CHAPTER XXII.
EXPLANATIONS.
We will now return to the chacra of Don Gregorio Peralta, to whichDona Rosario had been conducted after her miraculous deliverance.The first days that followed the departure of the two Frenchmen weresufficiently devoid of incident: Dona Rosario, shut up in her bedroom,remained almost continually alone. The poor girl, like all woundedspirits, sought to forget reality, by taking refuge in dreams, in orderto collect and preserve piously in the depths of her heart the fewhappy remembrances which had so rarely gilded with a ray of sunshinethe sadness of her existence. Don Tadeo, completely absorbed in hisimperative political combinations, could only see her now and then, andbut for a few minutes at a time. Before him, she endeavoured to appearcheerful, but she suffered the more from being obliged to conceal in herown bosom the sorrow which consumed her. She occasionally crept downinto the garden; she stopped under the arbour in which her meeting withLouis had taken place, and remained hours together thinking of him sheloved, and whom she had driven from her for ever.
This poor child, so beautiful, so mild, so pure, so worthy of beingloved, was condemned by an implacable destiny continually to lead alife of suffering and isolation; without a relation, without a friendto whom she might impart the secret of her grief. She was little morethan sixteen, and already her bruised heart shrank back upon itself; hercolour faded, her step became languid, her large blue eyes, swimming intears, were incessantly raised towards heaven, as the only refuge thatremained for her; she appeared to hold to the earth only by a slightthread, which the least fresh shock of adversity would snap.
The maiden's story was a strange one. She had never known her parents;she had no remembrance of the kisses of her mother--those warm caressesof childhood, which make even mature age tremble with joy. From herearliest days, she could only remember being alone, always alone, in thehands of the mercenary and indifferent. The innocent joys of childhoodremained unknown to her; she had known nothing of them but theirweariness and sadness, and had ever been deprived of those friendshipsof early youth which, by insensibly preparing the mind for affectionateexpansion, give birth to smiles in the midst of tears, and console witha kiss.
Don Tadeo was the only person who was attached to her; he had neverabandoned her, but watched with the greatest care over her materialwell-being, smiled upon her, and ever gave her good and pleasantcounsels: but Don Tadeo was much too serious a man to comprehend thethousand little cares which the education of a young girl requires. Shecould only entertain for him that profound, yet respectful friendshipwhich forbids those ingenuous confidences which can only be made to amother, or to a companion of the same age. The visits of Don Tadeo weresurrounded by an incomprehensible mystery; sometimes, without apparentcause, he made her suddenly quit people to whom he had confided her,and took her away with him, after ordering her to change her name,upon long tours. It was thus she had been to France: then, he quite asunexpectedly brought her back to Chili, sometimes to one city, sometimesto another, without ever condescending to explain to her the reasons forher leading such a wandering life.
Constrained by her isolation to depend only upon herself, forced toreflect as soon as the first rays of reason enlightened her brain, themaiden, though so delicate and fragile in appearance, was endowed withan energy and firmness of character of which she was ignorant, butwhich supported her unconsciously; and if the hour of danger arrived,would be of infinite use to her. She had often, urged by the instinctof curiosity so natural to her age in the exceptional position in whichshe was placed, sought by adroit questions to seize the thread thatmight guide her in this labyrinth; but all had proved useless--Don Tadeoremained mute. One day only, after having for a long time contemplatedher with an expression of sadness, he had pressed her to his heart, andsaid in a trembling voice,--
"Poor child! I will protect you against your enemies!"
Who could those formidable enemies be? Why were they so inveterateagainst a girl of sixteen, who knew nothing of the world, and hadnever injured a human being? These questions, which Dona Rosario wascontinually asking herself, always remained unanswered. She only caughta glimpse in her life, of one of those terrible mysteries which bringdeath to the imprudent who persist in endeavouring to discover them;her days, therefore, were passed in continual fears, engendered by herimagination.
One evening, when, sad and thoughtful as usual, and buried in the depthsof an easy chair, in her bedchamber, she was turning over the leaves ofa book which she was not reading, Don Tadeo entered the room. He salutedher, as he always did, by a kiss on her brow, took a seat, placedhimself in front of her, and after looking at her for a moment with amelancholy smile, said quietly,--
"I wish to speak with you, Rosario."
"I am all attention, dear friend," she replied, endeavouring to smile.
But before we report this conversation, we must present our readerswith a few necessary explanations. Like all the other countries ofSouth America, Chili, for a long time depressed beneath the Spanishyoke, had conquered its independence, more through the weakness of itsancient master than by its own proper strength. The system followed bythe Spanish authorities from the beginning had checked in the peopleof these countries the development of the philosophical ideas whichgive man a consciousness of his own value, render him one day apt toachieve liberty, and ripe to enjoy it within just limits. We have said,in a preceding work, that the Americans of the South have none of thevirtues of their ancestors, but, to make up for it, they possess alltheir vices. Destitute of that early education without which it isimpossible to do or even to conceive great things, the Chilian nation,free by an unexpected chance, found itself immediately the sport ofa few intriguing men, who concealed beneath high-sounding words ofpatriotism a boundless ambition. The newly-freed country struggled invain; the innate carelessness of its inhabitants, and the levity oftheir character, formed an invincible object to any amelioration.
