The Rover of the Andes: A Tale of Adventure on South America - R. M. Ballantyne

Most people think him a mysterious madman. Some, who know him well, think him an over-sanguine enthusiast, but all agree in regarding him as a calm, gentle, amiable man, with a determination of purpose that nothing can turn aside, and with an intense desire for the welfare and advancement of the country which Mariquita the elder called her native land. Indeed it is thought by some that Pedro must have made to his wife some pledge or promise with reference to that subject, but no one can ascertain the truth of that now.

There is ground for this belief, however, for, as we sit on our perch, overlooking the valley, we see this Pedro, this Conrad of the Mountains, seated in the bower on the mound behind his dwelling, resting contemplatively at the well-loved spot, after one of his periodical returns. Mariquita the younger is beside him. They are both looking earnestly at the grave, and conversing about the time when they shall once again meet the lost one by the side of Jesus in the better land.

Till that day came, Pedro continued unflinchingly to prosecute his self-imposed task, whatever it might be. Whether or what success attended his efforts we cannot tell; yet have we reason to hope that his labour was not in vain. But of this much we are certainly sure, that, to the end of his days on earth he continued to be known as the Rover of the Andes; and when Death—at last—overtook him and arrested his benignant course, it found him advancing with trembling steps towards the old place, and closed with him, finally, as he pillowed his head on Mariquita’s grave.

The End.