"You are accused of serving as intermediary in the correspondence between the Marques de Revollar, Don Carlos's minister and counsellor, and the ringleader, Don Cesar Pardo, lately exiled by virtue of sentence of the counsel of war, which met on the 14th of March. Moreover, you are accused of having been present as an active partic.i.p.ant at various meetings held by the conspirators of Nieva, with the a.s.sistance of the same ringleaders who escaped, and various other political criminals. In these meetings you have indulged in speech fomenting rebellion, and making suggestions to help its success. It is said that you embroidered the banner for the rebels, and have hidden hats and spatterdashes in your house, and likewise have procured money for the conspirators...."

The prosecutor stopped speaking. There were a few instants of silence.

The brigadier impatiently said,--"Come.... Reply! Are the deeds of which you stand accused true?"

Maria, with her clear gaze fastened on the president's supercilious face, replied in firm, calm accents:--

"All that the Senor Fiscal has just set forth is pure truth, and I take the warmest pride in it. It is true that I have served as intermediary in the correspondence between my n.o.ble uncle, the Marques de Revollar, and the brave Don Cesar Pardo (whom may G.o.d take to glory!). It is certain that I have been present at the meetings, where a conspiracy was planned against the impious government now existing, and that I have endeavored, with my feeble speech, to stir the conspirators to the combat, and it is equally certain that I embroidered the banner and other articles for the defenders of the faith. It is likewise true that I have furnished all the money that I could, but it is not enough to say that I hid in my father's house hats and spatterdashes: I have also hidden arms, muskets, and their bayonets and ammunition."

The officers of the council were stupefied. The brigadier himself, in spite of his choleric temper, remained for some instants dumb before the girl's audacity. But if they had known her as we know her, it is certain that they would not have had reason to be surprised. The eldest daughter of the Elorzas had entered into the Carlist conspiracy, completely persuaded that she was accomplishing a work very grateful in the eyes of G.o.d, and she had firmly determined not to turn back before any danger.

Her ardent, all-powerful faith was eager to find means to serve Him, and moreover the longing for imitation, for which we have already given her credit, impelled her to imitate the conduct of those sainted virgins who fought against the power of the cruellest tyrants, and gave a glorious example of constancy in times of persecution. She knew by heart the lives of Saint Leocadia, Saint Barbara, Saint Julia, Saint Eulalia, and other ill.u.s.trious martyrs of the Christian faith, and their steadfastness was for her an example and further incentive in the road to sanct.i.ty upon which she had entered. Countless times she had imagined scenes of martyrdom in which she was the princ.i.p.al personage, and in which she had always come forth conqueror; just as many men fond of battles, dream that they are fighting with a dozen champions and making them run ignominiously, and others enamored of oratory represent themselves as speaking before mult.i.tudes, moving them and carrying them away by their eloquence. With what admiration had she read about the flight of the sainted maiden of Merida, from the battlefield of her fathers to the city where she presented herself voluntarily before the governor Calfurniano to confess her faith, and ask a martyr's death! In the march which she had just made from Nieva, she had many times recalled the details of that memorable flight, gladly seeing in it a certain a.n.a.logy with that of the saint. Now that she saw herself in the presence of stern, angry judges, she found the resemblance still more striking, and this encouraged her, in no small degree, in her determination to stand firm in spite of danger.

The brigadier, who was not very well informed in regard to what had happened to Saint Eulalia at the hands of Calfurniano, believed honestly that the silly girl was ridiculing him, and, giving a tremendous rap on the table with his fist, he shouted:--

"Listen, senorita, do you know with whom you are talking? Do you know that I am the military governor of the province, and that I have never had any decided fondness for jests? Do you know what risk you run at making sport of this most dignified council of war, over which at this moment I preside? Do you know that I have a mind to send you to prison, and shut you up in a cell, and keep you there on bread and water until you rotted? Did you know it? heh!... Did you know it? heh!... heh?...

heh?..."

"I know perfectly," replied Maria in steady, but modest tone, "that I am in the presence of a council of war; but, though I were facing a battalion of soldiers, aiming at me with their guns, I should say the same thing without dropping or adding a letter. I am not accustomed to tell falsehoods, and when it concerns acts which may be some service to the cause of G.o.d, I should be unworthy of calling myself a Christian, if I denied them in the presence of any one."

"And what is it that you call the cause of G.o.d, my beautiful senorita?"

asked the brigadier with apparent calmness, while his eyes flashed lightnings of wrath.

