from him, he leaped upon the traitor like a tiger. The duke, unable to resist the shock of the Colossus, was leveled to the ground. Then, roaring with rage, Gonzalo proceeded to kick him in the ribs. The seconds rushed to stop him, and the choleric Golarza caught him a blow on the head, to which Gonzalo seemed quite oblivious. Pena, indignant, raised his stick and directed a blow at Golarza. The Marquis of Soldevilla then gave another to Pena; and the whole party, mad with fury, began a hand-to-hand fight, while Gonzalo, satiating his pent-up thirst for vengeance, reveled in pummeling the well-nigh inert form of the duke.

At that moment the clouds burst in a downpour of rain, which became so heavy that the Marquis of Soldevilla quitted the field and repaired to the house for shelter.

The circle broke up as if by magic, for Don Rudesindo and Pena and Golarza followed his example.

However, before going off, it occurred to them to look and see how their chiefs were getting on.

And by a unanimous movement of compa.s.sion, they seized hold of Gonzalo, whose mad rage was not yet exhausted.

The grip of the gentlemen brought him back to reason. He gave one long, sinister, astonished look, and then, without saying a word, he seized his hat and turned to the gate of the estate, while the duke was carried to the house in a dying condition.

The doctor summoned by Soldevilla (he had been shut up in a room during the duel, so as to avoid being present) now made a careful examination of the wounds and contusions of the injured man, and then declared his condition very serious.

Pena and Don Rudesindo found Gonzalo in the carriage weeping in despair.

"I am a brute!" he said--"a brute! What will you think of me? I have committed a shameful deed. Forgive me."

The friends did their best to calm him. In truth neither of them was so shocked; for, after all, the conduct of the duke had been so villainous that it deserved a villainous chastis.e.m.e.nt.

Pena during the drive even cut jokes on the splendid trouncing administered to the grandee.

"There is no doubt, my boy, that grandees of strength can do more than grandees of rank," he said in his bell-like voice, enunciating every letter.

Gonzalo, like a great child that he was, pa.s.sed from crying to laughing, and after the first smile he gave long and loud guffaws at his friends'

jokes.

But the sight of his father-in-law's house plunged him again into depression. He had satisfied his righteous anger, but there remained a deep wound, of the anguish of which he had not yet been conscious, as long as it had been stifled by the excitement of the rage which had consumed him during those two days. Oh! those grotesque little towers and minarets, witnesses of his honeymoon; they made him so melancholy that it seemed as if some cruel hand were clutching at his heart within his breast. His friends, divining his wish to be alone, went on to Sarrio. Pablito was waiting for him at the house gate, and embraced him effusively and enthusiastically.

"Have you killed him?" he asked in a low voice.

"I don't know--I think so," returned the young man in a still lower tone. "And your father?"

"My father--he was here an instant ago--as soon as he saw you get out of the carriage safe and sound he got into the landau, which was waiting, ready, and went off to Sarrio."

Gonzalo guessed the purport of Don Rosendo's journey, and his gloominess increased.

The two brothers-in-law then proceeded in silence to the house, and straight up to Gonzalo's room.

At the end of some moments, after throwing himself on the sofa and remaining motionless with his head sunk on his chest, he said to Pablito:

"Forgive me, Pablo--but I want to be left alone, I am not equal to talking now."

So the brother-in-law withdrew.

At the end of some time, the door was reopened without the young man noticing it, and a shadow slipped toward him and placed upon the nearest chair a tray with a cup and some plates.

"Oh, is that you, Cecilia?"

"Whether you like it or not, you must take something, for I am certain you have not broken your fast," said the girl, dragging a little table forward and placing the steaming soup upon it.

"How good you are, Cecilia!" he exclaimed, seizing one of her hands.

That exclamation was a cry of affection and enthusiasm, mingled with remorse that he had ever been able to doubt her.

"How good you are! How good you are!" he repeated with tears in his eyes. "What you did that night! Oh! n.o.body else would have done it, n.o.body else! A saint descended from heaven would not have done it--none of those living about you are worthy to kiss the dust from your feet."

And the young man, moved by his own words, sobbed bitterly while covering the hand he held with tears and kisses.

Cecilia, after turning first deep scarlet and then pale, said in a somewhat cold and distant tone:

"Let go, let go," and at the same time quickly withdrew her hand.

Seeing that her brother-in-law was somewhat hurt, she hastened to add:

"Look here, the less we talk of these things, and, if possible, the less we think of them, the better. The thing is now for you to take the soup.

Then I will bring you some biscuits and a sandwich--you will like that?"

"I have no appet.i.te, Cecilia," he replied, making an effort to control his emotion.

"You must try--"

"No, no; really I can not swallow anything just now."

"But if I ask you?" said the girl, and as she spoke a flush suffused her face.