The Free Lances Part 13

"Your Excellency," she said, doing her utmost to look humble; "we have come to beg a favour from you."

A gratified look, like a gleam of light, illuminated Santa Anna's swarthy features. Ysabel Almonte begging favours from him! What better could he have wished? With all his command of features he but ill-concealed the triumph he now felt. It flashed up in his eyes as he said respondingly--

"A favour you would ask? Well, if it be within my power to grant it, neither the Condesa Almonte, nor the Dona Luisa Valverde need fear refusal. Be frank, then, and tell me what it is."

The Countess, with all her courage, still hesitated to declare it. For despite the ready promise of compliance, she did fear a refusal; since it had been asked for that same morning and though not absolutely refused, the answer left but little hope of its being conceded.

As is known, at an earlier hour Don Ignacio had paid a visit to the Palacio, to seek clemency for a prisoner-of-war, Florence Kearney. But pardon for a state prisoner was also included in his application--that being Ruperto Rivas. Of all this the ladies were well aware, since it was at their instigation, and through their importunity, he had acted.

It was only, therefore, by the urgency of a despairing effort, as a _dernier ressort_, these had now sought the presence as pet.i.tioners, and naturally they dreaded denial. Noting the Condesa's backwardness--a thing new but not displeasing to him, since it gave promise of influence over her--Santa Anna said interrogatively:

"Might this favour, as you are pleased to term it, have ought to do with a request lately made to me by Don Ignacio Valverde?"

"'Tis the same, your Excellency," answered the Countess, at length recovering spirit, but still keeping up the air of meek supplication she had a.s.sumed.

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Dictator, adding, "that grieves me very much."

He made an attempt to look sorry, though it needed none for him to appear chagrined. This he was in reality, and for reasons intelligible.

Here were two ladies, both of whom he had amatory designs upon, each proclaiming by her presence--as it were telling him to his teeth, the great interest she felt in another--that or she would not have been there!

"But why, Excellentissimo?" asked the Countess, entreatingly. "What is there to grieve you in giving their freedom to two men--gentlemen, neither of whom has been guilty of crime, and who are in prison only for offences your Excellency can easily pardon?"

"Not so easily as you think, Condesa. You forget that I am but official head of the State, and have others to consult--my Ministers and the Congress--in affairs of such magnitude. Know, too, that both these men for whom you solicit pardon have been guilty of the gravest offences; one of them, a foreigner, an enemy of our country, taken in arms against it; the other, I am sorry to say, a citizen, who has become a rebel, and worse still, a robber!"

"'Tis false!" exclaimed the Countess, all at once changing tone, and seeming to forget the place she was in and the presence. "Don Ruperto Rivas is no robber; never was, nor rebel either; instead, the purest of patriots!"

Never looked Ysabel Almonte lovelier than at that moment--perhaps never woman. Her spirit roused, cheeks red, eyes sparkling with indignation, att.i.tude erect--for she had started up from her chair--she seemed to be the very impersonation of defiance, angry, but beautiful. No longer meek or supplicating now. Instinct or intuition told her it would be of no use pleading further, and she had made up her mind for the worst.

The traits of beauty which her excitement called forth, added piquancy to her natural charms, and inflamed Santa Anna's wicked pa.s.sions all the more. But more than any of them revenge. For now he knew how much the fair pet.i.tioner was interested in the man whose suit she had preferred.

With a cold cynicism--which, however, cost him an effort--he rejoined:

"That, perhaps, is your way of thinking, Condesa. But it remains to be proved--and the prisoner you speak of shall have an opportunity of proving it--with his innocence in every respect. That much I can promise you. The same for him," he added, turning to Luisa Valverde, "in whom, if I mistake not, the Dona Luisa is more especially interested. These _gentlemen_ prisoners shall have a fair trial, and justice done them. Now, ladies! can you ask more of me?"

They did not; both seeing it would be to no purpose. Equally purposeless to prolong the interview; and they turned toward the door, the daughter of Don Ignacio leading where she had before followed.

This was just as Santa Anna wished it. Seemingly forgetful of his cork-leg, and the limp he took such pains to conceal, he jerked himself out of his chair and hurried after--on a feigned plea of politeness.