"I call the cause of G.o.d that which is at the present time represented by the legitimate and Catholic king, around whom are collected all those who feel scandalized to see religion persecuted and its ministers molested; those who mourn at seeing the infamous blasphemies uttered in Congress, and daily spread broadcast by the journals; those who do not wish to see impiety enthroned in Spain, the Catholic land, above all others, granted by G.o.d one single faith and one single worship."

The brigadier grew redder than a guindilla pepper; his lips trembled with wrath; he was about to make some shocking remark, but at last he controlled himself, and said to the prosecuting officer,--

"Continue your examination, Senor Capitan."

For the first time in his life the brigadier smothered his barbarous words. The fiscal, over whom the force of attraction for the opposite s.e.x had not yet lost its influence, perhaps from the reason that he was younger, continued, all the time softening his voice and sweetening the smile that distorted his countenance:--

"Very well; since you have the candor to confess that you have been a party to the conspiracy, let us hope that you will continue to be as frank, and tell us all its details and the names of the persons connected with it."

"Oh, no, ... that cannot be. I declare and confess my acts, but I cannot those of the others. Even if they granted me permission, be very sure that I would not do it, since it seems to me a sin to put into the hands of the impious arms to murder good Christians...."

"This cannot be allowed," vociferated the brigadier, overcome by wrath.

"Let us see, senorita; do you believe that I have not the means to make you tell the whole story?[68] Let us have the session in peace, and do you tell mighty quick what you know, for otherwise there'll be trouble [_mal_]; ... there'll be trrrouble [_maaal_]; ... there'll be trrrrrouble [_maaaaal_]...."

"Senor Presidente, I am not willing to say a single word that might compromise my friends, the pious and loyal defenders of the faith of Jesus Christ. Do with me whatsoever you will, but you must know that I shall accept with delight any chance to suffer something for Him who suffered so much for us."

"Heavens and earth!" [_Rayo de Dios!_] screamed the brigadier, giving another terrible pound to the table. "This child has put an end to my patience!... Orderly, see that this girl is instantly conducted to prison, and keep her in solitary confinement until further orders." The officials of the council, understanding that this would make a scandal without any result, put it before the governor in a whisper, and he became a little calmer. He himself understood it.

"You are right," he said aloud; "all the information that this girl can give is already known to us, and more too. I don't wish these scrubby Carlist newspapers to be saying that we lost our temper with a woman.... Harkee, orderly! see if this young woman's father is anywhere about, and have him brought in."

In a few moments Don Mariano entered.

"I find myself obliged to tell you, Senor de Elorza," said the brigadier, addressing him, "that you have a very ill-educated daughter, and that thanks to the fact of your not figuring as a Carlist and to our own benevolence, we do not adopt in her case the rigorous measures which she deserves for her boldness. You can take her home whenever you please, pledging yourself to us that she shall not directly or indirectly enter into any conspiracy or into anything of the like.... Do we agree?... Have a little more care of her if you don't want to expose her to greater tribulations, and don't let her go so free and easy as. .h.i.therto...."

Don Mariano almost spoiled everything by hurling an insult in that rough soldier's face; but the sorrows which he had been undergoing since the night before kept him very humble. Besides, he feared to compromise his daughter's situation, and seeing her free he had no wish to lose her again. Reserving, then, _in pectore_ for more favorable times, the right of demanding of the governor full satisfaction for his impudent words, he gave the promise demanded, and immediately pa.s.sed from the hall and from the building with Maria, and went to call upon one of his relatives. In the afternoon they set out for Nieva, reaching home just at nightfall.

CHAPTER XIV.

PALLIDA MORS.

When the carriage stopped, Don Mariano perceived by the face of the servant who came to open the door that nothing very delightful had occurred during his absence.

"The senora?" he asked in alarm.

"The senora is in bed."

"Oh, I might have known it! How could the poor soul have had strength to resist this blow!"

The faces of the other servants whom they met on the way had the same expression of silent solemnity, and this greatly increased his agitation. Maria followed him. When they reached Dona Gertrudis's room, they saw that there were a number of people in it who, on catching sight of them, came toward them with a warning gesture.

"What! Is she so ill?" exclaimed the unhappy Don Mariano, in a hoa.r.s.e, trembling voice.

"She is not very ill," said an officious lady: "but it is better that you should not enter so suddenly, for a powerful excitement might be bad for her. She has had a number of attacks since last night, and finds herself rather weak.... Let me prepare her."

The lady, in fact, went to tell Dona Gertrudis that her daughter was at liberty, and would soon be back to Nieva.

"My daughter is here!" cried the invalid, with that wonderful instinct of mothers and hysterical women.... Yes, she is here!... I know she is!... I see her.... Come, my daughter, come!"

