At the Point of the Sword | Page 3

looked at me wonderingly.
"The girl?" he repeated slowly; "what girl?"
"Rosa Montilla," I answered.
We spoke in English; but at the mention of Rosa's name the mountaineer scowled savagely, and leaned forward as if to take part in the conversation.
"The man has come from the mountains with a message for your mother," said José; "I met him at the entrance to the park. But if Rosa Montilla is here, the news is known already."
His face was very pale, and he spoke haltingly, as if his words were burdensome, and there was a look in his eyes which I had never seen before.
I motioned to Antonio, and the two passed through. What message did they bring? What news could link dainty little Rosa with this wild outlaw of the hills?
José jumped to the ground and walked with me, laying a hand on my shoulder. Until then I had no thought of the truth, but the touch of his fingers sent a shiver of fear through me, and I looked at his face in alarm.
"What is it, José?" I asked; "what has happened? Why did Rosa steal here alone and sob in my mother's arms as if her heart would break?"
"The little maid has heard bad news," he answered quietly, "though how I do not know."
"And as she had no mother, she came to mine for comfort," I said. "It was a happy thought: mother will make her forget her trouble."
José stopped, and looked searchingly in my face.
"Poor boy!" he said. "You have no idea of the truth, and how can I tell you? The little maid did not weep for her own sorrow, but for yours and your mother's."
At that I understood without further words, though I was to learn more soon. The reason of it I guessed, though not the matter; but I knew that somewhere my dear father lay dead--killed by order of the Spanish viceroy.
José saw from my face that I knew, and there was sympathy in the very touch of his hand.
"It is true," he whispered. "The Spaniards trapped him in the mountains, whither he had gone to meet the Indians. They wished to rise against the government; but he knew it was madness just now, and thought to keep them quiet till his own plans were ready."
"And the Spaniards slew him?"
"Yes," replied José simply. "Here," pointing to the mountaineer, "is our witness."
"But how did Rosa hear of it? she was not in the mountains. Ah, I forgot! Her father stands high in the viceroy's favour. And so my father is dead!"
The thought unnerved me, and I could have cried aloud in my sorrow.
"Hold up your head, boy!" exclaimed the harsh voice of the mountaineer. "Tears are for women and girls. Years ago my father's head was cut off, but I did not cry. I took my gun and went to the mountains," and he finished with a bitter laugh.
"But my mother!" I said. "The news will break her heart."
"The world will not know it," he answered, and he spoke truly.
"I am glad the little maid has told her," remarked José, giving his horse and that of the stranger to a serving-man. "Jack, do you go in and prepare her for our coming."
A single glance showed that Rosa had indeed told her story. She sat on a lounge, looking very miserable. My mother rose and came toward me. Taking my hands, she clasped them in her own. She was a very beautiful woman, famous for her beauty even among the ladies of Lima. She was tall and slightly built, with black hair and glorious dark eyes that shone like stars. I have heard that at one time she was called the "Lady of the Stars," and I am not surprised. They shone now, but all gentleness had gone from them, and was replaced by a hard, fierce glitter which half frightened me. Her cheeks were white, and her lips bloodless; but as far as could be seen, she had not shed a tear.
Still holding my hands, and looking into my face, she said, "You have heard the news, Juan? You know that your father lies dead on the mountains, slain while carrying a message of peace to the fierce men who live there?"
I bowed my head, but could utter no sound save the anguished cry of "Mother, mother!"
"Hush!" she exclaimed; "it is no time for tears now. I shall weep later in my own room, but not before the world, Juan. Our grief is our own, my son, not the country's. And there is little Rosa, brave little Rosa, who came to bring me the news; she must go back. Let Miguel bring round the carriage, and see that half a dozen of the men ride in attendance. Don Felipe's daughter must have an escort befitting her father's rank."
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