Who Would Have Thought It?. María Ruiz de Burton
of the lady I don't know much, except how she got the gold and the diamonds little by little, and" "What diamonds?" interrupted Mrs. Norval, eagerly. "What do you mean? You have not mentioned diamonds to me."
"No; nor the emeralds and rubies I have not," said the doctor, with provoking nonchalance, lighting his pipe leisurely and puffing the smoke at long intervals. "I had not mentioned the"-puff, puff"diamonds and emeralds and opals;"--puff, puff"I hadn't got to that"-puff, puff—"point in my story. The poor lady did not give them to me until the day she died,-after we had sent off the gold, and after she told us how she was carried off by the Apache Indians, and then sold to the Mohave Indians, and how Lolita was born five months after her capture. So you see how Lolita's blood is pure Spanish blood, her mother being of pure Spanish descent and her father the same, though an Austrian by birth, he having been born in Vienna. These particulars I remember well, as Lebrun and I thought them so very strange, and the fate of so highly-born a lady so sadly unfortunate."
"But how did she keep the diamonds and save so much gold all this time?" asked Mrs. Norval, intent upon her own thoughts, and caring very little for the sad fate of any woman just then.
· Where are the diamonds? Let me see them, before you go on with your narrative."
The doctor, again taking the bunch of keys from his pocket, went to his traveling-trunk, and, opening it, took out a buckskin bag, and from it a piece of cloth in which were tied a number of pebbles of nearly uniform size. He spread the pebbles on the table, and said to his wife, "Here they are; and I can pick you out each of the different stones by the color showing through those little places where the rough coating is rubbed off.'
Great disappointment was depicted in Mrs. Norval's face as she saw those rough pebbles spread before her eager eyes. She was unable to withhold the expression of her contempt. She exclaimed,
"Pshaw, doctor! These can't be real diamonds. They must be what they call 'California diamonds,' which are a sort of bright pebble, but no diamond."
"I flatter myself, wife, that I am a pretty good judge of precious stones, though I am no jeweler; and I tell you these are splendid gems, in size and in quality. The poor lady was no fool, and she made her selection quite as judiciously as could be done by the best judge of gems. She had some diamond rings on her fingers when she was captured, and with those rings, she told me, she managed to scratch the surface of these rough pebbles and ascertain that they were diamonds. Accidentally, whilst bathing in a small stream which is tributary to the Colorado River, she saw a very bright, shining pebble. She picked it up, and, as she had some knowledge of precious stones, she saw it was a large diamond, though only partly divested of its rough coating. Then she looked about for similar pebbles, and found many more. Afterwards she followed the little rivulet from which they seemed to come down, and, following it, was led up to the side of a hill and down a ravine, where, as if they had been washed thither by the rains, she found opals and larger diamonds. Afterwards the Indians brought her emeralds and rubies, seeing that she liked pretty pebbles. Thus she made a fine collection, for she took only the largest and those which seemed to her most perfect."
Mrs. Norval now condescended to examine the pebbles. Yes, they all showed shining spots,---more or less bright, more or less large,-and the places where the poor captive had scratched them with her ring. On further examination, Mrs. Norval discovered larger spots of light, which showed that most of the pebbles had been rubbed hard against each other, as the bright spots corresponded in size and shape. The same was the case with the emeralds. No, there was no doubt in Mrs. Norval's mind; they must be real gems; and yet she frowned. Then she said,
And these diamonds also belong to the little nig-I mean the little girl?"
"Of course they do. To whom should they belong but to Lola?"
"Didn't her mother give you anything for taking charge of her daughter for life?"
CHAPTER VI.
LOLA COMMENCES HER EDUCATION.
"The mother did not leave the child with me for life. She wished me to take care of Lola whilst I make inquiries about her family. When Lebrun sends me the manuscript of her narrative, I shall know the names of her relatives and where to look for them. In the mean time, my duty is to take care of Lolita, send her to school, or have her taught at home, and invest her money judiciously."
The face of Mrs. Norval fell. All this glittering fortune which she – vaguely as to the way, but clearly as to the intent-had resolved to share,-all this brilliant fortune might leave her house too soon for her to mature any plan to participate in it. The despised black child she now would give worlds to keep. She would go on her knees to serve her, as her servant, her slave, rather than let her go. Oh, if Lebrun only would keep that manuscript forever! Yes, so that the doctor would not be able to find her relations and Lola remain with them! Thus ran the thoughts of the high-principled matron; but never once did it occur to her that she had sent the child to sleep with the cook and the chambermaid, and she did not know that the little girl was now crying as if her heart were breaking, calling her mother between sobs, sitting up in a dark room, and with the snoring of the two Irishwomen for sole response to her impassioned apostrophes. Lola had refused to share the bed of either of the two servants, and both had resented the refusal as a most grievous insult.
"I am shure I don't want to slape with any of the likes of ye, naither. Niggers ain't my most particliest admirashun, I can tell ye, no more nor toads nor cateypillars. Haith! I think, on the whole, I prefer the cateypillars, as a more dacent sort of a baste," said cook, giving Lola a withering look. Then, with the dexterity of a conjurer, she gave a pull to certain strings about her stomach, whereupon the whole structure of her apparel came tumbling down magically, to Lola's great astonishment, who had no idea but what that hoop-skirt was part of cook's mortal coil.
With dilated orbs, Lola gazed upon the fallen hoop and skirts, then upon that figure clad in an inner garment (which hardly reached to the corrugated knee), standing in the centre of the circle like a stubby column in the middle of a blackened ruin. Cook, being a good Catholic and a lady of spirit, crossed herself earnestly but hurriedly, shook her fist threateningly at Lola, and bolted into bed, leaving behind, in the middle of her hoop-skirt, a pair of shapeless shoes, like two dead crows, and carrying with her to bed a pair of stockings which had been blue, but now were black, and had the privilege of ascending to her ankles, where they modestly coiled themselves in two black rings, and went no farther.
Hannah, the chambermaid, was not so repulsive to look upon; still, the' thought of sharing her bed was to Lola very terrible. Trembling with fear of giving yet more offense to the sensitive Irish ladies, the poor child timidly asked them if they could spare for that night a blanket and a pillow, to go to sleep by herself on the floor.
"I knew that. I knew she would like the floor much better. She ain't used to a nice, dacent bed, that is the nature of her!" said the indignant cook.
Hannah gave Lola a blackened pillow, but told her she could not spare a blanket. Lola said her shawl would do, and Hannah put out the candle. Then the two offended ladies began their nasal duo, and Lola her heart-breaking laments. The louder the Irishwomen snored, the more terrified Lola felt at the darkness and silence beyond that discordant noise, until, almost frantic with terror and desolation, and almost stilling with the foulness of the air, the child, trembling with fear, staggered out of the room and went to lie in the hall, -anywhere, only as far from the Irishwomen as possible. She groped her way along the hall until she felt a door, and at her feet a carpet: it was the mat before Mrs. Norval's door, Suppressing her sobs, Lola lay down on the mat, quietly wrapping her shawl around her shivering body. Jack was lying at Miss Lavinia's door, and kindly came to nestle at her side, wagging his tail apologetically, as if not sure that Lola would appreciate his feelings.
Seeing that his wife made no observation after his last remarks, the doctor continued, saying,
"Yes, my first care must be to invest the gold; then I'll see to the cutting of the stones. It seems to me they will make more jewelry than Lola wants: I