Read Online The Pearl of Lima / A Story of True Love by Jules Verne - Free Book Online
Authors: Jules Verne
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and followed her to the dwelling of the marquis.
The Spaniard entered by a secret door, of which he alone had the key; so that his domestics suspected nothing. Martin Paz carried the young girl in his arms and laid her on a bed.
When Don Vegal, who had returned to re-enter by the principal door, reached the chamber where Sarah was reposing, he found Martin Paz kneeling beside her. The marquis was about to reproach the Indian with his conduct, when the latter said to him:
"You see, my father, whether I love you! Ah! why did you throw yourself in my way? We should have been already free in our mountains. But how, should I not have obeyed your words?"
Don Vegal knew not what to reply, his heart was seized with a powerful emotion. He felt how much he was beloved by Martin Paz.
"The day on which Sarah shall quit your dwelling to be restored to her father and her betrothed," sighed the Indian, "you will have a son and a friend less in the world."
As he said these last words, Paz moistened with his tears the hand of Don Vegal. They were the first tears this man had shed!
The reproaches of Don Vegal died away before this respectful submission. The young girl had become his guest; she was sacred! He could not help admiring Sarah, still in a swoon; he was prepared to love her, of whose conversion he had been a witness, and whom he would have been pleased to bestow as a companion upon the young Indian.
It was then that, on opening her eyes, Sarah found herself in the presence of a stranger.
"Where am I?" said she, with a sentiment of terror.
"With a generous man who has permitted me to call him my father," replied Martin Paz, pointing to the Spaniard.
The young girl, restored by the voice of the Indian to a consciousness of her position, covered her face with her trembling hands, and began to sob.
"Withdraw, friend," said Don Vegal to the young man; "withdraw."
Martin Paz slowly left the room, not without having pressed the hand of the Spaniard, and cast on Sarah a lingering look.
Then Don Vegal bestowed upon this poor child consolations of exquisite delicacy; he conveyed in suitable language his sentiments of nobility and honor. Attentive and resigned, the young girl comprehended what danger she had escaped; and she confided her future happiness to the care of the Spaniard. But amid phrases interrupted by sighs and mingled with tears, Don Vegal perceived the intense attachment of this simple heart for him whom she called her deliverer. He induced Sarah to take some repose, and watched over her with the solicitude of a father.
Martin Paz comprehended the duties that honor required of him, and, in spite of perils and dangers, would not pass the night beneath the roof of Don Vegal.
He therefore went out; his head was burning, his blood was boiling with fever in his veins.
He had not gone a hundred paces in the street, when five or six men threw themselves upon him, and, notwithstanding his obstinate defense, succeeded in binding him. Martin Paz uttered a cry of despair, which was lost in the night. He believed himself in the power of his enemies, and gave a last thought to the young girl.
A short time afterward the Indian was deposited in a room. The bandage which had covered his eyes was taken off. He looked around him, and saw himself in the lower hall of that tavern where his brethren had organized their approaching revolt.
The Sambo, Manangani, and others, surrounded him. A gleam of indignation flashed from his eyes, which was reciprocated by his captors.
"My son had then no pity on my tears," said the Sambo, "since he suffered me for so long a time to believe in his death?"
"Is it on the eve before a revolt that Martin Paz, our chief, should be found in the camp of our enemies?"
Martin Paz replied neither to his father, nor to Manangani.
"So our most important interests have been sacrificed to a woman!"
As he spoke thus, Manangani had approached Martin Paz; a poignard was gleaming in his hand. Martin Paz did
The Spaniard entered by a secret door, of which he alone had the key; so that his domestics suspected nothing. Martin Paz carried the young girl in his arms and laid her on a bed.
When Don Vegal, who had returned to re-enter by the principal door, reached the chamber where Sarah was reposing, he found Martin Paz kneeling beside her. The marquis was about to reproach the Indian with his conduct, when the latter said to him:
"You see, my father, whether I love you! Ah! why did you throw yourself in my way? We should have been already free in our mountains. But how, should I not have obeyed your words?"
Don Vegal knew not what to reply, his heart was seized with a powerful emotion. He felt how much he was beloved by Martin Paz.
"The day on which Sarah shall quit your dwelling to be restored to her father and her betrothed," sighed the Indian, "you will have a son and a friend less in the world."
As he said these last words, Paz moistened with his tears the hand of Don Vegal. They were the first tears this man had shed!
The reproaches of Don Vegal died away before this respectful submission. The young girl had become his guest; she was sacred! He could not help admiring Sarah, still in a swoon; he was prepared to love her, of whose conversion he had been a witness, and whom he would have been pleased to bestow as a companion upon the young Indian.
It was then that, on opening her eyes, Sarah found herself in the presence of a stranger.
"Where am I?" said she, with a sentiment of terror.
"With a generous man who has permitted me to call him my father," replied Martin Paz, pointing to the Spaniard.
The young girl, restored by the voice of the Indian to a consciousness of her position, covered her face with her trembling hands, and began to sob.
"Withdraw, friend," said Don Vegal to the young man; "withdraw."
Martin Paz slowly left the room, not without having pressed the hand of the Spaniard, and cast on Sarah a lingering look.
Then Don Vegal bestowed upon this poor child consolations of exquisite delicacy; he conveyed in suitable language his sentiments of nobility and honor. Attentive and resigned, the young girl comprehended what danger she had escaped; and she confided her future happiness to the care of the Spaniard. But amid phrases interrupted by sighs and mingled with tears, Don Vegal perceived the intense attachment of this simple heart for him whom she called her deliverer. He induced Sarah to take some repose, and watched over her with the solicitude of a father.
Martin Paz comprehended the duties that honor required of him, and, in spite of perils and dangers, would not pass the night beneath the roof of Don Vegal.
He therefore went out; his head was burning, his blood was boiling with fever in his veins.
He had not gone a hundred paces in the street, when five or six men threw themselves upon him, and, notwithstanding his obstinate defense, succeeded in binding him. Martin Paz uttered a cry of despair, which was lost in the night. He believed himself in the power of his enemies, and gave a last thought to the young girl.
A short time afterward the Indian was deposited in a room. The bandage which had covered his eyes was taken off. He looked around him, and saw himself in the lower hall of that tavern where his brethren had organized their approaching revolt.
The Sambo, Manangani, and others, surrounded him. A gleam of indignation flashed from his eyes, which was reciprocated by his captors.
"My son had then no pity on my tears," said the Sambo, "since he suffered me for so long a time to believe in his death?"
"Is it on the eve before a revolt that Martin Paz, our chief, should be found in the camp of our enemies?"
Martin Paz replied neither to his father, nor to Manangani.
"So our most important interests have been sacrificed to a woman!"
As he spoke thus, Manangani had approached Martin Paz; a poignard was gleaming in his hand. Martin Paz did
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