; 
 
 Oklahoma Baptist University Library 
 
 Personal library of Dr. J. W. Gillon, 
 
 pastor of 
 First Baptist Church, Shawnee, 1926-1931 
 
- 
 

 University of California Berkeley 
 
4 
 
 
 MERCEDES 
 
MERCEDES, 
 
 A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 PROPERTY 
 
 OKLAHOMA BAPTIST UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BY SARAH HALE. 
 
 LOUISVILLE, KY. 
 
 BAPTIST BOOK CONCERN. 
 
 1895. 
 
Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1895, by 
 
 SARAH HALE, 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 JZlectr'i/i/pe,tl In/ 
 ROBERT RO WELL, 
 
 . A'//. 
 
. 
 TO MY FATHER, 
 
 WITH LOVING RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 OF MY MOTHER, 
 
 THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 THE recollection of my own ignorance before I came to 
 Mexico, of its social and religious condition, and the 
 astonishment I have often felt since at the incorrect state- 
 ments made in newspapers published in the United States, 
 have induced me to write this story. I have attempted to 
 represent the every-day life of the people as I have seen it 
 during a residence here of six years. 
 
 A great many of tlie incidents related have come under my 
 own observation; as, for instance, the conversation about the 
 painter, Senor Ramon Sagredo, the courting scene in which 
 Teodoro's parents figure, and the conversation between them 
 in the street a year afterward; others were related to me by 
 friends, so that I know them to be true; the crimping of the 
 Virgin's hair is one of these. I have described journeys and 
 places and landscapes and public events, such as the opening 
 of Congress and the burning of Judas, just as I have seen 
 them myself. The story of Dona Benigna's conversion is 
 told just as she herself told it to me; the same is true of 
 Dona Susana's. In Mercedes' conversion, also, ' ; I tell the 
 tale as 'twas told to me." All the language used by Teodoro 
 on pages 306 and 307 is faithfully translated from conversa- 
 tions which took place between myself and one of our Mexi- 
 can ministers at my dining table not long ago, when he was 
 conducting a series of meetings in our church. In fact. I 
 have hesitated to mention any one thing as the report of an 
 eyewitness lest I might seem to exclude others, for really the 
 book might almost be said to be made up of true incidents 
 strung on a slender thread of a story. 
 
 ~ After the manuscript of the book was finished I learned 
 <^j some additional facts about the Ladies' Church Society, one 
 N of which I wish to mention: on certain days in the week they 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 visit the poor and the sick, being driven to their houses in 
 their carriages if possible; if the carriages cannot go to the 
 houses by reason of the narrowness or unevenness of the 
 alleys in which the poor live, they are driven as far as the 
 vehicles can go, then walk the remainder of the way. They 
 supply them -with bedding, clothing, food, and medicines. 
 Of course we know the teachings of the Roman Catholic 
 Church about the reward for such "good works"; neverthe- 
 less I could not help heartily echoing the sentiment expressed 
 by one of our Mexican ministers when I related to him these 
 facts: "If they are so good as Catholics, what would they 
 not be if they knew the gospel!" 
 
 Friends of the United States who are sending the gospel 
 to Mexico, your labor of love is bestowed on an intelligent, 
 generous, warm-hearted, high-spirited, liberty-loving people. 
 
 I wish to express my gratitude to the friends, both Mexi- 
 can and American, who, at my request, have kindly read the 
 manuscript of this story and given me their opinion of it as a 
 representation of life in Mexico. 
 
 If this simple story should inspire any of the people of my 
 native land with greater zeal in the work of giving the Word 
 of God to the inhabitants of Mexico, I shall have my reward. 
 
 SARAH HALE. 
 GUADALAJARA, MEXICO, 
 
 November 27, 1894. 
 
MERCEDES, 
 
 A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 OUR LADY OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 IT was an afternoon in July, about seven years ago, in the 
 town of Salta, in the northern part of Mexico. The 
 whole country wore a parched and thirsty appearance, for 
 the rains had been delayed. There was much suffering 
 among the poor in all parts of the country. In this town 
 there was not so much as in most other places, for a supply 
 of crystal water was brought from the mountains now, as all 
 the year, for the use of the people, and to irrigate the gar- 
 dens and orchards in the town and the country around it. 
 
 A sort of awing mystery always seemed to me to hang 
 around the sources of this water, these "eyes of water," as 
 the people call them, away off in the Sierra Madre, some- 
 thing like that which, for the ancients, hung over the springs 
 of the Nile. But whether it came^ from the silent store houses 
 of the earth, from a river, or from a lake "a picture of silver 
 in a frame of emerald" nestled in the bare, rugged mountain 
 like the memory of mother and childhood in the heart of 
 hardened age here it was, the rushing, dancing, laughing, 
 life-giving water. Along the side of the town nearest to the 
 mountains it ran, in the channel provided for it. From this, 
 smaller channels were opened to convey the water to the 
 small gardens and orchards in the city and to the fields be- 
 yond. The people who lived in the unsightly adobe houses 
 on either side of the principal stream were said to live on the 
 Orilla del Agua (Oreya del Awa), the Border of the Water. 
 
8 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 But notwithstanding the fact that these eyes of water did 
 not seem to be affected by the long drought, there was much 
 sighing for rain in Salta. The vegetation was parched; the 
 figs, grapes, tunas, peaches, pears, and pomegranates were 
 not so abundant as in former years, neither were they so 
 large and sweet. The low shrubs on the mountains, their 
 only vegetation, were not so green as usual. 
 
 So deeply was felt the need for rain in all parts of the 
 Republic that the Catholics had, through one of the daily 
 papers of that faith published in the City of Mexico, besought 
 their Illustrious Prelate, the Archbishop, to order u that 
 the prayers of the faithful, directed by His priests, should 
 be addressed with one accord to the Almighty to appease 
 divine justice if such should be his holy will." 
 
 ' 'In other times," continues the writer, "and with the Chris- 
 tian faith which characterizes the Mexican people, and which 
 fortunately we still possess, we have had recourse in similar 
 calamities to Our Most Holy Mother, the Virgin Mary, in 
 her sanctuaries of Guadalupe and of los Remedies. 
 
 "The images of the noble Lady are in her sanctuaries 
 waiting to hear our public and fervent petitions." 
 
 We learn from the same paper that being thus urged "the 
 Illustrious Senor Archbishop of Mexico, in order to obtain 
 from heaven a remedy for the necessities that were afflicting 
 in so great a degree the inhabitants of the capital and of the 
 whole nation on account of the want of rain, ordered that in 
 the Cathedral, the Colegiata, 'the Profesa, and the Paroquias of 
 that city a three days' service should be held. The first day 
 was to be dedicated to the sacred heart of Jesus; the second, 
 to Our Lady of Guadalupe; the third, to the Holy Guardian 
 Angel of the Mexican nation. 
 
 * 'With regard to the foreign parishes, his Eminence, taking 
 into account the few resources at their command, abstained 
 from ordering this three days' service, but he desired that 
 the Sefiores Pastores, together with their congregations, 
 should do what they well could to implore the mercies of 
 God, our Lord." 
 
OUR LADY OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 Moved by this request of the Archbishop the people of 
 Salta, the Sunday before our story begins, had sought to 
 secure the intercession of the Virgin of St. John. This image 
 belonged to a wealthy family who resided in the town. They 
 owned an Hacienda, that is, an immense farm with a hand- 
 some house on it, about three miles from town. In the 
 chapel in the yard of this house the Virgin spent the greater 
 part of the year. It had become customary in times of 
 drouth to bring her in and place her in the principal church 
 of the town that prayers for rain might be addressed to her. 
 
 Accordingly this very religious family had sent out their 
 elegant carriage, drawn by a splendid span of sorrel horses, 
 to bring in the image. They were accompanied by many of 
 the common people, some on shabby horses, and hundreds on 
 foot. A fat, dark-faced priest, clad in sacerdotal robes, 
 seated himself in the carriage and took Our Lady in his lap. 
 She, or it, is an image about a foot high. Her dress is much 
 adorned with gold or gilt, probably the latter. How it came 
 to be believed that the bringing in of this image had any in- 
 fluence in securing rain I am not informed. I suppose that 
 in some time of drouth the people resorted to one after 
 another of their "saints," and in turn to this one; rain was 
 given soon after, so they concluded that it was through her 
 influence. 
 
 I do not know either why she is called the Virgin of St. 
 John; but it is probable that she appeared miraculously 
 (through the assistance of the Holy Fathers) in some place 
 that is called St. John. There are so many virgins they 
 must be distinguished in some way. In Mexico alone there 
 are the Virgin of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Solitude, Our Lady 
 of Mercy, Our Lady of Lourdes, and a multitude of others. An 
 educated Catholic would explain to you that they all repre- 
 sent the same person, the mother of our Lord, each one com- 
 memorating some phase of her character or^of her real or 
 traditional life. 
 
 It would be gross enough idolatry to worship the mother 
 of the Lord; but that the people worship the images them- 
 
10 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 selves, just as pagans in oriental countries worship their 
 idols, is proved by the fact that, though they all represent 
 the same person, the Virgin Mary, nevertheless it is believed 
 that more miracles are wrought by some images of her than 
 by others. The same is true of the images of all the saints. 
 The people will say frankly that they worship the images 
 unless the questions that are put to them on the subject 
 remind them of the absurdity of such a practice. 
 
 On the way to the town a dozen men, dressed in grotesque 
 costumes, danced in front of the carriage. The Spanish 
 priests, when they reached this country three centuries ago, 
 saw before them the task of changing the religion of a whole 
 people. For the accomplishment of that purpose there were 
 armies of Spanish soldiers whose cruelty seems incredible, 
 and the ' 'Holy Inquisition" with all the instruments of torture 
 that Satan himself could devise; they added to these yet 
 another means, a more merciful one, and one which the 
 "unchangeable Church" had no scruples about using: they 
 combined Romanism with the paganism of the Indians, and 
 thus the war- dances of the aborigines became a part of the 
 worship of the Holy Apostolic Roman Catholic Church in 
 Mexico. 
 
 In the suburbs of the town the procession 1 was met by 
 other hundreds of the common people, with now and then a 
 well-dressed woman among them . They unhitched the horses 
 from the carriage, tied two long ropes to the axle, and as 
 many of them as could conveniently seized the ropes and 
 drew the carriage through the town to the church. There 
 Our Lady was deposited with all due solemnity. 
 
 Three days had passed and still it had not rained; but 
 these good Catholics were in no danger of losing faith in 
 their saint. They complacently quoted their proverb, "What 
 God does not will the saints cannot do," without a thought 
 of appealing to^him who ' 'sends his rain on the evil and on 
 the good." 
 
 *Nota. Religious processions and, in short, all religious ceremonies 
 in the open air are forbidden by the law in Mexico, but in many towns 
 they are still tolerated. 
 
SALTA. 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 SALTA. 
 
 THIS town is, as I have said, in the northern part of 
 Mexico. If the curious reader should desire more accu- 
 rate information about its situation I must recommend him, 
 as a Spanish writer might do, to consult the "moral map" 
 of Mexico, as it is not probable he will find it on any other. 
 But he can find a number of others that will answer very 
 well to the description. 
 
 Looking down the street in one of these small towns, 
 towns of about twelve thousand inhabitants, one sees two 
 unbroken lines of walls plastered and whitewashed or painted 
 yellow, green or blue. One house is distinguished from an- 
 other by a difference of a foot or two in the height of the 
 walls or by its color. Occasionally are seen fantastically 
 painted houses reminding one of bright spring calicoes and 
 ginghams, and more rarely there is one of *a rich, handsome 
 brown color. They are nearly all of one story. The dwell- 
 ing-houses are built around one or two courts, and often 
 have gardens at the back, inclosed by a wall ten or twelve 
 feet in height, continued from the wall of the house. 
 
 The stables are at the back of the second court, so that 
 the horses and cows are always said, and truthfully, to be in 
 the house; but they are as far removed from the family as 
 could be desired. Around the second court are the kitchen 
 and the rooms for servants. There are no front yards; what- 
 ever of flowers and shrubbery they have are in the first court. 
 
 Mexicans are not prodigal of windows. In the better class 
 of houses there are usually two large windows in each of the 
 two front rooms. They have vertical iron or wooden bars 
 over them; in the large cities these are often substituted by 
 an ornamental iron railing about three feet high at the bot- 
 tom of the windows. The rooms which open on the courts 
 
12 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 often receive all their light from the folding doors, but some- 
 times each large room has a window. 
 
 Passing along the street one sees sometimes elegantly 
 draped windows and handsomely furnished rooms, and hears 
 the soft, rich notes of a piano, and sees groups of well- 
 dressed ladies and gentlemen in conversation; or he sees 
 through the great front doors a court full of flowers and 
 vines, the greenness contrasting with the white pillars of 
 the corridor which runs around the court. 
 
 The streets are favored with such names as "The Reform,'' 
 "The Holy Spirit," "St. Domingo," among others of a pa- 
 triotic origin. The stores of various kinds bear such fanci- 
 ful names as "The Doves," "The Pretty Blue," "The 
 Fountain," "Concord," " The High Waves, "" The Future, " 
 "The City of London," "The Trojan Horse." Sometimes 
 the suggestive names of "The Delights," " The Current of 
 Life," "The Little Hell" are seen over saloon doors. 
 
 The scenes in the streets are curious enough to a foreigner. 
 Here come some immense bundles of green cornstalks or hay 
 wriggling and bumping along the street; presently one dis- 
 covers four little donkey legs under each and he knows that 
 the patient little animal's body is buried in the bundle. 
 Women sit, scorning chairs or stools, on the sidewalk with 
 their fruits spread out before them; a little farther on are 
 children gambling with pennies. Here go rumbling ox wag- 
 ons, each with two thick wooden wheels whose diameter is 
 equal to the height of the driver. These drivers wear wide 
 white pantaloons and tall, bell-crowned, broad-brimmed straw 
 hats, sandals, and often, even in this warm weather, red 
 woolen blankets. Often the clothing of the men of the com- 
 mon class is conspicuously parti- colored. Here are beggars 
 crossing themselves on the forehea'd, lips and breast, accord- 
 ing to the directions of the Church, and importuning the pass- 
 ers-by, in the most studied whines, ' ' By the sacred passion 
 of Christ, and for the love of God and His Most Holy Mother, 
 to succor them with a blessed charity." Now and then a 
 handsome carriage dashes by, and well-dressed gentlemen 
 
SALTA. 13 
 
 and ladies, the latter always bareheaded, pass one on the 
 sidewalk. So much for the better part of town. 
 
 Often the houses of the poor, like these on the Orilla del 
 Agua, for instance, have no windows even in the front rooms. 
 When they have them they are small and covered with un- 
 painted wooden railings. Many of the houses are not plas- 
 tered on the outside, but instead of the plaster and soiled 
 whitewash, display the bare adobes. But not for this ugli- 
 ness does impartial Apollo neglect this quarter of town; 
 there is the same glare of white sunlight on streets and walls. 
 
 Salta has a history which is probably not very unlike that 
 of most other Mexican towns. The story goes that about 
 three hundred years ago a Spanish captain, accompanied by 
 some Indian families arid a Jesuit priest, coming from Sal- 
 tillo, found their way through the intervening deserts and 
 wildernesses to this place, and nattering the Indians whom 
 they found here with the promise of protection from their 
 enemies, secured their co-operation and founded this town. 
 
 Soon after this, as we learn from the "Notes for the 
 History of Coahuila and Texas," written by a Mexican gen- 
 tleman, who was probably himself a Jesuit, some Jesuit 
 priests, prompted by zeal ' * for the extension of Our Holy 
 Mother Church" and the "greater glory of God and His 
 Most Holy Mother, " came up from Guadalajara, and estab- 
 lished many missions in these states. In this town was one 
 of their most important missions. He speaks with enthusi- 
 asm of the self-denial and holiness of these ' ' eminent gen- 
 tlemen." 
 
 He says : ' 'The early religious teachers, possessed of the most 
 ardent faith, and courage which amounted to heroism, crossed 
 unknown deserts and immense forests, leaning on rough 
 staffs which they improvised from shrubs, or the branches 
 of trees, barefooted and covered with coarse sackcloth; rest- 
 ing in their pilgrimages, now in the caves of the forests, now 
 in ravines or swamps, reclining sometimes their fatigued 
 heads on the hard rocks. The gentleness and resignation of 
 those eminent gentlemen, in facing all kinds of dangers, suf- 
 
14 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ferings and hardships, overcame the ferocious instincts of 
 the savages. Men clothed -with so many virtues, without 
 fondness for riches or the luxuries of life, filled the barbari- 
 ans with astonishment and admiration; they drew near the 
 priest with respect and veneration. Not understanding at 
 first the dialect of the Indians, they spoke to them by means, 
 of signs, showing them the crucifix and the heavens, and in- 
 dicating to them that their mission was one of peace and 
 charity. When they had succeeded in acquiring some knowl- 
 edge of the native language, they began by making them 
 understand the existence of an infinite Being, the supreme 
 Author of the creation, and also the immortality of the soul. 
 They preached to them against their superstitions, their wan- 
 dering life, the shedding of human blood, and their immoral 
 customs. The religious teachers who came to Coahuila and 
 Texas treated the aborigines with a tenderness truly paternal, 
 defending them from the molestations and oppressions of 
 their conquerors." 
 
 So well did these savages ' ' advance in the knowledge of 
 the catechism " that it sometimes happened that ''within a 
 few days the priests had as many as five hundred Christians 
 in their company. " They received the Holy Father with em- 
 braces and kisses and hung on his neck; they sacrificed their 
 lives to defend him that is, if we are to take this historian's 
 word for the statement. 
 
 I take pleasure in laying before you this description of the 
 character and doings of these "illustrious gentlemen." The 
 Lord forbid that I should do them an injustice; judging from 
 their history in all nations they have enough to answer for 
 before God and man if the truth is told in its mildest form. 
 
 Here in Mexico they taught the doctrines of their order, 
 just as they teach them everywhere they are tolerated: That 
 it is right to steal, to lie, to murder, to commit any crime . 
 whatsoever if only the interests of the Church are to be 
 served by it; they introduced the inquisition; they subverted 
 the liberties of the people; they established monasteries and 
 convents all over the land; yea they went out like the very 
 spirits of the devil to deceive the nation. 
 
SALT A. 15 
 
 When Mexico awoke to the terrible state of things she in- 
 vestigated their deeds and their influence, and her Congress, 
 the Roman Catholic Congress of a Roman Catholic nation, 
 you will remember, for the purity of the people and the pro- 
 tection of the family, abolished monasteries and convents 
 and banished their founders from the realm. 
 
 "Why," said to me one day a gentleman who had lived 
 here a good many years, * * the passages run like a cobweb 
 under this town. Formerly there were openings to the top 
 of the ground for ventilation; around these openings were 
 little chimneys. But since the passages are no longer used 
 these have been thrown down and the holes are closed up. I 
 went down into a passage one day. They are only wide 
 enough for one man to walk in them, but every few yards 
 there is a niche large enough for a man to stand in, so that 
 if two of the Fathers met they could pass. They are full of 
 human bones now. " 
 
 'Bones! " I exclaimed, "Whose bones? " 
 
 "Oh! bones of Indians," so accustomed to the horrible 
 thoughts he was suggesting that they made little impression 
 on him. "You see if they did not believe what the Holy 
 Fathers taught them they just murdered them and put them 
 down there." One of these passages runs under the room 
 adjoining the one in which I write this afternoon. 
 
 We read in the history which I have mentioned that the 
 "Jesuit College" in this town "acquired rich possessions." 
 It is a way they have, these Roman Catholic institutions! 
 Notwithstanding the sublime meekness, resignation and self- 
 denial of their founders, notwithstanding, as in this case, the 
 half-clothed and unhoused savages by whom they were sur- 
 rounded, they seldom or never failed to'become very rich in 
 a short time. 
 
 This monastery, the College, as it is called, was confis- 
 cated to the state with all the other church property when 
 the monasteries and convents were abolished. When I first 
 visited it it was used as a tenement-house. On the right- 
 hand side of the hall as we entered was an arched recess 
 
16 i MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 large enough for three men to stand in it. It had recently 
 been discovered in the smoothly-plastered and whitewashed 
 wall. It was opened and the bones were taken out. A sim- 
 ilar recess has been discovered on the other side of the hall; 
 they had taken out the bricks, revealing the arch, but it still 
 held its secret. How many such secrets does the house hold! 
 We went to the door of the underground chambers from 
 which the passages start which run under all the town, but 
 it was locked. There were a great many bones in them, they 
 told me. Even on the surface of the ground there were 
 bones everywhere in the courts of that awful house. 
 
 Whatever mistakes may be made as to the history of this 
 monastery, the Jesuit Fathers who occupied it stand con- 
 demned in the court of posterity. People went to the Col- 
 lege to confess and were never seen nor heard of again. 
 Wild, fearful stories of death by fire and hanging and starva- 
 tion are commonly told and believed. O these holy Catholic 
 priests ! 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 
 
 IT was five o'clock in the afternoon of that July day, as 
 well as one could judge by the clock on the Jesuit College, 
 which, however, was not very reliable since, as the people 
 declared, it "ran with the wind." The siesta (an afternoon 
 nap) was over and the people were again passing to and fro 
 in the streets. From one of the houses on the Orilla del 
 Agua a woman and a girl came out, and drawing their faded 
 blue cotton scarfs closely over their heads and shoulders, 
 went off down the street. 
 
 The former wore a scanty, faded calico dress and very 
 shabby shoes; the latter a factory dress, also faded and 
 scanty and much worn, and shoes that rivaled the woman's 
 in shabbiness. Reaching the shade they threw back their 
 scarfs from their heads. The features, complexion and 
 straight black hair of the woman marked her as a pure In- 
 dian. She was deeply scarred with smallpox, and one of her 
 eyes had been put out by that dreadful disease. Her hair 
 was arranged in two short, scanty braids which were tied 
 together at the ends. Her face wore a complaining, ill- 
 natured expression that was evidently habitual to it. 
 
 The girl's features were more European in their type, in- 
 dicating the presence of some Spanish blood; it had come to 
 her from her mother's side of the house. Her complexion 
 was lighter than that of the woman; her hair was straight, 
 black and abundant; she wore it parted in the middle, combed 
 smoothly back and arranged in two long braids which hung 
 down her back. Her mouth was somewhat large and her 
 teeth white and regular. Her eyes were large, dark and 
 bright, with an expression which indicated intelligence and 
 vivacity; but sometimes they looked up at one with the hope- 
 less, unexpressed appeal of a dumb animal. She was not 
 
18 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 pretty nor handsome; yet a close observer would probably 
 reflect that ' ' some of these common people might amount to 
 something if they only had a chance." 
 
 Her name was Mercedes Gonzales y Robledo. But you 
 are not to suppose from this imposing array of names that 
 this girl in the faded cotton dress was a descendant of a no- 
 ble family, a princess in disguise, as it were. Mercedes was 
 the name her parents gave her; it meant "mercies;" but it 
 was bestowed on her with no thought of its sweet, quaint, 
 suggestive meaning, but merely because it was a common 
 and convenient name. Gonzales was the name of her father, 
 and Robledo was her mother's maiden name. 
 
 For example, my dear Miss Mary, your father is Mr. 
 Jones, and your mother was before her marriage, Miss 
 Smith; then if you lived in a Spanish -speaking country you 
 would be "Miss Mary Jones and Smith," or the Senorita 
 (Sanyoreta) Maria Jones y Smith. Then if you should marry 
 a Mr. Tompson, you would drop your mother's name but re- 
 tain your father's, so that you would be "the Sefiora (San- 
 yora) Maria Jones de (of) Tompson." You would very rarely 
 be called by your husband's name; only a dignified acquaint- 
 ance would allude to you as "the Senora de Tompson." 
 "Give up my father's name for a husband's ! Never!" ex- 
 claimed a Mexican young lady, looking up at me with her 
 great brown eyes full of astonishment. 
 
 Titles are much less used in Spanish-speaking countries 
 than in the United States. You would not be Miss Jones be- 
 fore your marriage, neither would you be Mrs. Tompson nor 
 the Sefiora Jones de Tompson after your marriage except in 
 writing and in the conversation of mere acquaintances; from 
 your cradle to your grave all your friends, including gentle- 
 men and tiny children would call you, notwithstanding your 
 connection with Mr. Tompson just Mary Jones. 
 
 If Mr. Tompson should die before you, you would drop his 
 name entirely except in legal documents and other papers of 
 importance, and for purposes of explanation, when you would 
 be mentioned as ' ' Mary Jones, widow of Don Tomas Tomp- 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 19 
 
 son." Your servants would call you "Dofia (Donya) Maria," 
 or "the Senora." You, in turn would give the title, Dofia, 
 to an elderly serving woman whom you wished to treat with 
 respect. The titles Don and Dona are used only before given 
 names; they do not, at present, as they did formerly in Spain, 
 indicate high rank. 
 
 Your father, who in the United States is known as Mr. 
 John Jones would be, supposing that his mother's maiden 
 name was Brown, Senor Juan Jones y Brown; but for con- 
 venience he would generally be called Senor Jones, or Don 
 Juan. 
 
 The name of the woman was Maria de los Angeles (Mary 
 of the Angels) de Guerrero de Urriegas. The de preceding 
 her maiden name seems to be more a matter of euphony than 
 anything else. The baptismal name, "Maria de los An- 
 geles, " was in its origin an overflow of religious feeling, after 
 the Catholic fashion. 
 
 In Mexico among the most common baptismal names are 
 Jesus, Trinidad (Trinity), Maria de Jesus, Alta Gracia (High 
 Grace), Jose-Maria (Joseph- Mary). 
 
 As they went along this favorite of the angels began to* 
 talk to the girl in her usual fault-finding tone: 
 
 "Come along! Why don't you walk faster? We shan't 
 get there before dark. I reckon you want to pretend that 
 you are tired from that walk on Sunday. That was nothing 
 for a girl of fourteen. I am thirty years older than that, and 
 I didn't mind it. " 
 
 Mercedes thought that she was a great deal stronger, too, 
 and that she had not worked so hard since, but she said 
 nothing, for she had learned by long experience that such 
 replies as she could make did no good. Maria de los An- 
 geles was not the only woman who ever forgot or wilfully 
 disregarded the fact that people are not necessarily strong 
 because they are young. 
 
 "O, you are the very skin of Judas! " she went on growing 
 bitterer. "You don't care anything for religion, nor for 
 anything good. Think of a girl of your age who has never 
 
20 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 confessed! You will never see purgatory! And your father 
 upholds you in all this wickedness; he'll get his reward. 
 How do you suppose I feel to think you didn't want to go 
 with me to the chapel to pray for my poor Mbrdicai? " and 
 her voice died away in a whimper. 
 
 "I didn't say anything about not wanting to go, aunt," 
 replied Mercedes, trying very hard to avoid a sullen tone. 
 
 "But I know you didn't. You never want to do anything 
 that is right. You only want to devour those worthless 
 books your father allows you to read. The Fathers say it is 
 best for such as you not to know how to read, and I believe 
 it." 
 
 " Of course you do since the priests say it," thought the 
 girl, trying to repress a smile, in which, however, there was 
 more of bitterness than of merriment These taunting allu- 
 sions to her books, accompanied, as they often were, by the 
 threat to burn them, were the hardest to bear of- all the un- 
 kind reproaches of her aunt. The books were Don Quixote, 
 the History of Mexico, and a Missal. These were the only 
 books she had ever had opportunity to read except Father 
 Ripalda's Catechism. The humorous and the poetical pass- 
 ages in Don Quixote were always a new delight to her; and 
 its fair ladies and gallant gentlemen were to her as familiar 
 friends. Her reading of the history of her country had de- 
 veloped in her the in tensest patriotism; it had prepared her 
 to act the part of Joan of Arc if the necessities of her native 
 land should ever call for such a heroine. 
 
 From these books she had learned her letters, with a little, 
 a very little assistance from her father. Some children learn 
 the alphabet from the Bible, standing by a mother's knee 
 and feeling the caressing touch of a mother's hand on their 
 heads, and seeing the mother-love in the face above them, 
 and the saint's anxiety that they may gain the true wisdom, 
 learn them beginning over there where the sweet, wonderful 
 story begins: "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of 
 Judea, in the days of Herod the king;" and it is not strange 
 that in the minds of such, through all the hot and dusty and 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 21 
 
 weary days of life-travel, that story, intertwined with the 
 weird fancies and indistinct recollections of childhood, rings 
 now near now far off, sweeter than any anthem, of angels, 
 sweeter even than the lullaby of a mother. 
 
 This girl had no such recollections. If her mother had 
 lived she would have taught her nothing of the Bible, of 
 course, for she was a Roman Catholic, and hence, knew 
 nothing of it. But she had died when her daughter was only 
 four or five years old. Mercedes always, clung to the belief 
 that she remembered her. Some homely, loving face had 
 bent over her in that dim, early time, some voice had spoken 
 tenderly to her; the face and voice must have been her 
 mother's. 
 
 Since that time she had known nothing of tenderness. Her 
 home had been with her father's step- sister, Maria de los 
 Angeles. In her early childhood, when she was permitted 
 to put down the heavy baby she must bring water, carrying 
 it in a heavy jar on her head. As she grew older nearly all 
 the work of the household fell on her; the cooking of the 
 frejoles (dried beans), the grinding of the corn for tortillas, 
 the washing of the clothing of the family in the stream I 
 have mentioned. 
 
 Notwithstanding all her efforts to please her elders, she 
 could not' remember ever having received a word of com- 
 mendation from them. It probably seemed to them that it 
 would make her indolent or presumptuous to be praised. 
 Her aunt was not wilfully unkind, but she was a coarse, stu- 
 pid, indolent woman, and she was placed in a position which 
 would be dangerous for many people with better principles 
 than her own with almost absolute power over a helpless 
 fellow-creature whom she did not love and could not under- 
 stand. The girl's incomprehensible taste for reading and 
 her lack of devotion for the Church made her aunt half be- 
 lieve sometimes, in the depths of her superstitious soul, that 
 she must be bewitched. Her father treated her with com- 
 parative kindness. She knew it was through fear of him 
 that her aunt dared not destroy the books. Once he said to 
 
 PROPERTY 
 
22 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 her suddenly: " You look like your mother, child," and then 
 turned away as if he were ashamed of betraying so much 
 emotion. Another time he noticed her with the missal in her 
 hand and he said, "Take good care of it; it was your moth- 
 er's.'' These two sayings of her father's she cherished, going 
 over them often as she lay on her pallet while the various 
 other occupants of the room were snoring. She generally 
 concluded by saying to herself, "I believe he does love me! " 
 And in return for this, having no one else to love, she loved 
 him with an almost worshipping devotion; but she dared not 
 express it. She saw other parents of her own class caress 
 their children, plan for them and try to educate them, and 
 she wondered often what were the feelings of such children. 
 She was very different from them, her aunt said, and Mer- 
 cedes believed it because her aunt said it, and because the 
 circumstances seemed to prove it. 
 
 The girls of her own age sometimes invited her to go with 
 them to the plaza (small park) to promenade and listen to the 
 music of the band on the evenings of national and church 
 celebrations. But though she longed with all the ardor of 
 youth to go, she seldom went. She had no holiday attire as 
 they had; they would be ashamed of her. 
 
 She felt this difference of dress between herself and others 
 with an inexpressible shrinking. She often wondered if she 
 would look as other girls -did if she were dressed as they, in 
 dainty, stiffly starched print dresses and black shawls. Her 
 imagination even soared higher than that, and she dared to 
 fancy herself clad in the lovely, soft garments and silken 
 scarfs in which she had seen the daughters of the rich, talk- 
 ing and laughing in low musical voices that sounded like the 
 chirping of birds, as they passed in elegant carriages. And 
 she wondered vaguely if she were so clad if there would still 
 be about her any mark or deformity of face or figure that 
 would publish the fact that she was a peculiar creature, sep- 
 arated from all the common sympathies of humanity. 
 
 Thus separated by unkindness or carelessness from those 
 to whom she might naturally have looked for affection, and 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 23 
 
 from others by her own sensitiveness, she was in danger of 
 becoming morbid. But fortunately there was in her compo- 
 sition some salt which preserved her from that. She was 
 naturally of a gay disposition, and she had a keen sense of 
 humor. No less keen was her appreciation of all the varied 
 forms of nature about her; the peaceful murmur of the water, 
 the songs of the birds, the beauty of the flowers, the pictur- 
 esqueness of the rugged mountains, the rosy or golden or 
 violet air which draped them of mornings and evenings, the 
 clouds of sunrise and sunset. But of all her pleasures that 
 half -stolen one of reading Don Quixote was the greatest. 
 
 By this time they had left behind them the narrow, dirty 
 streets and unsightly houses of the outskirts of the town and 
 were ascending the hill. These mountains among which the 
 town is nestled are outlying ranges of the Sierra Madre (th< 
 Mother Range), a continuation of the Rocky Mountains. 
 Their harsh outlines are softened by no vegetation except a 
 few dwarfed shrubs. The great porous rocks among which 
 their path lay stood up in all their bare picturesqueness. 
 
 They reached the top of this hill and walked perhaps a 
 quarter of a mile on its almost level summit to a small, cir- 
 cular and very steep hill which arose abruptly from this ele- 
 vated plane. On the top of this latter hill lay an immense 
 circular rock, extending out on all sides beyond the apex of 
 the hill. Perched on this rock was one of the "high places" 
 of the Roman Church, a tiny white chapel. It could be seen 
 for miles around, its outlines standing out sharply against 
 the blue sky. 
 
 Slowly and laboriously they ascended the hill, panting and 
 stopping now and then to rest. Sometimes Mercedes turned 
 her head for a moment when her aunt was not looking to 
 catch a glimpse of the town nestled among the green trees, 
 of the valley and the encircling mountains. 
 
 When they reached the foot of the rock they passed around 
 to the back of it and ascended the steps which had been 
 made through it to the top. This rock, and, in fact, all these 
 rocks and hills would be a worthy study for a geologist. 
 
24 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 The last four or five steps Maria de los Angeles ascended 
 on her knees; in the same manner she crossed the space be- 
 tween the top of the stairway and the door of the chapel, 
 Mercedes spreading on the rock in front of her the two nar- 
 row pieces of coarse matting which she had brought along 
 for that purpose. With difficulty she entered the chapel and 
 crawled to a large wooden cross which stood in the floor. 
 She remained kneeling in front of it weeping and counting 
 her beads and whispering her prayers. 
 
 The girl made the circuit of the tiny room kneeling me- 
 chanically for a moment in front of the cross and the image 
 of the Virgin, making the signs of the cross on forehead, lips 
 and breast. She glanced as she passed at the coarse and 
 ludicrous paintings given by those who had been healed of 
 various infirmities through the virtue which dwelt in the 
 Holy Wood, the cross before which her aunt knelt. 
 
 Most of these pictures represent the devotees crawling up 
 the hill toward the chapel with lighted candles in their hands; 
 in some of them the devotee is kneeling before the cross. 
 One of the inscriptions reads thus : 
 
 "Higinio Garcia having suffered nine months from a dis- 
 ease perhaps unknown without having a moment of rest nei- 
 ther by day nor by night with sincerity of heart implored 
 the holy Wood for mercy which was found for at the present 
 if he is not well he is very much relieved and he dedicates 
 this to it (the Holy Wood) for the justification of so great a 
 myracle." 
 
 Another: ''Jose-Maria Gerarda Gomes, i was seized by a 
 disease i imboqued the holy wood and i was healed and for 
 the greater beneration we dedicate this. Zenobio Zequndino. " 
 
 Another: "the nintH day of the month of August of 1888 a 
 horse thru the girl Benita Rodriguez breaking one of her 
 arms. I the mother of this girl full of grief imboqued the 
 holy wood asking for the relief of mi daughter and so it was 
 in seven months she was well and sound and this made me 
 with all my heart offur the present picture. Gabriela Rod- 
 rigues. " 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 25 
 
 The devotee before the cross had come to ask a similar 
 mercy. Her son, Mordicai, had fallen from the scaffolding 
 of a building, and though like any well instructed son of a 
 Catholic mother he had cried to the Blessed Virgin for help 
 she was not so propitious as in another case of the kind of 
 which I have heard. In that, in answer to the man's cry of 
 distress the Virgin held him in mid air till his companions 
 brought a ladder on which he descended. This time perhaps 
 the goddess was asleep or occupied with other matters; cer- 
 tain it is that Mordicai came down to the ground in a way 
 which demonstrated admirably the geometrical principle that 
 "a straight line is the shortest distance between two points;" 
 and the result was a broken leg. 
 
 This cross has a history. The story goes that the priests 
 when they came to establish a mission here, celebrated the 
 first mass on this rock. Some time after that the Holy Fa- 
 thers displayed to the people one morning a wooden cross 
 about four feet in height which, they said, had been brought 
 down from heaven the night before and placed on this rock. 
 It was found to possess miraculous properties. The original 
 cross decayed in a few years, but one night it disappeared 
 miraculously and a new cross, also from heaven, took its 
 place. This has happened several times in the course of the 
 three centuries which have elapsed. A few years ago this- 
 tiny chapel was built to protect it. It has become celebrated, 
 and the afflicted come now long distances to be healed by it. 
 There it stands, a plain wooden cross, painted green, ''at 
 the orders of your Worship," as a Mexican would assure you, 
 ready to heal you or yours of any infirmity. 
 
 Mercedes sat down on the low bench in the front of the 
 chapel and looked at it all for a while, but listlessly, for she 
 had seen it all before. Then she went out and sat on the' 
 low adobe wall which was built along the edge of the rock. 
 The scene was oriental, as travelers have told us. There lay 
 the town below her with its churches and low, flat-roofed 
 houses, looking like Jerusalem after its glory had departed. 
 One stately palm-tree standing alone waved its feathery foli- 
 age in the air. 
 
26 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 She swept her eyes around the purple encircling moun- 
 tains and over the town. They rested on the Jesuit College. 
 The sight of that building always started a train of thoughts 
 which tramped through her mind confused and troubled, like 
 dark specters. The stories she had heard of it had had their 
 faatural effect on her lively imagination, on her susceptible 
 spirit, nourished as it had been in gross superstition, brought 
 up, as it were, on histories of witches, and restless spirits 
 escaped from purgatory. 
 
 She had heard both sides of the story which I have told 
 you of the lives and teachings of the priests, and both from 
 persons whom all the loyalty of her nature compelled her to 
 believe; the one side from her aunt and from the priests in 
 the churches, the other from her father. She knew tha^ 
 what her father said about the wickedness of the Church and 
 of the priesthood was true, but, on the other hand, her mother 
 had been a devout Catholic. 
 
 Would that I could give you some idea of the confusion of 
 mind of a thoughtful person who has been thus brought up! 
 All her life long this girl had gone groping in the darkness, 
 seeking some one to lead her by the hand. Was it right, re- 
 ally right, to lie and steal when the interests of the Church 
 could be served by so doing? Was it right .to do evil that 
 good might come? Were miracles really wrought by these 
 wooden crosses and wooden images? Could they really, in 
 some mysterious way, hear prayers? Was it the real body 
 and blood of the Lord which the priests and people drank 
 and ate in the churches? What kind of Being was this Lord 
 whom they ate, and for whom they named their children? 
 And the Father, God, of whom they spoke so familiarly, was 
 he the Great Spirit who created all things? Under what ob- 
 ligations was she to believe all these things? She was not 
 responsible for the existence of such doctrines; she had 
 found them in the world when she arrived here. Why must 
 she have a religion at all? Was there, after all, any God, 
 even an indefinite Being sitting away off in the heavens and 
 taking no interest in the <- affairs of this world? Such a 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 27 
 
 i 
 
 thought, if thought it might be called, it was so indistinct, 
 frightened her; she sprang up and threw out her hands as if 
 to fling it from her. 
 
 In restless haste and without thinking of what she was do- 
 ing she unbraided her long, dark hair and threw it back over 
 .her shoulders. As she stood there with the wind plucking 
 at her hair, her hands clasped tightly, her lips compressed, 
 her shining eyes looking into space, her mind full of doubts 
 and questionings suggested by the false teachings of others, 
 her spirit palpitating with noble restlessness and longing for 
 something higher and better, she might well represent the 
 spirit of her country, this young republic that has suffered 
 so much from the selfishness and wickedness of others, this 
 nation which we behold struggling out of the darkness of 
 Roman Catholicism, stumbling and falling and rising again 
 in the road toward the realization of the high calling of na- 
 tions. 
 
 Do not say rashly that common sense should have taught 
 this girl what was right. Try to imagine how much you 
 would have known if you had inherited Romanism from one 
 side of your ancestry and paganism from the other. Remem- 
 ber how your errors in religious belief cling to you though 
 you live in a land of which it might almost be said that the 
 knowledge of the Lord covers it as the waters cover the sea. 
 
 Mercedes had never seen a Bible. Her case was not pe- 
 culiar in that respect. There are comparatively few persons 
 in Mexico who have ever seen it or have any distinct idea of 
 the contents of such a book. 
 
 Read this extract which I cut from a religious paper, a 
 part of a report of a speech made in a great religious conven- 
 tion in the United States by an American gentleman whose 
 home is in Mexico: 
 
 ' ' He alluded to the fact that it had been said by one 
 * preacher that our work in Mexico amounted simply to a 
 proselyting from one phase of Christianity to another. 
 
 Then he proceeded to give us an idea of how much Chris- 
 tianity these Mexican Catholics have. 
 
28 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 He said he went into a bookstore where a vast business is 
 done. Of course the booksellers are conversant with books, 
 necessarily acquainted with every book that is read by the 
 people, for the books must be bought before they are read. 
 He asked for a New Testament; none of the clerks knew 
 what it was. The proprietor came up, and he did not know, 
 but after searching around , brought an old dingy copy of the 
 Old Testament in Spanish and seemed to think, as it was 
 called ' old ' that it was an old edition of the book that was 
 asked for. The gentleman then took out of his satchel a 
 New Testament in Spanish and showed it to the bookseller, 
 who exclaimed, 'This is the New Testament! Well, I have 
 had calls for it, but I never knew what it was before.' Of 
 course he had had very few calls for it, for he would have 
 ascertained what it was if his trade had demanded it. 
 
 At another time he went into another bookstore and asked 
 for a New Testament. Failing to find it, he engaged in con- 
 versation with the bookseller in regard to the matter. The 
 latter, resting his arm on the counter, leaned over and looked 
 very earnestly into his face and said with much interest: 
 'Who is the author of this New Testament?'" 
 
 Others have had similar experiences. After reading such 
 things as this can any one believe that Mexico is a Christian 
 land? 
 
 Mercedes, however, had once read an extract from that 
 mysterious book. A woman with a plain, kind face stopped 
 her one day in the street and requested her to direct her to a 
 certain house. When she thanked her for the information 
 she gave her an advertisement card on which was a bright 
 picture, telling her that the reading on the reverse side was 
 an extract from the Sacred Scriptures. 
 
 It was that marvelous piece of word painting, the descrip- 
 tion of the Last Judgment, given in the twenty-fifth chapter 
 of Matthew. So deep was the impression made on her mind 
 that for weeks she seldom fell asleep without dreaming that 
 she stood before the throne waiting with terror to hear her 
 sentence. And she was always sent to the left-hand side. 
 
AT THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY WOOD. 29 
 
 Her imagination supplied all the details, the joy of the 
 blessed, the anguish and despair of the accursed. It was a 
 terrible strain on her childish mind. It was not in her power 
 to do any of those good works by which, as it seemed to her, 
 Heaven was to be bought. Besides, she had a depressing 
 feeling that nothing she could do would be acceptable to 
 God. As the months went by these impressions faded away; 
 for more than a year they had troubled her only occasionally, 
 but when they returned they always brougnt with them a 
 vague feeling of unrest and of helpless terror. 
 
 Her contemptuous smile at her aunt's confidence in the 
 priests had brought back this feeling of unrest. * ' It was 
 very wicked of her to entertain a disrespectful thought of 
 her religious teachers," she reflected. "Even if they did do 
 things that in others would be great sins, as her father said 
 they did, it was not wrong for them to do so; they were not 
 subject to the rules that should govern other men; why, they 
 had power like gods, like God himself, to forgive sins; they 
 opened and no man shut, and shut and no man opened, the 
 gates of the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 "Most Holy Mary," she said softly as she sat down again 
 on the wall, "help me to think right thoughts! " 
 
 Many a time and more frequently as she grew older, life 
 had seemed to be "closing in," contracting like the pitiless 
 walls of a chamber of the Inquisition. That impression 
 was very distinct this afternoon. Oh! how she longed to 
 pass out beyond the amphitheater of hills and see the world 
 which lay beyond. How she longed for some of the tender 
 courtesies of life, for knowledge, for love! But there was 
 no hope of anything better, she knew. There was no hope 
 for her in the "Blessed Virgin," nor in God, nor in his Son, 
 nor in any of the saints. The walls, of the prison were com- 
 ing nearer, the air was growing thick and foul; before her 
 hopeless eyes surely, visibly, life was "closing in." 
 
 Just then she heard footsteps, and turning her head she 
 saw a lady and a girl of about her own age, and a boy a year 
 or two younger. They were all well dressed in the Parisian 
 
30 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO.' 
 
 style; for the wealthy people in Mexico get their fashions 
 directly from Paris. The lady wore a black dress of some 
 soft, light material, and a thin black scarf, the daughter a 
 light lawn dress and a silken scarf. 
 
 The former was a handsome matron of about forty. She 
 had a clear brunette complexion, dark brown hair with a de- 
 cided inclination to wave, and eyes of the same color. Her 
 self-possession, her gait, the tone of her voice, the very set 
 of her head marked her as a woman of wealth and aristocracy. 
 
 The girl's face reminded one of Raphael's St. Cecilia. 
 There were the same curved outlines, the tender mouth, 
 sweet alike in seriousness and in mirth, the innocent eyes. 
 She had a clear, rich complexion like her mother's, and hair 
 only a little lighter. It was a beautiful, girlish face, and 
 better than that one felt at once that it indicated sincerity 
 and good nature. The boy too was a handsome fellow with 
 a strong resemblance to his mother. 
 
 They were almost- out of breath witH their climb to the top 
 of the rock. They entered the church, knelt and crossed 
 themselves before the various images, then the lady and her 
 daughter sat down on one of the benches inside to rest. If 
 they spoke at all it was in whispers because of the sanctity 
 of the place and in order not to disturb the worshipper who 
 was still diligently counting her beads. 
 
 The boy came out and after saying " Good evening " po- 
 litely to Mercedes began to amuse himself by throwing grav- 
 els into the valley. Presently the lady and her daughter 
 came out and stood looking at the view before them. 
 
 "Mama," said the girl in a low, musical voice which suited 
 well the face and the unconscious air of high breeding which 
 characterized every movement, "it is just eleven days now 
 until we go to the City of Mexico. " 
 
 "Yes, dear," replied the mother. 
 
 "Is the view from the hill of Guadalupe as pretty as this, 
 mama? " went on the girl. 
 
 "O, yes, daughter," she replied, smiling, "this is nothing 
 in comparison with that. I suppose there are few views in 
 
AT THE CHAPEL, OP THE HOLY WOOD. 31 
 
 Europe which surpass that. And we shall worship in the 
 chapel of Guadalupe. You climb the hill to it by steps, too." 
 
 "Dear me! I hope it isn't as tiresome a climb as this," re- 
 plied the girl with a low, rippling laugh. 
 
 "You should not speak of getting tired in the service of 
 God, Magdalena," replied her mother in a gently reproving 
 tone. ' ' There is no merit in it when there is no physical 
 suffering. Chapels and shrines are built on high, steep hills 
 that we may mortify the flesh in reaching them and so be 
 prepared to receive the grace of God. Come, it is time to go 
 home," she added. "Come, Salvador (Savior), let's go," and 
 they crossed the space in front of the chapel, saying "adios" 
 pleasantly to Mercedes as they passed, and descended the 
 steps on the side of the rock opposite to that where they had 
 ascended. Mercedes watched them until they had disap- 
 peared, the boy and girl hand in hand merrily jumping down 
 the steps. 
 
 A vision of loveliness they seemed to her; to see them was 
 to have a glimpse of the world that she longed for. She had 
 seen them before at a distance. The lady, she knew, was 
 the wife of her father's landlord, the owner of the great ha- 
 cienda on which all her kindred except her father had worn 
 out their lives in the hopeless effort to pay ever-increasing 
 debts. 
 
 "They do not seem to be such dreadful people," she 
 thought; "they spoke very kindly to me. They have always 
 been rich and happy. Of course they can't know how it 
 seems to be any other way. I wonder how life seems to 
 them." 
 
 Just then her aunt came out of the church, and Mercedes 
 rolled up the matting and with aching limbs and an aching 
 heart followed her down the steps. 
 
.32 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A PEON. 
 
 MERCEDES' father was a peon. A peon is a man who 
 owes a debt and is under obligations to work for his 
 creditor till the debt is paid. While the peon is actually em- 
 ployed the master furnishes him an insufficient quantity of 
 corn for bread; he allows him also a miserable house free of 
 rent. 
 
 In return the peon must work for his creditor, and for him 
 alone until the debt is paid. The comity of the system for- 
 bids one master's employing the peons of another. The 
 paying of the debt is made impossible by the prices at which 
 his food and the other necessities of life are furnished him, 
 for he must buy everything from his master, with whom an 
 account was opened when he became his debtor. If the price 
 of a peck of corn is 20 cents it is sold to the peon for 40 cents; 
 cloth that would be sold to other men for 25 cents a yard is 
 sold to the peon for 50 cents that is to say that in that, as 
 in all other cases, it is entered on the book that he has be- 
 come a debtor to those amounts. This being the case it is 
 -clear that he can never discharge his debts. 
 
 The debts of the fathers do not extend to the children dur- 
 ing their lives, nor are they inherited by them when the 
 parents die. But the children become peons by force of cir- 
 cumstances. They must live; to live they must work; even 
 if another master would employ them they would be in no 
 better condition in his service; it is better to stay together; 
 as soon as they are large enough for their work to be worth 
 anything they open accounts with their father's master, thus 
 becoming peons. If the master thinks the children are slow 
 about entering into the father's or mother's state of servitude 
 lie has some very simple means of hastening that desirable 
 
A PEON. 33 
 
 consummation: he has only to oppress the parents more and 
 the children must, for the subsistence of the family, open 
 accounts with him. When an hacienda is sold, the peons, by 
 means of their debts, are sold with it. When the children 
 inherit the land they inherit the peons 'with it. 
 
 The great haciendas in this country are said to be about 
 equally divided between Mexicans and foreigners. The lat- 
 ter are Spaniards, Frenchmen and Italians. These spend 
 nearly if not all their time in Europe; and the Mexican 
 owners of haciendas spend the greater part of the time either 
 in Europe or in the cities. The administration of affairs is 
 left to superintendents. If the Senor receives his regular 
 supplies of money he probably gives himself little concern 
 about the policy employed on his estate. If, by chance, a 
 humane man should be employed as superintendent, and by 
 virtue of his justice it should become possible for the peons 
 to pay their debts they would leave the hacienda when these 
 were paid, or go on working for reasonable wages; in either 
 case there would be less money to send to the Senor; he 
 would know at once that something was wrong in the admin- 
 istration of his affairs; he might not know exactly what it 
 was, but, in short, as a matter of course, he would employ 
 another superintendent. 
 
 There is, therefore, for the peon, no escape from slavery 
 but through the gateway of death. In some respects it is 
 worse than the slavery of the negroes in our southern States 
 before the war. The slaveholder provided sufficient and 
 wholesome food, and comfortable lodgings and clothing for 
 his negroes on the same principle that prompted him to care 
 for his horses and cattle. The master of peons provides for 
 his slaves only while they are at work, and very poorly then; 
 if they die he can get others for nothing. The negroes could 
 be beaten for real or fancied delinquencies; the peons are not 
 whipped, but with them other ways of punishment are used 
 that are, perhaps, worse. When the superintendent thinks a 
 peon is guilty of an offense he complains of him to the court, 
 representing the case as he thinks proper. The superintend - 
 3 
 
34 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ent is generally on good terms with the judge, and the result 
 is the peon is put into prison. There, of course, the op- 
 pressed man is making nothing; his wife and children, if they 
 are unable to work, are suffering; if they can work they are 
 entering deeper and deeper into the servitude of his master. 
 
 The system of peonage was abolished by the constitution 
 of 1857, the constitution published by Benito Juarez. The 
 theory was changed, in practice it is the same, the difference 
 being that the peon cannot now be legally imprisoned for 
 debt. It is, however, sometimes done illegally. The reason 
 the system remains the same is this: Those who were then 
 peons could never pay their debts for reasons which I have 
 explained, and their children also became peons for reasons 
 also explained. For some reason, however, perhaps owing to 
 some little relenting on the part of some of the masters, there 
 are not quite so many peons as formerly. Then, nearly all 
 the humble class in some of the States were peons; now there 
 are some even in the peon States who maintain a struggling, 
 uncertain independence. In some of the States peonage does 
 not exist. 
 
 There is one strip of country in Mexico in which the system 
 has been considerably mitigated since the publication of the 
 Constitution forbidding the arrest and imprisonment of the 
 debtor. In the parts of the northern States which border on 
 the United States the peon, knowing that he has over and 
 over worked out his debts, flees from his master to Texas or 
 to the other bordering States; or his sons escape to the 
 United States and, finding employment, make money and pay 
 the father's debts. It is said that this is the history of nearly 
 all the Mexicans in Texas, and in the other States of the 
 United States which border on the Rio Grande. They have 
 escaped from centuries of bitter and hopeless slavery; will 
 not this fact give you a tenderer feeling for the men and 
 women whom you call by the ignominious name of "greasers"? 
 
 Some of these escaped peons have returned to the frontier 
 of Mexico and have succeeded in buying small tracts of land, 
 and by industry and economy have become prosperous. 
 
A PEON. 
 
 35 
 
 These favorable conditions exist nowhere else but in the 
 frontier. The peons of the haciendas farther toward the 
 south whither shall they flee? Ground down by ignorance, 
 they know nothing of the liberty offered in the United States, 
 and if they knew of it their poverty would not permit them 
 to avail themselves of it. There is absolutely no alternative 
 for them; they and their wives and their sons and their 
 daughters after them must live and die in this cruel slavery, 
 in ignorance and superstition and poverty. 
 
 The class of peons is very large, compared with the ruling 
 class. The haciendas are immense, some of them being as 
 large as the smaller of the New England States. On each 
 hacienda there are hundreds or thousands of the peons, 
 according to the extent of the estate or the ability of the 
 owner to cultivate it. There is a surplus of field labor in 
 nearly every State in the Republic. 
 
 On all public questions the laborers are kept in ignorance 
 and are influenced to act as the Sefior or superintendent de- 
 sires. In the popular elections, for instance, the men all 
 vote blindly as "mi Sefior" directs them to do. 
 
 The remedies proposed for this evil are the development 
 of other industries besides agriculture, such as mining and 
 manufacturing industries which will give steady employ- 
 ment to men and just remuneration, thus enabling them to 
 maintain their liberty and perhaps buy that of some of their 
 kindred. The establishment and support of common schools 
 will also do much to accomplish their emancipation; but com- 
 pulsory attendance on the schools will be necessary. 
 
 From that very interesting book, "Mexico: Our Neighbor, " 
 I learn that "in several of the more progressive States 
 attendance at the schools is required and enforced by law; 
 and in many localities where the parents of school children 
 are obliged to labor in the fields or elsewhere during school 
 hours nurseries are maintained with suitable attendants to 
 care for the children under school age. The most encourag- 
 ing information regarding the schools was the admitted fact 
 that the Indian children are tractable and studious, learn 
 
36 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 rapidly, and soon become greatly interested in their studies, 
 exhibiting quite phenomenal powers for memorizing and 
 retaining, and fair capacity for the mastery and application 
 of principles." 
 
 Of course, the breaking up of these great haciendas into 
 smaller estates, which will inevitably result from the laws of 
 inheritance in forpe in this country, will have a tendency to 
 mitigate the evils of peonage. Real estate is here divided 
 among all the children, instead of being given to the eldest 
 son, as is the case in England. The children of these rich land 
 owners, are, in many cases, rendered incapable or averse to 
 attending to business by the idle and luxurious habits in 
 which they are reared; therefore they, more easily than their 
 fathers, sell parts of their estates. The result will be that as 
 the poor man is enabled by mining and manufacturing opera- 
 tions to make and save a small sum of money he will invest 
 it in land and become the independent owner of a farm. But 
 this is at present little, if anything, more than a dream of the 
 future. 
 
