"The señora is in bed."
"Oh, I might have known it! How could the poor soul have had strength to resist this blow!"
The faces of the other servants whom they met on the way had the same expression of silent solemnity, and this greatly increased his agitation. Maria followed him. When they reached Doña Gertrudis's room, they saw that there were a number of people in it who, on catching sight of them, came toward them with a warning gesture.
"What! Is she so ill?" exclaimed the unhappy Don Mariano, in a hoarse, trembling voice.
"She is not very ill," said an officious lady: "but it is better that you should not enter so suddenly, for a powerful excitement might be bad for her. She has had a number of attacks since last night, and finds herself rather weak.... Let me prepare her."
The lady, in fact, went to tell Doña Gertrudis that her daughter was at liberty, and would soon be back to Nieva.
"My daughter is here!" cried the invalid, with that wonderful instinct of mothers and hysterical women.... Yes, she is here!... I know she is!... I see her.... Come, my daughter, come!"
And at the same time she made a desperate effort to sit up in bed. Maria entered her bedchamber, and kneeling beside the bed respectfully kissed the hands which her mother extended to her.
"Forgive me, mamma! forgive me for the anxiety which I caused you.... You were made ill because of me, but the Lord will soon make you well...."
"No, my daughter; you have done nothing that needs my forgiveness; you have done what God commanded.... It made me ill ... that is true ... but it is because I have not virtue enough, as you have, to suffer the trials God imposes upon us.... You are a saint.... I shall be well.... Don't worry about me.... What frightens me now is, that I did not die when I saw you marching off that way, among soldiers.... My poor daughter.... Come, give me a kiss!"