Miscellaneous.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 10070, 10 August 1895, Page 2 (Supplement)

Miscellaneous.

THE VENGENGE OF OARMELITA-

A Mexican Tale op " The Cave of

the Dead."

Far np in the defile In tbe Everlasting Sierrnß of the land of tbe Montezuraas, and overlooking a valley— tho Valley of the Angels — rests the liacienda of tbe Mines of the Holy Children, so named by tho Jesuits far baok In the dead past. A row of low, straggling abode buildings reach up tho canon from the mill to a tiny plaza— a plazi containing a few stunted oranee-trees, a stone bench or two, and a broken fountain that never flows. Near tho plnza Rtands a rude little chapel, so dilapidated In appearance that only a wooden cross lashed with rawhide and leaning from the rnof, and a cracked and clapperlesa bpll hanging by the door, distinguish it from its surroundings as a bonso of God. There is a house roofed with rough, red tiles [orraced np on the mountainside, p.- vo the church, and out in its wide pjrtico, one summer afterooon, a young man rested In n hammock, carelessly Bwaying himself to and fro aa his thoughts! drifted back into the past. Near by, n girl — rie of thosa creatures of the South through whoso veins courses that Latin- Tutfiau blood that turns to flame at a plr<nee — stood gently pouring water from an earthenware jug in(o an ollci that hung suspended from the roof. Her dress was simple — some loo^e, white garment, exposing her arms and shoulders, with a skirt of red material that fell only to a liulo below the knee". Great waves of dark hair fell unconfined down over hor shoulders, and her eyes, black and brilliant, rested on the man as she murmured : " Vida de mi alma — mio amor ! "

The girl had emptied her jug and had placed it on the floor. Sho stood leaning against the doorway, slowly braiding* her hair, and the man, turning suddenly in his hammock, exclaimed: "Ah ! little ono — Oarmelita mia — come here."

" Si, Seno>;'' she answered as she moved toward him. "What is the senor's wish ? "

As she reached his side, he drew bis arm around her, and drawing her face down to hi", pressed a kiss to her lips.

Like a flash she tore herself from him and atood trembling out of his reaoh, a flame of angry protust dartini? from tho depths of her c.yes as she cried : " Caramba ! What would you diablo ! " Tben Bhe strack him with her clenohed hand, and bursting iuto teßrs, passed into the house.

" The devil ! " exolaimed tho man. " Well, somehow, hor lips seemed to aay ' Drink Ma ' and I had to kiss her, eron if nhe is only my housekeeper's daughter. '' Then stretching back in his hammock, Maurice Stanfon, suporintendent of tho Mines of the Holy Children, made himself comfortable for his siesta.

As tho days sped by, hn made his poace with Carmelita, and after a while they would sit outon the portico during the evening, talking, or would wandor up the canon to a shrine, where a rude figure of the Madonna, with the Blessed Babe in her arms, had been carved in tho rock by hands crumhiel todußtlong years ago; thnro Tas « little spring thoro, too, and a stone seat beside it, and thoro, ono evening, he paaeed his arm gently around her and drew her to him. She did nnt resist.

" Kise me, Oarmellta cara," be whispered ; " kias me." and as hlio complied, he felt her tremble in his arms. He relea^od her, and slio dashed from him dowu tho tr'il, and.— he kDew that ho bad iron her.

It was daring the following month that Senor Don Jo«s f-'svtid ivfti, owner of the Mines of tho Holy Children, arrived from tho City of Mexico on his semi-annual visit of inspection. Aecomp»nyi,~g him were two ladioß, hie sister, tho Senora Gorzales. and hi* footer-daughter, Senoritn Guadalupo Ctlderon, cole descendant of au old C»stilinn family. It was late in the afternoon of the duj of her arrival that Staiitcm met her. She was loaning against tho balustrade of tho portico, gazing out over the roofs of the low hou«es to where a flock of doves rose and fell like a Poft, undulating clond of gray, and longaft<rward hercmomberfd her as be saw her then : a tall girl, taller than mojt, with groat brown cyea, and with a wealth of hair whioh turned almost auburn when touched by tho rays of th« sinking eiin.

