The Insurgent Chief

"I have," said he, "but one thing which vexes me."

"You, Don Santiago – you much astonish me; can it be that you are on bad terms with your brother, Don Pablo?"

"My brother, it is true, has something to do with the affair, but with him personally I have no misunderstanding – at least I believe so, for with him one never knows how to act; no, it is only on your account that I am chagrined just now."

"On my account!" cried the young man with surprise, "I confess I do not understand you."

"Speak lower; there is no occasion for our companions to hear what we say. Look you, Don Emile, I wish to be frank with you. We are about to separate, perhaps never to see one another again – and I hope, for your sake, it may be so. I wish our parting to be friendly, and that you should not entertain any ill feeling against me."

"I assure you, Don Santiago – "

"I know what I say," interrupted he, with some vivacity; "you have rendered me a great service. I cannot deny that, to a certain extent, I owe my life to you, for when I met you in the cavern of the rancho my position was almost desperate; well, I have not, in appearance, conducted myself towards you as I ought to have done. I engaged myself to shelter you and yours from the danger which threatened you, and I have conducted you to Casa-Frama, when I ought, on the contrary, to have taken you in quite an opposite direction. I know that I have acted badly in this aspect, and you have a right to entertain ill feeling to me. But I was not free to do otherwise. I was forced to obey a will stronger than my own – the will of my brother – whom no one has ever dared to resist. Now, I acknowledge my fault, and I wish as much as possible to repair the evil I have done, and that I have allowed to be done."

"That is speaking like a caballero and a man of heart, Don Santiago. Be assured that, come what may, I shall be pleased at what you tell me at this moment; but, since you have begun so well, do not leave me any longer in the painful doubt in which I now am; answer me sincerely, will you?"

"Yes, as far as it depends on me."

"The ladies that I have been obliged to abandon, do they run any danger at present?"

"I think so."

"On the part of your brother?"

"Yes, on his, and others also. These two strangers have implacable enemies bent on their destruction."

"Poor women!" murmured the young man, sighing; "They will not, then, leave the camp?"

"Yes; tomorrow, at sunrise, they will quit it, escorted by the officer who, in our presence, claimed them of my brother."

"Do you know that officer?"

"A little."

"Who is he?"

"That I cannot say; I have sworn not to reveal it to anyone."

The Frenchman saw that he must not persist, so he modified his questions.

"What route will they take?" asked he.

"That which we are following."

"And they are going – "

"Towards the Brazilian frontier."

"So they will rejoin General Castelmelhor?"

The Pincheyra shook his head negatively.

"Then why take this direction?"

"I do not know."

"And, nevertheless, you think that danger threatens them?"

"Terrible."

"Of what kind?"

"I do not know."

The young man stamped his foot with vexation. These continual reticences on the part of the partisan disquieted him more than the truth, so frightful that he kept watching out to hear it.

"So," pursued he, after a pause, "supposing I remain here for some time, I shall see them."

"There is no doubt of it."

"What do you advise?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Nothing; I am not, like you, in love with Doña Eva," said he, with a certain tinge of raillery which made the young man start.

"In love with Doña Eva!" – cried he – "I!"

"What other motive could induce you, with all the chances against you, to risk your life to save her, if it were not so."

The young man did not answer. A light flashed suddenly on his mind. That secret, which he had hid from himself, others knew it; and when he did not dare to question himself on this insensate love which burned within him, the certainty of its existence was discovered even by strangers.

"Oh!" stammered he at last; "Don Santiago, do you think me capable of such a folly?"

"I do not know if it is a folly to love when one is young and ardent as you are," coldly answered the Pincheyra. "I have never loved but my horse and my gun; but I know well that the love of two young and handsome beings is a law of nature, and that I do not see what reason you should have to try and escape from it I do not blame you or approve you; I state a fact – that is all."

The young painter was astonished to hear a man speak thus who, up to that time, he had supposed to be endowed with a very moderate share of intelligence, and all whose aspirations seemed to him directed towards war and pillage. This half savage, uttering with so careless an air sentiments so humanely philosophic, seemed to him an incomprehensible phenomenon.

The Pincheyra, without appearing to notice the impression that he had produced on his companion, continued quietly —

"The officer who escorts these ladies, not only is ignorant of your love for the youngest of the two ladies, but he is not even aware that you know them. For particular and personal reasons, my brother has thought proper to keep silence on that subject. I give you this information, the correctness of which I guarantee, because it will be of service to you in case of need."

"Now, it is too late."

"Don Emile, know this – that immediately after our conversation my companions and I will withdraw, for our mission is terminated; and if I have remained so long with you, it is because I decided to tell you certain things."

"I thank you for it."