by W. H. Hudson
CHAPTER XXIV
I spent several days with the Peraltas at their desolate, _kineless_cattle-farm, which was known in the country round simply as _Estancia_or _Campos de Peralta._ Such wearisome days they proved to me, and soanxious was I getting about Paquita away in Montevideo, that I was morethan once on the point of giving up waiting for the passport, which DonFlorentino had promised to get for me, and boldly venture forth withouteven that fig-leaf into the open. Demetria's prudent counsels, however,prevailed, so that my departure was put off from day to day. The onlypleasure I experienced in the house arose from the belief I entertainedthat my visit had made an agreeable break in the sad, monotonous lifeof my gentle hostess. Her tragical story had stirred my heart to avery deep pity, and as I grew every day to know her better I began toappreciate and esteem her for her own pure, gentle, self-sacrificingcharacter. Notwithstanding the dreary seclusion in which she had lived,seeing no society, and with only those old servants, so primitive intheir ways, for company, there was not the slightest trace of rusticityin her manner. That, however, is not saying much for Demetria, since inmost ladies--most women I might almost say--of Spanish origin thereisa natural grace and dignity of manner one only expects to find in womensocially well placed in our own country. When we were all together atmeals, or in the kitchen sipping _mate,_ she was invariably silent,always with that shadow of some concealed anxiety on her face; but whenalone with me, or when only old Santos and Ramona were present, thecloud would be gone, her eyes would lighten up and the rare smile comemore frequently to her lips. Then, at times, she would become almostanimated in conversation, listening with lively interest to all I toldher about the great world of which she was so ignorant, and laughing,too, at her own ignorance of things known to every town-bred child.When these pleasant conversations took place in the kitchen the twoold servants would sit gazing at the face of their mistress, apparentlyabsorbed in admiration. They evidently regarded her as the most perfectbeing that had ever been created; and, though there was a ludicrous sideto their simple idolatry, I ceased to wonder at it when I began to knowher better. They reminded me of two faithful dogs always watching abeloved master's face, and showing in their eyes, glad or pathetic, howthey sympathise with all his moods. As for old Colonel Peralta, he didnothing to make me uneasy; after the first day he never talked to me,scarcely even noticing my presence except to salute me in a ceremoniousmanner when we met at table. He would spend his day between hiseasy-chair in the house and the rustic bench under the trees, wherehe would sit for hours at a time, leaning forward on his stick, hispreternaturally brilliant eyes watching everything seemingly with akeen, intelligent interest. But he would not speak. He was waiting forhis son, thinking his fierce thoughts to himself. Like a bird blown farout over a tumultuous sea and wandering lost, his spirit was rangingover that wild and troubled past--that half a century of fierce passionsand bloody warfare in which he had acted a conspicuous part. And perhapsit was sometimes even more in the future than the past--that gloriousfuture when Calixto, lying far off in some mountain pass, or on someswampy plain with the trailing creepers covering his bones, should comeback victorious from the wars.
My conversations with Demetria were not frequent, and before long theyceased altogether; for Don Hilario, who was not in harmony with us, wasalways there, polite, subdued, watchful, but not a man that one couldtake into his heart. The more I saw of him the less I liked him; and,though I am not prejudiced about snakes, as the reader already knows,believing as I do that ancient tradition has made us very unjust towardsthese interesting children of our universal mother, I can think of noepithet except _snaky_ to describe this man. Wherever I happened to beabout the place he had a way of coming upon me, stealing through theweeds on his belly as it were, then suddenly appearing unawares beforeme; while something in his manner suggested a subtle, cold-blooded,venomous nature. Those swift glances of his, which perpetually came andwent with such bewildering rapidity, reminded me, not of the immovable,stony gaze of the serpent's lidless eyes, but of the flickering littleforked tongue, that flickers, flickers, vanishes and flickers again,and is never for one moment at rest. Who was this man, and what didhe there? Why was he, though manifestly not loved by anyone, absolutemaster of the _estancia_? He never asked me a question about myself, forit was not in his nature to ask questions, but he had evidently formedsome disagreeable suspicions about me that made him look on me as apossible enemy. After I had been a few days in the house he ceased goingout, and wherever I went he was always ready to accompany me, or whenI met Demetria and began conversing with her, there he would be to takepart in our conversation.
At length the piece of paper so long waited for came from the Lomas deRocha, and with that sacred document, testifying that I was a subjectof Her Britannic Majesty, Queen Victoria, all fears and hesitation weredismissed from my mind and I prepared to depart for Montevideo.
The instant Don Hilario heard that I was about to leave the _estancia_his manner toward me changed; he became, in a moment, excessivelyfriendly, pressing me to prolong my visit, also to accept a horse fromhim as a gift, and saying many kind things about the agreeable momentshe had spent in my company. He completely reversed the old saying aboutwelcome the coming, speed the parting, guest; but I knew very well thathe was anxious enough to see the last of me.
After supper on the eve of my departure he saddled his horse and rodeoff to attend a dance or gathering of some kind at a neighbouring_estancia_, for now that he had recovered from his suspicions he wasvery eager to resume the social pleasures my presence had interferedwith.