 Atanacio Gonzales had a fine mind, and with his energy 
 and perseverance might, if he had been educated, have stood 
 abreast of the most intelligent men of his country. But the 
 policy of the Catholic Church in Mexico, as in all other coun- 
 tries in which she has had temporal power, has always been 
 to keep the people in ignorance in order to keep them in sub- 
 jection to herself. Through her influence there were no 
 government schools in Mexico till after the publication of 
 the present Constitution. It is said that before that there 
 were few Catholic schools; but after the establishment of the 
 government schools the Church also increased the number of 
 her schools, and they were improved, she opining that if the 
 people were to be educated it would be better for her inter- 
 ests for them to be educated in her schools. It is estimated 
 that at present about sixty -six per cent, of the people can- 
 not read. 
 
 In his youth Atanacio had been a Catholic; but in the army 
 of Juarez he had imbibed liberal sentiments, and they had 
 
A PEON 37 
 
 been strengthened by his observations in later years of the 
 superstitions and absurdities of Romanism, and the corrup- 
 tions of the priesthood. His daughter had been accustomed 
 from her earliest years to hear him reiterate these facts and 
 hurl maledictions against the Church. If he had said such 
 things in a calm and moderate way they would have had far 
 more effect on her, but the impressions she received against 
 the Church were accompanied by an indistinct idea that her 
 father himself, the being she most loved, was not quite as 
 good as he ought to be, and that he was not, therefore, a 
 very good judge of religion. 
 
 The consideration of the abuses of the Church, the disap- 
 pointments of his life, and the long and hopeless struggle with 
 poverty which he as a peon had had to wage, had hardened 
 and embittered him. Yet he was a favorite with his com- 
 panions; he had always been since the days when in Juarez' 
 war camp he read to his fellow soldiers this volume of Don 
 Quixote, on which his daughter now feasted, pronouncing 
 many of the words in a way that would have been excrucia- 
 ting to the Spanish Academy. 
 
38 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 AN EVENING IN MERCEDES! HOME. 
 
 WHEN Maria de los Angeles and her niece reached home 
 it was dark. They passed through the wide front en- 
 trance, crossed a dirty court and entered a long, white- washed 
 room. It had no windows, the ventilation being effected 
 through the door and a hole a little larger than that allowed 
 for a stove-pipe near the top of the room, though, to tell the 
 truth, this was generally closed with rags. Overhead in- 
 stead of a ceiling were seen the bare, round beams. The 
 canes which were laid over these to support the earth with 
 which the house was covered were in such a state of decay 
 that when the long-delayed rains should come there would 
 be many a leak and it would be difficult to find dry spots on 
 the floor for the pallets on which they slept. 
 
 A scaffold with a very thin mattress on which lay the af- 
 flicted lad, a high table with very slender legs, three high 
 chairs, two of which had lost their backs, a chest for clothing 
 elevated on a small frame like a table to keep it off the 
 earthen floor and a low bench sitting against the wall, consti- 
 tuted ordinarily the furniture of the room. But in this time 
 of affliction Maria de los Angeles had erected an altar at the 
 end of the room opposite that in which lay the sick boy that 
 he might have before his eyes continually the crucifix and 
 the images of the saints with which it was plentifully fur- 
 nished. It consisted of a scaffold or table about three feet 
 high, four long and two wide, covered with soiled and ragged 
 white cotton cloth. It was adorned with colored paper cut 
 into fancy shapes, and with all the toys, crucifixes and im- 
 ages of saints which the devoted maternal relative of 
 Mordicai could borrow from her neighbors, and rent from 
 
AN EVENING IN MERCEDES' HOME. 39 
 
 the priest. Before the image of Joseph, l the husband of the 
 Virgin Mary, were burning wax candles. 
 
 A neighbor had been engaged to wait on the sick boy dur- 
 ing Maria's absence. A great catastrophe had scarcely been 
 averted. As Maria, after ascertaining the state of Mordicai's 
 feelings, and learning that no miracle of healing had been 
 wrought while she had been absent, sat down Turkish fashion 
 on the floor to rest while Mercedes prepared the supper, 
 Cipriana proceeded to relate the distressing narrative, Maria 
 meantime showing her appreciation by plentiful exclamations 
 of "Maria purisima," and other invocations which I prefer 
 not to repeat. In her excitement the good natured Cipriana 
 indulged in the high tones, violent gesticulation and strong, 
 inverted constructions so common among ignorant people in 
 southern countries. 
 
 "Awhile ago I went home to put on the coffee and frejolea 
 for supper. I left Manuel asleep on the floor; Jubencia I left 
 awake. There on the table was the candle lighted; the can- 
 dle left I right there on the table lighted. Jubencia took the 
 candle, lighted as it was, and set it on that box. There on 
 that very box put Jubencia the candle lighted. The dress 
 that you bought from Dona Antonia was hanging above the 
 box just as you left it. It caught fire and burned up almost 
 entirely, and not only that dress, but a dress of Jubencia's 
 and other things. I was so sorry for the loss of that dress of 
 Dona Antonia's, as you had wanted to keep it as a reminder 
 of her; yes, the loss of the dress, how sorry I was of it! And 
 the children, Maria santisima ! they might have been burned 
 alive! Alive might have been burned the children! But 
 Jubencia screamed and my brother ran in and put out the 
 fire." 
 
 l Note. Monsefior Guame, Apostolic Legate and Doctor of Theology in 
 Paris, France, says: "To this act of divine policy (the declaration of the 
 Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary) Pius IX. adds another. He 
 wishes the church of the Nineteenth Century to have for a defender the 
 glorious patriarch whom Mary herself obeyed on the earth, and who in 
 heaven has lost none of his authority over her and his divine Son. By 
 a recent decree the Vicar of Jesus Christ solemnly declares St. Joseph 
 protector of the Universal Church." 
 
40 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 The three year old cherub, Manuel, had waked during the 
 excitement about the fire, and he continued to cry till 
 Mercedes gave him his supper. It consisted of a teacupf ul 
 of calabasa, that is, sweetened pumpkin. He sat on the dirt 
 floor, as did all the smaller children, to dispatch his meal. 
 This done he stretched himself out in as composed a posture 
 as if he were "laid out," thrust his hands into the pockets of 
 his pantaloons and resumed his crying, screaming lustily, * ' I 
 want to go to sleep," "I want to go to sleep." Jubencia 
 joined him, and Cipriana's year old baby, also in pantaloons, 
 added his voice to the uproar. 
 
 " May all the saints help me! " exclaimed Maria. "Manuel, 
 if you are sleepy why don't you go to sleep? Don't hurry off, 
 Cipriana. I am very much obliged to you for taking care of 
 them for me. Jubencia, hush! Mercedes, take up Manuel 
 and take off his shoes and put him to bed." 
 
 Just then Mercedes' father came in with an acquaintance. 
 They both wore white pantaloons, shirts of the same ma- 
 terial, and sandals, that is, pieces of sole leather bound on 
 their feet with leather strings. 
 
 Mercedes' heart gave a leap of joy when she saw her father 
 lay down a new hat. For two or three months he had worn 
 a hat that was so ragged it would not protect his head from 
 the burning rays of a semitropical sun; for a week he had 
 had none. But the daughter did not know what the new one 
 had cost him; neither did he. The superintendent had 
 ostensibly sold it to him for $.75, but he had written on his 
 account book $2.00 as the price of it. 
 
 Atanacio had sometimes had hopes of paying off those ter- 
 rible debts before he died so that his daughter might not be 
 doomed all her life to grind corn, as it were, in the kitchens 
 of his masters, but he had more than once had reasons to 
 suspect such dealing as this on the part of the overseer. 
 There was no redress, as he knew; and the hope, which had 
 never had more than a struggling existence, went on through 
 the toilsome days dying a slow death. Most of the peons 
 submitted quietly to their fate, but it was not in Atanacio's 
 
AN EVENING IN MERCEDES' HOME. 41 
 
 nature to bear it in silence. He was in a good humor to- 
 night, however. 
 
 He was of medium height and heavily built. His black 
 hair was long and shaggy, and this with the bushy eyebrows- 
 above his dark penetrating eyes gave him an almost fierce 
 appearance. 
 
 After the salutations were over he gave his guest, Rai- 
 mundo, a tall, slender, mild-looking man, a seat at the table. 
 There was no table cloth, but Mercedes spread before the 
 guest a coarse, brown, cotton napkin with fringe and a- 
 simple pattern of open work at each end. She then brought 
 their supper of coffee, frijoles, tortillas and chile. This lat- 
 ter delicacy is no more nor less than stewed red pepper. I 
 have heard it said that in some parts of Mexico they make 
 coffee fit for a Sultan of Constantinople. This beverage did 
 not belong to that class; it was strong and black, very sug- 
 gestive in smell and taste of the burnt grains of which it was 
 made. The coarse, brown sugar was cooked in it. They 
 partook of their supper without the luxury of knives and 
 forks. 
 
 As the two men began to sip their coffee they plunged into 
 a discussion of the weather and its influence on the crops, 
 for having met only a few minutes before in the street they 
 had not had time to dispose of that topic. 
 
 "If God does not succor us with rain soon," said Rai- 
 mundo, loosening the Turkish towel which he wore about his 
 neck, V there will be more suffering than any of us have ever 
 seen. Why, now in Sal till o corn sells at seventy -five cents a 
 peck, and frijoles are still higher. I thought as I came along" 
 yesterday that the fields between there and here were drier 
 than I had ever seen them. How are prices here ? " 
 
 "O, about the same. But we are expecting rain now." 
 
 "Why? " asked the visitor in surprise. 
 
 "They brought in the Virgin of St. John last Sunday," he- 
 replied sententiously, with a glance at Maria de los Angeles 
 over his cup as he drank. 4 ' That lady would not be so im- 
 polite as to leave us in misery after receiving all that atten- 
 tion. You are a good Catholic still, are you, Raimundo? " 
 
42 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 " Yes, " replied that mild-looking person, scarcely knowing 
 what to say, for he had seen the glance at Maria, and had 
 also seen her face cloud with anger. ' ' Yes, I have not gone 
 back on the religion of my fathers yet." 
 
 "You go to mass every Sunday, confess at least once a 
 year, do penance now and then, and repeat prayers with de- 
 votion to gain indulgences, just as our good Father Ripalda 
 says we must? " went on Atanacio, for his politeness did not 
 prevent his pursuing a subject that was disagreeable to his 
 guest. 
 
 * ' Yes, I do all that. A man must have some religion, and 
 what better can he have than that his fathers had before 
 him?" 
 
 44 Certainly," replied Atanacio with provoking coolness, 
 "we are very religious ourselves. You have noticed our 
 altar. Why in the last week Maria has burned more tallow 
 under the nostrils of the Senor St. Joseph," he said with a 
 quick motion of his thumb over his shoulder at the image of 
 Joseph, "more than she will be able to pay for in a month 
 with all the savings from her washing, not to speak of the 
 rent she has to pay the priest for her idols. Three of those 
 she has on the altar are rented from him at the rate of a 
 dollar a month. And if Mordicai dies from that leg," he con- 
 tinued with a mischievous glance at the boy who was propped 
 up on the bed, "if he should die, you know, it would take 
 more money than Maria can earn all the rest of her life to 
 pay the priests to pray him out of purgatory." 
 
 "Did you ever think," Raimundo," he went on, now under 
 full headway, ' ' did you ever count up what it costs a fellow 
 to be saved by this Holy Apostolic Church? " 
 
 ' ' No, " said the visitor with dignity, ' ' I've never counted it. " 
 
 "Well, suppose we count it. Take the child of a poor man 
 like me. First the baby must be baptized, because if it isn't 
 it will be lost, certain. That costs $2.25. Now it is regen- 
 erated by this baptism, you know, and one who didn't know 
 the Holy Mother Church might think that was the end of it. 
 But it is only the beginning. When he is five or six years 
 
AN EVENING IN MERCEDES' HOME. 43 
 
 old, for his greater security, he must be confirmed; that 
 costs $. 25. He grows up and takes it into his head to be 
 married, just as if a poor man who doesn't know one day 
 where he is to get bread for the next had any right to a wife. 
 The Reverend Father says he will marry him for $15.00. l 
 Now the fellow makes about $.40 a day when he can get 
 work to do, which isn't all the time by any means. His food 
 costs at least twelve cents a day, the rest he must pay for 
 clothing and shelter, even if he has no kinsfolk to help on. 
 How long do you think it will take him to save the $15.00, eh, 
 Raimundo? even if his sisters should help him from their 
 little savings to buy his sweetheart's wedding dress? " 
 
 "He can never save it," reluctantly confessed the visitor. 
 
 "Hardly ever," resumed Atanacio, scornfully, "and so he 
 says to the good priest. And what does he reply? 'Well, let 
 another take the girl then.' So it is impossible for him to be 
 married by the Church, and the priest has taught him to 
 believe in no other. It is true that he can sometimes secure 
 the Church marriage by becoming a perpetual debtor to the 
 priest. But that might be a thing of the past but for the 
 superstition of Mexicans," he continued, glancing toward 
 Maria de los Angeles, who, having eaten her supper, had 
 seated herself sullenly on the low bench and, accompanied 
 by Mercedes, had taken up the usual occupation of the even- 
 ing, the making of cigarettes. ' ' He might now be married 
 by the civil law. That, in this part of the country, would 
 not cost him but $4.00. 2 But the trouble is the poor fellow 
 won't believe that that is marriage, he still wants ' the holy 
 sacrament of the Church' or nothing." 
 
 "Ave Maria purisima!" exclaimed the amiable hostess. 
 "That I should have to listen to such blasphemy against the 
 
 l Note. This is a very low price. I know serving 1 women whose hus- 
 bands, with the help of their relatives, paid as much as $30 or $40. The 
 expense is in proportion to the elegance of the ceremony the quantity 
 of holy water, incense, etc., that is used. 
 
 "Note. According to the law civil marriage is free if the contracting 
 parties go to the office of the judge; but in some States, by an abuse of 
 authority, the judges charge according, they say, to the ability of the 
 groom to pay. 
 
44 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Mother Church ! and in my own house, too!" She always spoke 
 of it as her "own house," though she was indebted to Atanacio 
 for that poor shelter. Her husband had left her about two 
 years before without giving any account of his conduct either 
 to the law or to the people. In this he only acted like a 
 large proportion of the men of his class. 
 
 "You are very much mistaken. It is marriage by the 
 Church that is not marriage at all. It is a mere farce." 
 
 The protege of the angels jerked angrily the painted 
 wooden tray in which was the tobacco, spilling some of it 
 into her lap. 
 
 Atanacio went on, "Well, he goes on through life, con- 
 fessing and reciting prayers, paying for indulgences, crawl- 
 ing up church steps, whipping himself with knotted cords and 
 thorny sticks, buying scapularies to wear around his neck, so 
 that if he dies suddenly the Blessed Virgin will send the 
 angels to take him straight to heaven, giving a few cents 
 now and then to the beggars, as he can afford it, to pay his 
 entrance into the celestial city; and at last he comes to die. 
 Then notwithstanding his regeneration in his baptism at the 
 beginning of his career, somebody must go flying off for the 
 priest to come and hear his last confession and administer 
 the extreme unction. Then the funeral in the church must 
 be paid for, a good healthy sum for the masses, candles, etc., 
 ete. He must be buried in consecrated ground, for it would 
 break the hearts of his wife and children to lay him in 
 unblessed earth. So the Father must be paid to bless it." 
 
 44 You know how it was formerly; all the burying grounds 
 belonged to the Church, and if one could not pay he could 
 not bury his dead at all. When the bereaved family went to 
 the priest and asked permission to bury in the Campo Santo 
 (the cemetery) the reply always was, * Where is your money? ' 
 4 1 have none, Reverend Father,' said the widow, kneeling 
 and kissing his hand. ' Then go and eat your husband, ' re- 
 plied the embassador of Christ. " 
 
 "I remember when I buried my wife," he said abruptly, 
 with a tremor in his voice. He bent his head on his hand for 
 
AN EVENING IN MERCEDES' HOME. 45 
 
 a few moments, raised it, attempted to go on, failed, got up, 
 in his shame and confusion giving the table a push that set 
 the cups and plates a rattling, and went out into the court. 
 He was a rough man, you know. 
 
 Mercedes' head bent lower over the package of cigarettes 
 she was putting up. In the silence that had fallen in the 
 room the corn shucks in which they were wrapped rustled 
 loudly. The visitor shaded his face with his hand; he, too, 
 was ashamed of betraying emotion. He heartily wished that 
 he could defend the faith of his forefathers, but he knew 
 that much more of the same kind might be added. 
 
 Presently Atanacio came in and sat down. "O, the dead 
 always were buried, I suppose," he said. "The relatives 
 could go into the streets and beg the money; and thank God 
 there always have been people with kind enough hearts to 
 give for such a purpose. But the Constituent Congress put 
 a stop to all that when they confiscated the lands of the 
 Church to the State and provided burial grounds. That was 
 in '59, you know," he was fond of being explicit on these 
 points; "only it was a long time before some of the Catholics 
 would accept this liberty. A man may bury his dead for 
 nothing now, and if he cares for the priest's blessing and the 
 holy water he can pay him to consecrate the ground." 
 
 "Now he is dead and buried, and just here one might say 
 really begins the expense of his salvation. He is in purga- 
 tory suffering in the flames of torment. They are painted 
 for the widow and children in lively colors by the compas- 
 sionate spiritual adviser, compassionate, you see, to the poor 
 soul in torment. Then if she is conscientious and really 
 loves her husband, she will pay the priest all that she and 
 the children can spare from their earnings to say masses for 
 his release. And pay as much as she may the time of his 
 release is always a little way in the future, after a little more 
 or a good deal more money shall have been paid. This is 
 what the Church makes off a poor man's soul, and she makes 
 as much more off a rich man's as she can possibly wring 
 from him during his life and from his wife and children after 
 
46 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 his death. How many fine houses can you think of, Raimundo,. 
 that have come into the hands of the priests from the widows 
 and children of rich men, leaving them in poverty?" 
 
 "I know of one or two cases* of the kind," replied the 
 guest with some hesitation, and looking about him uneasily. 
 
 " I should think you did. I have not been about this world 
 much, but I know of more than that myself. In one case a 
 well-to-do man died and the priest told his widow he had not 
 paid alms enough to secure his entrance into heaven. So 
 the money was all paid to the priest, everything, till they 
 came to the house. To save that they sent out to the streets 
 and begged money to pay the alms that were still wanting. 
 But that had to end, of course. The priests wanted the 
 house, and they got it. The lady and her two daughters are 
 now living in a common house in a back street and sewing 
 for a living. I could tell you a good many more stories of 
 the same kind." 
 
 "I think," said the visitor, gathering courage from his 
 friend's boldness and glad to relieve himself and the others 
 from the strain in which the conversation of the last fifteen 
 minutes had held them, "the priests do catch themselves 
 sometimes in the funniest way about these masses for the 
 dead. You know Don Bartolo Ortis? Well, he is rich, you 
 know, and so is his brother, Don Miguel. I tell you, Don 
 Bartolo has everything fine in his house; they live like 
 princes, and ride in a carriage worth $1,000. I know about 
 it, for I worked on his hacienda a year. Well, his mother 
 had been dead for I don't know how many years. But he 
 and Don Miguel were still paying for the masses. But the 
 curious part of it was that every year the priest asked for 
 more than he had received the year before for the masses and 
 the candles and the black ribbons and the holy water. Well, 
 one day Don Bartolo and the old priest had been out driving 
 in that $1,000 carriage. They had just got home and were 
 standing under a tree. Two or three of us hands had been 
 gathering tunas and were standing near. The priest asked 
 for the money for the annual mass." 
 
AN EVENING IN MERCEDES' HOME. 47 
 
 '"But, my dear father,' said Don Bartolo (you know he 
 couldn't be anything but polite if he tried), 'you need more 
 money each year than the year before. It seems that the 
 more we pay the deeper in she goes. I think for her sake 
 we had better not pay any more. ' And neither he nor Don 
 Miguel ever did pay another cent; I heard him say so a long 
 time afterwards." 
 
 "Yes," said Atanacio, laughing, "I heard of a wealthy 
 gentleman who paid for eighteen years to get Ms father out. 
 At last he went to the priest and said, ' Father, it breaks my 
 heart to think that my poor father is still suffering in purga- 
 tory. Tell me how much it will cost to say masses enough once 
 for all to release him.' The priest remained very thoughtful 
 for awhile with his head on his hand. At length he looked 
 up and said, 'It will cost $1,000.' 'Well,' said the son, 'let 
 the masses be said at once. ' Then there was flying about the 
 cathedral, and pretty soon the great organ was set agoing 
 and the candles were lighted, and the priests with their 
 robes on were at the altars, and the boys were waving the 
 censers of incense, and the gentleman was kneeling and 
 shedding tears in abundance. After all that had gone on for 
 an hour or two, up comes the priest, and he says, ' Well, my 
 dear sir, I am happy to inform you that your father is now 
 delivered from purgatory.' 'And is there no danger of his 
 ever returning?' asked the gentleman. 'None whatever,' 
 replied the priest. The gentleman got up and threw his 
 arms around the priest and thanked him; and then he walked 
 off and left him, and the good Father is waiting to this day 
 for that ^1,000. I suppose the gentleman thought he had 
 already paid him enough without that. " 
 
 And so story followed story; but neither they nor the loud 
 laughter with which they were accompanied were to Merce- 
 des' taste. She slipped out after awhile into the court, trying 
 not to hear the grunting of the shabby pigs, that were tied 
 by her aunt's door and the neighbors', trying not to see the 
 two or three lean, deformed dogs which came around her. 
 Once she stretched her clasped hands upward towards the 
 
48 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 sky, and an inaudible cry wrenched itself from her suffering 
 soul: "O God, have mercy on us!" But the heavens seemed 
 brass above her; the darkness settled down more heavily on 
 her spirit; there was no intimation in the stars, shining 
 brightly in the blue sky, no hint in the quivering air, that a 
 great change was at hand, that there remained to her only 
 one more night of her old, hopeless life. 
 
 So the changes in our lives often come. And sometimes 
 we do not recognize them even when they come; only in after 
 years we can look back and say: "That was a turning point." 
 
A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 
 
 |N a pleasant July morning, the morning after the visit of 
 Mercedes and her aunt to the chapel on the hill, two 
 ladies sat in their cool and shaded parlor. 
 
 Perhaps it was only pleasant in that parlor, one could not 
 imagine that it was ever otherwise there. Even if you 
 stepped out on the narrow front balcony where the bright 
 plumaged parrot was screaming and scolding and laughing, 
 you were beguiled from looking at the hot and dusty street 
 by the sight of the plaza opposite, it was so cool, so shady, 
 so pretty with its trees and rosebushes and other shrubbery. 
 You could see and hear the great fountain in the center, from 
 whose topmost basin the water fell in showers of diamonds, 
 continuing its downward course, from basin to basin, till it 
 reached the great basin whose fluted sides were painted the 
 national colors, red, green and white. Over there, too, in 
 full view, was that graceful oriental palm tree, so suggestive 
 of cool oases and sparkling fountains in the desert. 
 
 This parlor was in the second story of the house, so that 
 the noises from the street came to the inmates only in sub- 
 dued undertones. There was a great deal of individuality 
 about the room, or rather a great deal of two individualities; 
 but they were so beautifully blended and harmonized that 
 one could not discern where the one ended and the other be- 
 gan. There were some things in the room which suggested 
 a love for literature, music and the fine arts, other things 
 which were equally suggestive of a love for the beauties of 
 nature and the practical side of life. But none of these 
 things neither the books, nor the pictures, nor the music, 
 nor the exquisite fancy work ever obtruded themselves on 
 you; you only had a feeling that they were there. 
 4 
 
50 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 There were chairs of several patterns and no two alike. 
 The dainty wicker rocking chair invited you, a great uphol- 
 stered chair held out its arms for you, a pretty, slender camp 
 chair offered its services, a great easy sofa assured you of 
 comfort. Here and there on the low tables was a choice book 
 which had strayed in there from the well-filled bookcase that 
 you knew instinctively was somewhere in the house. Over 
 the windows were the daintiest and softest of lace curtains. 
 
 The two German ladies who sat in this room were in keep- 
 ing with their surroundings. They were both somewhere in 
 thirty. One of them contradicted race traditions, for .she 
 had dark hair, a dark complexion, and dark eyes. There was 
 an independent, practical look about her, in her quick move- 
 ments and in her position, whether she sat or stood. Her 
 thin summer dress was dainty, to be sure; one enjoyed look- 
 ing at it from the collar to the hem ; but it was evident that 
 the principal idea of the wearer in designing it had been to 
 secure comfort and not to follow the latest fashions. 
 
 There was a streak of contradiction in her. If you re- 
 marked that the bird which she was painting on the velvet 
 table scarf was beautiful, she would reply in the most non- 
 chalant tone, "No, it is not pretty, but it suits this scarf. " If, 
 anxious to say something pleasant, you plucked up courage 
 after that to observe that it must be a difficult and tedious task 
 to paint it, she at once answered that, on the contrary, it was 
 very easy indeed, and that she could paint it in an hour if she 
 tried. If you even said it was pleasant in that room, she 
 would respond that of course one could expect to be only 
 comparatively comfortable in there when it was so hot out- 
 side. 
 
 Yet she was the best natured of people. She was 'a very 
 interesting conversationalist if one left the talking entirely 
 to her. She would give him quaint sketches of travel and 
 and descriptions of people and customs, brightened by 
 gleams of humor and emphasized by her own vigorous way 
 of putting things. She had a delightful way, too, of keeping 
 herself entirely out of her narratives, or at least in the back- 
 
A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 51 
 
 ground. You only felt that you were seeing people and 
 things through the eyes of an original and practical person. 
 
 She had no religion, probably because she knew that by 
 having none she could contradict more people than she could 
 by adopting any of Jhe many forms of Christianity or pagan- 
 ism. But to do her justice the tricks and shams and chicanery 
 of Roman Catholicism were disgusting to her. Its wicked- 
 ness and greed of filthy lucre were not unknown to her 
 either. No form of Protestantism was known to her except 
 Lutheranism, and of it she had never heard much. So far 
 life had gone smoothly and she had felt little need of religion. 
 
 When she was only eighteen she had come alone across the 
 ocean to marry the young German merchant, who had pre- 
 ceded her a year or two to make a home for her. She had 
 three children. Her two eldest, who were boys, were in 
 school in Germany; the youngest, a fair, winsome girl of 
 thirteen, was with relatives in the United States, attending 
 school. In the loving, practical letters which she sent every 
 week to her children one found the best expression of her 
 character. 
 
 The other lady was tall and fair, with blue eyes and fluffy,, 
 yellow hair. A nameless grace of manner, as undefinable as 
 the faint perfume of flowers, a gracjxmsness which was 
 prompted by kindly feelings toward high and low, character- 
 ized all she said and did; they would have made her a charm- 
 ing woman even if her face had been homely. 
 
 She never contradicted. Neither did she always agree 
 with what was said. If it was a matter of any consequence 
 about which she differed from you in opinion she made you 
 feel somehow that she thought differently, but with perfect 
 delicacy and charity for your way of thinking, and with not 
 the least assumption of infallibility on her part. 
 
 She was a Catholic; she told you so in a perfectly off-hand 
 and well-bred way, as if it were a matter of course, or just as 
 she would say, "I am a German," but with a little intangible 
 something in tone and manner that made you feel that she 
 would think, if she should think anything about it, that it was 
 
52 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 very respectable to be a Catholic; but you never had any 
 fears that she undervalued you for differing from her in 
 religious beliefs. But she had no images nor altars, except 
 that in her private room there hung a silver- mounted crucifix 
 over her quaint, old-fashioned bed, w^ich, with the other 
 furniture, had been brought from the old country. 
 
 She went to church sometimes, but rarely, and when she 
 did go it was more to hear the music than for any other pur- 
 pose. She would have liked to hear an eloquent sermon now 
 and then merely for the eloquence of it. She never had any 
 acquaintance with the priests, and if she had permitted her- 
 self to have a poor opinion of any one they certainly would 
 have been among those unfortunate persons. 
 
 She, too, could tell delightful stories of travel, >but there 
 was the difference between her narratives and those of her 
 cousin Gretchen that there is between Longfellow's "Outre 
 Mer" and the narration of a brisk business man. 
 
 Both she and her companion were very popular with the 
 Mexicans, for, besides the possession of all the social and 
 domestic virtues, they were accounted to be ladies of great 
 learning. It was rumored that besides their native German 
 and the Spanish language, they spoke also with ease and 
 elegance, French, English and Italian; and some were even 
 so- wild in their assertions as to add Greek and Latin. 
 But public opinion was divided on this latter subject, some 
 affirming that only the tall, fair one possessed those accom- 
 plishments. 
 
 They numbered so many ladies of the best society among 
 their visiting acquaintances that with the exception of the 
 small circle of their most intimate friends, they seldom called 
 at the same place more than once a year; though to tell the 
 truth they made no great efforts to call on their friends often, 
 contenting themselves with saying, "Come to see us when- 
 ever you feel like it; we are always glad to see you. But 
 don't wait on us; we have so many acquaintances we find it 
 impossible to visit them all often." They never went to the 
 Sunday night balls, unless they had guests who wished to go: 
 
A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 53 
 
 and only occasionally did they go to the more select enter- 
 tainments. 
 
 Frederica, one would not fail to learn, belonged to a highly 
 respectable family in Germany, for in the course of one's 
 acquaintance with her, some day when he was looking at her 
 photograph album, for instance, and noticed some handsome 
 young gentlemen in uniforms, she would remark that they 
 were her nephews, that they were favorites of the young 
 prince, the heir apparent to the crown of the empire, that 
 through his influence they had been admitted to the best uni- 
 versities, and that recently when he made a tour through 
 Bohemia and Hungary he had selected one of them to accom- 
 pany him. 
 
 Nor was that all. On the wall hung two pictures of an old 
 castle in a lake. One of them represented it as it looked in 
 summer, the other as it looked in winter. Part of it was in 
 ruins, but part of its massive gray walls still defied time. It 
 was built by Charlemagne, and he had lived in it for awhile, 
 she said. 
 
 It stood near Aix-la-Chapelle. It has its legend, of course. 
 The great emperor once gave to his fair wife a ring, telling 
 her that he would never forget her while she kept it. She 
 died, and in her last moments she secretly put the ring into 
 her mouth. The emperor could never find the talisman, but 
 still it attracted him. He had her body placed in a glass 
 case and he sat all the time by her side. At length the 
 bishop found the ring, and took it, saying nothing to his 
 master about it. 
 
 Then Charlemagne went always with the bishop every- 
 wheretill he, tired of his royal society, threw the ring into 
 the lake. The emperor, under -the spell of the enchantment, 
 had an island made in the middle of the lake and built on it 
 this castle and lived in it. 
 
 Frederica was born and brought up in this castle in the 
 midst of the enchanted lake. As one listened, and looked 
 from her to the picture, and from the picture back to her, he 
 would experience something like the feeling of the woman. 
 
54 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 who said that she never saw Washington Irving herself, but 
 that she had once had the privilege of walking out of church 
 behind a woman who had seen him; with the difference that 
 the feeling would be as much more intensified, as royalty is 
 greater than genius. And such royalty ! Ye sun, moon and 
 stars! (as Dickens might have said), think of a woman who 
 was brought up in a castle of Charlemagne's ! 
 
 But though there was doubtless in her heart some very 
 natural pride in the aristocracy of her family of which this 
 castle was to her a representative, her womanly grace always 
 saved the listener from any painful feeling of inferiority. 
 He was always ready to believe that she had shown him the 
 pictures and given him all the information about her family 
 merely because they were matters that were curious and 
 interesting. 
 
 But whatever there may have been of pride in her heart, 
 there was far more of bitterness, which, however, no visitor 
 ever suspected. The shadow of this castle, representing, as 
 it did, the high respectability of her family, had darkened 
 her life. 
 
 When she was about twenty years old she had loved a 
 young gentleman whose family was equal to her own in 
 wealth and respectability. Her love was returned and they 
 were betrothed: The prospective marriage was very agree- 
 able to both families, especially to the relatives of Frederica, 
 for it was evident that Herr Gaussen, though only three or 
 four years older than herself, would soon be recognized as 
 one of the leading merchants of the city in which he lived. 
 
 But just when things were at this happy stage Herr 
 Gaussen became acquainted with the Lutheran religion, 
 -examined it, and adopted it. Then there was wailing in both 
 families. That one who was anything to them should be 
 infected with "that heresy of Martin Luther's" seemed to 
 them the greatest misfortune and disgrace that could befall 
 them. But in vain his sisters entreated him, in vain his ele- 
 gant mother even knelt before him and lifted to him her face 
 bathed in tears, pleading by the respectability of his family, 
 
A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 55 
 
 by all his early recollections, by her mother-love. With all 
 tenderness, but firmly, he told her that Lutheranism was 
 more in accordance with the Sacred Scriptures than Roman- 
 ism, and therefore he must be a Lutheran. 
 
 Useless, too, were the remonstrances of Frederica's family, 
 her own tears and evident suffering, her refusal to marry him 
 unless he would return to the fold of the church. One even- 
 ing they stood in a deep window overlooking the lake on 
 which the moonlight was dancing. He had come for his 
 final answer. She had believed all the time that when he 
 saw there was no other hope of their marriage he would return 
 to the Church. Such obstinacy was unaccountable to her. 
 But as the restless days and sleepless nights went by and 
 there was no sign of yielding, hope had almost died in her 
 heart. It was evident, however, that he suffered no less 
 than herself. 
 
 * ' How can you do anything which brings so much suffering 
 to us all? " she was saying. 
 
 " I cannot do otherwise, as I believe the Bible, the Word of 
 God, Frederica. My salvation depends upon it. " 
 
 "I never saw a Bible, but I know that there is no salvation 
 outside the Church." 
 
 ' ' I used to think so, but I have learned now from the Word 
 of God that 'the just shall live by faith,' and not by the 
 observance of the rites and ceremonies of the Roman Church. 
 Let me show you what I have learned from the Bible, 
 Frederica; you cannot fail to see that it is the truth. Will 
 you not? " 
 
 There was a long silence while the girl stood, leaning 
 against the window, with her face buried in her hands. A 
 fierce struggle was going on in her mind. How could she 
 give up his love and the joyful prospects which had bright- 
 ened her life for months? But, on the other hand, how could 
 she bring this shame on her family! How could she, a young 
 girl, turn against the religion of all her ancestors, of her own 
 father and mother! 
 
 ' ' Come, Frederica, " he pleaded, * ' let me show you that 
 
56 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Martin Luther taught what the Revelation of God teaches. 
 It is an honor, and not a disgrace to do what one's Creator 
 has commanded." 
 
 "I can't. O, Wilhelm, don't ask me! " 
 
 "But it is a question, not only of our happiness, but of the 
 salvation of your soul. Think of that. " 
 
 "No," she replied, suddenly raising her head with the 
 feeling that she could bear the parting and the never seeing 
 him again better than that suspense of suffering; "you will 
 not return to the Church; then I can never marry you." 
 
 There fell another silence between them. At last he said, 
 taking her hand, " Good-bye, then, Frederica," and he kissed 
 her and then went out. And his face was almost as rigid 
 and white in the moonlight as it will be at the last. 
 
 She dragged herself up to her room. Many a night since 
 this trouble came on her had she knelt for hours before the 
 image of the infant Christ, and before that of the Savior on 
 the cross images of a babe and a dead Savior pleading 
 with them not that she might be shown her duty that she 
 might do it but that her lover might return to the Mother 
 Church. She had found no help in them, nor in the image of 
 the Virgin. She did not even look at them to-night. She 
 dropped into a great arm chair and sat there far into the 
 night, confused, benumbed by suffering. 
 
 As the days went by there came into her heart a desperate 
 desire to escape from her childhood's home, so full, now, of 
 painful associations, to escape from the pitying, loving eyes 
 of her sister, from those unresponsive images of the infant 
 and crucified Christ, and from that window overlooking the 
 lake. Some distant relatives of theirs who knew nothing of 
 the circumstances were just then about to start on a tour 
 through Southern Europe. It was arranged that she should 
 accompany them ; her sister and brother-in-law believed that 
 a change would be the best thing for her. 
 
 But little did any of them think, not even she herself, 
 when she told them good-bye with tearless eyes, kissing them 
 with burning lips, that the old castle would never be her 
 home again. 
 
A TELESCOPIC GLIMPSE OF ROYALTY. 57 
 
 Her relatives had been told that she was not well, and that 
 accounted to them for her lack of interest in all they saw. 
 Sometimes the thought occurred to her, as she looked on noble 
 statues, glorious pictures or beautiful landscapes, that she 
 should look at them and try to remember them for the sake 
 of the years to come. But she found it impossible to arouse 
 herself to interest. She did remember most of them, how- 
 ever, and some of them with startling distinctness, for in her 
 morbid state of mind they were unnaturally impressed on her. 
 
 They extended their tour to countries which they had not 
 at first intended to visit. But even in foreign cities she 
 walked always in the shadow of the turrets and battlements 
 of Charlemagne's castle; it always seemed to her that she 
 had done right to refuse to sacrifice the respectability of her 
 family by marrying one of another religion. 
 
 When they returned home she insisted on remaining in one 
 of the southern cities of France, ostensibly to perfect her 
 knowledge of French. Later, impelled by the desire to have 
 some occupation that would allow her less time to think of 
 the past, she became a teacher in a girls' school. Years 
 passed and she still refused to return home. Her grief and 
 sense of loss became milder. Only now and then these 
 haunting recollections came back with such determination 
 that she could not fight them off; and then for days she went 
 about like one in a dream. But she was always a gentle and 
 loving mother, as well as teacher, to the girls who were in 
 her care. Her interest in life came back for their sake; there 
 was only one thing that saddened her in connection with 
 them: the yearly rending of heart strings as they passed out 
 of the school forever. 
 
 Herr Gaussen had suffered, too, but his was a more health- 
 ful nature than hers. His religion had been a support and 
 consolation to him hi this as in all other trials. After two 
 years he had married a sweet Christian woman. His early 
 love was dead or latent. 
 
 After some years Frederica was persuaded to visit her 
 home. During the three or four painful and happy weeks 
 that she passed in her sister's home she wished with all her 
 
58 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 Tieart that some one would tell her something of Herr Gaus- 
 sen. She had never heard anything but the bare fact that he 
 was married. But she could not ask or ultimate in any way 
 that she wished to know. She would have prayed for it if 
 :she had had anything to pray to; but since that night when 
 the images had failed her she had been poorer than the 
 heathen themselves she had not even had an idol. And 
 reared as she had been she had no hope of approaching the 
 invisible, spiritual God without the intercession of a saint. 
 
 But her wish was to be gratified. One day a lady was 
 calling on her; in the course of the conversation she said, 
 with all Innocence: 
 
 "You knew Herr Gaussen. He is quite a wealthy and 
 prominent merchant now. He has four bright, pretty chil- 
 dren, and I think his is one of the loveliest and happiest 
 families I ever saw." 
 
 Frederica started, and the album she was showing to the 
 child at her side almost slipped from her lap, but she quickly 
 recovered her composure, and the lady went on to speak of 
 other matters. 
 
 But Frederica had come to feel that she could not bear the 
 losing of the girls of her classes every year. She had a 
 cousin in Mexico ; she had resolved to go to her. Surely among 
 scenes so new and strange she would not think much of the 
 past. She was a welcome inmate in her cousin's home. But 
 though she said, during these years that she was a Catholic, 
 the crucifix that hung over her bed was no more to her than 
 the parting gift of her sister. 
 
 She was contented and cheerful, living .much for the hap- 
 piness of others. Gretchen's dainty house girls were always 
 Frederica's pupils. Now she taught needle work, painting 
 or music to some poor girl who could not learn those favorite 
 branches in the schools. She was always watching for some 
 bright girl to teach. It must be said that often her high 
 hopes of them were disappointed, owing to their circum- 
 stances or their lack of application, but she always recovered 
 from the shock and was ready to adopt the next promising- 
 looking pupil who presented herself. 
 
"THE NEW WASHERWOMAN'S DAUGHTER.* 59 
 
 CHAPTER VII. . 
 
 1 'THE NEW WASHERWOMAN'S DAUGHTER." 
 
 I ^REDERICA sat this morning at the piano, carelessly 
 \ running over some German airs. Presently she crossed 
 the room to where her cousin sat, and taking up a book, said: 
 
 "Well, shall we finish the book this morning? I am dis- 
 posed to read if you care to listen. " 
 
 The lady glanced at the clock. * ' I think not, thank . you. 
 I must stop directly and prepare Oscar's favorite pudding for 
 dinner. He looked worried about something this morning; I 
 must do something to at least show him that I am sym- 
 pathetic. " 
 
 "O, you practical soul!" laughed Frederica, "the idea of 
 comforting the good man with a pudding! " 
 
 "Well, it isn't the pudding exactly that comforts him, but 
 the feeling for his vexations. I have known pastry to prove 
 a pretty effectual comforter," she replied pleasantly. 
 
 She put aside her scarf and went out into the court. The 
 next moment she opened the door and said: 
 
 "Frederica, here is your new washerwoman's daughter 
 with the clothes. " 
 
 Frederica stepped out into the upper corridor and asked 
 the girl to follow her to her room. Mercedes, for it was she, 
 followed her into the spacious, handsome room; with its pic- 
 tures and pretty, graceful ornaments it looked like fairy land 
 to her. The clothes were counted, the money was paid, and 
 they passed out again into the corridor. Frederica had been 
 talking kindly all the time to the girl. Now she plucked a 
 geranium and gave it to her, saying, "You look tired, child." 
 The next moment Mercedes' eyes fell on the book which 
 Frederica had laid on a table as she passed to her room. It 
 was Altamirano's "Cuentos de Invierno" (Whiter Tales). 
 
60 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 She had heard of it and had longed to read it. Eagerness 
 flashed from her face; she made a step toward the table and 
 put out her hand to grasp it, then remembering, she stopped. 
 
 "Do you like to read, dear? " asked Frederica. 
 
 ' ' O, yes, Senora, very much. " 
 
 "Have you ever been to school? " 
 
 "No, Senora, I only learned at home by myself." 
 
 "Did you ever read a book? " asked Frederica, wishing to 
 continue the conversation. 
 
 ' * O yes, Senora, I have read Don Quixote three times, and 
 some parts of it a great many tunes. And I have read the 
 History of Mexico three times," replied Mercedes, feeling 
 considerable pride in her achievements. * 'And besides them, " 
 she added, with a visible loss of interest, "I have read the 
 mass book, but I didn't read it but once. " 
 
 The lady repressed a smile. "Why do you not go to 
 school? " she asked. 
 
 The girl's face clouded. * * I can't go to school. I have to 
 stay at home and work." 
 
 "But your mother ought to send you to school." 
 
 "My mother is dead. I live with my aunt, and she says 
 the priests say it would be better for the common people not 
 to know how to read," she said, summoning all her courage, 
 but still feeling that she was guilty of high treason. "And 
 besides that," she added in the hopeless tone of the poor, 
 "my father can't afford to buy me suitable clothes to wear to 
 school. " 
 
 * 'Ask your father to let you come here and study with me, 
 and we will see if we can't arrange it all. " 
 
 The pretty court down below, with its roses and geraniums, 
 became suddenly indistinct before the girl's eyes, and she 
 laid her hand on the table to steady herself. Presently she 
 said, in a choking voice: 
 
 ' ' I give you many thanks, Sefiora, but I don't think anything 
 can be done," and if she had dared, she would have added to 
 the quaint Spanish way of thanking her, the pretty Spanish 
 act of kissing her hand. 
 
61 
 
 "Well, ask your father about it, and never mind what your 
 aunt says, and come and tell me to-morrow morning," said 
 Frederica as Mercedes took up her basket to go home. 
 
 " I will, Sefiora. Many thanks. Adios." 
 
 "Adios, Mercedes." 
 
 And the girl went out into the hot and dusty street, dazed 
 at the good fortune which had been offered her, but not at all 
 hopeful. But it was certain that whatever came of it this 
 Dona Frederica would be to her always almost an object of 
 worship. "She is as beautiful as an angel," she said. " She 
 looks like an angel, with her blue eyes and yellow hair; and 
 her voice is sweet, as their's must be. How God must love 
 her!" 
 
 I wonder if there is not in all noble souls a strong inclina- 
 tion to hero worship! 
 
 And Frederica, what of her? It was not a new experience 
 to her, as I have said. But this girl's dark face and bright 
 eyes, with the eager, hungry soul looking out of them, had 
 attracted her more than any other had ever done. 
 
 But dinner came, and then visitors, so there was no time 
 to think of her new protege" till she sat in her own room, 
 after supper. She had to admit the truth of what Gretchen 
 had laughingly said; she ivas the shabbiest specimen she had 
 selected yet. But her face was bright, and then that look in 
 her face when she saw the book ! How she had wished for 
 some girl to educate who had a real enthusiasm for learning! 
 She would be to her like a daughter; perhaps God had sent 
 her this girl. She, too, thought of God, and in a simple, 
 natural way. Perhaps they would do each other good. Her 
 lips quivered and her eyes were a little moist. 
 
 She arose quickly and went to a wardrobe. She took out 
 two or three summer dresses of her own. Her womanly taste 
 told her what dainty dresses could be made of them for 
 Mercedes; and she would teach her to braid her black hair 
 prettily and tie jt with a bright ribbon. Think of the girl 
 dressed so, and bending over her books! She would be 
 almost pretty ! And think of her turning that bright, olive 
 face towards her's, flushed with love and gratitude! 
 
62 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 * * Such extravagant notions ! " something said to her. ' ' She 
 will soon lose all interest in the lessons, and go back of her 
 own accord, as so many others have done, to the prospect of 
 making tortillas and cigarettes all her life." 
 
 She had no idea of spoiling Mercedes by dressing her up 
 very fine at first. A cheap, but neatly made dress, a new 
 scarf and some shoes would be sufficient; and she would not 
 waste those on her unless it really seemed that she was going 
 to study. 
 
 At the same hour a storm of words raged fiercely between 
 Mercedes' father and her aunt. The latter, of course, was 
 violently opposed to her following a course which, she was 
 sure, would only encourage her in "idleness" and indifference 
 to the Church. The former had seen in the offer of the Ger- 
 man lady a gleam of hope for his daughter and had deter- 
 mined that she should avail herself, if possible, of every ad- 
 vantage which should be offered her. 
 
 The girl sat meanwhile on a chair near the door, scarcely 
 daring to breathe, her hands tightly clasped, her eyes big 
 with terror, feeling sure she made more trouble in the world 
 than she would ever be worth. 
 
 At last Atanacio, tired of the contest, sprang from the table, 
 seized the whip with which he had all day been minding the 
 cattle out of the cornfield and proceeded to chastize his step- 
 sister. Such occurrences as this were not so uncommon either 
 in his house or in those of his neighbors as they should have 
 been. 
 
 After she was silenced he ordered them to go to bed. Her 
 father has gamed his point and Mercedes rejoiced; but with 
 trembling. She would have to suffer from her aunt for all 
 the instruction which she would receive from her benefactress, 
 but any price seemed small to her. 
 
 The next morning her father told her with a determined 
 air in the presence of her aunt, to go and tell Dofia Frederica 
 that he should be grateful for any instruction she would give 
 her. 
 
 After an hour's talk with her new teacher the arrangement 
 
"THE NEW WASHERWOMAN'S DAUGHTER." 63 
 
 was made that she should spend two hours each morning at 
 the house of the latter reciting and reading. Then Mercedes 
 went home to the tasks of the day; and Prederica put on her 
 hat and gloves and went down the street to the little book 
 store and bought a small grammar and arithmetic. She had 
 a geography in the house which would answer, and instead 
 of a reading book she would have her read selections from 
 Spanish authors, a good many of which she had bought for 
 her own use. 
 
 It happened that on her way home she passed a French 
 store and saw lying on the counter a pile of pretty dress goods 
 from the factory in the town; she passed resolutely; but 
 turned back and selected a dress and a neat, dark scarf and a 
 pair of shoes, reflecting, meanwhile on her own weakness and 
 on what Gretchen would say. 
 
 "But of course I can't have her coming to the house as my 
 pupil in that garb," she said to herself by way of justification. 
 
 Before the close of the next day the dress was finished. 
 Unlike most of the dresses for girls of her class the waist 
 and skirt were alike. The universal scarf or shawl being so 
 convenient to cover defects, there is much carelessness in all 
 ranks on this point. 
 
 Prederica had put ruffles of red hamburg about the neck 
 and sleeves. 
 
 "I want it to look nice you know", she said, "for I intend 
 she shall leave off the scarf as soon as she enters the room. " 
 She was very fastidious, this Dofia Prederica! 
 . "O, I expect you will get her a hat before another week 
 passes, and then she won't need the scarf at all," replied 
 Gretchen with a smile. 
 
 ' ' No, she shall never wear a hat if I can have my way about 
 it. I very much admire the custom here of going with the 
 head uncovered, or covered only with the scarf or shawl or 
 mantilla when they are necessary. In fact I have never seen 
 any covering for the head which is more graceful and beautiful 
 than the black lace mantillas; and then think of the expense and 
 worry that is saved by going without hats! Did I ever tell you 
 
<64 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 that I thought before I came here, that the Mexican ladies 
 covered their faces all but their eyes with the mantillas? " 
 
 "You got that idea from stories of Spain, I suppose." 
 
 In a day or two Frederica gave the dress, shoes, scarf and 
 other neat garments to Mercedes, telling her to wear them 
 when she came for her lessons. She carried them home and 
 displayed them timidly to her aunt and father. The former 
 was silent and sullen, the latter, more pleased than he cared 
 to show. 
 
 After the duties of the following morning were over she 
 arrayed herself in the new clothing. She wondered how she 
 looked, but with the sullen eyes of her aunt on her she could 
 not even try to see herself in the tiny looking-glass. Her 
 father had made excuses for lingering about the house much 
 longer than usual that morning and Mercedes believed in the 
 depths of her fluttering heart that his object was to see her 
 hi her new dress. At first he pretended not to hear her as 
 she gathered up her books to start, but presently he looked 
 around and there flashed into his eyes a look of tenderness 
 which his daughter immediately added to her other precious 
 recollections. Both he and she were embarrassed. He said 
 nothing, but pretending that he had only turned to get his 
 hat, took it up and left the house. 
 
 She put on her scarf and trembling with the dread of en- 
 countering the neighbors' eyes passed through the court. 
 There and in the street she heard from women and girls such 
 comments as, "Look at Mercedes Gonzales!" "O, how fine!" 
 "Isn't that Mercedes Gonzales? I hardly knew her!" There 
 was no unkindness meant; but the remarks cut to the quick. 
 To the day of her death she remembered that walk through 
 the court of her home and the street on which she lived as 
 one of the severest ordeals of her life. 
 
 Frederica, however, had little womanly ways, such as 
 leaving her alone in the room now and then for a few minutes 
 that she might become familiar with her surroundings, and 
 with her own reflection in the mirror. As the weeks and 
 months went by, besides coming to feel easy in that fairy 
 
"THE NEW WASHERWOMAN'S DAUGHTER." 65 
 
 land of a room, and the neat clothing which her teacher pro- 
 vided her, her progress in her studies was gratifying. 
 
 She entered more and more into the meaning of her text- 
 books as she advanced from one to another. She felt the 
 pleasure of learning, the delight of bringing order out of the 
 chaos of her ideas, the joy of finding that things which had 
 seemed complicated and difficult were simple, the happiness 
 of f eeling that in learning more and more of the works of the 
 Creator, one is becoming better acquainted with that great 
 Being himself. 
 
 As she imbibed more of the refined ideas of her teacher and 
 of the household to which she belonged, the coarseness and 
 hardness of the life in her own home became even more dis- 
 tasteful to her. Her newly acquired conceptions of liberty 
 and justice, and her faint hope of escaping sometime from 
 that miserable existence made her bear with less stoicism 
 than formerly the continual annoyances with which her aunt 
 harassed her. She occasionally, now, flashed up into fierce 
 resistance and wrath. 
 
 Of course if I were telling you a story of an ideal girl I 
 should have nothing but saintly virtues to describe; but I am 
 telling you of a girl in whom all the passions of human nature 
 were very strong. All I can say in her justification is that 
 after each of these not very frequent fits of indignation, when 
 she turned on her aunt with the f eeling of a wild beast at 
 bay, and answered her with hot words of reproach, she always 
 suffered from attacks of repentance, made more torturing by 
 the reflection that her greater advantages ought to make her 
 more forbearing. 
 
 But when she had laid aside the shabby clothing, and ar- 
 rayed in dainty garments, had turned her face toward the 
 house of her teacher, her feelings might well have been ex- 
 pressed hi the words which the young king of Israel wrote in 
 the golden days of his youth: "The winter is past, the rain 
 is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth, the tune of 
 the singing of the birds is come." With Frederica she was 
 gentle and gay, bright and talkative. 
 5 
 
66 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "THAT RELIGION OF RELIGIONS." 
 
 e *T N HERE was one person with whom Mercedes was happier 
 ^ than with her teacher. From the very day on which she 
 received the first lesson there was a change hi her father's 
 manner toward her; and it became more marked as the months 
 passed. He showed a gentleness and deference toward her 
 that was touching. She became familiar with subjects of 
 which he was ignorant. But he listened with the greatest 
 interest as she told him with enthusiasm of the poems of 
 Lope de Vega, and of Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz, of the musical 
 sentences of Altamirano, the exquisite humor of Ochoa or 
 the 4 ' eternal ideas " and ' ' infinite sadnesses " of the ' ' golden 
 mouthed" Castelar. 
 
 On Sundays after the early mass, on great religious or 
 national feast days he sometimes asked her to walk with him 
 on the hills. Now they went to the little chapel for the 
 view, now to the Secacion, a steep hill back of the town. 
 
 One afternoon, about three years after Mercedes' first 
 acquaintance with Frederica, they stood together on this hill. 
 She was much taller than she was that morning when she 
 went to the house of her teacher to receive her first lesson; 
 and her longer dresses, and her glossy black hair arranged 
 in a knot at the back of her head, gave her the appearance of 
 a young lady. 
 
 Looking up from the streets of the town one might have 
 seen the two figures sharply outlined, standing like statues 
 against the blue sky. 
 
 "Papa," said the daughter, after panting a little from the 
 hard climbing to the top, and looking up fondly into the face 
 which had grown rapidly older in the last three years, "are 
 you tired? It seems to me you get tired much more quickly 
 now than you used to do." 
 
"THAT R&LIGION OF RELIGIONS." 67 
 
 "Yes, daughter," he replied with affected indifference, and 
 turning away his head, "I am growing older, you know." 
 
 "And very rapidly, from exposure and hard work," thought 
 Mercedes, with a sharp pang. But she added aloud, ' ' Dona 
 Frederica says that I am getting along well with my studies. 
 I do hope I think of it all the time that some day I can 
 teach or do something of that kind and make money and pay 
 those terrible debts. And then you shall rest and I will work 
 for you. We will have our home, just you and I. Just think 
 how nice it will be, with the floor swept clean and the 
 chairs and tables shining with paint. And you shall have 
 your merienda of chocolate every afternoon, and your l desayuno 
 every morning, just like a Seflor." 
 
 "Ah, child," he replied gloomily, "there is little hope of 
 paying the debts. It is best not to build too fine air castles. " 
 
 The girl knew it, but she was young and hopeful, and as 
 her eyes wandered off to the hills the momentary sinking of 
 heart was forgotten. 
 
 Her father aroused her from her reverie by saying abruptly, 
 as if following a train of thought: 
 
 "Mercedes, I don't want you ever to confess to the priests. 
 I don't want you ever even to speak to one of them if you can 
 help it; for they are very wicked men. But you can go to 
 mass if you want to; your mother always went." 
 
 She noticed that he never said whether her mother con- 
 fessed, and she was always careful not to ask. 
 
 "Well, papa, I am a Catholic; of course, I'm that," she 
 replied, her eyes f easting on the marvelous effects of light 
 and shade on the opposite mountains, ' ' you could not imagine 
 me becoming a disciple of Martin Luther's, could you?" she 
 added with a gay laugh. 
 
