LITMIR.BIZ

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don't know how much time had passed, when something like the vibrating wing of a bird came to brush against my forehead. I looked towards the immediate woods to follow it: it was a black bird.

      My room was cold; the roses at the window trembled as if they feared to be abandoned to the rigours of the tempestuous wind; the vase contained already withered and fainting the lilies that Mary had placed in it in the morning. At this a gust of wind suddenly blew out the lamp; and a clap of thunder let its rising rumble be heard for a long time, as if it were that of a gigantic chariot plunging from the rocky peaks of the mountain.

      In the midst of that sobbing nature, my soul had a sad serenity.

      The clock in the living room had just struck twelve. I heard footsteps near my door, and then my father's voice calling me. "Get up," he said as soon as I answered; "Maria is still unwell.

      The access had been repeated. After a quarter of an hour I was ready to leave. My father was giving me the last indications about the symptoms of the illness, while the little black Juan Angel was quieting my impatient and frightened horse. I mounted; his shod hooves crunched on the cobbles, and a moment later I was riding down towards the plains of the valley, looking for the path in the light of some livid flashes of lightning. I was going in search of Dr. Mayn, who was then spending a season in the country three leagues from our farm.

      The image of Mary as I had seen her in bed that afternoon, as she said to me, "See you tomorrow," that perhaps she would not come, was with me, and, quickening my impatience, made me measure incessantly the distance that separated me from the end of the journey; an impatience which the speed of the horse was not enough to moderate,

      The plains began to disappear, fleeing in the opposite direction to my run, like immense blankets swept away by the hurricane. The forests that I thought were closest to me seemed to recede as I advanced towards them. Only the moaning of the wind among the shady fig-trees and chiminangos, only the weary wheezing of the horse and the clash of its hoofs on the sparking flints, interrupted the silence of the night.

      Some huts of Santa Elena were on my right, and soon after I stopped hearing the barking of their dogs. Sleeping cows on the road began to make me slow down.

      The beautiful house of the lords of M***, with its white chapel and its ceiba groves, could be seen in the distance in the first rays of the rising moon, like a castle whose towers and roofs had crumbled with the passing of time.

      The Amaime was rising with the rains of the night, and its roar announced it to me long before I reached the shore. By the light of the moon, which, piercing the foliage of the banks, was going to silver the waves, I could see how much its flow had increased. But I could not wait: I had done two leagues in an hour, and it was still too little. I put my spurs to the horse's hindquarters, and with his ears laid back towards the bottom of the river, and snorting deafly, he seemed to calculate the impetuosity of the waters that were lashing at his feet: he plunged his hands into them, and, as if overcome by an invincible terror, he spun back on his legs. I stroked his neck and moistened his mane, and again prodded him into the river; then he threw up his hands impatiently, asking at the same time for all the rein, which I gave him, fearful that I had missed the flood-hole. He went up the bank about twenty rods, taking the side of a crag; he brought his nose close to the foam, and raising it at once, plunged into the stream. The water covered almost all of me, reaching up to my knees. The waves soon curled around my waist. With one hand I patted the animal's neck, the only visible part of its body, while with the other I tried to make it describe the cut line more curved upwards, because otherwise, having lost the lower part of the slope, it was inaccessible due to its height and the force of the water, which swung over the broken branches. The danger had passed. I alighted to examine the girths, one of which had burst. The noble brute shook himself, and a moment later I continued my march.

      After a quarter of a league, I crossed the waves of the Nima, humble, diaphanous and smooth, which rolled illuminated until they were lost in the shadows of silent forests. I left the pampa of Santa R., whose house, in the midst of ceiba groves and under the group of palm trees that raise their foliage above its roof, resembles on moonlit nights the tent of an oriental king hanging from the trees of an oasis.

      It was two o'clock in the morning when, after crossing the village of P***, I dismounted at the door of the house where the doctor lived.

      Chapter XVI

      In the evening of the same day the doctor took leave of us, after leaving Maria almost completely recovered, and having prescribed a regimen to prevent a recurrence of the access, and promised to visit her frequently. I was unspeakably relieved to hear him assure her that there was no danger, and for him, twice as fond as I had hitherto been of her, just because such a speedy recovery was predicted for Maria. I went into her room, as soon as the doctor and my father, who was to accompany him a league's journey, had set out. She was just finishing braiding her hair, looking at herself in a mirror that my sister held up on the cushions. Blushing, she pushed the piece of furniture aside and said to me:

      –These are not the occupations of a sick woman, are they? but I am well enough. I hope I shall never again cause you such a dangerous journey as last night.

      –There was no danger on that trip," I replied.

      –The river, yes, the river! I thought of that and of so many things that could happen to you because of me.

      A three-league journey? You call this…?

      –That voyage on which you might have drowned," said the doctor here, so surprised, that he had not yet pressed me, and was already talking about it. You and he, on your return, had to wait two hours for the river to go down.

      –The doctor on horseback is a mule; and his patient mule is not the same as a good horse.

      –The man who lives in the little house by the pass," Maria interrupted me, "when he recognised your black horse this morning, he was amazed that the rider who jumped into the river last night had not drowned just as he was shouting to him that there was no ford. Oh, no, no; I don't want to get sick again. Hasn't the doctor told you that I won't get sick again?

      –Yes," I replied; "and he has promised me not to let two days in succession pass in this fortnight without coming to see you.

      –Then you won't have to make another overnight trip. What would I have done if I…

      –You would have cried a lot, wouldn't you? -I replied with a smile.

      He looked at me for a few moments, and I added:

      –Can I be sure of dying at any time convinced that…

      –From what?

      And guessing the rest in my eyes:

      –Always, always! -she added almost secretly, appearing to examine the beautiful lace on the cushions.

      –And I have very sad things to say to you," he continued after a few moments' silence; "so sad, that they are the cause of my illness. You were on the mountain. Mamma knows all about it; and I heard papa tell her that my mother had died of a disease whose name I never heard; that you were destined to make a fine career; and that I – I – I don't know whether it's a matter of the heart or not. Ah, I don't know whether what I heard is true – I don't deserve that you should be as you are with me.

      Tears rolled from her veiled eyes to her pale cheeks, which she hastened to wipe away.

      –Don't say that, Maria, don't think it," I said; "no, I beg you.

      –But I heard about it, and then I didn't know about myself.... Why, then?

      –Look, I beg you, I… I… Will you allow me to command you to speak no more of it?

      She had dropped her forehead on the arm on which she was leaning, and whose hand I was clasping in mine, when I heard in the next room the rustle of Emma's clothes approaching.

      That evening at dinner time my sisters and I were in the dining room waiting for my parents, who took longer than usual. At last they were heard talking in the drawing-room, as if ending an important conversation. My father's noble physiognomy showed, in the slight contraction of the extremities of his lips, and in the little wrinkle between his brows,

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