CHAPTER XIII.

IN WHICH ARE TOLD THE LABORS OF A CHRISTIAN VIRGIN.

The general commander kept by the fickle Spanish republic in the province of * * * was a good deal of a barbarian,--be it said without intention of hitting him too hard, for every man has the right to be as much of a barbarian as he finds consistent with sound morals and good habits. The first thing that he did, as soon as it was breathed to him that the Carlists of Nieva were getting ready for a surprise (_algarada_, battering-ram, was what he called it), and intended nothing less than to get possession of the gun factory, was to summon the commandant Ramírez and say to him:--

"Within an hour you must start for Nieva with two companies, together with the inspector of police, and as soon as you get there, you arrest and bring to me lashed arm to arm--do you understand?--lashed arm to arm, all the individuals who are put down on this paper."

"'Tis well, my brigadier!"

"It will not need more than half a company to guard them. You, with the rest of the force, put yourselves under command of the colonel-director until I make other arrangements."

"'Tis well, my brigadier!"

As the commandant Ramírez, having made his salute, was going out of the office door, the brigadier called him back,--

"Harkee, Ramírez, how did I tell you to bring the prisoners?"

"Lashed arm to arm, my brigadier."

"Correct; God go with you!"

The night on which the two companies reached Nieva was the one chosen by Don César's friends to sound the battle-cry and seize the factory. The conspiracy was well planned. At one o'clock in the morning fifty men were to meet in the garden of a rich Carlist proprietor, and fifty more in the wine-cellar of another, to arm and equip themselves. At two precisely they were all to march against the factory, the guard of which, at this time under command of the young Marqués de Peñalta, did not exceed twenty-five men, and attack it ostensibly at the doors, while others should scale the walls in the rear. Once inside they would quickly seize upon the arms already manufactured, loading them upon mules which were in readiness, set fire to the workshops, and haste away from the town. In case they should be attacked, they expected to raise easily five or six hundred men well provided with arms and ammunition. Don César had no doubt of the success of his enterprise, but the cursed bird[62] traditional in all conspiracies, past and to come, upset the brave caballero's project. At eleven o'clock that evening the commandant Ramírez and the inspector of police had possession of all the individuals of the committee, and ten or a dozen of the most outspoken Carlists of Nieva, who, tied together and under the guard of half of a company, according to the orders of the general commander, were under the arcade of the town-hall, waiting the order of march. The only woman among these was Maria. In vain did Don Mariano, with tears in his eyes, beg the leader of the force to let him take her in a carriage. The commandant Ramírez declared that he was deeply grieved at not being able to gratify him, and that the only thing that he could do, out of respect for him, was to give her parole-leave and wait a few moments until she procured thick footwear and suitable outside garments, though to do this exposed him to the wrath of the brigadier who ... (and here the commandant Ramírez employed the term which we have already had the honor of applying to him).

At last the order was given, and the lieutenant set out on the march with the prisoners. Don Mariano would not leave his daughter. Though it did not rain at that particular moment, the night was very damp and the roads truly abominable, as was proved by the spatterdashes of the soldiers. In the town almost everybody was aware of what was going on, and many dark, silent forms filled the balconies, straining their eyes to see the prisoners pass by. As they went through a certain street, an angry female voice cried from a balcony,--

"Villains, you will pay for all these things in hell!"

The soldiers lifted their heads and dropped them again, silently proceeding on their march, the measured sound of which inspired melancholy and fear. They all felt on their caps a steady broadside of looks of hatred, which, notwithstanding their innocence, they received with the resignation of those accustomed to suffering injustice. They soon left the last houses of the town and entered the high-road, the first stretches of which were adorned with lofty poplars. The sky was still dark and thick, wrapping the earth in darkness. Scarcely could they see the trunks of the neighboring trees, or the shapes of the houses or farm buildings along the roadside. The feet of the company no longer produced the sharp clatter which they made when they were walking over the paved streets, but a muffled sound still more sad. The lieutenant, a pretty good-natured young fellow of twenty, ordered the soldiers to march in parallel columns, with the prisoners in the middle. Then he approached the latter, and asking them if he could do anything for them, apologized courteously for taking them bound together, but they must understand that the brigadier was somewhat of a ... (the young lieutenant made use of the same expression which his commandant, and we as well, has already applied to him). The prisoners muttered their thanks and relapsed into a dignified silence. Soon it began to rain furiously. Don Mariano, who had not exchanged a word with his daughter, hastily spread his umbrella to shelter her, and held her long pressed to his heart, whispering in her ear:--