Just in time to say to the Countess in a hurried, half-whisper:--

"If the Condesa will return, and prefer her request _alone_, it may meet with more favour."

The lady pa.s.sed on, with head held disdainfully, as though she heard but would not heed. She did hear what he said, and it brought a fresh flush upon her cheek, with another flash of anger in her eyes. For she could not mistake his meaning, and knew it was as the serpent whispering into the ear of Eve.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A WOMAN'S SCHEME.

"My poor Ruperto is indeed in danger! Now I am sure of it. Ah, even to his life! And I may be the cause of his losing it."

So spoke the Countess Almonte half in soliloquy, though beside her sat her friend Luisa Valverde. They were in a carriage on return from their fruitless visit to the Dictator. It was the Countess' own landau which had remained waiting for them outside the Palace gates.

The other, absorbed with her own anxieties, might not have noticed what was said but for its nature. This, being in correspondence with what was at the moment in her own mind, caught her ear, almost making her start. For she, too, was thinking of a life endangered, and how much that danger might be due to herself. It was not poor Ruperto's life, but poor Florencio's.

"You the cause, Ysabel!" she said, not in surprise, save at the similarity of their thoughts. "Ah! yes; I think I comprehend you."

"If not, _amiga_, don't ask explanation of it now. It's a hateful thing, and I dislike to think, much more speak of it. Some other time I'll tell you all. Now we've work to do--a task that will take all our energies--all our cunning to accomplish it. However is it to be done?

_Valga me Dios_!"

To her interrogatory she did not expect reply. And the desponding look of Luisa Valverde showed she had none to give that would be satisfactory; for she quite understood what was the task spoken of, and equally comprehended the difficulty of its accomplishment. Perplexed as the Countess herself, and possibly more despairing, she could but echo the exclamatory words--

"How indeed! _Valga me Dios_."

For a while they sat without further exchange of speech, both buried in thought. Not long, however, when the Countess again spoke, saying--

"You're not good at dissembling, Luisita; I wish you were."

"_Santissima_!" exclaimed her friend, alike surprised at the remark as at its abruptness. "Why do you wish that Ysabel?"

"Because I think I know a way by which something might be done--if you were but the woman to do it."

"Oh, Ysabelita! I will do anything to get Florencio out of prison."

"It isn't Florencio I want you to get out, but Ruperto. Leave the getting out of Florencio to me."

Still more astonished was Don Ignacio's daughter. What could the countess mean now? She put the question to her thus--

"What is it you desire me to do?"

"Practise a little deception--play the coquette--that's all."

It was not in Luisa Valverde's nature. If she had many admirers, and she had--some of them over head and ears in love with her--it was from no frivolity, or encouragement given them, on her part. From the day Florence Kearney first made impression upon her heart, it had been true to him, and she loyal throughout all. So much that people thought her cold, some even p.r.o.nouncing her a prude. They knew not how warmly that heart beat, though it was but for one. Thinking of this one, however, what the countess proposed gave her a shock, which the latter perceiving, added, with a laugh--

"Only for a time, _amiga mia_. I don't want you to keep it up till you've got a naughty name. Nor to make fools of all the fine gentlemen I see dangling around you. Only one."

"Which one?"

She was not averse to hearing what the scheme was, at all events. How could she be, in view of the object aimed at?

"A man," pursued the Countess, "who can do more for us than your father; more than we've been able to do ourselves."

"Who is he?"

"Don Carlos Santander, colonel of Hussars on the staff--aide-de-camp and adjutant to El Excellentissimo in more ways than military ones--some not quite so honourable, 'tis said. Said also, that this staff-colonel, for reasons n.o.body seems to know, or need we care, has more influence at Court than almost any one else. So what I want you to do is to utilise this influence for our purpose, which I know you can."

"Ah, Ysabelita! How much you are mistaken, to think I could influence him to that! Carlos Santander would be the last man to help me in procuring pardon for Florencio--the very last. You know why."

"Oh yes; I know. But he may help me in procuring pardon for Ruperto.

Luckily my good looks, if I have any, never received notice from the grand colonel, who has eyes only for you; so he's not jealous of Ruperto. As the obsequious servant of his master, hostile to him no doubt; but that might be overcome by your doing as I should direct."