 | CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MYSTERY SOLVED. The border rover |  |
37. CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MYSTERY SOLVED.
I looked at the silver plate on the door, and, by
the light of the street lamp, read the single name of
“Alvarez.”
I started, and trembled with excitement. What if,
after all, the negro had mistaken the carriage? I
hastily rung the bell.
“Does a gentleman reside here, named Juan El Doliente?”
I inquired of the liveried servant who answered
my summons.
“No, sah—don't know no such gent'lem!” was the
courteous, but somewhat consequential reply; and the
sleek negro held the door in a way to denote he was
to retire.
It may be he has changed his name, or resumed his
right one, I mused, not a little perplexed and agitated.
“Will you be good enough to answer me a few
questions?” said I, slipping a silver coin into the
hand of the black.
“Sartin, sah—wid pleasure,” he quickly replied, in
a changed tone, letting the door swing back, and thus
disclosing to my view a long, high, lighted hall,
richly furnished.
“I am seeking a gentleman who once did me an
essential service,” I resumed; “but as he was rather
an eccentric personage, he may have changed his
name. It is possible your master may know something
of him—if, as I infer from the name, he is a
Spanish gentleman, and countryman of this El Doliente!”
“Shall I 'quire ob mas'er?” queried the black.
“A question or two first. How long have you
served your present master?”
“'Bout a year, I 'spect.”
“Is he a married man?”
“No, sah.”
The answer produced in me a very singular sensation—a
sensation I cannot define. I commanded my
feelings, as well as I could, and continued:
“How long has he resided in this city?”
“He's been here seberal time, sah—but he only
bought dis place jus' afore I come to lib wid him.”
“Has he traveled much?”
“Great deal, sah, I 'spect.”
“Has he ever been in Mexico?”
“Yes, sah—he come from dat dar way last.”
“Do you know whether he was ever out on the
prairies among the Indians?”
“Yes, sah—dat's whar he's been too, sah—he's been
most ebery whar, sah!”
“Enough!” said I, finding that my feelings were
getting the mastery of my will. “Will you now be
so obliging as to inform him, that a gentleman desires
a few minutes' conversation with him in private?”
“Yes, sah—I'll tell him. What name shall I's say,
sah?”
I hesitated a moment, and replied:
“No matter about the name; but merely say a gentleman
who once knew him in another part of the
world.”
“Yes, sah—please step into de drawing-room and
I'll tell him, sah!”
“Thank you; but I would prefer to wait here till
you bring me an answer.”
“Yes, sah—jus' as you please.”
With strange feelings, and not a little external agitation,
I now stepped into the mansion, and stood, as
I believed, under the same roof with Adele Loyola.
The negro closed the outer door, and hastened away;
and there were a few minutes of suspense, during
which I mentally suffered as I hope never to suffer
again. At length I saw him hastily descending a
sudden weakness came over me, and I leaned against
the wall for support.
“Dis way, sah!” he said, apparently not perceiving
my agitation.
I summoned all my vital forces to my aid, and
quietly followed him. On reaching the second-story,
he threw open a door to the right, and ushered me
into a large, elegant library, with the single remark:
“Mas'er will soon be wid you, sah!”
I sent a quick, searching glance around, by a rather
dim light, which came from a large chandelier. Three
sides of the apartment were occupied with book-cases,
well filled; and the fourth was adorned by several
large, beautiful paintings. There was a writing desk,
open, with papers lying loose upon it; and there were
three or four large, elegantly stuffed arm-chairs; in
one of which I hastened to seat myself, as far from the
light as possible, and facing the door by which the
host must enter.
He came, even sooner than I wished; and I saw, at
a glance, he was no other than Juan El Doliente. For
a moment I felt as if I should faint; but I thought of
the wrongs of Adele, and instantly my nerves became
as iron. I was resolved, and felt sufficiently desperate
to make my resolution effective.
He approached me, with a look of curiosity, and I
arose to meet him.
