CHAPTER XVIII.

How vividly, during that gloomy night did the tranquil scenes of his lost domestic happiness present themselves to Perico! And for what had he exchanged them? His present frightful existence. All around him was motionless. He saw in the sad monotony of the night the changeless monotony of his misery; in the fire {796} burning before him, his consuming conscience; and in the cold and impenetrable obscurity beyond, his dark and cheerless future.

"Power of God!" he cried, "can I see and remember, and feel all this, and yet live?"

The red and wavering flame threw from time to time a glare of light across the strange wild forms of the ruins, presently leaving them in deep shadow, appearing to take refuge within, as a dying memory flashes up and then buries itself in the oblivion of the past. He heard his own breathing exaggerated by the silence, he saw horrible shapes in the obscurity. Fingers threatened him--eyes glared at him--reproachful voices accused him. And no, he was not mistaken, by the clearer light of the flames, now blown by the wind, he saw, beyond a remnant of wall, a pair of hard black eyes fixed upon him. Startled, and doubtful between the imaginary and the real, Perico did not know whether he ought to put himself under the protection of heaven, by making the sign of the cross, or to call for earthly help by giving the signal of alarm.

Before he could act, there came from behind the stone ruin a ruin of humanity; from behind the degradation of time, a wreck of human degradation--an old, filthy, and disgusting gipsy woman. The tint of the brown woollen skirts which covered her fleshless limbs blended with that of the ruin; she wore about her neck a kerchief, and over her faded locks a black cloth mantilla.

Perico was struck motionless as a stone, or as if the repulsive face had been that of the Medusa.

"Don't be uneasy," said the vision, approaching, "there is nothing to be afraid of. I have not come with bad motive, and you need not be on the watch. I knew that you were here, and have caused it to be rumored that you were making your way in the direction of the Sierra de Ronda, and that people had seen you near Espera and Villa-Martin."

"But why have you come here?" exclaimed Perico, instinctively alarmed at the aspect of the woman.

"To put you in the way of securing, at a stroke, a fortune that will last you your lifetime," she replied.

"That which you are likely to offer does not inspire much confidence," said Perico.

"Why should I wish to harm you?" said the gipsy; "and as to my looks, a poor cloak may cover a hail companion. I bring a treasure to your very hands; you have only to extend them."

"A treasure," said Perico, in whom the word, instead of exciting covetousness, only suggested the idea that the woman was mad, "a treasure, and where is it?"

The old wretch, who saw in the question only what she expected to find, avidity and thirst for gold, approached Perico as if she feared the breath of night might intercept her words, and the anathemas of heaven dissolve them in the air, and whispered in his ear, "In the church."

Perico, utterly shocked, gave a step backward, but recovering himself, rushed upon the woman like a tiger, and pushing her with all his might, exclaimed, "Go!"

"I will not go," she said, unintimidated; "I came to speak with the captain and the convict, and I will speak with them."

In his anguish lest she should do it, and to force her to go, Perico drew a dagger and flashed its shining blade in the firelight. The gipsy shrieked and the robbers woke.

"What is this?" shouted Diego; "what has happened? Perico, are you going to kill a woman?"

"No, no, I do not want to kill her, only to drive her away."

"And because," said the old woman, "I have come so far, through danger and fatigue, to put you in a way to leave this slavish life you are leading, like the Blond of Espera, who committed one robbery so great that he had enough to go beyond the seas and pass the rest of his days in comfort."

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The robbers grouped themselves around her; the convict presenting her with a fragment of the wall as a seat.

"Do not listen! do not listen!" cried Perico, beside himself; "she purposes a sacrilege!"

"Sir," said the convict to Diego, "oblige that agonizing priest to hold his tongue, he is like the dog in the manger. Let this good woman speak, and we shall know what she has to say--a regiment of horse couldn't silence that dismal screech-owl."

Diego hesitated, but finally turned toward the hag, and Perico, knowing then that hope was lost, for the bandit always followed his first impulses, rushed away, running hither and thither among the olives like a madman.

The gipsy had calculated everything, and her measures were well taken. The great advantages so exaggerated, the difficulties so easily overcome, the well-arranged precautions, upon which she amplified so largely, produced their effect. The temptation which offers flowers with one hand and with the other hides the thorns, convinced some and seduced others.

All the plans were settled, and the hours and signals agreed upon, and before the cocks, day's faithful sentinels, announced his coming, the band was on its way to the solitary hacienda of "El Cuervo," and the old witch crawling like a cunning and venomous snake to her den in the wood of Alcalá, where in the depths of the earth she had conceived the crime to which amidst darkness and ruins she had persuaded evil-doers--the crime which was to be perpetrated in the temple of God.