Ponce de Leon: The Rise of the Argentine Republic

But there were others, among them the Viceroy, who neither shouted nor clapped their hands, but looked uneasily one at the other, as though they were far from pleased.

Don Gregorio, looking round his table, saw the various emotions depicted on the faces of his guests; he saw a cloud on the usually open countenance of the Viceroy, ill-concealed anger in the faces of Don Martin Alzaga and other Spaniards, annoyance and vexation in the face of his son-in-law Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon; while in the flushed features of many of his younger guests he read a dangerous excitement, which one untoward word might rouse into a storm. Hurriedly he rose from his seat.

"Señores," he said, "Spain has taken upon herself a task which Europe united has failed to accomplish. In this she will need staunch allies, she will find them in the English, therefore fill your glasses once more and honour a repetition of this toast, 'To our friends the English!'"

"To our friends the English!" shouted all the company, rising to their feet, and the toast being duly honoured they left their places and began conversing in groups about the room, upon which Don Gregorio ordered a large pair of folding doors to be thrown open, and invited his guests to adjourn to the sala for coffee, thus preventing the perpetration of any more ambiguous speeches.

From the sala the guests gradually dispersed, many of them being engaged to pass the rest of the night at the house of Don Fausto Velasquez.

"My congratulations on your speech, my friend," said Marcelino to Gordon, as they left the house together.

"Some of them did not half like it," replied Gordon, laughing; "but I said nothing that I have not said to you fifty times."

"True, but it would be treason for any of us to speak so before the Viceroy. The Spanish doctrine is that 'a colony is a slave.'"

"If her colonists were slaves Spain would have lost this colony a year ago. It takes men to beat us."

"Well, as my father said, we will never beat you again. I never drank to a toast with more pleasure in my life than I did to his 'To our friends the English!'"

BOOK IV

THE DAWN OF FREEDOM

PART I

THE BRIGHTENING OF THE EASTERN SKY

PROLOGUE

The thoughts of a youth are as the winds of heaven, which blow where they list, none knowing whence they come or whither they go, yet have they all some certain course and goal. The thoughts of a youth spring from the instincts of his nature, and are turned hither and thither by the ever-varying circumstances which surround him, yet all tend to one end—the development of his strength and character. The youth has but one object before him, to be a man; if he live, the attainment of this object is certain, its value is to him incalculable; manhood is to the youth the gate which opens to him the whole world.

The veil had fallen from before the unknown future, Buenos Aires stood face to face with her destiny. Her chains had been struck from her hands and from her feet, by events of which she could have no foreknowledge; she stood upright in her youthful strength, unfettered, and alone.

But Buenos Aires had looked upon Spain as upon a mother; now that Spain lay prostrate in her degradation she felt her tyranny no longer, she remembered only that she was her mother.

The waves of the sea toss up their heads rushing to and fro, dashing themselves in never-ending succession upon the shingly beach, each wave after its headlong rush sinking back again into the ocean, vanishing for ever, yet does the tide ever march steadily onwards. As are the waves of ocean, so are the thoughts of a youth, vacillating ever, yet ever advancing towards the one inevitable goal. As are the thoughts of a youth, so are the acts of a young nation, which is not yet known to be a nation, vacillating ever, yet ever advancing towards that one goal which is the object of all her aspirations—Independence.

CHAPTER I

MAGDALEN

The quinta of Don Alfonso Miranda was not a pretentious dwelling, nevertheless there were men in Buenos Aires who thought it one of the pleasantest houses in or about the city, in which they could wile away a leisure hour. Among others Lieutenant Gordon, during the last year of his residence in Buenos Aires, had been very fond of strolling out there either on foot or on horseback, and had frequently delighted the owner by telling him that while there he could almost fancy himself back in his native country, and certainly if any flat-roofed house with barred windows could remind an Englishman of England it was the house of Don Alfonso Miranda. Don Alfonso had lived so long in England that he had acquired many of the tastes of an Englishman, he had learnt by practical experience the meaning of the English word "comfort," and had fitted up his South American home with a variety of contrivances for keeping out the heat in summer and the cold in winter, which were complete novelties to the hospitable people who had welcomed him amongst them, and who had befriended his daughter when he fell under the ban of their Spanish rulers.

This house, after his release from prison, he had purchased from an American of the name of White, who had built it for himself, but had special reasons of his own for being glad to find a purchaser in Don Alfonso. This same Mr White had returned to Buenos Aires in the year 1807, in company with General Whitelock, and was much consulted by that unfortunate officer.

In one of the rooms in this house was a large, open fireplace, where cheerful wood fires burnt in the cold season. When Don Alfonso brought his daughter to live with him she made tea for him in the English fashion, presiding with demure gravity over her porcelain tea-cups, clustered round a tall, steaming urn. This tea-urn and the fireplace were to their native visitors most marvellous innovations, but Don Alfonso had now no greater pleasure in life than to sit cosily in an arm-chair beside his fire on a chilly winter evening, watching his daughter as she so presided at her own tea-table, listening to her voice as she chatted with some chance visitor, and thinking dreamily of his English home and his English wife, now both lost to him for ever. Don Alfonso was himself of rather taciturn disposition, but he liked to hear others talk, and there was no voice he loved to hear so much as that of his daughter Magdalen.

Magdalen was but a very young woman, her teens wanted yet one of completion, but when she returned to the city, after her long visit at the Pajonales with the family of Don Fausto Velasquez, her father thought her quite old enough to govern his household for him. He had fitted up two rooms with great care for her especial use, adorning them with books, pictures, and trinkets which had years ago belonged to her mother, and which he had carefully packed up and brought with him across the ocean for the special purpose of some day bestowing them upon his daughter.

Doña Josefina and her friends found the Quinta de Don Alfonso a very pleasant resort in the warm summer evenings. It stood off a short distance from one of the main roads, separated from it and from the wide, open space which went by the name of the Plaza Miserere by thickly-planted trees.

Where ladies go, there young men are ever sure to follow, so that before her first summer at her father's quinta had passed over, Magdalen had taught some score of young men who had never tasted tea in their lives before, to drink it out of her porcelain cups. Among those who drank out of her porcelain cups this summer there were three who had found special favour in her eyes, Don Carlos Evaña, Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon, and Lieutenant Gordon, for they would now and then speak to her in English; her father having taken care that she should not forget her native tongue, generally speaking to her himself in that language, and she was glad when she could find any one to talk English with. Of English books she had what her friends thought a large collection, and these three friends would sometimes borrow some of these books from her, and talk to her about them after reading them. But one great trouble she had; she had not come at once to the quinta when she returned to the city with Don Fausto, but had remained several weeks with Doña Josefina, at whose house she had frequently met Dolores Ponce de Leon. Between Dolores and her a warm friendship had sprung up, in which there was more than friendship, for each became to the other as a sister, and as sisters they loved each other, telling each other unreservedly the deepest secrets of their hearts, hearts which had as yet known no deep emotion, and in which there were no secrets but such as they might have told unblushingly to all the world. Still they met occasionally at the house of Don Fausto Velasquez, where Magdalen went often, or at the house of Don Gregorio Lopez, where she went less frequently, but to the quinta Dolores never came, saying that her father had forbidden her. The reason of this remained a mystery to Magdalen, for when she had applied in her perplexity to Doña Josefina that lady had spoken to her such words of Don Alfonso that she felt she could never ask any more questions on the subject.