At the epoch at which we have arrived, Chili was labouring under theoppression of General Bustamente. This man, not contented with beingminister of a republic, dreamt of nothing less than causing himselfto be proclaimed the chief of it, under the title of protector. Therealization of this idea was not impossible. From its geographicalposition, Chili is almost independent of those troublesome neighbourswho, in the states of the old world, keep watch over all the acts ofa nation, and are, ready to put in their _veto_ as soon as their owninterest appears to be threatened. On one side separated from UpperPeru by the vast and almost impassable desert of Atacama, Bolivia alonemight hazard some timid observations; but the General cherished secrethopes of including that republic itself in the new confederation; onthe other side, immense solitudes and the Cordilleras separated it fromBuenos Aires, which had neither the will nor the power to oppose hisprojects. One people alone could make a war with him, which he shoulddread, and they were the Araucanos; that little nation, driven likean iron wedge into Chili, disturbed the General's plans seriously. Heresolved to treat with the Araucano Toqui, while determined, at the sametime, when his projects should have succeeded, to unite all his forcesto conquer that country which had so long resisted the Spanish power. Ina word, General Bustamente dreamt of creating at the southern extremityof America, with Chili, Araucania, and Bolivia confederated, a rivalnationality to the United States. Unfortunately for the General, therewas not in him the stuff to make a great man; he was simply a _parvenu_,an ignorant and cruel soldier.
When America raised the standard of revolt against the mother country,numerous secret societies were formed at all points of the territory,the most redoubtable, beyond contradiction, being that of theDark-Hearts. The men who placed themselves at the head of this societywere all intelligent and well informed, mostly educated in Europe, who,having seen in the field of action the great principles of the Frenchrevolution, wished, by applying them in their own country, to regeneratethe nation. After the proclamation of Chilian independence, the secretsocieties, having no longer an object, disappeared. One alone persistedi
n remaining permanent--that of the Dark-Hearts. This society was notwilling that license should assume the mantle of liberty: it felt thatit had a great and holy mission to fulfil, and that its task, so farfrom being terminated, was scarcely commenced. It was necessary toinstruct the people, to render them worthy of taking their place amongnations, and, above all, to deliver them from the tyrants who wishedto enslave them. This mission the society of the Dark-Hearts labouredincessantly to carry out, struggling constantly against oppressivepowers, which succeeded each other, and destroying them without mercy.Proteus-like and intangible, the members of this society escaped themost active researches: if by chance some few of them fell in the arena,they died with head erect, confident in the future, and leaving to theirbrethren the care of continuing their task.
The recovery of General Bustamente caused the Dark-Hearts a momentarystupor; but Don Tadeo, who had caused the news of the miraculous mannerin which he had survived his execution to be spread universally,revived their spirits by placing himself again at their head. Not thateither courage or hope had failed them. However great the skill of themachinations employed by the General to insure the success of his plans,the Loyal-Hearts, who had confederates everywhere, foresaw and defeatedthem. They watched all his movements with the greatest care, for theywere quite aware that the moment was drawing near when their enemy wouldthrow off the mask. They had heard of the departure of the convalescentGeneral for Valdivia. For what reason, as his health was still souncertain, and repose so necessary, had he gone to that remote province?That must be learnt at any price, and they must prepare against anyeventuality.
In a meeting of the society, future measures were agreed upon; it wasmoreover resolved that the King of Darkness should at the same timerepair to Valdivia, in order, if advisable, to take the initiative inresistance. But Don Tadeo could not think of leaving Dona Rosario behindhim, exposed to the unprincipled attacks of the Linda. He alone coulddefend the young girl; was he not her only support? As soon, then, asthe Dark-Hearts had dispersed, Don Tadeo returned to the chacra, andwent straight to Dona Rosario's chamber.
"My dear child," he said, "I have sad news to inform you of."
"Speak, my kind friend," she replied.
"Urgent affairs require my presence as soon as possible in Valdivia."
"Oh!" she cried, with an expression of terror, "you will not leave mehere, will you?"
"At first I intended to do so, this retreat appearing to me to unite allthe guarantees for security; but cheer up, my child! I have changed mymind; I have fancied you would prefer accompanying me?"
"Oh, yes," she said, eagerly; "you are always kind. When do we set out?"
"Tomorrow, dear child, at sunrise."
"I shall be ready," she replied, holding up her pretty face towards him,that he might impress his customary kiss upon her brow.
Don Tadeo retired, and Rosario immediately set about the preparationsfor her journey. Of what consequence was it to her whether she were inone place or another, since she was doomed to suffer everywhere? And whocan say whether the poor girl, without daring to avow it to herself, didnot entertain the hope of again seeing him she loved? Love is a divinesunbeam that illumines the darkest nights.
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