CHAPTER XV.
DON GUZMAN DE RIBERA.
In the year 1515 Juan Diaz de Solis discovered the Rio de la Plata,--adiscovery which cost him his life.
According to Herrera, this river to which Solis had first given his ownname, took the one it now bears from the fact that the first silverbrought from America was shipped at this point for Spain.
In 1535 Don Pedro de Mendoza, appointed _adelantado_, or governorgeneral, of the country between the Rio de la Plata and the Straits ofMagellan, founded on the right bank of the river, opposite the mouthof the Uruguay, a town called at first Nuestra Senora de Buenos Aires;later, La Trinidad de Buenos Aires; and finally, Buenos Aires,--a nameit has since retained.
The history of this town would be a curious study, full of interestingparticulars, as from its earliest days it seems stamped with the sealof fatality.
One should read, in the narrative of Ulrich Schmidel, a Germanadventurer, and one of the original founders of Buenos Aires, to whatdepths of misery the wretched conquerors of the country were reduced:how they were constrained by famine to devour the dead bodies of theircompanions, who had been killed by the Corendian Indians, whom theirexactions and cruelties had driven to exasperation; and who, believingthe white men who had landed amongst them in such an extraordinary wayto be evil genii, had sworn their extermination.
The destiny of this town is a singular one, condemned, as it has been,to an unceasing strife, sometimes with enemies from without, at others,with more formidable foes from within; and which, in spite of theseceaseless struggles, is still one of the richest and most flourishingcities of Spanish America.
Like all the towns founded by the Castilian adventurers in the NewWorld, Buenos Aires is placed in a lovely situation. Its streets arebroad, laid out by rule and line; the houses are well built, with agarden to each, thus affording a pleasant prospect. It contains manypublic buildings, among which we may name the Bazaar de la Recoba. Atintervals vast squares occur, well furnished with magnificent shops,which give it an appearance of life and prosperity unhappily too rarein this unfortunate country, so long distracted by civil wars.
Taking an immense leap backwards, we will now introduce our readersto Buenos Aires at a time about twenty years previous to the periodto which our story belongs. It is ten o'clock in the night of one ofthe last; days of September 1839, _i.e._ at the time the tyranny ofthat extraordinary man who, for twenty years, subjected the Argentineprovinces to a yoke of iron, had reached its climax.
Nobody in these days could imagine the hideous tyranny which theGovernment of Rosas inflicted on this beautiful country, nor thefrightful system of terrorism organized by the Dictator from oneextremity to the other of the Banda Oriental.
Although it was only ten o'clock, as we said above, a deathlike silencehovered over the town. All the shops were shut, all the streets darkand deserted, save when, at long intervals, they were traversed bystrong patrols, whose heavy footsteps resounded on the pavement; orby a few solitary _serenos_ (watchmen), who, in fear and trembling,shambled through their duty as guardians of the night.
The inhabitants, shut up in their dwellings, had timidly extinguishedtheir lights, for fear of exciting the suspicions of a police everready to take offence, and had sought a temporary refuge in slumberfrom the evils of the day.
On this particular night Buenos Aires was more desolate-looking thanusual. The wind had blown, in a storm from the Pampas during the wholeof the day, and filled the atmosphere with an icy chill. Large vividclouds, laden with electricity, were moving heavily through the sky;and the hoarse rumbling of distant thunder, and the nearer and nearerapproaching flashes of lightning, gave warning that a fearful stormwas on the point of breaking over the city.
Nearly in the centre of the Calle Santa Trinidad, one of the fineststreets in the city, which it traverses almost from end to end, afeeble light, placed behind the muslin curtain of a window on theground floor, twinkled, like a star in a dark sky, through the tuftedbranches of some trees planted in front of a noble mansion.
This light seemed to be a blot upon the universal obscurity; for everypatrol that passed, every _sereno_ whom chance brought to the spot,could not refrain from pausing, and observing it with an expressionof anger and ill-dissembled fear: after which they would resume theirmarch, the soldiers growling, in a tone of ill humour boding no good:
"There is that traitor, Don Guzman de Ribera, hatching some newconspiracy against his Excellency the Dictator."
The others saying, in a tone of subdued pity:
"Don Guzman will go on till he gets himself arrested some day."
It is into this house, and into the room itself where the light isshining, which gave rise to so many surmises, that we will introduceour readers.