And at the same time she made a desperate effort to sit up in bed. Maria entered her bedchamber, and kneeling beside the bed respectfully kissed the hands which her mother extended to her.

"Forgive me, mamma! forgive me for the anxiety which I caused you....

You were made ill because of me, but the Lord will soon make you well...."

"No, my daughter; you have done nothing that needs my forgiveness; you have done what G.o.d commanded.... It made me ill ... that is true ... but it is because I have not virtue enough, as you have, to suffer the trials G.o.d imposes upon us.... You are a saint.... I shall be well....

Don't worry about me.... What frightens me now is, that I did not die when I saw you marching off that way, among soldiers.... My poor daughter.... Come, give me a kiss!"

When Maria entered the bedroom, Ricardo and Marta were there; the girl seated near the pillow, and Ricardo at the foot of the bed. The young marquis, on learning at the factory that Maria was arrested, had asked the colonel to be relieved that night of guard duty, and his request being granted, he hastened to the Elorza mansion just as Don Mariano and his daughter were outside of the town. Dona Gertrudis was in the midst of a very severe fit, from which it was feared that she would not recover; she came to herself but only to fall immediately into another.

What an anxious night! Don Maximo and the Senora de Ciudad remained with poor little Marta to watch by the sick woman. Ricardo likewise was unwilling to leave the house. The girl appreciating that her mother's health and life depended on her behavior, kept up her courage, and did not cease to busy herself about the bed, entering and leaving the room hundreds of times. As soon as Don Maximo gave an order she fulfilled it with admirable exactness. A mult.i.tude of remedies requiring much skill and some practice were taken: mustard poultices, leeches, a.s.saftida washes, various applications to the temples, etc., etc. Marta would not consent for any servant to touch her mother; she did everything herself without bustle, without noise, as though all her life she had done nothing else. During the intervals of rest she sat by the bedside and watched the invalid's face with anxious eyes. The bedroom was feebly lighted by a lamp half turned down in the hall; a strong smell of drugs and medicines arose from the vials acc.u.mulated on the dressing-table; but Marta was not nauseated by any of the odors; her head was steady and her never-failing health was the envy of all the household. Ricardo likewise sometimes sat at the invalid's feet. The girl scarcely saw more than his silhouette outlined against the brighter opening of the door, but this was a great comfort to her. She was not alone; Ricardo was not a stranger. Sometimes when the invalid asked for something and both arose in haste to give it to her, if their hands met, Marta withdrew hers hurriedly, as though she had touched a viper, and she let her friend minister to Dona Gertrudis. Neither spoke. Marta, forgetful of herself, thought only of her mother. Ricardo, more egotistical, thought of Maria. The girl's whole soul was wrapped up in the dear being painfully breathing by her side, and without making the slightest error, with the accuracy of a chronometer, she counted her pulse and watched her respiration. Don Maximo and the Senora de Ciudad were whispering in the adjoining room, as though they were making confession. The lady was explaining to the old doctor the character and temperament of each one of her daughters; the conversation was long. In the course of nine hours the sick woman had four severe attacks, leaving her so prostrated that the doctor seriously feared a fatal result. Nevertheless, after the fourth, she remained comparatively comfortable, and pa.s.sed the day quite easily. The danger, in spite of this, continued.

After the first moments of effusion were over, Maria called her sister aside into a corner of the room.

"Tell me; has mamma made confession?"

"No."

"And why didn't you call the priest?... Didn't you perceive that she was in danger?"

The truth was, Marta had scarcely thought of doing such a thing.

Besides, she was afraid of frightening her mother, and thought that this might be bad for her. In the bottom of her heart, likewise, there was a great terror of that tremendous scene, and she wanted to banish it from her mind. Maria chided her severely for her negligence, bringing before her the terrible responsibility which she would have incurred had her mother died. Marta saw that she was right, and hung her head. She sent instantly to summon Dona Gertrudis's confessor, and Maria undertook to prepare her mother. Wonder of wonders! Dona Gertrudis, who during her life had asked an infinite number of times to have her confessor summoned, now felt overwhelmed with surprise and fear when her daughter told her that she must get ready. Possibly the fact was, that when she had asked for it, she harbored the conviction that there was no real danger of death, while now she understood that matters were really serious. At all events, her daughter's words made a great impression upon her, and she raised all the objection in her power against receiving him, urging as an excuse that she felt better; that when there should be danger, she would herself call for him.

Maria opposed this delay, and found herself under the cruel necessity of clearly explaining to the invalid the seriousness of her situation. Dona Gertrudis yielded, but her face betrayed a great discouragement.