“It is evident that we cannot do anything without God’s assistance, but I do not consider it vanity on my part to assure you that I shall fulfill the duties I assume. If you knew, Father, how that word duty sounds to me! I assure you with all the truthfulness of my soul, if I imagined that I should fail in my duty toward him, as time goes on, I would a thousand times rather die first. No; neither my husband, nor my father, nor God, shall ever have any cause of complaint against me. In that way I shall live—or shall die happy. If it were to be otherwise, I would kill myself! I am marrying with my eyes open. Circumstances have placed me in this peculiar position—well, then, with my eyes open, I will be good. I don’t want to make excuses beforehand; I will be good, even if the earth should sink!”
Let the reader smile; but these words made me wild with enthusiasm; so much so that I even forgot my dangerous situation. I arose, as though to applaud her, reaching out my hands toward my angel of an aunt, when, by an involuntary movement, I fell heavily upon the branch; a terrible noise was heard, which seemed to me like the blast of an unchained tempest, and I instantly became aware that I was falling, slowly falling, the heavy, thick foliage seeming to retard my fall, though I scratched and bruised myself fearfully on the sharp points of the smaller branches and the knobs on the larger ones. It seemed as though I was a century falling; and in the midst of my bewilderment I thought I heard overhead, up in the tree, exclamations, cries, and a confused clamor.
Finally, my descent grew faster and faster. I tore some of my clothing, and at last fell flat on my face on the turf. I bounced up like a ball, and went off, running like a hunted deer. What I wanted was to hide myself—to disappear—to cover up, if possible, my wrong-doing and its ludicrous result.
This thought spurred me on, and gave me wings, and even sharpened my wits, leading me to plunge into the covered walk through the fruit trees, where they could not see me from the yew. From that to the little grove was but a step, and from the grove to the arbor covered with honeysuckle, no distance at all. Into that I rushed, and without paying any attention to my scratched and bloody hands or my bruised condition, excited, beside myself, I lowered myself over the wall, and, once out of the orchard, did not consider myself safe till, pushing on through short cuts and cross-paths, I reached the beach. “A perfect alibi!—I was bathing!”
I undressed myself in a twinkling.
CHAPTER XV.
The wedding took place two days after this episode. I awoke that day with a violent pain in my chest. By dint of applying cloths soaked with arnica, which I slyly procured of the druggist in San Andrés, I had succeeded in partly disguising the scratches and bruises I had on my face. As for my clothing, I had only torn the lining of my coat; that was lucky. The only two witnesses of my fall had doubtless agreed to keep silent; but they would look at me from time to time, and I felt a disagreeable sensation on meeting Carmen’s surprised and severe gaze, or the Franciscan’s eyes, in which I thought I observed a humiliating mixture of anger and contempt. For that cause I deeply regretted my bruised condition, thinking to myself, “I’ll bet I have sprained or broken something, and that will necessarily let the cat out of the bag.” To my physical depression there was joined a mental state of considerable excitement, as the following paragraphs from my latest letter to Luis will demonstrate:
“My dear boy: I don’t know how to tell you what has happened to me. By chance I have discovered Carmen’s secret, and I am convinced that she is an angel, a seraph in the shape of a woman. The friar was right when he declared that Carmiña is the type of a perfect Christian woman. Undoubtedly there is something in such a woman which calls for reverence; something heavenly. I did wrong to doubt it or even to imagine that she might not be a saint. If you knew how unhappy she is, what self-sacrifice she is making! I will tell you what is going on—and then you say whether there can be greater heroism or dignity of character. I have been lost in amazement ever since I have learned the motives for her conduct.”
I then proceeded to explain affairs at length, praising Carmen’s wonderful strength of character; and added, to finish making a clean breast of it: “I think that the friar is good, also. Although it may seem very strange, yet I am inclined to think that he does fulfill his vows. There is no doubt of it, my boy, he will fulfill them. Virtue does exist, of course it does! There is even such a thing as country! I don’t know really what my feelings are; whether, since I have seen clearly what my auntie is I love her more, in a highly refined way, or whether I no longer care for her as a woman. What I am sure of is that my uncle does not deserve the treasure which has fallen to him from heaven. I know I shall never find such a woman, if ever I get married myself some day.”
I wrote this letter on the eve of the fatal day. At daybreak next morning I felt sore, as I was saying, and all my bones ached; I had a great desire to stay flat on my back without moving, thinking, or breathing scarcely. But the cursed acolyte came into my room with his customary jokes and boyish pranks, and at once fell to pulling off the sheets.