After having crossed the garden and cleared the _zaguan_, we find onour right hand a massive door of walnut, fastened simply by a latch,on lifting which we enter a large room, well lighted by three windowsopening on the street.
The furniture of this apartment was of the greatest simplicity. Thewhitewashed walls were decorated with a few of those abominablecoloured prints which the trade of Paris has exported into all regionsof the globe, and which are supposed to represent the death ofPoniatowski, the seasons, &c. The inevitable Soufleto's piano--whichin all Spanish-American houses one sees thrust forward into the mostconspicuous place, but which is happily beginning to be replaced by theAlexandre harmonium--a dozen chairs, a round table covered with a greencloth, two armchairs, and a clock with alabaster columns, on a piertable, completed the inventory.
In this room a man, dressed in a travelling costume, with _poncho_(cloak) and _polenas_ (boots), was striding up and down, castingimpatient and restless looks at the clock every time he passed thetable.
Sometimes he paused, lifted the curtain of a window, and tried topierce the obscurity of night and see into the street; but in vain; thedarkness was too great for him to distinguish objects. Sometimes helistened attentively, as if amongst the noises of the town the breezehad brought him the distant echo of a sound significant to him; thenhe resumed, with a gesture of ill humour and increasing agitation, thewalk he had so often interrupted.
This man was Don Guzman de Ribera.
Belonging to one of the best families in the country, and descendingin a direct line from the first conquerors, Don Guzman, when stillvery young, had served a rude apprenticeship in arms under his father.During the war of independence, as aide-de-camp to San Martin, he hadfollowed that general when he crossed the Cordilleras at the head ofhis army, and revolutionised Chili and Peru.
Since that period he had served continually, sometimes under one chief,sometimes under another; always striving, to the best of his ability,to avoid ranging himself under a flag hostile to the true interestsof his country--a difficult task amidst those perpetual convulsionscaused by the petty ambition of men without real importance, who werecontending for power amongst themselves. Nevertheless, thanks to hisdexterity, and still more to the uprightness of his character, DonGuzman had managed to keep himself stainless: yet two years previously,suspected by Rosas, to whom his ideas of true liberality were odious,he had retired from the service, and settled himself at home.
Don Guzman, a true soldier in the most honourable acceptation of theword, although never ostensibly meddling with politics, was greatlydreaded by the Dictator, on account of the influence his loyal andresolute character gave him over his countrymen, who felt for hima sympathy so profound, and a devotedness so complete, that morethan once General Rosas, a man of few scruples, had been forced torelinquish the idea of ridding himself, by exile or worse means, of aman whose seclusion and noble pride seemed to cast a shadow over theactions of the Dictator.
At the moment we bring him before our readers, Don Guzman had justreached his fortieth year; but notwithstanding the countless fatigueshe had undergone, and which had only hardened him, age seemed to havetaken no hold of his vigorous organism.
His tall and muscular figure was as upright, th
e expression of hisface as full of calm intelligence, his eye as brilliant as ever. A fewsilver threads among his hair, and one or two wrinkles, written on hisforehead more by thought than by time, were the only signs that he hadalready attained middle age.
The clock had struck half past ten some minutes ago, when several rudeblows were struck on the door, making Don Guzman tremble.
He stopped and listened.
A lively altercation appeared to be taking place under the _zaguan_of the house. Unfortunately, the room being too far from the porch,Don Guzman could only hear a confused uproar, without being able todistinguish the sounds. But in a short time the noise ceased, the doorof the room was opened, and a domestic entered. We must suppose him tobe a confidential servant, judging by the manner in which his masterspoke to him.
"Well, Diego, what is it? What is the meaning of all this noise at suchan hour?"
The servant approached his master before he answered, and bowing,whispered in his ear: "Don Diego Pedrosa."
"He!" said the master, frowning. "Is he alone?"
"I do not think he has more than two or three soldiers with him."
"Which means," said Don Guzman, looking more and more gloomy--
"That he has another score or two concealed close at hand."
"What does the man want with me? It is hardly the hour for a visit.Don Bernardo is scarcely so intimate with me," he added, with a bittersmile, "that he would act with so little ceremony towards me without anurgent reason."
"Exactly what I did myself the honour to remark to him, yourExcellency."
"And he persists?"
"Yes, Excellency. He tells me he has business of the utmost importanceto communicate."
Don Guzman strode up and down with a pensive air.
