Chapter III: The Opening of the Month of May

It was the first week in May, the family of Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon had returned to the city, Dolores had come to spend the day with her Aunt Josefina, and was sitting with her and Magdalen Miranda in the ante-sala. The door opened, and in came Marcelino and Don Carlos Evaña.

Marcelino went at once to Magdalen and took her hand.

"I have come to bring you good news," he said, "Don Alfonso will be set at liberty to-day. Don Fausto has gone with the order to the Cabildo."

"Thanks, thanks," said Magdalen. "Poor papa! at last!"

"Do not thank me, thank Lola."

"I knew papa could, if he would try," said Dolores. "The Viceroy will do anything that papa asks him. I made him promise me last night; you know I told you I would not rest until I had made him promise."

She could say no more, for Magdalen threw her arms round her neck, kissing her, and the two girls wept together, speaking to each other with many endearing words, till, becoming more composed, they sat hand in hand beside each other, waiting; Magdalen listening with all her ears for the sound of a footstep in the patio.

Half an hour they waited; then was heard the voice of Don Fausto. Magdalen sprang from her chair, and ran out into the patio. An old, old man, bowed with weakness, tottered towards her, leaning on the arm of Don Fausto, so old, so bent, Magdalen could hardly believe her eyes. With a cry she ran up to him, and threw her arms round him, it was her father.

"Chica!" said Don Alfonso, straightening himself a little, but he said no more, suffering himself to be led into the house and seated on a chair, where he looked round him with a bewildered gaze, apparently deaf to the welcome of Doña Josefina and to the congratulations of the others.

Magdalen drew a stool to his feet and seated herself upon it, leaning upon his knees.

"Papa, won't you speak to me?" she said. "You are free now, we will go back to the quinta and you will soon be quite strong again."

Don Alfonso laid his hand upon her head and smiled at her, then looking up with an anxious gaze at Don Fausto he said:

"And my coffer, where is it? Did not you tell me they would give me everything back?"

"Yes, I have an order to Major Asneiros that he return to you everything he took from the house on the night of your arrest."

"Give me the order," said Marcelino, "I will go and get them at once."

Don Fausto drew a folded paper from his pocket and gave it to Marcelino, who immediately left the house. During his absence Don Alfonso still sat in his chair with a vacant stare in his eyes, answering nothing to the questions that were addressed to him, and resisting every effort of Doña Josefina, who pressed him to eat something. Dolores placed a basin of broth in his hands; mechanically he took the spoon and stirred it, but put it away from him untasted.

Marcelino was not long absent. When his footstep was heard in the patio Don Alfonso pushed his daughter from him, and rising to his feet walked to the room door to meet him, with a firmer step than seemed possible from his former gait. Marcelino had with him two peons, one of whom carried a large package of books and papers, the other bore on his shoulder a small black coffer, bound with brass bands and with a brass lock. To one of the handles of this coffer hung a bunch of keys tied with a string.

"Bring it in, bring it in," said Don Alfonso to the peon who carried the coffer.

"Jesus! but it is heavy," said the man.

Then as he set it down roughly on the floor there came from it a jingling sound as of pieces of metal striking against one another. At this sound Don Alfonso's eyes sparkled, and he rubbed his hands together; then, stooping, he took hold of the coffer by one of the handles and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy for his wasted strength.

"Yes, it is heavy, it is heavy," he said, chuckling strangely to himself and again rubbing his hands together.

After this he took up the basin of broth which he had refused, and as he supped it he commenced talking, but when they questioned him of the lonely days he had spent in prison he shuddered and would answer nothing.

In the afternoon, Don Fausto took Don Alfonso and Magdalen out again to the quinta in his carriage, Don Alfonso insisting upon having the black coffer placed inside and sitting with his feet upon it. He seemed to have recovered strength surprisingly since the morning. Magdalen was in great spirits at finding everything at the quinta in good order, and that many needful repairs had been made during their absence, but she did not then know that this was owing to Marcelino Ponce de Leon and Don Carlos Evaña, one or other of whom had visited the place every day during the imprisonment of Don Alfonso.

Don Fausto left them at sundown, feeling no anxiety for Don Alfonso, whose prostration in the morning he attributed solely to the effects of solitary confinement upon one who was accustomed to live much in the open air.

Soon after dark Magdalen who was setting out her tea-things, was startled by a shrill cry which came from her father's room. Running in she could see nothing, there being no light in the room, but she could hear a low moaning. She called aloud for her father, but there was no answer. Attracted by her cries, the single maid-servant who lived in the house with them came running with a lighted candle in her hand, to know what was the cause of the alarm, then Magdalen saw her father stretched, apparently lifeless, on the floor. Beside him stood the black coffer, open and with the lid thrown back; on the floor lay a small hand-lamp, broken; strewn about lay a number of silver coins, and under her father's hand there lay something which had been wrapped in paper, but from which the paper was partly torn away.

