"I, for my part," said Pedro, in a low voice, as if to himself, "ever since there was a stain of blood in my house--"
"Pedro! Pedro! are we always to go back to that? Why will you make yourself wretched? Of what use is it to return to the past, for which there is no remedy?" said Anna.
"The truth is, Anna, what I suffer at times overwhelms me, and I must give it vent. Often at night, when I am alone in my house, it falls upon me. Anna, believe me, many a night, when all is still and sleep flies from me, I see him; yes, I see him--the grenadier my son slew. I see him just as I saw him alive, in his grey capote and fur cap, rise out of the well and come into the room where he was killed, to look for the stains of his own blood. I sec him before my eyes, tall, motionless, terrible."
At this moment the door opened, and a figure, tall, motionless, terrible, with a grey capote and a grenadier's cap stood upon the threshold.
All remained for an instant confounded and fixed in their places.
"God protect us!" exclaimed Maria. Angel clung to his father's breast, Angela to the skirts of her grandmother.
"Ventura!" murmured Elvira, as her eyes closed and her head fell upon her mother's bosom.
The woman for whom there had been no forgetfulness, had recognized him.
Pedro rose impetuously and would have fallen, the poor old man not having strength to sustain himself; but Ventura, who had thrown off his cap and capote, sprung forward and caught him in his arms. The scene which followed, a scene of confusion, of broken words, of exclamations of surprise and delight, of tears and fervent thanks to heaven, is more easily comprehended than described.
When Ventura had freed himself from the embrace of his father, who was long in undoing his arms from [{665}] the neck of the son whom he could hardly persuade himself he held in them, he fixed his eyes upon Elvira. She was still supported by her mother, who held to her nostrils a handkerchief wet with vinegar. But she was no longer the Elvira he had left at his departure. Pale, attenuated, changed, she appeared as if bidding farewell to life. Ventura's brilliant eyes became softened and saddened with an expression of deep feeling, and, with the frank sincerity of a countryman, he said to her: