Wood Rangers: The Trappers of Sonora

“Lose no time then in making it a reality,” replied Don Estevan.

“But is the time so pressing?” inquired the Senator, suddenly pausing in his steps.

“Why this question? Is it possible to be too quick in obtaining happiness?”

The Senator appeared thoughtful, and for a moment presented an aspect of embarrassment, in strange contrast to his previous looks. He replied after a pause —

“The fact is, Don Estevan, I am willing to marry an heiress whose wealth, as is usually the case, would compensate for her ugliness. In this case it is the very beauty of the lady that confuses me.”

“Perhaps she does not please you!”

“On the contrary, so much happiness awes me. It appears to me, for a reason which I cannot divine, that some sad disappointment lurks under the seductive prospect.”

“Ah! just as I expected,” answered Don Estevan; “it is the human heart. I knew you would make some objection of this kind, but I thought you were more a man of the world than to trouble yourself about the past with such a splendid fortune before you. Ah! my poor Despilfarro,” added the Spaniard, with a laugh, “I thought you were more advanced.”

“But why, Don Estevan?” inquired the Senator, intending to give a proof of his high diplomatic capacity, – “why is it, entre nous, that you desire to lavish this treasure of beauty – to say nothing of her grand wealth – upon another, while you yourself – ”

“While I myself might marry her,” interrupted the Spaniard. “Is that what you mean to say? Suppose I have no wish to get married. I had that desire long ago, like the rest of the world. My history has been like a great many others; that is, my sweetheart married another. It is true I adopted the means to re – to console myself, and quickly too,” added Arechiza, with a dark scowl. “But who do you think I am, Don Vicente Tragaduros?”

“Who are you! why; Don Estevan de Arechiza, of course!”

“That does honour to your penetration,” said the Spaniard, with a disdainful smile. “Well, then, since I have already demanded the hand of Doña Rosarita for the illustrious senator Tragaduros y Despilfarro, of course I cannot now take his place.”

“But why, señor, did you not make the demand on your own account?”

“Why, because, my dear friend, were this young lady three times as beautiful, and three times as rich as she is, she would neither be beautiful enough nor rich enough for me!”

Despilfarro started with astonishment.

“Eh! and who are you then, señor, may I ask in my turn?”

“Only, as you have said, Don Estevan Arechiza,” coolly replied the Spaniard.

The Senator made three or four turns across the room before he could collect his thoughts; but in obedience to the distrust that had suddenly sprung up within him, he resumed:

“There is something in all this I cannot explain, and when I can’t explain a thing I can’t understand it.”

“Good logic,” exclaimed Don Estevan, in a tone of raillery, “but am I really mistaken about you, my dear Senator? I did you the honour to believe you above certain prejudices; and even if there was anything in the past life of the beautiful Rosarita – for instance, any prejudice to be trampled under foot – is a million of dowry, besides three millions of expectation, nothing in your eyes?”

Don Estevan put this question for the purpose of sounding the morality of the man, or rather to try the strength of a tool, which he meant to make use of.

Despilfarro returned no reply.

“Now, then, I await your answer,” said Don Estevan, after a pause, appearing to take pleasure in the Senator’s embarrassment.

“Upon my word, Don Estevan,” replied Despilfarro, “you are cruel to mystify one in this manner. I – I – Carramba! it is very embarrassing.”

Don Estevan interrupted him. This hesitation on the part of Despilfarro told the Spaniard what he wished to know. An ironical smile played upon his lips, and laying aside his pleasantry, he resumed in a serious tone:

“Listen to me, Tragaduros! It would be unworthy of a gentleman to continue longer this badinage where a lady’s reputation is concerned. I can assure you, then, that the past life of the Doña Rosarita is without a stain.”

The Senator breathed freely.

“And now,” continued Don Estevan, “it is necessary that you give me your full confidence, and I will set you an example by giving mine with a perfect frankness: the success of the noble cause I have embraced depends upon it. First, then, hear who I am. Arechiza is only a borrowed appellation. As to my real name – which you shall soon know – I made oath in my youth, that no woman, however rich or beautiful, should share it with me; therefore, now that my hair is grey do you think that I should be likely to break the oath I have so long kept? Although a wife, such as I propose for you, may ofttimes be a stepping-stone to ambition, she is oftener an obstacle.”

As he said this, Don Estevan rose, and in his turn paced the floor with an agitated air. Some traces of distrust were still perceptible upon the countenance of the Senator – they were noticed by him.

“You wish for a more precise explanation?” said he; “you shall have it.”

The Spaniard approached the window and closed the shutters – as if fearful that their conversation might be heard outside. He then sat down again, and requested the Senator to be seated near him.

Tragaduros watched him with a lively curiosity, at the same time lowering his eyes whenever they met the fiery glances of the Spaniard.

The latter appeared suddenly to become transformed, as if looking grander and nobler.

“Now, Señor Senator!” began he, “I am going to make known to you some secrets sufficient to turn your head.”

The Senator trembled.

