Who Would Have Thought It?. María Ruiz de Burton
Indian chief, as well as his two sons, was fast convalescing, and it was advisable to hasten our departure before they were strong enough to give us trouble, whilst Doña Theresa herself was visibly declining in health, and daily becoming more weak and emaciated. The prospect of being forever separated from her child was rapidly killing her, and she knew it full well. But such was the self-sacrificing devotion of that lady, that sick and weak as she felt, with a sinking heart and no hope for herself, she never swerved from her purpose to set her child free, and then, literally, lie down and die. "The day fixed for our departure came.
We had thrown away, unknown to our escort, at night, when everybody was asleep, the greater part of our specimens,-breaking from each, to keep, a small piece, -to make room for the gold. We packed it all in two of our wagons, putting some ores and other traps which we had used in our expedition on the top of the gold, and then we were ready to start.
"I told the chief that, as he was on a fair way to get well, and both of his sons the same, I would now go on my journey down the river; that I would leave him my tent, where he could stay three or four days longer, if he wished. He begged me to remain a few days longer, as he was afraid that ña Hala was very sick. I told him I would see the ña Hala and ascertain whether she required my services.
"That night, about midnight, Sinclair started with the gold and Lola, and all our escort, leaving only Lebrun and Jim with me to follow next morning on horseback.
"When it was scarcely daylight, the Indian woman so devoted to Doña Theresa came to tell me that her mistress had ‘lain down to die,' and wished to see me; that they had both gone with Lola part of the way, and when the ña Hala felt that she had no strength to go farther, they returned, and had just arrived.
"In a miserable Indian hut lay the dying lady. The surroundings were cheerless enough to kill any civilized woman, but the bedclothes, I noticed, were as white as snow, and everything about her was clean and tidy. She smiled when she saw me, and said, ‘Thank God, Lolita is away from those horrid savages! Please do not forget that she must be baptized and brought up a Roman Catholic.' Her voice failed her, and she made a sign that she wished to sit up. We raised her, and, after drinking a little wine I gave her, she said she would like me to make a memorandum of some things she wished to tell me, so that if I ever found her husband, or her father, I would be able to give them news of her, and some idea of her terrible history since she was carried off by the Indians. I told her that Lebrun understood Spanish better than I; and, moreover, being a stenographer, he could take her words down as she spoke them. She was very much pleased at this suggestion, and I called Lebrun to take down her narrative as she told it. Lebrun will send the manuscript as soon as he transcribes it.
"Poor woman! That was a clear case of 'broken heart.' She died of sheer grief, and nothing else."
"But she gave you the diamonds before that?" asked Mrs. Norval.
The doctor looked at her, then arose, and began to undress, without answering.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE TROPHIES OF MILTIADES DO NOT LET ME SLEEP."
Miss LAVINIA SPRIG might never have read about the battle of Marathon, but certainly, there was a -similarity of thought and feeling between Themistocles after Marathon, and herself as she sat with the poker in her hand contemplating the dying fire.
Like the Greek general, she mourned for the laurels that might have been her own, and the good fortune of rivals kept her awake. She was thinking of Mrs. Hammerhard and Mrs. Hackwell, and how their husbands—both-had made love to her, and then run off and married them. And they had two babies each now,-her two victorious rivals were happy mothers,—whilst poor Lavinia was not even a wife! And that thought kept her awake.
Miss Lavinia was sadly looking on the receding past, though her gaze was fixed upon the darkening grate, full of ashes. Was she drawing mental comparisons between that grate and her own virginal bosom?
Quien sabe? But true it is that she suddenly gave the fire a tremendous thrust with the poker, exclaiming, "Villain!" A few bright sparks flew up from the expiring embers, and Miss Lavinia commenced a mental soliloquy, partly uttered:
"Yes, their babies! They are happy mothers, eh? I wonder if God will punish those two men for their lies and treachery to me? It is all I can do every Sunday to keep from screaming out from my pew to Hammerhard in his pulpit, "You liar! you liar! It would do me good if I did. And if I were to go to Hackwell's church, I don't think I could be able to contain myself; for he was the greater scoundrel of the two. Hammerhard proposed to me, and went off and married Lizzie Dix; but I wasn't positively engaged to him. But Hackwell was solemnly pledged to me,-the scoundrel, preaching scoundrel!"
Here Miss Lavinia gave a hard blow to the grate, muttering, "How very wrong girls are in permitting any liberties to men to whom they are engaged! How foolish! how silly! Who can tell what miserable liars they may not turn out to be? For I believe that men would rather lie to a woman than speak the truth. Who would not have trusted those two men? They are trusted now. My own sister believes all Hackwell says even now, and doesn't believe that he engaged himself to me. Oh, the rascals, the hypocrites, preaching morality every Sunday! Faugh! what nasty beasts men are!" And here Miss Lavinia, as if the word men filled her mouth with some of the ashes, in the grate, spat in disgust, and poked the fire vigorously in continued thrusts.
"What is the matter, Aunt Lavvy? Are you sick?" asked Ruth, who, standing unperceived by Lavvy, had been a silent spectator of that lady's last performance with the poker.
Lavinia started, and dropped the poker, which rolled down from the grate to her feet with a loud noise and clatter.
"No. I was thinking; that's all. But what makes you sit up so late? I thought you were in bed."
"So I was; but I couldn't sleep. I went to your room, for I wanted to ask you something, and, not finding you there, I came down to look for you in your favorite place, watching the fire, with the poker in your hand. I remember you told me this afternoon that I was angry with you, and I thought you would tell me the reason now."
"Oh, that is of no consequence. I only thought you were angry because I did not tell you to wear my things to Mrs. Hammerhard's christening. But you may. I am not going, and you can have them. I was thinking of something else when you said that if I went you couldn't go, because you needed some of my evening things. You can have what you like that I own,—which is little enough."
"It is more than I have; and I thank you, aunt. I only want your lace collar and sleeves, and your fan and pearl set. It is too bad that I don't own one bit of jewelry in the world but my cameo, which I wear every day of my life. I think mother is entirely too stingy, and I mean to tell papa that I ought to have a few things which girls must have. To think that I am twenty years old (and the daughter of a gentleman), and never in my life had one silk dress besides my black silk! And those two papa bought for me, and mamma scolded when he did it. She never would buy me a bit of jewelry. I always look like the old Nick himself, and I feel mortified and disgusted with life. I know I shall look as if just out of Noah's ark, with my old grenadine (I've been fixing it up), by the side of Julia Dix, who always dresses elegantly."
"Yes, those Dix girls always gave all their souls to their ribbons."
"That may be so; but I know that out of eight sisters seven are married, and Julia is engaged to a New York banker. Lizzie Hammerhard and Mary Hackwell are the only two of all the eight sisters who did not marry rich men. They married for love," added Ruth, maliciously. Lavinia arose hastily. But Ruth continued, saying, "Even old Lucretia Cackle looks better dressed than Mattie and I. And Emma Hackwell, who certainly is poorer than we are, she too is a great deal better dressed, and they look at our shabby clothes and sneer. But I always say to everybody that if mamma wasn't so economical we wouldn't be so shabby, and all know it is so."
"But you ought not to tell it."
"But I shall, and I'll speak to papa, too, the very first chance