"My daughter, what a bitter trial you are giving me!... Wrap yourself up well!... Are you cold? oh, that obstinate brute shall answer me for this!... I will go to Madrid and see the Minister of War, and have him sent to prison!... Does the rain reach you anywhere, sweetheart mine[63]? Do you want my waterproof?... To send and have my daughter pinioned!... Oh, the confounded pig! in what sty did this farcical government find him!... If you get sick, I will kill him without a moment's hesitation.... But you, silly girl, who inveigled you into this pack of conspirators without my permission?... If I had not let you wander about so much among these churches, you would not at this time be suffering such trials.... What have you to do with Carlists or with Republicans?... A well-educated girl stays quietly at home, looking after her father's shirts and knitting stockings.... Do you hear?... knitting stockings!... The beast! wretch! to send and take my daughter pinioned!... If I see him, I won't promise not to seize him by the throat...."

"Calm yourself, papa, ... calm yourself, for Heaven's sake. I am perfectly comfortable.... When one suffers for God the suffering is turned into pleasure.... Never did I feel better than at this moment ... and it is because I feel in my soul the consolation of having done something to restore Jesus to his holy kingdom.... The only thing that makes me suffer, is to see you unhappy.... Ay! papa, what wouldn't I give to have your faith as living and ardent as mine, so that you would despise all the pains of earth, and march calm and content, as I am marching, whither God may wish to take me!"

Don Mariano felt a torrent of sharp, angry words choking him, but he could not give them utterance. All that he did was to wrap his waterproof around his daughter, emitting a sort of grunt significantly eloquent.

It ceased to rain at last. A slight breath of south-west wind made itself felt, and the thick mantle over the sky began to thin away, letting through a slender, feeble light which brought out the silhouettes of the soldiers, and the trees, and the enormous forms of the mountains girding the valley. The silence in the band was sepulchral. The prisoners exchanged not a single word, devouring their rage and grief. In the country, likewise, was heard none of those pleasant sounds that increase the mystery of the night, and fill the soul with soft melancholy. Only as they passed in front of some house, they heard within the threatening bark of a dog, protesting against the march of troops at such an unusual hour, and, now and then, the no less gentle muttering of Sergeant Alcarez as he cursed the night, and his luck, and the mother who bore him.

The wind kept blowing stronger and stronger, a soft, moist wind which the prisoners took to be of sufficiently evil import. The trees, lining the sides of the road, twisted, as though in agony, scattering all the rain drops with which they were laden. In the feeble light of the sky the forms of the huge, black clouds began to appear, rushing swiftly through the air, as though closely pursued by some monster of the night. Back of these clouds the faint blue of the firmament could not be seen, but a thick mantle of gray, seemingly impenetrable. Nevertheless, the wind, still increasing in violence, began at last to rupture it in a few places, making beautiful rifts, in the depths of which could be seen the soft lightning of some star. The great, black clouds swept over them, and blotted them out, but the mantle was constantly rifted again in other places, and the little stars once more tipped friendly winks to the earth. At last a great burst of silvery light suddenly bathed the whole landscape: the moon had come out between two clouds, fair and splendid as a virgin who opens the windows of her apartment. But hardly had she cast one look of curiosity at our band, when the rude clouds drew together, binding a fillet over her eyes, and leaving the earth gloomy and dark. Again she appeared on high, and once more she was hidden, as she saw a hurrying legion of clouds of every form and shape, flying to unknown regions, pass before her face. In the space of half an hour, she presented and hid herself an incredible number of times, seeming to the eyes of the pilgrims like a ship ready to sink in some restless, stormy ocean.

Finally the tempest of the sky grew calm. Slowly the thick cloud masses, which spotted the face of the sky, had disappeared behind the mountains. A few, which still remained, and at long intervals, passing across the moon, left the earth in darkness, likewise hid the mountain-peaks. And the sky was left clear and bright, spreading out its dark mantle adorned with stars. The moon traced a luminous circle around her, in which, like a haughty queen, she let no other star shed his light. The wide valley seemed to quiver gently with joy at feeling the kiss of her silvery beams, and sent forth from the orange groves, and the quiet streams, and the white hamlets scattered here and there, millions of reflections vanishing with gentle mystery in the air. In some places great, luminous sheets stretched out, where could be seen with wonderful clearness the outlines of trees and fences; in others, clustered shadows, guarding the dreams of flowers. The broad valley, when thus illumined, had the semblance of a sleeping lake.

