“Pues señor! There was to be a marriage—without Don Eusebio’s consent. It was in the act of being solemnised. Jesu Cristo! what a termination! There lies the bridegroom. Where is the bride? Where her sister Mercedes? Ah, señor! you should see Mercedes—una cosa muy linda—the fairest thing in all the city of Puebla!”
“Excepting Dolores.”
The words went forth with a purely mechanical effort. I was in no mood for playing champion to charms never to be enjoyed by me.
“The robbery of the diligencia was a ruse, then?”
“Si, señor. Una engaña. A little stratagem of Don Francisco and his friends.”
“I thort thar was somethin’ queery beout it,” remarked the stage-driver.
“But what meant the ransom—the ten thousand dollars?” I asked.
“Ay Dios, señor capitan, that was part of the plot. Don Eusebio is muy rico—very rich indeed. For all that he is perhaps a little parsimonious. The young people knew that they would need money to commence housekeeping; and as it might be a long time, before the worthy parent would relent and grant them forgiveness, they thought it might be as well to borrow it from him in that way. Santissima! it has been a mistake—all, all! Oh, señores! you will not betray me? If it becomes known that I was a willing actor in this sad affair, I would not only lose the lucrative situation I hold in Don Eusebio’s family, but perhaps also my gown. Dios de mi alma!”
“My good padre,” I answered somewhat unmannerly, “we have no time to trouble ourselves about your future. We wish you to give some further explanation of the present. The marriage ceremony you speak of was interrupted. We know that. But why, and by whom?”
“Robbers, señor—real robbers! Salteadores del camino grande!”