The two had great difficulty in raising Don Alfonso and laying him upon his bed, and for long all their efforts to restore consciousness were in vain. When at last he opened his eyes he gazed vacantly round him, answering nothing to Magdalen's eager questions, till he saw the black coffer which they had left untouched. Then he started up, and struggling from their hands staggered to it, throwing himself upon his knees before it, and groping with his hands inside of it. He pulled out handfuls of silver coins, throwing them on the floor, and several packages wrapped in paper, like the one Magdalen had noticed lying on the floor when she had discovered her father's state. From each of these packages he tore off the wrapper as he took it out and threw it from him. Each package as it fell upon the floor gave a dull, heavy sound, as though it were a block of lead. As he threw from him the last package, he started to his feet, clutching his hair with both hands, and uttering a wild cry like that which had brought Magdalen to him.

Then he burst out with foul curses and imprecations, grinding his teeth, and stamping his feet in his rage, while Magdalen and the maid both looked upon him in terror, thinking he had gone mad. When at last his rage subsided, he clasped his hands together and bent over the coffer once more.

"Not one! not one have they left me!" he exclaimed. "Fool that I was, ever to let a Spaniard inside my house!"

With a hollow groan he fell forward over the coffer, striking his head upon the floor. Again Magdalen and her maid lifted him up and laid him upon his bed, where for hours he lay insensible, breathing heavily, and when at last he began to speak it was in incoherent words, mingled with curses, which made Magdalen shudder as she listened.

So the weary night wore through, and with the day came more efficient help, but days and days passed ere Don Alfonso knew anything of what went on about him, or recognised his daughter. These days were a fearful trial to Magdalen, yet there was one who came to see her every day, whose loving words strengthened her and encouraged her in her arduous duty. Not a day passed that Marcelino Ponce de Leon did not sit with her for at least an hour, by the bedside of her unconscious father, telling her of all that was happening in those days, big with the destiny of a young nation, seeking counsel and solace from her in the sore struggle which was going on within himself. Years before he had thought of the day when he must decide between his father and his country, he had thought of it with trembling and dismay, and pondered long and anxiously of how he might avert it. Now the day was come, his resolution was fixed, yet it was none the less painful to him to array himself in direct opposition to his father, that his resolve was the result of mature deliberation.

Magdalen fully sympathised with him in his anxious wish, if it were yet possible, so to arrange matters that Don Roderigo might yield a tardy assent to a new order of affairs, and forget that he was a Spaniard for the sake of his children, who were Americans. But as she listened to the incoherent words and occasional curses which fell from the lips of her own suffering father, her heart refused to let her counsel Marcelino to give up one iota of what he considered his rights as a free-born citizen of Buenos Aires, or to shrink from any duty, however painful, which the assertion of those rights for himself and others might entail upon him.

And through all those days between those two there passed no word of love, yet were their hearts open to one another, the most simple words that all the world might hear, yet bore from one heart to the other a message of love, the most common act of politeness became a caress.

* * * * *

A week after the return of Don Alfonso to the Miserere, Don Baltazar de Cisneros, the Viceroy, gave audience in one of his private apartments, to two in whom he placed great confidence, Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon and Don Ciriaco Asneiros.

"I have brought the Señor Asneiros that he himself give you an account of this affair," said Don Roderigo.

"You opened the coffer yourself?" said the Viceroy to the major. "What was there in it?"

"Some few papers written in English which appeared to be bonds or titles, about $400 in silver coins, and some heavy packets wrapped in paper, what they were I did not look, I was searching for documents," replied Asneiros.

"And did no one but yourself examine the coffer?"

"No one. When I saw that there was nothing there of what I expected to find, I relocked it, and kept the keys in my own possession, till I received an order, signed by your Excellency, to deliver it and the other articles I had brought from the Miserere."

"But with false keys any one might have opened the coffer in your absence?"

In reply to this Asneiros merely shrugged his shoulders:

"And you did not open any of those heavy packages of which you speak?" said Don Roderigo.

"I pricked them with my knife and found them all solid metal, but I did not open one of them. They say now that they are ingots of lead, and that the medico expected to find them of gold and has gone out of his mind. There are men who will believe anything, and there are others who will say and do anything to throw discredit upon a loyal Spaniard."

"It is a most unfortunate affair," said Don Roderigo. "The people are in such an evil frame of mind at present that they lay upon us the blame for any unfortunate accident that may befall."

"It were easy to cure them," said Asneiros.

"How?" asked the Viceroy.

"Shoot half a dozen men that I can point out to you."

"And bring on a revolution," said Don Roderigo.

"When men talk treason in their houses without hindrance, a revolution is not far off," said Asneiros. "Your Excellency thinks the troops will not support you, and whilst they are officered as they are at present they will not, but shut the troops in their barracks, arrest all the Creole officers, and commission me to raise a regiment for you, which I can do in two days, and I assure you these citizens will think twice before they will fight."

The Viceroy looked from one to the other irresolute. Asneiros was not the first Spaniard who had warned him of danger, and had counselled extreme measures of repression ere it was too late.

"There is at least one regiment upon which I can rely," said he.

