Remember the Alamo [70]
upon. And there was a great
crowd and a great tumult. I think the whole city had a brain
fever."
At this moment Isabel began to moan in her sleep as if
her soul was in some intolerable terror or grief; and ere
Antonia could reach her she sprang into the middle of the room
with a shriek that rang through the house.
It was some minutes before the child could be soothed. She
lay in her mother's arms, sobbing in speechless distress; but
at length she was able to articulate her fright:
"Listen, mi madre, and may the Holy Lady make you believe me!
I have had a dream. God be blessed that it is not yet true!
I will tell you. It was about Fray Ignatius and our uncle the
Marquis de Gonzaga. My good angel gave it to me; for myself
and you all she gave it; and, as my blessed Lord lives! I
will not go to them! SI! I will cut my white throat
first!" and she drew her small hand with a passionate gesture
across it. She had stood up as she began to speak, and the
action, added to her unmistakable terror, her stricken face
and air of determination, was very impressive.
"You have had a dream, my darling?"
"Yes, an awful dream, Antonia! Mary! Mary! Tender Mary,
pity us!"
"And you think we should not go to the house of the marquis?"
"Oh, Antonia! I have seen the way. It is black and cold, and
full of fear and pain. No one shall make me take it. I have
the stiletto of my grandmother Flores. I will ask Holy Mary
to pardon me, and then--in a moment--I would be among the
people of the other world. That would be far better than Fray
Ignatius and the house of Gonzaga."
The Senora was quite angry at this fresh complication. It was
really incredible what she had to endure. And would Antonia
please to tell her where else they were to go? They had not
a friend left in San Antonio--they did not deserve to have
one--and was it to be supposed that a lady, born noble, could
follow the Americans in an ox-wagon? Antonia might think it
preferable to the comfortable house of her relation; but
blessed be the hand of God, which had opened the door of a
respectable shelter to her.
"I will go in the ox-wagon," said Isabel, with a sullen
determination; "but I will not go into my uncle's house. By
the saint of my birth I swear it."
"Mother, listen to Antonia. When one door shuts, God opens
another door. Our own home is yet undisturbed. Do you
believe what Fray Ignatius says of the coming of Santa Anna?
I do not. Until he arrives we are safe in our own home; and
when the hour for going away comes, even a little bird can
show us the way to take. And I am certain that my father is
planning for our safety. If Santa Anna was in this city, and
behaving with the brutality which is natural to him, I would
not go away until my father sent the order. Do you think he
forgets us? Be not afraid of such a thing. It cannot take
place."
Towards dusk Senor Navarro called, and the Senora brought him
into her private parlor and confided to him the strait they
were in. He looked with sympathy into the troubled, tear-
stained faces of these three helpless women, and listened with
many expressive gestures to the proposal of the priest and the
offer of the old marquis.
"Most excellent ladies," he answered; "it is a plot. I assure
you that it is a plot. Certainly it was not without reason I
was so unhappy about you this afternoon. Even while I
was at the bull-fight, I think our angels were in a
consultation about your affairs. Your name was in my ears
above all other sounds."
"You say it is a plot, Senor. Explain to us what you mean?"
"Yes, I will tell you. Do you know that Fray Ignatius is the
confessor of the marquis?"
"We had not thought of such a thing."
"It is the truth. For many years they have been close as the
skin and the flesh. Without Fray Ignatius the marquis says
neither yes or no. Also the will of the marquis has been
lately made. I have seen a copy of it. Everything he has is
left to the brotherhoods of the Church. Without
crowd and a great tumult. I think the whole city had a brain
fever."
At this moment Isabel began to moan in her sleep as if
her soul was in some intolerable terror or grief; and ere
Antonia could reach her she sprang into the middle of the room
with a shriek that rang through the house.
It was some minutes before the child could be soothed. She
lay in her mother's arms, sobbing in speechless distress; but
at length she was able to articulate her fright:
"Listen, mi madre, and may the Holy Lady make you believe me!
I have had a dream. God be blessed that it is not yet true!
I will tell you. It was about Fray Ignatius and our uncle the
Marquis de Gonzaga. My good angel gave it to me; for myself
and you all she gave it; and, as my blessed Lord lives! I
will not go to them! SI! I will cut my white throat
first!" and she drew her small hand with a passionate gesture
across it. She had stood up as she began to speak, and the
action, added to her unmistakable terror, her stricken face
and air of determination, was very impressive.
"You have had a dream, my darling?"
"Yes, an awful dream, Antonia! Mary! Mary! Tender Mary,
pity us!"
"And you think we should not go to the house of the marquis?"
"Oh, Antonia! I have seen the way. It is black and cold, and
full of fear and pain. No one shall make me take it. I have
the stiletto of my grandmother Flores. I will ask Holy Mary
to pardon me, and then--in a moment--I would be among the
people of the other world. That would be far better than Fray
Ignatius and the house of Gonzaga."
The Senora was quite angry at this fresh complication. It was
really incredible what she had to endure. And would Antonia
please to tell her where else they were to go? They had not
a friend left in San Antonio--they did not deserve to have
one--and was it to be supposed that a lady, born noble, could
follow the Americans in an ox-wagon? Antonia might think it
preferable to the comfortable house of her relation; but
blessed be the hand of God, which had opened the door of a
respectable shelter to her.
"I will go in the ox-wagon," said Isabel, with a sullen
determination; "but I will not go into my uncle's house. By
the saint of my birth I swear it."
"Mother, listen to Antonia. When one door shuts, God opens
another door. Our own home is yet undisturbed. Do you
believe what Fray Ignatius says of the coming of Santa Anna?
I do not. Until he arrives we are safe in our own home; and
when the hour for going away comes, even a little bird can
show us the way to take. And I am certain that my father is
planning for our safety. If Santa Anna was in this city, and
behaving with the brutality which is natural to him, I would
not go away until my father sent the order. Do you think he
forgets us? Be not afraid of such a thing. It cannot take
place."
Towards dusk Senor Navarro called, and the Senora brought him
into her private parlor and confided to him the strait they
were in. He looked with sympathy into the troubled, tear-
stained faces of these three helpless women, and listened with
many expressive gestures to the proposal of the priest and the
offer of the old marquis.
"Most excellent ladies," he answered; "it is a plot. I assure
you that it is a plot. Certainly it was not without reason I
was so unhappy about you this afternoon. Even while I
was at the bull-fight, I think our angels were in a
consultation about your affairs. Your name was in my ears
above all other sounds."
"You say it is a plot, Senor. Explain to us what you mean?"
"Yes, I will tell you. Do you know that Fray Ignatius is the
confessor of the marquis?"
"We had not thought of such a thing."
"It is the truth. For many years they have been close as the
skin and the flesh. Without Fray Ignatius the marquis says
neither yes or no. Also the will of the marquis has been
lately made. I have seen a copy of it. Everything he has is
left to the brotherhoods of the Church. Without