After tramping along for a considerable time through the midst of the valley, our band struck into the mountains girting it. It was necessary to cross them to reach the plain surrounding * * *. The highway followed the most accessible places, skirting the side of one of the mountains with a pretty decided slope. The horizon widened wonderfully. As they began to climb, the lieutenant commanded a halt before a huge tavern, situated near the highway, and sending to the landlord obliged him to arise and provide his people with food. The prisoners went into the house and rested some time. Then they set forth once more, calmly climbing the sharp declivity.

The exuberant vegetation of the valley had ceased. The mountains, which constantly shut them in closer, leaving barely room for the highway, were clad only in ferns. From time to time they came upon the opening of some coal mine, dug near the road. Don Mariano could not resist the temptation of talking about the railway to Nieva, and he approached the lieutenant and showed him where the line from Sotolonga was going, explaining in full the advantages which it had over the line from Miramar. The pathway was now considerably drier on account of the hillside, and the moon from on high still lighted up the way, and fixed her sweet, calm gaze on the pilgrims. The notes of a guitar were heard. When did the guitar ever cease to sound during a march of Spanish soldiers? And a voice of heroic timbre sang in the accents of the South:--

"_Como cosita propria_ _Te miraba yo_ _Te miraba yo;_ _Pero quererte como te quería_ _Eso se acabó_ _Eso se acabó._"

Four or five soldiers scattered here and there likewise showed their southern origin by shouting at the end of the strophe, _Olé, olé!_ That song, born in the warm soil of Andalucia, was a magic wand which banished sadness from all hearts. The stern mountains, as though possessed by a sudden sympathy, re-echoed the soldier's voice, carrying it far away across its gorges and ravines. Lively conversation arose in the company, stopping every time that the Andalusian soldier struck up a new verse. The prisoners persisted in their obstinate silence. All marched negligently, with mouths open, instinctively enjoying the favorable change which the night had undergone. Suddenly, as they were doubling one of the numerous turns in the road, in the roughest part of the divide, the report of a musket was heard. A soldier dropped to the ground. Almost at the same time the portentous cry of _¡Viva Carlos Septimo!_ was hurled into space. Lifting their heads, all saw at no great distance, standing on one of the rocks commanding the road, a man with long, white mustachios, dressed in a sheepskin _zamarra_ and Basque cap.[64] The prisoners instantly recognized in him the president of the committee, Don César Pardo. The lieutenant ordered the men to close up, fearing an ambuscade, and gave the command to fire; but the volley had no result. When the smoke cleared away Don César was still seen calmly reloading his gun. As he fired it, he cried again with still more fury,--

"_¡Viva Carlos Septimo!_"

"May the lightning strike you, you old fox; you have spoiled my arm for me," exclaimed Sergeant Alcarez, raising his hand to the wound.

"Second column, aim! fire!" shouted the lieutenant.

This time there was no better result. Don César fired again, crying,--

"_¡Viva la religión!_"

Then the lieutenant angrily gave the command,--

"Fire as you please!"

An incessant crackling of musketry followed from the half company, drawn up in battle array; but the solitary enemy neither retreated nor fell. Standing on the rock, without even deigning to shelter himself behind it, he steadily loaded and fired his musket, always repeating in a terrible voice,--

"_¡Viva Carlos Septimo! ¡Viva la religión!_"

He rarely fired without causing some loss in the company. The moon illuminated his proud, fierce face loaded with wrinkles, giving it a fantastic appearance. His eyes gleamed like those of a madman, and his tall, lusty frame stood forth in the luminous atmosphere, like that of a supernatural being who had come down to punish offences committed against heaven.

"Do you know me, republicans, do you know me?" he cried, without ceasing to fire. "I am Don César Pardo, an old Christian and a Carlist from head to foot."

"You're a scoundrel," replied a soldier.

"Hearkee, little fellow; you're all of a tremble, and the balls you shoot go wide of the mark."

"Try this one then!"

"No, sir!... it didn't hit.... If I had ten men with me how you would all scatter, you lapdogs!"

"Do what you please, boys!... Kill that whelp!" cried the lieutenant at the height of irritation.

The soldiers broke for the mountain, and began to climb it with the agility of wildcats. The rage which possessed them redoubled their powers. But at the same time the lieutenant, snatching a musket from one of the soldiers, levelled at Don César and brought him down.