 ' ' But I don't believe that images can work miracles, nor 
 that the priests can forgive sins; that is, that they can for- 
 give them as a great many people believe they can," she 
 explained, a mystical look coming into her eyes. 
 
 ' ' Of course, they can't forgive sins, Mercedes. Would God 
 
 l Note. A light meal of chocolate and bread which gentlemen and ladies 
 take before rising. 
 
68 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 give such power as that to the worst of his creatures that 
 ever walked the earth? " 
 
 "But you know, papa, that the Lord did say to St. Peter, 
 the first pope of Rome, * I will give unto thee the keys of the 
 kingdom of heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth 
 shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on 
 earth shall be loosed in heaven.' ' 
 
 "Yes, I know the priests say that, and I suppose they got 
 it, as they say they did, from the Sacred Scriptures they 
 sometimes mention. But they are such liars one never knows 
 what to believe of what they say. And they take care that 
 nobody else sees those Sacred Scriptures. Perhaps if we 
 knew all that is said in them on the subject it would not 
 mean what it appears to when they quote it to us." 
 
 1 ' But I don't believe what they teach. I believe in ' that 
 religion of religions which is Castelar's.' ' 
 
 This is the form of Catholicism which, it seems, is pro- 
 fessed by most of the educated men of the country who have 
 not rejected religion altogether. 
 
 "And what does he teach about religion? " asked Atanacio, 
 repressing a smile at this high-sounding announcement of his 
 daughter's creed. 
 
 ' ' He speaks with scorn of the wickedness and greed of the 
 priesthood, and he compares Catholic Italy with Protestant 
 Switzerland, and certainly not by way of complimenting the 
 influence of Catholicism in Italy. But he does not like the 
 Protestants, for all that. He says that ' the pagan religion 
 will preserve the conscience more alive and its jurisdiction 
 over one's life better than Protestant pietism. ' 
 
 * ' He speaks with disdain of the doctrine of the sinlessness 
 of the Virgin Mary, and with withering contempt of that of 
 the infallibility of the pope. He says that in Rome * pagan- 
 ism has been transformed and not destroyed, ' and he goes on 
 to show how a great many ceremonies and observances of 
 the Catholic Church are only a continuation of those of the 
 heathen Romans. He says that 'hell is a pagan creation, 
 and the demons are the creation of magic, that ' the apotheo- 
 
THAT RELIGION OF RELIGIONS." 69 
 
 - 
 
 sis of the heroes has been replaced by the canonization of 
 the saints, ' that revelations were not made to the Jews alone, 
 that the sybil of Cumas conceived the idea of the coming of 
 the Messiah in the very days in which Daniel was counting 
 on his fingers the weeks of years which must pass before the 
 fulfillment of that prophecy. He says that Virgil foretold the 
 coming of Christ as well as Isaiah, and that 'Athens with her 
 arts, Rome with her right, Alexandria with her science, have 
 contributed as much to Christian revelation as Jerusalem 
 with her God. ' And he says that revelations have not ceased. 
 I don't understand it all, of course, but it is all very mystical 
 and beautiful, and all clothed in language as poetic and gor- 
 geous as a sunset." 
 
 "Well, that may all be very fine, but it sounds to me more 
 like the talk of a heathen than of a Christian." 
 
 ' ' O no, he is a Catholic, but not like these common Catho- 
 lics, you know. I don't think he believes the priests can for- 
 give sins as they IJelieve it. At least he tells scornfully of a 
 priest whom he saw sitting in a church in Rome, forgiving 
 the sins of the people who knelt before him by 'giving each a 
 tap on the head with a staff, ' as if he were fishing on dry 
 land.' And he says, though he is a Catholic, that 'society, 
 science and life travel one road, and Catholicism another com- 
 pletely opposite. ' I don't understand it all, as I said, but I love 
 to read his books for their eloquence. I have read some 
 parts of them a great many times. He writes very beauti- 
 fully of the blessed Virgin, and his thoughts of her are con 
 nected with the most precious memories of his childhood and 
 with 'the sweet face of his mother.' You should read his 
 description of the singing of the Miserere in St. Peters. The 
 candles are all extinguished or hidden, and the white statues 
 seem in the fading daylight to start from their places, as the 
 music, solemn and penetrating, resounds under the great 
 dome and among the high arches. It must be sublime! " and 
 her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke. In her lone- 
 liness she was glad to find some one to whom she could talk 
 of her favorite books, some one whom she could trust not to 
 
70 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 % 
 
 laugh at her, no matter how ridiculous her flights. Her 
 spirit was still going up and down, you see, seeking rest and 
 finding none. 
 
 It was a very fine religion which she had adopted, but 
 would it stand by her in the day of trial? 
 
 And the day of trial was at hand. A few days after this 
 walk on the hill Atanacio came home one night later than 
 usual, looking so weak and pale that his daughter sprang 
 toward him with the cry: "O, papa, what is the matter?" 
 
 ''I'm very sick, daughter. Let me lie down as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 His pallet was quickly made and he lay down. He yielded 
 without resistance to Mercedes' proposition to send for a 
 doctor. Mordicai was absent, so she ran to ask the husband 
 of Cipriana to go for a physician. 
 
 Before he arrived the sufferer had told them, as his breath, 
 shortened by pain would allow, that he had become over- 
 heated, running after cattle which had gotten into the corn- 
 field, and while he was in that condition a sudden rain had 
 come up and wet him thoroughly. 
 
 There are in Mexico no fences, and the cattle which are 
 allowed to run in the country are kept out by the laborers 
 whose business it is to stand guard around the fields. This 
 is a more economical arrangement than the building of 
 fences, as, notwithstanding the fact that the northern part of 
 Mexico is thinly settled, men are more numerous than trees. 
 
 The physician pronounced the disease pneumonia. He 
 returned every day only to find the patient worse and the 
 daughter nearer wild with distress. One evening she slipped 
 out after him and spoke to him in the court: 
 
 "Doctor, my father is very sick, isn't he?" she said, mak- 
 ing a great effort to control her emotion. 
 
 "Yes, daughter," he replied, looking at her pityingly. 
 
 "Oh, Doctor, can't you do anything for him? " 
 
"THAT RELIGION OP RELIGIONS." 71 
 
 ' ' All that can be done now is to send for the priest. Poor 
 child," he added, "he is all you have in the world." 
 
 Is there a nation in the world, I wonder, in which the 
 physicians these men who see so much of the awful suffer- 
 ing which sickness and death bring to human beings have 
 not tender hearts. 
 
 Mercedes gazed at him in agonized silence till she fully 
 comprehended the terrible meaning of his words, then she 
 gasped: 
 
 "Oh! Doctor, have you told him?" 
 
 "Yes," he said gently; and then casting about in his mind 
 for some word of consolation, and lighting on a sentence 
 which he had heard quoted by deathbeds, he said, "Remem- 
 ber that the Lord gave and the Lord takes away." 
 
 Mercedes looked at him blankly for a moment, and then 
 turned and went into Cipriana's house. No one was there, 
 and she dropped on her knees by a chair and sobbed: 
 
 "O blessed Virgin, spare him. O most holy Mother of 
 God, only consolation of mankind, intercede for us ! " 
 
 She arose, striving to calm herself, and went into the room 
 where her father lay. More than a dozen sympathetic neigh- 
 bors were gathered there. As she entered they made way for 
 her to pass to the sick man's pallet. Maria de los Angeles was 
 by his side, noisy and selfish in her grief. 
 
 "Oh! Atanacio, what shall I do," she was saying, "where 
 shall we live when you are gone? And my poor Mordicai away 
 from home! O, what shall I do! What shall I do! And your 
 poor sool! your poor soul will be lost, for you never would 
 have nothing to do with the Holy Mother Church. Oh! 
 Atanacio, let me send for the priest, so he may prepare you 
 to die. Well, let me put this scapulary on you, so the Father 
 will send the holy angels to ta*ke you to heaven," she went on 
 in a persuasive tone, as the patient shook his head at the 
 mention of the priest. 
 
 Mercedes knelt by the pallet and gently pushed away her 
 aunt's hand, in which she held the scapulary, some gray flannel 
 scraps an inch square on which were some stitches in woolen 
 
72 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 thread, saying: "No, aunt, no, don't trouble him with them 
 now. " 
 
 The sick man's eyes had been wandering restlessly about 
 the room till they had rested on his daughter. The awful 
 agony of a soul that looks into the darkness beyond death 
 had seized him, but still even in that supreme moment, he 
 felt that it was necessary to speak of something else: 
 
 "Mercedes," he gasped hoarsely, and with many pauses, 
 * ' when I'm go when I'm not here any longer to take care of 
 you, ask Dofia Frederica to find you something to do. And 
 tell her I blessed on my death-bed for her kindness to you." 
 
 Mercedes thanked God that he did not know that her aunt 
 had said to her during these last terrible days that ' * if any- 
 thing should happen to her father she would have to sell 
 vegetables in the market for a living. " 
 
 "And, daughter," he continued, tightening his grasp on 
 her hand, "the debts, never mind the debts. Don't ever try 
 to pay them. A young, helpless girl could never do it. And 
 they have been paid over and over in the lives of your kin- 
 dred." 
 
 His eyes closed and his face relaxed from exhaustion, or 
 perhaps it was one of those sudden changes that we have all 
 noticed on the faces of the dying, a sure presage of the approach 
 of the last enemy. An awful anxiety weighed on the daugh- 
 ter's mind compared with which the thought of what was to 
 become of her was of little importance. And the tune was 
 so short; she must speak, if he would only awake again from 
 that stupor! 
 
 Presently he opened his eyes again. He was restless and 
 fumbled with the covers and talked incoherently. But when 
 his eyes found her he grew calm again. 
 
 " Oh ! papa, " she sobbed tremulously, ' * are you going alone? 
 Have you no hope of salvation? " 
 
 "Do you believe there is a God, Mercedes? " he asked, his 
 face twitching convulsively. 
 
 "Oh! yes, papa, I believe there is a God." 
 
 "But you don't believe there is a hell. You said so the 
 other day. " 
 
" THAT RELIGION OP RELIGIONS." 73 
 
 1 ' Oh ! I don't know, papa, I don't know. There may be a 
 hell. Oh! papa, ask the Blessed Virgin to plead with her 
 Son for you. Look at the crucifix, papa, and plead for mercy. "" 
 Maria had placed a crucifix on a table at the foot of the pal- 
 let, with two lighted candles before it. He turned his eyes, 
 toward the crucifix but no hope brightened them. Again he 
 fumbled at the covers and talked incoherently. When he 
 was calm again the daughter asked: 
 
 ' ' Papa, may I send for the priest that he may give you ab- 
 solution and the extreme unction? " 
 
 4 'There is no hope in that, daughter." But he added, as 
 he noticed her agonized face, ' ' if it will be any comfort to 
 you you may send for him. " 
 
 It was about an hour later when the priest arrived. The 
 bystanders saw at a glance that he had been drinking and 
 that he was in a bad humor. They made room for him to 
 pass and he stalked to the foot of the pallet, and stood look- 
 ing sullenly at the sick man. 
 
 "Papa," said Mercedes, bending over her father, who had 
 been asleep or in a stupor for some time, * ' Papa, the Father 
 is here. " 
 
 He opened his eyes and looked at her intelligently a mo- 
 ment, then turned them on the figure in the long black robes. 
 The sensual face was quite familiar to him. 
 
 "Yes," said the priest, in a taunting tone, "you managed 
 to live without me but when you come to die you are not 
 above sending for me. " 
 
 The dying man was far out in the waters of the Jordan, 
 with the terror in his soul of the ' * something" which awaited 
 him on the other side, but the insulting words reached him. 
 Something like his former spirit flashed into his eyes; he 
 raised his head and glared at the insolent face before him as 
 he replied in a hoarse voice: "You go home to your wine. 
 I will confess to God." 
 
 He dropped back on his pallet exhausted. The Reverend 
 Father strode out of the room well pleased to be relieved 
 from the performance of a duty for which he was to receive 
 
74 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 no money. He was followed by the muttered indignation of 
 the men and the wails of the women. 
 
 Atanacio did confess to God as that can be done by a dying 
 man racked with pain, delirious at times, and with the terror 
 of death and of the judgment in his soul. What a place is 
 a death-bed to prepare to meet God! Far be it from me to 
 say that he found salvation. It is doubtful whether he had 
 ever known, even in his most rational moments, enough of 
 the plan of salvation to save a soul. To him Christ had al- 
 ways been represented as an angry judge; and he had always 
 heard that it was only through the intercession of the Virgin 
 Mary that any good could come to mankind. As an object of 
 honor and< worship she was placed above the Trinity. Every 
 day in Mexico people are going into eternity hopeless, con- 
 fused, lost forever, because of these teachings of the Church 
 of Rome. 
 
 An hour after the departure of tho priest he aroused from 
 the stupor in which he had lain for a few minutes and tight- 
 ening his grasp on his daughter's hand, called feebly: . 
 
 "Mercedes." 
 
 She bent over him and caught his words as his stiffening 
 lips uttered them: 
 
 "Adios. You must not grieve for me. DofLa Frederica 
 will" but he was gone. 
 
WE ALL HAVE A MOTHER THE EARTH." 75 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 -Victor Hugo. 
 
 PRESENTLY Cipriana led Mercedes gently away and the 
 neighbors of the dead man prepared him for burial. When 
 she returned after daylight to the room the lifeless body 
 dressed in clean, coarse, white clothing had been extended on a 
 rude bed or scaffold lent by one of the neighbors. The crucifix 
 and some images had been placed on the bed and there were 
 two lighted candles at the foot and two at the head. 
 
 No religious services were to be thought of, for a funeral 
 would cost more than so poor a family could pay, and the 
 Catholic priests of Mexico are not shepherds who administer 
 ^consolation to the members of their flocks " without money 
 and without price." The confession and the extreme unction 
 
 Note. I attended the funeral of a boy whose mother, though well con- 
 nected, was unable to pay the priest for his services. His presence, his 
 mumbled incantations, so to speak, the holy water and other things of 
 the kind, would have been a great consolation to her. 
 
 " Why is the Senor Cure (the cure or curate, the principal priest) not 
 here? " I asked of a sister-in-law of the bereaved mother, the wife of a 
 relative of the priest. 
 
 "O, poor Carolina could not pay him, you know." 
 
 They did the best they could without him. There was an abundance 
 of crucifixes, images, candles, and flowers in vases large and small, and 
 lying loose about the white bed on which lay the marble form. The 
 president of the college, who was also the superintendent of the public 
 school to which the dead child belonged, came, bringing all his pupils 
 marching, and each carrying his flag of the national colors. They filed 
 into the room and stood around the bier. 
 
 A pine coffin, unusually deep, and covered with cheap pale blue 
 worsted, stood by the bier. It was not lined, and as I looked at the 
 unpainted boards I shuddered at the thought that the form of my little 
 English pupil was to be placed In that hard resting place. But I was 
 mistaken. They filled a third of its depth with wheat bran, put a snowy 
 
76 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 are free, but that is because the priests expect to be paid for 
 them when they are paid for the funeral and the masses which 
 are to follow. 
 
 The lonely watcher on the Orilla del Agua sat by the humble 
 bier, her black shawl falling over her statue like face, her 
 eyes wide open and tearless, fixed on the lifeless features be- 
 fore her. Kind neighbors came and went but she knew little 
 of it. Cipriana's husband notified the civil judge of Atanacio's 
 death and made the arrangements for his burial. The only 
 survivor, a young daughter, the judge was informed, was too 
 poor to pay either the $.25 asked by the law of the poor for 
 the registering of a death or the $.50 for the grave; so, accord- 
 ing to the law, he had them for nothing. 
 
 At four o'clock in the afternoon they brought in the box in 
 which they were to carry the body to the cemetery. It was 
 not a coffin it was the andas a pine box with rods on each 
 side by which to carry it. It was kept in the cemetery for 
 the purpose of conveying in it to the grave the bodies of those 
 whose friends were to poor to afford coffins. 
 
 Mercedes saw them lay him in the andas and then as she 
 bent over him. and laid her face against his cold face a wail 
 
 sheet over it and then laid the little body on the soft bed. They put in 
 the banner which he had been accustomed to carry in the processions of 
 his school fellows on the great national holidays, on the 5th of May and 
 the 16th of September, and then filled up the coffin with white flowers, 
 leaving visible only the little white face. A young man of the college 
 made a speech composed for the occasion, telling in glowing terms of 
 the superlative virtues of their young friend, and assuring his com- 
 panions that because of his good conduct he was now enjoying indescrib- 
 able happiness at the right hand of God; to which happiness they them- 
 selves would attain if they would follow in his footsteps. 
 
 After that was over and the relatives and friends had taken a last 
 look, the coffin was placed in a hearse, two boys, one on either side of 
 the vehicle, took each in his hand an end of the long, pale blue ribbon 
 which was attached to the lid of the coffin, and the hearse moved slowly 
 through the streets to the cemetery followed by the gentlemen and boys. 
 Women do not often attend burials in this part of Mexico. Without 
 further ceremony the coffin was placed in the grave, the earth was 
 thrown in and heaped up and rounded into a mound like those which 
 are so sadly familiar to us all. 
 
"WE ALL HAVE A MOTHER THE EARTH." 77 
 
 of anguish broke from her lips which brought tears to the 
 yes of all the bystanders. She wondered vaguely if the sep- 
 aration would kill her, and perhaps wished that it might. 
 One of the women lifted her up and led her gently away, and 
 the men, closing the box slightly, lifted it on their shoulders 
 and bore it through the doorway, and through the court, and 
 through the great front entrance, and along the street to the 
 cemetery, to the department for the poor. 
 
 There a grave had been prepared, a grave which appeared 
 to be too short by a foot for the form of the man they bore. 
 But at the bottom there was an excavation to receive the 
 head so that the clods might not fall on the face. They lifted 
 the body from the anda,s, lowered it, and placed the head in 
 this excavation. This is not always done gently, but these 
 men did it' so, remembering, each of them, that his turn was 
 coming, and that when it came he might be as poor as his 
 neighbor; thinking, too, that they would tell how it was done 
 to the young girl at home. Then the clods fell. There was 
 none of that fearful resounding of clods on the boards that 
 has torn so many hearts, but a dull, low sound that was more 
 terrible. The daughter was at home, but her spirit had gone 
 every step of the way by the side of the andas and now it 
 stood by and heard with shrieks the falling of the clods. At 
 length the task was done, rudely done, but kindly; and they 
 took up the andas and laid it down hi its place by the side of 
 the adobe wall of the Campo Santo. 
 
 In that grave Atanacio would be permitted to rest for five 
 years; then his bones could be digged up and thrown in a 
 pile with those of other people; and the grave could be used 
 for the interment of another body. 
 
 ' ' That way of burying is not so common as it was a few 
 years ago, " said a member of our church as he diligently made 
 cigarettes. "It seldom happens now that even the very 
 poorest are buried without coffins. My first wife died three 
 years ago, you know; I thought I should have to bury her 
 without a coffin as I had had to quit work for some tune on 
 account of her sickness, but my cousin happened to come and 
 
78 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 he lent me $4.00 to buy a coffin. No," he continued quietly 
 in answer to my question, * ' the excavations for the head are 
 not always made; that is an act of special kindness." 
 
 "But don't they put boards or anything over the body? 
 They don't just throw the earth in on the body? " 
 
 ' ' Well, those who can afford it put a sheet over the body, 
 or at least a handkerchief over the face. But if they hav'nt 
 those things what can they do? " 
 
 Let us talk of something else, dear friends. 
 
IN THE HOUSE OP HER FATHER'S MASTER. 79 
 
 CHAPTER X. . 
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 
 
 C T N HERE was no time for idle grief for Mercedes and her aunt; 
 1 they sat down after the last scene of the tragedy to make 
 cigarettes. Could they save enough from the daily food of the 
 family to pay for the rent of a house, little as it might be? 
 
 Her aunt's voice and all sounds seemed far off to Mercedes. 
 We all know, I suppose, what these tunes are, when the 
 spirit is benumbed or paralyzed with the sense of loss, when 
 there is no plan in the mind, no hope in the soul, when the 
 earth seems to stand still during that awful tune of the in- 
 voluntary and unconscious readjusting of our lives to sadly 
 changed circumstances. 
 
 The young girl's imagination sometimes pictured to her 
 the market where the coarse and poorly dressed women sat 
 on low chairs or on the stone pavement sewing and gossiping 
 with their vegetables spread out before them, the market 
 with all its uproar of voices crying the goods hi singsong 
 tones; but she seemed to have lost the power of suffering on 
 all but one subject. 
 
 The morning of the fourth day as they sat at their work 
 there was a knock at the door and Mercedes as she arose to 
 open it made the customary query, ' ' Who is it? " and received 
 the usual perspicuous answer, "I." Opening the door she 
 found there Frederica and a servant girl Forgetful of every- 
 thing but the presence of sympathy she caught her hand ex- 
 claiming: 
 
 "Oh, Dona Frederica!" 
 
 "My poor child!" said the lady, putting her arms around 
 her, ' I only reached home yesterday and I did not know it till 
 this morning." She had been out of town for two weeks. 
 
 She sat down and the girl knelt beside her and let the pent 
 
80 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 up tears flow freely. When she was calmer, Frederica would 
 have talked with her but for the garrulity of Maria de los 
 Angeles. Finally she arose to go exacting a promise from 
 Mercedes that she would go to her on the morrow. 
 
 "Something must be done," thought she as ,she returned 
 home. She thought of a plan which might possibly succeed, 
 and waited impatiently for the end of the siesta that afternoon 
 to try to put it into execution. 
 
 About four o'clock that afternoon she sat talking with Dofia 
 Flavia Salazar de Urbina, the lady whom we saw three years 
 ago at the chapel of the Holy Wood. 
 
 They sat in a room of medium size. The floor was made of 
 smooth black stone, oiled and polished to shining. The only 
 thing that detracted in the least from its beauty was the ir- 
 regular stripes of lighter-colored mortar with which they 
 were joined. Here and there were handsome, bright rugs. 
 One of these, a large one, lay in front of a sofa made of 
 polished cattle horns and upholstered with crimson rep. On 
 either end of the rug and facing each other sat a chair also 
 made of horns and upholstered with the same material. The 
 inside blinds of the large and deep window were open show- 
 big the shutters wooden at the bottom for about a foot and a 
 half and glass above. The light fell subdued and rosy through 
 shades of some gauzy, crimson stuff into which were woven 
 or embroidered straw colored cranes and great bugs and 
 flowers. Beyond the blinds were the slender iron bars that 
 protected the room from intruders from the street. Near 
 the window sat a round table with a rich brown cover. On 
 it was a large globe, a student's lamp and a newspaper or 
 two. Two or three well filled bookcases broke the monot- 
 ony of the walls. On the walls hung some maps and two 
 portraits in oil, one of a lady, the other of a gentleman. The 
 latter showed a dark, handsome, Spanish face, and penetrat- 
 ing eyes. The portrait of the lady was rosy and voluptuous. 
 It reminded one of the portrait of Nina da Rienzi in Rome as 
 it is described in ''The Last of the Roman Tribunes." Sub- 
 tracting some fifteen years from the age of the lady who was 
 
IN THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 81 
 
 talking with Frederica and we are sure we have the original of 
 this portrait; and the other is that of her husband. 
 
 It was here in this room that he sat in the evenings and 
 read his papers and letters,*before he joined in the parlor his 
 wife and children and any guests that might drop in. 
 
 Dona Flavia was Don Francisco's second wife. He had 
 thought himself a very fortunate man when, a widower with 
 seven children, he had won the rich, beautiful and amiable 
 belle of Guadalajara, the Senorita Flavia Salazar. Six times 
 had he and his present wife given joyful welcome to the wee 
 guests whose tiny fingers knocked at the doors of their hearts. 
 Of the two daughters who had been born to him in the time 
 of his first marriage, one had died, the other was in a convent 
 in France. 
 
 Somewhere in the house was an old but carefully kept 
 daguerreotype showing two handsome, happy young faces 
 pressed close together; and Don Francisco was accustomed 
 to tell his friends, with a smile as he looked at it, how he set 
 his heart on having the picture made that way, and how An- 
 tonia (his first wife) refused because she was ashamed, and 
 only yielded after many entreaties from himself. The bitter- 
 ness had gone out of his great loss and there remained only 
 pleasant memories. 
 
 The second wife was not less tenderly loved because he had 
 loved much the wife of his youth. But when her portrait, 
 which he had secretly had made, was presented to her on her 
 saint's day, the first after their marriage, he had hung beside 
 it, here in this room, a portrait of himself as he looked in the 
 days of his youth. It was with a pang as much for him as 
 for herself that Dofia Flavia noticed that. 
 
 Very tender were the ties between husband and wife and 
 parents and children. Often Don Francisco and Dofia Flavia, 
 sitting alone together, side by side talked of the good qual- 
 ities in their children; often and with tender looks they com- 
 mended them, and sometimes even in the presence of 
 strangers, for their loving attentions. 
 
 In the midst of his own children and of his children's chil- 
 6 
 
82 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 dren, beloved by all of them, Don Francisco dwelt like a pa- 
 triarch of old, like the head of a tribe, like a king in the army. 
 
 ' 'Yes, thank you," Dona Flavia was saying, "My sister 
 was better when we last heard from her than she was when 
 you saw her here as she went on to New York. The journey 
 was good for her, and especially the voyage. They relieved 
 our anxiety by telegraphing from New York and again from 
 Havre. The letter we have received only one yet was 
 written from Paris. My brother-in-law, Don Gregorio, wrote, 
 and he said that Emilia was so much better that they had de- 
 cided to leave the younger children with some nuns in a con- 
 vent while they went on to the Holy Land. Jose Maria was 
 going to spend some time in a university." 
 
 "When do they expect to return?" asked Frederica, so 
 busy with other thoughts and so anxious to find an oppor- 
 tunity to speak of the subject that filled her mind that she 
 was very much afraid she might betray a lack of interest by 
 making inopportune remarks. 
 
 ' ' I think they hav'nt much idea. They want the girls to 
 study French there a few months, and Emilia and Gregorio 
 will probably go to Baden-Baden to spend some time after 
 they return from Palestine. Jose Maria will not return with 
 them as he wishes to travel." 
 
 "He impressed me as quite an intelligent young gentleman. 
 He called to see us at your request, you remember, the last 
 time we were in Mexico. He will appreciate such advan- 
 tages." 
 
 ' ' Our family have always been fond of traveling, " modestly 
 replied Dofia Flavia. She not infrequently spoke of the tastes 
 and peculiarities of her family. "We have not seen Jose 
 Maria since he was a child. When we visited my sister in 
 Guadalajara he was always off at school, and when we were 
 in Mexico we always happened to miss him; he did not stop 
 to see us with the rest of the family as they went to Europe; 
 he went some months before them." 
 
 And so the conversation wandered on till at last Frederica, 
 despairing of finding a graceful opportunity to introduce the 
 
IN THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 83 
 
 subject she wished to speak of and yet dreaded, said humor- 
 ously, and, she was afraid, a little abruptly, after a pause in 
 the talk: 
 
 "Well, Flavia, I called to consult you about what dispo- 
 sition to make of one of my proteges." 
 
 "I shall be glad to help you if I can," replied the lady, 
 laughing. 
 
 ' ' You have heard me speak of a young girl whom I have 
 taught for about three years, and of the fine progress she 
 made, and of the pleasure she was to me in every way," 
 answered Prederica, instinctively praying to the First Cause 
 or some other invisible Power, whatever it might be called, 
 to give her the right words, and to incline the heart of her 
 friend to hear her favorably. 
 
 "Yes," said the listener, "I remember." 
 4 ' Well, her father, who by the way, was one of your husband's 
 peons, died the other day leaving her entirely alone, or worse, 
 for she is with his step- sister, a miserable old woman who 
 does not treat her well. She must, if I can possibly accom- 
 plish it, be separated from her and be put in the way of 
 making her own living. And I remembered," she continued 
 plunging along desperately, "that I had heard you say you 
 wanted a governess for your little fellows and I came around 
 to recommend this girl, Mercedes, as she is called. She is 
 quite young, it is true only seventeen but she is well qual- 
 ified, for she is bright and she has been quite studious. She 
 is a devoted Catholic, too. I assure you she is in every way 
 much above her class. It gives one a better opinion of the 
 common people to see one of them turn out so. " 
 
 "Y-e-s," replied the hostess, "it is very gratifying, of 
 course. But think of employing the daughter of a peon for 
 a teacher for the children! Blood will tell, Frederica, no 
 matter what appearances may be for the time. I might now, " 
 she added, evidently anxious to accommodate her friend, ' ' I 
 might find some plain sewing for her to do. But as to the 
 other, I should have to consult Francisco before I answered 
 you," and the look of perplexity slipped away from her face 
 at the thought. 
 
84 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 1 'Well,- here he is, ready to deliver his infallible judgment 
 on any question," said a hearty voice at the door, and Don 
 Francisco entered. He was a handsome, portly gentleman, 
 bearing well his sixty years. He was dressed in broadcloth 
 and held his silk hat in his hand. 
 
 ' ' Ah, here is our friend Frederica ! At your feet, Senorita, " 
 he continued, his face lighting pleasantly as he advanced to 
 shake hands with her. 
 
 "I kiss my hand to you, Sefior," replied the visitor with a 
 gracious bow. 
 
 Don Francisco sat down in one of the chairs in front of the 
 sofa. After a few general remarks were exchanged Frederica 
 said : 
 
 "You did come in at just the right time. I was trying to 
 persuade Flavia to take one of my proteges off my hands, and 
 she, like a good wife, said she must refer so important a ques- 
 tion to her husband. " Then she briefly repeated what she 
 had said to her hostess. When she had finished he said : 
 
 * ' The overseer was telling me to-day that one of the men 
 had died, she must be his daughter. He was a good work- 
 man, too, he said; he was sorry to lose him. Atanacio Gon- 
 zales, was that her father's name? " 
 
 "That was it," replied Frederica. 
 
 "He was very much in his debt, the overseer said; though 
 that is always the case with these peons; I suppose they can't 
 very well help it, they are so poor." 
 
 "Frederica says that she is quite a capable girl," put in 
 Dona Flavia. 
 
 " O, that is not to be doubted of a girl who was educated 
 by Frederica. She is like that old king who turned every 
 thing he touched to gold." Don Francisco was not inferior 
 to any of his countrymen in stately or graceful gallantries. 
 But he spoke sincerely when he complimented the fair Ger- 
 man. 
 
 The question was discussed at length and it was decided 
 that in deference to the opinions of their friend they would em 
 ploy Mercedes to teach the younger children and to do plain 
 
IN THE HOUSE OF HER~FATHER'S MASTER. 85 
 
 sewing. The salary, though small, would seem like a fortune to 
 the girl. In fact the generous hearts of Don Francisco and 
 Dofi a Flavia warmed no little toward the poor young creature 
 of whom their guest spoke so affectionately. 
 
 Her love for learning touched a responsive chord in the 
 heart of the former. Shrewd and successful business man 
 though he was, the making of money had never been a favor- 
 ite occupation. Not even in the discharge of the duties of 
 the high positions in political life to which his countrymen 
 called him had he forgotten the pleasure he had formerly 
 found in the reading of his favorite authors. So when his 
 wife remarked, ' * Since she is bright it really will be a pleas- 
 ure to help her, and especially as she is a daughter of one of 
 our workmen," Don Francisco added: 
 
 "Yes, we will see what we can do," then continued, "his 
 father and brothers served me, too, so the overseer told me, 
 and he said that Atanacio was the last one of the stock; I 
 suppose he did not take the daughter into account." 
 
 Don Francisco and his wife had early imbibed the idea that 
 there was ' * a great gulf fixed " between themselves and the 
 common people, and nothing had as yet occurred to convince 
 them that as ' ' face answers to face in the water brook " so 
 the hearts of rich to poor. 
 
 They were very kind indeed to their servants treating them 
 as good masters in the United States used to treat their slaves. 
 They paid them well, seeing to the comfort of their bodies, 
 gave them medicine in sickness, permitted them to exchange 
 work now and then, so that the chambermaid of one month 
 was the nurse of the following month and the nurse was the 
 chambermaid; and the ladies of the family had always in- 
 structed them in the Catholic religion being duly attentive to 
 an extract in their Catechism from a Bull of Pope Paul V. 
 in which he promises an indulgence of a hundred days for 
 each time they instruct their children and their servants in 
 the said Catechism. 
 
 But that was a very different thing from believing that a 
 peon could actually break away from his caste and become 
 
86 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 one of them; for he had the common blood in him, you know. 
 Still, Don Francisco reflected, no patriotic Mexican could 
 doubt that it was possible for some of the common people to 
 become very noble and useful, for some of the greatest 
 statesmen that Mexico had yet produced had belonged to the 
 common people. 
 
 "Well, really I have made quite a visit," said Frederica as 
 she at last arose to go. "I can't tell you Jiow grateful I am 
 to you both, nor how happy I shall be to tell the poor child 
 this good news to-morrow. " 
 
 ' ' The gratitude is on our side Frederica. You have fur- 
 nished us a governess, and besides that an opportunity to do 
 good to a fellow being," replied Don Francisco as he and 
 Dofia Flavia arose to accompany her to the street door. 
 
 Two weeks later Frederica and Mercedes sat with Dona 
 Flavia in a small room near the back of the first court in the 
 home of the latter. The window opened on the court in which 
 there were orange and lemon trees with golden fruit, shrubs, 
 flowers and vines, and in the center a fountain whose slender 
 jet of water fell back in sparkling show T ers. Over the glass 
 shutters some inexpensive lace was tacked closely. In one 
 corner sat a small iron bed, painted red. The flowers of the 
 crocheted counterpane were clearly outlined against the red 
 spread beneath. The pillows were long and narrow and 
 through the open work of the pillow-cases shone the red 
 covers. There was a wardrobe on one side, and there were 
 two corner tables on which were some inexpensive ornaments. 
 
 "I hope you will like your room," said Dofia Flavia kindly. 
 * 1 1 have taken pleasure in arranging it. You see I had hung 
 opposite your bed a picture of the Blessed Virgin and the 
 Holy Child so you will see it the last thing at night and the first 
 thing in the morning. I was very much pleased when 
 Frederica told me that you were a devoted Catholic. It really 
 is gratifying," she continued, turning to Frederica, " in these 
 times when heresy is spreading among the common people, 
 to find one who is truly devoted to the Holy Mother Church. " 
 
 She was not without the hope that her remarks might in- 
 
IN THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 87 
 
 fluence her elegant German friend, who, she knew, did not 
 observe the rites of the church as scrupulously as, in her 
 opinion, it behooved a gentle -woman to do. 
 
 " And heresy is being introduced among the people is it? " 
 Frederica replied quietly avoiding the word * ' common. " 
 
 "O, yes indeed. Francisco has relatives living in the 
 frontier along the Rio Grande and they write us that it is 
 quite common to hear of gatherings of the ignorant people 
 for the reading and explanation of the Sacred Scriptures. 
 Just think of their defying the church in that way ! There is 
 no telling what pernicious ideas they will get. And they are 
 even here in our own town teaching those dreadful heresies of 
 Martin Luther." 
 
 The fair-haired lady winced. She never spoke of the doc- 
 trines of the teacher of Wittenberg. Her feelings had be- 
 come more kind towards Protestants. If she had protested 
 more herself against the rule of the mother church she would 
 not now be a lonely stranger in a foreign land. 
 
 About two years before this she had seen in a newspaper 
 an account of the death of the wife of Herr Gaussen. No 
 hope had sprung up in her heart, he had long ago forgotten 
 her, or his companionship with that lovely Christian woman 
 had taught him that she was wholly unworthy of him. But 
 he was in trouble now, a lonely man with motherless children 
 about him. She found herself thinking of that almost every 
 day. After all, wherein had he sinned in becoming a Luther- 
 an? she asked herself. Was not he as capable of judging of 
 the true meaning of the Sacred Scriptures as any Catholic 
 priest? 
 
 But Dona Flavia was still talking. ' 4 Those who are here 
 in town call themselves let me see what they do call them- 
 selves Presbyterians; and they say the Baptists have estab- 
 lished a mission here in the last few days; the Baptists, the 
 very worst of all of them ! There is no way to stop the spread 
 of the disease now that the laws protect them. It is such a 
 pity!" 
 
 " What do they teach? " asked the visitor. 
 
88 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 '* O, I don't know," replied the Senora Urbina. " I don't 
 want to know. It is dangerous to inquire into such things. " 
 She had even tried to win back some of these- Presbyterians. 
 She had had her coachman drive her elegant carriage to that 
 part of town, and alighting, had picked her way in delicate 
 shoes, with daintily uplifted skirts, into the poor house. 
 Her success was not flattering, and she had come to the con- 
 clusion that such obstinacy must be due to the influence of 
 Satan. 
 
 After supper Mercedes was sent for to go to the parlor. 
 It was with a timid heart that she entered the brightly lighted 
 room. It was, as Mexican parlors generally are, a large, 
 long room. The. beams overhead were painted white with 
 gilded edges, and from them hung large lamps whose many 
 prisms sparkled in the light. Two large windows opened on 
 the street, and over them were gracefully draped silken cur- 
 tains. A brussels carpet covered the floor. At one end of 
 the room was the usual group consisting of sofa and two arm 
 chairs in front of it facing each other. They were upholstered 
 in pinkish damask over which trailed vines and flowers. In 
 front of one window sat a small stand with gilded legs on 
 which was a pot of exquisite artificial flowers. There were 
 rugs and handsome tables with ornaments, a piano, and, on 
 the delicately tinted walls some portraits and other pictures. 
 
 There was the usual evening gathering of children, grand- 
 children and friends. A group of girls and young gentlemen 
 at the piano were playing, and discussing the music. Other 
 groups about the room were talking quietly. Dofla Plavia 
 beckoned Mercedes to come and sit near her. 
 
 In a few minutes Don Francisco entered and there was a 
 general movement at the end of the room to open the way 
 for him to the sofa, the seat of honor; but seeing a great arm 
 chair vacant by the side of his wife he sat down in that. 
 Mercedes noticed afterwards that he always sat by her, and 
 that his hand, unconsciously to himself, as it seemed, nearly 
 always rested on her shoulder. 
 
 Pretty, daintily dressed children flitted about the room now 
 
IN THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 89 
 
 stopping a moment to kiss Don Francisco on the lips, then 
 stooping as they passed to kiss the hand of an uncle or father 
 as it lay on the arm of his chair, or slipping an arm about the 
 neck of an aunt or mother to say something in a low tone. 
 
 Don Francisco was evidently a favorite with the young 
 people. Now and then girls gathered about him in a circle 
 and engaged in lively conversation. All appealed to him ; one 
 would not fail to see that he was the center of attraction in 
 the room. 
 
 Presently Dona Flavia said, * ' Francisco, this is the new 
 teacher." 
 
 ' ' Ah, " he said pleasantly, ' ' Mercedes is your name isn't it. " 
 
 "Yes, Sefior, Mercedes Gonzales, at the orders of your 
 Worship." 
 
 " Well Mercedes, " he continued, smiling, "you will have 
 a pretty good school. The boys and girls are like flies in my 
 house." 
 
 A little fellow who was lying on a sofa rolled over and 
 laughed at his father's witticism. 
 
 ' ' Would you like to begin to-morrow to see how little they 
 know? " 
 
 "Whenever you please, Sir." 
 
 "Mercedes," said one of the little girls, coming up to her 
 chair, ' ' you didn't know there were ghosts in this house, did 
 you?" 
 
 "No," she replied, trying to smile. 
 
 "Well, there are, really," she averred, looking at her with 
 very wide, would-be solemn eyes, "arn't there, papa?" 
 
 Don Francisco nodded and said abstractedly, * ' So they say. " 
 
 Two or three more children gathered around to see the ef- 
 fect of the ghost story on the stranger. . 
 
 ' * O, it's a dreadful story, " went on Carolina. ' ' About three 
 hundred years ago a wicked old Marquis from Spain lived 
 here. One time when he was in another hacienda of his a 
 great many miles from here he gave a ball, and when they 
 were all as gay as could be singing and dancing and playing 
 he told then that he was sick and that he was going to his. 
 
90 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 room, but they must go on enjoying themselves. But he 
 wasn't sick at all; he just wanted to come here to kill his 
 wife. So he and a servant slipped out and they got on horses 
 and they rode and rode and rode till they came to one of his 
 ranches and there they changed horses and rode and rode till 
 they reached here. And the Marquis came in and murdered his 
 wife. He wanted to murder his little baby girl too but the 
 nurse hid it so he could not find it. And they went out and 
 jumped on their horses and rode and rode till they came to 
 his hacienda; and he went into his room; and it was nearly 
 day. When it was time for breakfast he came out of his room 
 just as if he had slept there all night, and told them he felt 
 better. But ever since he killed his wife a woman dressed 
 all in white cries at night in the orchard behind the house, 
 and sometimes away in the night a carriage with ghosts in it 
 and drawn by ghost horses drives out of this house and drives 
 all about through the streets of the town. 5 ' 
 
 She ended breathless. Little Lazaro put his elbow on Mer- 
 cedes' knee and his chin on his hand and whispered, " Arn't 
 you scared, Mercedes? " 
 
 "Not very badly," she replied, slipping her arm about the 
 child. 
 
 Anita crept closer and in a frightened tone said to a young 
 gentleman who sat near the window, ' ' Rafael, please close 
 the blind. I am afraid of the dark out there." 
 
 A little while after the company broke up, those who had 
 dropped in coming up to say good night to Don Francisco 
 and Dona Flavia. The grandchildren kissed their hands at 
 parting. 
 
 When Mercedes said good night to them Don Francisco 
 said, smiling: 
 
 "You must not dream of the wicked Marquis to-night." 
 
 She reached her room just in time, for all the evening the 
 knot in her throat had been growing larger. She closed the 
 door and burst into tears. But after a few minutes of violent 
 weeping she controlled herself sufficiently to say her prayers, 
 for in this time of affliction she had become more attentive to 
 
IX THE HOUSE OF HER FATHER'S MASTER. 91 
 
 religious duties. She knelt and repeated the prayer to the 
 'Holy Guardian Angel " which is prescribed for the night in 
 Father Ripalda's Catechism: 
 
 ' ' O my holy Guardian Angel ! Thou seest that delivering 
 myself up now to sleep I am going to put myself in a state in 
 which I cannot take care of myself; therefore I need now 
 more of thy assistance and care. Do not permit, my Holy 
 Angel, that the powers of darkness have dominion over me; 
 deliver me from injurious, impure and troublesome dreams; 
 and when I awake in the morning do not allow the devil to 
 rob me of the first fruits of the day, but suggest to me some 
 thought that may carry all my heart and affection to my 
 Creator. Amen. " 
 
 Then crossing herself many times as a protection against 
 the evil influences that might linger in that room for the 
 murder might have taken place there, she reflected she lay 
 down. She cried herself to sleep; for the thought that all 
 this good fortune had come to her through her father's death 
 was a very bitter one. 
 
 She dreamed that the Marquis with the thin, dark face and 
 the small, deep-set eyes bent over her ready to kill her. She 
 'struggled out of that nightmare, and aftej: a long time slept 
 again and dreamed that as she sat in her room she heard a 
 carriage rolling through the court and the tread of horses, 
 but it was not like the tread of living horses, though they 
 went swiftly. She sprang up and opened the door, and there 
 was the carriage, a very old fashioned one, such a one as 
 Charles V. might have ridden in, it seemed to her, and it was 
 all worm-eaten and dropping to pieces. She looked through 
 the door, and there sat a ghostly lady " all in white." There 
 were other ghosts in the carriage but she did not see them 
 distinctly. As she looked the lady fixed her great dark eyes 
 on her and cried out, "Osave my baby! save my- baby!" 
 And then the phantom horses plunged forward with their 
 phantom load, and away they went through the hall and past 
 the parlor door, and through the great front door which 
 opened to them of its own accord. And so they went on 
 
92 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 through the streets of the town while the people slept. Then 
 Mercedes awoke and was glad that this, too, was a dream. 
 After a long time she slept again and dreamed that she 
 heard the wild cries of a woman. She went to the window 
 which, as it seemed to her looked on an orchard, and there 
 under a tree was the woman all in white wringing her hands 
 and crying; and as she looked at her suddenly it was not the 
 Marchioness but her father who was wringing his hands and 
 crying. The red flames of purgatory arose around him. 
 When he saw her he stretched out his hands to her and cried, 
 " O, Mercedes, help me out, help me out! " And in her strug- 
 gle to break the spell that held her so she could go to him, 
 she awoke. It seemed real to her; her father's own voice 
 had called her from the spirit world, and he had begged her 
 to help him. She had wished he might come to her and he 
 had come to beg for masses for the repose of his soul. 
 
A FEW THINGS ABOUT SCHOOLS AND CONVENTS. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A FEW THINGS ABOUT SCHOOLS AND CONVENTS. 
 
 IN the first days of her life in Don Francisco's house Mer- 
 cedes often wondered where was Magdalena, the pretty 
 daughter of Dona Flavia whom she had seen at the little 
 chapel on the hill. After a few days she asked. She was at 
 school, Dona Flavia replied. She had been for three years 
 in a College of ^he Sacred Heart of Jesus in a city in the 
 southern part of Mexico. * ' We wanted her to be in the care 
 of the holy nuns while she had to be away fsom us," she said, 
 forgetting that Don Francisco had only consented, and very 
 reluctantly, to her plan. 
 
 I have been able to get very little definite information about 
 Catholic schools in Mexico. It is said that all of them are 
 under the control of the Jesuits. That may strike you as 
 strange since the followers of Ignacius de Loyola have been 
 banished from the country. They are here, nevertheless. 
 
 Some people who have a great horror of the Jesuits are 
 very complacent towards the Catholics in general. They do 
 not know that Catholicism has become Jesuitism. The Jesu- 
 itical doctrines which authorize mental restrictions, lying, 
 perjury, stealing, secret compensation and murder are now, 
 so those who have studied the subject tell us, the doctrines 
 of the whole Roman Catholic Church; and all the clergy and, 
 in short, all who teach that religion are required to teach 
 them. They are, then, taught in all the Catholic schools. 
 
 It is said that far more attention is given to the instruction 
 of the pupils in the principles of Catholicism than in those of 
 the text -books. A young lady who in her childhood attended 
 a Catholic school in the city of Mexico told me that the prin- 
 cipal thing she studied was the catechism. 
 
 As to the text- books, your attention has often been called 
 
94 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 to the Romanism in them. In the histories which they use 
 there are gross violations of truth, for instance when they 
 treat of such occurrences as the Massacre of St. Bartholo- 
 mew's eve. 
 
 I was once betrayed by ignorance into buying some Roman 
 Catholic text-books for the use of a class of young ladies to 
 whom I was teaching English here in Mexico. Some of them 
 had the books, spelling books and readers, having used them 
 when they attended a Roman Catholic school in Texas, and 
 they wished to continue to use them on account of the expense 
 of buying new ones. I saw that they were prepared ' * By a 
 Catholic Teacher," but I thought, "Of course they teach no 
 denominationalism; no school books do that." 
 
 I found that they were full of Romanism; even the simple 
 sentences in the spelling book which was intended for begin- 
 ners in the United States were full of Catholicism. I refused 
 of course to use them, and finally succeeded in selling them 
 at a sacrifice to the principal of that school which the young 
 ladies had attended. 
 
 You are familiar with the statement that there are no con- 
 vents nor monasteries in Mexico. 
 
 In Bancroft's History of Mexico I find this paragraph which 
 I translate: "Another notable act of Juarez was the decree 
 of confiscation of the goods of the church on July 12, 1859, 
 founded on the fact that the clergy had been the principal 
 support of the royalists during the war of independence and 
 since then the most powerful enemies of liberal ideas, pro- 
 moting the present fratricidal war with the object of retain- 
 ing supremacy in civil affairs as well as in religious affairs. 
 This decree returned to the nation all the property which the 
 regular and secular clergy possessed, separated the church 
 and state and at the same time conceded to all the religious 
 sects the right of public worship. Religious ministers were 
 to receive for their services only voluntary contributions and 
 they were not to hold real estate; at the same time it com- 
 manded the dissolution of all the religious societies, consider- 
 ing them dangerous to the public welfare. These measures 
 
A FEW THINGS ABOUT SCHOOLS AND CONVENTS. 95 
 
 aroused the malevolence of the clerical party who did not 
 hesitate to oppose them in the confessional, in the pulpit, 
 and by the worn out means of excommunication, making use 
 of the timid consciences of the women and the fears of the 
 people. " 
 
 But the law stood firm and six months* afterward the vic- 
 torious army of Juarez, 25,000 in number, entered the capital, 
 greeted by the acclamations of their friends, and proceeded 
 to enforce it. 
 
 The monasteries and convents (they are all called convents 
 in Mexico) were, many of them, in the heart of the city, and 
 they had grown so large that they had crossed and closed 
 streets. Juarez drew up his army in front of one after another 
 where they closed the streets and commanded to batter them 
 down with cannon balls. It was not a measure of war; it was 
 only the easiest way to open the streets. Those of the monks 
 and nuns who still lingered in defiance of the law fled when 
 they saw that dark mass of men and the threatening cannon 
 before the walls. After the buildings were opened thus the 
 soldiers rushed in. 
 
 "We were so furious against the convents," said a gentle- 
 man who was a captain in that army, relating it many 
 years afterward to a friend from whom, in turn, I heard the 
 narrative, ''that we rushed in and tore down the shrines and 
 altars and broke the images and trampled them under foot, 
 and threw the books into the streets." 
 
 Many of the books were picked up and preserved. \ Some 
 of them are to be seen now in the halls of the National Li- 
 brary. Many of them were sold for trifles at the book stands. 
 This old leather-covered, warped, yellow-leafed, worm-eaten 
 copy of the Catechism of the Council of Trent in the book 
 case at my elbow is one of them; in the last few weeks I have 
 had occasion to consult others of them. 
 
 So numerous and so large were these convents that one 
 wonders how there was room for houses of any other class. 
 
 When they were confiscated to the state and the inmates 
 were expelled, they were given the choice of re turning* to- 
 
96 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 their families or leaving the country. Many of them embarked 
 for Italy where they took refuge in the convents of Milan; 
 others laid aside the veil and the monastic habit and lived 
 as other people; a few of the women continued to wear the 
 habit, living as nuns in the houses of their relatives, and their 
 faces never have, to this day, been seen in the streets. Prison- 
 ers they are, like His Holiness in the Vatican, and as worthy 
 of sympathy as he. 
 
 There are not a few nuns in Mexico in charge of schools. I 
 once traveled for some distance in company with two of them; it 
 was on a train which at the end of its journey entered the 
 City of Mexico. They were elegant looking women, in hand- 
 some but plainly made black dresses, bonnets and long veils. 
 They conversed in low musical voices and in two or three 
 languages. I could very well imagine that they were high- 
 born and high-bred women. There was nothing about them 
 but the nun's dress to indicate that they were tainted with 
 the moral leprosy which is contracted from the use of the doc- 
 trines of Loyola and from other Roman Catholic influences 
 and practices nothing but the dress and a catalogue of a 
 school in the shawl-strap of one of them, a catalogue of a 
 College of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 
 
 A great many kinds of very fine needlework are taught in 
 the Catholic Schools here. When the young ladies become 
 very proficient they are permitted to embroider with gold, 
 silk and velvet robes for the Archbishops. 
 
 Magdalena's letter to her mother conveying the intelligence 
 that this honor had been conferred on her gave great pleasure 
 to that lady, not only because it was a proof of her daughter's 
 proficiency in the art of embroidery, but because she was 
 to be engaged in so high a religious work. All such good 
 works would tend to shorten her prospective stay in purga- 
 tory. 
 
 When this letter was read to Mercedes she went off into 
 day dreams about the elegance of the school and of the teach- 
 ers, about the privilege or learning to make all those beauti- 
 ful things, and especially about the religious training of 
 
A FEW THINGS ABOUT SCHOOLS AND CONVENTS. 97 
 
 which her mistress spoke with so much enthusiasm. Ah! 
 the way to heaven must seem very plain to Magdalena, while 
 she must go on all her life groping in the dark, a lost child! 
 If she could only become a nun, she thought, if she were 
 only good enough to live among the holy nuns, spending her 
 days and nights in meditations and prayers and good works, 
 she might find peace of soul. 
 
98 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 PURGATORY. 
 
 |NE afternoon, about a month after Mercedes began to 
 teach in Don Francisco's house, she helped her restless, 
 happy little charges, Jose Maria, or Pepe, as they generally 
 called him, Lazaro and Alejandro into their riding suits, and 
 watched them as each mounted on his own pony dashed off 
 down the street with the servant for their usual afternoon ride. 
 Then she went back into the house thinking how pretty and 
 lovable they were. As she passed to her own room Don 
 Francisco, who was sitting in the corridor with Dona Flavia, 
 called her. She went up to them and at their invitation sat 
 down near them on the bent wood sofa. After a little con- 
 versation about the children Don Francisco said pleasantly: 
 
 "Would you not like to have some money, Mercedes? You 
 are unlike most young ladies if you would not. " 
 
 11 1 thank you, Don Francisco," she replied with some con- 
 fusion,, "I owe you more than I can ever pay you; but I need 
 some money a good deal of what you promised to pay me, 
 in fact very much." 
 
 "What do you owe me for? " he asked, in surprise, straight- 
 ening himself up in his chair. 
 
 "My father owed you, you know." 
 
 " O, that is it! Why, didn't you know that when a laborer 
 died his debts were all forgiven? " 
 
 "Yes, Sefior, I knew that. But if they are just debts," she 
 continued, looking steadily at him, "if they are just debts they 
 ought to be paid by the children." 
 
 Don Francisco winced a little and wondered if his shrewd 
 overseer was not more exacting than he ought to be. 
 
 1 ' Well, it is the custom to forgive all the debts, and if it 
 were not I should not allow you to pay me anything. " 
 
PURGATORY. 99 
 
 "I thank you, Don Francisco. My father tried very hard 
 to pay you. He killed himself trying to pay you; but no mat- 
 ter how hard he worked or how little he bought the debt grew 
 larger and larger. It was the same way with my grandfather 
 and my uncles. They all died trying to pay debts which grew 
 larger and larger, they never knew how. " And she gave way 
 to her overwrought feelings by bursting into tears. The 
 pent up indignation of three generations gave her the strength, 
 now that she stood face to face with the oppressor of her 
 people, to tell him of their wrongs. 
 
 "I know that the overseer did it," she went on as soon as 
 she could control her voice. * ' And they say you never know 
 much of what goes on in your haciendas. But none the less 
 are your peons ground down year after year into deeper 
 depths of poverty and anxiety." 
 
 ' ' Well, child, I am afraid the overseers are not as good men 
 as they might be; but it is all over now. So don't cry any 
 more, and take your money." 
 
 ' ' I thank you, Don Francisco, " she replied as she took the 
 money and then went to her room. 
 
 Don Francisco and his wife talked a little while and then he 
 went out and walked a long tune in the orchard. His re- 
 flections were not pleasant; he could not help feeling, notwith- 
 standing what she had said about the overseer, that he was to 
 blame to some extent, and that she thought so. There was 
 something awful in the way that weak, helpless daughter of 
 the people had turned on him like a wild beast at bay. What 
 if there should come a great day of reckoning in which all 
 these laborers of his should face him and accuse him! He 
 had little belief in supernatural things, and things to come to 
 pass after death, nevertheless he. thought a good deal of the 
 day of judgment that afternoon. They were strange thoughts 
 to him, these of injustice and accusers, for he had always 
 thought of himself as a generous and kind-hearted man; he 
 had even been called a philanthropist, and the term had not 
 sounded strange to him. 
 
 Two or three times he lighted a cigarette and then threw 
 
100 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 it down and walked on with his head down and his hands be- 
 hind him. 
 
 It was an evil, he admitted, the existence of these great 
 haciendas. But what could be done about it? Nothing till 
 he died and then his would be divided among his children. 
 Let tune settle it! And with this reflection he went back to 
 the house and ate his merienda and went off to his office. 
 
 Mercedes had her cry out with a vague feeling that she 
 was responsible for all the sins of all the superintendents in 
 Mexico, and a great dread of the consequences to herself of 
 her outburst of indignation. She would have been willing to 
 sacrifice her own interests if there had been any hope of bene- 
 fitting those others of her class who were on Don Francisco's 
 haciendas; but she could not flatter herself with that hope. 
 However, as little trouble came of it for her as there was bene- 
 fit in it for others. 
 
