What we say here is applicable to all the degrees of the social stage; not only to royal families, but to the miserable beggar's brood. Each revolution that changes the face of an empire, by bringing up to the surface unknown geniuses, at the same time plunges into an abyss of wretchedness and opprobrium those who for centuries have oppressed entire generations, and have in their time placed themselves on a level with the Deity, by believing everything allowed them.
Time, that impassive leveller, bringing progress in its train, incessantly passes its inexorable square over all that raises its head too high—thus pleasing itself by raising some and humiliating others. It has constituted itself the sole arbiter of human ambitions, and the real representative of that moral equality which would be an Utopia, if the great organic law of the harmony of the universe had not thus proclaimed its astonishing principles.
On the very day when Don Ruiz, after escorting Don Rufino Contreras to Arispe, returned to the hacienda, a courier arrived simultaneously with him. This man, who was mounted on an utterly exhausted steed, had apparently ridden a great distance, and was in an excessive hurry. No sooner had he reached the Toro than he was introduced into the Marquis's study with whom he remained shut up for a long time. Then the courier, on leaving the study, remounted his horse, and set off again without speaking to a soul. The almost fantastic apparition of this man caused the occupiers of the hacienda that instinctive fear which people generally experience from things they cannot account for.
The Marquis, whose face was usually imprinted with an expression of sad and resigned melancholy, had, after this interview, become of a cadaverous pallor; deep wrinkles furrowed his forehead, and his eyes stared wildly. He walked up and down the huerta for a long time in extreme agitation, with his arms crossed on his back, and his head bowed over his chest. At times he stopped, beat his forehead furiously, uttered incoherent words, and then resumed his walk mechanically—obeying an imperious want of locomotion rather than any other motive.
Doña Marianna, seated at a window of her boudoir, behind a muslin curtain, followed her father's movements, for she felt frightened at his state, and had a foreboding that she would have to share some of the sorrow which had fallen on him. The Marquis at length stopped, looked round him like a man who is waking up, and, after a moment of reflection, returned to his apartments. A few minutes after, a servant came to inform Doña Marianna that her father was awaiting her in the red chamber. In spite of herself, the maiden felt her apprehensions redoubled, but hastened to obey.
This red chamber, into which we have already had opportunity to introduce the reader, and which Don Hernando had not entered since the day when his brother was so inexorably disinherited by their father, was as cold and gloomy as when we saw it. The sole difference was, that time, by tarnishing the lustre of the hangings and tapestry, and blackening the furniture, had imparted to it a tinge of sadness, which made the visitor shudder as soon as he entered. When Doña Marianna reached the red chamber, she found her father already there; he gave her a silent sign to take a seat, and she sank into an armchair in a state of undisguised alarm. A few minutes after Don Ruiz entered, followed by José Paredes. The Marquis then seated himself in the spacious armchair that occupied the centre of the dais; he ordered the majordomo to close the door, and began in a feeble, trembling voice—
"My children, I have summoned you hither because we have to discuss matters of the deepest gravity. I have called to our council Paredes, as an old servant of the family, whose devotions we have known so long, and I trust you will not think that I have exceeded my rights in doing so."
The young people bowed their assent, Paredes placed himself by their side, and the Marquis continued—"My children, our family has for many years been tried by adversity. Hitherto, respecting the happy carelessness of childhood, I have sought to keep within my own breast the annoyances and grief with which I was incessantly crushed; for, after all, of what good would it have proved to lay a portion of the burden on your shoulders? Misfortune advances with gigantic strides; it catches us up one after the other, and it was better to let you enjoy the too short days of your happy youth. I have therefore struggled for all of us, concealing the grief which at times overwhelmed me, restraining my tears, and always offering to you the calm brow and the tranquil appearance of a man, who, if he were not entirely happy, was satisfied with his share of good and evil Heaven had allotted to him. Believe me, my children I should have continued this conduct, and kept to myself all the cares and annoyances of such a life as I lead, had not a sudden, terrible, and irremediably misfortune, which has fallen on me today, forced me, against my will, to impart to you the melancholy, frightful condition we are now in, and acquaint you with the posture of my affairs, which are yours, for I am only entrusted with the fortune which will be yours some day if we succeed in saving it."
The Marquis stopped for a moment, overcome by the emotion which contracted his throat.
"Father," Don Ruiz replied, "you have ever been the best of parents to my sister and myself. Be assured that we have anxiously awaited this confidence, which has been so long delayed in the fear of causing us a temporary sorrow; for we hoped we might be able to assume a portion of the burden, and thus restore you the courage necessary to support the gigantic struggle in which you have engaged with adverse fortune."