During thai first ovenint,' she brought hor guitar and sang for him— sang thoho soft, sweoteongß of tho South ; and on tho following night tho; had

Oarmelita come and play while they rlnnced— w,l!zed — !imo and again in thi; portico, lighted only by the' beams of tho moon. As the girl plavod, she watched them with her oyc» full of anger, snd she Buffered, Buffered as keenly, as dunibl) . a? any creature, wild or tame, to whom there is a soul. Suddenly she stopped, threw down the guitar, and darting across the portico, left the house. She hurried up the canon until she came to the shrine, aDd then threw herself on tbe beuoh sobbing. " Oh, BlesBod Mother," she moaneil, " I love him so, Hove him bo ! Why ha* she come ! I hate her ! JJios, how I hate hoy ! Sho shall not take him from me, no ! I'll kill hor first ! " Her breath camo ahort and fast as ber bosom rose and fell irregularly. In her auger gho sprang to her^fect, and as she 1 paced up and down, the nails of ber tightly clenched hands pressed into the flesh until they wera dampened by the blood that oozed out, But ahe felt no

pain; not in her hand', but— hor heart,

" Madre de Dios," she moaned, " Ble3Bed Mother, send him to mo to-night, for

I love him bo. I waitod la9t n'ght so

ling, so long — and he was with her. Dear God, don't let me think <if hcr\

I'll pray — jes, I'll pray to the Virgin a hundred times, and ahe will hear and send him to me."

And there, Blill pr>iyiu)», two hourß later Slanton found her. She was all unconscious of his presenco until he softly called, "Oarmflita 1" With a glad cry abo sprang to her feet. " Oh, the Blossed Lidy ! " she exclaimed beneath her breath, " she has heard my prayers and sent him." And as ahe stood thera, the moonlight foil on her face, and ho noticed that her cheek 6 were stained with tears. " Why, CaruiclUa," ho said, "you have been crying." " Ye», tenor — a little," sho replied. " But why, dt?ar ? Nut for me P "

Sho cast her eyes down, and with a nigh nodded her head, and then burst into tears. Gently he drew her to a Eeat on tbr bench, and pressing her tretnoling f jrm close to him, Idaaed ber. "Oarmelita, darling, " ho murmured, " stop oryinj; and tell me what it is." After n wtujlo sho ceased, and, freeina hersielf from bis arms, turned to him und caught his fa-e firmly between hor . bands. Gazing into his eyes, her own sparkling through her tears, aho panted : "You love ni«. noP — m*l—me? Dios de mi alma ! You love me ?— not kef ! Is it not sol She is nothing to you, noF You danced with hor to-night, one — two — so man; times. f She shall not have you ! You nrotnine, mine ! Do you hear p " He heard, and with a something akin to fear, as he realized the intensity of her passion ; yet he drew her back to his arms, and there, with her head pillowed on hia shoulder, he told her that old, old story, and she — believed. Whither ho himself was drifting ho did not know, neither did he oare. He liked the charm of that dreamy languorous lifo of tbe south, and his little affair with OarrauliU was surely interesting ; but what would the end be ? — for end it must, and lih thought that perhaps afterwards it might prove a daugorous amueome'nt. At time 9, e°so while with her, a vision of a girl with mEBS«B of reddish brown hair would come to him, snd after awhile ha realized that he loved Goadalape. As the days came and passpd ftwny, he knew it for tho truth, and knowing, he wont to Oarmelita, inteudiug to tell her that all between thorn must end. Bnt at the moment, thinking of the eceno that mu^t ensue, hia oourage failod hira,iand ho drifted on with the tide of her passion,

