He introduced me to his wife in the character I had assumed, and Mr Laffan as my tutor. Soon afterwards, several nice boys and girls of various ages entered the room. While refreshments were preparing, I endeavoured to amuse the children by playing with them. Though I spoke a word or two of ill-pronounced Spanish—not being supposed to understand their language—they were very free in their remarks, and I could scarcely refrain from laughing as I heard what they said. The lady spoke French; and as I knew the language pretty well, we could converse without difficulty. She somewhat puzzled me by the questions she put about England; but, as I found she had not been there, I gave her the best account I could of such places as I had heard my father and Uncle Richard describe.
Don José’s countenance wore a puzzled expression as he heard me talking, but I believe he from the first suspected who I was. I found him an amiable, good-natured man, and really anxious to save the lives of such prisoners as fell into the hands of the Spanish general.
I had been directed to plead for Dr Cazalla on account of his scientific attainments, and as it would be a disgrace, whatever his political opinions were, to put such a man to death.
Don José shook his head when he heard what I said. “That is the very reason why Murillo will desire to destroy him,” he observed. “His intention is to rid the country of all men of superior intelligence and influence; and he has especially vowed to put to death every lawyer who falls into his hands.”
As a last resource, I had letters from Don Cassiodoro to Murillo himself, which I was to deliver in person—bearding the lion in his den—with my tutor to act as interpreter. It was considered that there
would be no danger in this—that the doing so would rather tend to confirm him in the idea that I was a young English nobleman; and I should, on leaving the city, be able to proceed in any direction I might think fit. My only fear was lest Mr Laffan and I might encounter some person who had known us at Popayan, in which case we should be placed in a very dangerous position.
Next morning the sound of muffled drums was heard, and on going to the window with our host I saw a body of troops marching from the direction of the prison. In their midst walked several persons, each between two priests. I was struck by the appearance of one of the unhappy persons—who were evidently prisoners—a young lady of graceful figure and features, who appeared to me singularly beautiful.
“Who are they, and where are they going?” I asked of Don José in French, for he spoke that language as well as his wife.
“That lady is Dona Paula Salabariata; and she is going to her death.”