The outside of the house of Don Alfonso differed in one respect from the generality of the houses about Buenos Aires. On the eastern side, which was the front, instead of the usual verandah there stood before the main entrance a wide porch of trellis-work, over which honeysuckle and other flowering creepers climbed luxuriantly, loading the air in the summer-time with the sweet scent of flowers innumerable. The flooring of this porch, on a level with that of the house, was raised some two feet above the level of the garden, from which the approach was by three wide steps. In this porch it was a frequent custom with Don Alfonso to sit with his daughter or with their guests in the warm evenings of the summer and autumn, sheltered from the sun, and gazing through the foliage of the trees upon the green suburbs and upon the white houses of the nearer portion of the city, and farther away upon the summits of the towers and domes of churches.

Magdalen rejoiced with the joy of a young girl whose life so far had been passed amongst strangers, when she found herself at the head of her father's household, and her sweet womanly instincts developed themselves rapidly as she felt that the comfort of others depended upon her diligence and foresight. The household was but a small one, but there was much for her to do in the way of contrivance and arrangement, for Don Alfonso would never buy anything which could possibly be made at home, or which his quinta would produce.

So Magdalen passed the spring, summer, and autumn in great contentment with her father at his quinta; it was now winter, and though she had made frequent visits to her friends in the city, yet she had during all this time never passed one night from under her father's roof until the night of the 5th July, which she spent in very unwonted fashion under the roof of Don Fausto Velasquez, dancing and listening to soft speeches in the spacious saloons of Doña Josefina, which were crowded with all that Buenos Aires could furnish in the way of beauty and distinction.

The number of those having some claim to distinction in Buenos Aires was not great at that time, for until the first invasion of the English under Beresford the modes by which a native of Buenos Aires could distinguish himself were very few. Two English invasions had given opportunities for distinction, and officers of the Patricios and Arribeños who had shown skill or courage were the favoured guests of Doña Josefina on this occasion. Among these officers there was but one Spaniard, a captain in the regiment of the Andaluces. To this captain Doña Josefina showed great attention, introducing him to many a fair partner, whispering to them to pardon his coarse manners and want of address, as he was a protegé of hers, and had been lieutenant of the "Morenos de Ponce."

But of beauty Buenos Aires had enough and to spare. It is said (in Buenos Aires) that when Venus was apportioning her gifts among her sisters she gave pre-eminence in grace and elegance to the Spanish woman, in liveliness and savoir-faire to the Frenchwoman, to the Italian perfection of form and feature, to the Englishwoman a complexion clear as the morning, and so on, some special gift to the women of every race upon earth, but that she forgot the Porteña altogether, till being told of her neglect she took from each woman of every race a fragment of the special perfection of each one of them and bestowed it upon the Porteña, thus creating a race of women unequalled in the variety of their charms in any country under the sun. However that may be, it would be difficult to find anywhere such a collection of beauty as graced the saloons of Doña Josefina on this evening of the 5th July.

Magdalen was not a Porteña, her friends called her the "Inglesita," because England had been her birthplace. She was short in stature, irregular in feature, with high cheek-bones; her English birth had not even endowed her with a brilliant complexion, but her figure was good, her hands and feet were small, and there was an easy grace about her every movement which was in itself no inconsiderable charm. Throughout this evening she was surrounded by a constant succession of admirers emulous of her hand, and each one as he led her to a seat after a dance lingered near her, wondering to himself what it was that made him so linger.

She spoke little during the dances, for this was the first city ball at which she had ever been present; the brilliance of the scene somewhat embarrassed her, and many of those who sought an introduction to her she had never seen before. This was her first ball and she enjoyed it greatly, the pleasure which she felt beamed in her face; joy is infectious and produces joy in those who look upon it, by sympathy.

Her dress was of white muslin, richly embroidered, with a very short body and immense balloon sleeves padded with swan's-down, which stood out round her shoulders but left the greater part of her arms bare. Under this dress she wore another of blue silk, the outer dress of muslin being looped up at the left side with a small rosette of blue silk; both dresses were exceedingly long in the skirt, sweeping the ground for fully a yard and a half behind her as she walked. Her hair, rising straight up from her forehead, was combed in a fashion much in vogue at that day into one mass on the top of her head, and was sparingly sprinkled with powder; from the back a few curls fell down behind her ears, and two or three smaller curls lay in careful negligence upon her forehead and temples. She wore a necklace of pearls, from the centre of which hung a small gold cross, and her left wrist was encircled by a bracelet of plain gold.

About an hour before midnight, during a pause between two dances, Magdalen was walking down one of the rooms in company with Lieutenant Gordon, who was repeating to her some of the anecdotes which Marcelino Ponce de Leon had told about his negroes at the banquet not two hours before, when she was accosted by an officer in gala uniform, with the epaulets of a major on his shoulders. She started at his voice as he spoke to her, and then looked up at him with a glad smile, but as her eyes met his they fell beneath their earnest gaze and a warm flush spread over her cheeks. The officer who had addressed her, and whose bright dark eyes were riveted upon her face as he bowed lowly before her, was Marcelino himself.

Marcelino had never forgotten those eyes which had haunted him during the long summer and autumn which he had passed training his negroes, and he had eagerly accepted Don Alfonso's subsequent invitation to visit him at his quinta, but during the many evenings he had passed there since he had never again seen the same look in those eyes, often as he had looked into them in search of it, and he had learned to think of Magdalen as an amiable but very plain-featured girl, with a certain nameless fascination about her for which he could not account. Also, as a girl with a talent for conversation, and a voice to which he could listen for hours with the same feeling as though he had been listening to music.

Magdalen had inherited from her English mother a gift more charming than any physical beauty, and one less liable to fade, that of a most melodious voice. In Buenos Aires, where physical beauty is so general among women, a melodious voice is but rarely heard, and Marcelino had often caused great amusement to his friend Gordon during many months past by his mode of asking him to accompany him on a visit to Don Alfonso.

