However, my object is not so much to describe the political events which occurred in the country, as to narrate my own adventures, and those of my relatives and friends. My father had often intended to send my brother and me to England for our education; but my mother was unwilling to part with us, and suggested, instead, that an English tutor should be procured, who would give us the instruction we required. My father remarked that it was not only the knowledge we should obtain by going to England which would prove of value, but the training and general education we should receive at an English school. He had made up his mind to act as he thought best, notwithstanding our mother’s objections, when he was called in to visit an English traveller who had lately arrived at Popayan, accompanied by a secretary—Mr Laffan—for whom he seemed to entertain a warm regard. His malady increased, and my father soon saw that his hours were numbered, and told him so. The dying man acknowledged that his funds were nearly exhausted; that he was waiting remittances from England, but that it might be long before they arrived, if they ever came at all; and he was greatly concerned as to what would become of his attendant, who would thus be left in a foreign country without the means of leaving it, or of obtaining support. My father had not been favourably impressed by the appearance of Mr Laffan, who was tall and gaunt, with awkward manners and ungainly figure; but after some conversation he found him to be a man of considerable attainments and intelligence, and apparently thoroughly honest and trustworthy.
On the death of the unfortunate gentleman, my father found his companion plunged in the deepest grief.
“He was my best friend, sir, the truest I ever had in the world; and now he’s gone and left me all alone among savages, or little better, by the way they murder each other; and we may call them heathens, too, when we see them bow down to stocks and stones.”
My father, feeling for the poor man, inquired whether he would be willing to act as tutor to two boys. On receiving this proposal, Mr Laffan started up and pressed my father’s hand, and while the tears ran down his cheeks, assured him that he would gladly devote his life and energies to the task, hoping that my father would have no cause to regret having entrusted us to his charge.
Having seen his former patron placed in the grave, Mr Laffan took up his abode in our house, and well and faithfully fulfilled the duties he had undertaken—although, it must be confessed, in a somewhat curious fashion—and we soon became as much attached to him, I believe, as he was to us. He gave us not only mental, but physical training; for, in spite of his gaunt figure, he was a first-rate horseman, and thoroughly understood the sword-exercise, a practical knowledge of which he imparted to us. He was a good shot and a keen sportsman; and although he seldom spoke of himself, he had, I discovered, seen a good deal of service, and had honourable wounds to show. He was a devoted Liberal, and detested tyranny in every shape and form. As may be supposed, we admired his principles, which, indeed, were those of our father and uncle, and all the members of our mother’s family.
As I have said, Juan and I rode on, while Mr Laffan and Hugh followed close behind us. Our road lay between lanes bordered by hedges of the prickly pear, and gardens filled with fruit trees of every description; while before us rose the Cordilleras, adding much to the beauty of the scenery. Before we had ridden far, Don Juan confessed to me that, besides paying a promised visit to my friends, his object was to see Dona Dolores.
“She is beautiful and good, and full of sense and spirit, so unlike the greater number of my countrywomen,” he exclaimed; “I believe there is nothing that she would not dare and do.”
“I quite believe all you say of her, Juan,” I answered; though I confess I did not admire the young lady quite as much as my friend did. According to my taste, her manner was somewhat too determined and forward—shall I call it?—although I could not exactly say that she was masculine in her appearance, or wanting in feminine attractions; and I had no doubt that she could be soft and tender on occasion.
“But does Dona Dolores return your love?” I asked.
“I hope so; I have no reason to believe that she dislikes me,” he answered, “though I own that she treats me sometimes as if I were a mere boy. But perseverance conquers all difficulties. My great desire is to convince her of the sincerity of my affection, and that I am worthy of her love.”