Wichita eagle., 1888-04-29

| whose heir he had become. had succumbed
to a mortal malady, and despite the
grievous condition of the roads, that ice
and snow made nearly impracticable, he
had unhesitatingly begun the journey.
/ "Gold' was at the end of it,
! AS the carriage slowly mounted the de-
files that crossed the Sierra de Saint
Adrian, the fiscal felt himself invaded by
a sentiment of melancholy-a vague pre-
sentiment. Why? Unless it was the loneli-
ness of the place, the somber grandeur of
the pines that crowned it, the Steep pre-
ciptous ascent up which the vehicle
labored at an almost perpendicular angle,
he could not have told you. The sudden
stoppage of the carriage some fifty rods or
SO beyond the chapel of Saint Adrian
abruptly reused him from the reverie into
which he had fallen, and at the same mo-
ment group of men concealed in the
rocks and crevices of the mountain flung
themselves upon the brides of the horses;
voice commanded him to descend
II descendr' said De Soils escornfully;
'back, ladrones, back at once-thou art
talking to the Fiscal Don Andres de
Solisn'
"Don Andres the fiscaln' No, Don
Andres the miser; Don Andres the
usurer!'' the brigands answered, advanc
ing wrathfully. Their chief, however, O.
young man, handsome, well built. and
with the eye of an eagle, pushed them
aside and placed himself at the opening
to recoil Immediately with a cry of aston
ishment, echoed by the prisoner within
for the features of the one were the feat
ures of the other-the likeness between
them incredible; only in the case of Don
Andres de Soils the face was wrinkled and
faded by time; in the case of the young
man brown, fresh and ruddy. AS for the
rest, the heavy eyebrows, the brow, broad
and full, the nose, long and aquiline, all
were the same-not line was missing.
''Thy name, boy, thy nameg' demanded
De Soils in a stitlcd voice; ''give me thy
name'
''Cristoval, the trabuceire (brigand)-I
have no otherr'
my son, my son Cristovall'' extending
his arms with cry Of JOY, forgetting
everything in the rapture of the moment,
and seeing but the face before him, young,
proud and naughty. 'Thou art my son."
he continued; my son stolen from me in
infancy and mOurned SO long. / know it
i tell thee l know it,
Cristoval smiled contemptuously.
"Think not, Don Andres" signing to
his men to withdraw little, ''think not
to escape by so infamous a ruse. am
waif-reScued from the pavement, it is
true; | also have the misfortune to resem-
bic you strangely; nevertheless, believe
thou lest, for there is naught else in like
ness or kinship between US. 1t is better
so, for thou wouldst be shamed by son
in the ranks of the miserable trabu-
CARES, hunted like fer ociOuS beasts;
whilst |, were it true, should scorn aud
loathe myself. What, |, the free and
honorable trabucaire, who fights an en-
envy openly and bravely, the son of Don
Andres the Fiscal, the Judas who sells his
friends as the disciple sold his Lord!
Never! And if / thought it true l would
this moment dash out my brains on the
rocks at our feet to atone for my misfort
une-to eXpiate my shame. All the
same | shall conduct myself toward thee
as if really thy son. Wait moment
hear me out" calmly repulsing the fiscal,
who had thrown himself forward with q
movement Of JOY; there are times when
an honorable and voluntary death is
enough TO efface a criminal and ugly
past. Behold this pistOl-take it and kill
myself! If we are of the same blood,
thou wilt comprehend that my PROPOSE
ton honors thee and that thou shouldst
not hesitate. Accept it and / will &C
k owledge thee as my father before all
my comrades. What say your"
The face of Don Andreas whitened, his
lips trembled. The trabucaire shrugged
his shoulders.
Soul of fiscal-soul of cowardl I am
not Of thy unworthy race. II is well, and
thou shalt live-live in the scorn of all,
but on condition that thou keepest silence
upon all that has passed between us and
outrage me no more by the title of SON.
1t is an insult l shall instantly avenge'
Miserable boy" cried the unhappy
father, ''were thy mother here thou
wouldst not dare deny her. Return with
me to thy home; quit forever these de-
spairing fugitives; come 20 thy mother,
Rosarior'
THAT they may say, Like father, like
SOM No, will not return: nevertheless,
/ will see the Donna Rosario, and see her
SOON"
The summer that followed this scene
upon the Sierra de Saint Adrian course
of bull fights had been announced at Val
ladolid. You know the passion of the
Spanish people for this style of diversion
and how they run to them for leagues
around. All the same | was struck with
when | entered the circus,
for the vast and double amphitheatre, the
boxes opening upon the place of the tau
reauX and every inch and corner Of the
building seemed to rock and
tremble with the thunders of applause.
The signal was given by the alcalde,
or corregidor Il have forgotten which,
the toreros clustered in the space like D
dock of brilliant birds. A magnificent
bull from Ciudad-Rea bounded into the
ring, amid the plaudits of the people and
the alguazils hurtling about him, the
pointed darts of the bull fighters with
their wadS of burning paper teasing and
singing him ceaselessly. For moment
the animal remained motionless, his head
hanging, his tail switching his TANKS, his
legs trembling convulsively
''Tcro major dad bulD "Toro malor'
screamed q thousand voices
The picadores advanced upon him; the |
bull retreated; he was coward; indeed, |
a child could have frightened him.
THE dogs! the dogsn' cried the people |
loudly, and all heads turned toward the
box of the corregidOr, for he alone could |
grant the demand of the eXaSperated |
public. l turned with the rest TO the box |
Of the magistrate; beside him at the back |
Of the box was the figure OF woman in
deepest mourning. pale, emaciated, no |
longer young, but whose features still pre- |
served the traces OF angelic beauty. She |
seemed to assist at the corriGa as corpse |
or statue might have done, and her re-
gard was vague and fixed as if contem- |
plating something invisible TO all save her |
who is shey' demanded of an oblig- |
ilS neishbor.
Donna Rosario de Soils" he answered, |
80 Sn.n,- L. L.