"Come out with me to the Miserere, and talk to your paisanita for me while I listen."

As Marcelino now looked upon Magdalen, with the girlish joy beaming in her face, he saw once again that same look in her eyes which had haunted him for so long and which he had never forgotten. Her face seemed to him lighted up with a new beauty all its own, a beauty far exceeding all beauty of feature or complexion, the beauty of expression. When she smiled upon him with the glad smile with which she received him, her soul looked out upon him through those large grey eyes, a soul in consonance with the sweet voice he loved to listen to, the soul of a large-hearted, loving woman. To Marcelino she never appeared plain-featured again.

He asked her hand for the next dance, and then instead of dancing they sauntered away to a quiet corner, where they sat down and talked together.

"So Gordon has been telling you about the banquet?" said Marcelino.

"Not much about the banquet, but about the speech you made," replied Magdalen.

"I made! Yes, I did make a speech of a sort; talked about my negroes, which is very easy for me to do; but his was the great speech, did not he tell you about that?"

"Not a word. What did he say?"

"He said one thing, which there are some of us will take care to spread all over the country. He said that a colony is an infant nation."

"You think so, I know. I have heard you say something like it more than once."

"Yes, but not in public, and before the Viceroy. In us poor Creoles it would be rank treason to say such a thing, but just at present an Englishman may say what he likes."

"Then when he goes there will be no one left among you who will dare to speak the truth openly?"

"No one, for a time at least; but the day is coming when all will be able to speak openly just what they think."

"Why not begin at once? I should think it was never too early to speak the truth."

"There you are mistaken; but you must think me very stupid to talk to you about politics in a ball-room, though I have seen you listen when others were talking politics at the quinta."

"I always listen, and then talk to papa about it afterwards. Papa and I are great politicians when we are alone together. I have never seen my uncle Don Francisco, but papa has talked to me for hours about him, though he hardly ever speaks of him to any one else."

"Allow me to compliment you on your dress, I admire the colours you have chosen; blue and white, are they your favourite colours?"

"Yes, they are, so I would wear them. Doña Josefina and Lola did all they could to persuade me to wear pink, but I can be very obstinate when I choose."

"And quite right too. I never saw you looking so well before, all the men seem to think so, it was ever so long before I could get a chance of speaking to you."

"That is because you are the hero of the ball, and have so many others to speak to. Does not Lola look beautiful this evening, quite like a little queen?"

"I think she has spoiled it by the way she has arranged her hair, the peinete[7] does not suit her at all, and I should think it must be very uncomfortable."

"La moda nunca incomoda,"[8] answered Magdalen.

"I am glad you have not followed the fashion," said Marcelino, "for the peinete would suit you even less than it does Lola."

As they spoke, a lady of fair stature and of radiant beauty, in the first bloom of womanhood, dressed in pink, and with masses of dark hair falling in silken curls upon her white shoulders, came sailing proudly down the room leaning upon the arm of a young officer; as she passed near them she turned her brilliant black eyes full upon Marcelino, and bending towards him with a peculiar wave of her fan, said in a low voice:

"Le felicito" (I congratulate you).

Magdalen, who had apparently not heard her words, gazed eagerly after her.

"What a beautiful girl," she said; "I do not think I ever saw such a beautiful girl. Who is she?"

"Elisa Puyrredon; she is sister to Doña Juana de Saenz-Valiente; some men say that the two sisters and my aunt Josefina are the three most beautiful women in Buenos Aires."

"And what do you say?"

"I don't know any woman equal in beauty to Elisa Puyrredon."

"But we were talking about my uncle," said Magdalen. "I am so proud to have such a man for my uncle. I think a man who has spent his life as he has, has done more that he may be proud of than the greatest conqueror that ever lived. He has always been beaten; but even Napoleon, with all the battles he has won, is not near so great a man in my eyes as my uncle Francisco."

As Magdalen spoke her face flushed, her enthusiasm beamed in her large grey eyes, tinging them with a darker colour than was usual to them; and Marcelino, watching her intently, forgot to speak, till meeting his wrapt gaze she bent her head and appeared intent only upon the figures on her fan.

"Then you think that a man who devotes himself to the welfare of his country, even if he fail and be proscribed and banished, has not spent his life in vain?" said Marcelino.

"In vain, no! Good work is never done in vain."

"You will miss Gordon very much."

"Indeed I shall, and so will you; but he says he will come back again, and I think he will."

Magdalen spoke this last sentence in a peculiarly confidential tone, raising her fan as she spoke, and looking over the edge of it at Marcelino, but the glance and the tone were alike thrown away upon that gentleman.

"He promised me long ago," replied he, "that if we have to fight for our freedom he will join us; but now I think we shall win it without fighting, the French are doing that for us. He likes the country so some day we shall have him back again. What will you do without him? You will have no one to read English to you in the porch next summer."

"Poor me! but it was very seldom he did read to me last summer. I think he likes galloping about better than reading. Last summer he was always in a hurry to get away, and his gallops were always in one direction."

"Yes, the traitor! he was always taking me to the Miserere in the afternoons, and then leaving me to find my way back by myself."

"Yet I never saw you angry with him for deserting you."

"The time passed so pleasantly that I never missed him till it was time to go back. You cannot think how I am wishing for the long days to come again."

"Papa likes the winter best."

"Yes, he likes to sit at his fireside while you make tea for him, but we Porteños like the open air better. For me the most pleasant place in any season is where you are."

"A compliment! You know that I do not like compliments," answered Magdalen, with a look of annoyance.

"I did not intend it as a compliment," said Marcelino.

"When men say things like that it sounds to me as if they were mocking one. There are some men who are always doing it, and it is so annoying. You have never said anything like that to me before."

"I never said a word to you yet that I did not mean. Do you not like to hear the truth spoken to you?"

"Yes, even if it be unpleasant."

"And I like to speak the truth when it is pleasant to do so; when it is not I prefer to keep silent."

"If you never speak anything but the truth to me we shall always be good friends, and I shall know how to interpret your silence."

"Then we are good friends now, for I have never said a word to you that is not true. I am going away, and I do not know when I shall be back. I should be very sorry to go away leaving you angry at anything I had said to you."

"You are going away! Where to?"

"To Rio Janeiro. I arranged it this morning. If the captain of the English frigate which is at Monte Video will give me a passage I am going with Gordon, so I shall not lose him so soon as you will."

"He does not know, at least he said nothing of it to me."

"No, I have not told him yet. No one knows but you and my father."

"Poor Dolores! she will be quite lonely, losing both you and Mr Gordon at once."

"Not so lonely as you generally are. She has always plenty of people about her. If she saw you more often she would miss us less. Could you not come and pay Aunt Josefina a visit of a month or so, I know she wants you to do so?"