One evening, as Stanton was coming vp fr»m the mill, where he had been detained mil il Jate, he met Guadilupe aa she came from the little cYiuroh, and together they aaceudad the trail to the house. Then, ia the porlieo, he placed her in aa easy cbair. Standing at its back, he took ber hand ia his, and she did not withdraw it. Then he told her of lii 9 love, and ehe threw her head back, raising her face to his. He bent and kissed uei — and she promised to be his wife. A low moan camo from the shadow of the building, bat they hoard it not, and C&rmelita, standing there in the darkness, gazed at them with all the hatred of her wild nature oroused. How clio passed that nighf, sho never knew ; but in the morning ehe wandered, not knowing whither, up the oafiio, past the ahrioe, and on until she came to where a precipitous bluff of rock abutted out from the mountain above. Here slio unconsciously left the trail and olimbed to its foot, where, turning a projecting ledge, ohe paused, ar>d a fear came to her, for ehe stood before the entrance to the Cave of the Dead, an ancient burial-place of the Indians. She h*d novor been thore beforp, but she had beard strange talcs told of that rude sepulchre, and she knew that behind the slab cf rook — ingeniously arranged to open aa a door and fastened with, ft wooden bar — that closed the entrance, was a natural vaulted chamber, and eke sbnddered as she thought of the luuuiinißed dead within. She had heard her father tell of how they were placed around the can 1 , kneoling and sitliDg as though in prayer, and of how hid'joua they appeared, with eyelesa sockets and sbrankon cheeks, their skin dark brown and parchment-like, filled with wrinkles Hnd drawn back from their glitteriug tenth, and with their long blaok hair falling over the raga, once blankets, that oovered their forms, as they rested thtrj in the nvvfnl stillness of the death that had claimed them for ages. She descended tha trail again, and walkort slowly back until aha reached the shrine. Then she paused, and gazinc long at the Madonna and Babe, made the sign of the cross. Seating herself ou tbo bench, Bhe bowed her head on ber bands. As she Bat there, Stanton oame up the trail with some miners, and aa he passed, he requested her to tell them at the bouse tbat ho would not return until late In the afternoon. She answered not, but her eyes filled with team as she eat gazing off into space, while she suffered in silence. An Lour passed, and then she became conscious of someone - approaching. BAsing from her seat, and peering down the trail, she buw Gundalupe comiDg slowly toward her, singing softly to herself. As she watched, she realized how beautiful ehe was, and the hatred in her heart broko into a fUrao, and a thought flashed through her brain that oauscd her to tremble and graßp at the bench for support. Thou acting on the inßtant she rushed forward, cryiner, " Senorita ! Senorita Guadahipe ! Madre de Dios, how can I tell jou ! Senor Stanton " Tbo girl turned faint and ganped, " What !— what is it P Where io he ? " Beaching her hide, Oarmellta panted out "In the the cavo up there. He fell and is hurt — be wants you. Coiae," and turning, she led the way at a rapid pace ; and Guadalupe, doubting not, followed ia an agony of fear. Breathlessly the girK sped on. Near- ! ing (.lie cnve, Carmelttn darted ahead arouud tho ledgo tbat screened the entrance, nnd opening tho door, pfißeed in before Guedalupo camo up. Then, reaching out her hands, sho oriod : "Hore, quiok ! Take my hand and I will hi'lp you to enter," and the girl coinplyiiie, stooil at her side. Leadiug her through tho gloom away from tho door, Carraelita caught her by the shoulders. I

" I bate y-u and your hu»uty," t-h cried. " Yon took him from me, tin

he wa 3 mino, all minn ! " " Dios mio ! Whit meiin you P ' Guadalupe escUimnrl , as ehe broko awn} from her in astonishment, oud shf called, "Mnnrice! M-uiio* 1 ' 1 bnt no answer came, Eavn tho echo of ber voice. As she ciiUed that nane, Oarmelitn sprann upon hur like a tigrjes. "Maurice!" aho pu.tedj " ab, you Bhall never poh him ngain. Diablo,

while ymi are bnri -d here in your living trave, I will \vntch him— suffer 1 ." In

vain ilid Gr.MH*lnp» struggle to escape from the \\<<\v furi us girl " After yon aro duiuj," »tio ooulinui'd, "dead 1 - — do

you hear ?— d^ad liko these forme around u% I will kill— Aim!" and she pressed hi>r fingers into Guadalupo's throat until ih«J girl gasped for breath. Springing up at last, she rushed from I the cave, securely fastened the door, and Btotd listening as thi imprisoned girl da<sh.-d against It— too late One scream and all was Nilent ; for Guadulupe lay stretched in a merciful oblivion on the floor amid tbe dead. For days tha mountains and surtouuding country were filled with searohers for tbo mi-sing cirl ; bnt In vain, for not a trace of tho missing girl could be

