Don Gregorio was somewhat of a philosopher; and as such, as soon as the glamour thrown over him by Leon’s brilliant but inconsequent sallies of wit, and his daring and dashing manner, was dimmed, and above all as soon as his unreasoning sympathy with Isabel’s predispositions settled into a calm and sincere desire for her certain happiness and welfare, he began to look with some suspicion upon traits which had at first attracted him as the natural outcome of an ardent and generous nature.
Friar Francisco had accompanied the young brother and sister to the hacienda, partly to minister in the church, and partly as tutor to Leon; but in the latter capacity he found little exercise for his talents. Upon one pretext or another the boy at first evaded and later absolutely refused study; but he joined so heartily in the labors as well as pleasures of hacienda life,—he was so ready in resource, so untiring in action, so companionable alike to all classes, that Nature seemed to have fitted him absolutely for the position that he was apparently destined to fill in life. Yet though he was the prince of rancheros, the life of the city sometimes seemed to possess an irresistible attraction for him; and after months perhaps spent among the employees of the hacienda, in riding with the vaqueros or in penetrating the recesses of the mountain, even sleeping in the huts of charcoal burners, or in caves with rovers of still more doubtful reputation, he would suddenly weary of it all, and followed by a servant or two ride gayly down to the city to see how the world went there.
At first Don Gregorio had no idea how much those visits cost Isabel; but as time went on, and rumors reached them of the boy’s extravagant mode of life, Isabel became anxious and Don Gregorio indignant. Some investigation showed that a troop of young roysterers who called him captain were maintained in the mountains, and that a thousand wild freaks which had mystified the neighboring villages and haciendas might be traced to these mad spirits, among whom Don Gregorio shrewdly conjectured might be found many of the most daring young fellows, both of the higher and lower orders, who had one by one mysteriously disappeared during the few months preceding Leon’s eighteenth birthday.
Leon only laughed when taxed with his guerilla following, and although as he managed it it was a somewhat costly amusement, it was not an unusual or an altogether useless one in those days of anarchy; for no one could say how soon the fortunes of war might turn an enemy upon the land and stores of Tres Hermanos, and even Don Gregorio was not displeased to find the most refractory of his retainers placed in a position to defend rather than imperil the interests of the estate. As to the escapades of city life he found them less pardonable, for they consisted chiefly in mad devotion to the gaming-table, which Leon was never content to leave until his varying fortunes turned to disaster and his wild excitement was quelled by the tardy reflection that his sister’s generosity would be taxed in thousands to pay the folly of a night.
Before the age of twenty Leon Vallé had run the gamut of the vices and extravagances peculiar to Mexican youths, and large as the resources of Doña Isabel were, he had begun to encroach seriously upon them; for true to her mother’s request, she had never refused to supply his demands for money, though of late she had begun to make remonstrances, which were received half incredulously, half sullenly, as though he realized neither their justice nor their necessity. Isabel was now a mother, her daughter Herlinda having been born a year after her marriage, and their son Norberto, the pride and hope of Don Gregorio, three years later; and naturally the young mother longed to consider the interests of her children, which so far as her own property was concerned seemed utterly obliterated and overwhelmed by the mad extravagances of her brother.
Strangely enough, Don Gregorio attempted no interference with his wife’s disposal of her income, though it seemed not improbable that at no distant day even the lands would be in jeopardy. Perhaps he foresaw that as her means to gratify his insatiable demands declined, so gradually Leon’s strange fascination over his sister would cease; for inevitably his restless spirit would draw him afar to find fresh fields for adventure, since in those days, when the great struggle between Church and State was beginning and foreign complications were forming, such a leader as he might prove to be would find no lack of occasion for daring deeds and reckless followers, nor scarcity of plunder with which to repay the latter.
Whatever were his thoughts, Don Gregorio guarded them well, saying sometimes either to Leon himself, or to some friend who expressed a half horrified conjecture as to where such absolute madness must end, “See you not, ’t is foolish to squeeze the orange until one tastes the bitterness of the rind?” He expected some sudden and violent reaction in Isabel’s mind and conduct. But though she began to show she realized and suffered, she bore the strain put upon her with royal fortitude. Youth can hope through such adverse circumstances, and it always seemed to her that one who “meant so well” as Leon, must eventually turn from temptation and begin a new and nobler career.
At last what appeared to Isabel the turning point in her brother’s destiny was reached. He became violently enamored of the beautiful daughter of a Spaniard, one Señor Fernandez, who of a family too distinguished to be flattered by an alliance with a mere attaché of a wealthy and powerful house, was so poor as to be willing to consider it should a suitable provision be made to insure his daughter’s future prosperity. The beautiful Dolores was herself favorably inclined toward the gay cavalier, who most ardently pressed his suit,—the more ardently perhaps that he was piqued and indignant that the wary father utterly refused to consider the matter until Don Gregorio or Doña Isabel herself should formally ask the hand of his daughter, presenting at the same time unmistakable assurances of Leon’s ability to fulfil the promises he recklessly poured forth.
That Leon had turned from his old evil courses seemed as months passed on an absolute certainty. Not even the administrador himself could be more utterly bound to the wheel of routine than he. To see his changed life, his absolute repugnance even to the sports suitable to his age, was almost piteous; his whole heart and mind seemed set upon atonement for the folly of the past, and in preparation for a life of toil and anxiety in the future. For in examining into her affairs, Doña Isabel found that her income was largely overdrawn; Leon’s extravagances, together with heavy losses incurred in the working of the reduction-works, had so far crippled her resources that it was only by stringent effort, and an appeal to Don Gregorio for aid, that she was enabled so to rehabilitate the fortunes of Leon that he could hope to win the prize which was to make or mar his future.
Doña Isabel was as happy as the impatient lover himself when she could place in his hands the deeds of a small but productive estate, famous for the growth of the maguey, from which the sale of pulque and mescal promised a never failing revenue. The money had been raised largely through concessions made by Don Gregorio, and was to be repaid from the income of Isabel’s encumbered estate, so that for some years at least it would be out of her power to render Leon any further assistance. Don Gregorio shook his head gravely over the whole matter; yet the fact that the young man was virtually thrown upon the resources provided for him, which certainly without the concentration of all his energies and tact would be altogether insufficient for his maintenance, and also that he had great faith in the energy of character which for the first time appeared diverted into a legitimate channel, inclined him to believe that at last, urged by necessity as well as love, Leon would redeem his past and settle down into the reputable citizen and relative who was to justify and repay the sister’s tireless and extraordinary devotion. “Or at least,” he said to himself, “Isabel will be satisfied that no more can or should be done; and it is worth a fortune to convince her of that.”