“When the tempter carried the Son of Man to the top of a mountain, and promised him all the kingdoms of the earth if he would fall down and worship him, he scarce offered him more than I am offering to the Senator of Arispe. As the tempter, then, I lay at your feet honours, power, and riches, if you will subscribe to my conditions.”

The solemnity of this exordium, and the imposing manner of Don Estevan, following so closely upon the jocular mien he had hitherto exhibited, made a painful impression upon the mind of the Senator. There was a short moment in which he regretted being so advanced in his opinions, and during this time the great dowry of Rosarita and her rosy lips had but slight prestige for him.

“It is now twenty years,” continued the Spaniard, “since I took up my real vocation in the world. Previous to that time, I believed myself made for domestic life, and indulged in those absurd dreams of love natural to young hearts. An illusion soon destroyed – an evil hour – an accident showed me the deception; and I found out that I was made for ambition – nothing more. I have therefore sought for glory and honour to satisfy my desires, and I have won them. I have conquered the right to stand uncovered in the presence of the king of Spain. Chevalier of the Order of Saint James of the Sword, I have taken part in the royal ceremonies of the white cloak and red sword; and I may say that for me fame has been no idle illusion. Chevalier also of Carlos the Third, I have shared with the royal princes the title of the Grand Cross. I have won successively the Order of Saint Ferdinand, of Saint Hermengildo, and the Golden Fleece of Calatrava. These honours, although coveted by all, were for me but sterile consolations.”

This enumeration, made without the slightest show of ostentation, caused the Senator to regard the speaker with an air of respectful astonishment. Don Estevan continued:

“Wealth followed close upon these honours. Rich appanages, added to the fortune I derived from my ancestors, soon left far behind me, the time when, as a simple cadet of my family, I was worth nothing but my sword. Now I was rich, opulent, and – will I tell you? – I was still far from being content. My efforts continued; and I was made Comte de Villamares, and afterwards Duke de Armada – ”

“Oh! Señor Duke,” interrupted Despilfarro, in a humble voice, “permit me – but – I – ”

“I have not yet finished,” calmly continued the Spaniard; “when you have heard all, you will no longer doubt my words. Notwithstanding your mistrust, señor, I am still nothing more than the secret agent of a prince, and I desire to remain in your eyes, as ever, the simple gentleman Don Estevan de Arechiza – nothing more. It is necessary, however, that this distrust of me should not manifest itself again; for since you are presently to know the object which I am pursuing, you will be privy to my most secret thoughts.”

The Senator continued to listen in the most respectful silence.

“As I have said, then, I followed ambition for twenty years for its own sake; or to speak more truly, I passed twenty years of my life to destroy a painful souvenir, at the same time that I was pursuing the path to fame. I fancied that in the middle of a turbulent life, this souvenir would in time be effaced from my memory. The favourite of a prince, the expectant heir to one of the first thrones in Christendom – elevated to the highest places of power – wealth prodigally lavished upon me – I hoped to be able to forget that terrible souvenir. Vain hope!” added the speaker in a solemn voice: “Alas! Nothing can banish remorse. The bloody sword of Saint James was no idle symbol in my hands; for remorse lends to ambition a fearful activity – like a voice continually crying, ‘On – on forever!’”

Don Estevan paused, and for a time remained silent, during which the Senator regarded him with a timid look, at the same time admiring the imposing and solemn dignity of his countenance.

“But where to go on?” continued the speaker; “what object to follow next? Into what new course might I precipitate this torrent of ambition that was boiling within me? At length a new incident offered itself, and gave me a fresh opportunity for action – an opportunity to strive and combat – for in my case, to struggle and fight is to forget.

“In all likelihood you have scarce heard of our political troubles, Don Vicente? I am aware that all the kingdoms of Europe might be shaken to their bases, without your knowing anything of the matter, in this out of the way corner of the world. Well, then, I shall make known to you what occurred.

“It is now about two years since the king of Spain – by a total violation of the Salic law, hitherto observed by all his ancestors – violently cut off the succession to the throne in the person of his brother Don Carlos; and by this act kindled the fires of civil war throughout the kingdom. The Infanta Isabella was declared heiress to the crown, to the exclusion of her uncle, the legal heir. This prince it was of whom I spoke, and who is my august patron and protector. I did everything in my power to assuage the mortal grief that this unexpected event naturally caused to the man, whom I above all others have reason to esteem.

“Amidst the consolations which I offered him, and the plans which I proposed, one design of a gigantic nature offered itself to my imagination. True, it presented the prospect of countless dangers, and obstacles almost insurmountable; but for this very reason I adopted it.

“My dream, then, is to conquer for my master a kingdom as vast as the one of which he has been wrongfully deprived; to restore to him one of the brightest jewels of that Transatlantic crown, which his ancestors once so gloriously wore. I dream of conquering a kingdom – and that kingdom once conquered, I, a simple gentleman, intend to present it to the true heir of the Spanish monarchy – Don Carlos de Bourbon!