"And leave papa all alone! Impossible!"

"Then I will tell you what to do. Come and spend one day every week with Aunt Josefina. Lola often tells me that she wishes she could see more of you than she does."

"Does she? Oh! I am so glad. I shall be here all day to-morrow till the evening, and then every Wednesday morning after this I will come in and spend the day with Doña Josefina. I am sure papa will let me if I ask him, and when I have a fixed day for coming then Lola will come too."

"Then when I come back the Wednesdays will be an established custom, and I shall think that I have done something to give you a pleasure by suggesting it. Every Wednesday while I am away I shall think that you and Lola are together, and when she speaks of me you will think of me for a moment, and will remember that I am thinking of you."

CHAPTER II

HOW DON GREGORIO LOPEZ A SECOND TIME SOUGHT AN ANSWER TO THE QUESTION OF THE DAY

In August there came an emissary from the Emperor Napoleon to Buenos Aires. Viceroy Liniers received this Frenchman very affably and the two held conferences together of which none knew the purport; but why this Frenchman had come was no secret to any one in Buenos Aires. He came on behalf of the Emperor Napoleon to invite the colonies of Spain to follow the example of their mother-country, telling them that Spaniards desired no longer that Bourbons should reign over them, but had welcomed with joy a new king whom he had chosen for them, his brother Joseph.

But Buenos Aires had heard of this new king, Joseph, before this Frenchman had come to tell her of him, and knew that those Spanish nobles and courtiers who had crowded round Murat at Madrid, and had welcomed the new king whom Napoleon had sent to them, were not the Spanish people. Buenos Aires knew that the Spanish people would have no foreigner for their king, and that the Central Junta established at Seville proposed to rule Spain and to make war upon Napoleon in the name of Ferdinand VII., who by the abdication of his father was the legitimate King of Spain, although both he and his father were now prisoners in France, and were said to have renounced their rights in favour of the new king, Joseph.

Buenos Aires had no great cause to love Spain, and her reverence for her was fast dying out, yet still she looked upon Spain as her mother, and her spirit rose in anger as she heard of her degradation. Men went about from house to house and stood in groups at the street corners, talking eagerly one to the other, questioning one another why it was that this Frenchman was hospitably entertained in their city, while Spain lay prostrate at the feet of Napoleon, who had sent him? Then they remembered Liniers also was a Frenchman, and their wrath was kindled against him; and when sundry Spaniards came amongst them, striving with soft speeches to still their indignation telling them that the question was not theirs, but was Spain's, that Spain would decide for herself and for them, they thrust them out from among them with scornful words.

On the 15th August Liniers made a proclamation to them, counselling them to moderation, showing how the destinies of a colony should follow those of the mother-country, but that while the struggle went on they should for their own sake hold aloof. But neither to him would they listen, and throughout the city the ferment was great.

Then on the 21st August Liniers gave answer to the emissary of Napoleon, and justified himself in the eyes of the men of Buenos Aires by proclaiming with all due formality and military display Ferdinand VII. King of Spain and the Indies.

It was the evening on this 21st August, the roll of the drums was long since hushed, the regular troops had retired to their barracks, the militia to their homes, the quietude of a winter night had come down over the city. The streets were almost deserted, here and there men might be seen issuing from their houses, and wending their way through the darkness to the house of Don Gregorio Lopez. Each man as he reached the door of this house looked cautiously round to see that he was alone, then struck one smart rap with his knuckles upon one of the panels of the door, and bent his head to listen.

From the inside there came one rap in answer, upon which he struck twice rapidly in the same place as before, and the door opened. In the centre of the zaguan hung a lamp, which threw its rays directly on the face of each man as he went in; under this lamp stood a tall negro. Each man as he entered the zaguan waited till the door closed behind him, then said to the negro one word:

"Patria."

"Buenas noches y pasa adelante," replied the negro, stepping to one side and leaving the passage free.

Each man crossed the first patio and entered a second zaguan, where three young men stood in silence, waiting till he should speak. To them he also spoke one word:

"Libertad."

Upon which one of them led him across the second patio, and ushered him into the same large room in which Don Gregorio had held another secret meeting more than two years before, some few days after General Beresford had taken possession of the city.

Some days previous to the proclamation of King Ferdinand, and while the excitement of the city was at its greatest, Marcelino Ponce de Leon had returned to Buenos Aires. His trip to Rio de Janeiro had been a pleasant one, but he had there met with a certain Don Saturnino Rodriguez Peña, a Porteño by birth, who had inspired him with a great idea. Big with this idea he hurried back, and after an interview with his grandfather sent messengers in every direction, summoning the friends of Don Gregorio Lopez to meet at his house on the evening of the 21st August. One of these messengers galloped out by the southern road and returned on the day of the meeting with Don Carlos Evaña and Don Gregorio Lopez the younger, whose father had received him with open arms when he had visited the city in May, soon after the sudden return of Don Carlos Evaña to his estancia.

About nine o'clock a numerous company were assembled, then the door of the dining-room was shut, and Don Gregorio took his place at the head of the long table, the rest seating themselves on chairs or standing in groups about the room.

Don Gregorio rose from his seat and looked round him, pausing ere he spoke; a proud smile beamed on his face; as the rest looked upon him this smile was reflected in their faces and many of them clapped their hands.

"Señores," said Don Gregorio, as the applause subsided, "it is with pride and pleasure that I look round on you who have come here at my invitation. It brings to my remembrance, as it will to many of you, an evening more than two years ago when we met together as we do now. These two years have been years which will be for ever memorable in the annals of our country." Here Don Gregorio was interrupted by "Vivas," and clamorous applause; when silence was restored he went on:

"These two years have worked a mighty change amongst us. We have learnt in times of difficulty and danger to trust to our own strength and our own ability, and we have found that we have both strength and ability within ourselves. In former times we looked to Spain to protect us in danger, and we obeyed without question the mandates of the rulers she set over us. In these years Spain has been unable to do anything to protect us, yet have we defended ourselves successfully. We turned out the Viceroy sent by Spain as our ruler, and have now a Viceroy of our own selection, to whom we look as the representative of our legitimate sovereign. But our sovereign himself is in prison, cut off from all communication with us, to whom then shall we look as to the source of the authority which we obey?

"During the last two years ideas and wishes have grown up amongst us which were formerly unknown, it is for the discussion of these ideas that I have called upon you to meet me this evening. One such idea my grandson Marcelino has asked my permission to lay before you."

As Don Gregorio resumed his seat, Marcelino Ponce de Leon rose in the midst of an ominous silence, and in a carefully-prepared speech disclosed a plan for bringing the Princess Carlota, sister of King Ferdinand and wife of the Prince-regent of Brazil, to Buenos Aires to rule over the provinces of the Rio de La Plata as queen.

