This letter he sent. So he played upon the poor girl’s conscience, that as a child she had given him a smile; and bragged even to her that he had had her heart. This was Thursday, March 19, 1812. The marriage was set for the 26th. Ramon went to the club, the café which served as club to the aristocracy of Carácas, and announced publicly that his uncle was forcing his ward to marry him against his will. The General, when this story was brought to him, winced, but only replied: “My nephew knows I cannot fight him; I must leave my honor to the kind opinion of my friends.” This speech was repeated—“to the kindness of my friends;” and that night a dozen young gentlemen called upon the marquis and asked to be permitted to provoke Don Ramon. The General refused it to all, with one wave of his hand. “I marry my ward for family reasons; my nephew must be permitted to make what criticism he chooses.”
Don Ramon then announced his uncle a coward, and promised to prevent the marriage by force. Del Torre took no notice. Jacinta had taken the letter to Dolores, but Ramon got no reply. After his last threat, however, he received a call from a Jesuit priest, who was sent by the Archbishop and hinted of the Inquisition. Then the young man was silent for two days, and in devouring his rage he produced this letter to Dolores:
“Dolores: Hast thou confessed? And why no answer to me?
“For death (para la muerte),
“Ramon.”
To this Jacinta brought back a line:
“I shall confess upon my wedding-day. My answer to my husband, with the message that your Honour” (V., only, in Spanish) “did not give.
“Dolores, Condesa de Luna.”
For Ramon had never given the message that went with the rose.
All this was in Holy Week. Palm Sunday passed; the Wednesday came; Holy Thursday was the day fixed for the wedding—by the Archbishop’s special will.