 She went on as usual with her teaching of text-book and 
 catechism. She put herself in the way of reaping whatever 
 of profit there is hi the pope's promise of indulgences to 
 teachers, as she found it in the catechism which is in com- 
 mon use. It reads as follows: 
 
 "Indulgences. Seven years to school teachers each time 
 they, on Sundays or festive days, assemble the children to ex- 
 plain the Catechism to them; and one hundred days for each 
 tune they do this in the classes on week days. " Mercedes 
 had very indefinite ideas about it all; the teaching of the cate- 
 chism was a good work, and as salvation was to be purchased 
 by good works it was well to be as diligent in the perform- 
 ance of them as possible. It is more difficult to introduce 
 the idea of the freedom of salvation into the mind of a Catho- 
 lic than any other. 
 
 But there was another subject which troubled Mercedes far 
 more in these days than any thought of her own safety. Don 
 Francisco paid her regularly every month and with no less 
 regularity she paid to the priest all of her salary that she 
 could possibly spare to induce him to say masses for the re- 
 pose of her father's soul. This money was not paid to the 
 
PURGATORY. 101 
 
 priest who had visited her father on his death-bed; the sight 
 of him was intolerable to Mercedes. It was paid to the cure. 
 He was an aged man; by virtue of having been a priest for a 
 great number of years he had at least one privilege of a bishop 
 that of saying High Mass (Misa Pontificial). 
 
 With the common people he indulged in coarse stories and 
 jests; but as the spiritual adviser of the ladies of wealth and 
 fashion he was supposed to adapt his conversation to their 
 habits of thought. 
 
 The doctrine of purgatory is a rich mine of wealth for the 
 Catholic Church. From McClintock and Strong's Cyclopedia 
 we learn that the Jews received the idea of a purifying con-' 
 flagration from the Persians. Prom the Jews it passed into 
 the ethical speculations of the Christians. "But whatever 
 the views of some church fathers on the subject as a doctrine, 
 it was unknown in the Christian Church for the first 600 years, 
 and it does not appear to have been made an article of faith 
 until the tenth century when ' the clergy, ' says Mosheim, 
 * finding these superstitious terrors admirably adapted to in- 
 crease their authority and promote their interest, used every 
 method to augment them; and by the most pathetic discourses, 
 accompanied with monstrous fables and fictitious miracles, 
 they labored to establish the doctrine of purgatory, and also 
 to make it appear that they had a mighty influence in that 
 formidable region." 
 
 "Purgatory, as a burning away of sins," said Dollinger at 
 the Bonn Conference of Old Catholics in 1875, "was an idea 
 unknown in the East as well as the West till Gregory the 
 Great introduced it. He added the idea of a tormenting fire. 
 This, the schoolmen gradually converted into doctrine which 
 they associated with papal indulgence, till it came to apply to 
 the dead generally, which of course made all seek for indul- 
 gence. It went on to have degrees; some could receive in- 
 dulgence for a few of their sins, others for all, and so on; so 
 that eventually the pope, having already the keeping of 
 heaven and dominion on earth, obtained also sovereignty 
 under the earth." (McClintock's Cyclopedia.) 
 
102 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Of the fees for masses for the dead the priest must pay a 
 certain per cent, to the bishop, the bishop to the archbishop, 
 the archbishop to the pope. No doubt, too, the pope is liber- 
 ally paid to license such institutions as * ' purgatorial insurance 
 companies, which for a certain premium paid annually insures 
 the payor a certain number of masses for his soul in the event 
 of his death. " (Of the existence of such a company we learn 
 in the Cyclopedia referred to above.) 
 
 It has been said that no matter how much money was paid 
 for masses for the dead the priests seldom or never announced 
 that the sufferer was released from torment. The reason for 
 this is evident: as long as they could make the survivors 
 believe that the relative was still in purgatory there was hope 
 that they would pay for masses. 
 
 It often happens, however, that the money comes in too 
 slowly to satisfy the avarice of the priest. Then he invents 
 new methods to fill his purse. An additional advantage in 
 these extra methods is that the money all belongs to the offi- 
 ciating priest. 
 
 Raffling is practiced in Mexico, not only for religious pur- 
 poses, not only as a means of controlling the affairs of the 
 unseen world, not only to obtain money for the building of 
 churches and for the buying of the furniture for them; but it 
 is practiced universally for private ends. Poor women will 
 call at one's door to ask her to buy a number with the hope 
 that she may be so fortunate as to win the prize a pair of 
 brass pendants for the ears; another displays to her admiring 
 gaze a handkerchief, or a cushion, or a napkin, or an article 
 of apparel, and solicits his dollar, half dollar or quarter, and 
 his subscription on the dirty paper of names which she carries. 
 If one has a horse to dispose of he is informed that an advan- 
 tageous way would be to raffle him; if he wishes to select his 
 intimate friends for the coming year let him raffle for them. 
 
 If, therefore, he wishes his departed friends to escape from 
 the torments of the condemned and enter into the ' ' rest which 
 remains for the people of God," let him raffle for it; the priest 
 promises to say-enough masses to insure the passage to heaven 
 of the friends of those who draw the fortunate number. 
 
PURGATORY. 103 
 
 One day several of the principal ladies of the church met 
 with the Sefior Cure in the parlor of the Sefiora de Urbina 
 to arrange for a general raffle in favor of the souls in purga- 
 tory. The customary arrangements were made. A commit- 
 tee of ladies was appointed to go from house to house and 
 solicit contributions. They were to ask for three cents from 
 each person with the name of some sufferer in purgatory, if 
 there was any in that place of torment who was dear to him. 
 
 Each name was to be numbered. As these zealous ladies 
 would visit nearly every house hi the town it would be a con- 
 siderable sum- which they would lay before the Sefior Cure. 
 
 On a very few of the thousands of the slips of paper which 
 he prepared he wrote, besides the number, tne word " raffle, 5 ' 
 selecting the numbers carefully with respect to the names 
 which accompanied them. For the person whose number was 
 accompanied by this word sufficient masses were to be said to 
 secure his exit from purgatory. 
 
 The raffle took place in the vestry of the church in the 
 presence of a committee, the Sefior Cure presiding. After- 
 wards the lucky numbers were announced to the congregation 
 who waited kneeling on the stone floor of the church, the men 
 with uncovered heads, the black-robed women with heads 
 meekly bowed under black shawls or mantillas. They all 
 waited, each in intensest expectation, their hearts full of ten- 
 der memories, unusually fresh to-day, awed by the nearness 
 of the unseen world and the mystery of the whole ceremony- 
 hoping each to hear his chosen number called when the priest 
 should enter. 
 
 Mercedes was one of those who knelt and waited, rapidly 
 repeating Ave Marias and Pater Nosters, then forgetting them 
 and slipping off into prayers for the dead, as she hoped and 
 waited. But her number was not a lucky one. Neither was 
 there a lucky number among those chosen by Dofia Flavia for 
 her mother who had been dead some fifteen years. The Se- 
 fior Cure was too shrewd a business man to permit the escape 
 of those whose relatives were able to pay for masses. 
 
 After the lucky numbers were announced the mass was 
 
104 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO 
 
 chanted with the usual accompaniment of burning candles, 
 waving censers, smoking incense and the sighing and sobbing 
 of music. The priests in sacerdotal robes officiated, and the 
 people were more and more impressed by the solemnity and 
 mystery of the performance. 
 
 Filial love moved the Senora de Urbina to try again and 
 again. But the fates seemed to be against her. Her mother, 
 her pastor told her, must have committed some sin which was 
 very hard to expiate. But, he said, she should not be * ' weary 
 in well doing, for in due season she should reap if she f ainted 
 not." 
 
 Among other methods which were used to accomplish the 
 release of this good lady an all night meeting was held in the 
 principal church by a society to which Dona Flavia belonged, 
 and " His Divine Majesty, the Most Holy Sacrament" was ex- 
 posed for their adoration. 
 
 At length the afflicted daughter resolved to have a raffle 
 for her mother alone. I cannot describe this proceeding bet- 
 ter than in the words of a man who witnessed one of these 
 private raffles in the house of a wealthy patron. It was after 
 he became a member of an evangelical church that he and 
 his wife described it and acted part of it for my edification. 
 
 "All the rich ladies and gentlemen," he said, "were seated 
 around the parlor "- 
 
 "All of them laughing and talking?" I asked, for I had 
 seen so much levity in connection with these ceremonies that 
 that seemed very probable. 
 
 " O, no ! all of them very serious. Crowds of servants and 
 poor friends of the family stood around the doors and watched 
 what was going on. The cure stood by a table in the center 
 of the room. There were two goblets on the table and in 
 each of them were the same number of slips of paper, all of 
 them blank except one which bore the name of the person in 
 purgatory for whom the trial was to be made.- Two little 
 girls drew the papers from the goblets, drawing alternately, 
 one from one goblet, the other from the other. If the paper 
 containing the name of the sufferer was the last to be drawn 
 
PURGATORY. 105 
 
 out, that indicated that it was not yet time for him to be de- 
 livered from torment, but if when that paper was drawn out 
 there still remained papers in the goblets, then the cure was 
 under obligations to say the masses for his deliverance. " 
 
 "How much does each person pay the cure for the raffle? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 "The prices differ. In this case they each paid 8.25. " 
 
 1 ' Did you believe in such things as that before you were 
 converted? " I asked the man wonder ingly, for he was a man 
 of good sense. 
 
 "Why, of course. How could I help believing in it? All 
 the Catholics do." 
 
 And I went off into wonder over the mysteries of the human 
 mind, of the curious phases of thought and .belief possible to 
 minds which, according to all ordinary standards, are sane, 
 and into thankfulness that I had not been brought up hi Ro- 
 man Catholicism, that I too should believe such things. 
 
 But neither did the private raffle release the mother of Dona 
 Flavia from the purifying fires. 
 
 There was not much hope in this raffle but there was evi- 
 dently more hope of a successful end than hi the general raffles. 
 Mercedes resolved to try it. 
 
 She induced nine or ten women and girls, acquaintances of 
 hers on the Orilla del Agua, to take part in the raffle, paying 
 the money for some of them herself, though some of them, 
 poor as they were, paid their own money. * ' Atanacio had a 
 contempt for the Holy Church it is true," they said, "but 
 that did not save him from purgatory, and of course it is right 
 that his daughter should try to relieve him." 
 
 So it came to pass that one bright morning these women 
 and girls knelt in the vestry of the church and watched the 
 children draw out the papers. These children wore short 
 calico dresses. Their stockings dropped down over their 
 rusty shoes. The front part of their hair was tied on the tops 
 of their heads, so that it made a topknot, that arrangement 
 being convenient to keep it out of their eyes; the remaining 
 hair was tightly braided. Now and then the performance 
 
106 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 was interrupted for a few moments while the little fingers 
 clawed their heads vigorously. But the heavenly innocence 
 was still in their faces, and there was not sufficient dirt on 
 the fat little hands that went fumbling in the goblets to ob- 
 scure the baby grace. 
 
 The spectators scarcely breathed in their suspense; but 
 now and then there slipped through the red lips of the chil- 
 dren a little rippling laugh as a hand missed the goblet or 
 dived into it with needless impetuosity. 
 
 Mercedes' mind was wrought to a high pitch by super- 
 stitious awe, and by another feeling; there was a dread, a 
 dark something that had shown itself among the shadows of 
 her mind now and then, during these months when she had 
 been trying to pay her father out of purgatory; it had never 
 before come so near, nor stared into her face with such men- 
 acing look as it did this morning. It was the thought that 
 whatever her justifying reasons might be, it was a shameful 
 thing to disobey her father; it was a want of respect for him 
 on the part of his daughter, it was humiliating him. among 
 his neighbors to permit that these priests, who, according to 
 his judgment, were the worst of men, should handle his name, 
 should make expiation for him. She had a vague f eeling that 
 ' this Something would some day come boldly out of the shad- 
 ows and seize her and hold her in its horrible clutches while 
 it stared down into her eyes and read through them all the 
 disobedience and want of respect for her father. The night 
 before as she sat thinking of this she had buried her burning 
 eyes and parched lips in her hands and had moaned: " O God, 
 I don't know what is right! Have mercy on me! " 
 
 The papers fluttered and rustled as they were drawn out of 
 the goblets. They were nearly all out. The attention had 
 become intense. The eyes of the women were on the little 
 white, fluttering things with which was so mysteriously con- 
 nected more than life or death. At last they could not be 
 mistaken they saw the name on a paper which one of the 
 little, fat hands grasped. The priest would have given not 
 a little to snatch it from the child's hand and slip it back into 
 the goblet. 
 
PURGATORY. 107 
 
 A sigh of relief broke from their lips as they arose to their 
 feet. But there was no brightness of joy in Mercedes' face. 
 Was this triumph? There was a mixture of feelings in her 
 mind. Now that it was all over that dreaded Something had 
 come out of the shadows and grasped her. She saw in his 
 true light the man who stood before her with the forced smile 
 in his eyes and the false words of congratulation on his lips. 
 A horror of darkness had fallen on her hi the midst of the 
 bright day. 
 
108 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 IS the days passed this darkness was not lifted, neither 
 was there any rift in the clouds. It seemed to her she 
 must be contemptible in the eyes of God and man. 
 
 One day in the midst of this darkness she received a mes- 
 sage from Frederica requesting her to come to her. She re- 
 ceived her with a shining face, and there were roses in the 
 girdle of her dainty summer dress, a phenomenon which Mer- 
 cedes had never noticed before. 
 
 "I sent for you, dear," said Frederica when they were 
 seated in her room, "to tell you that I am going off a long 
 way; I am going back to Germany to live, I in fact I am 
 going to be married in a few days," and the delicate color 
 mounted to her cheeks and spread over the white column of 
 her neck. 
 
 Mercedes only stared at her blankly and repeated ' ' going 
 off," "going to be married." 
 
 ' * Yes, dear, a friend whom I knew in Germany a long tune 
 ago has come, and we are to be married and go back to his 
 home. I want you to be at my marriage. You can put off 
 your black dress for that evening. You can get a pretty white 
 dress; you will need it soon anyhow. Get Maria Goribar to 
 make it for you; Dofia Flavia will help you select it. You 
 will come, won't you, daughter? It is very hard for me to 
 leave you, you have been a great pleasure to me." 
 
 The girl, making an effort to repress a sob, and to connect 
 in her mind such incongruities as her teacher, and priests and 
 Romish ceremonies, replied: "Yes, I will be at the marriage, 
 of course. You will be married in the church? " 
 
 ' * No, we shall be married only by the civil officer here at 
 home." 
 
REVELATIONS. 109 
 
 "And not in the church at all!" exclaimed Mercedes in 
 amazement. "Shall you feel that you are married?" and 
 then she feared that her unpremeditated words had given 
 unpardonable offense. 
 
 * ' O yes, my friend is not a Catholic. He would not be mar- 
 ried by the Church. " 
 
 "Is he," stammered Mercedes, as Frederica paused, "is 
 he a Free Mason? " She thought of the Protestants, but she 
 could not insult her teacher by asking if she was to marry a 
 Protestant. Still she knew it was scarcely less bad to ask 
 if she was to marry a Mason. 
 
 A merry smile broke over Frederica's face. * ' O no, he is 
 not a Mason that is, at least I don't know whether he is 
 or not. But he is a Protestant, a Lutheran." 
 
 Mercedes felt as if she were slipping over successive preci- 
 pices a mason, a Protestant, a disciple of Martin Luther! 
 She looked at the fair, womanly face before her as if she ex- 
 pected to discover in it the beginning of a transformation in- 
 to something monstrous; then the recollection that she was 
 to lose her only friend, her sweet, motherly teacher, swept 
 away all other thoughts. She slipped down by Frederica's 
 chair, and covering her face with her hands dropped her head 
 on her shoulder and sobbed, as she had done after her father's 
 death. 
 
 The lady's tears, too, fell on the dark, shining head. After 
 some tune the girl succeeded in calming herself. She looked 
 up and said: 
 
 "But you are very happy, are you not, Dona Frederica? " 
 
 * * Yes, dear, I am very happy. I shall be happy in my new 
 home. I shall have a house full of boys and girls to care for. 
 But I shall not forget my dear girl in Mexico. " 
 
 They talked a little while longer, and then Mercedes went 
 home, her mind full of confused thoughts. She must buy the 
 dress and have it made. For a few days she had little time 
 to think of her troubles, and in the meantime they were slip- 
 ping away from her. The suffering was too intense to last, 
 
110 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 and besides that it was inevitable that a strong, healthful 
 nature like hers should soon throw off gloomy thoughts. 
 She was happy, too, for her benefactress, though the loss to 
 her seemed an irreparable one. 
 
 The reader has guessed of course, to whom Frederica was 
 to be married. 
 
 Three months before Herr Gaussen had been seized with a 
 desire to see something of the United States of America. He 
 came oyer, spent some time among the northern cities, vis- 
 ited the Great Lakes and the Niagara Falls, went to Califor- 
 nia, and while there decided to return by the southern route 
 and visit some old friends in Texas. 
 
 He spent a few days with them and then started on his 
 homeward journey. One day just before noon he stood in the 
 waiting room of a railway station in San Antonio. He would 
 find out what time the northern bound train went out, then 
 leave his valise there and stroll about the town awhile. His 
 intention was to go immediately to New York and thence to 
 Hamburg. His thoughts had turned with new anxiety to his 
 business and to his children whom he had left in the care of 
 one of his sisters. 
 
 He stepped to the window to make some inquiries. The 
 agent stood ready to serve him, when, in that instant, these 
 words flashed through his mind, distinctly as if some one 
 spoke to him: "Go to Salta, Mexico." 
 
 He hesitated and put his hand to his forehead. The agent 
 inquired in a business-like way: 
 
 "What can I do for you, Sir? " 
 
 "Excuse me, nothing I think, thank you, " he replied and 
 walked away from the window and out on the platform. 
 
 " Go to Salta, Mexico ! " he repeated. ' * What for? " Fred- 
 erica lived there, as he happened to know; but he had not 
 thought of seeing her on this journey, or of ever seeing her 
 again. He had thought of her often since his wife's 
 death; he could very easily have returned to all his old ten- 
 derness for her, but he had had no intimation of any change 
 
REVELATIONS. Ill 
 
 in her feelings with regard to the things which had separated 
 them. In fact he had heard almost nothing about her since 
 their parting so long ago. He knew, however, that she had 
 never married. This mysterious injunction to go to Salta, 
 Mexico, must have some connection with her; * ' it must mean 
 it could mean nothing else " he caught his breath and 
 grasped tightly the head of his umbrella. 
 
 He had not failed to learn in all these years of his Christian 
 life that there sometimes come to men promptings from the 
 invisible world, promptings which must be obeyed, or which, 
 if they should be disobeyed, would be followed by leanness of 
 soul. He had never disobeyed, he doubted if it were possible. 
 Would he obey now? He could not do otherwise. Yet how 
 strange it was! 
 
 There rushed into his soul a flood of tenderness for the 
 woman whom he had loved in his youth, a rushing, impet- 
 uous flood that swept away ever barrier that had lifted itself 
 like granite between them. How distinctly he saw now the 
 golden head and the innocent eyes that had been his joy and 
 pride! 
 
 These thoughts flashed through his mind hi a very few min- 
 utes. There was nothing unusual in the appearance of the 
 gentleman who stood on the platform meditating in this way, 
 his silk hat in one hand and his umbrella in the other. Those 
 who happened to notice him probably thought of him as a quiet, 
 well-dressed, distinguished looking German gentleman. A 
 successful business man, he was, evidently; but a decided 
 stamp of benevolence and culture in his face and manner con- 
 vinced them that all his thoughts had not been devoted to 
 money-getting. He spoke English with foreign constructions 
 and a strong German accent. There was certainly nothing 
 in his appearance to indicate that God had spoken to him; 
 yet it was true. 
 
 He turned suddenly. He would obey the divine command; 
 in fact he would have obeyed with almost equal promptness 
 if all his feelings had urged him to do otherwise. 
 
 He walked briskly to the ticket window and rapped. 
 
112 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 1 ' I wish to go to Salta, Mexico, " he said as the agent came 
 up. " Does the train pass this station? " 
 
 ''No, you will have to cross the town." 
 
 "What time is the train due? " 
 
 "In a few minutes. " 
 
 " Can I make it? " he asked with a start. 
 
 "You may, possibly," replied the agent indifferently, "but 
 you will have to get a move on you if you do." 
 
 "Thank you," exclaimed Herr Gaussen, and seizing his 
 valise he rushed out. Fortunately a hack was near. 
 
 " Here, my man, what will you charge to carry me to the 
 other station? " 
 
 "A dollar, sir," replied the driver, seeing an opportunity 
 to make a few extra cents off a man in a hurry. 
 
 Herr Gaussen was already in the hack. ' * I'll pay you a 
 dollar and a half," he said, "if you will set me down there in 
 time. But you will have to get a move on you, " he added, 
 considering that phrase, which he had just learned, to be the 
 correct one to describe rapid locomotion. 
 
 He reached the station, made a few rapid inquiries, bought 
 a ticket to Eagle Pass, and gained the platform of the train 
 just as it moved off. 
 
 When he had mechanically deposited his valise on the seat 
 and settled himself comfortably with a black skullcap on his 
 head, and a newspaper spread out before him as if he intended 
 to read, he had time for thought. And thoughts rushed and 
 crowded and stumbled over each other in his mind. But the 
 prevaling feeling was one of awe, awe in which there was no 
 fear. It made him tremulous in every limb, but his heart 
 was flooded with a soft, steady radiance. A voice had come 
 to him from the unseen world; the silent chimes of the uni- 
 verse had been condensed into sound which his soul could 
 hear; God had spoken. With moist eyes and quivering lips 
 he exclaimed silently: "The Lord is so good! and to me, a 
 sinful man. " 
 
 Have revelations ceased? The canon is closed, it is true; 
 we can expect no more revelations which shall be addressed 
 
REVELATIONS. 113 
 
 to the whole human race. The vision of the prophet of 
 Patmos swept down to where the stream of time empties in-, 
 to the ocean of eternity, and farther out into eternity than 
 any other man can ever hope to see. No doubt God has 
 spoken to the Jews as a people for the last time before the 
 close of this dispensation. But has he not always spoken to 
 both Jews and Gentiles by special revelation? There was a 
 time, about 400 years, between Malachi and John the Baptist, 
 when no prophet raised a voice to rebuke or warn or console; 
 but in all that time did Jehovah give no sign to the sons of 
 men that he lived? Yes; there were answered prayers; there 
 was special guidance for individuals; there was that sweet 
 and wonderful thing which we call the Providence of God. 
 
 And so it has been since the Beloved John fell asleep. Do 
 they not these divine messages sometimes at long inter- 
 vals, it is true, but still sometimes do they not ring out, or 
 speak in still, small voices in our souls, coming to us in the 
 midst of our commonplace surroundings and occupations, and 
 thoughts, filling us with joyful awe? Are not these among 
 the secrets of the Lord which many of us keep and ponder in 
 our hearts, holding them too sacred to be exposed to public 
 gaze? 
 
 Some such reflections as these occupied the mind of Herr 
 Gaussen as the hours of the day and night passed and the 
 train swept along through Southern Texas, across the Rio 
 Grande and down into Mexico. 
 
 Then he lived over all his acquaintance with Frederica, all 
 the love-making in their happy, youthful days. To him she 
 had been like " an apple tree among the trees of the wood," 
 so fair and gracious and fragrant. Should he win her now? 
 Perhaps he was being sent to her for some other purpose. 
 But no- it was a part of his feeling about the going that he 
 should win her. Then, if he was to marry her, "as he was 
 to marry her," he said, correcting himself her religious 
 opinions must have changed; for if they had not she would 
 not marry him, neither would he desire to marry her, for 
 there could be no congeniality between them, and worst of 
 
114 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 all, she would not be a suitable mother for his children. She 
 had changed; he should win her at last; it had been revealed 
 to hun. 
 
 What a loving mother she would make for his children! his 
 ambitious, manly boys, his fair, gentle, little daughters! 
 his daughters, so like the lovely and loved wife whom he had 
 lost. She could never lose a place in his heart, he felt sure 
 of that, whatever new ties he might form. 
 
 He stood on the platform of the car and looked about him. 
 It seemed to him the Sahara Desert could scarcely be more 
 barren than this part of Northern Mexico through which he 
 was passing. The paths ran off through the dust in all di- 
 rections till the horizon came down and cut them off or they 
 ended at the base of picturesque mountains whose outlines 
 were unsoftened by the presence of vegetation. The whole 
 landscape was glaring and parching in the relentless sunshine. 
 
 Herr Gaussen was never given to puerile impatience, and 
 especially at this time when he was being led by an unseen 
 Guide he felt that it behooved him to bide His time; but it 
 seemed to him that he had never seen a train move so slowly. 
 
 And yet it was not one of those ' ' accommodation " trains that 
 stop for wood, that stop for water, that stop for other trains 
 to pass, that stop in the depths of the woods apparently to 
 allow the passengers to gather ferns and wild flowers, that 
 stop for no reason that the passengers can divine, that get 
 loose from the engine and run backward as if they were going 
 on an unwilling errand. 
 
 He was on a train that swept on steadily, rapidly, majes- 
 tically, with a journey before it to be made on time to Durango, 
 which was as far as the road had then gone on its journey to 
 the Pacific. 
 
 He was at the station at last. As he descended from the 
 train he saw a plain little American house, that had evident- 
 ly been built by the railroad company, and a few Mexican 
 houses. 
 
 A great lumbering diligence, such as we see in the pictures 
 in the history of France, stood ready to convey the passen- 
 
REVELATIONS. 115 
 
 gers to Salta. They bestowed themselves inside and on the 
 top. The trunks and valises were strapped on the top and at 
 the back, the driver on his high perch drew over his head a 
 sort of white buggy top to protect himself from the sun, made 
 his long whip vibrate and crack over the backs of the eight 
 mules and the journey began. On and on they ploughed their 
 way over the dusty, barren plain. The cloud of dust arose 
 and covered and almost stifled them. The man who assisted 
 the driver was sometimes on the top, sometimes climbing over 
 the sides of the diligence like an immense monkey. Two 
 gentlemen discussed with animation the amusement of fencing 
 and the rules of dueling. The uncouth -looking man with the 
 two large pistols and a knife in his belt fell into a very un- 
 belligerent slumber. 
 
 The mountains were sometimes near, sometimes far off. 
 Now and then they passed arroyos, great ditches with per- 
 pendicular sides, cut by the swift, strong currents of water 
 which pour down from the mountains in the rainy season. 
 In the midst of some of these arroyos stood pillars of earth r 
 perpendicular and with their tops on a level with the land 
 around them. The capricious current had cut about in an 
 unaccountable way leaving them standing while it swept 
 everything else before it. A white-washed shrine stood on 
 the top of a very steep hill. They who went up to worship 
 the saint within, suffered enough labor and fatigue to expiate 
 not a few sins, according to their ideas. 
 
 Now they came to an hacienda, the one from whose little 
 chapel the Virgin of St. John was brought to secure rain. 
 It was like an oasis in the desert. There were great green 
 trees, and a yard about the handsome stone house full of many 
 colored flowers; there were vineyards, and cactuses as large 
 as trees, and sparkling streams of water. 
 
 Then they came in sight of the town nestled among the 
 mountains, and the little chapel of the Holy Wood perched on 
 the top of its lonely rock. When they entered the town the 
 whip poised itself over the backs of the mules and aimed and 
 struck like a serpent at one and- another till they picked up 
 
116 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 their feet and flew, and the heavy diligence bounded and 
 thundered after them over the cobble stones of the streets. 
 The women in the outskirts of the town who sat on the ground 
 at their doors looking each other's heads, suspended their 
 occupation to watch the flying vehicle, the many dogs barked, 
 the passers-by stopped to look, the inmates of the houses 
 came to the doors and windows; it was the Passing of the 
 Diligence. 
 
 They paused once to deliver the mail bag at the post-office, 
 and then rushed on again. They dashed up to the hotel and 
 dismounted with a great deal of hurry big and loud talking on 
 the part of the driver, his assistants and the servants of the 
 hotel. 
 
 Herr Gaussen was conducted into the parlor to wait till his 
 room was ready for him. It was a long room; there was an 
 fatly carpet on the floor. There were two center tables, on 
 one of which was a wine service, and on the other a chess- 
 board. On the walls were mirrors and pictures of the Virgin 
 and other saints, among which was conspicuous, that of the 
 half -mad St. Francis of Assizi, with his thin face, white hair, 
 penetrating eyes, and bony hands. Herr Gaussen sat down 
 in one of the Vienna rocking chairs. Presently the landlady 
 came in. She spoke English; and that was a mercy for Herr 
 ^Gaussen. 
 
 " Good evening, Sefior." 
 
 " Good evening, Mam," replied he, rising and feeling less 
 helpless as he heard her English salutation. 
 
 * * O, seat yourself, cdballero, have the goodness to seat your- 
 self." 
 
 "Thank you," he said, and sat down. 
 
 "Wish you a room, Sefior? " 
 
 "I do," said Herr Gaussen. 
 
 "Pardon, Usted\ a million of pardons. The room is not ar- 
 reglado yet. It is ready in a few minutes. Usted will have 
 to wait a few minutes. Am sorry, sorry," said the hostess 
 effusively. 
 
 "That makes nothing, nothing at all, Mam," replied the 
 guest. 
 
REVELATIONS. 117 
 
 After this display of their proficiency in the language of 
 DeFoe and Shakespeare, her ladyship with a "with per- 
 mission," passed into the court and went to the room which 
 was being prepared for the guest. 
 
 When Herr Gaussen entered it a quarter of an hour after- 
 wards he saw a bare floor of black stone which was still damp 
 from the wiping up with a cloth, a table which was too tall for 
 any one to write on it unless it were the giant of Gath, a rocking 
 chair, and a narrow brass bed covered with a fringed purple 
 and white counterpane. At the head lay a round cotton bol- 
 ster whose pink calico cover shone through the open work of 
 the case. 
 
 A wash stand containing a bottle of drinking water and a 
 metal pan and pitcher completed the furniture of the room. 
 There was no window, the only light, when the folding doors 
 were closed, being admitted through the narrow transom 
 which was guarded by iron bars. 
 
 After supper he wished to learn, if possible, something of 
 the residence of Frederica. But he could find neither host 
 nor hostess. He went out into the street and presently reached 
 the plaza. It happened to be the 16th of September the 
 national Independence Day. The platform where the speeches 
 had been read that morning by the Director of the college, 
 the Senor Cure and other prominent men of the town was 
 still there and adorned with the national colors* 
 
 The band was playing in the center of the plaza and the 
 young gentlemen were promenading in one direction while the 
 young ladies walked in the other so that they might meet and 
 exchange glances. They were waiting for the hour appointed 
 for the beginning of the ball in the casino across the street. 
 There were plenty of firecrackers, sky-rockets, Roman- 
 candles, and other simple fireworks to attest the patriotism 
 of the Mexican youth. 
 
 Herr Gaussen strolled about awhile in the plaza, and at the 
 same time Frederica and others of the family sat in the bal- 
 cony of their house and looked down on the animated scene, 
 and neither dreamed that he was almost in the presence of 
 the other. 
 
118 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 After a while Herr Gaussen went back to the hotel and made 
 an effort to sleep on that uninviting bed till the morning. 
 Then he again attempted to learn something of the Senorita 
 Van Ness; he did not know the name of the relatives with 
 whom she lived. But the Sefior and the Senora had attended 
 the ball the evening before; it was long past noon when they 
 came out of their rooms. Then the landlord, who also spoke 
 English, assured him that he knew quite well where the lady 
 lived. Herr Gaussen put a letter into his hand and asked 
 him to have it sent to her. He had simply written her that 
 he had run down to Salta to spend a few days and that he 
 should be glad to call to see her that evening if it would be 
 agreeable to her. 
 
 Within a half hour he received her reply. She should be 
 glad to see him, she assured him hi an equally simple and 
 direct way. 
 
 The afternoon seemed almost interminable to him. He 
 went out and walked about in the streets. As he turned a 
 corner his attention was arrested by some wild shouting. He 
 stood still. Was it an insurrection, he wondered. The next 
 moment he saw coming down the street a long line of uncouth 
 men, ragged and dirty, many of them with their pantaloons 
 rolled above their knees and the sleeves of their shirts above 
 their elbows; on their feet they wore sandals. There were 
 perhaps fifty of them walking in a line at regular distances 
 from each other. Each of them carried on his head a basket 
 which would contain nearly a bushel. The purple grapes 
 were piled high up in them and hanging over the edges. 
 Over the tops of most of these heaped up baskets nodded 
 roses and bunches of yellow wild flowers. They advanced 
 with a regular step, some of them holding up their baskets 
 with both hands to rest their heads. But not once did they 
 fail to re spond boisterously to the shout of the leader. ' * Long 
 live the Holy Mary of Refuge," "Long live the Holy Christ 
 of the Chapel, " he shouted, and they responded, * ' viva ! viva ! " 
 They were the grape-carriers, the "basket-carriers," as they 
 are called. In the months of August and September many 
 
REVELATIONS. 119 
 
 processions of these basket-carriers go about the streets, as 
 in those months the laborers of every landlord in this grape- 
 growing district are bringing the grapes from his hacienda to 
 the wine cellars of his town house where the wine is to be 
 made. Their shouting at the bringing in of the vintage was 
 not agreeable to many of the citizens of Salta, and even the 
 president of the town had mildy remonstrated with them, but 
 the sturdy basket-carriers had reminded him that it was a 
 very old custom, and that at this season and in this occupa- 
 tion they were privileged characters. 
 
 Herr Gaussen stood still and watched them. A daintily 
 dressed child of less than two years had escaped from its nurse 
 and stood just outside the street door of the house opposite. 
 It extended its dimpled hand to salute the workman nearest 
 it. He stooped under his heavy load, gently shook the little 
 hand, and then passed on. Every carrier who followed him 
 did the same as the tiny hand was extended to each one. 
 
 The house of their employer was only a little farther up 
 the street. As they approached the wide front entrance the 
 leader shouted repeatedly, according to long established cus- 
 tom: ' ' Long live Our Lady of Guadalupe ! " the others respond- 
 ing each time with gusto : ' ' Viva ! viva ! " The Virgin of Guada- 
 lupe is the patron saint of Mexico. 
 
 They passed in, traversed the first court, and entered 
 the wine cellar which opened on -the second court. Herr 
 Gaussen followed them knowing that it would be understood 
 that he, as a foreigner, wished to see this strange phase of 
 the country's life. 
 
 There were several large stone vats in the cellar; in all of 
 tbtem barefooted men were tramping the grapes to the sound 
 of music. They waded deep in the juice of the vine, the 
 perspiration pouring from their slightly clad bodies; often 
 they slipped and fell and lay in the red liquid, having only 
 strength left from that fatiguing exercise to keep their heads 
 above the surface. 
 
 The foreign gentleman wondered how much of the fine flavor 
 of the celebrated wine which issued from those wine presses 
 
120 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 was due to the manner of its preparation. It also occurred to 
 him that whatever of pastoral poetry there was in the vintage 
 and in the treading of the wine press it must be for the look- 
 ers on and not for those engaged in those occupations. It 
 often happens so. 
 
 At length Herr Gaussen, who stood talking in French with 
 the overseer, looked at his watch and found that it was six 
 o'clock. He excused himself and hastened back to the hotel. 
 
 He did not remember ever having in his life given so much 
 attention to his toilette as he did this evening. The supper 
 was late, but "it was over at last. At another time he would 
 have been amused to see the gentlemen embracing as friend 
 encountered friend in the dining room, to see the elaborate 
 bowing and waving of hands, the courteous and long-drawn- 
 out contests as to which should pass through the door first, 
 as to which should be served first. But now he ate as quickly 
 as possible aud hastened away. 
 
 At last he and Frederica stood face to face. There was 
 nothing extraordinary about their meeting, for though, when 
 Frederica had read his note she had hastily closed her door 
 and knelt by her bed, trembling and burying her face in the 
 snowy cover, and had with the greatest difficulty controlled 
 her thoughts and her hand to reply in a matter-of-fact way 
 she had schooled herself through the succeeding hours to per- 
 mit no heightened color nor trembling of the hands to betray 
 her. 
 
 They shook hands and sat down; they made the usual in- 
 quiries and replies; they talked of his tour through the United 
 States, of his impressions of the town, of mutual friends in 
 Germany. 
 
 But when they first looked each into the face of the other 
 a great heart ache had seized each of them for the lost youth 
 of the other. It would come to each of them after awhile 
 that whatever there was of lines in the face of the other or of 
 silver in the hair, were indications of a riper and richer charac- 
 ter wrought out for him by the experiences of joy and sorrow 
 through the revolving years. But that must be an after 
 
REVELATIONS. 121 
 
 knowledge; in the first moments they could only be to them 
 signs of the years that to them were in a certain sense lost 
 years. 
 
 Gretchen and her husband came hi and were presented to 
 their cousin's friend. They talked awhile pleasantly and 
 then went out. No indication was given that either of them 
 thought of their former acquaintance till he held her hand at 
 parting and said: "I should like to call to see you to-morrow 
 evening, Frederica," then there was something hi his tone 
 and in the way he looked at her that sent the hot blood to her 
 cheeks. 
 
 But she answered indifferently enough: 
 
 ' ' We shall be glad to see you whenever it is convenient for 
 you to visit us." 
 
 The next evening she and Heir Gaussen sat talking as the 
 evening before. She sat on the sofa and he hi an arm chair 
 about two yards from her. He was thinking, "What is the 
 use of delay? She must know what has brought me to Salta. ; ' 
 He would speak his mind tonight if he could only bring it 
 about to do so naturally. If he could only annihilate that 
 two yards of space between them! He remembered that if 
 Marshal Ney's division could have reached the summit of 
 Mont- Saint- Jean, Napoleon would have gained the battle of 
 Waterloo. But there were difficulties La the way. Once he 
 arose and walked to the window, making some remark about 
 the plaza, intending to sit down on the sofa by her side. But 
 he returned to his chair. He was becoming desperate; he 
 was little accustomed to cowardice or embarrassment in the 
 presence of men or women. Presently he bethought him of 
 a railroad map which he had in his pocket. He took it out 
 saying: 
 
 "I was trying to-day to get a correct idea of the railroad 
 system of Mexico. Perhaps you will assist me. " It was only 
 natural, then, as well as necessary that he should go and 
 sit down by her that she might explain to him that interesting 
 subject. 
 
 "The two longest ttnes," she said, "connect points on the 
 
122 MRHCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Texas boundary line with the City of Mexico. They are, 
 this one from Laredo through Monterey, Saltillo and San 
 Luis Potosi to the City. It is a narrow guage road It is 
 called the National, you see. The other great line is the 
 Central, from El Paso, away up here in the North-west cor- 
 ner of Texas, to the City. Then this one, the International, 
 from Eagle Pass on the Texas line to the Pacific. You see it 
 has only reached Torrion as yet, but it will be built on through 
 Durango to the ocean. There is a road from Mexico City to 
 Vera Cruz; and besides these great trunk lines there are sev- 
 eral branches." 
 
 Now Herr Gaussen was not feeling the least interest in all 
 this; he could scarcely be said to hear it; but it was a matter 
 of no little consequence to him that his hand sometimes 
 touched hers as they glided about over the map. However 
 he folded it up so soon and changed the conversation that it 
 occurred to her that he had not felt so much interest in the 
 development of the country as she had at first thought. 
 
 Presently he said, "Frederica, I suppose you have guessed 
 why I came to Salta; 'were you glad to see me? " then he 
 thought that "Glad to see me," was the most unbecoming 
 thing he could have said, and her reply proved it to him. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose you had business in Salta; and of course 
 I am always glad to see old friends." 
 
 Then followed a long and awkward pause. She had, as if 
 carelessly, moved farther away from him. He looked at her 
 curiously; should he have to win her by some long process? 
 Perhaps he had been to hasty. But almost without resolving 
 to do so he made another effort. 
 
 "Are you still a Catholic? " he asked. He would not again 
 call her "Frederica," but he could not address her as a mere 
 acquaintance. 
 
 She felt the color coming into her face under his gaze but 
 she replied quietly: 
 
 "No, I am not a Catholic now. I I began to read the 
 Bible months ago. I could not read it and remain a Roman- 
 ist." She looked up at him and met h^s eyes. The tender- 
 ness and solemn joy in them thrilled her. 
 
REVELATIONS. 123 
 
 "Frederica," he said, "Frederica, if you had said such 
 words as those to me fifteen years ago our lives would have 
 been very different." 
 
 He saw her lips tremble and her bright head was bowed. 
 
 1 ' It is not too late yet. Will you marry me now? " 
 
 We know how she answered him. Some time that evening 
 she told him how the Sefiora Urbina's contemptuous words 
 about the congregations of ignorant people who gathered for 
 the study of the Sacred Scriptures, had reminded her of the 
 little New Testament which had been sent her by some one 
 soon after their parting. ' ' I knew you sent it, but I would 
 not read itf then. But I could not throw it away. I carried 
 it everywhere I went. I took it out of my trunk at last, it 
 has been six months ago and read it, and it was after that 
 that the great change came. You know how that is." 
 
 1 ' Yes, " he said gently, ' ' I know. " 
 
 * ' I have been very wicked and rebellious. I have not de- 
 served that God should be so kind to me now." 
 
 Then he told her about the strange command to come to 
 Salta, and she held her breath as she listened. But just be- 
 fore he left she said with a little laugh and a blush: "And so 
 you knew all the time that I would marry you at last, not- 
 withstanding my pretended indifference." 
 
 "Yes," he replied with a smile, "I knew it." 
 
124 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XTV. 
 
 A CIVIL MARRIAGE. 
 
 day or two afterward while Herr Gaussen was dining 
 with the family, Herr Bunnsen said to him: 
 
 ' * By the way; I had forgotten to tell you that you have to 
 notify the civil judge and have the bans published. I will go 
 with you this afternoon to his office." 
 
 "How is a marriage published here? " 
 
 "A written notice of it is pasted on the public buildings 
 where it will attract attention two weeks before the marriage 
 is to take place. Come to think of it, " he continued abruptly, 
 "your marriage will have to be published two months before- 
 hand." 
 
 "Why is that?", asked Herr Gaussen, laying down his 
 orange suddenly. 
 
 ' ' Because you don't live in this country. The object of the 
 law is to prevent imposition. When both the parties live in 
 the same town or state fifteen days is thought to be long 
 enough for any imposition to be exposed. But if one of them 
 lives in a foreign country a notice of his approaching mar- 
 riage must be sent to his home and published there so that if 
 there is any impediment to the marriage the civil judge may 
 be notified of it." 
 
 "And is there no help for it? I am extremely anxious to 
 get back to my business and my family, and especially as I 
 shall have the pleasure of carrying your cousin with me," he 
 added with a pleasant glance at Frederica. 
 
 "It is too bad that you should be detained so long," she 
 said. 
 
 "But after all you will have an opportunity to see some- 
 thing of the land of the Montezumas," said Gretchen by way 
 of consolation. 
 
A CIVIL MARRIAGE. 125 
 
 -'Yes," said Herr Bunnsen, "there are some things that 
 are really worth seeing. I will see if I can find time to run 
 about with you a little; unless you think the time would pass 
 more quickly and pleasantly here in Salta," he added with a 
 mischievous glance at Frederica. 
 
 " Perhaps we might all go south and visit the most inter- 
 esting cities, and to Yucatan, too, and to Central America to 
 see those wonderful ruins I studied about at school. O let's 
 do, papa!" said Helena getting up and going round to her 
 father's side to put her arm about his neck. She made a very 
 pretty picture. 
 
 "I wonder if you wouldn't like to go on to Peru and Para- 
 guay," said he, pinching her cheek. "But couldn't we, 
 mother, arrange to run down to Mexico and Pueblo for a few 
 weeks? My business will take me in that direction." 
 
 ' ' Why, yes, I should think we might if it is agreeable to 
 Herr Gaussen and Prederica. We promised Helena a little 
 trip during her vacation." 
 
 * ' I assure you I am very much obliged to you for your 
 kindness, but I must be getting back to Germany as soon as 
 possible. And Miss Helena will think there are no ruins here 
 worth looking at after she has seen a few ruined castles on 
 the Rhine." 
 
 It had been decided that Helena should accompany Fred - 
 erica to Germany to finish her education. 
 
 "But you know I should see those afterwards anyhow, the 
 one you used to live in, Aunt, and others besides. But after 
 all I'm not so sure they are more interesting than those here. 
 O I could explain the ruins here to you Herr Gaussen. I 
 have read about them till I feel quite learned on that subject." 
 And she went back to her place, for her mother had frowned 
 a little at her, the most serious form of rebuke she ever ad- 
 ministered to her rose-bud-faced daughter. 
 
 "But really it is a good law, that about the publication of 
 the bans," said Herr Bunnsen, returning to the original sub- 
 ject of conversation. " It is one of the best laws made by the 
 Constituent Congress. Juarez was one of the ruling spirits 
 
126 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 in that Congress. He was a fine man, a wonderful man, I 
 might say. He was wise and far seeing and moderate. He 
 was an Indian of pure blood. One who is acquainted with 
 his public career can scarcely believe that when he was twelve 
 years old he could not read and did not know a word of Spanish. 
 It makes one smile to think he was educated for the church; 
 for the Catholic Church has never had a more powerful and 
 inveterate enemy in Mexico. The reasons for the laws made 
 >by this Congress are very forcibly stated; this is especially 
 the case when they speak of the introduction of civil marriage 
 instead of religious marriage. Helena, if you will bring me 
 that thin red book on the third shelf of my book case I will 
 read Herr Gaussen a little of it. While he is spending these 
 two months with us we must teach him something about our 
 national history," he added with a smile. They speak thus 
 of marriage: 
 
 "The restoration" (to the officers of the civil law of the 
 right to preform the marriage ceremony,) "was not only just 
 and logical, but to the last degree necessary on account of the 
 enormous abuses which the spirit of faction and other causes 
 not less worthy of condemnation had introduced in the adminis- 
 tration of matrimony by the clergy. What right, what plaus- 
 ible reason could recommend that the foundation of society 
 and of the most interesting relations in the life of a man 
 should be left to the mercy and arbitrary power of bishops 
 sworn against liberty and the laws of the nation? Ought it 
 to be tolerated longer that matrimony should be in their hands 
 a weapon of sedition, and that men whose only crime has 
 been to obey the laws of their country should not be able like 
 all other men to make legitimate the election of the companion 
 of their lot and of their life? Should it be longer permitted 
 that in many cases money should be one of the accepted means 
 for dispensing with the impediments to marriage? And should 
 it be allowed that in a democracy poverty should often be a 
 positive impediment to marriage irreproachable so far as 
 morality and justice are concerned?" 1 
 
 l Note. It is said that before the laws took marriage out of the hands 
 of the Church matrimony was impossible for about two-thirds of the 
 
A CIVIL MARRIAGE. 127 
 
 " Now how does that strike you?" asked Herr Bunnsen. 
 
 4 'That is very good. I do not doubt I should admire it 
 very much if the author did not interfere with my plans just 
 at this time. But what does he mean exactly by civil 
 marriage? " 
 
 ' * That means that in this country no priest nor minister 
 of the gospel of any denomination can unite persons in mat- 
 rimony. It is declared by the laws of Mexico to be a union 
 of Church and State, and they will have none of it. You 
 will have to be married by the civil judge or go up to the 
 United States where they have union of Church and State to 
 that extent, to be married by a minister of the gospel." 
 
 ' * So they consider that a religious marriage indicates union 
 between Church and State ? " 
 
 "You see how it is. In the United States a minister of the 
 gospel, for the simple reason that he is such, is entitled to 
 the privilege of performing the marriage ceremony. The 
 civil marriage is not objectionable when one becomes accus- 
 tomed to the idea," he added after a pause. "A minister of 
 one's own faith can be invited to be present and to pray. 
 The Catholics go through the whole ceremony of marriage 
 in their churches after the civil marriage, and the priests as- 
 sure the parties that the religious marriage alone is valid, 
 while the law, at the same time that it permits the religious 
 marriage by a wise toleration, declares that it amounts to 
 nothing. The ministers of some of the Protestant denomina- 
 tions also perform the marriage ceremony after the civil 
 marriage, declaring at the same time with charming naivete 
 that it is a mere farce. I was present once at one of these 
 mock marriages. It was in a Protestant chapel. The bride 
 was in white dress, veil and orange blossoms. The pastor, 
 
 inhabitants of Mexico, because they could not afford to pay a priest to 
 perform the ceremony. Even since the adoption of the law which makes 
 marriage a civil contract a large proportion of the ignorant people, if 
 they can possibly save the money, are married by the Church alone, 
 being taught by the priests that the civil marriage is not valid. Few 
 besides the well-to-do are married both ways; and fewer still, except 
 those whom the Church calls heretics, will risk their souls and sacrifice 
 their respectability by being married by the civil law alone. 
 
128 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 after telling them that they were already married, went 
 through the whole ceremony as if he were uniting them in 
 marriage." 
 
 "Well," said Herr Gaussen, taking out his watch, "do you 
 suppose the civil judge has finished his siesta by this time and 
 opened his office? I am anxious to see if he can on any 
 grounds give me a dispensation that will make it possible for 
 us to go home in less than two months." 
 
 "Ah, my dear sir," said Herr Bunnsen as he took down 
 the hats, "you ought to have brought with you in your pock- 
 ets, some papers duly signed by the civil officers of your town 
 testifying that you were a proper subject for matrimony. A 
 marriageable man should never leave home to travel in a 
 foreign country without such papers, for though he may have 
 no intention when he starts of looking for a companion, there 
 is no telling what may happen before he returns to his father- 
 land!" 
 
 "Oscar!" said the Senora de Bunnsen, in a shocked tone. 
 
 Herr Gaussen only smiled as he said good evening to the 
 ladies and bowed himself out. 
 
 They found the judge in his office. When they informed 
 him of their business he seated himself on a very high stool 
 at a very high desk, supporting his feet on a box and did the 
 necessary writing in a large book. When he was consulted 
 about the time it was necessary for the bans to be published 
 he said: 
 
 "If the Sefior knows any reliable person in Mexico who can 
 testify that he is eligible for matrimony it will not be neces- 
 sary to wait longer than two weeks if his testimony can be 
 received in that time.'' 
 
 "Ah, I have it!" exclaimed Herr Gaussen. "I am ac- 
 quainted with the German Consul in the City of Mexico. " 
 
 So he had his "dispensation " and the marriage was to take 
 place in two weeks after all. 
 
 The evening of the marriage came. Most of the invited 
 guests were present. Curiosity had been sufficient to bring 
 them, though they were all more or less scandalized that the 
 
A CIVIL MARRIAGE. 129 
 
 German lady whom they had known as a Catholic, should 
 marry a Protestant. 
 
 Mercedes was there in her dainty white dress, broken- 
 hearted over the coming loss of her friend, and uncertain 
 whether she should rejoice or be sad at her happiness, since 
 she was to marry a Protestant. But she could not help think- 
 ing when Frederica introduced her to him that he seemed to 
 be in every way worthy of even her beloved teacher, unless 
 it were in that mysterious, indefinable moral lack which pre- 
 vented his being a Catholic. 
 
 The ceremony was performed by the civil judge. He was 
 accompanied by the alcalde (another civil officer), and by two 
 witnesses. Besides these two witnesses, there were v two 
 chosen by the bride and two by the groom. Herr Gaussen 
 and Frederica stood before the Judge. 
 
 "Sefior Gaussen," said the judge, pronouncing the name 
 as well as he could, but certain that no one would have known 
 under other circumstances whom he addressed, "Do you re- 
 ceive for a wife the Senorita Van Ness who is present? " 
 
 "Yes, Senor." 
 
 "Senorita Van Ness, do you receive for a husband the 
 Senor Gaussen who is present? " 
 
 "Yes, Senor.'' 
 
 Then at his request they joined hands. While they stood 
 thus he read them some articles of the law framed by the 
 Constituent Congress: 
 
 1st, That matrimony was a civil contract; 2nd, that those 
 who were married were entitled to all the rights and pre- 
 rogatives which the civil laws conceded to the married; 3rd, 
 that bigamy and polygamy were prohibited; 4th, that a di- 
 vorce could be obtained for certain grave causes mentioned 
 in another article, but that this legal separation did not leave 
 the divorced free to marry another person. 
 
 The judge then said: 
 
 "I, as judge of the civil register of this municipality, sol- 
 emnly declare that I have concluded this civil contract be- 
 
 9 
 
130 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 fore the witnesses who, with me, sign the deed, and that you 
 ar.e legally married for all lawful purposes." 
 
 He then read them more of the law to the effect "that the 
 man whose especial gifts are courage and strength ought to 
 give and will give to the woman protection, encouragement 
 and direction, treating her always as the more delicate, fine 
 and sensitive part of himself, and with the magnanimity and 
 generous benevolence that the strong owes to the weak, 
 especially when this weak one has delivered herself to him, 
 and when she has been confided to him by society. That the 
 woman, the principal endowments of whose sex are self- 
 denial, beauty, compassion, perspicacity and tenderness ought 
 to give and will give to the husband, obedience, affability, 
 assistance, consolation and counsel, treating him always with 
 the veneration which is due to the person who supports and 
 defends,, and with the delicacy of one who would not wish to 
 exasperate the ruder, more irritable and sterner part of her- 
 self. That each should treat the other with respect, deffer- 
 ence, fidelity, confidence and tenderness; and that it should 
 be the aim of both that what the one expects from the other 
 when he enters into this contract should not be disappointed 
 in their union. That each should try to moderate and to 
 lessen his faults, etc." 
 
 Then followed various quaint and wholesome counsels rel- 
 ative to the future years. After this, the deed was signed by 
 the witnesses and by Herr Gaussen and Prederica. 
 
 Then followed the congratulations, much conversation, an 
 elegant supper, and more conversation, during all of which 
 Herr Gaussen, though unable to talk except with one or two 
 German guests and two or three gentlemen and ladies who 
 spoke a little English, conducted himself with so much dignity 
 and grace that all of the ladies thought it " a great pity that 
 such a nice gentleman should be a Protestant." 
 
 To himself and to Frederica it was a circumstance to be 
 regretted that there could be no religious exercises in con- 
 nection with their marriage. " I like the civil marriage," he 
 
A CIVIL MARRIAGE. 131 
 
 % 
 
 said, ' ' but I should be glad if we could have a prayer by a 
 minister of the gospel. " But in the few minutes that he and 
 Frederica were left alone before they entered the parlor to be 
 married he drew her hand into his arm and they bowed their 
 heads while he prayed that their union might be for the glory 
 of God, for their own spiritual good, and for the good of all 
 with whom they should be associated. 
 
 The next morning they, accompanied by Helena, started 
 for Germany. Herr Bunnsen and Gretchen were left alone. 
 They soon decided to join their boys and girl. 
 
 After they were gone the house ; * remained awhile silent 
 and tenantless, then went to strangers;" and Mercedes could 
 never again enter the room where she had spent so many 
 happy hours as a student. 
 
132 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 FROM SAINT IGNACIUS DE LOYOLO. 
 
 I HAVE said that in the days of preparation for Frederica's 
 marriage that Something that had grasped the conscience 
 of Mercedes gradually relaxed its hold. She could not de- 
 termine what was right nor what was wrong in her conduct 
 with regard to the masses for her father, and it seemed to 
 her at last that the only thing for her to do was to let it slip 
 out of her mind as she felt that it was doing. 
 
 Her father was becoming to her a sad, sweet memory. She 
 clutched desperately at her grief for him as she felt it es- 
 caping from her; but she could not reverse the order of a 
 kind Providence. There are sickly natures which bereave- 
 ment blights forever, but Mercedes was too young and strong 
 and healthful both in body and mind not to recover from this 
 grief. 
 
 There were doubts in her mind in these days about the 
 existence of purgatory, but she was sometimes troubled with 
 doubts about the existence of all unseen things. Now and 
 then, and more frequently than formerly there flashed through 
 her mind like lightning, the thought, "Is there a God? " It 
 always frightened her. 
 