"Listen, Diego," said he, at last; "see that the servants armthemselves quietly, and be ready at the first signal; but actprudently, so as to avoid suspicion."
"Trust me, Excellency," said the old servitor, with a smile ofintelligence.
For thirty years Diego had been in the service of the Ribera family;many a time had he given his master proof of his boundless attachment.
"Ah, well," replied Don Guzman good humouredly; "I know pretty wellwhat you can do."
"And the horses?" continued the servant.
"Let them stay where they are."
"Even if we are to be off directly?" said Diego, in amazement.
"We shall be off so much the sooner, _muchacho_," said the don,whispering to his servant, "if they do not think we have seen theirtrap and are about to throw dust in their eyes."
Diego nodded.
"And Don Bernardo?" he asked.
"Admit him. I had rather know the worst at once."
"Is it quite prudent for your Excellency to see this man alone?"
"No fear, Diego; he is not so terrible as you think. Are my pistols inmy _poncho?_"
The old servant, probably tranquillised by these words, left the roomwithout replying; but returned almost immediately, showing in a manof about thirty, dressed in the uniform of a staff officer of theArgentine army.
At sight of the stranger, Don Guzman smiled pleasantly, and advancinga few steps towards him, said:
"You are welcome, Colonel Pedrosa"--he made a sign to Diego toretire--"although the hour is rather late for a visit. I am delightedto see you. Pray be seated."
"Your Excellency will excuse me, on account of the business whichbrings me here," replied the colonel, with a polished bow.
Here Diego, obeying the reiterated signs of his master, left the room,although much against his will.
The two men, seated face to face, looked at each other much like twoduellists about to cross their blades.
Don Diego was a handsome man, of slender and upright figure, allwhose movements betrayed his noble birth, and were marked by the mostconsummate elegance.
His face, a perfect oval, was embellished by two large black andsparkling eyes, from which, when he grew excited, fire seemed to flash,possessing an electric power so potent, that few could support theirdazzling effulgence. His straight nose, with its open and flexiblenostrils; his well-formed mouth, with its astute and sarcastic outline,and its set of brilliant teeth, surmounted by an ebon and well-trimmedmoustache; his open forehead, and his complexion slightly tanned byexposure to the sun,--gave to his face, which was encircled by longsilky curls of magnificent black hair,--a haughty and commandingexpression, inspiring an instinctive repulsion by its frigid energy.
His bands, ensconced in admirably fitting gloves, and his varnishedboots, were of wonderfully small size,--in fact, his whole person was atype of his race.
Such was the personage who, at eleven o'clock at night, knocked atDon Guzman's door, and insisted on admittance, under the pretext ofimportant business. As for his moral qualities, the progress of ourstory will exhibit them so perfectly, that it would be useless to enterinto the details at present.
However, as the silence between these two personages threatened toprolong itself indefinitely, Don Guzman, in his quality of host,thought it incumbent on him to put an end to a situation which began tobe embarrassing to both; so he broke it.
Bowing with courtesy, he said:
"_Caballero_, I am waiting for what you may please to communicate tome. It grows late."
"Aha! You wish to get rid of me," said the colonel, with a sardonicsmile. "Is that what you wish me to understand?"
"It is always my aim to make my speech so clear and open, colonel,that there may be no possibility of my words bearing a doubleinterpretation."
Don Bernardo's cheeks, which had flushed up when Don Guzman spoke,resumed their natural colour, and assuming a tone of pleasantry, hesaid:
"Look you, Don Guzman; we will put away all idea of sparring with eachother. I have a great desire to serve you."
"Me!" said Don Guzman, with a look of ironical amazement; "Are youquite sure of that?"
"If we continue in this strain, _caballero_, we shall only envenom ourdiscussion, without coming to an understanding."
"Alas, colonel, we live in an era (and you know it better than mostmen) in which the most innocent actions are so often made to looklike guilt, that no one dares to take a step or hazard a word withoutdreading to excite the suspicions of a power that broods darkly over usall. How can I put faith in the words you have just spoken, when yourwhole conduct towards me has hitherto been that of an inveterate enemy?"
"Allow me to waive for the present the discussion of the questionwhether I have acted for or in opposition to your interests. The daywill come, _caballero_--at least I hope so--when you will judge meaccording to my deserts. My present hope is, that you will lay asideall prejudice as regards the step I am now taking."
"If that be the case, have the goodness to explain your intentions,that I may act accordingly."