“I have the honor, I believe, of addressing Juan
El Doliente?” I said, in a cold, firm tone.
He slightly started, and looked surprised.
“I have been so called,” he answered. “May I, in
return, sir, have the honor of knowing the name of
him who addresses me?”
“You do not know me then?”
The light was not bright where I stood, and I purposely
kept my features as much in the shade as possible.
“Your face seems to have a familiar look,” he
answered, eyeing me closely; “but I do not know
where to place you, or by what name to address you.
I am almost certain, however, we have met before.”
“I am quite certain,” I rejoined, “that you have
seen me in reality, and perhaps in your dreams.”
“This is somewhat strange language,” he observed,
a little haughtily. “If you do not choose to give me
your name, will you be kind enough to state your
business?”
“I will do both, sir,” returned I, with heat. “As
for my name, I am at present to be known as The
Avenger; as to my business, I am here to make my
name good.”
“You talk enigmatically,” he rejoined, the blood
mounting to his temples.
“Then allow me to say you are a villian, sir!” I
cried. “Do you understand that? or will you have
it in plainer English?”
Instantly the blood retreated, his features turned
pale, his dark eyes flashed, and his thin lips quivered.
“I know not what object you may have in thus
“but I warn you, young man, not to trust too much to
my forbearance—for I am human, and not always
master of my passions! I will bid you good evening,
and one of my servants will show you the way to the
street.”
He turned, as if to leave the apartment; but I
sprung before him to the door; and ere he divined
my purpose, I had closed and set my back against it.
“What do you want? are you mad?” he demanded,
looking perplexed and astonished, and evidently feeling
some degree of alarm.
“Perhaps I am mad!” I rejoined; “but what I
want is, a settlement with you for a most damnable
act? You see I am a desperate man! and am prepared
for a desperate deed!” I continued, producing
my pistols. “Now mark me, Juan El Doliente! we
are alone together, and must remain so till this affair
is settled. Attempt to ring a bell, or otherwise call
for help, and you are a dead man. What I want first
is, that you do answer me truly, as you hope for life,
or fear death, two questions.”
“Speak!” he said, growing much excited.
“First, then—are you a married man?”
“I have been.”
“But now? I mean now?”
“I am not—my sweet wife is in Heaven!” and his
voice trembled.
“Now, then,” continued I, “the most important
question of the two: Is Adele Loyola your victim?”
“Adele Loyola my victim?” he repeated, taking a
step or two backward, his features expressive of the
most unbounded amazement. “Good God! what do
you mean? who are you?”
“No stage attitudes and show tricks shall cover
your black-hearted villany!” cried I, desperately
grasping my weapons. “Answer me, as you will one
day answer your Maker! Is Adele Loyola your
victim?”
“Tell me, then, what you mean? and how I am to
answer?” he rejoined, in much agitation.
“I mean, then, have you seduced her from the path
of virtue? and ruined her like a villain? and you are
to answer truly, as God is your judge!”
“Seduced and ruined my own daughter? Great God
forbid!” he cried.
“How? exclaimed I, hardly able to credit my
senses, and feeling my brain reel, as the truth, mighty
and overpowering, flashed upon me. “Your daughter,
say you? Adele Loyola your daughter?”
“I see how it is!” he cried; “you knew her when
she was a friendless wanderer—and by a name that
was not her own—and hence this mistake.”
“But you are not deceiving me?”
“As I hope for salvation, no! Let me call her if
you doubt, and hear her confirm my words.”
The pistols fell from my hands; and reeling to a
seat, I sunk down upon it, faint, and half suffocated
with a whirl of contending emotions.
“I am a fool—an idiot—a madman!” I gasped, as
you, sir—deeply, bitterly wronged you—and I pray
your forgiveness for the almost fatal mistake.”
“You have my forgiveness, with all my heart,” he
said, in a kindly and sympathetic tone.