 In the conversation of the gentlemen who frequented the 
 house she detected a tone which indicated no great respect 
 for the Church, though they were always, she noticed, on 
 their guard in the presence of Dona Flavia. She was con- 
 vinced, though she had been slow to come to that conclusion, 
 that Don Francisco was no admirer of the Church. When 
 Dofia Flavia had expressed disgust that Frederica should 
 marry a Protestant he had said some mild words of defence. 
 Everything tended to produce confusion of ideas with respect 
 to religion. 
 
FROM SAINT IGNACIUS DE LOYOLO. 133 
 
 One morning she and Dofia Flavia and the children sat at 
 the breakfast table. A servant brought in some little papers 
 which had been thrown at the door. They contained the day 
 of the month, an advertisement and the date of the declara- 
 tion of the infallibility of the Pope. Mercedes read it and 
 then that same longing to know the truth which had prompted 
 her to make startling inquiries before, majde her look up 
 wistfully at Dona Plavia and ask: 
 
 ' ' Dona Flavia, do you really believe in the infallibility of 
 the Pope? " 
 
 That lady instantly assumed a more reserved air as she 
 looked at the girl curiously. "Yes, in matters pertaining to 
 the Church I believe he is infallible," she replied. "But," 
 she exclaimed after a pause, turning her beautiful face toward 
 Mercedes and looking at her with wide open defiant eyes as 
 if she represented the Papacy, " if I should do anything that 
 he did not approve of and he should excommunicate me and 
 should declare that I never could be saved but must be for- 
 ever lost, do you suppose I should believe him? By no means. 
 He is only a human being like myself." 
 
 Ah, Dona Flavia, would not your excommunication 'by the 
 Pope be a matter pertaining to the Church? It is marvelous 
 how Catholics can contradict themselves. Mercedes was 
 more puzzled than ever, but then both sides were true "some- 
 how " she ought to believe, and she did of course. 
 
 ' ' The priests teach that to the common people but they 
 never try to make us, the enlightened class, believe it. They 
 know, of course, that it is not the truth," continued the lady. 
 
 ' ' Then do you mean to say that that the priests teach what 
 they know to be false? " 
 
 "Why, yes, of course they teach falsehoods constantly to 
 the common people. It is necessary in order to keep them in 
 subjection to the Church. They are so ignorant that the priests 
 can't appeal to their reason and therefore they must be con- 
 trolled by these stories. But they never teach them to us," 
 she reaffirmed proudly. 
 
 Ah, Dona Flavia, are you quite sure? 
 
134 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "But is it right to tell lies?" asked Mercedes. The doc- 
 trine was by no means new to her; she was only trying to 
 understand it now that she sat at the feet of one who was so 
 capable of solving her difficulties. 
 
 ' ' O yes, when any good is to come of it. They invent and 
 tell these stories, you know, to keep them in the fold of the 
 Church. Their. ignorance makes such a measure necessary. 
 It is also because of their ignorance that they are not per- 
 mitted to read the New Testament. It is written in so elevated 
 a style that they could not understand it. They would get 
 all sorts of perverted ideas from it; and therefore it is best 
 for them to know only what the priests think proper to teach 
 them about it. " 
 
 Mercedes wondered if there was danger that the enlight- 
 ened class might get perverted ideas from the New Testa- 
 ment, for 'she knew that they, too, were forbidden to read it. 
 She persisted, though she knew that she was treading on 
 dangerous ground: 
 
 ' Then it is right to tell lies under certain circumstances?" 
 * O yes, it is right to tell them when it is done for the good 
 of the Church," replied the Catholic lady with the air of one 
 who was giving some useful and important information 
 
 Just then Don Francisco passed through the room. He 
 had been "giving a turn" as he would have said, in the 
 orchard. His wife appealed to him: 
 
 " O, Francisco, am I not right? Is it not right to tell false- 
 hoods when any good is to come of telling them ? 
 
 "Certainly, certainly," replied the gentleman, with a su- 
 perior air and very emphatically, "it is right to tell false- 
 hoods or to do anything else from which good is to result. " 
 And he passed out of the room. 
 
 "I suppose, then, it is. right to steal under certain circum- 
 stances, as we have always heard that it was? " asked Merce- 
 des glancing a little uneasily at the children who had lingered 
 about the room listening at the conversation. 
 
 "Certainly," replied the lady without hesitation, "under 
 the circumstances designated by the Church stealing is right. 
 
FROM SAINT IGNACIUS DE LOYOLO. 135 
 
 The Fathers established degrees with regard to all kinds of 
 theft. One may steal a great many small sums from different 
 persons and not commit a great sin, because he does not injure 
 any person very much ; but if he steals the amount of those 
 small sums from one person he does commit a grave sin. But 
 there are cases in which stealing is not a sin at all, " continued 
 the good lady with the air of a theologian. 
 
 ' ' For example, secret compensation is right. If some one 
 owed me a debt and would not pay it I might take secretly the 
 property of the debtor to the value of the debt. If one should 
 be condemned by judgment to pay a debt which he had not 
 contracted, or which he had already paid, he could have re- 
 course to secret compensation. A servant, if he is not paid 
 enough, or if he is overworked, may pay himself secretly from 
 the property of his master. But you are familiar with all 
 this." 
 
 ' ' I suppose you accept the teachings of the Church with re- 
 gard to all the other great sins? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, it has been decided by the high authorities that under 
 certain circumstances it is not wrong to commit even the 
 greatest sins murder, for instance. But these things are 
 above our comprehension. It is our duty merely to submit our- 
 selves to those who are over us in authority and ask no ques- 
 tions. By the way, Mercedes," she said with her low, mu- 
 sical laugh as she arose from the table, ' ' are you overworked, 
 or do I owe you anything? " 
 
 ' ' No, Senora, " said the girl, lifting her head proudly and 
 looking her full in the face as the blood swept over her fore- 
 head and cheeks. ' * But if I were or if you did, I would not 
 steal." 
 
 ' ' She looks on me as one of the common people to whom 
 the priests must teach lies. As common as I may be I would 
 not be so priest-ridden as to believe such doctrines as she has 
 just stated in the presence of her children! " she thought as 
 she stepped out into the court and glanced up into the blue 
 sky. 
 
 "O that I did know right from wrong," she said in her 
 heart, " but I'll do the best I can." 
 
136 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ST. FRANCISCO'S DAY. 
 
 T N HERE were in those days some circumstances connected 
 with the home life in Don Francisco's handsome house 
 which had the effect of driving serious thoughts from Merce- 
 des' mind. In the last days of September and the first of Octo- 
 ber there was much preparation and secrecy in the great house. 
 The 4th of October was Don Francisco's "Saint's day," and 
 every member of the family was busy preparing a present for 
 him. Dona Flavia was making a handkerchief case, Mercedes 
 a pair of slippers, one of the little girls was embroidering his 
 name on a handkerchief, the others were making other pretty 
 and useful things; and if the work of the plump little hands 
 was not perfect, it still showed much youthful skill, and the 
 little maidens knew as they sat working with pursed-up 
 mouths that their loving efforts would be appreciated by 
 "Papa." The boys had bought presents with their own 
 spending money, after much consultation with Mama and 
 Mercedes, and much talking around Papa to see what he 
 would probably like. 
 
 You must know that in this country "saint's days," and 
 not birth days, are kept. The child is generally named for 
 the saint on whose day it is born, but if another name is pre- 
 ferred it is given and the day of the saint who bears that 
 name is kept with festivities instead of the birth day. It was 
 so in this case; Don Francisco was born in June, but his 
 mother was so impressed with the Roman Catholic virtues of 
 St. Francis of Assizi that she conferred his name on her baby. 
 Don Francisco had made up his mind long ago that his distin- 
 guished namesake was a thief, a liar and a madman, but it did 
 not seem to him desirable on that account to set himself against 
 what seemed to him a delightful custom in connection with 
 
ST. FRANCISCO'S DAY. 137 
 
 his home life. If any one in Protestant America is inclined 
 to blame him, let him remember that he keeps Christmas, 
 another Roman Catholic institution, with the giving of gifts 
 and much joy fulness of heart. As to Saint Francis, I don't 
 suppose he was thought of on that day unless Dofia Flavia, 
 in her morning devotions, implored his continued protection 
 and grace for her husband. 
 
 The presents were given after breakfast, and they were 
 received with much appreciation. There were many little 
 reminders of love and esteem from relatives and friends out- 
 side the family. Don Francisco was never so happy as on 
 his "saint's day," unless it was on the day of Dona Flavia's 
 saint; and he remembered this one afterward as the happiest 
 he had ever had, perhaps because it contrasted so sharply 
 with the days which followed. Sad changes come sometimes 
 near the close of long and prosperous lives. But there was 
 no cloud over this day; if Don Francisco felt any appre- 
 hensions they were only such as he had long been accustomed 
 to. 
 
 A large company of relatives was invited to dinner. The 
 grown people ate at a long table in the dining room, the chil- 
 dren under fifteen years old at tables in the adjoining rooms. 
 The Senor Cure, though a distant relative of the family, did 
 not grace this feast with his presence, perhaps because such 
 innocent domestic pleasures were too tame for his tastes. 
 Don Francisco reflected that his absence, like every thing 
 else, contributed to his happiness to-day. 
 
 "I am always," said a sister-in-law of Don Francisco to 
 Mercedes, speaking from the fullness of her heart as she 
 passed her in the corridor on her way to the dining-room, 
 ' 'I am always very contented when Francisco is happy with 
 his friends." And Mercedes thought a minute later as she 
 glanced at the faces around that hospitable board that they 
 were all very contented. And she thought, too, how well 
 her master deserved it all. If there was any lingering re- 
 sentment for the wrongs done to her people she said to her- 
 self heartily that he w r as not to blame for them; he was noble 
 
138 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 and good; he was a victim of a system just as she was. It 
 was very pleasant to her to feel in unison with them all on 
 that day. 
 
 In this gathering of intimate friends there was not much of 
 that ceremony which attracts the attention of foreigners in 
 the hotels and on the streets. Now and then, notwithstand- 
 ing the attendance of numerous servants a gentleman arose 
 from his seat, and went to the other end of the table and 
 brought a dish to help the lady by his side. Don Francisco, 
 himself, in the excess of his hospitality and pleasure went 
 around the table with one or two dishes, stopping now and 
 then to join in a gay conversation or start one. There were 
 thirteen courses before the dessert, that is, four or five more 
 than they had every day. According to invariable custom 
 the first was soup and the last was frijoles or dried beans, a 
 dish handed down 'to them from Aztec ancestors. The latter 
 were brought in soup plates and eaten with spoons. Some 
 of the dishes were so red and some so green that the Amer- 
 ican lady who sat at one end of the table reflected as she ate 
 them that if they would not hurt Mexicans they would not 
 poison Americans either. There were roast and turkey in 
 dishes of gravy that was not only fiery in color but fiery in 
 taste, too, from the abundant accompaniment of the national 
 chile or red pepper. There was "coffee with milk," as they 
 would have said, not meaning to indicate by that expression 
 that the sugar was wanting. There was an abundance and a 
 variety of wines. For dessert a small glass dish of very 
 sweet preserves was set before each person. This he ate 
 without bread or cake. Then followed fruit, and at last the 
 wine glasses were lifted all at the same time and while they 
 were held thus one of the gentlemen addressed to the host a 
 speech of congratulation, to which he replied with a bow, a 
 smile and a graceful wave of the hand; each couple then 
 clinked their glasses together and the wine was drunk. This 
 ceremony was repeated several times. But there was no 
 intemperate drinking in the dining-room. 
 
 The children in one of the adjoining rooms gaily followed 
 
ST. FRANCISCO'S DAY. 139 
 
 the example of a handsome but naughty nephew of Dona 
 Flavia's and drank the glasses of wine which they found by 
 their plates, and before touching their soup sent a servant to 
 the dining room asking for more wine. 
 
 This was very amusing to the company. One benevolent- 
 looking old gentleman who occupied a seat of honor near Don 
 Francisco's chair, the grandfather of several of the children, 
 was especially amused; he called the attention of all those 
 near him to the fact that "before those children had begun 
 to eat they had drunk all their wine and had sent for more/' 
 
 A nurse passed through the dining room with a baby, a baby 
 as rosy and dimpled and divine-looking as any a Madonna 
 ever clasped. A wine glass was pressed to his laughing, 
 rose-bud lips. Mrs. Peek, the American lady whose husband 
 Tiad recently been employed by Don Francisco as overseer of 
 his vineyards, and who was stopping with the family until 
 her husband could rent a house, thought she understood now 
 why it was that one of the little girls of the family sometimes 
 slipped into the pantry and drank wine until she had to sleep 
 off the effects of it. 
 
 Mercedes sat by a gentleman of middle age, a lawyer from 
 a neighboring city. He had found that he had by his side a 
 bright girl, an interested listener, and he was taking a 
 kindly pleasure in talking to her. He told her something 
 of his college days in the City of Mexico and afterwards with 
 the Jesuits in California. 
 
 *I was hi college hi the City of Mexico," he said, "during 
 the reign of Maximilian and Carlotta. The Grand Duke" 
 true patriot that he was, he would not say "the Emperor" 
 "The Grand Duke was very handsome, handsomer than the 
 Grand Duchess, but both of them w r ere kind and were liked by 
 the Mexicans. Maximilian's state carriage is hi the National 
 Museum now. It is very fine, all gilt and crimson velvet, 
 with little gilt cupids flying about it. It was drawn by six 
 white horses. There were little silver bells on the harness, 
 and when the people heard the bells they all ran out to the 
 street or to the doors and windows to see the royal carriage 
 
140 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 pass. When you go to Mexico you will see the carriage and 
 many other interesting things in the Museum. " 
 
 Mercedes gave a little start and said quickly, "O, I don't 
 expect to ever go to Mexico; I'd as soon think of a trip to the 
 moon. " 
 
 "t can't be so impossible as that," he replied, smiling. 
 "No communication has as yet been established between the 
 earth and the moon, you know." Then after a little pause 
 he continued, "French was the language of the court, so all 
 of us young fellows thought it would be the greatest of 
 accomplishments to speak French. We were not thinking 
 so much about our rights and liberties as about the splendor 
 of the court." 
 
 "Were there any titled people in the court except the sov- 
 ereigns ?" asked Mercedes, unable to imagine a court without 
 them, and yet equally unable to imagine nobility in plain,, 
 republican Mexico. 
 
 "O yes, the emperor, as they called him, made dukes and 
 duchesses of the wealthy Mexicans who were about him." 
 
 "And what did they do with their titles when he was 
 dethroned !" asked Mercedes, laughing. 
 
 "They had to put* them into their pockets then," replied 
 the gentleman with evident enjoyment. 
 
 "Napoleon III. was very unkind and unjust to Mexico in 
 trying to establish a monarchy here, wasn't he ?" asked Mer- 
 cedes by way of continuing so interesting a conversation. 
 
 "Yes, and it was a just punishment of Providence that he 
 should be dethroned and banished from his kingdom. " 
 
 Just then they noticed that there was a lull in the conver- 
 sation around the table. They had all ceased talking out of 
 respect for the benevolent-looking old gentleman who had 
 been so much amused at the request of the children for more 
 wine. He was beginning a story in his slow, measured tones. 
 Perhaps he thought there was too much discussing of history 
 and literature and social events; the claims of religion should 
 not be so long forgotten. He was saying: 
 
 "The other day I read in a newspaper that a poor woman 
 
ST. FRANCISCO'S DAY. 141 
 
 in whose family there had been a death went to a priest and 
 asked him for money to defray the burial expenses, request- 
 ing him at the same time to come to her house and see the 
 need for charity He went; and while he was there he 
 noticed on a table a pile of books. He picked up some of 
 them and found among them a poisonous reptile. He took 
 it up by the tail and it was turned to stone in his hand. He 
 gave it to the poor woman and told her to sell it as a curios- 
 ity for the money which she needed. It was evidently a 
 miracle," he added in conclusion, "to supply the need of the 
 poor woman." 
 
 "Evidently," fervently repeated his pretty daughter- in- 
 law, who sat by his side. 
 
 Mercedes did not mean to see anybody after this narrative; 
 she felt instinctively that Don Francisco would be ashamed 
 of it and she pitied him; but it was a vital question to her 
 the truth or falsehood of this, the only religion which she 
 knew. She would give not a little to know what these intel- 
 ligent, cultured men thought of the Church and her miracles. 
 One swift, involuntary glance around the table before She 
 fixed her eyes on her plate showed her that some of the gen- 
 tlemen were steadily contemplating the contents of their 
 plates while others were watching Mrs. Peek. That lady 
 -was a Protestant. She and her husband attended the meet- 
 ings in the humble hall over whose door was the inscription, 
 "Culto Evangelico," and tried to understand the sermon of 
 the humble Mexican preacher. Her boys went there to 
 Sunday-school, and neither she nor her husband cared who 
 knew it. It was probable that her husband would lose his 
 position on account of it, unless he could make his services 
 so invaluable to his employer that a wife's influence would 
 have little weight in comparison with that consideration, but 
 that worthy pair, prompted either by their natural independ- 
 ence, or by higher motives, persisted in their course. 
 
 Mrs. Peek had listened respectfully to the story, and when 
 a brief glance had shown her that she was an object of atten- 
 tion, she thought, during the awkward silence which followed: 
 
142 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "They needn't be looking at 'the Protestant; ' she is not so 
 incredulous as they may suppose, for it seems very natural 
 to her that the touch of a Roman Catholic priest should turn 
 even a poisonous reptile to stone. " But the next moment she 
 said to herself, reproachfully, "Now that is mean of me. 
 The gentlemen looked at me because they were so ashamed 
 of the story. The women all believe it, I suppose. They do 
 believe such things." 
 
 Some excuse was found just then to adjourn to the parlor. 
 The afternoon was passed pleasantly with conversation, 
 music, walks in the orchard, and promenading in the broad 
 corridor around the court. With the evening many other in- 
 vited guests arrived. The young gentlemen dropped in 
 alone, that is without ladies, unless, as it sometimes hap- 
 pened, one brought his mother; fathers and mothers arrived 
 with their daughters. An elegant supper was spread in the 
 dining room. A large room had been arranged for dancing. 
 
 The parlor presented an animated appearance; there were 
 groups of young ladies and young gentlemen, the former not 
 far from their "mamas," though apparently quite easy under 
 the maternal surveillance. There were also groups of older 
 ladies and gentlemen sitting near the walls, and conversing 
 pleasantly. 
 
 Mercedes' attention was attracted by a conversation be- 
 tween Mrs. Peek and three or four ladies who had been pres- 
 ent at dinner. They had evidently observed that the eyes of 
 the gentlemen had been directed toward the Protestant lady 
 after the unfortunate narrative of the benevolent old gentle- 
 man, and they were taking their feminine revenge. 
 
 "Is it customary, Mrs. Peek," said a plump, handsome 
 young matron hi black velvet, "for American gentlemen to 
 push back their chairs after dinner, and put their feet on the 
 dining table to smoke? " 
 
 "No," replied Mrs. Peek, with slightly heightened color, 
 4 ' I never knew of an American gentleman's doing so. Why 
 do you ask? " 
 
 "Well, I didn't know," said the lady sweetly. "You know 
 
ST. FRANCISCO'S DAY. 143 
 
 the customs in different countries are so different; and I've 
 heard that gentlemen from the United States do that in the 
 hotels here." 
 
 Then after a little more indifferent talking a tall, slender, 
 graceful young lady with lustrous brown eyes and soft, 
 abundant brown hair, whose brunette beauty was heightened 
 by a dress of some soft cream and pink material, said pleas- 
 antly: 
 
 1 ' Mrs. Peek, you attend the services of the Presbyterians 
 in the street of Ramos Arispe, don't you? " 
 
 "Yes, I frequently go. I am a Presbyterian." 
 
 "Is it true excuse me, I only ask for information does 
 the minister give money to those who attend the services? " 
 
 * ' No, he could not afford to do so. The minister is a very 
 poor man." 
 
 k ' But he might be supplied with money by the mission- 
 aries. I don't know, of course," she said apologetically, "but 
 I have heard that when he goes around shaking hands with 
 them all after the services he leaves a piece of money in the 
 hand of each one. " 
 
 "It is a mistake. I have never heard of any one's being 
 paid to attend the Protestant meetings. " 
 
 Mercedes was wondering who would give her the next cut 
 when she heard one lady say to another, evidently intending 
 that the Presbyterian lady should hear her remark: 
 
 ' * What enormous feet American ladies have ! And they do 
 wear such horrid shoes, with such broad toes and low, broad 
 heels!" 
 
 Mrs. Peek slipped her shapely foot, in a fine American 
 shoe, a little farther from under her dress, and continued to 
 ply her fan with much composure. 
 
 Then another, affecting to believe that Mrs. Peek was not 
 well enough acquainted with Spanish to understand her, said 
 in a low tone: 
 
 "What amazes me most is the behavior of the American 
 girls. I was shocked last Sunday night at the ball in the 
 casino at the way that girl who is visiting the Robledos con- 
 ducted herself. Did you notice it? " 
 
144 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ' ' No, I was not there. " 
 
 ' ' She didn't stay near Margarita Robledo at all. She was 
 all the time talking with young gentlemen, and she actually 
 stood out on the balcony and talked with one for awhile. 
 And they tell me that the young men call on her, and she 
 receives them alone in the parlor; and they say she even 
 takes rides with them. I can very well believe it, for I know 
 that last Sunday evening was a week ago she went alone to 
 the theater with a young gentleman, and after it was over he 
 took her home alone; she went right out into the dark with 
 him alone. After the play was over I saw him myself take 
 up her wrap and put it around her. I'd rather my daughter 
 were a nun in a convent than that she should come to con- 
 duct herself in that way." 
 
 "Perhaps," said the listener, kindly, "the young lady 
 doesn't know the customs of this country. Those things, I 
 think, are customary in the United States." 
 
 "Well," replied the other with a little laugh, "when I go 
 to the United States I may follow the customs of the United 
 States, but here I prefer those of my own country." 
 
 Just then Don Francisco came up and said, pleasantly: 
 
 "Mrs. Peek, I have been telling those gentlemen and ladies 
 over yonder about your singing, and they would like to hear 
 you sing some English songs. Will you let me take you to 
 the piano? With your permission, Senoras," he said, bowing 
 to the other ladies as Mrs. Peek arose to go. When she had 
 finished playing Mrs. Peek retired to her room. 
 
 Soon after the dancing began, and as the first couples of 
 girls and young gentlemen glided gracefully over the floor 
 Mercedes excused herself to Dofia Flavia and slipped out. 
 The scene would have been fascinating to her but for her 
 bereavement. Far into the night in her own room she heard 
 the music, the dancing in the ballroom, and the merry voices 
 of the children in the corridor. 
 
'AN AWFUL DAY." 145 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "AN AWFUL DAY." 
 
 IT was the day on which the Senora Dofia Flavia Salizar de 
 Urbina learned that her husband was a Mason. As she 
 remarked afterward, and as she will remember till the day of 
 her death with great distinctness, it was a beautiful day; the 
 sun shone as brightly as she had ever seen it, the birds sang 
 as sweetly, and the flowers in the court were just as gay. 
 There was no sign given her of coming trouble. 
 
 She went to mass, accompanied by Mercedes, and as they 
 returned a friend joined her. As she manifested a desire to 
 talk privately with Dona Flavia, Mercedes dropped behind, 
 but she could not help hearing, for the neighbor was excited 
 and talked louder than she intended. 
 
 "Flavia, did you know there was a Masonic lodge in 
 town? " 
 
 "Yes, Concepcion, I know it. Doesn't it seem that every- 
 thing conspires against the interests of the Holy Mother 
 Church in these wicked times? " 
 
 "Yes," said her companion, too full of the communication 
 that was struggling for utterance to notice Dofia Flavia's 
 pious reflection, "there is a lodge. They have fitted up a 
 room for their meetings at the back of the old college. Think 
 of their holding their meetings in a house that was built by 
 the Holy Fathers ! And more people belong to it than some 
 of us have any idea. Yes, there are men in this town who 
 have been Masons for a long time, and their wives have no 
 idea of it! There are a good many women in 'this town who 
 would leave their husbands if they knew they were Masons, 
 but the trouble is they don't know it." , 
 
 Dona Flavia looked at her curiously. 
 
 "But I've found it out now," went on the neighbor with 
 
 10 
 
146 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 great satisfaction. "They can't keep their wicked secret 
 forever. I can tell you who the Masons are." 
 
 Dona Flavia looked at her a little apprehensively. 
 
 ' 'You wouldn't suspect, now, that Juan Guerrero was a 
 Mason, would you? Well, he is, and his poor wife knows 
 nothing about it. It would kill her, poor child! if she knew 
 it. But she ought to know about it, and she shall know it 
 to-day. Ah, Flavia," she said, stopping short and laying her 
 hand on that lady's arm, "you love your husband and you 
 have been very happy all these years, but it would all be 
 over if you knew that he had been deceiving you, and had 
 been seeking to destroy his own soul by acting in defiance of 
 the Holy Church." 
 
 The missal slipped from Dofia Flavia's hand, and the rosary 
 almost fell. She was very pale. She began to say, ' 'I don't 
 believe it, " then checked herself. She did say, ' 'I think you 
 must be mistaken," but the other was ready with proofs. 
 When they reached Dona Flavia's door she paused. She was 
 convinced. A greater trouble than she had ever had before 
 in the whole course of her easy life had fallen on her. 
 
 "Adios, Concepcion," she said. "I cannot go in now; I 
 have something to attend to. Mercedes, I do not need com-: 
 pany; you can go on to school." 
 
 The gossiping neighbor would gladly have accompanied 
 her to see her "die," but something in Dona Flavia's face 
 forbade it. 
 
 The Sefiora de Urbina went back to the church which was 
 now almost deserted, and kneeling before the image of the 
 Virgin she repeated the "Ave Maria," the "Pater Noster," 
 and the "Apostles' Creed" an almost incredible number of 
 times. One who has not heard a Roman Catholic going 
 through that exercise can have no idea with what rapidity 
 they can be repeated. 
 
 There are those who exhort us to be specific in prayer. 
 The two last of these formulas are familiar to you. The 
 "Ave Maria" runs thus: 
 
 "God save thee, Mary; thou art full of grace; the Lord is 
 
''AN AWFUL DAY." 147 
 
 with thee; blessed art thou among women and blessed is thy 
 Son, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, 
 now, and in the hour of our death. Amen." 
 
 As she felt no relief of spirit from these exercises she went 
 on to repeat other prayers "to the most Holy Mary," prayers 
 which she had learned from her missal. If her memory 
 failed her she opened the book and read. 
 
 "I adore thee, oh thou who art full of grace! the Lord is 
 with thee. I adore thee, oh, instrument of our joy, through 
 which in thy Son the sentence of our condemnation was rent 
 and changed into judgment of blessing. I adore thee, oh, 
 temple of the glory of God! holy house of the king of heaven. 
 Thou art in Jesus Christ the reconciliation of God with men. 
 I adore thee, oh mother of our joy! in truth thou art blessed, 
 because thou alone among all women wast worthy to be 
 mother of our Creator: all nations call thee blessed; oh Mary! 
 if I put my confidence in thee I shall obtain the means of 
 salvation. If I am under thy protection I will fear nothing, 
 because to be thy true worshipper is a shield inpenetrable to 
 the assaults of my enemies." 
 
 Then with the hope of further propitiating her and gaining 
 her intercession hi this trial her rapid voice slipped on into a 
 confession of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin whom 
 she confessed as "my queen, my refuge, my life, my succor, 
 my defence, my joy, my fortress and my hope. " On and on 
 went the swift, low voice in the silent church and now and 
 then the words were borne on sobs: 
 
 "Oh. Queen of Heaven, of thee it was said: Who is this that 
 looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, chosen as the 
 sun. Thou didst come to the world as the resplendent morn- 
 ing, 'anticipating with the light of thy holiness the coming of 
 the Sun of righteousness. Oh day in which thou didst 
 appear in the world ! Well may it be called day of salvation 
 and grace. Thou art beautiful as the moon," etc. 
 
 Then again: 
 
 "Oh, Mother of Mercy, propitiate thy Son. All the world 
 recognizes thee, who art in the highest heaven, as the com- 
 
148 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 mon propitiation for all peoples. I beseech thee, oh most 
 holy Virgin ! to concede to me the succor of thy supplications 
 before God; supplications which are more estimable and more 
 precious than all the treasures of the earth; supplications 
 which oblige God to pardon our sins, and secure for us a 
 great abundance of grace; supplications which put to flight 
 our enemies, confound their designs, and triumph over their 
 ardent efforts. " 
 
 Two little girls who had been sent in with an offering of 
 flowers for the image of St. Felipe de Jesus told their moth- 
 ers that * 'Flavia Salizar was on her knees much time before 
 the image of the Blessed Virgin, and that she wept much. " 
 And it ivas true. 
 
 At last she went home with her head bowed and her thin 
 black silk shawl drawn closely about her face. She shut 
 herself in her room and went into a fit of hysterical weeping. 
 
 Just after the tragic close of the reign of the Emperor 
 Iturbide, in the first days of republican Mexico, that is dur- 
 ing the year 1825, "certain political clubs were organized 
 under the name and with the formulas of Masonic lodges of 
 the Yorkine rite, their founder being the priest of the parish 
 of Tobasco, and the senator for that State. In opposition to 
 these were the lodges of the Scotch rite, which were organ- 
 ized between 1813 and 1836 and which counted among their 
 members Negrete, Echavarri, Guerrero, and many prominent 
 leaders whose party favored the restoration of the mon- 
 archy." 
 
 The Yorkinos were the republican party, the Escoseses, or 
 those who belonged to the lodges of the Scotch rite, were the 
 royalist party, and to that party the clergy belonged as a 
 matter of course. The republic continued, but the Yorkine 
 party, through the faults of ambitious and unscrupulous 
 members, was destroyed. The lodges of the Scotch rite lost 
 their political power. They revived, but never since then 
 have they had a distinctive political character, though it is 
 probable that the many prominent men who belong to them 
 seek to use their connection with them for political ends. 
 
"AN AWFUL DAY." 149 
 
 When the royalist party was crushed out and Mexico be- 
 came thoroughly republican, the clergy, finding that the 
 Masonic lodges would no longer further their political designs, 
 withdrew from them. They found, moreover, that, as they 
 might express it, in introducing and fostering Free Masonry 
 they had warmed and nourished in their bosom a serpent 
 which was to turn and sting them, for the numerous lodges 
 were diffusing a spirit of inquiry and of religious liberty 
 among all ranks of the people. 
 
 When Don Francisco went home to dinner that day, he 
 looked into his study and not finding Dofia Flavia there he 
 started into their bedroom which opened into the study. The 
 door was locked. He was a little surprised; he went back 
 through the study and stepped into the corridor. A servant 
 saw him and came up to say that the ' 'Sefiora" had a severe 
 headache and had told her to tell him that she preferred not 
 to see any one; She had never before refused to see him no 
 matter how sick she was. 
 
 He was too much accustomed to dread that she should dis- 
 cover that he was connected with a Masonic lodge not to have 
 his apprehensions aroused. 
 
 When a school was to be selected for the sons of his first 
 marriage she had set her heart on their being placed in one 
 of the Catholic schools of the country, pleading that she had 
 a right to have something to say in the decision of that ques- 
 tion because she had been a good stepmother. He willingly 
 acknowledged that, but refused to place his sons in these 
 schools because, as he explained to her, they were all under 
 the influence of Jesuit priests. That argument had no weight 
 for her; and naturally when the question had to be decided 
 for her own sons the discussion led to worse feeling on her 
 part, for, knowing that he was in the right the father had 
 had his own way and had sent them first to secular schools hi 
 the City of Mexico and afterward to a college of the same 
 character in California. 
 
 As was to be expected, when Magdalena was to be sent 
 away from home to complete her education all of Don Fran- 
 
150 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO 
 
 Cisco's pleading and explaining was of no avail. He saw that 
 if he persisted he would be rushing into breakers worse than 
 he had ever anticipated. Sick at heart, he, the statesman, 
 who knew the teachings and influence of the Jesuits, the 
 philanthropist, who knew the character of convents, gave 
 his lovely and tenderly loved daughter into the care of the 
 nuns who had charge of one of the * ' Colleges of the Sacred 
 Heart of Jesus." Did he do right? He often asked himself 
 that, and generally answered his question by exclaiming, 
 desperately: "What else could I do? " 
 
 There were other things, too, for which he might well 
 anticipate trouble if a report of them should reach his wife's 
 ears. Perhaps she had seen a copy of a speech which he had 
 made during the last session of Congress, in which he had 
 spoken of Juarez as the "Savior of his Country,'* extolled 
 the law granting religious toleration, and made some obser- 
 vations which no one could consider complimentary to the 
 influence of the priests on the political affairs of Mexico, con- 
 cluding by reminding his hearers of the shameful words of a 
 Mexican prelate, uttered in a speech to the pope, that ' ' He 
 hoped the day would come when the Mexican eagle would 
 drag itself in the dust before the papal throne." 
 
 He remembered with satisfaction that this speech had been 
 much applauded in the Chamber, and there being no line in 
 the course of the years over which vanity may not accom- 
 pany us he had thought that * ' if Flavia could have heard 
 that speech, and the applause with which it was received, 
 she would have been proud that she was his wife if she 
 were not such a Catholic." Had that speech brought him 
 trouble? 
 
 His was an open and sincere nature; he would have been 
 glad to confide to his wife all his thoughts about politics, 
 religion and everything else, but her fanaticism had made it 
 necessary for him to conceal, as far as possible, his liberal, 
 patriotic, and philanthropic course in relation to the former. 
 With respect to the latter he said very little in her presence, 
 but persistently and earnestly he attempted to uproot from 
 
"AN AWFUL DAY." 151 
 
 the minds of his boys all belief in the superstitions of the 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 In this course he was attempting to counteract the equally 
 persistent and earnest instructions of their mother; and the 
 result was that the young people's minds were hi a sad state 
 of confusion. "Was father right? or was mother right? or 
 were they both right in some way that they could not under- 
 stand? " What are children to do when two infallible teachers 
 differ? What was Don Francisco to say when the bright eyes 
 of his boys dilated with surprise, and they replied: "But, 
 papa, mama says that the priests are good men, and that we 
 ought to confess to them, and do everything they tell us 
 to do"? 
 
 One by one, as they crept up into their teens, they learned 
 to listen in silence to both father and mother, and to pondei 
 in their own hearts, or discuss timidly among themselves 
 these contradictory instructions; and both father and mother 
 had been saddened over the growing silence on the part of 
 their sons. Each of them thought he was right and felt 
 aggrieved by the other. 
 
 Don Francisco had to give up his daughters almost entirely 
 to the influence of their mother; he could never get them into 
 his office down town and talk with them as he could with his 
 sons. 
 
 It was true, he had nothing to offer his boys in the place 
 of Roman Catholicism; but they had better have nothing than 
 that collection of degrading superstitions, he thought. "I 
 can give them nothing hi the place of it nothing but Free 
 Masonry " he said to himself drearily that afternoon, sitting, 
 with his elbows on his desk and his head on his hands, pon- 
 dering over these things as he was in the habit. of doing. 
 
 Free Masonry was not a religion. He was by no means 
 sure that compliance with the rules of that order was all that 
 a man needed to make him feel comfortable about that going 
 out into the dark alone after death. He knew from travel 
 and observation that the Protestant nations were character- 
 ized by prosperity and a spirit of progress, such as were to 
 
152 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 be found in no Catholic nation. He liked the principles 
 taught by these Protestant creeds, the " liberty, equality, and 
 fraternity; " they were what he liked best in Free Masonry, 
 too. He was glad for the Protestants to come to Mexico, 
 inasmuch as they diffused these principles. But as to the 
 Protestants themselves, he was not sure that they were so 
 much better than the Catholics. If the pagans had persecu- 
 ted the Catholics, and the Catholics had persecuted the 
 pagans and the Protestants, the Protestants had also perse- 
 cuted the Catholics and each other. 
 
 If Don Francisco had ever had a hint in his reading that 
 they were not all Protestants that were called Protestants, it 
 was a very vague one and it had made no impression on him. 
 How could he go feeling his way blindly up and down the 
 centuries, searching for "a little flock in the wilderness/' 
 who had never persecuted, but who had always been perse- 
 cuted; a people who had always taught and really practiced 
 those grand principles of Free Masonry, "Self-denial, liberty, 
 equality, and fraternity? " 
 
 "Pietists that is what all these Protestants are," he said 
 to himself, "with their strict observance of Sunday, their 
 refusing to go to balls and theaters on that day on the day 
 which should be given to harmless recreation ! " 
 
 No, he did not want his children to be Protestants. The 
 traditions of some generations of aristocratic ancestors for- 
 bade that. He preferred that they should retain the name of 
 "Catholics," but have little or nothing to do with the Church 
 except to be baptized, married and buried by it; and he would 
 not grieve if they omitted those expressions of deference 
 for her. 
 
 "As for this matter of a preparation for a future life," he 
 said, getting up uneasily and beginning to walk the floor, 
 "if there is a future state of existence, nothing can be known 
 about it with certainty anyhow. One can only hope that by 
 being a good citizen, a good son, husband and father it will 
 turn out all right." 
 
 If this statement of Don Francisco's religious opinions is 
 
153 
 
 confused, it is at least no more confused than his opinions 
 were. 
 
 Two hours later he stood before the door of his wife's room. 
 His fears were probably ill founded, he was wrong to borrow 
 trouble, he had said to himself, trying to recall an easy and 
 cheerful feeling about his domestic aif airs, to entertain which, 
 it had long seemed to him, would be the climax of human 
 happiness. He knocked, but as there was no answer he 
 opened the door softly and entered. The room was in per- 
 fect order; the crucifix stood in its place on the bureau 
 and the mass book and rosary lay by its side, as usual. 
 There was no smelling bottle nor any other attendant of a 
 headache among the books and ornaments of the center table- 
 nor on the tray marble table by the bed. The great, beau- 
 tiful, shining brass bed, with the picture of the Virgin in the- 
 head piece held by the slender coils of yellow metal, looked 
 as if its snowy surface under the lace curtains which hung 
 down from the "likeness of a kingly crown" above and were 
 looped back with ribbons, had never been disturbed. 
 
 Carefully dressed, with her shining, wavy brown hair ar- 
 ranged in its usual simple and elegant style, Dona Flavia sat 
 in a wicker rocking chair near the window. She was evident- 
 ly better of the headache. 
 
 She did not look up as he approached; perhaps she had not 
 heard him, he thought. 
 
 "Your head is better, I hope," he said, speaking pleasant- 
 ly and smiling. 
 
 "I have not had the headache," she replied in a cutting yet 
 musical voice. 
 
 "Maria told me at dinner time that you said you had the 
 headache and did not want to be disturbed." 
 
 ' 'I told her to tell you so because I did not want to see anjr 
 one then. I have been quite well all day." 
 
 "Then what was the matter! "he asked with a sinking 
 heart, but going straight to the point. If trouble was com- 
 ing it would be better to meet it bravely. 
 
 She arose from her seat that her face might be more nearly 
 
154 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 on a level with his as she replied. He thought of the gla- 
 ciers as he had seen them among the Alps with the sunlight 
 on their cold, beautiful surfaces. She had tried to remove 
 all traces of weeping from her face and had dressed carefully 
 for this interview. "She wished to show him," as she told 
 her sister some months afterward, "that it was Flavia Sali- 
 zar he had trifled with." She looked him full in the face as 
 she answered: 
 
 "I have learned to-day that you are a Mason." 
 
 He returned her look without flinching. He would have 
 told her a falsehood if it would have deceived her. "Why 
 should he not? " he would have reasoned if any reasoning 
 had been necessary to his mind. * 'Would it not be better to 
 tell one lie than that a whole family should be plunged into 
 unhappiness by the truth. Was it not taught in the laws oi 
 Spain that deception was right under certain circumstances! 
 Did not Victor Hugo's saintly 'Sister Simplicia' tell a lie to 
 save a good man from trouble, and did not the author say 
 that it was set down in Paradise as one of the whitest deeds 
 she ever did? Juan Valjean would not tell a falsehood for 
 his own sake, perhaps, but he told them without scruples for 
 the sake of others." 
 
 There are special reasons why the author of "Les Miser- 
 ables" should be a favorite among the Mexicans. Was it not 
 he who called Napoleon III. "Napoleon the Little"? And 
 was he not banished by that monarch for twenty years from 
 France? And did he not return to France and enter Paris 
 the day after the republic was proclaimed? 
 
 Don Francisco was well acquainted with the teachings of 
 the Roman Catholic Church on the subject of lying, but he 
 was not so well aware that he himself was indebted to her 
 for is belief in the usefulness and harmlessness of lying on 
 some occasions. He preferred, as we have seen, to cite Victor 
 Hugo's teachings as a reason for the faith that was in him. 
 But even if he had received his "liberal" ideas about false- 
 hood from that author, it is still probable that he would have 
 been indebted to the Church for them, for Victor Hugo grew 
 
"AN AWFUL DAY." 155 
 
 up in an atmosphere of Roman Catholicism, so that whether 
 he would or not the principles of that religion had become a 
 part of every nerve and fiber of his spiritual being, if I may 
 be permitted to express it so. 
 
 'Yes," said Don Francisco quietly, "I have been a Mason 
 for six years." 
 
 * ; How can you speak so quietly of having deceived your 
 wife for such a length of time? " 
 
 ' ' I would gladly have told you, but I knew you would op- 
 pose it. My duty to my country required me to become a 
 Mason. If you will examine the teachings of the Masons, 
 Flavia, you will see that there is nothing wrong in them. " 
 
 "I don't care to discuss the subject or to hear it explained. 
 I have borne enough. For years you have acted in direct 
 opposition to my wishes; you have done all you could against 
 the church of your forefathers and of your wife; you have 
 spared no pains to drag your children and mine into infidelity 
 and heresy. I demand a separation." 
 
 Don Francisco was astonished. He had never thought of 
 her going so far. He was indignant, but he controlled him- 
 self, and said quietly: 
 
 1 ' You are excited, Flavia. Wait till you are calmer, and 
 we will talk of this." 
 
 "No, it would better to settle it now; I don't want to have 
 to refer to it again. I desire a separation. I want to have 
 the privilege of bringing up my children in the fold of the 
 Church." 
 
 Just then there was heard outside a rush of little feet to- 
 ward "mama's room," and a confusion of merry voices and 
 childish laughter. They sounded like the clear, happy songs 
 of birds under a black sky in the lull of a tempest. Don 
 Francisco stepped quickly to the door and turned the key, 
 with the bitter thought that it was the first tune that his 
 children were ever locked out from the presence of their 
 parents. Then he said quietly: 
 
 "They are my children, too. I have as much right as you 
 to say what they shall be taught. But if you will persist in 
 
156 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 talking of such absurdities I will have to remind you that 
 even if the law would grant you a divorce it would give you 
 only your daughters, whom you have completely under your 
 influence anyhow, and it would leave our sons to me. But as 
 you have no just cause for a divorce the law would not give 
 it to you. And if you leave me without one I will keep all 
 the children." 
 
 "The Church would give me a divorce under such circum- 
 stances. " 
 
 "I don't doubt it," he replied scornfully, "there is no in- 
 iquiety that the Roman Catholic Church can't be counted on 
 to sanction. But you forget that the Church, in Mexico, no 
 longer has the power to make or sever marriages." 
 
 She gazed at him a few moments, slowly realizing her help- 
 lessness. Then she sank into her chair and covered her face 
 with, her hands. Pity seized him, and regret for his em- 
 phatic words. Could he not have told her the truth more 
 gently? He drew a chair to her side, and sat down. It was 
 the priests who were to blame for all this, and not his sweet, 
 fair wife, he thought. 
 
 "Flavia," he said gently, laying his hand on her shoulder, 
 "don't cry. I spoke too emphatically. I did wrong. We 
 will forget it all." 
 
 "Please go away and leave me alone," she moaned. 
 
 "No," he said, "I can't leave you so, dear. Forgive me; 
 you know I love you. There, don't cry, and let me open the 
 door for the children." 
 
 "I wish you would leave me alone," she repeated impa- 
 tiently. And after a few moments he went out softly, and 
 shut the door. 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. 157 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE LORD'S DAY. 
 
 NEARLY two weeks after the events of the last chapter, 
 one Sunday afternoon, Dona Flavia and Mercedes sat 
 together in the parlor sewing. The members of that welL 
 ordered household did not usually work much on Sunday, 
 because that was a day of fiesta a day of rest and recreation. 
 I should make an exception of the servants; they usually 
 worked more on that day than on others, for there was gen- 
 erally company for dinner on Sundays. 
 
 There was no company to-day; nevertheless it had been a 
 very busy day. Dona Flavia and Mercedes had gone to early 
 mass, then the latter and the housekeeper had superintended 
 the cleaning of the parlor, study, and dining room. After 
 the carpets and curtains were shaken and put down and hung 
 up, and the furniture was all in its place again, Dona Flavia 
 and Mercedes had daintily re -arranged the delicate orna- 
 ments, fastidiously draped the curtains and discussed and 
 had changed some of the pictures. So the morning and part 
 of the afternoon had passed, and now, as I have said, though 
 tired, they sat together, sewing. 
 
 The cause of all this unusual exertion was the expected 
 visit of a bishop, or perhaps I should say, the Bishop, for he 
 was the favorite bishop of Dona Flavia and of most of the 
 * ' honorable women " of the city. His visit had been expected 
 for some time, as for some weeks he had been writing and 
 sending messages to the wealthy ladies of the city to the 
 effect that as soon as other imperative duties would permit 
 he would visit Salta. 
 
 He was to come this week, and though there had been 
 plenty of other days on which the house cleaning could have 
 
158 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 been done, all had agreed that it would be better to do it on 
 Sunday, as they could have more assistance on that day. 
 
 The cleaning would not have been necessary for any other 
 visit, but, as Dofia Flavia remarked, "She always liked to 
 have everything as elegant as possible when the Senor 
 Bishop came, because he was so elegant himself." 
 
 When he had last visited them he had affectionately urged 
 the ladies of the Church Society to build a chapel for the 
 image of St. Felipe de Jesus, a young Mexican priest who 
 was crucified in Japan and afterwards canonized by the 
 Church, the only Mexican on whom -that honor has as yet 
 been conferred. The chapel was to be a small room, or large 
 alcove, opening by one whole side into the church. 
 
 Great efforts had been made to complete this chapel before 
 the bishop's return. Subscriptions had been solicited, the 
 contributors being assured that their names would be de- 
 posited in a glass urn that would be kept on the altar, and 
 that three masses a month would be said for them, whether 
 living or dead. 1 
 
 An opera troupe which had visited the town had, at the 
 solicitation of the ladies, given a performance one Sunday 
 night for the building of the chapel. During the vacation of 
 the schools they had given balls on Sunday nights in the 
 girls' public school building, and from the sale of the refresh- 
 ments they had realized some money; a lottery, which was 
 owned by the Society, and was run in the interest of the 
 Church and for general benevolence, had also proved a 
 source of profit. More than one Sunday afternoon had been 
 enlivened by bull-fights, the proceeds of which had been de- 
 voted to this pious purpose. After each of these entertain- 
 ments a very gratifying sum had been paid into the hands of 
 the treasurer of the Society, for, notwithstanding the fact 
 that the torreros (bullfighters) who took part on all but one of 
 these occasions were men of but little renown in their pro- 
 fession, all the elite of the town, gentlemen, ladies and chil- 
 dren, attended, "because it was for the Church." The com- 
 
 . l Note. El Tiempo, a Catholic daily paper, published in the City of 
 Mexico. 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. + 159 
 
 mon people went because they always did so if they could 
 save money enough. 
 
 I insert here a description of this diversion that you may 
 have an idea of the way in which the Lord's Day is kept holy 
 in Mexico, as well as of the manner in which the Holy Apos- 
 tolic Roman Catholic Church is at least partially supported. 
 This description was written for me by one who had wit- 
 nessed the fights. He is now, however, a minister of the 
 gospel. That fact, by the way, may account for his having 
 divided his description into "firstly," "secondly," "thirdly," 
 as if he were writing a sermon: 
 
 "1st. The amphitheater. A wall is constructed which in- 
 closes a circular space of about forty yards in diameter. 
 Running around the inside of this wall are the seats, ar- 
 ranged like steps, which are for the spectators. Some seats 
 cost more than others. There are several exits and "en- 
 trances. On the outside of the amphitheater, but joined to 
 it, is a lot in which the animals are shut up. It has two doors 
 leading into the amphitheater, one through which the animal 
 enters, and one through which he is taken out. 
 
 "2nd. Selection of animals. Those who have the manage- 
 ment of the amphitheater wish to obtain the wildest and fat- 
 test animals that can be found. Having made a contract 
 with the owner "of a herd they employ experienced men to 
 select the animals. They go into the inclosure where the 
 herd is collected, mounted on horseback, and by the use of 
 the experience and practice of years, and with great danger 
 to their own lives and to those of their horses, they effect the 
 separation of the chosen animals from the rest of the herd. 
 It nearly always happens that one or two horses are left dead 
 in the inclosure. The separation being accomplished they 
 drive the animals to the town and shut them up in the lot 
 adjoining the amphitheater. And with that the adventure of 
 these men is finished. 
 
 "3rd. The Corrida (the fight). Generally the animals are 
 tortured in the afternoon. The next morning a clown, 
 dressed in gay colors and with his face painted, followed by 
 
160 ' MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 the company of torreros in the red, green and blue costumes, 
 in which they fight, and accompanied by a multitude of com- 
 mon people and a band of music, go through the streets to 
 .announce the Corrida. 
 
 1 ' When the hour has arrived in which the spectators are to 
 assemble the band station themselves in a convenient place 
 and pour out their melodies on the air for the purpose of at- 
 tracting all who have the taurine taste (el gusto taurino). 
 Very soon crowds of persons are seen to pour in, filling the 
 amphitheater in a few instants till not another one can find a 
 place on the seats before alluded to. 
 
 "The judge of .the Corrida notifies the corneteer, who is by 
 his side, when the time to begin has arrived. He gives the 
 signal and a furious bull, which has been pricked and tor- 
 tured for the purpose of exciting to the highest degree all 
 his fierce instincts, rushes through the door into the arena. 
 
 ' ' The sight of so many people about him further arouses 
 his fury, and with the velocity of a cannon ball he hurls him- 
 self upon his opponents, who are waiting for him. For a 
 few minutes the arrastradores play with him, deceiving him 
 with their capotes. The arrastrador is a man who carries a 
 red sheet or capote stretched on rods. He infuriates the ani- 
 mal by running toward him with the capote extended before 
 him. The animal plunges his horns through the capote, but 
 the arrastrador has nimbly sprung from behind it so that only 
 the capote is gored. There are usually two arrastradores. 
 
 1 ' The two cazadores on spirited horses display their skill in 
 throwing the lasso, in which art figure more than one hun- 
 dred ways of catching the animal. The topador, mounted on 
 a very poor horse, so that his ability may be the more con- 
 spicuous, has an opportunity to show his herculean strength 
 by arresting the attacks of the brute with the point of his 
 spear. 
 
 " In the meantime the bandarilleros arm themselves with 
 their bandarillas to await their turn. The bandarillas are 
 sticks tipped with sharp iron and ornamented with bright 
 paper; one of them is in the shape of a large flower; this one 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. 161 
 
 they nail into his forehead. There are generally three of 
 these men, including the captain. Their turn arrives, and at 
 the order of the judge they enter the arena. Each one in his 
 turn tantalizes the furious wild beast, and then one after 
 another they spring on his horns and drive a pair of sharp 
 irons into his back. When they have tortured him to their 
 own satisfaction, and that of the spectators, the order is 
 given to kill him. This act nearly always devolves on the 
 captain. He takes his sword, and in the manner which is 
 prescribed by his art plunges it behind his shoulder into his 
 heart. 
 
 "The play with one animal being thus ended they continue 
 with another and another till three are killed, that being the 
 number employed in each Corrida." 
 
 Often horses are killed, and not seldom a torrero. In one 
 of the Corridas given for the building of the chapel I have 
 mentioned a man was killed, and it was characteristic of a 
 people so educated that they expressed themselves as ' * well 
 pleased that he was killed because he went into tl\e arena 
 drunk.'' 
 
 The gentlemen and the feminine portion of the best society 
 did not attend corridas de toros regularly, just as they did not 
 go to all the theatrical performances that came along; they 
 only went when there was some unusual attraction, or when 
 it was for the church or some other benevolent object. The 
 fresh, young faces of the boys of the best families were sel- 
 dom missing from the amphitheater. It was Don Francisco's 
 habit to inquire of his boys, in his pleasant way, every Sun- 
 day evening, after they had attended a Corrida, ' ' if the toros 
 and the horses were well killed." 
 
 Good fortune had brought the greatest torrero of Mexico to 
 Salta during the building of this chapel. This torrero, Pon- 
 ciano Diaz who, I beg leave to state, is not a relative of 
 Sefior Don Porfirio Diaz, the president of the republic had 
 come bringing with him several other torreros who fought 
 under his direction. The bands of music, accompanied by a 
 large crowd of people, among whom were some of the prin- 
 11 
 
162 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 cipal men of the town, friends of the celebrated torrero, had 
 met him some way from the town as he came from the rail- 
 way station. He was conducted to the best hotel of the town 
 where he was received as a distinguished man. His visit to 
 this comparatively insignificant place was a favor which the 
 town could not have reasonably expected, for he had recently 
 returned from Europe loaded with honors and riches. He 
 had been received in the City of Mexico with no little ap- 
 plause and with no little flattering notice by the newspapers. 
 
 1 The church society of Salta appointed a meeting and con- 
 sul^d with tremulous enthusiasm. They went in a body to 
 request "Don" Ponciano Diaz to give one ef his entertain- 
 ments for the benefit of the chapel. The president of the 
 society, Dofia Flavia Salizar de Urbina, was to present the 
 petition; and never was there a president of a society of 
 ladies who could present a petition to a distinguished person- 
 age with more impressive elegance. 
 
 The great man received the ladies with all the grace and 
 dignity of a bull- fighter. With many gracious compliments, 
 circumlocutions and smiles, with much dwelling on the good 
 cause to which he would be lending a helping-hand, and per- 
 haps with some delicate hints that it might be for the good 
 of his own soul, since we are all sinners, or at lea'st that it 
 might be a work of supererogation that would be set down 
 to the credit of some poor soul, the request was presented. 
 
 With the delicacy and tact that would naturally be conspic- 
 uous in the character of a gentleman of his profession Don 
 Ponciano gave the ladies to understand that he was now 
 worth thirty thousand dollars, fruits of his toils in Europe; 
 why should he still risk his life? Why should he not retire 
 from business and live like other gentlemen on his income? 
 However, as the ladies were importunate he condescended 
 to ride through the town hi the procession accompanied by 
 some of the principal men of the city; and they should of 
 course have the proceeds of a corrida. And their point being 
 
 1 Note. A young lady belonging to the best society of the town related 
 to me this call on "Don" Ponciano. She was, perhaps, herself one of the 
 society. 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. 163 
 
 at least partially gained the ladies retired with many thanks 
 to their benefactor. 
 
 The chapel had been finished at last, and the girl-faced 
 "saint" in his longTobes had been placed on a pedestal, his 
 feet at a convenient distance from the floor to be kissed by 
 the children. It was nearly all paid for, too; they 'owed now 
 only a small sum for the new robes in which they had dressed 
 the saint. They hoped to pay for these with the proceeds 
 which were accruing from the raffling of various fancy ar- 
 ticles. 
 
 Dona Flavia and Mercedes were busy this afternoon finish- 
 ing, the former, an exquisite sofa cushion, the latter, a linen 
 handkerchief which she was ornamenting with drawn work. 
 On the morrow Maria would carry both of these articles, 
 wrapped in a snowy towel, from house to house together 
 with the paper on which were to be written the amounts paid 
 for the chance of drawing the lucky numbers. 
 
 Both Dona Flavia and Mercedes were sad and the conver- 
 sation between them was not animated. Dofia Flavia had at 
 first felt humiliated by the failure to rule her husband or 
 leave him. Then her better feelings had waked up and she 
 had reflected that he was good and kind notwithstanding the 
 errors of his creed and practice. She felt that she had stood 
 on the brink of a precipice, and she rejoiced that she had 
 been kept from bringing herself and her family into notoriety 
 by taking the fatal step. Silent martyrdom would be better 
 than that. 
 