During his speech he frequently was interrupted, and as he sat down the confusion rose to a tumult. Most of those present laughed at the idea as absurd, and some in no measured terms expressed their indignation. When the uproar had partially subsided, Don Gregorio Lopez again rose to his feet and said:

"Señores, it is with my entire approval that my grandson has laid this proposition before you. I think it well worthy of careful consideration by all of us, but I doubt much whether it would be received with favour by our Spanish rulers."

"Our Spanish rulers!" shouted Don Carlos Evaña, springing indignantly to his feet, "our Spanish rulers! they are the men who are to decide this and every other question for us! Spain has fallen and with Spain the one check which existed to protect us from Spanish rapacity; in place of being the slaves of a great empire we are now the slaves of a handful of Spaniards. Who are these Spaniards that they should come among us and arrogate to themselves the possession of all authority? Do not deceive yourselves, my countrymen, we, the citizens of this country, have inborn rights which no Spaniard, no king, or Bourbon, can take from us. There is no longer any question of Spain or Bourbons, we are the people, and the time has come for us to demand our rights as men. What shall we do to claim and take possession of these rights of ours? That is the question which is now before us.

"To you, Don Gregorio, as the man of most influence among us; to you, young men, who wear the uniform of our victorious militia, the rising hope of our country, I address this question, that you take it into your serious consideration, but I ask you not for your answer, that answer it is not for us alone to give, that answer must come from an entire people, and shall ere long be spoken on the house-tops in the full blaze of the sun."

Then, as Evaña sat down, burst forth from the younger members of that assembly a storm of applause, and Valentin Lopez y Viana, the youngest son of Don Gregorio, raising his hand in the air, shouted "Viva la Patria!" a cry which found its echo in every heart there present, and which ere long reverberated from south to north over an entire continent, rousing enslaved nations into the bold assertion of their rights as men.

There was no more discussion of this or any other question; with many there present the influence of Spain was yet paramount, they might shout "Viva la Patria," but the Patria was to them a dream, and Spain was a dread reality, and treason against Spain was a fearful crime entailing fearful punishment; they were only too glad to take any pretext for opening the doors and seeking the shelter of their own homes.

In deep chagrin Marcelino left the house in company with Don Manuel Belgrano, the only one who had shown any warm sympathy with his project.

CHAPTER III

SEVERAL WAYS OF LOOKING AT ONE QUESTION

It was the evening after the one on which Don Gregorio Lopez had held a secret conference with his friends as narrated in the preceding chapter. Don Alfonso Miranda in a loose dressing-gown and slippers sat in an easy-chair at his fireside. On the wide, open hearth logs of wood burnt and crackled cheerfully, throwing out showers of sparks when they were touched.

Opposite to Don Alfonso, in another easy-chair, sat Don Carlos Evaña, holding in his hand a tea-cup which had just been refilled for him by the small white hands of Magdalen Miranda, who sat near to him at a round table, in the centre of which hissed a huge brown urn. At the far side of this table, with the urn between him and the fire, sat Marcelino Ponce de Leon, holding a silver tea-pot under the spout of the urn, while Magdalen with her hand on the tap let just so much water run into it as she judged sufficient for one more cup of tea.

"You did not tell us anything about that, Don Marcelino," said Magdalen.

"No," replied Marcelino, looking across the table at Don Alfonso.

"Don Carlos, you see, trusts us more than you do," replied the young lady, with a slight toss of her head.

"It is not want of trust that kept me silent. But secrecy implies danger; to admit you to the secret admits you to the danger also."

"Among sixty! Did you not say there were sixty, Don Carlos?" asked Magdalen.

"Yes; and the secret of sixty is not much of a secret," answered Evaña.

"I do not see why it should be a secret at all," said Magdalen. "The Princess Carlota could not be queen without the consent of her brother. Did you see her when you were at Rio?"

"Yes, Gordon took me with him to a ball at the British Embassy, and she was there for about half an hour."

"What is she like?" asked Magdalen, but before Marcelino could answer Don Alfonso turned towards him and asked abruptly:

"You were at the British Embassy, did you speak with Lord Strangford?"

"Yes, he took me to one side and asked me a great many questions about this country and about Whitelock's affair."

"Did he mention my name to you?"

"Yes, and seemed curious to know what you were doing here. I told him as little as I could of you."

"Right, quite right," replied Don Alfonso, turning back again to the fire.

"You have been several times in the city while I was away," said Marcelino.

"I make it a custom to go every Wednesday to see Doña Josefina," replied Magdalen, bending over her empty tea-cups and arranging them on a small tray.

"To one person you give great pleasure by so doing," said Evaña, in a low voice.

"And that one is myself," said Magdalen. "When are you going out again to your estancia, Don Carlos?"

"Some time next month," replied Evaña. "Are you tired of giving me tea in your English fashion?"

"Not at all, I like trying to civilize you proud Porteños, who suck mate through tubes one after the other, and yet think yourselves the most polished people on the face of the world."

"You go often to your estancia, Don Carlos?" said Don Alfonso, rising from his chair.

The playful smile vanished from Magdalen's face as she heard her father speak, there was something in the tone of his voice which she had seldom or never heard before. As she looked up at him she saw that his lips were white, and his face set as though he were a prey to some unseen terror. She had risen from her seat to summon her maid to remove the tray and urn, but as she looked at her father she sat down again, clasping her hands together.

"Since I purchased the place I have spent nearly half my time there," replied Evaña.

"You do well, but you would do better to spend all your time there," continued Don Alfonso. "I have heard that when you are there you pay more attention to men than to beasts, and think more of your horses than you do of your cattle."

"Yet I have more cattle than either men or horses," replied Evaña evasively.

"Listen to me, young men, both of you," said Don Alfonso. "One of you buys an estancia and gives away his cattle to any men who will join a regiment with which he has nothing whatever to do; the other gets three months' leave of absence for a voyage of pleasure, meets in Rio Janeiro a man whose hatred of Spain has driven him into exile from his own country, and then hurriedly returns before his leave has half expired. Then both of you are present at a secret meeting and report that the subject discussed was a project for supplanting our rightful king by his sister. At this meeting there was much talking, but nothing was resolved upon, each man spoke his own thoughts. Now I know that if Don Manuel Belgrano and Don Carlos Evaña spoke their thoughts they would say something very different from this insane project of bringing a queen to reign over us."

"I assure you, Don Alfonso," said Marcelino, "that Don Manuel Belgrano is much in favour of the idea."

