"Señor, oh, my father," said Augustine, pale as death, "I have never thought of failing in my duty."
"Is that your father?" said Mariquilla. "Augustine, tell him that you love me, and perhaps he will have compassion on me."
"This girl is mad," said Don José. "Unhappy child, your trouble touches my heart. I charge myself with protecting you in your orphanhood. Yes, I will protect you as long as you reform your habits. Poor little one, you have a good heart, an excellent heart. But,—yes—I have heard, a little inclined to be giddy. It is a pity that by being badly brought up a good soul should be lost. But you will be good? I think you will!"
"Augustine, how can you permit me to be insulted?" said Mariquilla, with overwhelming grief.
"It is not insult," said the father, "it is good counsel. How could I insult my benefactress? I believe that if you behave yourself well, we shall have a great affection for you. Remain under my protection, poor orphan. Why do you talk so to my son? It is nothing, nothing; have better sense; and enough for now of all this agitation. The lad perhaps knows you. Yes, I have been told that during the siege you have not left the company of the soldiers. Now you must reform. I charge myself—I cannot forget the kindness I have received. And besides I know that you are good at heart. That is not a deceitful face. You have a heavenly form. But it is necessary to renounce worldly enjoyments, refrain from vice—then—"
"No!" cried Augustine, suddenly, with so lively an outburst of anger that all of us trembled at seeing him and hearing him. "No! I will not consent that any one, not even my father, should insult her before me. I love her! And if I have concealed it before, I tell it now, without fear or shame, for all the world to know! Sir, you do not know what you are saying, nor how you miss the truth! You have been deceived. You may kill me, if I fail in respect, but do not defame her before me; because if I should hear again what I have heard, not even the fact that you are my own father could restrain me!"
Montoria, not expecting this, looked about in amazement at his friends.
"Good, Augustine!" cried Mariquilla. "Do not pay any attention to these people. This man is not your father. Do what your heart tells you to do. Go away, señors! Go away!"
"You are mistaken, Mariquilla," replied the young man; "I have not intended to free the prisoner, nor shall I do so; but at the same time I tell you that it will not be I who will take his life. There are officers in my battalion who will carry out the order. I am no longer a soldier. Although we are in the face of the enemy, I break my sword, and hasten to the Captain-General that he may decide my fate."
As he said this, he drew his sword, and, doubling the blade across his knee, he broke it, and after throwing the two pieces into the middle of our circle, he went without another word.