CHAPTER XVII.
The 20th of March—a day never to be forgot!
I have seen Mr. Rivers. It is the first time since that night—nine months ago. I have seen him and spoken with him in the presence of Melinza, Doña Orosia, and the Governor.
Whatever may befall us now, nothing can take away the memory of this last hour. If ever we leave these walls together and taste freedom again, it will have been dearly bought. A maid's truth tarnished, and the brave heart of a most loyal gentleman robbed of its faith! Dear God, what a price to pay!
'Twas noon when Doña Orosia came herself to fetch me.
"There is some deviltry afoot," she said. "I cannot fathom it as yet; but, as you hope for freedom for yourself and your Englishman, don't fail to play your part to the end. Come quickly! Melinza demands to see you, and the Governor permits it. Don't blame me, child—I can do nothing to prevent it. But, I warn you, act the part, whatever it may cost you."
I followed her, as in a dream, along the corridor, into the room where the old Governor sat in his arm-chair beside a carved table, whereon were a decanter of wine, glasses half drained, and a litter of playing-cards. He drummed upon the table with his withered fingers, and looked uneasily, first at his wife's flushed face as she entered the door, and then at the determined countenance of Melinza, who was standing before the heavy arras which divided that room from another in the rear.
"Doña Margarita," said the Governor, clearing his throat nervously, "is it so that you are detained within my house against your will?"
"Your Excellency," I began, and was thankful I could speak truth, "I, and all the other English, have been held here in San Augustin for many a long month against our will."