Eound. It was lato in Iho night of the fifth day after hi>r vanishment that Stan'on, tired arid weary, yet nimble to Bleep, entered the little plnM, and throwing him«e)f on one of the old stone benches, sobbol nut in hii t>ri«f. H" w |r T e he remained there id bis soli ude hr> did not kno.t-.; when, instinctively feeling (he prosinco of another, he raised hia ojfia, aud thuie, with a look of uniniatukable scorn covering her fiu'e t»a Bhe gazed down on him, stood Carmelita. " Carmelita '.—you ! " he exolaimed. " Si, senor, f. You did not expeot to Roe me, m<\ ton " Sha did not finish, for be had dropped hia head with a moan on the back of the bsneh. Then, as she stood there wotchin2 biro, the truth oame to her tbat, aftor all, the bate phe ahe had allowed herself to imagine she felt for him was only a phase of her great love, mid ahe dropped on her knees at bis' side. Winding her soft arms around him, Bhe tried to draw his face down to hr>rs. " Carmelita," he said, as he put her gently from him, " all between v* must end. " I hove lied to yon, d.oeivod you. I do not love you. To-morrow I will arrange in a way that will always Keep you from want. Now leave me, for I wiah to be alone." While he was speaking she rose to her feet, and stood with rigid limbs and clenched teeth, and as he ceased, she broke forth with a ory of rage »nd cursed him with all the ferocity of her wild nature "It is Quadalupe jon love! she cried, in her anger. " I heard you mk her to be your wife, but— sho nevjr will ! So ! no ! " and she broke into a wild laugh. " She is dead by otwdead with the dead in the civd ! Stanton (sprang to his feet. " What, you daushter of hull ! " ho shou'ed, and seizing hnr in his arms he lifted «nd dashed hor from him with alt his strength. , Don Joae and Stanton ranched the aivo just as tho sun was rising over the distant mountains across the valley. With trembling hands they threw open the door and outered. At first, in the darkness, they could distinguish nothing, and thin, as their opos gr<>w ncouatomed to tbe'wa'n liyht, thpy sa*-. Yes, there was Gnadalupe aUndina before them, her dress disordered and torn and hor hnir falling in a tangled mws over her face ana Bhoulderß. Tho fingers of one bo.nd were pressed to her lip?, and the other exiended toward the kneeling forms -f the dead. ' Hußh ! " she whispered, " hash ! They are praying —the fathers— wait ! I will tell them you have come. Maybe they will not mind— Mrfy have bean prayinii for so lone, so long." acd turning and saying, " Farther Antonio, some visitors have come," she placed her hand on the shoulder of ooe of the dead. At the touch, it crumbled with a dall rattle into a h^ap of bones and ra.;s, throwing oat a little oloud oE stifling dust. " My GrOcl 1 " moaned Don Joe<s, " It ia horrible — aho has lost her mind I Guadalupe," ho cried, stepping towards her, " don't you know me ? " The gnzad at him for a moment only, then slowly pacing tho cave and winding hor hair about hrr f.ice. ahe murmured : " Maurice, my Maoris, is going to take m 9 away. Oh, if ho would only come ! Guadalune is so tired waiting." " Gnadalupa," Stanton sobbed out, "Guadalupa, darling, I am Maurice. Come to me, dear." She walked toward him, aud standing there with her bands cla9ped across her breast, looked up into his oyes, her facß kindling into transcendental beanty as ahe faintly smilod and slowly shook her bead. "No," she said, "you are not Maurice — not my Maurice. lamto be his wife, and he loves me. No !— he is dead, be is hurt— he is here in— oh ! I can't find him," and dropping her olasped hands and bowing her head, she whispered: "He loves me— he lovos me." Then stepping suddenly back, she threw her hands to her head, and, gazing at him with her great tawny oyes, " Manrlce ! " she screamed ; " Maurice ! save me ! " and, as she tottered forward in a faint, he caught her in his arms. Tenderly they took her from that place of tho dead, aud carefully they nursed her ; but thu shock had boen too severe, and as the days passed away she sank lower and lower, until at last the end cime. It was not until then that she became conscious. Sho knew that «ho was dying, and bade them all farewell; though she had no fear of death, she wept, for it was so hard to leave that newly-found happiness iv which she hud lived but a few hours. Late in the afternoon, a 9 tho last golden rays of tho setting sun fell in through the open window and across her bed, sba asked Stanton to take her in his arms. Ho gently raiaod hsr to his breast, where Bhe rested quiotiy for a few moments, and theu whispered : "Maurice, darling, I am dying— kiss me, Bweetheart." He bent and pressed his lips to hers. "Onceagiin, Maurioe, my darling," she said, " hiss me once again — the last — the very last titup — forever — Maurice — in heaven — my husband." tier head fell back on his arm, and her swe<st browa eyes, which never more would look on anything this side of heaven, rested on his face, as she passed to eternal peace down into the Valley of the Shadow.

George Warren Stealey. San Fhancisco, March, 1895.