"That'll do, boys!... Come back!... the hawk is winged at last," he cried in triumphant accents.

"It only wounded my leg; ... my bill is whole yet," replied the ringleader, with hoarse voice.

And in truth, though his hip was shot through, he managed to raise himself up and load his musket, which he instantly fired at those who were coming up against him. They roared with rage as they pulled themselves up by the ferns, or dug their fingers into the moss to climb faster.

"Come, come, you cowards," screamed Don César, likewise maddened with rage. "Come and learn how to fight!... You see how a Carlist officer makes war!... You see how he is equal to fifty republicans!... To-morrow tell your exploit to General Bum Bum who sent you!... Let 'em give you the laurel wreath, you heroes! Now here goes a shot for Don Carlos!... Ah! I know how you are taking off a girl as prisoner, you brave warriors of the republic!... Here goes another for Doña Margarita!... Did the pill taste bad, eh, fellow?... Oh, how glad I am to see you! _¡Viva Carlos!_ ..."

He was not allowed to finish. A soldier who had reached the summit put the muzzle of his gun to his forehead and blew off his head, saying,--

"Die, you hog!"

He killed him without heeding the voices of his comrades, who said, "Leave him for me! Leave him for me!"

As they reached him with pale cheeks and bloodshot eyes, they all discharged their guns at the lifeless body of the terrible ringleader, quickly destroying it in the most horrible manner. When that act of barbarism, inspired by wrath, was accomplished, the soldiers remained silent. Their irritation being calmed, they began to realize how they had been fighting with one single man, and they were dissatisfied with themselves. In spite of themselves they felt stirred to admiration.

"The old man had gall," said one, as he wiped off a few drops of blood which had spattered into his face.

"He was well quit of his life," declared a second.

"The truth is, that taking them one at a time, that old man would have swallowed this whole division, uniform and all," said a third, finally; and no one uttered a protest.

In the company there were one killed and five wounded, as the result of the skirmish. They placed them all, as well as they could, on improvised stretchers, and again took up the line of march. Not only the soldiers, but the prisoners, plodded on in silence and melancholy, profoundly impressed by the tragic event which had just occurred.

The night was still as calm and bright as before, and in the zenith the moon, which had just been lighting that unequal combat with her soft poetic beams, still shed them upon the company slowly ascending the highway, and upon the livid, dismembered corpse which they had left behind on the crag. The struggles, the joys, the griefs of us poor devils who creep on the earth, what worth have they? what do they signify before the august serenity of the heavens? For them the fall of an empire and the fall of a leaf are of equal consequence; for them the sigh of a maiden in love and the groan of a dying man are alike in sound. "Nature is deaf," said the great Leopardi, "and cannot pity."

But Maria walked along with her eyes fixed on the sky, regarding it with far different thoughts. There where the poet found nothing but a blind will, incapable of good, the pious girl saw a foreseeing and merciful God, as merciful as terrible, who received the good into his bosom, and sent the wicked to eternal torment--a God, who, like ourselves, was appeased by prayers and tears. She felt stirred as she thought of the fate which the soul of him who had just died would meet in presence of divine justice, and by a quick, spontaneous movement of her heart, she said in a loud, clear voice:--

"For the soul of the departed Don César Pardo: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven." The prisoners began to pray with fervor. Some of the soldiers did the same. Then they relapsed into silence as they marched along, and nothing was heard but the sound of labored breathing, and occasionally the complaints of the wounded, not very well accommodated in their litters. At last they crossed the highest point of the watershed, and began to descend toward the wide valley of * * *. The dawn was already appearing in the confines of the east. The dull blue of the sky in that quarter was fading into a pale, melancholy light, which at the same time blotted out the sparkling stars. The travellers felt a chill, unpleasant breath of wind which turned their noses and hands purple. Very soon a great golden fringe spread over the eastern hills, and the band could regard at their pleasure the valley stretching out at their feet, where the green of the meadows and the yellow of the plowed lands shone in multitudinous tones, coarse or soft, like a rich mantle of brocade. A few tufts of cloud were slowly rising from the depths of the streamlets which furrowed it; and yonder, in the west, a great curtain of black mountains, on whose summits the snow still gleamed white, shut it in abruptly, casting across it a great mantle of shadow. In spite of this shadow, the eyes of the travellers who knew the region could distinguish in the very edge of the black curtain the spire of the proud tower of the cathedral of * * *. The prisoners and their guards reached the plain, and crossed the valley from one end to the other, expending much time in the transit, principally because of the care required by the wounded. Finally, at eight o'clock in the morning, they reached the first houses of the suburb of * * *.

