Don Melchior, in spite of all his audacity, could not sustain the flashing glance which his father implacably fixed on him: a livid pallor spread over his face, a convulsive trembling agitated his limbs, his head was bowed beneath the weight of the anathema, and he recoiled slowly without turning round, as if dragged away by a force superior to his will, and at length disappeared in the midst of the guerilleros, who left a passage for him with a movement of horror.
A funereal silence pervaded the room; all these men, though so little impressionable, felt the influence of the terrible malediction pronounced by a father on a guilty son. Cuéllar was the first to recover his coolness.
"You were wrong," he said to don Andrés, with a shake of his head, "to offer your son this crushing insult in the presence of all."
"Yes, yes," the old gentleman answered sadly, "he will avenge himself; but what do I care? Is not my life henceforth crushed?"
And bowing his head on his chest, the old man sank into a deep and gloomy meditation.
"Watch over him," Cuéllar said to the count, "I know don Melchior, he is a thorough Indian."
In the meanwhile, doña Dolores, who up to this moment had remained, timidly concealed among her women behind the barricade, rose, removed some articles of furniture, glided softly through the opening she had effected, and sat down by the side of don Andrés. The latter did not stir; he had neither seen her come nor heard her place herself by his side. She bent down to him, seized his hand, which she pressed in her own; kissed him softly on the forehead, and said to him in her melodious voice, with an accent of tenderness, impossible to describe—
"My father, dear father, have you not a child left who loves and respects you? Do not let yourself be thus prostrated by grief; look at me, papa, in Heaven's name! I am your daughter, do you not love me, who feel so great a love for you?"
Don Andrés raised his face, which was bathed in tears, and opened his arms to the girl, who rushed into them with a cry of joy. "Oh! I was ungrateful," he exclaimed, with ineffable tenderness; "I doubted the infinite goodness of God; my daughter is left to me! I am no longer alone in the world, I can be happy still!"
"Yes, papa, God has wished to try us, but He will not abandon us in our misfortune; be brave, forget your ungrateful son; when he repents, remove the terrible malediction you uttered against him; let him return penitent to your knees; he has only been led astray, I feel sure; how could he help loving you, my noble father, you are ever so great and good?"