 These feelings had lasted a few days till she had confessed 
 to the Senor Cure and he had strengthened her faltering 
 resolutions "to give her husband no rest nor peace till he 
 should consent to do what would be for the good of his own 
 soul and those of his children abandon Free Masonry and 
 return to the bosom of the Holy Mother Church out of which 
 there was no salvation." These resolutions were further 
 strengthened by the announcement of the bishop's visit. 
 Her troubled soul rejoiced that she was to have advice and 
 consolation from so eminent an authority in the Church; it 
 
164 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 would be almost as if the Holy Father in Rome should speak 
 to her! 
 
 Mercedes had been troubled ever since the day of the con- 
 versation between Dona Flavia and Dofia Concepcion. She 
 had noticed since that day that Dona Flavia had spent 
 more time than usual in the church praying to one or another 
 ' 'saint"; that often Don Francisco and she did not appear in 
 the dining room at the same hour, the one complaining of 
 headache, the other of unusual business in his office; that 
 they were seldom both in the parlor in the evenings at the 
 same time, and that both of them were always preoccupied 
 and not cheerful. Two or three evenings when she and other 
 girls had left the parlor to promenade in front of the house, 
 and look at the moon and stars and ' ' talk, " she had watched 
 him through the study window sitting at the center table on 
 which the student's lamp burned, his head resting on one or 
 both hands, and the "Monitor Republican" spread out 
 before him. And she saw that for an hour at a time the 
 paper was not moved. 
 
 The night before, as she lay awake because of a vague dread 
 that some great trouble was coming, she had heard steps in 
 the court and slipping across the room and peeping through 
 the curtain she had seen Don Francisco standing under an 
 orange tree. He was looking at the stars, and now and then 
 he rubbed his hand across his forehead. As she watched 
 him he stepped to the fountain and, lifting the water in his 
 hand, he bathed his forehead as if he were feverish. He had 
 evidently not retired, though she knew from the striking of 
 the town clock it was two. 
 
 It was sad, she reflected, that so noble and talented a man 
 should be a Mason. She knew nothing about Masonry 
 except that it was a secret order which was opposed to 
 "religion"; and according to report they did dreadful things 
 in their secret meetings. It was even said that they kept a 
 pot of poison in their hall which they made use of when their 
 secrets were revealed. But would the genial, dignified, hon- 
 orable Don Francisco do dreadful things? She could not 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. 165 
 
 believe it, and yet . The evil, she had heard (it was aston- 
 ishing how much she had heard in the last two weeks), was 
 wide spread. The very president of the republic was a 
 Mason he was the Grand Master of .the Grand Symbolical 
 Diet, they said; and Mercedes thought he must have advanced 
 very far in wickedness to have such a title as that. She had 
 been told that most, if not all, his Cabinet and nearly all of 
 the most prominent men of the nation were Masons. 
 
 Would they all all of these men who were trying so ear- 
 nestly to lift up the republic and make it equal to the greatest 
 nations would they all do dreadful things? And yet, poor 
 Dofia Flavia! And she knew from chance remarks that she 
 had heard that there were many other wives who were 
 greatly troubled, and some of them had even threatened to 
 leave their husbands. 
 
 At last the cushion was finished and Dofia Plavia clasped 
 her white, jeweled hands over its bright colors. Mercedes 
 had already put the last stitch into the handkerchief and was 
 patting it as it lay folded on her knee. 
 
 "Well," said Dofia Flavia with a sigh of relief, "this time 
 to-morrow, if God wills it, the Sefior Bishop will be here." 
 
 "Yes. Sefiora." 
 
 "I have been thinking, my daughter, that this would be a 
 good opportunity for you to be confirmed. I shall have 
 Anita and Pancho confirmed while he is here. My other 
 children were confirmed in infancy, only a day or two after 
 they were baptized, but owing to some circumstances the 
 confirmation of these two children has been neglected until 
 now," and a shadow flitted across her face. The "some cir- 
 cumstances" were Don Francisco's indifference about it. She 
 thought of this and a good many other little things with new 
 bitterness, now. 
 
 ' 'I don't know, Sefiora, I should have to confess first, and 
 I would rather not confess," replied Mercedes quickly, 
 remembering her father's commands about it, and the terrible 
 not exactly remorse nor repentance but "feelings" she 
 had had about the masses. 
 
166 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "Why, dear, "said Dona Flavia, smiling insinuatingly, "you 
 have not done something that you object to confessing, I 
 hope." 
 
 Mercedes' face flushed with indignation. She saw the cun- 
 ning of the remark but dimly, for like most persons of inno- 
 cent and sincere natures she was slow to believe evil of others. 
 Later, in her own room, she said to herself fiercely, "She 
 wanted to force me in that contemptible way to confess. I 
 despise her!" and her feelings were all the more strong 
 because she felt that her rage was impotent. She was correct 
 in her inference; Dofia Flavia had not been under Jesuit 
 influence all the days of her life for nothing. 
 
 Mercedes was always helpless when she received an under- 
 hand thrust, even when it was given by one of her own age 
 to whom she might have replied. It was so both because she 
 was slow to believe in the evil intention of the other, and 
 because she felt that if she should reply in the same manner 
 she should be as despicable as the one who had given the 
 first thrust. She always let such things pass without notice, 
 and therefore she was considered by some "a poor-spirited" 
 girl. She replied now with some confusion, and making an 
 effort to tell the truth: 
 
 "No yes I can't bear to think of being questioned about 
 my inmost thoughts by any person." 
 
 * 'O, it isn't so bad. You have an exaggerated idea of the 
 difficulties of the confession. And besides the priests who 
 will come with the Sefior Bishop to confess the people are 
 elegant gentlemen; you cannot fail to admire them. You 
 would look so well in the confirmation dress. Come into my 
 room and let me show you Anita's. " 
 
 Mercedes followed her as she led the way to her room. 
 She spread out the dainty little dress and gauzy veil on the 
 bed. 
 
 "And here, "she said, taking something off the shelf of the 
 wardrobe, "here is a beautiful white dress which I have just 
 had made for Magdalena; I dare say it would fit you quite 
 well. You could be confirmed in it, and you could wear my 
 
THE LORD'S DAY. 167 
 
 wedding veil; I have it yet. Think about it, dear. You 
 should be willing to do anything that would be for the good 
 of your soul." 
 
 4 'I will think about it, Sefiora. But it is not likely that I 
 shall change my mind." After a little more conversation she 
 said, "I will go to my room now, Dofia Flavia, with your 
 permission." 
 
 "Go with God," said the lady kindly, using an ordinary, 
 but a tender adieu. She had never been so affectionate with 
 Mercedes before. 
 
168 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE SEftOR BISHOP. 
 
 TltE next Tuesday morning Dofia Flavia and the Bishop 
 sat together in the parlor. The afternoon before the 
 whole town had been moved to receive him. Not even the 
 coming of "Don" Ponciano Diaz had stirred them more. 
 Several of the most prominent men of the city had, according 
 to established custom, met him at the station, though at least 
 one of them had observed, with a smile: " This is a great ado 
 over a mere man like myself. The other day when I arrived 
 from Paris there was no such stir as this." 
 
 A few miles from town a multitude of people had met Don 
 Francisco's handsome carriage, in which the Senor Bishop 
 and three inferior priests were seated. While the gentlemen 
 of the town were saluting him and kissing his hand the men 
 unhitched the horses from the carriage and tied two long 
 ropes to the tongue. When the salutations were over the 
 women seized the ropes and drew the carriage along the 
 dusty road. The Senor Bishop was in his black, sacerdotal 
 robes, and as they passed along his hand on which flashed 
 the pastoral ring showered apostolic blessings on the kneel- 
 ing people. When the women were overcome with fatigue 
 the men took the ropes and completed the journey, drawing 
 the carriage through the streets adorned with arches, orna- 
 mented with colored paper, banners and images, till they 
 stopped in front of Don Francisco's house. There Dofia 
 Flavia, her children, and by special request,- Mercedes, stood 
 to give him and the others a cordial welcome. 
 
 Don Francisco was not there, neither did he see him till he 
 came to supper; the business in his office was very pressing, 
 indeed, this week. Though when he could not avoid being 
 with the Sefior Bishop he omitted no stately courtesy, his 
 
THE SENOR BISHOP. 169 
 
 prevailing feeling toward him was the wish that he could open 
 his massive, carved front doors, and call his servants to kick 
 the elegant bishop into the street. It was of that he was 
 thinking when Mercedes had seen him under the orange tree 
 a few nights before. Well he knew that every incident of 
 his domestic life would be exposed to the gaze of that man. 
 All the forty years of his married life he had writhed under 
 the thought that some priest or other knew, or could know if 
 he wished, every thought of his that he had ever confided to 
 his wife. 
 
 On this Tuesday morning the Sefior Bishop was standing 
 by the piano admiring a vase of flowers. He lifted the vase 
 and held it now near to enjoy the perfume, now at a little, 
 distance to admire their beauty. " How exquisite !" he ex- 
 claimed. "What delicate perfume, and what a wonderful 
 blending of colors! When I was in college Botany was one 
 of my favorite studies. " 
 
 "I think a love for flowers is a characteristic of all great 
 souls," replied Dona Flavia. 
 
 He was a very handsome man; he was tall and finely pro- 
 portioned, elegant in dress and irreproachable in manner. 
 He had a liberal education, and to this were added a rich, 
 melodious voice, and a poetical way of expressing his 
 thoughts. His fine, clean-shaven face wore an expression 
 that was generally considered benevolent. He was about 
 forty-five years of age. As he held up the vase his magnifi- 
 cent figure showed to full advantage in the dress of a private 
 gentleman. 
 
 Dona Flavia sat in a wicker rocker, as handsome in her 
 way as the Sefior Bishop. Her face was a little flushed. 
 These observations about the flowers and his ' ' great soul " 
 were only a parenthesis in the conversation. She had been 
 telling him her domestic troubles. 
 
 "Yes, Senora," said the Senor Bishop, suddenly setting 
 down the vase of flowers, * ' Free Masonry is the deification 
 of Satan. It deceives and mocks the people with promises 
 which it never fulfills. But only in nations, such as Italy 
 
170 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 and France, where it enjoys unbridled liberty, have they 
 made public the fact that they adore Lucifer as God, and that 
 they are working everywhere to substitute his worship for 
 the Christian worship. Satanism or Masonry! this is the 
 real obstacle which prevents the nations from going forward 
 in the road of progress and true civilization!" 
 
 Dona Flavia's eyes dilated with horror. If he had told her 
 her husband was a cannibal she would not have been much 
 more impressed. 
 
 "Yes, Senora; but happily this declaration, made only by 
 Catholics a few years ago, is to-day on the lips of all those 
 who contemplate the shameful backwardness of the nations 
 which are governed by Masonry. Protestants, Rationalists, 
 and even Atheists who do not belong to this community of 
 the devil abominate it, considering it the most formidable 
 enemy of happiness both of individuals and of nations! 
 
 "Why should we conceal the fact?" went on the Sefior 
 Bishop warmly. ' ' Evil triumphs, and perhaps in the next 
 century there will be built public basilicas and altars where 
 in the midst of heinous abominations the highest worship 
 will be rendered to the Enemy of our nature. The great 
 periods of history always terminate with the preponderance 
 of evil over good, with the empire of Satan over man." The 
 Sefior Bishop paused to allow these fearful truths to take 
 effect on the mind of his hearer; then he continued in another 
 tone: 
 
 "At last the truth will prevail. But God has wished to 
 reserve those supreme triumphs for himself. When the time 
 is fulfilled he will hurl the lightning of his omnipotent justice 
 which will reduce to powder, as if they were frail vessels of 
 clay, the nations which proudly rise up against Him and his 
 Christ" 1 
 
 .This rose-colored view of the end of Free Masonry gave 
 little comfort to the spirit of Dofia Flavia, since it was prob- 
 able that her husband and sons would be involved in the 
 catastrophe. As dreadful as it had seemed to her before she 
 
 l Note. All of this interesting- and important information about Free 
 Masonry is translated verbatim et liberatim from El Tiempo. 
 
THE SENOR BISHOP. 171 
 
 had not thought it was so bad as this. She listened with a 
 lacerated heart to the instructions which the Senor Bishop 
 gave her as to the manner of winning back her husband to 
 the Church. They were similar to those which she had 
 before received from the Senor Cure. 
 
 Just then the folding doors opened, and Mercedes, who 
 had been requested to come in after school hours, entered. 
 Dona Flavia had found time to tell him something of her. 
 His face lighted with pleasure as he went to meet her. 
 
 ' -My daughter, you have come in to sit with us awhile. 
 We shall be very glad to have your company. " 
 
 "Thank you, Senor," replied Mercedes as she kissed his 
 hand. He led her to a seat and then sat down in an armchair 
 no.t far from her. 
 
 "The Senora Urbina has been telling me of your love foi 
 books. I think we must be kindred spirits," he remarked, 
 smiling kindly at her. 
 
 "Yes, Senor, I am fond of reading," she said, simply. 
 
 "Will you tell me who is your favorite author?" 
 
 "I think the Biografies of Distinguished Mexicans is a 
 very interesting book." 
 
 "Ah, yes; with what appreciation the author writes of the 
 authors, sculptors, artists, and warriors of Mexico!" 
 
 "Yes, I read the biography of St. Felipe de Jesus in that 
 book. It was very interesting. It was a grand day when 
 the news that the Holy Father, Urban VIII., had canonized 
 him was received in Mexico. What grand fiestas they had in 
 honor of it! And his mother went out in the solemn proces- 
 sion by the side of the viceroy; and the government gave her 
 and his four sisters a pension because her son had been 
 canonized. Those were the days in which the Church was 
 respected in Mexico. Ah me!" observed Dona Flavia. She 
 seldom read anything but the mass book, the catechism, and 
 other Catholic books of devotion, and she was glad of this 
 opportunity to display some knowledge of general literature. 
 
 The Bishop made some appropriate reply and then went 
 on talking about the artists and literary men of Mexico, 
 
172 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 many of whom he knew personally. Mercedes thought she 
 had never had the privilege of listening to so charming a 
 conversationalist. ' 'How condescending, how fatherly, how 
 delightful he is!" she said to herself. * 'If my father could 
 have known such priests as he, he would not have disliked 
 them so." 
 
 At last he gracefully introduced the subject of religion. 
 After some preliminary remarks, he said: 
 
 "By the way, my daughter, have you been confirmed?" 
 
 "No, Senor." 
 
 His look of interest changed into one of fatherly solicitude 
 as he said: i 
 
 "My dear daughter, you should not longer neglect that 
 duty and privilege. You can not hope to enjoy the presence 
 of the Holy Spirit until you have been confirmed. Will you 
 not allow me the pleasure and honor of confirming you while 
 I am here?" 
 
 Mercedes felt her face growing very hot. 
 
 The Bishop continued, adopting the tender and beautiful 
 "thou" form of the Spanish: 
 
 "Tell me, dost thou walk far from God? How many years 
 hast thou had no peace in thy soul? As many at least as thou 
 hast been wanting in compliance with the requirements of 
 the Church. Dost thou long for peace? Resolve, then, at 
 once, think a few minutes, cast one glance over thy con- 
 science, give one step more and thou hast done it all. Never 
 let fall from thy lips, my daughter, that excuse, as foolish as 
 impious: 'I confess only to God!' Those who so proudly 
 blaspheme of confessing only to God, it is certain that they 
 never remember that God exists. It is as ridiculous as if a 
 criminal invited to present himself before the authorities to 
 receive pardon, should say, 'I will not present myself to any 
 one except the king.' But suppose the king should not wish 
 you to appear before him, but before those whom he has 
 elected to represent him? 'No,' he replies, 'I will have 
 nothing to do with any one but his Majesty!' Dost thou 
 know, my dear daughter, what would happen to one who 
 
THE SENOR BISHOP. 173 
 
 should act thus? Putting off presenting himself before the 
 authorities? The civil authority would seize him and he 
 would pay dearly for his nonsense. Now, make the applica- 
 tion. God has declared that he does not wish to have any- 
 thing to do with thee except through the intervention of his 
 priests. Thou hast the offer of pardon. Who knows if 
 while thou refusest to accept it under the conditions with 
 which it is offered death will seize thee, for he has a great 
 liking for pouncing on the unprepared. Believe me, my 
 beloved daughter! Come in time! What detains thee? Is it 
 shame? That is a great sin !" 
 
 Mercedes could make DO reply to these arguments. She 
 sat with bowed head and crimson face, listening. 
 
 ' 'The Senora Urbina has told me that you dread the con- 
 fessional. But the only gate to heaven is through confession 
 to the priest. Christ showed us this when he delivered the 
 keys of the kingdom of heaven to St. Peter. He made him 
 the porter to open and shut the gate. He would not then 
 admit souls to eternal life in any other way; that would be 
 an inconsistency of which we could not imagine our Lord 
 guilty, could we?" 1 
 
 "Is confirmation necessary to salvation?" asked Mercedes 
 timidly. 
 
 4 'No, "he replied gently, "you were regenerated and there- 
 fore saved by your baptism, you know." 
 
 "Regeneration. That means a great change in one's char- 
 acter, does it not?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It has always seemed a pity to me that it should take 
 place in infancy, so that no one ever feels the change, or has 
 any idea how it is." 2 
 
 l Note> These arguments for confirmation and confession are trans- 
 lated from El Tierapo. 
 
 *Note. Mercedes, of course, looked at baptism from the Catholic 
 standpoint. I read or heard of a very extraordinary occurrence which, 
 it was said, happened here in Mexico: A girl of about thirteen years of 
 age was baptized. She had been brought up far out in the mountains, 
 and either through the neglect or purpose of her parents she had been 
 
174 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "But it is proper that baptism should be conferred on 
 infants, and it should be done as soon as possible, without 
 danger to them." And he proceeded to prove this to her by 
 quotations from the Decrees of the Council of Trent, the 
 Fathers, and the Sacred Scriptures. 
 
 "But it is wonderful that such great and far-reaching 
 changes should follow so simple a ceremony. " 
 
 "Yes. But all great things are simple," said the Senor 
 Bishop. 
 
 "I thank you for the explanation, Father. But I think," 
 she added, with a light laugh, "there must have been some- 
 thing wrong with my baptism. Perhaps the Father omitted 
 a word or two in the ceremony and the charm was broken. 
 I am not conscious of having any title to the privileges which 
 it confers. " 
 
 "You cannot expect to have peace of mind until you have 
 availed yourself of all the privileges of the Church. " And 
 then he quoted the Fathers to prove to her that "the sacra- 
 ment of confirmation" was instituted by the Lord, and that 
 through it the ' 'love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by 
 
 deprived of the "holy sacrament of baptism." She had heard of it, 
 however, and of its wonderful virtues, and she finally effected her escape 
 from her home, reached a town, and asked in the streets for "holy bap- 
 tism." The wealthy ladies came to hear of it and they were mightily 
 moved. They dressed her as a bride and conducted her to the font. 
 But neither the priest nor they could understand how baptism was to be 
 conferred on a person who was standing; they may have had doubts as 
 to its validity. The girl was too large to be held in arms, so they laid 
 her on a table and the priest performed the ceremony. 
 
 I heard of a case in which a gentleman from the United States, desir- 
 ing to marry a wealthy Mexican young lady, was suddenly converted to 
 Catholicism. He stood up in front of the altar and declared to the con- 
 gregation that he had never before known the true faith; then he laid 
 himself on a table and was "baptized." And after all that the young 
 lady broke the engagement. 
 
 Another reason which is given for their being laid on a table is that 
 it is done in obedience to that passage which says: "We are buried with 
 Him by baptism; " "for," they say, "you know people are always buried 
 in a horizontal position." 
 
THE SENOR BISHOP. 175 
 
 the Holy Spirit, which is given unto us"; and that by neglect- 
 ing it one might grieve the Holy Spirit. 
 
 And at the end of it all Mercedes said, "You are very kind, 
 Father, I will think of it. " 
 
 When Mercedes had gone out the Senor Bishop and his 
 hostess talked of other matters pertaining to the Church. 
 They spoke sadly of the loss of the temporal power, and the 
 Senor Bishop again warmed into eloquence: 
 
 "Think," he exclaimed, "of the lonely prisoner in the 
 Vatican! Robbed of his dominions, and his rights trampled 
 on, he lives on the contributions which the Catholics and a few 
 generous souls are accustomed to send him; and in his august 
 poverty he divides with the needy and with the regions 
 chastised by penury and by scarcity, the bread which is sent 
 to him. Nobody is ignorant of the excellent qualities of the 
 pope, and nobody withholds from him the praise which is his 
 due, and nevertheless he continues to be a captive, aban- 
 doned by the potentates of the earth, on whom rests the 
 obligation of going to his assistance, and the responsibility 
 of all that he bears and suffers of his lot so full of privations 
 and bitter trials. " * 
 
 The Senora Urbina was affected almost to tears by this 
 pathetic picture. 
 
 Two days later Mercedes, dressed as "a soul in grace," 
 that is, in a white dress, a veil, and a wreath of orange blos- 
 soms, glided across the church, and knelt by a confessional. 
 These, the confessionals, are small black structures, scarcely 
 tall enough for a man to stand erect in them, and just large 
 enough to contain one chair. 'The penitent kneels outside 
 and puts his lips to the small wire-covered window and 
 whispers his confession into the ear of the priest, which rests 
 against the other side of the wire. Both the priest and 
 
 l Note. From a sermon by the Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo, Spain, 
 published in El Tiempo. At the time that this sermon was published 
 nearly every copy of this paper and others contained descriptions of the 
 princely presents which were being received by the Pope during 1 his 
 Jubilee. 
 
176 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 penitent are in full view of those who may be worshipping 
 or passing about the church. 
 
 After the confession Mercedes went to a table at which one 
 of the priests was standing and, laying down twenty-five 
 cents, took up a ticket which she was to show on the day of 
 confirmation to prove that she had complied with the pre- 
 liminary requirements. 
 
 The next Sunday afternoon, when the sun was setting, a 
 multitude of people were gathered in front of the church. 
 Infants, children, and even a few grown people were waiting 
 to be confirmed. Among the latter was Mercedes, again in a 
 white dress, veil, and orange blossoms; and by her side stood 
 Cipriana, her god-mother, whom Dofia Flavia had been at 
 the pains to dress in respectable black for the occasion. 
 
 As the Senor Bishop approached in miter and surplice, 
 resplendent in jewels and gold and si]ver embroidery, she 
 knelt, and lifted to him, as to a true embassador from Christ, 
 who possessed mysterious, God-given powers, her pure, 
 trusting face, with its tremulous lips and eager, expectant 
 eyes; for now, at last, God was to confirm in her the work 
 which was begun in her baptism, and peace from on high 
 was to be given her. 
 
 The Bishop made with the "holy oil" the sign of the cross 
 on her forehead, and said, with a solemn voice: "I seal thee 
 with the sign of the cross, and I confirm thee with the Chrism 
 of salvation in the name of the Father and of the Son and of 
 the Holy Spirit." He then gave her a gentle blow on the 
 cheek to remind her that she was to bear bravely all adver- 
 sities in the name of Christ; and with a low, "Peace be with 
 thee," he passed on. A priest followed with a snowy towel 
 and wiped the oil from her forehead, and the Confirmation 
 was over. 
 
 The next morning the Sefior Bishop left, not going with 
 pomp as he had entered the town, for, as the people declared, 
 he had gotten so much money in the town he knew it was 
 prudent to go as secretly as possible. One face that bent 
 down at Don Francisco's door to kiss his hand with its flash- 
 
THE SENOR BISHOP. 177 
 
 ing pastoral ring was weary and worn. His "Peace with 
 thee" had brought no peace to the owner of that face. 
 
 Why had she confessed and been confirmed? Because she 
 had thought through feverish days and nights of the solemn, 
 tender words of the Bishop: "We ought to obey God rather 
 than man/' It must not hereafter be her fault if she had no 
 peace of mind. 
 
178 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SOME NEW PACES. 
 
 '^', and as good of heart as he was talented; he took 
 
 the poor to eafc at his own table. " 
 
 The speaker was an elderly gentleman with a kindly face. 
 He addressed two young ladies. The elder of the two was 
 tall and slender, with gray eyes and brown hair, drawn 
 smoothly back and gathered into a Grecian knot. The ex- 
 pression of her face was intelligent and pleasing. She wore 
 a dress of some dark material. The other young lady was 
 also tall and slender. There was no color about her if we 
 except the clear brunette complexion, the bright red of her 
 lips, and the fainter red of her cheeks. She wore a black 
 dress and long, graceful black scarf. Her hand, in a smooth 
 black kid glove, rested on the handle of a plain black silk 
 parasol. Her black hair was straightly parted, combed 
 smoothly back and the braids were coiled into a knot just 
 above the nape of her neck. Young as she was, for she was 
 evidently not more than eighteen, there was about her some- 
 thing of matronly grace and quiet dignity of manner. And 
 yet there lurked in her dark eyes an expression which indi- 
 cated a keen appreciation of humor. Altogether one felt 
 that behind that dark face there was an eager, enthusiastic 
 soul. 
 
 They were in the Academia de San Carlos, the Academy of 
 Fine Arts, in the City of Mexico. 
 
 When they had come up into the galleries of paintings the 
 elder young lady, who had often visited the Academia, and, 
 indeed, was quite familiar with everything of interest in the 
 city, had modestly approached a gentleman, who was with- 
 out a hat and at leisure, and seemingly in charge of the 
 place, and had requested him to lend her a catalogue of the 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 179 
 
 pictures. He replied that a catalogue was being prepared, 
 but that it was not yet finished. He courteously offered to 
 take them through the galleries and tell them about the 
 pictures. 
 
 They had gone first through the galleries of old Mexican 
 paintings belonging to the time of the viceroys, galleries 
 rich in paintings of Saints and Madonnas with the Holy Child 
 and other Scripture subjects pictures which grow on the 
 beholder the longer he looks at them; then they had seen in 
 the European gallery the two pictures by Murillo, "San Juan 
 de Dios," ad "John the Baptist in the Desert," the tiny 
 picture of "Adam and Eve in Paradise, and their Expulsion, " 
 by Michael Angelo, and many other interesting and beautiful 
 paintings; and lastly they had lingered long before the glory 
 of the gallery, Cogette's ^Deluge." 
 
 They had been through the gallery of landscapes, by mod- 
 ern Mexican artists, and had noticed with patriotic pride 
 that the most beautiful represented the Valley of Mexico, 
 the beautiful "Valley of Anahuac." 
 
 Their guide, who added much to their pleasure by his evi- 
 dent enjoyment of the part he was 'performing, had then 
 taken them back across the European gallery to the other two 
 galleries of modern Mexican paintings. There he showed 
 them the picture of Bartolome" de las Casas, the Protector of 
 the Indians, a picture so large that it had the whole end of 
 one gallery to itself and told them of the young artist who 
 painted it; and another by the same artist, representing 
 Galileo demonstrating to a priest that the world moves. The 
 pale, thin face of the priest was full of contempt for the 
 words of the philosopher. 
 
 "He doesn't believe a word that Galileo says," remarked 
 the young lady with the grey eyes. 
 
 "Nevertheless the world does move," replied the gentle- 
 man with a smile, quoting the words which the philosopher 
 murmured as he arose from before the pope, where he had, 
 under pain of death, retracted his declaration that the world 
 moved. And so they had gone from one picture to another, 
 
180 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 and as they had feasted their eyes on the rich and delicate 
 colors, and their souls on the noble sentiments which the pic- 
 tures inspired, the guide delighted them with reminiscences 
 of the artists. 
 
 At last they stood before a large painting which repre- 
 sented Christ and the two disciples about to enter the castle 
 of Emmaus. They had ' 'constrained him, saying. Abide with 
 us, for the day is far spent. " The red light of the setting 
 sun was over the castle and the three figures; that of the 
 Savior was full of majesty and grace; there was an expres- 
 sion of reverence on the faces of the two disciples, and of 
 wondering curiosity at the gracious words which the Stran- 
 ger had spoken. 
 
 Mercedes for the girl in the black dress and scarf was 
 she looked at it for some time with breathless admiration. 
 
 "It was painted by Ramon Sagredo. He is dead now," 
 said the gentleman. 
 
 "How talented he was!" exclaimed Mercedes, wishing she 
 could know exactly the artist's thoughts as he put the colors 
 on the canvas. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, ' 'and as good of heart as he was talented. 
 He took the poor to eat at his own table* " 
 
 How simple and beautiful and Christlike the expression ! 
 What a fitting qualification in an artist who would paint the 
 God-man, him who preached the gospel to the poor, who was 
 poor himself. 
 
 "With unsteady lips, and eyes a little moist, Mercedes 
 turned and saw for an instant the tender abstracted look on 
 the face of the man who spoke thus of his dead friend; but a 
 slight movement caused her to look beyond him, and full 
 into the face of another person who stood a little behind him. 
 He was a tall young man of about one and twenty. He wore 
 very shabby clothing; in one hand he held a much- worn hat 
 and a book on which Mercedes read the name, "Luis de 
 Granada." His features were characterized by strength 
 rather than by regularity; his complexion was dark and his 
 face was slightly marked by the smallpox. His eyes were 
 bright and penetrating. 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 181 
 
 At the moment that Mercedes turned intense feeling 
 gleamed in his eyes and flashed from every line of his face. 
 But he was watching her, and all of that feeling, gratitude, 
 or whatever it was, was poured into her eyes rather than 
 into those of the gentleman who had uttered the touching 
 words. She involuntarily looked into his eyes for a moment, 
 and the look in hers fully answered that in his. They 
 returned to him sympathy for his poverty, for he was evi- 
 dently one of "the poor;" enthusiam for his love of that 
 book 1 into which the "friar" has poured so much of his 
 poetical soul, and (her mind flying from one conclusion to 
 another) a fellow feeling with him in his love for all good and 
 noble things in books and out of them. 
 
 It was only for an instant, then she remembered what she 
 was doing, and turned away with heightened color. Her two 
 companions, occupied as they were with the picture, had not 
 noticed her. 
 
 "We meet," says an Arabian proverb, "in the desert in the 
 dark, and lift our lanterns and look into each other's faces 
 and then pass on. " But ever afterward, through whatever 
 of darkness or of light our paths may lie, though we may 
 never meet again, we remembered those persons whose souls 
 have answered ours and hope that life goes well with them. 
 These are moments of soul recognition. I am not speaking 
 now of "love at first sight," by any means; this soul recog- 
 nition may occur between persons of the same sex and of the 
 most unequal ages. 
 
 The next moment a party of young people passed them 
 and a girl remarked in a whisper that was distinctly audible : 
 
 "What a grotesque object to be in an art gallery! I wonder 
 that it is permitted. " And with a flash of pain in his face 
 the young man moved away. 
 
 Mercedes and her companion looked at a few more of the 
 pictures, and after cordially thanking their guide left the 
 Academia. 
 
 l Note. It is said that the author was threatened by the Inquisition 
 because of the evangelical sentiments of this book, and that he occasion- 
 ally introduced the name of Mary to escape condemnation. 
 
182 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 The way Mercedes came to be in the City of Mexico was 
 easy and natural enough, though she had thought it was as 
 improbable that it should ever happen as that she should go 
 on a trip to the moon. 
 
 Don Francisco had conceived the plan of bringing his 
 family to the capital to spend the winter in the hope that 
 new scenes might divert his wife's mind from the dangerous 
 channel in which it was running. She had willingly agreed 
 to the plan, because as Magdalena had now completed her 
 school life she could enjoy the society of the capital. 
 
 So it came to pass that a few days after the Bishop's 
 visit they went first to Monterey to attend the wedding of a 
 nephew. Then leaving that city behind, sleeping among its 
 picturesque mountains, they passed Saltillo just after day- 
 light, and perhaps a half hour later the battlefield of Buena 
 Vista. There were few stations along the road, none which 
 contained more than a few houses, till they reached San Luis 
 Potosi. It kept Mercedes thinking that the government 
 ought to bore some artesian wells and then form a coloniza- 
 tion society. There were towns, as she learned afterward, 
 but they were hidden behind hills a mile or two from the 
 road. 
 
 The station of San Luis Potosi was built in the American 
 style. And what a crowd of people! What rushing hither 
 and thither! But back of the handsome, new, modern build- 
 ings about the station were weather-beaten Mexican dwellings 
 and quaint old churches that looked like they might belong 
 to the time of the Conquest. 
 
 Then night had come and a new day, and they opened 
 their eyes on another world. The country had been trans- 
 formed, as if by magic, in the night. Now there greeted their 
 eyes green, dewy meadows, with starlike flowers, wide- 
 spreading trees, creeks and little rivers and lakes, and graz- 
 ing herds. The southern part of Mexico is fair and fertile as 
 the land of promise. 
 
 But still there were few towns along the way; neither were 
 there any country houses. 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 183 
 
 Once down below them a thousand or fifteen hundred feet 
 or more they saw a town the name of which they had been 
 seeing on stereoscopic views. They could have tossed bis- 
 cuits on the tops of some of the houses. Just before they 
 reached the City of Mexico the train passed over the moun- 
 tains. There were ravines, cool, shady, green, and lovely 
 with flowers; there were trees, and clear mountain rivulets, 
 over which old moss-covered trunks of trees had fallen, form- 
 ing foot-logs, and little, dashing, foaming cataracts. 
 
 The train ascended majestically, winding gracefully, as a 
 serpent, in semicircles up the mountain side; not slowly, not 
 laboring and panting and stopping to rest like a tired animal, 
 as I have been told the trains ascend the Rocky Mountains; 
 but easily, continuously, rapidly, like one who is conscious of 
 his strength and glories in it. 
 
 As they entered Mexico they saw the Castle of Chapultepec, 
 which stands on the site of a summer palace of Montezuma, 
 and is now the summer residence of the President of the 
 Republic. 
 
 They did not rush into a great car shed among many other 
 trains. They stopped at an unpretentious station; then a 
 rapid drive through the paved streets, full of people, of 
 wagons, of carriages, of street cars, past stone and brick 
 houses of two, three or four stories, past beautiful plazas and 
 old churches, through the principal drive of the city, broad 
 and straight and level, and adorned with splendid bronze 
 statues of Gautemozin and Colombus, and an equestrian 
 statue of Charles IV. of Spain the Little Trojan Horse, as 
 the Mexicans call it the largest equestrian statue in the 
 world, except, perhaps, that of Hadrian of Rome; past all 
 this and much more till they stopped before the handsome 
 house in San Cosme street which Don Francisco had taken 
 for his winter residence. 
 
 Mercedes and her friend, when they left the Academia, 
 went down the street a little way, turned a corner and went 
 up the street toward the Cathedral. As they passed the 
 National Museum Mercedes' friend remarked: 
 
184 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "How that Aztec calendar does stare at one?" 
 
 "Yes; what a study it is though! They tell me there is a 
 great deal of Free Masonry in it. It seems to me nowadays 
 there is more or less Free Masonry in everything," replied 
 Mercedes with a grim smile. 
 
 4 'By the way, you said you had visited the Museum. What 
 interested you most there?" 
 
 "O, I don't know. There are so many interesting things: 
 the Cross of Palenque, the hideous God of War, the Goddess 
 of Water, and the Stone of Sacrifice. I think I like best the 
 things up-stairs that are not so ugly: all those beautiful 
 things from the sea, and the birds, the Quetzal and the Bird 
 of Paradise, especially, and, well, the mastodon and the teeth 
 of the prehistoric man." 
 
 "Yes, for beauty, give me the last, certainly," said Maxi- 
 miliana, who was in fine spirits. She was generally in a gay 
 humor when she was with Mercedes. She had been de- 
 lighted to meet her in the Portales on the Plaza de Armas 
 only a week or two after the arrival of Don Francisco's 
 family in Mexico. She had lived in Salta and had known 
 Mercedes in the latter's less fortunate days, and now was 
 glad to see the improvement in her. She herself had mar- 
 ried a printer three or four years before and come to Mexico 
 to live. She had no children, and as she lived with her 
 mother-in-law she was free from household cares. Her fre- 
 quent visits with Mercedes, after the latter's lessons were 
 over, to interesting places in the city made a pleasant variety 
 in her life. 
 
 "You saw the State carriage of the Grand Duke Maxi- 
 milian? That and some large vases in the Academia, which 
 he brought from Austria, and some other little curiosities are 
 about all the royalty we have left us," she continued, scorn- 
 fully, for, notwithstanding her royal name, Maximiliana Valle 
 was a staunch Republican. 
 
 "Well, that is enough," replied Mercedes, who was not a 
 whit behind her friend in Republican sentiments. "We don't 
 mind those things. They make a place more interesting; 
 
MAGDALENA. 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 185 
 
 and one can bear royalty very well when it is shut up in a 
 museum." 
 
 "Let's go into the Cathedral a little while," said Maxi- 
 miliana as they approached that fine old building. "I want 
 to show you the 'black saint. ' He is the special patron of 
 discontented wives. If a wife wants her husband to die she 
 measures him carefully with a ribbon while he is asleep, and 
 then she takes the ribbon and hangs it on the arms of the 
 saiat, and presently the husband dies. That is some of the 
 doings of this precious Roman Catholic Church you are so 
 devoted to, Mercedes." 
 
 "You don't mean to say there are women who do that?" 
 
 "You shall see. The saint's arms are extended this way, 
 and they are full of ribbons. " 
 
 They passed the statue at one of the side entrances of the 
 cathedral yard, and went up the walk between the beds of 
 flowers till they were in front of the door of the chapel of the 
 black saint. They would have entered, but Mercedes turned 
 a ghastly face to her friend and, grasping her. arm, detained 
 her. She had taken in the whole scene at a glance. There 
 at the side of the room on a pedestal was the black image. 
 It was a very good representation of a negro boy of about 
 twelve years of age. On his extended arms the long, slender 
 ribbons were heaped up. 
 
 But this was not what had driven the color from her face. 
 In front of the image knelt a lady in a plain but elegant black 
 dress, with a black lace mantilla pinned over her waving 
 brown hair. Her eyes were uplifted to the face of the saint, 
 and her hands were clasped in supplication. It was Dona 
 Flavia. In the doorway leading into the nave of the cathe- 
 dral stood Don Francisco with staring eyes and pallid face. 
 The pallor of his countenance was in strange contrast with 
 the exquisite colors of the costly flowers he held in his hand. 
 Mercedes' eyes met his for an instant, and then recovering 
 herself she hastily drew her companion from the door and 
 they left the cathedral yard. 
 
 "Why, what is the matter?" exclaimed Maximiliana, who 
 
186 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 liad not expected Mercedes to be so much effected. "Did 
 you know that lady? What makes you look so?" 
 
 "O, I can't talk about it. It is so dreadful, so dreadful! It 
 seems like murder!" 
 
 "Well, I should think it did! But such things have the 
 approbation of the Holy Apostolic Roman Catholic Church, " 
 replied Maximiliana, forgetting the kneeling lady, but set- 
 tling it in her mind that her friend from Salta was a very 
 susceptible girl indeed, and not very well acquainted with 
 the character of the Church. She was the more determined 
 to enlighten her, for Mercedes' devotion to the Church was 
 a, great defect in her eyes. 
 
 But for the present, as they went on down the street, she 
 set herself to divert her friend's mind by calling her attention 
 to the handsome things in the show windows. 
 
 "Look what pretty hats, Mercedes. The merchants say 
 they can scarcely sell any parasols now since the Mexican 
 ladies have taken to wearing hats. Look! here in this win- 
 dow are Ponciano Diaz's costumes and the banderillas. I 
 wonder if he is going to fight. Those things are always dis- 
 played in the windows before he fights. There is a female 
 torrera in Spain who they say has promised to visit Mexico. 
 She will a create a sensation when she comes." Then wjth 
 more energy than ever, and almost in a whisper: 
 
 "Look! look! do look, in that carriage! That is the arch- 
 bishop's niece who lives with him in his palace. Isn't she 
 magnificent! Let everybody bow down!!" 
 
 "The Archbishop's niece!" exclaimed Mercedes, aroused at 
 last, and letting her mind slip back into its former habits of 
 thought, as she grasped the idea of a woman's living in the 
 presence of so much holiness. 
 
 "Yes; she astonishes everybody with her splendor when 
 she goes out. " 
 
 "The Archbishop is a good man, isn't he?" asked Mercedes, 
 thinking of the charities of Bartolome" de las Casas. 
 
 "Well, I should think not," was the reply, in a tone of dis- 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 187 
 
 dain. "He was a traitor to his country; how could he be a 
 good man?" 
 
 "How was he a traitor to his country?" asked Mercedes in 
 a faint voice, seized by her habitual feeling when she had to 
 listen to things against the Church that the ground was 
 slipping from under her feet. 
 
 "He invited the French to invade Mexico." 
 
 "Is that true?" 
 
 "It is a historical fact," replied her companion, greatly 
 enjoying the situation. ' 'O Mercedes, you would give up all 
 belief in the superstitions of the Church if you had a husband 
 to tell you what its character really was." 
 
 ' 'I am not at all sure that I should. I know a good many 
 ladies who have husbands, and yet they have not lost respect 
 for the Church. I am astonished that you have so little 
 reverence, Maximiliana. I should think you would be afraid 
 to talk so," replied Mercedes, with warmth. 
 
 ' 'I ought to have reverence for these things as the priests 
 have, I suppose. Like Father Sultano, for instance. He is 
 a priest in one of the finest churches in the city. He became 
 disgusted because the ladies went to early mass with their 
 bangs on crimping pins, and he resolved to teach them a 
 lesson; so he took the Blessed Virgin and rolled up her hair 
 in the same way, and when the ladies came he called their 
 attention to her, and asked them how they thought she 
 looked in the church with her hair on crimping pins. They 
 were horrified, but he told them that they desecrated the 
 church in the same way. He liked female beauty himself, 
 you know. But," and her tone changed into one of pure 
 amusement, "General Fulano de Tal happened to go into the 
 church and he saw the image; and he took that priest aside 
 and he told him if he di'dn't take down the Virgin's hair and 
 fix her up in a style suitable for the church he would report 
 him, and the priest made haste to obey his orders. Now 
 -what do you think of that?" 
 
 ' 'That shows that the priest did hav^ did have 
 
188 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "That shows that he did have respect for the church, 
 doesn't it? and apparently more for the temple than for 
 the idol." 
 
 ' 'Maximiliana, one would think you were a Protestant!" 
 burst out Mercedes, conscious that she was getting the worst 
 of the argument. 
 
 "No, Sefiora," replied her companion, a little nettled, 
 "I'm not a Protestant; neither am I a Catholic. I'm a Free- 
 thinker. Tomas is a Freethinker, and he knows what is 
 right, for he has read a great many books. He says that 
 Roman Catholicism is a collection of degrading lies and super- 
 stitions; and he says that we ought to be willing to examine 
 all religions without prejudice. That is what a Freethinker 
 believes. But I don't believe I should be a Catholic if I 
 didn't have Tomas to tell me things, for I know some things by 
 myself. But," she added after a long silence, "I don't mean 
 to hurt your feelings by telling you all this, Mercedes. " 
 
 ' 'No, of course I know that, Maximiliana. We are too good 
 friends to quarrel. I get so mixed up in my mind about these 
 things that I don't know what is right nor what is wrong. I 
 feel like I can't do without some religion, but, of course, we 
 don't want to be Protestants. It's awful to think of it!" 
 
 "If they were right I suppose we should want to be with 
 them, shouldn't we? Of course, though, I don't say they are 
 right." 
 
 Mercedes made no reply. She could not say she should 
 want to be with those "pietists," even if she knew they were 
 right. And there was the aperture through which the 
 "strong delusion" might enter. 
 
 A few minutes later they entered a street car, and soon 
 they stood before Mercedes' home. She waited a few minutes 
 till Maximiliana took a passing car to return home; then she 
 entered the house. 
 
 As Mercedes went up the stairway Magdalena swept down 
 it in an evening dress. When she saw Mercedes she ex- 
 claimed, ' 'Mercedes,* where is mama ? Why, are you sick, 
 
SOME NEW FACES. 189 
 
 Mercedes, or just tired? You must have walked too much. 
 See how pretty my dress is! I have been trying on new 
 dresses all the afternoon, and looking at them in my glass, 
 and I thought I'd go down and see myself in the glass in the 
 parlor. "Won't this be lovely with my new opera cloak. Papa 
 promised to take me to a concert this evening," and away she 
 wrent down the steps and into the parlor, a very vision of 
 loveliness; and Mercedes escaped into her own room. 
 
190 MEKCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 
 
 HE grasped his hat and book more tightly and left the 
 galleries. The thoughtless words of the girl had cut 
 to the quick, for though he was little accustomed to gentle 
 speech, he had never become insensible to cutting expres- 
 sions; and it*was very hard to be spoken of as a ridiculous 
 object in the presence of that other girl who had just looked 
 at him as if there might be some fellowship of soul, at least, 
 between them. But fortunately he had seen the look of indig- 
 nation which Mercedes had flashed at the girl. After all 
 there was more of sweetness than of bitterness in the occur- 
 rence. He lifted his old hab and slipped his hand, drawn 
 somewhat by the constant handling of rough and heavy 
 things, over his forehead and said, almost aloud: "The Lord 
 is very good to me. He has always given me so much 
 encouragement. " 
 
 Every one who has been in the City of Mexico has noticed 
 in the streets certain living creatures, which indeed he will 
 have no trouble in recognizing as women, notwithstanding 
 their disguises. The heads, arms and feet are bare. A piece 
 of straight, dark, woolen cloth with horizontal stripes ex- 
 tends a little below their knees, and is bound about the waist 
 with a string, all the superfluous fullness being gathered in 
 front, because of the superior facility in the art of dressing 
 themselves which this arrangement affords. Another straight 
 piece of woolen cloth, about a foot in width and reaching to 
 the waist before and behind, covers the body, the head being 
 passed through a slit in the middle of it. 
 
 The coarse black hair hangs in tags ; the skin is brown, the 
 features of the Indian type. Notwithstanding the conspicu- 
 ous poverty of a woman of this class she often displays on 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 191 
 
 her fingers and in her ears not a little copper or brass jewelry, 
 the touching reminder that there still exists in the degraded 
 body a woman's soul. 
 
 She goes about the streets often bowed double under an 
 immense load. Often an infant is strapped to her back, but 
 if she needs to carry a load of another kind on her back this 
 small burden is shifted to the front. If she has another child 
 who can bear the weight of the baby it is, of course, strapped 
 to his back. 
 
 The men of the same class are not so curious looking. 
 They wear pantaloons, shirts and sandals; and as they go 
 they make the air hideous with the crying of their goods, as 
 they seek purchasers for their fruits, toys, earthenware or 
 kitchen utensils; or they go bowed under heavy jars of water, 
 which are held on their backs by a strap or bandage of cloth, 
 which passes across the forehead. 
 
 Those of whom I write you are the native Mexicans, or as 
 they are called, the Indians, to distinguish them from the 
 mixed race those of Indian and Spanish blood who are 
 known as Mexicans. The former class are also called Aztecs, 
 though it is probable that many of them are descendants of 
 the more cultivated Toltecs, and of other tribes and nations. 
 
 It is estimated that more than one-half of the population 
 of the Republic are pure Indians. They speak Spanish as 
 well as their native tongues, except in remote districts where 
 they have not come into frequent contact with the ruling 
 class, that is the mixed race, and the comparatively few 
 foreigners who take part in the government. 
 
 Some of these Indians of pure blood have risen to distinc- 
 tion. Benito Juarez, so often referred to in this story, a 
 statesman of whom, no doubt, any nation would be proud. 
 was an Indian of pure blood. So was the great scholar, 
 Ramirez, and the distinguished savant, statesman and orator, 
 Altamirano, was an Indian of full blood, or as he would have 
 said, a Mexican. He was a gifted writer. 
 
 The nationality of those who win renown, as well as of all 
 others, is disguised now under Spanish names. When the 
 
192 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 Spanish priests were converting and baptizing the Mexican 
 Indians at the rate of hundreds a day they gave them what 
 they called Christian names, that is, Spanish surnames cou- 
 pled with "given" names generally taken from the Bible or 
 from the list of "saints." 
 
 Did you ever think how strange it would be if a foreign 
 enemy from you knew not where appearing suddenly as if 
 they had dropped from the sky should disembark on your 
 shores, and sweep over your land like a besom of destruction; 
 should make of your merchant princes and of your great men 
 beasts* of burden to carry mortar and stones to build again 
 the cities they had destroyed; should send off ship loads of 
 you and sell you as slaves; and at the same time should bap- 
 tize you by the hundreds in the name of a God of peace and 
 good will, calling the Smiths, Cuitlahua; the Jones, Maxix- 
 catzin; the Browns, Nezahualpilli; and should require you 
 to speak a language in which there was not a word of Saxon 
 <or Latin? That would be like what the Spaniards did in 
 Mexico. 
 
 Because of these changes of the names there is danger of 
 .attributing all there is worthy of notice to the Spaniards, or 
 at least to those in whose veins there is a good deal of 
 Spanish blood, overlooking the fact that history proves that 
 Indian intellect and courage and prudence have been the 
 principal factors in making Mexico what she is; for was not 
 Juarez an Indian? 
 
 The fate of the Indians in Mexico was not similar to that 
 of the Indians in the United States. There they retreated 
 through the shadows of the forest toward the far West, 
 melting away before the white man. Here they remained, 
 and they and the mixed race, which has sprung from them 
 and the Spaniards, are the people whom you call "the 
 Mexicans. " 
 
 But for this change of names in the baptism of the Indians, 
 the young man who has just come out of the Academia de 
 San Carlos and gone on up the street would have to be pre- 
 sented to you by some such name as Axayacatl, or Xolotl, or 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 193 
 
 \ 
 
 Ixtlilxochitl. But, thanks to the "holy Fathers," he was 
 called Teodoro Martinez. 
 
 One fine summer morning, about twenty-two years before 
 the time of which I write, two ladies, in black dresses and 
 Spanish mantillas, and carrying missals and rosaries, came 
 out of the church of St. Hipolito and turned up the street to 
 go to their homes. They were on one of the bloodiest battle- 
 fields of Mexico, as they might have been reminded if they 
 had looked up at the molded arms and martial figure on the 
 stone pillar on the corner of the high wall of the churchyard. 
 It was along here, then a lake filled with islands, united by 
 bridges, that the Spaniards under Cortez retreated from 
 Tenoctitlan, now called the City of Mexico, followed by the 
 Indians, fighting in the darkness like demons of vengeance. 
 
 Sometimes when one passes along there all the busy life of 
 the street, the rattling of street cars, and the crying of 
 hucksters, dies away, and one hears in its stead the clash of 
 arms, the panting of pursued and pursuer, the splashing 
 of the water as the bodies of the dead and wounded fall into 
 it, the groans, the cries, the shouts all the sickening terror 
 of that Sad Night. 
 
 A few blocks farther on up the street is a tiny yard full of 
 grass and flowers and vines. This is the place of Alvarado's 
 Leap; and farther on, perhaps two miles out of the city, is 
 the Tree of the Sad Night, under which Cortez wept over the 
 destruction of his army. 
 
 So it was historic ground; but these good ladies, having 
 known all this from their childhood, thought nothing of it, 
 but being come out of the church and turned to go up the 
 street they lifted up their eyes and beheld a sight which 
 made them look at each other and smile for pure and un- 
 selfish pleasure as well as through amusement; and then 
 they looked about them involuntarily to see if there was any 
 one else near to enjoy it. Their eyes met those of two men 
 who stood at the door of a little pawn shop, and they, too, 
 were smiling, for they had seen the sight; and they had 
 looked about them for the same reason. 
 
 13 
 
194 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 * 
 
 Then the ladies, ashamed that they had been betrayed into 
 looking and smiling in the street at men whom they did not 
 know, put on demure countenances and went on their way a 
 little more rapidly. 
 
 Down the middle of the street in the broad light of the day 
 came two Indians, descendants, probably of those very Aztecs 
 who on the Sad Night had pursued the flying ancestors of these 
 two ladies. One of them was a young man in shirt, pantaloons 
 and sandals; the other was a barefooted girl in a very ragged 
 dress, her bare shoulders and arms partly covered by a cot- 
 ton scarf. Each held the hand of the other; they were not 
 walking nor running; they appeared to glide on the air; they 
 saw nothing, heard nothing, knew nothing but that each 
 loved the other and that they were near each other. Some- 
 where up the street they had encountered each other, their 
 hands had touched, their eyes had met, and the story was told. 
 Then the strength of the love that was in them had impelled 
 them to motion, it mattered not whither, and with clasped 
 hands, swinging them like children, they started down the 
 street. Seeing them one hoped they would soon reach a 
 secluded corner in a tenement house, or some deserted alley, 
 where he might put back her stringy black hair and kiss her. 
 
 I have never obtained any reliable information on that 
 point; but a few days later the happy couple took up their 
 abode hi a little, dirty, smoky hut on a vacant lot. No mar- 
 riage ceremony had intervened. They were not averse to 
 marriage; on the contrary, they would have been married if 
 they could have paid for the Church marriage, but that was, 
 of course, impossible; they would willingly have been mar- 
 ried by the civil law but for the fact that the Fathers, who 
 ministered at the altars and held the fate of their souls in 
 their hands, taught the people that that was not marriage, 
 that those who were guilty of such blasphemy against the 
 Church were excluded from her fold and hence lost all hope 
 of salvation. 
 
 A little more than a year later, if Our ladies of the mantillas 
 had passed along a street near the one in which they first 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 195 
 
 saw the enamored pair, they might have seen them again. 
 She stood by a wall with a tiny baby bound on her back with 
 a cotton scarf. She was saying, in a high, hysterical voice: 
 
 "O, if you just wouldn't turn me into the street! if you 
 would give me somewhere to live, just any hut!" 
 
 He, having the policeman in his mind, replied in a low 
 tone, though angrily. And so the voices continued to alter- 
 nate for some time. 
 
 What was the matter? Nothing. Perhaps he was tired of 
 her; perhaps he had seen another girl whom he liked better. 
 He had not distinctly made up his mind to leave her; he even 
 yielded to her entreaties to the extent of providing her a hut 
 a week or two longer till the owner of the lot turned her out. 
 Then, after she had drifted into one of the great tenement 
 houses, he went there to share with her her small earnings 
 gained by selling vegetables in the streets went there to 
 drink and sleep and curse and fight, accomplishments in 
 which she soon became scarcely less proficient than he. 
 
 This first baby of her own that she ever bore on her back 
 was our acquaintance of the galleries, Teodoro Martinez. 
 In a drunken carousel they had raffled for the name of the 
 infant as it lay crying on the floor. 
 
 As soon as he was large enough to lift its weight the least 
 of the succeeding babies was bound on him and only at sho'rt 
 intervals during the day was he free to straighten his tired 
 little back without that load. How it happened that he grew 
 to be a straight, tall youth, I cannot tell. 
 
 His young life was not, however, destitute of pleasures. 
 He was not always hungry; the baby sometimes went to 
 sleep when he was in the house and then he could lie on the 
 floor and '' think," for he had that strange propensity; and 
 sometimes he could slip out to the street and see the car- 
 riages pass and the people go by. Once his adventurous dis- 
 position led him on a feast day, being lured by the music of 
 the band, to venture a little way into the Alameda. There 
 he saw the great central fountain covered with flowers, 
 arranged in exquisite designs, and the ladies in such pretty 
 dressed that they looked liked so many "Blessed Virgins. " 
 
196 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 His mother took him once to the Floating Gardens, whither 
 she went for vegetables to sell, returning in the early, chilly 
 morning, that the vegetables might be fresh and tempting. 
 He went with the baby on his back, and leading the child 
 next to. himself, while the third one was bound on his 
 mother's back. It may seem that it was pleasure taken under 
 difficulties, but to him it was an occasion fraught with de- 
 light. And with good reason, for he breathed the pure, 
 sweet air, he saw the canal and the skiffs and flatboats with 
 their coverings of canes and grass to protect the pas- 
 sengers from the fierce rays of the sun; and he saw the gar- 
 dens, so green, "so joyful," with many colored flowers. He 
 saw, too, in the distance, the great snow-covered mountains, 
 Ixtacihuatl and Popocatepetl, whose names were not in the 
 least difficult for him to pronounce, for he spoke the language 
 to which they belonged even better than he spoke the Cas- 
 tilian language. 
 
 * On one occasion his mother took him away out beyond Ta- 
 buca to see the Christ crucified. His pleasure in this perform- 
 ance was somewhat marred through the fear that they might 
 kill the man who acted as Christ, and also by the drinking, 
 cursing and fighting of the spectators; for though he was 
 familiar with such behavior in his own home he never lost 
 his horror of it. As many of the people were crowned with 
 flowers, he might have been reminded of a feast of Bacchus, 
 if he had been acquainted with Grecian mythology in those 
 days. But this day's pleasure came near ending tragically 
 for him; for, as his mother was one of those who exercised 
 herself most in wailing and wringing her hands, he came 
 near being trampled to death in the crowd; later she became 
 intoxicated, and she would have left him, but that he reso- 
 lutely clung to her skirt that woolen skirt with the hori- 
 zontal stripes, which I have already described. 
 
 He had one pleasure, however, in which there was no mix- 
 ture of pain. For it he was indebted to a woman named Lupe 
 Rodriguez who lived in the same tenement house. She 
 sometimes gave him calahasa (pieces of pumpkin cooked with 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 197 
 
 syrup). He never failed to slip out and give the greater part 
 of it to his younger brothers and sisters, over which wretched, 
 neglected little mortals his heart yearned with an old, pitiful, 
 fatherly yearning; but the little piece, that remained was 
 sweeter- for this self-denial. 
 
 Lupe lived in a little room just back of one of the front 
 rooms in one of those great "whited sepulchers" of tenement 
 houses in the City of Mexico. These houses look well enough 
 from the street, and they are often on good streets. Glancing 
 up, as you pass along, at the large windows of the house, 
 noticing the lace or some other thin material drawn closely 
 over the glass of the shutters you think it is the residence of 
 some family in good circumstances. It would never occur to 
 you that they were the only comfortable rooms in the house. 
 It would never occur to you that back of them, often extend- 
 ing over the whole immense square, is a labyrinth of little, 
 windowless rooms, whose only light and ventilation is re- 
 ceived from a door which opens on a tiny patio, a space a few 
 yards square,, open to the heavens. Two or three families 
 often live in one of these little rooms. They have little or no 
 furniture; all they ask for is space to stretch themselves out 
 at night. Along with these facts, take into consideration the 
 unneat habits of most of the tenants, and you will not be 
 surprised to hear'that they are the perpetual haunt of fevers 
 and smallpox. 
 
 The rent is as high as can be wrung from such people 
 "very high," they will always tell you. The landlords, of 
 course, grow very rich; they may be seen sweeping out over 
 the drive in handsome carriages, or flashing their diamond 
 rings over the gaming tables in Baden-Baden, or diverting 
 themselves in Paris, along with many of the owners of the 
 great haciendas thoughtless of the miserable thousands who 
 in the morning swarm out of their great tenement houses 
 and crowd in again at nigh,t. 
 
 Sometimes respectable families, being unable to pay rent 
 in better houses, are obliged to live in these tenement houses, 
 and their souls are much vexed by the character and conduct 
 of the other inmates. 
 
198 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Lupe lived near the front; Teodoro lived far back in the 
 hive. If he had known about such things, he would have 
 thought of those front rooms as the abode of royalty, and of 
 Lupe's room as that of the highest nobility. He always 
 passed very slowly by those front rooms and turned his 
 head as long as he could see anything of the magnificence 
 within, a circumstance which was very annoying to the 
 inmates. If he could only have stepped in and taken a good, 
 long look at the cheap and scanty furniture it might have 
 satisfied him. 
 
 Lupe's room differed from the one in which Teodoro lived 
 principally in that she had a bed and a chair and a table, and 
 that everything was exquisitely clean. She sometimes in- 
 vited Teodoro to enter, and talked with him. She was a 
 queer woman, they said. She spent a great deal of time, 
 when she was not making cravats to sell, reading in a broad, 
 thin book. She read some to Teodoro in that book one day, 
 and one story pleased him very much. It was about a little 
 man who,* on one occasion, when the Lord was passing 
 through the streets of a city with a great crowd of people, 
 ran ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him. 
 Lupe told him it was the story of Zaccheus, the shoemaker. 
 
 As he manifested a great curiosity about the letters she 
 taught him to read; and all the time she was teaching him 
 something better than that; and the result was that one day 
 as he trudged along the street with a heavy jar of water, 
 praying to "the invisible God who is everywhere," he came 
 to feel that he would be willing to give up everything in the 
 world, if everything were his, if only he could feel that his 
 sins were pardoned, and that the Lord looked upon him with 
 favor; and just then the grievous burden of sins rolled oif his 
 conscience, and first peace, and then great joy, flooded his 
 soul. 
 
 Soon after that Lupe, as if her mission in that house was 
 accomplished, went to another, and Teodoro saw her no 
 more; but we may hope that the blessing of God followed her, 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 199 
 
 and that she continued to "evangelize" till the time came for 
 her to enter the shining portals of the celestial city. 
 
 Before she left she gave him a New Testament which he 
 read a great deal in his loneliness after her departure. 
 Away back in the dim days of his childhood a realization of 
 the degradation of his family and surroundings had fastened 
 itself on him. It had grown on him till it almost over- 
 whelmed him at times. He compared himself and them 
 with many people whom he saw in the streets people with 
 gentle manners and in good clothes. But there had now 
 taken possession of his mind the thrilling, inspiring, uplifting 
 thought that God was no respecter of persons. And there 
 grew up in his soul a wish, a purpose, to make of himself 
 such a man that the others of the tenement house would treat 
 his words with respect and attention when he told them oi 
 the great salvation. 
 
 He sometimes did errands for the Director of a college. 
 Many weeks of this thinking and planning at last gave him 
 the courage to ask this gentleman ' 'if he didn't know no way 
 in which a fellow who had no money nor nothing could get 
 an education. " The Director looked him over with attention 
 and said, "We will see." The result of the "seeing" was, 
 that clothed in the cast-off garments of one of the Director's 
 sons, and provided with work by which he might pay for 
 them, he entered a common school. A year afterward he 
 entered the school of his patron. 
 
 Five years had passed and he had diplomas for all or 
 nearly all the branches studied by young men, diplomas duly 
 signed by the President of the Republic, Don Porfirio Diaz. 
 They had been hard years; he scarcely knew how he had 
 gotten through them. He had often been hungry and always 
 poorly clad. He had studied his lessons in minutes of leisure, 
 and in the streets as he went about his work, often with a 
 burden on his back and a book in his hand. He did as well, 
 and sometimes surpassed in his studies, the wealthy young 
 gentlemen of his classes who studied walking back and forth 
 in the shady Alameda. 
 
200 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Partly as a consequence of this they often said cutting 
 things to him. ' 'Protestant" and "Pietist" were among the 
 favorite names for him; and one wealthy young gentleman 
 from Guadalajara, the elegant Jose Maria Ortega, whom our 
 acquaintance, the Senorita Frederica, met during a visit to 
 the Capital, inquired frequently, and especially just after 
 having been eclipsed in Latin or Trigonometry by Teodoro, 
 after the health of his mother, using the most elegant for- 
 mula, "How is the Sefiora, madre de Usted " (how is the sefiora, 
 mother of your Worship) ? 
 
 This lady was known to them, for she had insisted, in all 
 innocence, be it said, on selling her vegetables in a street 
 near the college so that her son could carry them for her to 
 the place where she wished to dispose of them. 
 
 During all this time the good Director had stood by him. 
 He once or twice spoke of him to the whole college as a per- 
 son whose industry and good behavior were worthy of imita- 
 tion. He did so one day when finding Teodoro's deskmate 
 drunk on pulque and asleep at his desk he waked him and 
 sent him home, summarily expelled from school, remarking 
 to that youth as he took up his books to leave that this was 
 "a school for boys and not for brutes." 
 
 But notwithstanding the kindness of the Director there 
 came very dark days to our hero, through this subtle influ- 
 ence which emanates from the opinions of others and per- 
 vades our lives, days when he could not shake off the para- 
 lyzing thought that his race was generally considered infe- 
 rior, nor the more depressing thought of the shameful 
 degradation of his family. 
 
 When the thought of his race attacked him he always went 
 to the Pantheon of the church of St. Fernando. At first the 
 sexton, seeing what a shabbily dressed youth it was who was 
 peering through the iron gate would not admit him, but on 
 subsequent visits, noticing his quiet and respectful deport- 
 ment and the fact that he generally carried a book in his 
 hand, he permitted him to pass the gateway. He then stood 
 in a small, rectangular inclosure surrounded by four walls 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 201 
 
 the height of an ordinary room. Three of these walls are 
 divided into compartments, just large enough for a coffin to 
 be slipped in endwise. After the coffin is inserted the com- 
 partment is closed with a marble slab on which is an inscrip- 
 tion. On one side is a room opening from the Pantheon in 
 which are kept the funeral urns. After the expiration of the 
 term for which the compartment for the coffin was rented, 
 the ashes are taken from the coffin by the family or an agent 
 and placed in an urn which is kept in this room. 
 
 In the ground of the Pantheon are buried some of Mexico's 
 most distinguished men. But only one of these monuments 
 attracted Teodoro: that of Juarez. 
 
 It is a severely simple and elegant structure of stone, about 
 eleven yards long by six and a half yards wide. There are 
 no walls; the roof is supported by columns. On the outside 
 above the entrance is a wreath of artificial flowers bearing 
 the inscription ''Honor to Juarez." Above this, in another 
 and an immense wreath supported by the Masonic insignia, 
 is the celebrated maxim of the great statesman: "Respect for 
 the rights of others ensures peace." Within, thickly cover- 
 ing the walls and floors are many wreaths so that if one is so 
 fortunate as to be admitted at all he must step very care- 
 fully. There are large and small wreaths of artificial flowers 
 made of glass beads, and even some small ones of silver and 
 gold. They have been presented by every State in the Re- 
 public and by the Spanish and French Societies. The flow- 
 ers of these wreaths are of the most exquisite colors and are 
 artistically arranged. 
 
 In the midst of all this beauty, carved in pure white Italian 
 marble, is the representation of the body of the statesman at 
 the moment when the spirit left it. The strong arm has 
 fallen by his side, the head is thrown back; there is the Indian 
 face, the features so familiar to every Mexican. At his pillow 
 sits the bereaved nation, la, Patria, her young and beautiful 
 face turned heavenward as if she cried after him, ' 'My father, 
 my father, the chariot of Mexico and the horsemen thereof. " 
 
 Below the monument lie the ashes of the hero, the states- 
 
202 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 man, so honored by all the States, the Indian of pure blood, 
 Juarez. 1 
 
 The boy was accustomed to gaze at it awhile in silence and 
 then go away calmer in spirit, more patient, more hopeful, 
 stronger than when he came. 
 
 When the thought of the degradation of the family to which 
 he belonged oppressed him he went to the church of Santo 
 Domingo, the church of the Inquisition. On one side and 
 across the street from it and the little garden in front of it, 
 rises the handsome building in which was held the Court of 
 the Inquisition. "Here," says a Mexican writer and states- 
 man, Juan A. Mateos, in his novel, "Sacerdote y Caudillo," 
 "was administered the torture which was designated by the 
 palliative title of ordinary or extraordinary torment accord- 
 
 1 Note. The stories which are familiarly told about this great leader 
 are very tender and beautiful. One day, as a Mexican lady and I stood 
 gazing at this exquisite monument, which I have tried to describe, she 
 said, her feelings causing her to rise to pathetic eloquence: "When he 
 lay in state in the Palacio National the deep and solemn sound of the 
 cannon resounded every five minutes through the saddened city. All 
 the soldiers were in mourning, and often one saw the tears in their eyes. 
 A high civil officer and a high military officer stood at each end and at 
 each side of the bier on which he lay: they were motionless as statues 
 of sadness." 
 
 Then, again, this reminiscence: "I saw him once when I was a little 
 child. He was passing along the street in his carriage, and I was play- 
 ing before the door. I began to jump about for joy and cry out, 'Mama, 
 mama, here comes Don Benito Juarez!' He heard me, and he had the 
 carriage stopped, and he spoke to me very affectionately. He was so 
 good!" she concluded. She related, too, that at a breakfast, given to 
 some of his soldiers, one of them approached him and said, "My Presi- 
 dent, will you permit me to embrace you?" And he, opening his arms, 
 exclaimed, "My beloved sons, I wish to give you not one embrace, but a 
 thousand." 
 
 The familiar and favorite and most affectionate way of speaking of him 
 was, and is yet, as "El Indio , Juarez," "The Indian Juarez." 
 
 Among the other distinguished Mexicans, who were Indians of pure 
 blood, I will mention only a few: Altamirano, an author and a minister 
 to foreign courts; Ramirez, a very learned man; Du Blan, Secretary of 
 Finance; General Juan N. Mendez, several times Governor of Puebla; 
 the son of this General, who was also Governor of Puebla; Juan Alverez, 
 President of Mexico. 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 203 
 
 ing to the means more or .Less active which were used in 
 it .... In the hall were the necessary implements for the 
 fearful ceremony: tongs to tear off the flesh, iron gauntlets 
 to put on the hands of the condemned, after having heated 
 them redhot in the fire, ingenious apparatuses to make them 
 imbibe cold or hot water, and even melted lead; cords, in- 
 struments, buskins for the horse, and another multitude of 
 apparatuses in which the invention and genius of hell left 
 nothing to be desired. " 
 
 Sometimes Teodoro stood awhile in the little garden by the 
 fountain which marks the spot where the wandering Aztecs 
 saw the eagle perched on a cactus with a serpent in its talons, 
 which, as the god had foretold, was to be a sign to them where 
 they were to build their city, stood and gazed on the build- 
 ing where was held formerly the Court of the Inquisition, in 
 which now, having been confiscated to the State, is the 
 National Medical College. Sometimes he entered the church 
 to impress more deeply on his mind the thought of the In- 
 quisition, and sitting down, gazed at the harmonious and 
 softly glowing colors of the gilded pillars of the altar and 
 listened at the sweet notes of the pipe organ which was away 
 off and up somewhere in* a loft; or looked pityingly at the 
 kneeling worshippers muttering their prayers, or with scorn 
 scarcely concealed at the coarse images, such as that of the 
 life-size body of Christ "laid out," and the Virgin standing at 
 the head in a black dress of modern cut weeping with a hand- 
 kerchief to her eyes. 
 
 What was there in the thought of the Inquisition that was 
 to some extent a compensation to this young man for the bad 
 blood in his veins? It was this: When his father was drink- 
 ing and unusually talkative with the neighbors he often 
 alluded to the disgraceful fact that his father's grandfather 
 had been tortured by, the Inquisition for heresy. He was 
 fond of describing how his limbs were stretched on the rack 
 and twisted joint from joint, how the bones cracked, how he 
 shrieked and shrieked, till there was no more strength left in 
 him to shriek, and then his cries died away into moans, 
 
204 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 fainter and fainter, till at last there was nothing left to the 
 "holy fathers" but his mutilated body. 
 
 Teodoro had reasons of his own for desiring to know more 
 about this; and once he ventured to ask. But the only reply 
 he received was a blow and the assurance that his ancestor 
 was "just like himself and Lupe Rodriguez." So he was at 
 liberty to hope that there had been at least one among his 
 ancestors who had been a believer in Christ, one who belonged 
 to the nobility of heaven. 
 
 Though there was in his mind an abiding sense of the 
 degradation of his family it was only occasionally that it 
 overwhelmed him. He was usually cheerful and hopeful, 
 enjoying greatly his studies and the intercourse with the 
 other young men of the college. He had never left his 
 father's family; in their continual drifting from one house to 
 another he went with them. The Director of the college had 
 advised him to leave them but he had refused. He had 
 always felt that he was one of them; he must stay with them 
 and share whatever fate was theirs; and above all else he 
 feared that if he left them he might lose some opportunity to 
 rescue some of them. He especially longed to save his 
 younger brothers and sisters frdm being mere bearers of 
 burdens in the streets. 
 
 But he was coming to the conclusion that he could never 
 do so by staying with them; perhaps if he could leave them 
 and get a place where he could earn more he could make a 
 sort of home for them gfet some better rooms in a more re- 
 spectable tenement house and induce them to come to him. 
 Then he might teach them in the evenings. 
 
 He was thinking of this as he went along the street from 
 the Academia de San Carlos to the Cathedral. That look of 
 sympathy from Mercedes had made him think more strongly 
 of it than ever. He felt sure that sh$ would encourage him, 
 that she would think of the plan just as he did if she knew 
 about it. 
 
 Just then he was employed to sell second-hand books in 
 one of the stands back of the Cathedral. He liked it because 
 
THE GROTESQUE OBJECT. 205 
 
 there was leisure to read and plenty of books at hand, but the 
 pay was very little. He must try to find something else. 
 
 When he reached his stand he thanked his neighbor of the 
 next one for having kept an eye on his books during his 
 short absence, and slipping Luis de Granada's Guia de Peca- 
 dores (Guide for Sinners) into its place on the shelf he sat 
 down to think. 
 
206 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A DRIVE TO CHAPULTEPEC. 
 
 0N the day of Mercedes' visit to the art galleries Don Fran- 
 cisco, having finished his business for the day in the 
 Palacio National, came across the street to the Cathedral. 
 He was looking more cheerful than when we saw him last. 
 Since their arrival in Mexico Dofia Flavia had said no more 
 about Masonry, and Don Francisco hoped that her opposition 
 to him on that subject and perhaps on some others was grow- 
 ing less. He felt greatly relieved about his daughter, also,^ 
 for he certainly did not discover in Magdalena any inclina- 
 tion to take the veil. So it happened that it was with very 
 cheerful feelings indeed he crossed the street to the Cathe- 
 dral that afternoon. 
 
 He would have taken a street car for his home, but he saw 
 Dofia Flavia's carriage in front of the Cathedral, and though 
 he had not troubled her much with his society for the last 
 ,few weeks, knowing that it was not agreeable to her, he felt 
 this afternoon that he might safely allow himself the pleas- 
 ure of driving home with her. 
 
 Before entering he passed around to the opposite side of 
 the building and bought a bouquet of exquisite flowers for 
 her, and, as a second thought, another for Magdalena, 
 remembering that she might like them to carry to the con- 
 cert. He did not at first discover Dofia Flavia among the 
 worshippers kneeling before the various altars and images, 
 but presently as he wandered about in search of her, he saw 
 her in a kneeling posture before the images of the Father, 
 Son and Holy Ghost. She arose directly and after dropping 
 three pieces of money into the contribution box which sat in 
 front of the images, glided off to another part of the building. 
 
A DRIVE TO CHAPULTEPEC. 207 
 
 Don Francisco followed thinking he would sit down near 
 her so as not to lose her in the crowd and wait till she 'had 
 finished her devotions. She passed into the chapel of the 
 "black saint," and frozen with horror, he saw her hang a 
 ribbon across his arms, and kneeling before the image, begin 
 to repeat prayers with unusual fervency even for her. Not 
 even the appearance of Mercedes at the other door aroused 
 him sufficiently to move away. 
 
 Presently Dona Flavia arose and turned to leave, and hus- 
 band and wife stood face to face, and looked each into the 
 eyes of the other. Then with a sudden movement as if she 
 were shaking off a paralysis she swept by him into the nave 
 of the Cathedral. On she went, not rapidly, but steadily, 
 past the Altar of the Three Kings, past the chapels, among 
 altars and images and kneeling worshippers and deformed 
 beggars at the door, through the garden with its flowers and 
 ruins of the Aztec temple, till she reached her carriage and 
 entered it. The maid servant, who aH the time her mistress 
 was engaged within, had waited, sitting near the door after 
 having repeated a few Pater Nosters and Ave Marias for her 
 own soul's comfort followed her mistress into the vehicle. 
 Dona Flavia gave some direction, she never knew what, to 
 her coachman. 
 
 She must have told him to drive to Chapultepec, for thither 
 he drove. The carriage went flashing along among the. 
 others which vied with it hi speed in San Francisco street, 
 then swept out into the broad drive toward the setting sun; 
 on and on into that cloud of golden dust which looked as if 
 the celestial city were there and all those swiftly moving, 
 dimly seen chariots were rushing into it under its uplifted 
 gates. On past the statue of Charles IV., sweeping around 
 the lofty statues of Gautemozin and Columbus, darting past 
 those of the Mexican heroes on either side, past the moss- 
 covered ruins of the aqueduct, and into the Woods of Cha- 
 pultepec, drove that coachman as if he were fleeing from an 
 evil conscience, or were trying to save his mistress. But 
 none of these objects I have mentioned flew by his carriage 
 
208 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 faster than by the others. It is a way they have in the City 
 of Mexico that rapid driving. 
 
 They passed the caged animals ^ near the gate, then Monte- 
 zurna's Tree and Bath, the statues of Apollo and Venus, the 
 monument to the youthful defenders of the Castle during the 
 ''Mexican War,'' and the Castle perched high up on the hill, 
 and plunged into the dim, enchanted woods. 
 
 Dona Plavia was conscious of nothing till the carriage 
 turned to go home. She must go, there was no escape from 
 it, but who should defend her from the wrath of her husband! 
 "God help me!" she exclaimed; and then to the servant's 
 surprised question, "What is it, Sefiora?" she replied, "Noth- 
 ing," and held her silken fan more closely before her face. 
 Her progress toward vengeance was as swift as her flight 
 from an evil conscience. 
 
 It was dusk when the carriage stopped at her home. Don 
 Francisco came out, opened the door, and assisting her to 
 alight, drew her hand on his arm and led her into the house, 
 and up the stairs to her own room. He could not have been 
 more gentle and courteous if she had been his bride of 
 yesterday. 
 
 He shut the door and turned the key in it that there might 
 be no interruption from the children, and then again they 
 stood face to face and each looked into the eyes of the other. 
 Dona Flavia clutched the back of a chair with her gloved 
 hand to keep herself from sinking on the floor. During her 
 drive she had been seeing as if by successive flashes of light- 
 ning how her deed would look to her husband, to his friends, 
 even to some of her friends, to the world in general. For 
 though that proceeding had the sanction of the Holy Apostolic 
 Church, and she knew that she should have the approbation 
 of the priests and the sympathy of many of her lady friends, 
 who would not fail to observe pityingly : * 'Poor Flavia Salizar ! 
 to such a strait as she is reduced in her efforts to save her 
 children from her husband's influence! such a good woman, 
 too, and so devoted to the church! " though she had seen it in 
 this light only before she met her husband's eyes in the 
 chapel, since then it had looked somewhat different. 
 
A DRIVE TO CHAPULTEPEC. 209 
 
 She was a woman of the world, a proud and gracious figure 
 in the highest society; she knew that she was to a great de- 
 gree indebted to her husband's popularity for this enviable 
 position; she could not be indifferent to the fact that if- his 
 friends should come to know of this insult to him she should 
 bocome to them an object of contempt, tolerated only for his 
 sake. And her husband! she had found that she cared more 
 for his regard than she had thought she did. Then, as if by 
 another lurid flash, she saw the probability that he might 
 divorce her now, and so she should lose everything respect, 
 her children and all. 
 
 There was no relenting in that stern, handsome face at 
 wliich she gazed as by a terrible fascination, in those eyes that 
 sr-emed to be scorching her soul as if he read every thought 
 in it. Oh, if she could only sink down on the floor and cover 
 her face from his sight! 
 
 "Flavia." he said slowly, at last breaking the dreadful 
 silence. "I have little to say to you. I have learned the 
 uselessness of using reason to a woman who is led blindfold 
 by unscrupulous priests. They and your own superstition 
 have brought you to the verge of the commission of a crime, 
 to the actual commission of it in your soul. It is likely that 
 they will lead you further. There is only one step more 
 to the actual perpetration of the deed; the priests would ab- 
 solve you; the history of the priesthood is full of such as 
 that. your superstitious soul could easily be persuaded that 
 you were doing God service. You are in a fair way to bring 
 shame and ruin on yourself an,d your children, and all who 
 are connected with you. I shall take measures so that if I 
 die suddenly the matter may be fully investigated and justice 
 done to the guilty parties. That is all I have to say to you. 
 You are not the woman I thought you were. " 
 
 He looked at her, it seemed to her, a full minute longer, 
 and then went out and shut the door after him. 
 
 With a low cry she sank on the floor. It seemed to her 
 that she was dying. She half hoped that she jvas. Her soul 
 cried out against his injustice. She had never thought of 
 14 
 
210 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 that other. She had only tried to free her children from his 
 influence by supernatural intervention. If God should per- 
 mit the "saint" to remove him, would it not be right? "What 
 God did not permit the saints could not do." She should 
 never have thought of the other; she, Flavia Salizar! to be 
 spoken to about a crime ! To be spoken to as a criminal ! In 
 her humiliation she wished she could sink out of sight for- 
 ever. He was unjust, he was cruel, mean! But and there 
 was another flash of lightning it was no wonder he thought 
 of it in that way. Suppose she knew that he had, when she 
 was sleeping her peaceful siesta, measured her exactly and 
 had carried the ribbon as an offering to a saint, praying for 
 her death! It would have been a relief to her if she could 
 have shrieked. 
 
 "You are not the woman I thought you were;" those words 
 burned themselves into her soul. "That means he would 
 never have married me if he had thought I was capable of 
 this. Oh, Flavia Salizar, what have you come to!" 
 
 A great wave of hatred toward the priests swept over her 
 soul as she remembered how they had led her on, telling her 
 that any means were justifiable that might be necessary to 
 keep her boys in the fold of the Church. Even the good, the 
 elegant bishop had told her that. It seemed to her in that 
 awful moment that a veil slipped off him, and she saw him as 
 he really was, a monster of iniquity, a smiling hypocrite. 
 * And she should have to confess all this to him, she should 
 be risking her soul if she kept back anything ! He would give 
 her absolution and his hearty approval, she knew; but she 
 would rather die than tell it to any one; and it seemed to her 
 that absolution from such a man, an accomplice in crime, 
 would only increase her guilt. 
 
 Lower and lower she sank in the slough of humiliation. 
 Let us go out and leave her. But one word before we leave 
 her, ladies. Lest we judge this woman too harshly let this 
 reflection occupy our minds: "Who has made us to differ 
 from another, and what have we that we have not received?" 
 
 Suppose that we had inherited Roman Catholicism from 
 
A DRIVE TO CHAPULTEPEC. 211 
 
 generations of ancestors; suppose we had never known any- 
 thing else; suppose we had lived under the daily influence 
 and claims of priests whose powers and claims we had no 
 means of disproving; can we be sure that we should have 
 been better or clearer-minded women than she? Which of us 
 is endowed with a nobler, more generous character than 
 Isabella of Castile? And yet, influenced by her confessor, 
 she banished the Jews from her dominions, and introduced 
 the Inquisition into Spain. 
 
 Don Francisco took Magdalena to the concert that evening. 
 He felt that there was strength enough in him to do anything 
 that evening, to go to any theater or ball, to make the greatest 
 speech of his life in the Chamber of Deputies, to denounce 
 the Pope to his face as "the man of sin and the son of perdi- 
 tion," as the Protestants called him to do anything! You 
 would have thought so if you had seen him enter the National 
 Theater, with his head proudly uplifted, his eyes shining, 
 bowing and smiling to acquaintances, showing every grace- 
 ful attention to the beautiful, happy girl on his arm in deli- 
 cate evening dress and white opera cloak. He was very 
 proud of her, very happy to have her by his side. ' 'I am not 
 dead yet," he said to himself, lifting his head a little higher, 
 as he listened to her pretty prattle and watched the fluttering 
 of her pink fan. She carried no flowers: her father had 
 thrown them away. 
 
 Did he think of his wife, as she cowered before him? If he 
 did, it was to say to himself: "Let her suffer. She deserves 
 it. It may do her good. " 
 
212 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 5 
 
 IT was the evening of Christmas Day. In Don Francisco s 
 brightly lighted dining room a large party of children 
 and young people were assembled, and among them were 
 about two dozen people of middle age. 
 
 The whole city was keeping Christmas. But there had 
 been no giving of gifts, no making of Christmas trees, no 
 hanging up of stockings in joyful anticipation of the coming 
 of Santa Claus or St. Nicolas. If you mention them to a 
 Mexican and explain to him that they give gifts to the chil- 
 dren, and ask if the custom is the same here, he will reply 
 in a vague way: "No; I don't know who you mean, unless it is 
 the Holy Child; the pastores (shepherds) give gifts to him." 
 
 These saints are worshipped here, but not in connection 
 with Christmas. 
 
 For nine nights, that is from the 16th to the 25th, there 
 had been in the churches representations of Bethlehem, with 
 Mary, Joseph, and the Babe; and there had been processions, 
 carrying the images of these personages from one part of the 
 church to anotlier and asking for lodging for them. This 
 had been a favorite play in the private houses, also. The 
 procession, bearing the images before them, had gone from 
 one room to another, or from one suite of rooms toanother, 
 if more than one family lived in the same house. Some of 
 the inmates, to carry out the play, refuse them admittance, 
 telling them there is no room for them in the inn. But happy 
 the family which at last receives them, for presently will 
 come along the gay pastores (a band of boys who at this sea- 
 son go about the streets singing and shaking their decorated 
 staffs) and they will stop where they find the image and sing 
 
CHRISTMAS. 21 
 
 and recite poems, going through a simple theatrical perform- 
 ance in honor of the Savior's birth; and they will present 
 gifts to the Holy Child. 
 
 Now and then a man makes a vow that if he succeeds in 
 this or that undertaking he will devote so much money to the 
 training of pastores and to the buying of presents for the Holy 
 Child, or it may be that he has committed a sin and he does 
 this by way of expiation. 
 
 The evening before Christmas there was a gathering of 
 friends at Don Francisco's house. They had dropped in 
 after supper to wait with them for the midnight mass (the 
 Misa del Gallo, the Mass of the Cock). They had amused 
 themselves with music and conversation, and the young peo- 
 ple with games, had eaten the Christmas supper of bunuelos 
 (a kind of cake) and syrup, and when the bells began to ring 
 at twelve o'clock they had gone to church and heard high 
 mass till daylight. Then, the 25th being a fast day, this 
 good Catholic family had kept it as such. 
 
 A fast day in a Roman Catholic family reminds one of Mark 
 Twain's description of a French duel. There are so many 
 dispensations that the result is that everybody eats as 
 much as he wants. If one does not feel well he can eat of 
 forbidden dishes; children can, because they are growing and 
 need the food; those who work can, because they could not 
 work if they did not eat. 
 
 This good family, therefore, having ostensibly done with- 
 out breakfast, according to the manner prescribed for keep- 
 ing the fast, had partaken of an elegant dinner, then they 
 had fasted till supper time, unless the dispensations were in 
 their favor and permitted them the merienda. 
 
 But now the terrible fast was over, and to-night, as last 
 night, there was a gay gathering in Don Francisco's dining 
 room. Those who came early, they being for the, most part 
 elderly people, had supped with them, the remainder of the 
 company had come in after supper. The festivities in which 
 they had been invited to take part were more suitable for the 
 dining room than for the parlor. The table had been re- 
 
214 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO 
 
 moved and extra seats had been brought in and placed around 
 the walls. 
 
 Through the wide doorway, leading into an adjoining 
 room, was discovered a gay and beautiful scene. Every 
 visitor, after the usual salutations, passed into this room. It 
 was illuminated by a hanging lamp, whose prisms sparkled 
 and threw back many colored lights. The gay flowers of the 
 carpet seemed to laugh in one's face for very joy. Around 
 three sides of the room had been constructed a sort of coun- 
 ter of two steps, and on these and on the walls above them 
 evergreens were skillfully arranged. Among these gleamed 
 all sorts of toys so disposed as to represent various phases of 
 life. There were country houses, with their trees, gardens, 
 fowls, horses, cattle, and servants engaged in their occupa- 
 tions; the families of little people were there also; there 
 were lakes, made of glass, with swans and ducks, and fishes 
 in them; there were forests, with animals in the shade of 
 the trees, and bright birds, some of them singing birds, in 
 the boughs; there were towns with coaches and carriages and 
 railway trains; there were processions of pilgrims; there 
 was, of course, hi the place of honor, the Virgin, on a don- 
 key, with the Holy Child in her arms, and Joseph by her 
 side; just below these were two large and beautiful French 
 dolls, one of them a lady in a bright ball dress, who fanned 
 and raised a bouquet to her nose, the other, a gaily dressed 
 man who played the violin and "really made music." There 
 were, in short, toys of all kinds; there were vases and pic- 
 tures everything that could make it bewildering bright 
 and pretty. It was a children's paradise this nacimiento 
 made in honor of the birth of the Holy Child. 
 
 Magdalena and Mercedes had been very. busy making it, 
 and even Dofia Flavia had been less sad in seeing the happi- 
 ness of her children; and the children had said that there 
 was nothing like the making of a nacimiento to cure mama's 
 headaches. And they were still happier now, to-night, since 
 papa could be with them, for during the last week his busi- 
 ness had been so pressing that he had had to go out early 
 
CHRISTMAS. 215 
 
 and return late, dining at a restaurant, and "had scarcely 
 seen poor mama, though she had not been well." 
 
 Don Francisco's- "business," however, had permitted him 
 to be with his friends last evening. He had accompanied 
 them to the church, walking with some of the gentlemen, and 
 leaving Dona Flavia to the company of the ladies. As they 
 were to go to their respective homes at the close of the mass 
 he soon slipped out and returned home, leaving his wife to 
 return with Magdalena and Mercedes. 
 
 One who knew all the circumstances would have thought 
 this Christmas evening that he was trying to impress Dofia 
 Flavia, as she sat among the other ladies, that he "was not 
 dead yet;" he was so gay, so genial, so courteous, the master 
 of ceremonies for the children, the very life of the party. 
 That thought did occur to him sometimes. He had not re- 
 lented much towards his wife during this week that had 
 passed since their encounter in the chapel. He had not, 
 however, spoken to any confidential friend with respect to a 
 possible sudden departure from life on his part, placing him 
 under oath to keep his shameful secret. 
 
 He had thought he was not excited when he announced his 
 intention to do so, but he found afterward that he could not 
 speak to any one about so disgraceful an occurrence. Mer- 
 cedes, watching them both, Dona Flavia pale and quiet, Don 
 Francisco with, she thought, a touch of defiance hi his good 
 humor toward all others, while he left his wife alone, won- 
 dered sadly what the result would be. Would she repent? 
 and if she did would he forgive her? Or would she be led on 
 to take other steps, "divorce or something, " to keep her chil- 
 dren in the church? 
 
 Mercedes was by this time so far blinded herself by super- 
 stition that, though she thought of Dofia Flavia's deed with 
 horror and sometimes exclaimed to herself: "What kind of a 
 woman is she? Who would have thought she could have 
 done such a thing!" she yet had a good deal of sympathy 
 with her about her children. There was no salvation out of 
 the Church; were not then almost any means justifiable in 
 
216 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 order that a mother might keep her children in the Church? 
 Not such means as this, of course but any lawful means. 
 As for this, the deliberate procuring of the death of another 
 even in this indirect and religious way was dreadful; it had a 
 hint of murder in it. Could it be right? and yet the church 
 sanctioned it. Sometimes she wondered as she debated this 
 question if she were going crazy. To-night she was making 
 a desperate effort to put it out of her mind and be gay with 
 the rest. 
 
 Don Francisco felt a new delight in the society of his chil- 
 dren; it was a new and exquisite pleasure to him to find him- 
 self necessary to their happiness. He had even gone with 
 his little boys to help them select the pinatas and candies for 
 this occasion. 
 
 One of these pinatas now hung from the ceiling. It was a 
 great doll, a representation of a woman gaudily dressed in 
 pink and blue tissue paper, with staring eyes and grinning 
 mouth. The dress concealed a thin earthenware jar, and in 
 the jar was a pigeon. This emblem of innocence was placed 
 there "to make the children innocent." Each child in turn 
 was blindfolded and, after having been led about the room 
 till he was confused, struck three times at the pinata with a 
 long stick. The blundering efforts to strike it afforded great 
 amusement and were attended by shouts of laughter. At 
 last one little fellow broke it, and the poor little frightened 
 pigeon, with its head sadly bruised, fluttered off across the 
 floor toward the group of ladies. Dona Flavia took it up in 
 her arms and caressed it, and presently sent it out of the 
 room. Out there in the dark it suffered alone and perhaps 
 died, having to the best of its ability fulfilled its little mission 
 of "making the children innocent." 
 
 The succeeding games, however, had no such objectionable 
 feature. Another gay and hideous pinata was hung up, this 
 time a man. The jar, which his gaudy clothing concealed, 
 was filled with candies. When the jar should be broken and 
 the candies should fall the children were to scramble for 
 them. All the children had in turn struck at it, then the 
 
CHRISTMAS. 217 
 
 young ladies and young gentlemen. At last Don Francisco's 
 turn came and it afforded great amusement to all that he 
 should break it. Down came the fragments of the jar and 
 the candies were scattered on the floor. Don Francisco 
 nimbly extricated himself from the crowd of children who 
 rushed about him to snatch the candies. 
 
 This scene of gay confusion was at its height when a serv- 
 ant came to Don Francisco's side and said to him that a young 
 gentleman wished to speak to him. 
 
 "Bring him in,'' he replied, and then forgot all about it as 
 he watched the children. 
 
 The servant brought in the young man and left him at his 
 master's side. Presently Don Francisco turned, and seeing 
 him there, remembered the message. 
 
 "Ah, yes," he said, abruptly, and then smiling pleasantly, 
 he extended his hand to the young gentleman. * 'Excuse me. 
 I had forgotten. They have brought you into a noisy scene. " 
 
 "A very gay and pleasant one," was the response. "Per- 
 haps, though, I should not have called on business this even- 
 ing. As the pinatas have arrived before me I will give way- 
 to them." 
 
 "O, no, that will not be necessary that is, if I can attend 
 to the business here. I should be sorry to leave my friends, 
 the pinatas, unless- the business was very pressing." 
 
 "It can be easily attended to here," replied the young gen- 
 man, producing a letter. "The director of the college of 
 which I am an alumnus gave me a letter of introduction to 
 you. He said he thought you might need a secretary, and 
 that possibly I might fill the place satisfactorily. " 
 
 Don Francisco opened the letter and read it. It was from 
 his esteemed friend, Don Eduardo Recio, recommending this 
 young gentleman, Teodoro Martinez, for the place of sec- 
 retary. 
 
 "I am grateful to my friend, Senor Recio, for sending you 
 tome," said Don Francisco, with his usual courtesy, as he 
 folded up the letter. "We will see about it; but just now I 
 am too much engaged in these important matters to decide. 
 
X 
 
 218 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 You will remain awhile, though, will you not, and see some 
 more of these fine ladies and gentlemen demolished?" 
 
 Teodoro thanked him and accepted the invitation. That 
 was just what he wanted, as much, it seemed to him just at 
 that moment, as he wanted the place of secretary. His eyes 
 had been wandering hungrily about the room, trying to dis- 
 cover Mercedes. Presently he saw her standing in a group 
 of girls, talking. 
 
 "How strange it is," he said to himself, "that in a week 
 after I first saw that young lady I should be standing here in 
 her home, talking to her father!" 
 
 It had come about in a very simple way. The evening on 
 which he saw Mercedes he returned to the bookstand, as I 
 said, and sat down to think. He had been engaged in this 
 occupation about half an hour when he saw Mercedes and 
 her companion hastily leaving the Cathedral. Now he had 
 read some novels in his life, and perhaps if he had not had 
 that privilege something in his southern blood would have 
 suggested to him that he follow this young lady who had im- 
 pressed him. He did so, keeping at a safe distance from 
 her, on Plateros street. When she and Maximiliana entered 
 the street car he was near enough to gain the platform just 
 as it moved off. He saw the house which Mercedes entered. 
 She belonged, he knew from the handsome house, to a wealthy 
 family. He lingered, walking up and down the street for a 
 little while, and was rewarded by seeing Don Francisco 
 enter. 
 
 He remembered him as a gentleman whom he had often 
 seen going in and out of the Palacio National. The next day 
 he inquired his name of one of his companions at the stands. 
 
 "He? Why he is the Sefior Urbina, a Senator from one of 
 the northern States." 
 
 "Is he a Conservative?" 
 
 "No, he is a Liberal." 
 
 "Do you know anything more about him?" 
 
 "Why, yes, a little more. He is as fierce against the 
 priests as Juarez himself, they say. He seconded heartily 
 
CHRISTMAS. 219 
 
 the motion to banish all the foreign priests from the country, 
 and even gave some pretty strong hints that if he had his 
 way most all' of the native ones would go too or change their 
 way of doing. He is a strong man in politics and very rich, 
 they tell me." 
 
 Teodoro thought that he was very fortunate in having 
 gained so much information about * 'her father. " He inferred, 
 too, that so sensible a girl as she must be would follow her 
 father's opinion in politics and religion. 
 
 It must be told of him, for a historian must relate the facts, 
 towever little they may be to the credit of his hero, that this 
 unantic youth had already, in this one week, twice visited 
 Ihe house in San Cosme street, and stood for an hour or two 
 ifore it, gazing at a window through which he saw a light, 
 first night he was painfully doubtful as to whose window 
 it might be, but, the second, these doubts were resolved in 
 r hat was to his mind the most happy manner: the young 
 Lady herself appeared at the window between the parted 
 curtains, stood there a few moments, with her face sharply 
 mtlined against the bright light behind her, and then closed 
 te blinds. 
 
 It was Dofia Flavia's room, and Mercedes was in there re- 
 iving some directions about the next day's employment, or 
 the amusement for the children, but our young gentleman 
 jmained in blissful ignorance of that fact. 
 "Am I in love with her!" he had soliloquized fiercely the 
 jond night in the street, ' 'of course I'm not in love with 
 ter. I wouldn't be such an idiot! What an insult it would be 
 the daughter of one of the richest men in the city for one 
 )f the Indians of the street to fall in love with her! I'm 
 laking a fool of myself, of course, but that concerns nobody 
 >ut myself. There is no law to forbid my looking at the 
 Infanta of Spain, or even falling in love with her, if I don't 
 let her royal mother nor any of her people know it. " 
 
 And so, secure in the thought that none of this young 
 Lady's ' 'people" would know of it he was giving pretty free 
 )in to his thoughts about her. Yet he was loyal enough to 
 
220 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 sometimes strive against it. "He had no right to be think- 
 ing of a wealthy and accomplished young lady who would 
 never think of him except as of one who was to be pitied in a 
 philanthropic way, " he said to himself. 
 
 But thoughts are not easily controlled and he generally 
 concluded with the reflection that no girl need be insulted 
 that a man of pure morals, good education, and philanthropic 
 ideas in his own humble way, should choose to make her an 
 object of reverence or even of love so long as he did not 
 trouble her with his foolish notions. "He didn't intend to 
 sing any songs under her window, nor recite any poems, nor 
 throw her any letters. He was not Quixotic enough for that, " 
 he said defiantly. 
 
 But his mind was principally occupied with another and 
 more absorbing subject in these days. He must try to make 
 a place for his two young sisters and induce them to come to 
 him. If his mother would only come too, all of them to a 
 more respectable place and let him help them to lead better 
 lives! But he had no hope for any of them but the two girls, 
 and very little for them. Nevertheless he had set his heart 
 on this plan. It was his prayer night and day, and there 
 was not much of submission mingled with the thought that 
 he might fail. 
 
 These other thoughts were only a relaxation from this 
 great anxiety. The thought of the young lady was restful 
 because of the belief that she had sympathy for the poor. 
 
 He had made every effort he could think of to find more 
 lucrative employment, but without success. When at last 
 he was almost reduced to despair it had occurred to him to 
 go to his teacher for advice. When this gentleman had men- 
 tioned among two or three other suggestions that the Senor 
 Urbina might want a secretary he had immediately decided 
 to try that plan first. The result was that on Christmas 
 evening he stood by the side of the Sefior Urbina watching 
 the breaking of pinatas. 
 
 Now it is not to be supposed that this young man appeared 
 in Don Francisco's dining room in those clothes in which we 
 
CHRISTMAS. 221 
 
 
 
 saw him in the art galleries. Fortunately he had better 
 clothes, else how could he have received his diplomas in the 
 National Theatre from President Diaz' own hand? That was 
 a question that had greatly troubled the good Director and 
 his amiable senora a few weeks before. 
 
 The Director had sometimes in his speeches in the National 
 Pedigogical Congress when it met in the handsome Iturbide 
 Theater, referred to this young man, ' 'a son, Senores, of the 
 very Aztecs of the street,'' as a proof that this race was 
 capable of the highest improvement. 
 
 It would have impressed the fact on them more deeply if 
 he had led his pupil out on the platform before them in the 
 costume which he usually wore in the college, a costume 
 which was very little better than that of the remainder of 
 the male portion of his race, and had required him to show 
 off his accomplishments in the various branches; and no 
 doubt the idea of the capacities of the race would have sunk 
 still deeper into the minds of the audience on the day of the 
 Distribution of Premiums if he had received his diplomas 
 and the medal or two which were awarded to him in that 
 garb. 
 
 ''But we don't do things in that picturesque style in these 
 last years of the nineteenth century," replied the Senora 
 Directora when her husband had smilingly stated the advan- 
 tages to be derived from the course I have mentioned. l 
 
 1 Note. Several weeks after I had written this an acquaintance hap- 
 pened to tell me of a scene which he witnessed in the National Theater 
 in the City of Mexico. It was the evening: of the "Distribution of 
 Premiums'' of all the Preparatory Government Schools. President Diaz 
 and his Cabinet and several prominent literary men were on the plat- 
 form. At a certain stage in the proceedings Seflor Manuel Rubio, a dis- 
 tinguished statesman and writer, announced that an Indian belonging- to 
 the humblest class would address the audience and afterwards receive 
 his premiums for proficiency in his studies. He had completed the 
 course of the preparatory schools, finishing such studies as trigonometry, 
 Latin, and preparatory Greek. He had attended only the night school, 
 being obliged to work, like other youths of his class, during the day. 
 When, after the remarks of Seiior Rubio, the young man arose, dressed 
 as men of his class, in coarse white cott9n pantaloons and shirt the best 
 
222 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ' 'Well, I don't know what is to be done about it. We can 
 scarcely afford new suits for all our own boys for that occa- 
 sion; especially if we are to save anything to send Carlos 
 and Timoteo to the Military School next year, and give Tulis 
 better musical advantages," replied the Director, whose heart, 
 was always bigger than his pocket book. 
 
 ''Well, something must be done," said the sweet-faced 
 Directora; and when she spoke that way the good Director 
 was always pretty certain, as the thought of it crossed his 
 mind in the midst of his many cares, that the needful thing 
 would be done. 
 
 The clothes of a neat pepper and salt design, were trium- 
 phantly laid before him on the day before the Distribution of 
 Premiums. 
 
 "Where did you get them? " he exclaimed. 
 
 * 'O, I went to several wealthy ladies of our acquaintance 
 and told them the story and took their subscriptions, and 
 then I went and bought them. Aren't they nice? " And then 
 the Director kissed her, but that was an act that was not 
 very unusual with him. 
 
 It was 'in these clothes and with a new hat in his hand that 
 he now stood in the Senator's dining room. When he had 
 put them on that evening he had made some desperate efforts 
 to get a view of his person in a mirror that was not much 
 larger than the palm of his hand. He had found time to 
 think a good deal about his personal appearance in the last 
 week. * 'I wish I could wear such clothes as these all the 
 time," he had said. 
 
 Another pinata had been hung up and the children were 
 striking at it. Magdalena tripped up to her father, and 
 clasping her hands over his arm, said, archly : 
 
 he had and went up through the vast audience and made his graduating 
 speech there were gentlemen even in the audience whose eyes were moist. 
 "The teachers would have given him better clothes for the occasion," 
 said the gentleman who related it, "but they were anxious to impress 
 on those who should see him graduate that the very Indians of the street 
 were well worth educating. 7 ' So the Senora Directora .was mistaken. . 
 Things are done in that picturesque way sometimes. . 
 
CrfRISTMAS. 223 
 
 "O papa, you did look so funny and awkward when you 
 were striking at the pinata. " 
 
 "Ah, Magdalena, you are a naughty girl to say your papa 
 is awkward," he replied, patting her cheek. 
 
 "So," reflected Teodoro, "there are two grown daughters. 
 ' I do wonder what her name is. Some people would say this 
 one was the prettier, but I don't think so." Then he decided 
 that she was the elder, perhaps because she was a little taller. 
 "I like tlie way she dresses better, too," went on his thoughts. 
 ' 'That black and white dress is so simple, and she has on no 
 jewelry at all but that little pin." 
 
 Just then Mercedes came toward them. She was going to 
 blindfold a little girl. When she was near them Don Fran- 
 cisco said: 
 
 "Mercedes." 
 
 "Senor," she replied respectfully, stopping. 
 
 "Be careful to arrange the handkerchief well. I think 
 Pedro could see." 
 
 "Yes, Senor," she replied, and passed on. But she had 
 done what from time immemorial young ladies have done in-, 
 jntionally or unintentionally for the benefit of young gentle- 
 ten who are in love with them: she had dropped her hand- 
 cerchief. What happiness for Teodoro to step forward, pick 
 it up, and hand it to her, saying: 
 
 4 'Here is your handkerchief, Senorita." 
 
 "Thank you, Senor, " said Mercedes, with a little blush as she 
 
 )k it, her blush deepening as she glanced at his face and 
 
 icognized him, notwithstanding his improved appearance, 
 as the young man she had seen in the gallery. 
 
 And so he knew her name, and she had looked at him 
 again, and he had touched her handkerchief, and had done 
 her a service, and she had blushed when she looked at him, 
 
 >m which he knew that she remembered the day at the 
 gallery. Each of these things was great gain, especially the 
 first and last; if, indeed, any distinction could be made 
 between them. 
 
 He lingered at .the side of the Sefior Urbina that evening 
 as long as he thought it would be pardonable in a stranger 
 
224 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 who was there under such circumstances, and then took his 
 leave, promising to call the next morning at the Palacio to 
 hear his decision. 
 
 When he called that gentleman told him he did not need a 
 secretary, but he thought he could get him a place as copyist. 
 This he said, wishing to do a favor to his friend, the Senor 
 Recio. 
 
 Soon afterward, therefore, Teodoro was engaged as a 
 copyist. In this employment he had to wear his good clothes 
 till the time, though he did not know how more were to be 
 gotten when these were gone. But he "trusted'' that he 
 might be able to get more. He had a way of trusting about 
 all these things. 
 
 He took a room in a better tenement house, a long way from 
 the part of the city in which his parents then lived, a very 
 poor room, to which there was a very poor little kitchen at- 
 tached, and then he persuaded his two sisters to come to him. 
 He could do extra work at night to pay for the two rooms and 
 their scanty furniture. They could make rag dolls for sale 
 during the day and study the lessons which he would pre- 
 scribe and which they could recite to him in the evenings. 
 
 Such was his plan, the plan that his mind had been work- 
 ing on for years. They consented for the novelty of it. 
 
 They had been with him about two weeks, making few 
 dolls and studying no lessons, when the remainder of the 
 family took up their abode with him, and by their drinking 
 and fighting disgraced him in that house. They were turned 
 out by the request of the other tenants; and when he found 
 rooms for himself and his sisters in still another house they 
 told him they "would rather stay with mother." By per- 
 sistent persuasion and promises he induced them to come to 
 him, and the result was the same as before. It was evident 
 there was no use to try that plan any longer. He found a 
 room for himself in another part of the city, keeping his 
 whereabouts concealed from them. He paid a respectable} 
 neighbor 25 cents a day for his meals. She always spread u 
 coarse but clean napkin on the table for his plate and served 
 him "like the sefior he was." 
 
AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 
 
 IT was the evening of the opening of the National Congress. 
 Dofia Flavia, Magdalena and Mercedes sat together in 
 the third gallery of the Chamber of Deputies, or as it is still 
 often called, the Iturbide Theater, because during the reign 
 of that sovereign it was the royal theater. The bust of the 
 gallant and handsome, though too ambitious, emperor still 
 looked down on the republican gathering from above the 
 tribune. 
 
 The Chamber of Deputies is quite handsome. Around four 
 of the sides run six narrow galleries. On the tribune, or 
 platform, are three large crimson chairs. From the center 
 of the ceiling hangs a splendid chandelier for candles; there 
 are several other chandeliers for gas. 
 
 While they waited for the President to arrive the two girls 
 amused themselves by imagining which box the emperor 
 and his family, "the empress and the princes and princesses 
 of Mexico," as Mercedes said, had been accustomed to occupy. 
 The floor and the first two galleries were reserved for the 
 congressmen and the foreign ministers. In one box they 
 recognized the minister from Venezuela and the minister 
 from England. 
 
 The congressmen were arriving. They greeted each other 
 with quiet courtesy and cordiality, and then seated them- 
 selves to converse. There was none of that excessive cere- 
 mony which foreigners sometimes observe among the Mexi- 
 cans. Now and then two gentlemen embraced, after the 
 I Spanish custom. They were elegantly dressed in cloth, and 
 some of them were in evening dress. 
 Two or three short speeches were made and the minutes of 
 a previous meeting were read. The senators arrived and 
 
 
226 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 the deputies arose and remained standing till the former nad 
 seated themselves. Soon after a gentleman, escorted by two 
 others, ascended the tribune and took the oath of senator 
 before the President of the Congress. There was an admir- 
 able brevity and simplicity in all these proceedings. 
 
 Mercedes watched everything with breathless interest, 
 while the pretty Magdalena fanned and tried to recognize the 
 few ladies in the galleries, and Dona Flavia looked as if she 
 were suffering from chronic ennui. 
 
 Two young gentlemen sat near them. They were hand- 
 somely dressed and elegant in their manners, and one of them 
 possessed great physical beauty. They watched the pro- 
 ceedings with interest. One of them, however, the more 
 handsome one, frequently turned his eyes furtively toward 
 Magdalena. 
 
 "Well," observed he, looking at his watch with great satis- 
 faction, "it is time for the President to arrive." 
 
 "What did you say, Ortega? Excuse me." 
 
 ' 'It is time for the President to come. " 
 
 Just then the music of the band was heard outside, and 
 the President and his staff entered. Among them was a 
 portly gentleman, wearing a magnificent uniform so mag- 
 nificent was it that one could not imagine where another brass 
 button or bit of gold cord could be tacked. In his hand, with 
 all possible dignity, he carried his cap. It was gilt, and cov- 
 ered with the most beautiful snow-white ostrich plumes. 
 
 "Of course he is the President," thought Mercedes, as 
 she watched eagerly, while this gorgeous being seated him- 
 self. She h^d eyes for no one else, although she knew that 
 one of the number had ascended the tribune and was reading 
 or speaking. She thought that was only a preliminary 
 speech till Magdalena whispered: 
 
 "Can you understand what the President is saying?" 
 
 "The President! Then who is that in the uniform?" 
 
 "O, that is the Minister of War." 
 
 "Why does he dress with such magnificence, more than 
 any of the others?" said Mercedes. 
 
AT THE OPENING OP CONGRESS. 227 
 
 ' 'O, I suppose it is to give us to understand what a terrible 
 thing war is. That is nothing to the way he dresses some- 
 times. You ought to see him on the 16th of September, when 
 all the soldiers and cannon go through the streets. I saw 
 him once on the 16th. " 
 
 But Mercedes had turned her attention to President Diaz. 
 He was seated in one of the crimson chairs, reading his 
 annual message. He was a portly, handsome gentleman, in 
 evening dress, white kid gloves and a sash or badge of the 
 national colors, red, white and green, across his breast. She 
 was so far from him that she could not understand all of the 
 "message," but she caught something about the improve- 
 ments in the way of schools, railroads, mining and other 
 public enterprises. 
 
 "Mama," said Magdalena, "did you bring the opera glass?" 
 
 "No, dear, I forgot it," replied that lady, listlessly. 
 
 4 'O, what a pity ! I want to see the President. " 
 
 "I should think you had seen him often enough not to 
 grieve because you can't see him this time." 
 
 ' 'But you know I never did see him reading his message 
 before; and I want to look down there at papa, among the 
 senators, and see if he is pleased with the message." 
 
 "Will the SefLorita do me the honor to accept my glass?" 1 
 asked the gentleman who had been addressed as Ortega. 
 
 Dona Flavia looked around quickly at the speaker, then 
 extending her hand with a "many thanks," took the glass 
 and handed it to her daughter. But Magdalena had not been 
 oblivious to the admiring glances which the handsome young 
 gentleman had been casting at her for an hour. She, the 
 pretty coquette, slyly thanked him too, with her eyes. Doila 
 Flavia saw the glances which were exchanged, and after that 
 her manner lost much of its listlessness. 
 
