The two English girls followed their conductors to the barracks, and there found all the best-known white women of Corrientes guarded by a troop of soldiers. Andresito soon made his appearance.
“Ladies, he said, I understand that you disapprove of Indian dances; therefore I have invited you here to teach us better. When each lady has condescended to dance with an Indian soldier she will be set at liberty.”
Miss Postlethwaite and her sister had the good sense to regard the affair as one of humour rather than of humiliation, and not stopping to point out 38 that they were being punished for the misdeeds of others, they readily yielded to the chief’s whim, and were the first to be dismissed. They hurried at once to the Plaza, and here a very unlooked-for sight awaited them.
Guarded by a hundred soldiers under Mexias, all the well-to-do men of the town were at work on their hands and knees, weeding the square, rooting out, with fingers or penknives, the tufts of shabby grass that grew plentifully between the cobble-stones! The heat was so suffocating that their father and other elderly men were well-nigh fainting; but there all were obliged to remain till the task was finished, shortly before sundown.
This indignity so enraged Postlethwaite that he was tempted to persuade the white men to combine against their persecutors and rid the town of them, but was deterred by the irresolution and petty jealousies of the Corrientes men, and by the thought of the terrible amount of bloodshed for which he would be making himself responsible. Abandoning that idea, he fell back on plans for escape. This would be difficult, if not impossible, for Indians were said to be in possession of the country all round, and flight by water was out of the question, because all the boats had been destroyed or sent adrift, and the larger craft from Buenos Ayres seldom came farther north than Goya.
By way of lulling any suspicions on Andresito’s part as to his schemes, he invited him and his staff to dinner one evening. The Indians conducted themselves with great dignity and politeness, and were very loud in their praise of British fare—particularly 39 of the “plom puddin Ingles” with which the host regaled them. Andresito’s bearing towards his young hostesses was gallantry itself; he even styled them his paysanitas or countrywomen, as well as Indias rubias (fair Indians.)
“But what makes you think we are your compatriots, Señor?” asked the younger girl.
“Ah, Señorita,” said Andresito, “I fear you have not studied the history of England as I have done. Did you not know that all the people in your country were Indians till the Spanish king, Julius Cæsar, conquered it?”
The dinner passed off very brightly and merrily, and at last the English merchant proposed the health of the Indian chief. This was drunk heartily; but Mexias, who had much of the mischief-maker and still more of the cad in him, having emptied his glass, broke it and threw the pieces over his shoulder, calling on the Indians to do the same. Now this was not at all an uncommon Spanish custom; but Miss Postlethwaite had strong objections to seeing every glass in the house broken, at a time when communication with the capital was cut off, and even the simplest household necessaries difficult to procure. She whispered a hint to Andresito, at which the hot-headed fellow sprang up, drew his sword, and vowed that he would kill the next man who broke a glass.
In revenge for this snub, the Peruvian asked the Postlethwaite ladies and others to a dinner; and when all had partaken of and commended the soup and entrées, he took occasion to inform his guests with great insolence that the substance of all the 40 savouries was horse-beef. This elegant practical joke was his last. The following evening he was met by the brother of one of the Spanish ladies, who promptly avenged the insult in a manner not unusual among people of Latin blood—by plunging a knife into his back.