"The Tijo," said Asneiros; "it is little better than a skeleton regiment, but it would be easy to bring it up to the full complement, and there is only one regiment from which there is any danger, the Patricios. In the other regiments all you have to do is to change the officers, and they will serve you as well as the Tijo. There are scores of Spaniards unemployed, while these Creoles strut about the streets in uniform as if the city were theirs."

"Any extreme measure will force them into revolt and then the city will be theirs," said Don Roderigo. "Your Excellency would do well to shut your ears to such counsel, our only chance lies in temporising. The misfortunes of our country have excited the most extravagant hopes in these insolent Creoles; as you know it has been actually proposed among them to demand a Junta Gubernativa."

"That was the doing of your friend Don Juan Martin Puyrredon," said the Viceroy. "It was false clemency on my part to listen to your request and permit his return."

"I think not," said Don Roderigo; "he was not alone in proposing this Junta, and it is better that if any such revolutionary measure be forced upon us, we should have men such as he to treat with, and not men whose heads are full of extravagant French ideas. There are men in the city who look upon a Junta as only the first step to the establishment of a republic."

"The people generally will not support them," said the Viceroy.

"At present they will not; but if we irritate them by measures of repression they will commit any extravagance."

"But we must repress with severity any such idea as the establishment of a Junta."

"Our best plan would be to forestall any popular demand by appointing a Junta ourselves."

"They will want a Junta of Creoles."

"They will; therefore it would be wise to prevent all chance of their demanding a Junta by appointing one ourselves. If we set up a Junta half Spaniards and half Creoles, and appoint you President, all the moderate men among the Creoles will side with us."

"Well, I will take the matter into consideration," replied the Viceroy; "but I am not disposed even to yield so far as to appoint a mixed Junta, until no other course is left to me."

"Your Excellency does not fully appreciate the danger."

"I see no necessity for any immediate action, but you will do me the favour to advise me if you see symptoms of any increase in the popular excitement."

"When all remedial measures will be too late," replied Don Roderigo; then seeing the Viceroy indisposed to continue the colloquy, he took up his hat, and with a low bow retired.

Don Ciriaco Asneiros lingered till he had seen Don Roderigo pass through the first ante-room, then stepping up to the Viceroy he said to him in a low voice:

"Do not alarm yourself, your Excellency, at the warnings of this worthy gentleman. We all know him; though loyal, he is so intimately connected with Creole families that at times he forgets that he is a Spaniard. What want we with Creoles in a Junta, or a Junta at all? What we want are troops, troops, good Spanish soldiers, upon whom we can depend, and I assure you we will soon bring these Creoles to reason. When I told you that I could raise you a regiment in two days I did not speak without thinking, we Spaniards are tired of the insolence of these Creoles."

"You were not at that meeting at the house of the Señor Puyrredon?" said the Viceroy.

"These Creoles know me too well to ask me to talk treason with them."

"If they had resolved upon anything, we should know it?"

"According to what I have heard, the resolution is postponed until there come more certain news from Spain."

"Think you that this Puyrredon is a dangerous man?"

"Without doubt; but there are more dangerous. Whilst the Señor Evaña lives in Buenos Aires your Excellency is always in danger of some conspiracy."

"Evaña! But against him you have been unable to bring me any proof."

"Give me authority to arrest him and search his house."

"For the present there is no danger, this excitement will calm down, when something positive occurs, there will be time enough for severe measures." So saying the Viceroy bowed and dismissed the major, who left him at once and walked away to his own house in deep thought.

In an inner room of this house Don Santiago Liniers, ex-Viceroy of Buenos Aires and Marshal of the armies of Spain, walked restlessly up and down. Don Baltazar de Cisneros had not dared to send him under arrest to Spain in accordance with his instructions, but had exiled him to the learned city of Cordova, where he considered that his popularity would cease to be dangerous. Liniers, hearing of the excitement in Buenos Aires, had returned in secret, proposing to offer his services to the Viceroy for the preservation of the authority of Spain. Asneiros had been commissioned by him to speak to Cisneros telling him of his arrival, if he found him disposed to adopt stringent measures of repression, but not otherwise.

As Asneiros entered the room Liniers paused in his walk, waiting for him to speak.

"Don Baltazar will do nothing," said Asneiros. "Let us not think any more of him, he is lost. Before many days we shall have a Junta of Porteños."

"And this Evaña, can you do nothing against him?"

"Nothing. He has always the protection of your friend Don Roderigo. But have no fear, he will fall with the rest."

"When? A Junta is a revolution, and he will be one of the chiefs. He is a man of terrible energy and respects nothing."

"Without doubt he is our most dangerous enemy."

"Then you feel sure that we shall have a Junta?"

"Or something worse, and without troops what can we do? Don Baltazar gives not the slightest attention to my offer."

"Then my journey here will result in nothing."

"Return to Cordova, it is the best thing you can do, but prepare at once for a second reconquest of this Buenos Aires. Against a Junta of Porteños it will be a very easy matter to stir up the Provinces."

"To Cordova then this night," said Liniers. "Adios! Buenos Aires; twice have I saved you from foreigners, yet once more will I come to save you from your own people."