"A pretty time to come! Among so many, so many people," said
Mariquilla, weeping, "not one lifted a hand to help him. I nearly died
of fright, seeing him in such danger. I looked anxiously into the
street, and there was no one but enemies, no one; not one kind hand or
voice among all those men! One of them, more cruel than all, knocked
my father down. Oh, oh, remembering this, I scarcely know what happened
next! When I saw it, my fright paralyzed me for a few moments. Until
then I never knew what violent anger was, how a sudden impulse, an
inward fire, could drive me on. I came to him. My poor father was lying
on the ground, and the wretch was trampling upon him as if he were a
venomous reptile. When I saw that, I felt my blood boil in my veins. As
I have told you, I ran about the house, looking for a weapon, a knife,
an axe, anything. When I heard the cries of my father, I flew down.
Finding myself among so many men, I felt a strange, uncontrollable
timidity, and could not stir a step. The same man who had kicked him
handed me a fistful of gold. I did not want to take it, but I did; then
I threw all the coins into his face, with all my strength. My hand was
as if filled with thunderbolts, and I felt as if I were avenging my
father, hurling them at that villain. I went out afterwards, looking
everywhere for you; but I could not see you. I found my father alone in
that inhuman crowd, down in the mud, begging for mercy."
"Oh, Mariquilla, Mariquilla of my heart!" cried Augustine in anguish,
kissing the hands of the unhappy daughter of the miser. "Don't talk
any more about all that. You tear my soul in two! I could not defend
him. I--I had to go. I believed the crowd was after something--else.
You are right. But let us talk no more of this which grieves me so, and
gives me such bitter pain."
"If you had come to the defence of my father, he would have felt
gratitude towards you. From gratitude one passes readily to affection.
You would have been received openly in the house."
"Your father is incapable of affection for any one," replied Montoria.
"Do not hope that we can accomplish anything in that way. Let us
trust that we may arrive at the fulfilment of our desires by hidden
ways, perhaps by the help of God when it least seems likely. Let us
not depend upon aught else, or think of what is before us. We are
surrounded by dangers and obstacles that seem unsurmountable. Let us
hope for help from the unseen, and filled by faith in God and the power
of our love, let us wait for the miracle which will unite us. For it
will be a miracle, Mariquilla, a wonder like those they tell of in
olden times, that we refuse to believe."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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