I went out to smoke a cigar amongst the trees, it being a very lovelyautumnal evening, with the light of an unclouded new moon to temper thedarkness. I was walking up and down in a narrow path amongst the weeds,thinking of my approaching meeting with Paquita, when old Santos cameout to me and mysteriously informed me that Dona Demetria wished to seeme. He led me through the large room where we always had our meals,then through a narrow, dimly lighted passage into another room I had notentered before. Though the rest of the house was now in darkness, theold colonel having already retired to bed, it was very light here, therebeing about half a dozen candles placed about the room. In the centreof the floor, with her old face beaming with delighted admiration,stood Ramona, gazing on another person seated on the sofa. And on thisindividual I also gazed silently for some time; for, though I recognisedDemetria in her, she was so changed that astonishment prevented me fromspeaking. The rusty grub had come forth as a splendid green and goldbutterfly. She had on a grass-green silk dress, made in a fashion Ihad never seen before; extremely high in the waist, puffed out on theshoulders, and with enormous bell-shaped sleeves reaching to theelbows, the whole garment being plentifully trimmed with very finecream-coloured lace. Her long, thick hair, which had hitherto alwaysbeen worn in heavy plaits on her back, was now piled up in great coilson her head and surmounted by a tortoiseshell comb a foot high at least,and about fifteen inches broad at the top, looking like an immense creston her head. In her ears were curious gold filigree pendants reachingto her bare shoulders; she also wore a necklet of half-doubloons linkedtogether in a chain, and heavy gold bracelets on her arms. It wasextremely quaint. Possibly this finery had belonged to her grandmothera hundred years ago; and I daresay that bright green was not the propertint for Demetria's pallid complexion; still, I must confess, at therisk of being set down as a barbarian in matters of taste, that itgave me a shock of pleasure to see her. She saw that I was verymuch surprised, and a blush of confusion overspread her face; then,recovering her usual quiet, self-possessed manner, she invited me tosit on the sofa by her. I took her hand and complimented her on herappearance. She laughed a little shy laugh, then said that, as I wasgoing to leave her next day, she did not wish me to remember her only asa woman in rusty black. I replied that I would always remember her notfor the colour and fashion of her garments, but for her great, unmeritedmisfortunes, her virtuous heart, and for the kindness she had shown tome. My words evidently p
leased her, and while we sat together conversingpleasantly, before us were Ramona and Santos, one standing, the otherseated, both feasting their eyes on their mistress in her brilliantattire. Their delight was quite open and childlike, and gave anadditional zest to the pleasure I felt. Demetria seemed pleased to thinkshe looked well, and was more light-hearted than I had seen her before.That antique finery, which would have been laughable on another woman,somehow or other seemed appropriate to her; possibly because the strangesimplicity and ignorance of the world displayed in her conversation, andthat gentle dignity of manner natural to her, would have prevented herfrom appearing ridiculous in any costume.
At length, after we had partaken of _mate_ served by Ramona, the oldservants retired from the room, not without many longing, lingeringglances at their metamorphosed mistress. Then somehow or other ourconversation began to languish, Demetria becoming constrained in manner,while that anxious shadow I had grown so familiar with came again likea cloud over her face. Thinking that it was time to leave her, I rose togo, and thanked her for the pleasant evening I had spent, and expresseda wish that her future would be brighter than her past had been.
"Thank you, Richard," she returned, her eyes cast down, and allowing herhand to rest in mine. "But must you leave me so soon?--there is so muchI wish to say to you."
"I will gladly remain and hear it," I said, sitting down again by herside.
"My past has been very sad, as you say, Richard, but you do not knowall," and here she put her handkerchief to her eyes. There were, Inoticed, several beautiful rings on her fingers, and the handkerchiefshe held to her eyes was a dainty little embroidered thing with a laceborder; for everything in her make-up was complete and in keeping thatevening. Even the quaint little shoes she wore were embroidered withsilver thread and had large rosettes on them. After removing thehandkerchief from her face, she continued silent and with eyes castdown, looking very pale and troubled.
"Demetria," I said, "tell me how I can serve you? I cannot guess thenature of the trouble you speak of, but if it is one I can help you outof, speak to me without reserve."
"Perhaps you can help me, Richard. It was of this matter I wished tospeak this evening. But now--how can I speak of it?"
"Not to one who is your friend, Demetria? I wish you could think thatthe spirit of your lost brother Calixto was here in me, for I am asready to help you as he would have been; and I know, Demetria, that youwere very dear to him."
Her face flushed, and for a moment her eyes met mine; then, casting themdown again, she replied sadly, "It is impossible! I can say no moreto you now. My heart oppresses me so that my lips refuse to speak.To-morrow, perhaps."
"To-morrow morning I leave you, and there will be no opportunity ofspeaking," I said. "Don Hilario will be here watching you, and, thoughhe is so much in the house, I cannot believe that you trust him."
She started at the name of Don Hilario, and cried a little in silence;then suddenly she rose and gave me her hand to bid good night. "Youshall know everything to-morrow, Richard," she said. "Then you will knowhow much I trust you and how little I trust him. I cannot speak myself,but I can trust Santos, who knows everything, and he shall tell youall."
There was a sad, wistful look in her eyes when we parted that hauntedme for hours afterwards. Coming into the kitchen, I disturbed Ramonaand Santos deep in a whispered consultation. They started up, lookingsomewhat confused; then, when I had lit a cigar and turned to go out,they got up and went back to their mistress.
While I smoked I pondered over the strange evening I had passed,wondering very much what Demetria's secret trouble could be. "Themystery of the green butterfly," I called it; but it was really all toosad even for a mental joke, though a little timely laughter is often thebest weapon to meet trouble with, sometimes having an effect like thatof a gay sunshade suddenly opened in the face of an angry bull. Unableto solve the riddle, I retired to my room to sleep my last sleep underPeralta's dreary roof.