"It may be so," replied Don Alfonso; "but when men meet in secret to speak their thoughts what they speak is treason. I do not ask you of what you spoke last night, I do not wish to know, but I will tell you what neither of you know. When I left England ten years ago I was a hale, strong man, now look at my white hair and my weak trembling hands, I am an old man before my time; I should have died, and my daughter would be an orphan, but for the kindness of men who knew nothing of me save that I was in misery. Ten years ago I thought myself a rich man, now I am poor, as you see. All this is the result of the reckless folly of other men, for whose faults I have suffered. You talk of patriotism and love for your country, do you ever think of the misery your wild schemes may bring upon others? The day I landed at Carracas six men, of whom four had been the friends of my youth, were put to a shameful death, hung, drawn, and quartered; when I asked why, they spoke to me of my brother, and because my name was Miranda they thrust me into a dungeon, loaded me with irons, and would doubtless have taken my life also, but that I was rich and could bribe my gaolers. I know nothing of my brother, and of your schemes I will know nothing either, can you not leave me to enjoy in peace the little that is left to me?"

As Don Alfonso spoke, jerking out his words in abrupt sentences, his face became nearly livid, and his hands trembled so that he could hardly grasp the arms of the chair as he sat down again. Marcelino covered his face with his hands and Evaña sat motionless biting his moustache, which was a way he had when he was angry. Magdalen looked from one to the other with an expression of deep pain on her face, then as her father sat down she drew out a low stool from under the table, and placing it beside his chair she seated herself upon it, and taking his hand in hers patted it softly, caressing him as one would soothe a child when in trouble.

Then Marcelino took another chair in front of the fire, and strove to change the current of their thoughts by cheerful talk, but Evaña replied only in monosyllables, and Don Alfonso spoke not at all, sitting there moodily in his arm-chair gazing at the fire. Marcelino and Magdalen talked together almost in whispers, speaking to each other at random on any subject which came uppermost, Magdalen still holding her father's hand in hers. Thus half an hour passed over, when Evaña rose to his feet and said:

"It is late, let us go."

"Remember what I have said," said Don Alfonso, "I wish to know nothing of your schemes."

Then, without looking at either of them, he waved his hand and so dismissed his two guests.

Magdalen accompanied them to the porch, looking wistfully out into the night as they put on their cloaks and hats; as they shook hands with her she whispered softly to Marcelino:

"Something has happened to annoy papa, I knew it."

Marcelino and Don Carlos had their horses tied under the trees, they mounted and rode slowly away. Until they were squares from the quinta neither of them spoke. Then said Don Carlos in a musing tone:

"See you how two men of the same birth and blood may differ?"

"Don Alfonso is certainly a very different man from his brother as you have described him to me," replied Marcelino.

"Originally he was of much the same character," said Evaña; "but the easy life he led in England has enervated out of him the stern energy which distinguished Don Francisco, and his imprisonments here and at Carracas have completely cowed what spirit he had left. He is a sample of the effects of Spanish tyranny, of which I have seen many; the good in him has been crushed out of him, and he has become what you have seen to-night, a drivelling coward, and at the same time he is dangerous, for he is both treacherous and revengeful."

"Knowing what he has suffered, I think it was unwise of you, Carlos, to say anything to him of the meeting last night. You could not suppose that he would take any part with us."

"I did hope that he might, his name alone would be of great service to us, and I spoke with a purpose. I have received a letter from the General, I believe he has also written to Don Alfonso, I wanted him to tell me."

"What does the General say?"

"Very little, and in very guarded words, but I know what he means. He means that the time has come, and that after our triumph of last year, Mexico, Venezuela, Chili, and Peru all look to us to give the signal. Your idea of giving us a queen in the Princess Carlota will not find much favour from him if he ever hears of it."

"But you will not oppose it?"

"I do not think I shall have any need to, it will fall through without my interference. Look here, my brother, between us there must be no secrets."

As he spoke Evaña edged his horse nearer to Marcelino, and laid one hand on his shoulder.

"You have started the idea, be content, leave Belgrano to carry it out if he can. As Miranda says, the time has come; all that I have done so far is preparative, now I am going to begin my work—join me."

"And your object?"

"A republic."

"We are not yet ready for complete independence."

"So long as Spaniards rule over us we shall never be more ready than we are now."

"How do you propose to begin?"

"I wish to form a small secret committee of men who are ready to dare everything for the accomplishment of our one object."

"Have you spoken to any one else of it?"

"You are the first."

"Then let me be the last also, Carlos. We are so strong that we have no need of any secrecy, what we want is publicity to educate the people into a knowledge of their own rights and of their own power. To form a committee as you suggest is the first step towards a conspiracy, and will give a pretext for forcible measures of repression, which can only end in civil war. Let us openly demand that half the seats in the Cabildo be given to Creoles, and that Creoles be henceforth eligible for any post under government."

"And then we will throw open our ports to the world and invite the English to come and trade with us?"

"Just so. With our own men in every corporation all necessary reforms are possible."

"And Spaniards are going to give up their monopolies and let us introduce all manner of innovations, and be brothers to us so long as we let their flag fly at the fort, and shout 'Viva La Reina!' or 'Viva el Rey!' whichever it may chance to be."

"They will submit to necessity."

"When they see it they will, but until we show it them they will never see it. No, my brother, we must first assert, seize by force, if necessary, the power of governing ourselves, we must first appoint a government of our own, then we may safely welcome all Spaniards who choose to join us, and give them equal rights with ourselves. If we content ourselves with asking as privileges for what are our natural rights, they may yield them to us now that they have no strength to struggle against us, but it will only be to take them back again so soon as they find themselves strong enough to do it."

While Don Alfonso and his two visitors were speaking in their way of the meeting of the previous evening, the same subject was under discussion from a very different point of view in the private apartments of his Excellency the Viceroy. Marshal Liniers had also two visitors that evening, Martin Alzaga and Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon.

The precautions taken by Don Gregorio Lopez had prevented unfriendly intrusion, but had by no means sufficed to keep the meeting itself a secret. Don Martin Alzaga had heard of it beforehand, and had warned the Viceroy, counselling him to use his authority to prevent it; but Marshal Liniers had refused to interfere, saying that so long as the citizens obeyed him and paid the taxes they might meet as they liked in their own houses. Then Don Martin had sought the aid of Don Roderigo, and between them they had devised means for learning something of what should take place at this meeting. Now they came together to visit the Viceroy, and to lay before him the result of their enquiries.

"I think it strange of you, Don Roderigo, that you should move in this matter," said the Viceroy, after they had conversed with him for about an hour; "your son, your father-in-law, and some of your most intimate friends are those most deeply implicated."