"Certainly, _caballero._ I have just left Palermo."
"Palermo, indeed!" said Don Guzman, shuddering imperceptibly.
"I have; and do you know what they are doing at Palermo tonight?"
"By my faith, I confess I trouble myself very little about theDictator, especially when he is busy at his _quinta_ (country house).They are dancing, or otherwise amusing themselves there, I suppose?"
"Quite right: they are dancing and amusing themselves."
"By heavens!" said the other, "I did not think I was so good a diviner."
"Well, you have guessed a part of their occupation, but not the whole."
"The devil! You puzzle one," replied Don Guzman laughing sardonically."I do not see too clearly what his Excellency can have to do beyonddancing, unless he amuses himself with signing warrants against thesuspected. His Excellency is endowed with great capabilities forbusiness."
"This time you have divined the whole, _caballero_," said the colonel,without appearing to notice the ironical tone of the speaker.
"And amongst these warrants there is, I dare say, one which concerns memore particularly."
"Precisely so," replied the colonel, wit
h a bland smile.
"Very good. What follows is quite simple: you are charged to put it inexecution."
"Just so," said the colonel coolly.
"I would have laid a hundred to one on it! And this warrants enjoinsyou--"
"To put you under arrest, _caballero._"
No sooner had the colonel uttered these words with the most charmingindifference, than Don Guzman was standing before him, a pistol in eachhand.
"By heavens!" said he resolutely, "Such an order is easier given thanexecuted when the person to be arrested is Don Guzman de Ribera!"
The colonel had not stirred; he had remained lounging in his armchair,in the attitude of a man quite at home with his host. He made a sign tothe _caballero_ to be seated again.
"You are quite mistaken," said he coolly. "Nothing would have beeneasier for me than to execute the warrant, if I had any intention tocarry it out, especially as you yourself have furnished me with themeans."
"I!" said Don Guzman.
"Yourself: you are a resolute man; you would have resisted it, as youhave just proved. Now, what would have happened? I should have killedyou. General Rosas, in spite of the interest he feels for you, has notabsolutely ordered me to take you alive."
The reasoning was brutal, but perfectly logical. Don Guzman bowed hishead: he felt he was in this man's power.
"Nevertheless, you are my foe," he said.
"?Quien sabe?" (who can tell?) "Senor, in times such as we live in, noone can say who is friend or who is foe."
"But finally, what are your intentions?" exclaimed Don Guzman, in astate of nervous excitement, increased by the necessity of dissemblingthe fury that was raging in his mind.
"I will tell you; but I beg you will not interrupt me. We havealready lost much time--which is valuable just now, more especiallyto yourself, as you ought to know. At the very moment when I came todisturb you, you were giving orders to your confidential servant Diegoto get ready your horses."
"Indeed!" said Don Guzman.
"It is the fact. You were only deferring your flight till the arrivalof a certain _guacho_" (Mexican inhabitant of the prairies) "to guideyou through the Pampas."
"Do you know that too?"
"We know everything. As for the rest, judge for yourself. Your brother,Don Leoncio de Ribera, a refugee with his family for many years inChili, is to arrive this very night within a few leagues of BuenosAires. You have been advised of his coming for some days. It was yourintention to repair to the Hacienda del Pico, where he was to expectyou; then to introduce him surreptitiously into the city, where youhave prepared what you fancied would be a safe hiding place for him. Isthis the whole, or have I forgotten any minor particulars?"
Don Guzman covered his face with his hands, discouraged,thunderstricken by what he had just heard.
A horrible gulf yawned before his eyes. If Rosas was master of hissecret--and that he was, the revelations of the colonel left no room todoubt--his death and that of his brother had been sworn by the ruthlessDictator. Hope would have been a folly.
"Good God!" cried he; "My brother--my poor brother!"
The colonel seemed to enjoy for a moment the effect produced by hiswords; then he resumed, in a quiet and insinuating manner:
"Calm yourself, Don Guzman; all is not yet lost. The details I havementioned, and which you thought such a profound secret, are known tome alone. The order for your arrest does not come into execution beforesunrise tomorrow. The stop I have taken should prove to you that I haveno wish to make an unfair use of the advantage chance has placed in myhands."
"But again I say, What is your intention? In the name of the devil,what are you?"
"What am I?--Your enemy. My intention?--To save you."