The inhabitants of the capital had heard of the sudden blow struck by the military governor against the Carlists of Nieva, and a great throng, collected in the streets, was impatiently waiting to see the prisoners pass by. It was composed almost entirely of what, during the revolutionary period, was called the sovereign people; that is, of all the ragamuffins and rough-scuff of the city, together with quite a number of respectable people, though loungers, and almost all the _ladies_ of the suburbs.

On seeing the band from afar, the multitude was stirred tempestuously, and there arose a dull, universal clamor:--

"There they are now! There they are now!"--"I was told that they intended to assassinate all the liberals of Nieva last night."--"Ah! the rascals! Fortunate they fell beforehand into the trap!"

"They must be undeceived," declared a fat and highly-colored caballero, with a good-natured face; "all the Carlists are either rascals or fools. I would not employ any other means with them than extermination.... Fire and sword!"

"Let us sing them _El trágala_ when they pass," said a ragged lad to two other swells accompanying him.

The people pressed close as the band approached, those who could finding standing-room on the street-walls and the trees along the way. On seeing the wounded, and learning through the curt account of some soldier about the incident of Don César, the inquisitive citizens felt justified in manifesting their indignation, and though at first they contented themselves with giving each other the benefit of their hostile thoughts, finally they began to belch forth against the prisoners furious insults, apostrophizing them in loud tones, as though they had all received from their hands some wrong. Thus they continued escorting them through the streets of the city, their fury and indignation ever on the increase, until words were not enough to satisfy them. The prisoners marched with sunken heads and flushed faces.

"Oh, you hypocrites! saint-killers!" shouted one at them; "may the day soon come when we shall see you strung up!"

"See how those cursed rascals[65] hang their heads! If they had us in their fists the meanest of them would be happier."

"Now cry 'Long live Carlos Seventh,' you rubbish!" But the popular fury was most madly excited against Maria. Neither her youth, nor her beauty, nor her weakness, served to spare her from ferocious, filthy insults.

"Who is that woman with 'em? They say she's a saint."--"Yes, a saint, but she's a loose character!"--"See here, wench, if you are hunting for a husband, you'll find one here!"--"That one needs a few dozen lashes!"--"See what hypocritical eyes the harridan[66] has!"

It is easy to appreciate the state of disturbance, wrath, anguish, and excitement which overmastered Don Mariano Elorza, at being obliged to listen to these rude remarks. In his impotent rage he bit his hands and stopped his ears, fearing that his blood would boil over and lead him to do something endangering his daughter's life.

As we have already said, the crowd, not content with flinging insults, took it into their heads to indulge in brutal treatment of them. One rough youth gave the example by hurling a piece of orange. Many others followed his example, and there fell on the unfortunate prisoners a hailstorm of projectiles, more disgusting, it must be confessed than deadly. However, a cabbage stalk thrown violently, hit Maria in the face and made her lips bleed.

Oh! then the unhappy Don Mariano's fury burst forth, terrible and resistless, as the sea in its moments of tempests, as a volcano in eruption. His athletic figure fell upon the group of loungers nearest him, and he annihilated it with his onslaught, scattering the men on the ground as though they had been made of straw; those who were left on their feet fled without awaiting a second attack. The Señor de Elorza would have made his way through the whole crowd, but meeting with resistance in the serried ranks, he grasped the throat of the first ruffian at hand and would have surely choked him to death, had not the soldiers come to his aid and pushed back the angry father. His wrath then broke out in a storm of frenzied words, which brought the throng to silence.

"Guttersnipes! vile guttersnipes! cowards! beasts!... If they had not prevented me, I would have pulled your tongues out, one at a time.... You have wounded my daughter.... Didn't you know she was my daughter, you rascals! Here you showed your valor, you bullies! why don't you go to Navarra to fight with armed men, instead of attacking the defenceless?... Because you are cowards!... An indecent rabble that ought to be scattered with whips! If there be among you any one worthy of meeting me, let him come out so that I can spit in his face.... Let go of me, let go of me, for God's sake! Let me kill one of these pimps who have wounded my daughter. Let me go, señores, let me go!..."