“I know much of her history, and something of
yours,” I continued—“enough of both to credit your
assertion.”
“But, in Heaven's name, pray tell me who you
are?” he cried, much excited,
“I am Roland Rivers.”
“Great God!” he ejaculated—“is it possible? Let
me look! Here—turn your face to the light! Yes—
yes—it is Roland Rivers: I see your features now, as
I saw them on the prairie. But you are so changed, I
might not have known you, even had I known you to
be living. But we all thought you dead; and Marina
has done nothing but mourn your loss. How wonderful!
how strange! how wonderful! how strange!”
and repeating these words, he sunk upon a seat, and
stared at me as one stupefied with amazement. “Oh,
my dear friend!” he cried, suddenly springing up and
embracing me—“this will be a night of joy to my
poor Marina!”
“To whom?” inquired I, not comprehending him.
“To my dear, long lost daughter Marina—to her
you knew as Adele.”
“Then Adele was not her name?”
“No more than that villain Loyola was her father.
Alexa Helena de Alvarez, Countess of Zamora.”
“A Countess!” exclaimed I; “poor Adele a Countess!
I am all amazement!”
“As well you may be, my friend. God's Providence
has worked wonders in all our lives; and I know not
who is most amazed, you or I. Do you know, I am
almost afraid to leave the apartment, lest on my return
I shall find you vanished into thin air, and
myself the sport of a delusion.”
“It gives me joy unspeakable to know I am so
esteemed by one whom but now I called a villain,”
said I; “but I assure you, you need not fear of finding
me a substantial reality for the present—though
perhaps not altogether a rational being.”
For a few minutes we remained together, absorbed
in wonder—neither saying much—but that little, in
a very slight degree, expressive of our inexpressible
thoughts and emotions.
“I am eager to hear you relate your remarkable
adventures,” at length said Alvarez, “and to learn
how you traced me hither!”
“And I to learn something of your remarkable
history,” I rejoined; “but first let me look upon the
sweet face of Adele; and then we will exchange
stories; and acknowledge, with humble, soul-felt
thankfulness, there is a Power that guards and guides
which is incomprehensible to finite beings.”
Alvarez crossed himself, bowed his head in silent
prayer, and rejoined:
“Call her not Adele, my friend—for the name was
bestowed by a villain, and revives painful recollections.”
“But she will always be Adele to me,” I said—
“for by that name she won my heart. However, I
will compromise. I will think of her as Adele, and
call her Marina. But pray let me behold her once
more!”
“Stay you here, and I will go and prepare her to
receive you.”
“Nay, do not that—but introduce me as a traveller
—a whilom companion of yours. I would test her
power of recognition: it may be no better than your
own.”
“Trust love for that,” he rejoined, with a smile.
“I only fear the shock of discovery may produce
unpleasant consequences.”
“Have I then really such a hold upon her heart?”
“Marina, like her sainted mother,” he replied, in a
tremulous voice, “is a being to love but once, for love
is her life. How she loves you, Roland Rivers, you
will soon ascertain. And my friend, (grasping my
hand,) you deserve her love—you are worthy of
her—and you are the only being on the face of this
earth to whom I would speak these words. Nay, no
self-disparagement! I know with what self-sacrifice—
with what nobility of soul—you saved her; and how
you watched over her, with the care of a father, or
brother, in your long, perilous flight from captivity;
I know all; and now I am ready to shed tears of joy,
two and only beings I truly love on earth, are about
to be made happy, I trust for ever. But I will bring
Marina hither, and let love take its course, if you will
promise to be guarded and prudent in making yourself
known.”
“Trust me, I will.”
“The light shall remain dim till you have tested
the eyes of love,” he said, with a smile, and left the
apartment.
I leaned back, and fancied I could hear the beatings
of my heart till the door again opened, and then it
seemed as if every organ of my system had suddenly
ceased motion.
| CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MYSTERY SOLVED. The border rover | |