We fled to the mountains, and sought a refuge amongst the lawless bandits of Olbera, a place proverbial for sheltering the outcasts of society. There we remained for several months, subsisting on the few onzas that remained in my purse from the sale of my patrimony, and by disposing of various trinkets that Alitéa had brought away with her. But our funds were soon exhausted, and it became necessary to take some steps to procure the means of maintenance.
On matters reaching this stage, it had originally been my intention to abandon Don Benito’s daughter to her fate, and seek my fortune in America; for, as I have already said, Alitéa had awakened no feeling of love within my breast, and the idea of making her my wife, though entertained previous to my rupture with her father, had never once entered my thoughts on taking her from the paternal roof. Revenge alone had instigated me to an act, by which I purposed bringing everlasting disgrace on Don Benito, and his vaunted high connexions.
But, besides that Alitéa possessed great personal attractions, and had given proof of loving me with the most boundless affection, which naturally disposed my feelings to warm towards her, she, even now, on discovering the deceit I had practised; that I was a libertine; a beggar; nay, even when I told her she was the mere instrument of my revenge, did not reproach me with one bitter word.—“Blas, Blas, I trust to your honour,” was the only appeal made to her seducer’s feelings.
Was it in human nature to spurn so confiding, so affectionate a being? For my punishment (so a confessor would, probably, have told me) it was ordained, that the cold admiration with which I first regarded Alitéa should gradually warm into the most fervent, the most ardent love, to make me feel more poignantly the wrong I had done, the misery I had brought on this admirable being!
Bitterly as I upbraided fate, and curst the author of my misfortunes, more bitter still were my self-reproaches at having exposed the object of my adoration to the hardships and privations we were doomed to suffer; for we were now obliged to labour from daylight to dark to earn a miserable pittance, barely sufficient to procure the necessaries of life, and to be satisfied with the humblest lodging, the coarsest garments, and the poorest food.
At length, urged by my love for Alitéa, and yet more by the prospect of a family, I determined on opening a communication with Don Benito, which I did by proposing to marry his daughter, and thus save the blighted honour of her family. This proposal was, of course, coupled with a stipulation—for it was now my turn to dictate terms—that a handsome settlement should be made upon us.
The medium I selected for carrying on this delicate negociation was one of the villagers, a smuggler, with whom I had become intimate, and whose avocation afforded the opportunity of communicating with Don Benito, without furnishing a clue, by which our place of concealment could be discovered. On the fidelity of my friend—having exacted a promise of the most inviolable secrecy—I thought the fullest reliance might be placed; but “honour and profit will not both keep in one sack,” as the saying is. The scoundrel had not enough virtue to resist a bribe of a few dollars, and he acquainted Don Benito with every thing concerning us.
This abominable piece of treachery, whilst it served to increase the hatred I bore mankind, had a considerable influence in stamping my future character, for I became habitually wary and distrustful. But, to resume my narrative, on returning one evening from my daily work, I found Don Benito at my Alitéa’s bed-side, and that she had prematurely given birth to a male child—an illegitimate child.
I pass over the scene of mutual recrimination that ensued. What might have happened, but for the precarious state in which Alitéa was lying, I know not. Enraged beyond measure at the circumstance, which, for the moment, had caused the failure of his project to recover his daughter, Don Benito took his departure, calling down upon me every possible malediction, and declaring to the village authorities his firm resolve to return without loss of time, armed with power to lodge me in a gaol, and place his daughter in a convent; but I baulked his purpose, by making Alitéa my wife that very night. Her father had dropped his purse upon the floor, and I scrupled not to employ its contents in so legitimate a purpose.
I soon found an obsequious priest, ready to do my bidding. They are not over-scrupulous in religious matters at Olbera, neither are the laws very rigidly enforced there[178]; so that on my father-in-law’s return, a few days after, with the justicia, I set him at defiance.