An angry flush spread over Don Roderigo's face as he answered:

"Nothing has yet been done. I suppose men have a right to speak their opinions in their own houses, but it is always well for the authorities to know what are the ideas of the people."

"When these ideas are treason they have no right to give utterance to them anywhere," said Don Martin Alzaga; "and I call upon you Don Santiago, to order the immediate arrest of Don Gregorio Lopez for holding a seditious conference."

"I hope you will no do such thing," said Don Roderigo.

"Why not?" said Don Martin.

"The Patricios would mutiny at once, and we should hurry on a catastrophe which it will require all our care to avoid."

"An example is necessary," said Don Martin.

"By due precautions we may avoid any such necessity, at any rate until we are strong enough to act with safety to ourselves. I have enquired into the particulars of this meeting simply as a precaution. In this idea of offering the sovereignty of the Viceroyalty to the Princess Carlota there is no danger whatever."

"I think it most dangerous," said the Viceroy.

"Where there is danger is in the growing arrogance of the Creoles," said Don Roderigo. "The first thing that should be done is to disarm the militia. We need them no longer, and so long as there exist in the city entire regiments of Creoles, commanded by Creoles, the arrest of any popular citizen would produce an outbreak."

"Which we would put down with our troops," said Don Martin Alzaga.

"And bring on the catastrophe at once. I know these men better than you do, Don Martin, and my knowledge tells me that we have need of the greatest caution. Miranda has his agents everywhere in South America."

"Evaña!" said the Viceroy. "He is the one man who I consider dangerous. You did not mention him, Don Roderigo; was he not at that meeting last night?"

"He was," said Don Roderigo; "but he spoke against this plan of inviting the Princess Carlota."

"He wants neither princess nor queen," said Liniers; "he wants a republic."

"Arrest him, then, and let him have a republic all to himself within four walls," said Don Martin.

"I would advise your Excellency to avoid all extreme measures at present," said Don Roderigo. "Our power is falling away from us; instead of exciting popular opposition, I think it will be necessary to make some concessions. The most enticing bait offered by Beresford when he came, was freedom of commerce. Let us grant it; our treasury is nearly empty, the English merchants will fill it for us, and we shall take the most convincing argument out of the mouths of the demagogues of the city."

"And the Consulado de las Indias, you forget them, Don Roderigo?" said the Viceroy.

"The idea is perfectly inadmissible," said Don Martin Alzaga. "The first thing to do is to disarm the militia, then we can repress by force any attempt against our authority."

"The militia have done good service, and merit every consideration," said the Viceroy, "and they cost far less than the Spanish regiments."

"Then we are to do nothing, and let these Creoles conspire against us until some day they set up a government of their own," replied Don Martin, rising angrily from his seat. "Let us retire, Don Roderigo; it is late, and here we do nothing."

The Viceroy rose from his chair, and bowing stiffly to both, dismissed them.

"With this man we shall never do anything," said Don Martin to Don Roderigo, as they crossed the Plaza de Los Perdices together. "Whilst he is Viceroy the Creoles will keep their militia, and will do just what they wish. I should not be surprised some day to see them demand a 'Cabildo Abierto.'"

"Yes," replied Don Roderigo; "unless they send us another Viceroy from Spain we shall soon find ourselves unable to govern at all."

"We have turned out one Viceroy ourselves, and the result was good; we will see if we cannot do it a second time."

"Beware, Don Martin; the Patricios had more to do with the appointment of Liniers than we had."

"What matter to me the Patricios? With musketry we will teach them, if they want a lesson."

CHAPTER IV

HOW THE SPANIARDS ALSO PROPOSED TO THEMSELVES A QUESTION, AND HOW DON CARLOS EVAÑA PREPARED AN ANSWER

Winter gave place to spring, spring ripened into summer, and everything in Buenos Aires seemed to go on unchanged, but in seeming only. As the suns of the springtime covered the leafless trees with verdure, as the buds developed themselves into flowers, the flowers into fruit, so the thoughts of men developed themselves into distinct ideas, and these ideas grew and flourished till they were ready to become deeds.

Don Roderigo had spoken to his son, had told him that he knew of the idea he had brought back with him from Brazil, told him that it was folly, and counselled him to have nothing more to do with it.

"But, father," replied Marcelino, "can you not see why the idea pleased me? Do you not see that native Argentines are no longer the men they were two years ago, and that Spain is no longer the same Spain either? How can we accept Viceroys and laws from Spain, when Spain herself has no king, and when Frenchmen rule over half the country? There are men among us who speak of a republic, but most of us would be content with far less. With a queen of our own from the royal family of Spain, the government would remain in the hands of men such as you, who are accustomed to govern instead of falling into the hands of inexperienced men, who would bring anarchy upon us."

"I will not argue the question with you, Marcelino," replied Don Roderigo, "but I merely warn you that so long as an armed Frenchman treads the soil of Spain the integrity of the dominion of Spain must be the first object with every true Spaniard."

Marcelino listened to his father unconvinced, yet stirred himself no further in the matter, leaving it entirely in the hands of his friend Don Manuel Belgrano, who, being a man of much greater experience and of higher position than himself, was more likely to be able to bring it to a successful issue. But he also refused to listen to the solicitations of his friend Evaña; returning to his post at the Consulado, he passed his days in the sedulous discharge of his duties, and his evenings in study, or in pleasant social intercourse. At least one evening every week he passed at the quinta of Don Alfonso, till Magdalen learned to look for his visits as one of the pleasures of her monotonous life. Sometimes Evaña accompanied him, but never did either of them speak a word to Don Alfonso on the politics of the day. He was invariably civil to them, but to him their visits gave no pleasure, and they could plainly see that it was often a relief to him when they took their departure.

To Evaña these visits were as a penance undertaken for the sake of his friend, but of Don Alfonso's increasing taciturnity Marcelino took no note, there was one there always ready to talk to him, or to listen to what he said, who took a deep interest in all his studies, and whose large grey eyes lighted up her plain features into a beauty all their own as he spoke to her. To him the months passed quickly, and happy in the present he gave but now and then a passing thought to the future.

As for Don Carlos Evaña, his thoughts were ever in the future, but his hopes, his fears, and his projects he kept all to himself, working continually with one object steadily in view, the overthrow of Spanish rule, but working in a way which appeared to none to be work. His estancia he but once visited all that spring, and then his visit was a short one, nearly all his time he spent in the city. Don Cornelio Saavedra, Colonel of the Patricios, offered him a commission in the first battalion, the command of the company formerly led by Don Isidro Lorea, which he declined, yet he practised fencing every day, and those of his books which treated of the art of war were those most frequently studied by him.

