“Oh!” she said to him. “Make Juanito swear that he will obey faithfully the orders which you will give him, and we shall be content.”
The Marchioness trembled with expectation; but, when she bent over to her husband and heard Clara’s horrible confidence, the mother fainted. Juanito understood all, he sprang up like a caged lion. Victor took upon himself to dismiss the soldiers, after having obtained an assurance of perfect submission from the Marquis. The domestics were led out and delivered to the executioner, who hanged them. When the family were observed by none but Victor, the old father rose.
“Juanito!” he said.
Juanito made no response but an inclination of the head which was equal to a refusal, fell back in his chair, and regarded his parents with a dry and terrible eye. Clara came and sat on his knee, and began gaily: “My dear Juanito,” she said, putting her arm round his neck and kissing him on his eyelids, “if you only knew how easy death will be to me if given by you! I shall not have to submit to the hateful touch of an executioner’s hands. You will cure me of the ills which awaited me, and—my good Juanito, you did not wish to see me belong to anybody, did you—?”
Her velvety eyes darted a glance of fire upon Victor, as if to rekindle in Juanito’s heart his horror of the French.
“Be brave,” his brother Philip said, “or else our race, which is almost royal, will be extinguished.”
Suddenly Clara rose, the group which had formed about Juanito broke up; and the son, justifiably mutinous, saw erect before him his old father, who exclaimed solemnly: “Juanito, I command you!”
The young man remained motionless, his father fell on his knees. Involuntarily, Clara, Manuel and Philip followed his example. All stretched out their hands to him who should save their family from oblivion, and seemed to repeat these words of their father: “My son, will you prove lacking in Spanish energy and right feeling? Do you wish me to remain long on my knees, and ought you to consider your own life and your own sufferings?... Is this my son, madam?” added the old man, turning to the Marchioness.
“He consents!” exclaimed his mother in despair, observing Juanito move his eyebrows in a fashion of which only she understood the significance.
Mariquita, the second daughter, knelt and clasped her mother in her feeble arms; and, as she wept scalding tears, her little brother Manuel came to scold her. At that moment the almoner of the castle entered; he was at once surrounded by the whole family, they led him to Juanito. Unable to endure the scene any longer, Victor made a sign to Clara, and hastened to go and try a last effort with the general. He found him in good humour, in the middle of the feast, and drinking with his officers, who were beginning to exchange merry remarks.