The Insurgent Chief

"Are you of our country?"

"No, Señora, I am a foreigner."

"Ah!" said she, "You are not a heretic – an Englishman."

"No, Señora; I am an Italian professor."

"Very good. Have you lived long in our dear country?"

"Two years, Señora."

"And before that you were in Europe?"

"Pardon me, Señora; I lived in Chili, where I have for a long time resided at Valparaíso, Santiago, and subsequently at Aconchagua."

"Do you intend to remain among us?"

"I, at least, wish to do so, Señora; unhappily, the times are not favourable for a poor artist like me."

"That is true," pursued she, with interest. "Well, we will try to procure you some pupils."

"A thousand thanks for so much goodness, Señora," he humbly answered.

"You really interest me, and to prove how much I desire to assist you, this young lady will be pleased, for my sake, to take this very day her lesson with you," said she, pointing towards Doña Eva.

"I am at the orders of the young lady, as I am at yours, Señora," answered the old man, with a respectful bow.

"Well, that is agreed," said the abbess; and turning towards the portress, still motionless in the middle of the room, "My dear sister," added she, with a gracious smile, "be so good, I beg you, as to bring in some refreshments. You will return in an hour to accompany this gentleman to the door of the convent."

The portress bowed with a crabbed air, suddenly turned round, and left the room, casting a sour look around her.

There was a silence of two or three minutes, at the expiration of which the abbess gently rose, advanced on tiptoe towards the door, and opened it so suddenly, that the portress, whose eye was placed at the keyhole, stood confused and blushing at being thus surprised in the very act of a spy.

"Ah! You are still there, my dear sister!" said the abbess, without appearing to remark the confusion of the old portress; "I am glad of it. I had forgotten to beg you to bring me, when you return to reconduct this gentleman, my Book of Hours, that I left through forgetfulness this morning in the choir in my stall."

The portress bowed, grumbling between her teeth some incomprehensible excuses, and she went away almost with a run.

The abbess followed her a moment with her eyes, and then she returned, re-closed the door, over which she had let fall a heavy curtain in tapestry, and turning towards the old professor, who scarcely knew what countenance to assume:

"Respectable old man," said she to him, laughing, "cover up the locks of your fair hair, which are indiscreetly escaping from under your grey peruke."

"The devil!" cried the professor, quite taken aback, suddenly putting his two hands to his head, and at the same time letting his cane and his hat fall, the latter rolling several paces from him.

At this unorthodox exclamation, uttered in good French, the three ladies laughed afresh, whilst the disconcerted professor looked at them with fright, not understanding anything which had passed, and arguing nothing favourable to him from this railing and unexpected gaiety.

"Hush!" said the abbess, placing a delicate finger on her rosy lips. "Someone is coming."

They were silent.

She withdrew the curtain. Almost immediately the door opened, after a slight tap had been given to ask permission to enter.

It was two lay sisters, who brought sweets and refreshments, as the abbess had desired.

They placed the whole on a table, and then withdrew with a respectful bow.

The curtain was immediately dropped behind them.

"Do you now believe, my dear marchioness," said the superior, "that I was right in mistrusting our sister, the portress?"

"Oh yes, Madame; this woman, sold to our enemies, is wicked, and I dread for you the consequences of the rude lesson, although merited, that you have given her."

A brilliant flash darted from the black eyes of the young woman.

"It is for her to tremble, Madame," said she, "now that I have in my hand the proofs of her treason; but do not let us care for that," said she, resuming her cheerful countenance; "time presses, let us take our places at the table; and you, Señor, taste our preserves. I doubt whether, in the convents of your country, the nuns make such good ones."

The marchioness, remarking the embarrassed position and the piteous air of the stranger, quickly approached him, and said with a gracious smile —

"It is useless to keep up any further disguise," said she to him; "it is I, Señor, who have written to you; speak, then, without fear before Madame, she is my best friend, and my only protectress."

The painter breathed heavily.

"Madame," answered he, "you remove an immense weight from my breast. I humbly confess that I did not know what countenance to assume in seeing myself recognised so unawares. God be praised, who permits that this may come to a better termination than I feared a little while ago."

"You are an admirable actor, Señor," pursued the abbess; "your hair does not at all come out from under your peruke; I only wished to tease you a little, that is all. Now, drink, eat, and do not worry yourself about anything."

The collation was then attacked by the four persons, between whom the ice was now broken, and who talked gaily to each other. The abbess especially, young and merry, was charmed at this trick she was playing on the revolutionary authorities of Tucuman, in trying to carry away from them two persons to whom they seemed to attach so much importance.

"Now," said she, when the repast was finished, "let us talk seriously."

"Talk seriously – I should like nothing better," pursued the painter; "apropos of that, I shall permit myself to recall the phrase that you have yourself uttered – time presses."

"That is true; you are no doubt astonished to see me – the superior of a house which is almost a convent onto whom has been confided the care of two prisoners of importance – enter into a plot, the design of which is to permit them to escape."

"Indeed," murmured the painter, bowing; "that does appear rather strange to me."

"I have several motives for it, and your astonishment will cease when you know that I am a Spaniard, and have no sympathy with the revolution made by the inhabitants of this country, to drive my fellow countrymen out of it, to whom it belongs by every divine and human law."

"That appears to me logical enough."

"Moreover, in my opinion, a convent is not – and cannot, under any pretext, be metamorphosed into a prison. Again, women ought to be always placed out of the region of politics, and be left free to act in their own fashion. In fact, to sum up, the Marchioness de Castelmelhor is an old friend of my family; I love her daughter as a sister, and I wish to save them at all hazards, even if my life is paid for theirs."

The two ladies threw themselves into the arms of the abbess, loading her with caresses and thanks.

"Good, good," pursued she, gently motioning them aside, "let me continue; I have sworn to save you, and I will save you, come what may, my dear creatures. It would be marvellous, indeed," added she, smiling, "if three women, aided by a Frenchman, could not be clever enough to deceive these yellow men, who have made this disastrous revolution, and who believe themselves eagles of intelligence, and the thunderbolts of war."

"The more I reflect on this enterprise, the more I fear the consequences of it for you; I tremble, for these men are without pity," sadly murmured the marchioness.

"Poltroon!" gaily cried the superior; "Have we not the caballero with us?"