One battalion of the Patricios was known as that of the "Pardos y Morenos," being composed entirely of men of colour, liberated slaves, or the descendants of freedmen. At the headquarters of this battalion Evaña was a frequent visitor. Don Cornelio Saavedra met him there one day and asked him somewhat scornfully whether he would prefer a commission in this regiment to one in the corps d'elite, but to him Evaña answered that as yet he had no wish to enter any regiment. Don Cornelio noticed the accent on the word "yet," and replied:

"It would be difficult for even a philosopher to understand you, Don Carlos; for me, I confess that I understand you not at all."

But the free negroes and mulattos understood something about Don Carlos, of which Don Cornelio knew nothing, which was, that if they required favour or assistance in any way, none was so ready to help them as Don Carlos Evaña, and that the only way in which they could repay him for any such service was to repeat to him all the tittle-tattle and gossip they could collect among their women-folk concerning the saying and doings of certain of the chief men of the city who were Spaniards.

Don Manuel Belgrano entered eagerly into a secret correspondence with certain confidential friends of the Princess Carlota; despatched missives to trusty friends of his own throughout the provinces, advocating her claims; and kept alive the zeal of her friends in the city by frequent secret conferences, which were held in the guise of dinner-parties, or of excursions into the country, so baulking the vigilance of Don Roderigo, or of any others unfriendly to the project. So passed with him the spring very harmlessly, but his enthusiasm greatly subsided as he learnt that even American air could not liberalize a Bourbon of the royal house of Spain.

Don Martin Alzaga was looked up to by every Spaniard as the champion of what all Spaniards thought their birthright, the right to rule after their own fashion and their own will all the colonies of Spain. Don Martin knew himself also that he was their champion and thought that he possessed every qualification necessary for a leader in such a cause. Tall, stern-featured, and spare of flesh, with a deep, harsh voice and an authoritative manner, his outward appearance gave the exact index to the man within. The events passing round him taught him nothing, the belief was innate in him that Napoleon was invincible, and that the Bourbons would never again rule in Spain. Acting upon these beliefs of his, he conceived the idea of erecting a new Spain in America, of which Buenos Aires should be the capital, and of which the government should be entirely in the hands of Spaniards, looking to Ferdinand VII. as their king, and acknowledging the authority of the Junta Central of Spain so long as any such Junta should exist.

Don Martin had devoted great attention after the defeat of Whitelock to enrolling and equipping an artillery corps composed entirely of Spaniards. With this new corps and the Spanish infantry regiments previously existing, he considered that he might safely set the Patricios at defiance. So long as Liniers remained Viceroy, native influence was paramount in the State, and nothing could be done towards recovering the ground already lost. He took counsel with such of the leading Spaniards as were in his confidence, among whom was Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon. Together they wrote to the Junta Central of Spain, then established at Seville, advising the recall of Marshal Liniers.

After the despatch of this letter, Don Roderigo counselled patience, stating that with the arrival of a new Viceroy would come a fair opportunity for the adoption of severe measures of repression. But patience was by no means any part of the character of Don Martin Alzaga, he chafed at the delay, and purposed within himself to take the supreme authority into his own hands, until such time as a new Viceroy should make his appearance, to whom he could surrender his power intact.

Colonel Don Francisco Elio, at that time Governor of Monte Video, was a man of the same stamp as Don Martin Alzaga. To him Don Martin imparted his plans. The first result of their understanding was that on the 24th September Colonel Elio, justifying his proceedings by the friendly reception given by the Viceroy to the envoy of Napoleon, which he stigmatised as treachery to Spain, arrested the unfortunate envoy, who was then in Monte Video, and openly rebelled against the authority of Marshal Liniers, whom he denounced as a traitor.

Marshal Liniers took no steps whatever to crush this rebellion; the Spaniards of Buenos Aires hailed the event with joy, as a presage of what they would presently do themselves, and native Argentines were filled with well-grounded alarm. Don Martin Alzaga exulted at the success of his first step, and steadily prepared to follow it up.

Yet among the Spaniards there was one who felt alarm at this first success. Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon saw that the deposition of the Viceroy would be a much more difficult matter to achieve in Buenos Aires than it had been in Monte Video, and that any false step would bring on a collision with the people in which not only the power of the Viceroy but Spanish rule altogether, might be overturned.

And among native Argentines there was one who for precisely the same reason heard of the event with exultation. Don Carlos Evaña hailed with joy any event which might bring his fellow-countrymen into open collision with their rulers.

October passed over and nothing was done, so also November. Towards the end of November, one warm afternoon on which the sun shone down upon the city from a sky of intense blue, uncheckered by one white cloud, when the white-washed houses cast a glare upon the streets such that it was a torment to walk abroad, when steady-going citizens were just rousing themselves from their siesta in the coolest recesses of their houses, one man braved both the sun and the glare, left his house and walked slowly along the deserted street till he reached the house of Don Fausto Velasquez. Entering by the open doorway, he crossed the first patio, passed through the zaguan into the second, and paused to clap his hands. A mulatta girl issued from one of the side rooms at his summons, smiled at him as she saw him, and came up to him saying:

"At your service, Don Carlos. What may be your pleasure?"

"The Señora Doña Josefina; will it be possible for me to speak with her?" replied Don Carlos Evaña, for he it was who had thus come to disturb the siesta of Doña Josefina.

"Certainly it will, Don Carlos," replied the mulatta. "It is late already," she added, looking up at the sun. "If you will have the goodness to pass to the sala, in one moment she will be with you."

Don Carlos passed to the sala as he was requested, but the one moment had spun itself out to half an hour ere the folding doors opened, and Doña Josefina glided into the room. She was dressed in a flowing robe of some soft, white material, loosely girded below her ample bosom; the short, loose sleeves left nearly the whole of her plump white arms visible; the upper part of her dress was surmounted by a stiff sort of ruff about three inches deep, which rose from her shoulders almost to the level of her ears, and the dress itself was open in front to within three inches of the girdle. Her luxuriant black hair was simply plaited and wound round her head till it formed a sort of coronet, gold pendants hung from her ears, and in her hand she carried a large fan with which she fanned herself gently as she sailed down the large room to the obscure corner in which Don Carlos had ensconced himself.

Don Carlos, reclining lazily in a low chair, was so absorbed in his own thoughts that her noiseless approach over the soft carpet was unperceived by him till she was close to him, when he started up from his seat and bowed lowly to her without speaking. Then as she stretched out her hand to him he raised it to his lips, an act of homage which the lady received with perfect complacency, after which, leading her to a sofa, he seated himself on a chair near to her saying:

"With your permission, Señora."

"It is yours, Don Carlos," replied the lady, languidly leaning one arm upon a cushion, and with her head slightly inclined to one side, turning her lustrous black eyes full upon him; then as he returned her glance she smiled and added: