“Oh, my darling, my darling!” he moaned, raising the delicate form that he might pillow the head upon his knee. “How dared they harm you, my precious one! How dared they!”
Paola, struggling madly with his bonds, succeeded in bursting them asunder1, and now staggered up to kneel beside Valcour. His eyes were staring and full of a horror that his own near approach to death had never for an instant evoked2.
Taking one of the spy’s slender hands in both his own he pressed it to his heart and said in trembling tones:
272“Look up, sweetheart! Look up, I beg of you. It is Francisco—do you not know me? Are you dead, Valcour? Are you dead?”
A gentle hand pushed him aside, and Lesba knelt in his place. With deft3 fingers she bared Valcour’s breast, tearing away the soft linen4 through which a crimson5 stain had already spread, and bending over a wound in the left shoulder to examine it closely. Standing6 beside the little group, I found myself regarding the actors in this remarkable7 drama with an interest almost equaling their own. The bared breast revealed nothing to me, however; for already I knew that Valcour was a woman.
Presently Lesba looked up into the little man’s drawn9 face and smiled.
“Fear nothing, Captain Mazanovitch,” said she softly; “the wound is not very dangerous, and—please God!—we will yet save your daughter’s life.”
His daughter! How much of the mystery that had puzzled me this simple word revealed!
Paola, still kneeling and covering his face with his hands, was sobbing10 like a child; 273Mazanovitch drew a long breath and allowed his lids to again droop11 slowly over his eyes; and then Lesba looked up and our eyes met.
“I am just in time, Robert,” she murmured happily, and bent12 over Valcour to hide the flush that dyed her sweet face.
I started, and looked around me. In the gathering13 twilight14 the forms of the slaughtered15 Uruguayans lay revealed where they had fallen, for not a single member of Dom Pedro’s band of mercenaries had escaped the vengeance16 of the patriots17.
Those of our rescuers who survived were standing in a little group near by, leaning upon their long rifles, awaiting further commands.
Among them I recognized Pedro, and beckoning18 him to follow me I returned to the house and lifted a door from its hinges. Between us we bore it to the yard and very gently placed Valcour’s slight form upon the improvised19 stretcher.
She moaned at the movement, slowly unclosing her eyes. It was Paola’s face that bent over her and Paola that pressed her 274hand; so she smiled and closed her eyes again, like a tired child.
We carried her into the little chamber20 from whence Lesba had escaped, for in the outer room lay side by side the silent forms of the martyrs21 of the Republic.
Tenderly placing Valcour upon the couch, Pedro and I withdrew and closed the door behind us.
I had started to pass through the outer room into the yard when an exclamation22 from the station-master arrested me. Turning back I found that Pedro had knelt beside Dom Miguel and with broken sobs23 was pressing the master’s hand passionately24 to his lips. My own heart was heavy with sorrow as I leaned over the outstretched form of our beloved chief for a last look into his still face.
Even as I did so my pulse gave a bound of joy. The heavy eyelids25 trembled—ever so slightly—the chest expanded in a gentle sigh, and slowly—oh, so slowly!—the eyes of Dom Miguel unclosed and gazed upon us with their accustomed sweetness and intelligence.
275“Master! Master!” cried Pedro, bending over with trembling eagerness, “it is done! It is done, my master! The Revolution is accomplished—Fonseca is supreme26 in Rio—the army is ours! The country is ours! God bless the Republic of Brazil!”
My own heart swelled27 at the glad tidings, now heard for the first time. But over the face of the martyred chief swept an expression of joy so ecstatic—so like a dream of heaven fulfilled—that we scarcely breathed as we watched the light grow radiant in his eyes and linger there while an ashen28 pallor succeeded the flush upon his cheeks.
Painfully Dom Miguel reached out his arms to us, and Pedro and I each clasped a hand within our own.
“I am glad,” he whispered, softly. “Glad and content. God bless the Republic of Brazil!”
The head fell back; the light faded from his eyes and left them glazed29 and staring; a tremor30 passed through his body, communicating its agony even to us who held his hands, as by an electric current.
Pedro still kneeled and sobbed31, but I 276contented myself with pressing the hand and laying it gently upon Dom Miguel’s breast.
Truly it was done, and well done. In Rio they were cheering the Republic, while here in this isolated32 cottage, surrounded by the only carnage the Revolution had involved, lay stilled forever that great heart which had given to its native land the birthright of Liberty.
Lesba had dressed Valcour’s wound with surprising skill, and throughout the long, dreary33 night she bathed the girl’s hot forehead and nursed her as tenderly as a sister might, while Paola sat silently by and watched her every movement.
In the early morning Pedro summoned us to breakfast, which he had himself prepared; and, as Valcour was sleeping, Lesba and Mazanovitch joined me at the table while Paola still kept ward34 in the wounded girl’s chamber.
The patriots were digging a trench35 in which to inter8 the dead Uruguayans, and I stood in the doorway36 a moment and 277watched them, drinking in at the same time the cool morning air.
There Lesba joined me, somewhat pale from her night’s watching, and although as yet no word of explanation had passed between us, she knew that I no longer doubted her loyalty37, and forbore to blame me for my stupidity in not comprehending that her every action had been for the welfare of the Cause.
At breakfast Pedro told us more of the wonderful news; how the Revolution had succeeded in Rio with practically no bloodshed or resistance; how Fonseca had met the Emperor at the train on his arrival and escorted him, well guarded, to the port, where he was put on board a ship that sailed at once for Lisbon. Indeed, that was to be the last of Dom Pedro’s rule, for the populace immediately proclaimed Fonseca dictator, and the patriots’ dream of a Republic of Brazil had become an established fact.
Presently we passed into the outer room and looked upon the still form of Miguel de Pintra, the man to whose genius the new Republic owed its success—the great 278leader who had miserably38 perished on the very eve of his noble achievement.
The conspiracy39 was a conspiracy no longer; it had attained40 to the dignity of a masterly Revolution, and the Cause of Freedom had once more prevailed!
Taking Lesba’s hand we passed the bodies of Bastro and Captain de Souza and gained the yard, walking slowly along the road that skirted the forest, while she told me how Valcour had assisted her to escape from the chamber, that she might summon the patriots to effect our rescue. She had wandered long in the forest, she explained, before Pedro met her and assisted her to gather the band that had saved us. Yet the brave girl’s grief was intense that she had not arrived in time to rescue her guardian41, Dom Miguel, whom she so dearly loved.
“Yet I think, Robert,” said she, with tearful eyes, “that uncle would have died willingly had he known the Republic was assured.”
“He did know it,” said I. “For a moment, last evening, he recovered consciousness. 279It was but a moment, but long enough for Pedro to tell him the glorious news of victory. And he died content, Lesba, although I know how happy it would have made him to live to see the triumph of the new Republic. His compatriots would also have taken great pride in honoring Dom Miguel above all men for his faithful service.”
She made no reply to this, and for a time we walked on in gloomy silence.
“Tell me, Lesba, have you long had knowledge of Valcour’s real identity?”
“Francisco told me the truth months ago, and that he loved her,” she replied. “But Valcour was sworn to the Emperor’s service, and would not listen to my brother as long as she suspected him of being in league with the Republicans. So they schemed and struggled against one another for the supremacy42, while each admired the other’s talents, and doubtless longed for the warfare43 to cease.”
“And how came this girl to be the Emperor’s spy, masquerading under the guise44 of a man?” I inquired.
280“She is the daughter of Captain Mazanovitch, who, when her mother died, took delight in instructing his child in all the arts known to the detective police. As she grew up she became of great service to her father, being often employed upon missions of extreme delicacy45 and even danger. Mazanovitch used to boast that she was a better detective than himself, and the Emperor became attached to the girl and made her his confidential46 body-guard, sending her at times upon important secret missions connected with the government. When Mazanovitch was won over to the Republican conspiracy his daughter, whose real name is Carlotta, refused to desert the Emperor, and from that time on treated her father as a traitor47, and opposed her wit to his own on every occasion. The male attire48 she wore both for convenience and as a disguise; but I have learned to know Valcour well, and have found her exceedingly sweet and womanly, despite her professional calling.”
It was all simple enough, once one had the clew; yet so extraordinary was the story that it aroused my wonder. In no other 281country than half-civilized Brazil, I reflected, could such a drama have been enacted49.
When we returned to the house we passed the window of Valcour’s room and paused to look through the open sash.
The girl was awake and apparently50 much better, for she smiled brightly into the face Paola bent over her, and showed no resentment51 when he stooped to kiss her lips.
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1
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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6
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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7
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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10
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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15
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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18
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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23
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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27
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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28
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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30
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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31
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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32
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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34
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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35
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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37
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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38
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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39
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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40
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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41
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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42
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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43
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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44
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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45
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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46
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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47
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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48
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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49
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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51
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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