Don Guzman did not reply. A prey to the most violent emotion, hiswhole body trembled with agitation. The colonel shrugged his shouldersimpatiently.
"Let us understand each other," said he. "You wait in vain for the_guacho_ on whom you reckoned: he is dead."
"Dead!" cried Don Guzman, struck with astonishment.
"The man," continued Don Bernardo, "was a traitor. He had hardlyentered Buenos Aires, before he attempted to make money by the sale ofthe secret confided to him by your brother. Chance would have it thathe should apply to me, in preference to anyone else, on account of thehatred I seemed to entertain for your family."
"That you seemed to entertain!" bitterly repeated Don Guzman.
"Yes, that I seemed to entertain," Don Bernardo went on, laying greatstress upon the words. "In short, this man revealed everything. I paidhim well, and let him go."
"What an imprudence!" exclaimed Don Guzman, highly interested.
"Was it not?" said the colonel quickly. "But what could I do? For thefirst moment I was so thunderstruck by the news, that I did not thinkof detaining the fellow. I was on the point of sending in search ofhim, when I heard an uproar in the street. I inquired the cause; Iconfess I was not quite satisfied with what was told me. It appearsthat the fool had hardly put foot in the street before he began toquarrel with another _picaro_ of his own kind; that the latter, in afit of impatience, had given him a _navaja_" (a cut with the knife)"across his belly, and, luckily for you, killed him outright. It ismiraculous, is it not?"
The colonel had related this strange tale with the same negligentindifference he had exhibited during the whole meeting, and which hehad not dropped for an instant. Don Guzman cast a penetrating glance athim, which he bore with the greatest unconcern. Then all irresolutionseemed to vanish. He raised himself to his full height, and made acourteous inclination to Don Bernardo.
"Excuse me, colonel," said he fervently, "for having mistaken yourcharacter; but up to this day everything seemed to justify my conduct;only, in the name of Heaven, if you are my foe--if you have a hate tosatisfy--take your revenge on me--on me alone--and spare my brother,against whom you can have no cause for animosity."
Don Bernardo frowned, but replied quickly:
"_Caballero_, order your servants to bring round your horses; I myselfwill escort you out of the city. You could not possibly quit it withoutme; you are so thoroughly surrounded by spies. You have nothing to fearfrom the men who are with me; they are trusty and faithful, and I chosethem on purpose. Besides, they shall leave us a few paces hence."
Don Guzman hesitated for a while. He watched Don Bernardo with anxiouseyes. At last he seemed to have formed his resolve; for he rose, andsaid, looking the colonel full in the face:
"No; whatever may happen, I will not take your advice."
The colonel suppressed his feeling of dissatisfaction.
"Are you mad?" said he; "Remember--"
Don Guzman interrupted him:
"My decision is made," said he dryly. "I will not leave this roomwithout a perfect knowledge of the reason of this strange conduct onyour part. I have tried to overcome it, but a secret presentimentassures me that you are still my foe; and if you now utter a feignedwish to serve me, colonel, it is only with the purpose of carrying outsome diabolical plan against me and mine."
"Beware, _caballero_! When I came here, my purpose was friendly. Yourobstinacy will compel me to break off a colloquy which we can neverresume. I have but one thing to add: whatever the reason for my actionsmay be, I have only one wish--to save you. This is the sole explanationI have the right to give."
"But that will not suffice, _caballero._"
"And why, if it please you?" said the colonel haughtily.
"Because matters have occurred between you and a certain member of myfamily which give me a right to look upon any intentions of yours ashostile."
The colonel trembled; a livid pallor stole over his countenance.
"Indeed!" said he hoarsely. "So you know that, Senor Don Guzman?"
"I will answer you in the exact words in which you replied to me a fewminutes ago; I know all!"
Don Bernardo cast down his eyes, and clenched his hands in concentratedrage.
There was silence for a time.
Just at this mom
ent a _sereno_ passed through the street, paused closeto the walls of the house, and cried, in a cracked and drunken voice,the hour of the night:
"_iAve, Maria purisima! Las doce han dado y sereno!_" ("Hail, purestMary! Twelve o'clock, and a fine night!")
Then his heavy step was heard as he went on his rounds, until itgradually died away in the distance.
The two men shuddered, thus suddenly aroused from their preoccupation.
"Midnight already!" muttered Ribera in a tone of mingled regret andanxiety.