Don Mariano struggled to tear himself from the arms of the soldiers. The rabble who had fallen back before his attack, seeing him in custody, recovered from their alarm, and crowded back again like basilisks, foaming at the mouth with rage.

"This old coxcomb insults the people!"--"He's a crazy fool!"--"It's a shame for the people to be so insulted!"--"Why don't you kill this knave!"--"Kill him, yes, kill him!"--"Kill him!"--"Kill him!"

And the throng pressed up to the band closer and closer, though slowly, like an ocean of waves swelling and threatening, and would soon have put an end to Don Mariano and the prisoners, had not the lieutenant prevented such an act of barbarism by shouting at the top of his voice,--

"Attention, company--ready--aim!"

Then the swelling waves subsided as by magic. The lieutenant's voice was Neptune's _sed motos prestat componere fluctus_. The sovereign people turned tail, and saying in their hearts "escape if you can," started to run in all directions, tripping up here, and scrambling to feet again there. And it is reported that His Majesty ran so fast and so far, that in less than three minutes he disappeared from before the guns of the military.

Thanks to this, the prisoners were left in peace until they reached the prison, where they were lodged in a great hall, filthy enough, with a wooden floor, filled with rat-holes in many places. Maria was assigned a separate room, comparatively clean and comfortable.

The hour set for the hearing before the council of war was twelve o'clock; and when the clock struck, the prisoners, perfectly guarded, were transferred to a handsomely decorated salon in the building where it met. The officers composing it were seated behind a long table, covered with red damask trimmed with gold lace, under a velvet canopy which, in other times, before we had the republic, had served to give regality and prestige to the portrait of the king. The presiding officer was the military governor, who was anxious to have done with the business in a rapid and violent manner. He wished to inflict exemplary punishment upon all of the conspirators, or, what is the same thing, "not to leave a mannikin with his head on," to use his own words. He was a chubby man, with great blub-cheeks and a thin mustache: a perfect image of what we, and likewise the Commandant Ramírez, and the lieutenant of the convoy, have already called him. The other officers had absolutely nothing remarkable in their faces: coarse features, black eyes, twisted mustachios, sharp-pointed goatees, commonplace faces, on the whole, though manly. At first sight, it was evident that they wore their togas broad. When the prisoners entered, the doors and the standing-room of the building were invaded by a great crowd, not so rude and low as that of the morning; it was made up of people of more respectability,--students for the most part, hidalgos and officeholders. This throng preserved a thoughtful, compassionate silence at seeing them enter.

They were introduced one at a time in the great hall of state. The captain, who acted as prosecutor,[67] took their depositions, having before him documents in proof of the crime. The members of the Carlist committee of Nieva gave their testimony as best suited their ideas of propriety, denying the majority of the counts, astutely pleading guilty to others, and, in fine, doing all in their power to be let off easily. The fat-cheeked brigadier lost his temper not a few times during the course of the hearing, interrupting the prosecutor to launch harsh apostrophes at the prisoners, and threatening to have them shot in the interim, if they did not reveal all the minutiæ and ramifications of the conspiracy; but he accomplished little by his intimidations. When Maria's turn came, he smiled sarcastically, and said with rough irony,--

"Have the goodness to draw near, señorita, and to reply to the questions which this caballero capitán will put to you."

"What is your name?" asked the prosecutor.

"Maria de Elorza y Valcárcel."

"_De, dee, dee_," snorted the brigadier, "always the same aristocratic pretensions!"

"You are accused of serving as intermediary in the correspondence between the Marqués de Revollar, Don Carlos's minister and counsellor, and the ringleader, Don César 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 participant at various meetings held by the conspirators of Nieva, with the assistance 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 Señor 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 noble uncle, the Marqués de Revollar, and the brave Don César Pardo (whom may God 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 God, 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 illustrious martyrs of the Christian faith, and their steadfastness was for her an example and further incentive in the road to sanctity upon which she had entered. Countless times she had imagined scenes of martyrdom in which she was the principal 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 multitudes, 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 analogy 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, señorita, 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 God, 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 God, my beautiful señorita?" asked the brigadier with apparent calmness, while his eyes flashed lightnings of wrath.

"I call the cause of God 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 God 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, Señor Capitán."

For the first time in his life the brigadier smothered his barbarous words. The fiscal, over whom the force of attraction for the opposite sex 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, señorita; 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_]...."

"Señor 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, Señor 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 hitherto...."

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 passed 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.