"Let us end this," resolutely exclaimed Don Bernardo. "Since nothingwill convince you of the honesty of my intentions; since you exact fromme revelations which concern myself alone--"
"And one other person," supplied Don Guzman.
"I will admit it," continued the colonel impatiently.
"Well, are you satisfied now? It is solely because I know I shall meetthis person at the Hacienda del Pico, that I wish to accompany you. Imust have an interview. Do you understand me now?"
"Yes; I understand you perfectly."
"Then what are your objections?"
"You are deceiving yourself, _caballero_," answered Don Guzman coolly.
"Oh! This time I swear you are mistaken."
"Then I shall go alone!--That is all."
"Beware, once more!" said the colonel; "My patience is exhausted."
"And mine, colonel! Yes, I repeat, I scorn your threats! Do what youthink fit, _caballero._ God will aid me."
At these words a disdainful smile passed over the lips of the colonel;he rose, and planted himself before Don Guzman, who was standing in themiddle of the room.
"Are those your last words, senor?" said he.
"The last."
"Your blood be upon your own head! It is you who have willed it so,"shouted the colonel, casting on him a glance of fury.
And without taking any further notice of his foe, who remainedapparently cold and impassive, he turned to leave the chamber, a preyto the most violent emotion.
Don Guzman, profiting by this movement of the colonel, dexterouslythrew off his _poncho_, cast it over the head of Don Bernardo, mufflinghim up in it in such a manner that he was bound and gagged before hecould attempt to defend himself.
"For one trump a higher!" laughed Don Ribera.
"As you are determined to go with me, you shall, but in a differentfashion to what you expected."
For answer, the colonel made a vain but desperate effort to freehimself from his bonds.
"And now for the others!" exclaimed Don Guzman, with a triumphant lookat his enemy, who was rolling on the floor in a paroxysm of impotentrage.
Five minutes later, the few soldiers who had been left in the _zaguan_were disarmed by the servants, bound with cords they had themselvesbrought for a far different purpose, and deposited on the steps of theneighbouring cathedral, where they were left to their fate.
As to the colonel, the old soldier, who had just shown so much presenceof mind, had no idea as he had said himself, of leaving him behind. Onthe contrary, he had weighty reasons for taking him with him in thehazardous adventure he was about to undertake. So, as soon as he was onhorseback, he threw his prisoner across the pummel of his saddle, andleft the house attended by several trusty servants, well mounted, andarmed to the teeth.
"Speed! Speed!" he cried, as soon as the door was closed. "Who knowsbut that this traitor may have sold us beforehand?"
The little party started at a gallop, and traversed the city--desertedat that time of night--with the speed of a storm wind.
But as soon as the riders reached the commencement of the suburbs,they gradually slackened their pace, and finally halted, at a sign fromDon Guzman.
That gentleman had totally forgotten one thing, and a very importantone. It was, that during the time the city was suffering under the ruleof Rosas, it was under martial law; and consequently, after a certainhour, it was impossible to pass out without the watchword, which waschanged every night, and given by the Dictator himself. It was anembarrassing situation. Don Guzman's looks fell upon the prisoner infront of him; for a single moment he thought of liberating his head,and demanding the watchword, which he would certainly know. But anothermoment's reflection made him relinquish the idea of trusting to a manto whom he had just offered a mortal insult, and who would certainlyembrace the first opportunity that offered for revenge. He determined,therefore, to trust to audacity, and act according to circumstances.Consequently, having warned his servants to look to their arms, andbe in readiness to use them at his first signal, he gave the order toadvance.
They had ridden a few hundred paces farther, when they heard the soundof a musket being cocked, followed immediately by the words, "Who goesthere?" lustily halloaed.
Luckily, the night was intensely dark. The moment for audacity had come.
Don Guzman responded, in a sharp and firm voice:
"Colonel Pedrosa! _iRonde mashorca!_"[1]
"Where are you going?" said the sentry.
"To Palermo," replied Ribera, "by orders of the well-beloved GeneralRosas."
"Pass!" said the sentry.
The little party was swallowed up in the jaws of the ponderous gate; itgalloped through, and was soon lost in the darkness.
Thanks to his audacity, Don Guzman had escaped from utmost peril.
The _serenos_ were chanting the half-hour after midnight when thetravellers left the last houses of Buenos Aires behind them.
[1] The "mashorca rounds,"--a nickname given to the bodyguards of theDictator; literally, "more gallows."
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