 "Well, Ortega," whispered his companion, as he turned 
 his face again toward the tribune, "I must say you are for- 
 tunate. She is a beauty. I haven't seen a prettier girl in 
 a week." 
 
 "Why don't you say in your whole life! She is an angel. 
 
228 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 I'll give it up; I've completely lost my heart, and that before 
 I've been back here in my beloved country two days/' 
 
 "No doubt she will go to the ball from here. I heard her 
 say something about her father's being among the senators. 
 A dreary time you will have waiting till near daylight to 
 follow her carriage home, unless you happen to be invited to 
 the ball yourself, among the other senators and deputies.'' 
 
 "Look what an arm she has, and what a neck! I didn't see 
 a prettier girl in all Paris than she is! She is the girl for 
 me. I'll marry her," he concluded with decision. 
 
 "You would better quit looking at her. Her mother sees 
 you." 
 
 "I wish," said Dofia Flavia restlessly, as the reading of the 
 message was concluded, * 'that we could leave now to avoid 
 the crowd." 
 
 "You heard that? I wonder," said Hernandez, "you don't 
 offer your services to conduct the ladies to their carriage." 
 
 "I would if I dared," replied Jose Maria Ortega, "I'm des- 
 perate enough for anything. " 
 
 A few remarks were made by another member at the con- 
 clusion of the message and then they adjourned. Imme- 
 diately after the roar of cannon announced to the city that 
 the proceedings of that evening were over, and that Congress 
 was "open." 
 
 Dona Flavia and the two young ladies arose. As the for- 
 mer returned the opera glass to the young gentleman, saying, 
 "I thank you, Senor," he said, in his most faultless manner: 
 
 ' 'Will the ladies allow me the pleasure of escorting them 
 to their carriage?" 
 
 "Thank you; you are very kind, but my husband will be 
 here in a moment." And Jose Maria, a little discomfited, 
 followed his friend to the street. He had arrived two days 
 before at Vera Cruz. The remainder of the family had pre- 
 ceded him by two or three months. They had left him, 
 hoping he would pursue his studies in France; but that young 
 gentleman did not find studying in Europe any more agree- 
 able to his mind than it had been when he was in the college 
 
AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 229 
 
 of which the Seflor Recio was the Director. He was, how- 
 ever, fond of popular literature, and there was no danger but 
 he would always make a good impression hi society. Though 
 he was a nephew of Dofia Flavia neither she nor Magdalena 
 had seen him since he was a child. 
 
 He did not have to keep a dreary vigil that night before 
 the building of the Jockey Club, where the grand ball was 
 given. As soon as they reached the street a number of 
 friends bore Hernandez away to the meeting of a club. He 
 invited Jose Maria and was much amused that he should re- 
 fuse to go. The latter was waiting to see the lady and her 
 two daughters get into her carriage. Presently he saw them, 
 and to his astonishment his uncle, Francisco Urbina, was 
 with them. ''But no, that taller girl is not my cousin; she 
 must be a visitor. The other is what is her name? how this 
 tumbling about Europe does knock even one's kinsfolk out of 
 his head! Magdalena! yes, I remember now that is it. Well, 
 Magdalena, my cousin, I have begun to worship you to- 
 night!" and Jose Maria really thought he was paying quite a 
 compliment to his cousin from the obscure little town of 
 Salta; for was not he the handsome, wealthy, traveled, and 
 courted Jose Maria Ortega? 
 
 The next morning he sat hi one of the best rooms in the 
 Iturbide Hotel. The furniture was handsome and old-fash- 
 ioned; it was probably some of the same that was there when 
 this building was the palace of the emperor, whose name at 
 bears. There was a knock at the door, and obeying his 
 ''Come in," his companion of the night before entered. 
 
 "Come into my arms, Hernandez. Do I look like a fellow 
 who has watched all night in front of the Jockey Club?" 
 
 "No," replied Hernandez as they embraced. "But, tell me! 
 Have you given up the pursuit of your Dulcinea so soon?" 
 
 "No, certainly not. I saw them get into their carriage, and 
 it was my uncle who was escorting them, so I knew that the 
 young lady was no other than my cousin, my first cousin, 
 Senor, Magdalena Urbina. " 
 
 ' 'Your first cousin ! That is bad. " 
 
230 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "Why? I don't mind marrying my first cousin." 
 
 ' 'That is all very well, but you know you will have to pay 
 for a dispensation that is if the young lady and her relatives 
 accept you/' replied Hernandez, watching the effect of the 
 latter part of his speech on his friend. But Jose Maria was 
 too much impressed in his own favor to take notice of such 
 doubts. 
 
 "There is nothing more agreeable to the sacerdotal mind," 
 continued Hernandez, passing a cigarette to his friend, and 
 lighting one himself, "than the settling of the degrees of 
 relationship, and the estimating how much can be wrung out 
 of an unfortunate lover for a dispensation. The eagerness 
 with which the zealous 'father' rushes in to take the declara- 
 tion of the contracting parties is supremely ridiculous. " 
 
 ' 'Well there is no doubt about the getting of a dispensation 
 to marry a cousin, you know." 
 
 "O, of course not, if you are willing to pay for it. Didn't 
 one of our illustrious compatriots wash out whatever of moral 
 wrong there is in a marriage between a half-brother and sis- 
 ter by paying $30,000 to the Pope?" replied Hernandez, with a 
 jerk of his head in the direction of a palatial residence a little 
 way up the street. "And another, with whom I have the 
 honor to be acquainted, paid $16,000 for a dispensation to 
 marry his niece. If you wanted to marry your own mother 
 I've no doubt you could get a dispensation for the purpose 
 from His Holiness by paying much or little, according to 
 your ability. And if our spiritual Head should find out 
 through his devoted emissaries, the priests, how many 
 shekels your Honor can command, he will make a nice little 
 fortune out of you," and he leaned back in his chair and 
 puffed his cigarette with the complacent air of a man who is 
 bearing some one else's trouble. 
 
 ' 'It does go against the grain to pay out a great sum of 
 money in that way. But what is a fellow to do? And after 
 all 'it is for the Church, you know,' as my mother would say; 
 and a clear conscience is worth something." But there were 
 two reflections in his mind which were more comforting than 
 
AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 231 
 
 either of these: one was that it was aristocratic to pay for 
 dispensations; the other was that he, Jose Maria Ortega, 
 could afford to pay a much larger sum than most young men, 
 epecially than Hernandez, for instance. It would be a nice 
 thing to have the cost of the dispensation mentioned along 
 with the trousseau which he should present to his bride. 
 
 ' 'Why don't you be married by the law and let the Church 
 marriage go?" 
 
 1 'Have -some wine, Hernandez," said Jose Maria, not con- 
 descending to reply. 
 
 "Thank you," said the gentleman, taking the glass and 
 holding it between his eyes and the window, "but you have 
 not answered my question, Ortega. I am surprised that so 
 sensible and traveled a fellow as you should retain any re- 
 spect for the superstitions of this corrupt institution we call 
 'The Church.'" 
 
 ' 'I don't suppose you think I would be married in any but 
 a respectable way. Even if I myself were willing to cut 
 loose from all respectability, by omitting the religious mar- 
 riage, do you suppose that any young lady whom I would 
 have would consent to it? No, I'm no reformer; and besides 
 I believe in the Church. I'm not among those who set them- 
 selves to pick flaws in the management of religious matters. 
 I suppose they are all right or they would not be so. At any 
 rate, if they are not I'm not called to set them right. You 
 should go to Europe, Hernandez, and see how much Catholi- 
 cism has contributed to the advancement of the world. All 
 the great artists were Roman Catholics. And in the Dark 
 Ages the monks were the only ones who thought of preserv- 
 ing the literature of former centuries. Roman Catholicism 
 is ancient and aristocratic; but Protestantism, think of it! the 
 mushroom growth of yesterday!" 
 
 "O, I'm not making any defence of Protestantism; though 
 I may be permitted to refer to the fact one that you must 
 have observed in your travels that the Protestant nations 
 are more prosperous than the Catholic nations. As, for my- 
 self, I am an Eclectic; I believe in examining all religions 
 
232 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 and choosing the best from each one. However, I suppose if 
 I were going to be married I should be married by the 
 Church, especially as it is as you say that no respectable 
 girl would take me without it. And I'd pay for a dispensa- 
 tion, too, if it were necessary, and I liked her well enough. 
 But as to the rest of it the kneeling, and rolling up my eyes 
 to images and confessing to these villainous priests when 
 it comes to that, excuse me." 
 
 * 'You would have to confess to the priest before you could 
 be married by the Church." 
 
 1 'Well, thank fortune, I have no idea of being married 
 soon. But, Ortega, you won't buy the dispensation before 
 you ask the girl to marry you, will you?" said Hernandez as 
 he deliberately sipped his wine. 
 
 "I see no use to be in haste about any of it." 
 
 "You spoke to your uncle last evening, and then drove 
 with them to the ball, did you?" 
 
 "No, I didn't care about the ball. One finds everything in 
 Mexico stupid after Paris. I strolled about the streets 
 awhile and then came up here." 
 
 "When is the campaign to begin? I have a dagger here in 
 my cane," he said, drawing out a long, slender, shining blade, 
 "with which I can defend you from the dogs and all rival 
 lovers while you and my lady converse at her balcony. And 
 if you need any original sonnets, command me. " 
 
 "Thank you, if I need assistance I will call on you." 
 
 Then the conversation of the young gentlemen wandered 
 back over their school days. Jose Maria was eager to hear 
 what had become of "the boys" during the year and a half he 
 had been in Europe. At last Hernandez said: 
 
 "By the way, Teodoro Martinez graduated this year. You 
 would be astonished to see how he has come out. I met him 
 the other day on Plateros and he looked so well that I well 
 I was overcome with recollections of old times, and I asked 
 him into a restaurant and we dined together. I've no idea 
 he was ever in such a place before, or ever dined at a re- 
 spectable table, but you can't imagine what^ood manners he 
 
AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 235 
 
 has picked up somewhere. He may take a higher place 
 among the senators than any of the rest of us yet. He 
 wouldn't be the first Indian who had done that." 
 
 Jose Maria laughed heartily. "How could you, Hernandez? 
 Didn't you think of his mother while you were dining with 
 him?" 
 
 "No; I tell you I respect the fellow. His staying in school 
 notwithstanding all the ridicule he had to bear showed that 
 he had the right metal in him. " 
 
 "Ah, Hernandez, you are too democratic. Blood will tell." 
 
 "What about Juarez and Ramirez and Altamirano and 
 some of the rest of our distinguished countrymen who are 
 Indians of pure blood? " 
 
 But we will not follow the conversation of these young 
 gentlemen any farther. 
 
 Dona Flavia indulged in some gloomy reflections about the 
 young gentleman with whom Magdalena had exchanged 
 glances on the evening before. She did not want her to 
 marry soon; and even if she had she would not have contra- 
 dicted the traditions of her nation by failing to throw obstacles 
 in the way of a suitor, and trying to make him believe that- 
 it was with reluctance she gave up her daughter. "If I 
 could only tell all this to Francisco," she thought. "It is so 
 hard to bear everything alone and have no one of whom to 
 ask advice." 
 
 As she sat thinking of this Don Francisco entered the 
 room. She was a little startled, for he had avoided her ever 
 since that sad day when he had said, "You are not the woman 
 I thought you were." 
 
 He had begun to feel that a reconciliation on any terms 
 would be better than the constraint of the past few weeks. 
 Making an awkward effort to seem natural he said, "Good 
 morning," and asked if she was feeling well. 
 
 * 'Not very well, thank you. We stayed late at the ball and 
 I could not sleep this morning. " 
 
 This led to some remarks on the elegance of the ball, and 
 after a few minutes of this forced conversation he arose to 
 go, saying by way of excuse for having entered: 
 
234 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "Flavia, do you know where my handkerchief box is? " 
 
 "Yes; it is in the top drawer of the bureau, in the right 
 hand corner," she replied in a low voice. She knew now 
 why he had come; at any time during all these weeks he would 
 have bought new things rather than to ask her for anything. 
 
 "Francisco," she said tremulously as he turned to go. 
 
 She had risen and as he looked at her she dropped her face 
 into her hands and burst into tears. 
 
 "O, why will you treat me so? " she sobbed. "You know 
 I didn't mean you know why I did it," she exclaimed, chang- 
 ing her declaration. 
 
 He noticed the change and it cut him to the heart. He re- 
 alized in his disappointment how fully he had hoped to for- 
 give her. But he would take what she could give and be 
 thankful for that. He went back to her and putting his arm 
 around her said gently, 
 
 * 'Don't be troubled, Flavia. I know you would never have 
 thought of any of it but for the mistaken ideas you had got- 
 ten from the unprincipled, ly I mean from the priests," he 
 said, biting his tongue. 
 
 She drew a little away from him, and then leaned on him 
 again. The hope of reconciliation was too precious to be 
 lost. 
 
 "O, Francisco, if you only would do right! if you only 
 would do what would be for your good and the children's! " 
 
 From his heart he pitied her. "She really believes it, 
 poor thing!" he said to himself; and again he cursed the 
 priests in his heart. But he did not forget that it was use- 
 less to reason. 
 
 * 'These weeks have been very sad for me, Flavia. Let us 
 forget it all." 
 
 She shrank a little closer to him. "If you care for me how 
 can you refuse to be what I so want you to be, a true son of 
 the church? " 
 
 "We will not talk about that, dear; I have my convictions 
 about that; let us not mention it any more; we have plenty of 
 other things in common." 
 
AT THE OPENING OF CONGRESS. 235 
 
 There was a long silence. Dofia Flavia was deciding that 
 it was useless to mention the subject of religion again at 
 present. Then she said: 
 
 ' k l wanted to talk to you about Magdalena. I am troubled 
 about her." 
 
 "What about her? " he asked with a violent start. Did she 
 want to enter a convent? No, that would probable not 
 trouble her mother. 
 
 "There was a gentleman in the gallery last evening who 
 looked at her a great deal and she looked at him." 
 
 "Is that all? " he said, his face breaking into a smile, as he 
 sat down on the sofa and drew her down by him. In spite of 
 an effort she laughed, too; it was so sweet to talk to each 
 other about the children again. 
 
 And so the reconciliation, such as it was, was effected. 
 There was never any other such serious trouble between 
 them as this in which the "black saint" had played a part. 
 But she went on, in her way, trying to save her children for 
 heaven, and he, in his way, tried 'to save them for- his coun- 
 try. He never dropped back into his beautiful habit of for- 
 mer days of sitting by her with his hand on her shoulder; 
 he always sat a little way from her, and the little children, 
 with their sweet, innocent faces, flitted Between them. 
 They both suffered; she a victim of a false religion, and he- 
 was not he a victim also? 
 
 That same morning Magdalena entered Mercedes' room in 
 a loose dress, her long, brown hair hanging loose. Mercedes 
 looked up from the book she was reading as she entered. 
 
 "Mercedes, I came to talk to you, but you must never tell 
 I said anything to you about it. Did you notice that young 
 gentleman who looked at me so much last evening? " 
 
 "I don't know. There were two near us I believe." 
 
 "It was one of them; and I looked at him, too, sometimes, 
 of course, when mama was not looking. I'm sure I made an 
 impression on him, and he is so handsome and I'm sure he is 
 nice and everything. I'll meet him again at the balls some- 
 where'. Think of dancing with him ! It would be just splen- 
 did to have a flirtation with somebody." 
 
236 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 ' 'Is it right to have flirtations and think about such things 
 so much? " 
 
 ''Right! Who ever heard of its being wrong? If you had 
 been shut up with nuns as long as I was, amusing yourself 
 by reciting prayers and studying the catechism and embroid- 
 ering robes for bishops with the sisters trying all the time 
 to get you to take the veil and become just like them, you 
 would think a flirtation was the finest prospect in the world. 
 But I'll go if you have no sympathy to offer me. Adios." 
 
 "What a pity she doesn't appreciate her opportunities!" 
 thought Mercedes as she returned to the history of the 
 miracles and glories of Mary. 
 
THE STRONG DELCJSION. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. . 
 
 THE STRONG DELUSION. 
 
 |NE bright Saturday afternoon, in the latter part of 
 March, Mercedes and Maximiliana sat together in a 
 street car in the plaza in front of the Cathedral. They were 
 waiting for the car to start to the village of Gaudalupe 
 Hidalgo. This is the most sacred place in Mexico to the 
 Catholics, because it was here that, it is said, the Virgin ap- 
 peared to the Indian, Juan Diego, and announced herself as 
 the patron saint of Mexico. The village has another historic 
 interest for Mexicans, but a sad one; for in it was signed the 
 treaty of peace between Mexico and the United States which 
 gave the latter nation New Mexico and California. 
 
 During the few minutes that they were waiting not fewer 
 than a half-dozen men, women and boys, agents of the various 
 lotteries, entered, and thrust their tickets before their faces, 
 persistently assuring them in rapid, singsong tones that here 
 was their opportunity to win five thousand, ten thousand, a 
 million dollars. They all wore the wretched, feverish, anx- 
 ious, eager expression of gamblers. 
 
 Maximiliana was not in a good humor with her friend. She 
 had fallen into the habit of watching her apprehensively, as 
 we watch persons of whom we say that they are "not quite 
 right." She had reason to do so. Mercedes had, indeed, 
 given no signs of mental aberration, but she was becoming 
 too strong a Catholic to suit her independent friend. 
 
 A few days before, Maximiliana had taken her to visit the 
 monastery of San Fernando, or rather the comparatively 
 small part of it that still remained, for much of it had been 
 torn away to open streets and build business and dwelling 
 houses. "It extended away over yonder to the depot," she 
 said as they stood in a passage in the second story and looked 
 
238 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 from a little window over the tops of the surrounding houses. 
 The part that was left was used as a tenement house and was 
 occupied by very poor people. They wandered about through 
 long, narrow, dark passages, upstairs and downstairs, glanc- 
 ing into the little cell-like rooms, each with its tiny window 
 to make the darkness visible. 
 
 "You remember seeing in the National Library great piles 
 of old books, thousands and thousands of them, a great many 
 of them written in Middle Age Latin? They were taken out 
 of this and other monasteries when these buildings were con- 
 fiscated to the State." 
 
 "And the monks used to study them in these dark little 
 rooms!" exclaimed Mercedes eagerly. "I .wonder what they 
 are about!" 
 
 "I don't know what they are about; metaphysics, I sup- 
 pose," replied Maximiliana, with a touch of impatience in her 
 tone. 
 
 But Mercedes was thinking, ' 'What pure and soul-stirring 
 treasures of wisdom those books must contain ! What knowl- 
 edge of 'the plan of salvation !' No doubt they would answer, 
 oh, so many puzzlipg questions." 
 
 "O, Maximiliana," she exclaimed, her voice trembling and 
 her face illuminated with the thought, ' 'how sweet it must 
 have been to spend the time here studying such books and 
 only going out to help the poor and sick, and those whose 
 souls were troubled. " 
 
 ' 'You seem to have a queer idea of the monks. There may 
 have been monks of that kind in the world a long time ago, 
 but the Mexican monks were not hurt with goodness. I 
 don't know anything about them except what I have heard, 
 and a little that I have read, for that order, of things passed 
 away before my day; but my mother remembered seeing 
 them when she was a young girl. They used to go up to 
 Salta from Guadalajara on their missions. It was long be- 
 fore the days of railroads, of course, and they would go that 
 thousand or more miles in long processions of carriages. 
 The monks always rode in the front carriages and the nuns 
 
THE STRONG DELUSION. 239 
 
 in those behind. She said the nuns' carriages were always 
 closed, and when they were not in the carriages they were 
 always heavily veiled, because, forsooth, they were too holy 
 to be looked on with by unsanctified eyes. The monks wore 
 hideous, long, coarse robes, to impress the people with their 
 holiness, and under those, when one happened to see, bless 
 you! they were dressed like personages of the highest dis- 
 tinction. And that was the way they were about everything 
 grand hypocrites. " 
 
 But Mercedes only thought, "Maximiliana is so preju- 
 diced!" 
 
 After that they had visited a convent. It was a large, 
 irregular building, varying in height, and in the most capri- 
 cious way, from one to two stories, and looking as if it were 
 a pile of blocks that giant children had thrown together. It 
 wandered around several courts. The rooms were small and 
 dark, many of them receiving their only light from their 
 doors or from a small iron-barred window far above their 
 heads. Respectable families lived there, and before their 
 doors were flowers, and birds in cages, and happy-faced chil- 
 dren; all of it a strange contrast to the former things. 
 
 There in those tiny rooms were buried alive not a few 
 but thousands of girls, many of them daughters of the most 
 aristocratic families. With hearts as pure as Mercedes' own 
 they had entered on that life, dressed like brides, for they 
 were to be wedded to religion, and it was announced that 
 from that day they were too pure to be looked on, even by 
 their nearest relatives. The disappointments and trials and 
 longing for liberty we can only imagine. 
 
 When they came out of this convent Mercedes exclaimed: 
 
 "Maximiliana, I have resolved to be a Sister of Charity. 
 You need not stare at me. Isn't heaven worth all that one 
 can do to win it? Even if he must spend long days of tasting 
 and nights of penance and prayer? Think of the blessed 
 privilege of helping the distressed! Think of what it yould 
 be to help these Indians ! Look at them yonder, mere bearers 
 of burdens; how sweet it would be to go into their homes. 
 
240 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 and teach them to be women, to love their children and care 
 for them, to love and reverence the Holy Mother of God! 
 And even if there were no pleasure in doing all that, how is 
 one to attain the salvation of his soul without good works? 
 They might kill me, too, in one of those terrible tenement 
 houses, and then I should be sure of heaven.'' 
 
 "Well," replied Maximiliana, after a long pause, "I have 
 nothing to say to all that, of course, if you have made up 
 your mind to it." 
 
 "I was too much astonished, and I hadn't the patience, any- 
 how, to say a word to her!" she had exclaimed, after she had 
 related it all to Tomas. ''I promised to take her to the Vil- 
 lage of Guadalupe, but I'm so disgusted I've a mind not to 
 do it!" 
 
 "Yes, I would, if I were you. I would not break friend- 
 ship with her. Maybe you can persuade her and show her 
 the foolishness of such a course, " Tomas had replied to his 
 impetuous helpmeet. And so it happened that they were on 
 the way to the most sacred shrine of the Virgin. 
 
 A few other persons entered the car and soon it started 
 over "the broad old road of humiliation, prayer and penance. 
 Along all these weary miles of scourges and suffering, thou- 
 sands and tens of thousands of the devotees of the Romish 
 Church have knelt and wept and crawled, praying for the 
 expiation of their sins, in obedience to priestly decree, or 
 superstitious sense of duty." 
 
 But nobody does that now; it seems to have lost its virtue. 
 When the wife of the President and two hundred of the other 
 principal ladies of the City of Mexico went to this shrine a 
 short time ago to implore the intercession of Our Lady of 
 Guadalupe that the cholera might be averted, they did not 
 go on their knees. 
 
 So strong was the crying in Mercedes' soul for peace it 
 would have been a relief to her to kneel and weep and crawl 
 and scourge herself in the old fashion all the way from the 
 Cathedral to the shrine of the Virgin. 
 
 When they arrived at the village they went first to the spot 
 
THE STRONG DELUSION. 241 
 
 where, it is said, the Virgin appeared the fourth time to Juan 
 Diego. There is nothing imposing about the building. The 
 railing in front of the altar is of solid silver, covered with 
 gold. It is about one and a half inches thick. But it is not of 
 fine workmanship, and the pictures representing the appear- 
 ances of the Virgin have no merit as works of art. 
 
 There were several well-dressed ladies, kneeling and recit- 
 ing prayers to one or another of the images or pictures. 
 Among them went a woman with a dust pan and a broom, 
 busily sweeping the floor. 
 
 Mercedes having recited her prayers here, while Maxi- 
 milian a sat on one of the benches and looked on, they went 
 to the tiny chapel where the Virgin appeared the second and 
 third times, and where she gave the flowers to the Indian. 
 In the anteroom is a large and strongly boiling spring of 
 chalybeate water; it was created by the Virgin and therefore 
 has miraculous properties. 
 
 Once a year thousands of Indians come on pilgrimages 
 hundreds of miles to pass here the Day of the Virgin of 
 Guadalupe, to drink of this water and to engage in the great 
 dance in honor of Our Lady, and buy the little cakes made of 
 this holy earth and stamped with her image, which cakes 
 have virtue to cure them of any or "all the ills that flesh is 
 heir to." 
 
 Mercedes and her friend drank from one of the little leak- 
 ing copper buckets, the former remarking, "You know, of 
 course, I don't believe that this water has any miraculous 
 power, nor those cakes either. I leave all such nonsense as 
 that to the Indians." 
 
 "The Infallible Church teaches it. If you accept one of her 
 doctrines you ought to accept all." 
 
 "That does not follow at all. It is necessary to teach the 
 Indians a religion that is within the grasp of their intellect. 
 We are not expected to believe it." 
 
 At last they ascended the hill to visit the holiest place of 
 all, the little chapel which marks the spot where she appeared 
 the first time. There is a wide stairway of stone steps from 
 
 16 
 
242 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 the base to the top of the hill. The tiny church on the 
 summit is, like all the others, adorned with many images and 
 pictures, all of them of little or no artistic merit. On slabs 
 in the stone floor of the chapel are inscriptions marking the 
 final resting place of those whose riches have secured them 
 the privilege of burial there. In the paved space in front of 
 the chapel there are other and similar inscriptions, and behind 
 the edifice there is a small cemetery with many rich and 
 curious monuments. The eyes grow tired of looking at the 
 heavy, silver chains with which they are adorned. Here, 
 under a plain marble slab, sleeps Santa Anna, his fever- 
 ish life ended. He rests here in the most sacred of the 
 burying grounds, but "unwept, unhonored and unsung" by 
 the Mexicans. But they speak no evil of him no more than 
 they do of the unfortunate Maximilian. 
 
 "When they had reached the -summit of the hill Mercedes 
 had turned her head for an instant and caught her breath as 
 the landscape burst upon her vision. But duty called her, 
 and she entered the chapel to count her beads and repeat 
 Ave Marias and Pater Nosters as rapidly as her girlish 
 voice could slip over the words; then to the cemetery, and 
 duty was ended. 
 
 When they came back to the front of the chapel the land- 
 scape again swan? before her eyes, and she exclaimed: "How 
 beautiful, beaut' _ul!" 
 
 There in the distance was the amphitheater of purple 
 mountains; and from the circular range arose the snow-cov- 
 ered volcanoes, Popocatepetl and Ictacihuatl, the Woman 
 in White. They were giants once, and husband and wife; 
 but the Great Spirit became enraged against them and turned 
 the woman to stone. When, in former years, Popocatepetl 
 roared and poured out lava, the Indians said it was in grief 
 and rage for the death of his wife. 
 
 One who has ever seen a corpse covered with a sheet will 
 never forget how the sheet sinks down over the still body, 
 showing every outline. Well, yonder it is, that sheet, ' 'white 
 as no fuller on earth could whiten it," sunk down over the 
 
THE STRONG DELUSION. 243 
 
 corpse of the giant Ictacihuatl. It is all there, the ' 'decent 
 composure" of the figure, the head, the folded arms, the feet. 
 Her long black hair streams down the mountain side. Along 
 the whole length of the mountain she lies, the dead giant 
 wife, and by her side, but at a little distance, as if he would 
 not, through reverence for the mystery, approach too near 
 the dead, stands the giant husband, his hoary head among 
 the clouds. 
 
 At their feet lies the Valley of Mexico, green as emerald, 
 and dotted with little silver lakes and patches of yellow 
 flowers. In the distance smiles the broad peaceful surface of 
 Lake Tezcuco, now silver, now blue, in the soft sunlight. In 
 the midst of the valley sits, like a queen, the City of Mexico. 
 
 I have seen much of the beauty of mountains and of val- 
 leys. I have seen the mountains when an ethereal, purple 
 veil hung over them, so near it seemed I might put out my 
 hand and touch its silken folds, if it were tangible. I have 
 opened a door sometimes in winter and started back because 
 the mountains seemed to stand at the very entrance, like 
 great, brown, grim giants. I have seen range on range, 
 covered with glittering snow. I have seen them gorgeous in 
 autumn foliage. I have stood on the mountains and seen the 
 white fog rolling and heaving and tossing, like the ocean, 
 they said ; and then it would break and r*oll away, and there 
 below would be the green valley and the silvery streams and 
 the peaceful farm houses, with the blue smoke curling up- 
 ward from their chimneys. I have stood on Lookout Moun- 
 tain and gazed on the city below, the winding river, and that 
 magnificent semicircle of country, and far off into the adjoin- 
 ing States. But never in my life have I seen any panorama 
 that for beauty and sublimity was equal to the Valley of 
 Mexico and its encircling mountains. 
 
 Mercedes gazed, speechless. The past arose before her 
 and she "saw a vision." The tribes were coming over the 
 mountains from the North Ah! whence did they come? 
 and they descended into the lake of islands and built a city, for 
 so had the god commanded them. The centuries swept by 
 
244 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 and over the ocean came some great white- winged living 
 creatures, and out of them stepped Quetzalcoatl, the Fair 
 God, so long foretold and expected, and with horrible cruel- 
 ties he and his followers taught the worship of the true God 
 to the dwellers in the beautiful valley. 
 
 Then she remembered that the Virgin had appeared on this 
 very hill in all her celestial majesty, beautiful as Venus when 
 she appeared to ^Eneas, as he looked down on the rising 
 walls of the city of Dido; and again she remembered that she 
 had read in a book of Castelar's that the English poet Byron 
 had believed that he saw in the twilight, ' -on the border of 
 the horizon, beyond Venice, gliding over the waters like the 
 stars of heaven, the' Mother of the Word, with the moon 
 under her feet, and with the mysterious white dove fluttering 
 its wings on her forehead in that sublime hour of prayer and 
 of love." "Oh, what manner of man in all holiness of life 
 and of heart must have been that poet Byron ever after!" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "Why might not I see a vision of the Virgin Mother?" she 
 asked herself. She had resolved now as a last resort to give 
 up all the hope and joy and brightness of life, and it was no 
 small sacrifice (and the sobs choked her,- and she wrung her 
 hands as she thought of the giving up of life); she had 
 resolved to shroud Ser young form in mourning, to spend her 
 nights in prayer and penance, and her days in fasting and in 
 good works among the most degraded, to give all her 
 thoughts to the worship of God and of his "Holy Mother." 
 She had struggled long to know the truth; she had walked 
 in darkness and had no light, she said to herself; forget- 
 ting for the moment that when she had been forced to face 
 the question, she had felt in her heart that if she knew the 
 Protestants had the truth she would not accept it from them. 
 
 She fell on her knees and clasped her hands, as she gazed 
 at the snow-capped mountains and the lake at their feet. If 
 she could only could only see for one instant the fair Virgin 
 Mother with the Babe on her bosom gliding over those 
 waters, then she should know that she had done right; then 
 
THE STRONG DELUSION. 245 
 
 she should know that the Roman Catholic Church was the 
 true church. That should be a sign to her. Could it be de- 
 nied? Was it not reasonable and right that the "Queen of 
 Heaven," the "Holy Mother of God," should give her a sign 
 now that she might no longer walk in darkness, but might 
 enter on this new life with confidence that she should in it 
 and by it win salvation? Her soul demanded it. 
 
 She watched a long time with in tensest gaze. There, near 
 the mountains, on the border of the blue lake, did not some- 
 thing move? She pressed her clasped hands on her bosom 
 and gazed and gazed till, with bitterness of soul, she knew 
 it was nothing. 
 
 Then she arose. ' 'What was she that she should ask a sign 
 from heaven! She, who, as yet, knew nothing of fasting and 
 prayer and scourging! She, who had come easily and luxu- 
 riously to worship at the shrine of the Virgin ! It was not to 
 such that signs and visions were granted." 
 
 She drew her black scarf over her head, mechanically 
 brushed the dust from her plain black dress, then entered 
 the chapel and spoke to Maximiliana, who sat there waiting 
 and resting; and, saddened and silent, both of them, they 
 went down the hill and to the station, and to the city. 
 
 That night, when the house was quiet, Mercedes locked 
 her door and then went to a small piece of furniture, that is 
 called in Mexican homes a buro. It had a drawer, and below 
 it a door which opened on a case of shelves. She knelt and 
 drew out the drawer slowly, for there was something in it 
 which made it heavy. 
 
 And there lay the things, dark, .heavy things, horrible - 
 looking things, coiled and folded, on the bottom of the 
 drawer. She had borrowed them secretly from an old woman 
 who sometimes came to the house, and who had happened to 
 tell her of them one day. Night after night she had knelt 
 there and looked at them, and then closed the drawer and 
 lain down on her bed and slept, or tossed till day. 
 
 To-night she took up one of them. It was a belt closely 
 woven of iron half -links, with the two sharp points of each 
 
246 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 link turned on the same side of the belt. She hooked it 
 about her waist, next her flesh. Then she took up two instru- 
 ments like soles of shoes. There were sharp iron points on 
 them. She fastened them on her feet, with the points next 
 the flesh. After that she lifted up from its coils a leathern 
 scourge of three thongs, furnished with sharp points of iron, 
 and having bared her shoulders, she scourged herself with it 
 till the blood flowed; and at every movement the belt digged 
 into the flesh of her waist and the sharp points into her feet. 
 When this was ended she lay all night on the bare floor. 
 
 Do you think I have exaggerated this? Do you think that 
 nobody does this now that we are almost at the end of the 
 nineteenth century, unless it v be some fanatic in a convent? 
 You are mistaken. A few days ago I read in a secular 
 paper, published in the City of Mexico, that two young 
 ladies in Yucatan, one of the States of this Republic, had 
 killed themselves by the exercises, that is the scourging and 
 other mortifications of the body, to which they subjected 
 themselves by way of preparation for the Holy Week, which 
 is just past. In many cities and towns of Mexico the people 
 shut themselves in the churches at night, the women in one 
 part of the church and the menAn the other, put out the 
 lights and scourge each other with the leathern scourge, the 
 disciplina, as it is called, and with thorny sticks, as a prep- 
 aration for the taking of the eucharist during Holy Week. 
 
 The Church invented penance in order to sell dispensations, 
 but there are people who have a better opinion of the Church, 
 and they think the prescribed mortifications are for the good 
 of the soul. 
 
 While Mercedes scourged herself there stood in front of 
 the house a young man, looking at Dofia Plavia's window, 
 that young man to whom years before Lupe Rodrigues had 
 taught the truth as it is in Jesus. 
 
THE GOD CUPID. 247 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE GOD CUPID. 
 
 is no image of him in the temples among those of 
 J the other gods, but his influence is none the less potent 
 for that omission. 
 
 Jose Maria Ortega had "opened the campaign." Had he 
 called at his uncle's house and made the acquaintance of his 
 aunt and cousins? Did he call afterward on Magdalena 
 alone? Did he take her to parties, theaters and operas? Did 
 he drive with her? By no means; that is not the way court- 
 ing is done in Mexico. 
 
 He might have called at the house but for the fact that the 
 idea that Dona Flavia did not like him had somehow intro- 
 duced itself into his head. But there were other ways to 
 make known his feelings to his pretty cousin. He knew that 
 she, like all other fashionable young ladies whose papas were 
 so fortunate as to own carriages, would drive with her mama 
 in the afternoons; so he, too, frequented the drive. He rode 
 horseback, and he was not less handsome on horseback than 
 in any other position or occupation a fact of which he was 
 as fully aware as anybody else. 
 
 Sometimes he swept along the drive among the flying car- 
 riages and other horsemen in a magnificent equestrian cos- 
 tume, that which is called "the national costume," more be- 
 cause in has been, adopted as such than because of its general 
 use. If consisted of a jacket and pantaloons, ornamented to 
 the highest degree with silver cord and buttons; a broad- 
 brimmed, bell-crowned hat, heavily adorned with silver cord 
 and the Mexican eagle; immense spurs, inlaid with silver; a 
 large saddle, ornamented with the same precious metal, and 
 reins, because of whose silver decorations, 
 
 "When he rode men might his bridle hear 
 Jingling in the whistling wind as clear. 
 And eke as loud as doth the chapel bell." 
 
248 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 A shawl of fine material, and of all the colors of the rain- 
 bow, lay behind his saddle and swept nearly to the ground on 
 either side. So radiant was the picture, so handsome and 
 proud-looking the man on that magnificent, prancing horse, 
 that one could not think of anything else but a Spanish 
 Hidalgo of the Middle Ages. 
 
 This costume was a sort of advertisement, a refined and 
 conventional one, of course, that Jose Maria was the owner 
 of a costly hacienda. Those who guessed that this gala- 
 attire cost $500 were not mistaken. But our young gentle- 
 man did not display himself in this style often nowadays. 
 He had been to Paris. The consequence was that he had a 
 good-natured contempt for all things Mexican. He generally 
 took the air on the Paseo de la Reforwia, dressed in the latest 
 Parisian style. 
 
 He soon learned at what hours Don Francisco's carriage 
 was to be expected, and he was always not far from it. One 
 afternoon, as he galloped along a little way from the car- 
 riage, he had the good fortune to catch Magdalena's eye when 
 her mother was not looking. He lifted his hat and bowed, 
 and she returned the salutation. It was the slighest bow 
 imaginable, and then she did not look at him again, but 
 instead devoted herself with redoubled assiduity to the tiny 
 dog on her lap; but he was satisfied. He knew that she 
 would look again when he looked away, and when she 
 thought her mother would not detect her glances, and so 
 away he went on his prancing horse, now far before, now a 
 little behind, with the pleasant belief in his heart that among 
 all those elegantly dressed young ladies in all the carriages 
 who were in love with him, Magdalena was no exception. 
 After that he never failed to catch her eye when she was 
 driving, and bow to her. 
 
 In the Alameda, too, whither the elite of Mexico resort in 
 their most elegant attire on Sunday mornings, he never 
 failed to meet her as she, with her mother or with other 
 young ladies, "walked the other way." 
 
 Once he saw her and another girl sitting alone on a seat. 
 
THE GOD CUPID. 249 
 
 Presently the latter arose and went off a few steps. When 
 her back was turned Jose Maria, who had been watching for 
 such an opportunity, threw a tiny perfumed note to Magda- 
 lena's feet. She caught it up quickly, and concealed it before 
 her companion returned. She was very much fluttered and 
 a little frightened at her own boldness, but it was very sweet 
 and thrilling. When she was alone in her own room she opened 
 the letter and read it. It was a love letter than which none 
 more hyperbolical has ever been written, perhaps. She was. 
 his Angel, his Queen, his Rose, his Dove, his Star, etc., etc. 
 It was only the beginning of the letters with which he hon- 
 ored her. The chirography in all these letters was pretty as 
 a picture; several kinds would be displayed in the same let- 
 ter; sometimes it leaned to the right, sometimes to the left, 
 and sometimes it stood straight up. In the more advanced 
 stage of his feelings he bribed a chambermaid to convey 
 these letters to Magdalena; but that was after he had at last 
 called at the house and introduced himself to Dona Flavia as 
 her nephew, that he might have the privilege of calling often 
 on the family. 
 
 Then came the serenading under her window. And often 
 he came to her window when he did not serenade, but only 
 gave a low whistle which her attentive ears recognized. 
 Then she went out on the tiny balcony upstairs and talked 
 with him as he stood in the street below. A pretty picture 
 they made, he wrapped in a long, handsome black cloak, 
 looking up at her as she in the daintiest and softest of 
 dresses, and with a silken shawl thrown carelessly about her, 
 leaned over the balcony in the moonlight. So common is this 
 Romeo and Juliette method of courting that there are few 
 people who have spent any time in Mexico who have not seen 
 more than one such tableaux. 
 
 Dofia Flavia and Don Francisco watched Jose Maria closely 
 during the evenings which he spent in their parlor. There 
 were some reasons for which he would be to both of them an 
 acceptable son-in-law; among these, of course, were his 
 wealth and his aristocratic origin, for, as Dofia Flavia would 
 
250 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 have said, "He is one of our family, you know." But each 
 of them had some objections to him. 
 
 They suspected that the serenades were his, but of the in- 
 terchange of letters and the secret meetings they knew 
 nothing. They, like all other parents in Mexico, would have 
 said that such proceedings were "very ugly;" but if they 
 had come to their knowledge they would have taken no 
 extreme measures. Their own courting had doubtless been 
 done in much the same way. Such evasions of parental 
 authority were to be expected under the circumstances. 
 
 Mercedes had come to know of the conversations by moon- 
 light. She had discovered that much of the secret by chance. 
 Magdalena was glad she did know, as she threw no obstacle 
 in her way, for she had an aversion to concealment. 
 
 There was a strange contrast between the two girls in those 
 days. Magdalena was radiant in her new-found happiness, 
 looking forward to wedded bliss, with little or no more 
 thought of the destiny of her soul, than if she were a descend- 
 ant of those Preadamites who, they tell us, were in every 
 respect like other human beings except that they lacked the 
 immortal part. 
 
 Mercedes was sad, full of doubts and of gloomy apprehen- 
 sions of the future; desperately trying to find consolation in 
 the thought of ministering to others, for the terrible sacrifice 
 which that privilege was to cost her; wondering if, after all, 
 that course of conduct would secure her entrance into heaven; 
 spending her nights in prayer and penance, and by day drag- 
 ging her lacerated body about her ordinary duties. 
 
 Magdalena's prospects made her, too, think of marriage. 
 Might she not some time love some one, some one who loved 
 her. But for this feeling that she must sacrifice everything 
 to earn salvation it -might not be necessary to pass through 
 life lonely and unloved. And so it happened that Magdalena's 
 happiness caused her to pass through a new and in some 
 respects the fiercest struggle of all, before she could say in 
 her heart: "I will be a Sister of Charity." 
 
HOLY WEEK. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 HOLY WEEK 
 
 HOTL.Y WEEK came for the privileges of which all this 
 doing of penance and confessing of sins to the priests 
 was done. The only days that are observed are Friday and 
 Saturday. As the laws against religious demonstrations in 
 the open air are regarded to some extent by the public 
 officers in the capital, there were few processions in the 
 streets. Dona Flavia remarked to the Senor Bishop, who 
 had come to spend the week in the capital, that it was 
 melancholy to see how different it was from the way hi which 
 these days were observed in Salta; and he replied that there 
 was always more true religion in the small, out-of-the-way 
 towns than in the great centers of population. 
 
 But if the processions were forbidden in some of the streets 
 of the great city the days were observed with sufficient zeal 
 in other ways. 
 
 It was a trying week for Mercedes. To make it worse her 
 mind went back to the * 'Day of the Dead, " the 2nd of Novem- 
 ber, which they had observed in Mexico, having arrived only 
 two or three days before; and she lived over in her imagina- 
 tion all those scenes, so excruciating to a sensitive soul. 
 
 On that day they went to the Cathedral and knelt in the 
 great congregation and listened to the masses which were 
 being said for the repose of souls in purgatory. After they 
 left the Cathedral they went into the plaza where the toys 
 peculiar to thisjiesta were sold. Everybody was very merry. 
 "Here, Sefioras," cried a woman as they passed, "don't you 
 want to buy a little corpse for the children to play with?" 
 offering a coffin, the length of a hand, with a corpse that 
 would fly up when the coffin was pressed. There were tiny 
 hearses with their coffins and ghastly corpses in grave 
 
252 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO 
 
 clothes; there were skeletons for the children to play with; 
 there were skulls, and there was a facsimile of the image, of 
 the soul in purgatory which they had seen inside the Cathe- 
 dral on a contribution box, red flames, contortions and all 
 with the difference that this one was made of sugar and was 
 for the children to eat, while that was intended to secure 
 liberal contributions. Is it strange that the finer sentiments 
 of Roman Catholics should be blunted? 
 
 In the pantheons the graves were decorated with flowers, 
 and burning candles were placed on them. The central foun- 
 tain in the Alameda. was covered with flowers in the most 
 exquisite designs, and there the high society of the city, 
 after the ladies had visited the churches and the pantheons* 
 amused themselves as 'is their wont during fiestas. 
 
 Mercedes 1 soul took up on that day the cry of all the noble' 
 souls who have found themselves in that communion: "The 
 Church needs reforming. " And now she was to see again the 
 ceremonies of Holy Week in connection with the Savior's 
 death, with all their attendant levity. It was with the feel- 
 ing that her teeth were already on edge that she entered on 
 these days of religious observance. There was some comfort, 
 in it however: she was to partake of that mystery, the 
 eucharist; she was to take into her sinful mouth the real 
 body of the Lord, which was to "preserve her soul and body 
 unto everlasting life." If it occurred to her how many other 
 things she had done according to the prescription of the In- 
 fallible Church which were "to preserve her soul and body 
 unto everlasting life," she put away the thought as sinful. 
 It was right somehow. 
 
 No bells were rung; the people were called to church by the 
 sound of the matraca, an instrument of wood or metal which 
 makes a loud and disagreeable noise. The whole city re- 
 sounded with the matracas, for every toy, expensive or cheap, 
 that was sold on those days contained one of those instru- 
 ments. 
 
 The morning of Good Friday thousands of the common 
 people went to the Floating Gardens to see the bearing of 
 
HOLY WEEK. 253 
 
 the cross and the crucifixion. During a part of this perform- 
 ance Pilate and others of his court appeared on horseback. 
 The drunkenness, cursing, fighting and stealing were appall- 
 ing. The priests presided over this performance. 
 
 The bishop preached in the morning at the church, which 
 Dona Flavia and her family attended, on The Twelve Sta- 
 tions, that is the twelve pauses which the^ say that Christ 
 made as he bore his cross from the judgment hall to Gol- 
 gotha. In the afternoon, at three o'clock, he preached with 
 great fervency, owing to the liberal quantity of wine of 
 which he had partaken, on the seven expressions of the Lord 
 on the cross. At the end of the sermon, amid the moaning 
 of the organ, the wailing and shrieking, writhing and wring- 
 ing of hands of the kneeling multitude, the veil was drawn 
 from before the crucifix and the image was taken down and 
 borne to the glass case in which it was to rest till the feast of 
 Corpus Christi. By the side of the casket stood the Virgin 
 Mary, properly dressed in black, and with an embroidered 
 white handkerchief in her hand; and ever and anon she 
 stooped and looked at the .body. There were women in the 
 congregation who declared afterward that "for their part 
 they believed there was a hinge in the Virgin's back," that 
 is, they did not believe that that stooping was miraculous. 
 
 When the people tired of this bodily exercise they went out 
 into the plaza, and with the tears still on their cheeks, and 
 laughing and talking in hoarse voices of balls, theaters, bull- 
 fights and other such diversions, they bought candies and 
 diverted themselves as if they were at a picnic. 
 
 Dona Flavia, Magdalena and Mercedes wept and sobbed 
 and wrung their hands with the rest, but quietly, as refined 
 women will do, over the good bishop's sermon and the cruci- 
 fixion. 
 
 Then came Saturday, and the tragic end of Judas Iscariot. 
 In the afternoon the Judases were burned. They are made 
 in the shape of a man, but are as hideous as possible, often 
 having the head of one of the lower animals. Fuse is made 
 to run all over them. They are suspended on wires that are 
 
254 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 stretched across the streets. As it is not now considered a 
 religious ceremony it is permitted that this diversion should 
 take place in the open air. 
 
 Several of these Judases were suspended across San Fran- 
 cisco street. An immense crowd gathered near the first one; 
 they waited till it exploded and then rushed, with screams 
 and frenzied zeal, to trample on the pieces, to scramble for 
 the shoes or hat, which are often new. and are given by some 
 person with the benevolent purpose of making the scrambling 
 more violent. The pennies which were thrown by the people 
 in the balconies also added much to the confusion. 
 
 Jose Maria had invited his aunt and cousins to witness this 
 spectacle from one of the balconies of the Iturbide Hotel. 
 
 On the wires which had been extended from this hotel to 
 the opposite building was a large Judas on horseback. 
 When the sweating, howling mob of common people arrived 
 at this one the fuse was lighted. Horse and rider contracted 
 every limb as if hi horrible agony; they writhed, sank, rose, 
 burst, and fell; and then the mob in their rage against the 
 betrayer of the Lord rushed to trample on the pieces. Jose 
 Maria, Magdalena and the children scattered pennies on the 
 heads below. 
 
 "That is dreadful," said Dona Flavia to Mercedes, "I <am 
 afraid some one will be crushed to death in that crowd." 
 
 But Mercedes did not hear. She was standing at the cor- 
 ner of the balcony looking down on the crowd. At that 
 moment she had caught sight of a young gentleman who was 
 standing near the wall, a little apart from the others, as if 
 he had just stepped out from the door of the hotel. She 
 should not have noticed him but for the fact that he was 
 looking at her, had been looking at her, it seemed, all the 
 time she had been watching the wild scene below. There 
 was a look of hopeless devotion, of reverence, in his face 
 which astonished and startled her, and she turned quickly 
 away. Where had she seen that face? She tried to recall it 
 among the faces of all her acquaintances. It wag only after 
 days of haunting thought that she remembered it as the 
 
HOLY WEEK. 255 
 
 face of the young gentleman who had picked up her hand- 
 kerchief on Christmas evening, and dimly connected it with 
 that of the young man who had looked at her so strangely hi 
 the art gallery. 
 
 As I have said Mercedes was comforted in the midst of all 
 the shocking scenes of this week by the thought that she was 
 to receive the eucharist. It was with much awe that she 
 arose from her place in the kneeling congregation, and, 
 advancing to the railing of the altar, knelt and put out her 
 tongue to receive on it the tiny wafer from the priest's con- 
 secrated hand; for his voice was exhorting her to believe that 
 this was not only the true body of Christ, and all that per- 
 tained to the undivided integrity of the body, such as bones, 
 nerves and blood, but also that all of Christ was in this sac- 
 rament, the divine and human natures, and all that pertained 
 to both of these natures. And not only that all of this was in 
 the consecrated bread and wine, but that all of it was in each 
 particle of it, so that in that tiny bit of bread on her tongue 
 were contained all the things that have been enumerated. 
 And, furthermore, that notwithstanding the testimony of 
 taste, sight and smell, there was nothing left of the nature 
 of bread in it. 
 
 And besides all this he assured her that her soul was to be 
 comforted, and was to grow with this divine food, that 
 through it all slight past sins were to be pardoned; she was 
 to be preserved from committing future skis, and that it was 
 to open to her the doors of eternal glory. 1 
 
 She swallowed the wafer, making a desperate effort to be- 
 lieve all that she had heard, as she arose and moved away 
 from the altar. But in the depths of her soul she knew that 
 this communion had no more conferred on her a title to 
 heaven than had her baptism, or her confirmation, or the 
 thousand indulgences that she had purchased in one way or 
 another. 
 
 "One thing after another turns to bitter ashes in my 
 mouth," she said sadly. "It must be because I lack faith." 
 
 l Note. These declarations about the eucharist are from the Decrees 
 of the Council of Trent, the highest authority among Roman Catholics. 
 
256 MERCEDES,' A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Dona Flavia and the bishop were naturally delighted that 
 Mercedes was to become a Sister of Charity. The latter re- 
 peated to her much of Cardinal Gibbon's eloquent description 
 of the life of a Sister of Charity, and Mercedes was more im- 
 patient than ever to enter on so heroic a life. 
 
 "It is a great pity that there are no convents in Mexico 
 now as there used to be," observed the Senor Bishop one day 
 as he and his hostess discussed this subject in the presence 
 of Mercedes. "But, as it is, she will have to go to another 
 country to take the veil. I think it would be best for her to 
 go to the United States. " 
 
 "I I thought," stammered Mercedes, surprised and con- 
 fused, ' 'that our legislators considered it best for the country 
 somehow that there should be no convents here, and that it 
 was for that reason they were abolished." 
 
 Dark clouds had gathered on the brows of the Senor Bishop 
 and his religious hostess. So insulting is it to mention the 
 law to zealous Catholics! 
 
 "They are not permitted by the impious laws of the land," 
 replied the Senor Bishop. And then he added, as if to him- 
 self: "If we could only have them in spite of the laws!" 
 
 "But is it not wrong to disobey the laws of one's country?" 
 asked Mercedes, betrayed by her astonishment into still 
 greater boldness of speech. 
 
 Darker grew the clouds on the faces before her; the 
 bishop's eyes flashed lightning, and Mercedes thought Dona 
 Flavia was going to order her to leave the room. "I dare 
 her to do it!" she exclaimed mentally, though she did not add 
 the penalty which would accompany such a breach of respect 
 for herself. "She is a lady I have no great liking for any- 
 how and the bishop I don't even know about him now. " 
 
 But they composed themselves, and the bishop, after mut- 
 tering something angrily between his teeth, went on discuss- 
 ing the subject of where she was to go without taking fur- 
 ther notice of her question. 
 
 After that incident Mercedes fell into the habit of watching 
 the Senor Bishop very closely. There were still other things 
 
HOLY WEEK. 257 
 
 in the conduct of this worthy representative of the Church 
 that greatly puzzled and troubled her. Instead of devoting 
 her nights to penance and prayer she spent them in the con- 
 sideration of these new doubts, which were yet only the 
 revival of old doubts. 
 
 The elegant, the good Senor Bishop had so little respect 
 for the laws, of the land in which he lived that it was an in- 
 sult to mention them to him. He had told a falsehood one 
 day in her presence and evidently without the least scruples 
 of conscience. There was no doubt that Dona Flavia had 
 been prompted by his remarks on Masonry and his counsels 
 to have recourse to the "black saint" for the removal of her 
 husband; and last, but certainly not least, she had more than 
 once known of his being more than half intoxicated. 
 
 Now she would be guilty of none of these things herself. 
 Could she confess to such a man and receive absolution from 
 his hands? Could she take for her spiritual guide a person 
 who was worse than she was? 
 
 But worst of it all was that he was considered by all one of 
 the best of his class; then what kind of men were the rest? 
 
 Dofia Flavia had sometimes said to her that when she be- 
 came a nun one of her principal occupations and pleasures 
 would be to confess. That had surprised her, for she had 
 thought that her principal occupation would be to minister to 
 the distressed. She turned with horror from the thought of 
 confessing to such priests. 
 
 Maximiliana had said to her one day, quietly, sadly, like, 
 one who utters words with no hope of their making an im- 
 pression, "Mercedes, child, you don't know where you are 
 drifting." 
 
 She had turned toward her friend a ghastly face with a 
 momentary realization of her danger and exclaimed: "Maxi- 
 miliana, am I standing on the brink of a precipice?" 
 
 ' 4 Yes, that is just where you are standing. May God draw 
 you back." 
 
 And so it was that through the lonely nights her discon 
 nee ted thoughts went all tending toward one resolution: She 
 17 
 
258 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 would never again confess; therefore she could never be a. 
 nun a Sister of Charity. 
 
 The day came when she announced her change of mind to 
 Dona Flavia and the bishop, braving their wrath and the 
 prospect of being sent from the house. She gave them few 
 reasons; but one of them was sufficient: She thought she 
 4 'could be a better woman by not being a Sister of Charity. " 
 
 After she left the room and they had discussed the ques- 
 tion at length, they decided that there might be hope for the 
 girl yet; they would have patience with her. 
 
 That very afternoon Mercedes went to Maximiliana's house, 
 and went hi and fell down on her knees by her side, and clung 
 to her, as great sobs tore themselves out of her throat. "O! 
 Maximiliana, I will never, never be a Sister of Charity. I 
 have been so blinded," she said. 
 
 Maximiliana put her arms closely about her and cried with 
 her. And presently Tomas came in and heard the story and 
 rejoiced with them. 
 
 "O! I feel free as a bird! It was dreadful, dreadful to think 
 of 3uch a life anyhow; and now I feel as if I had been 
 snatched back from the brink of a terrible abyss." 
 
 ' 'The more you examine them the more you will be con- 
 vinced that the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church are 
 false and degrading," said Tomas, kindly. 
 
 "I believe it I begin to believe it," replied Mercedes. 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 
 
 |NE day Teodoro Martinez, descending one of the hand- 
 some stairways of the Palacio Municipal, saw the tall, 
 slender figure, and thin, kindly face of the Director of the 
 college coming up. They embraced, and then the Director 
 said: 
 
 * 'I was coining up to talk with you a few minutes, Teodoro. 
 If you are going out we can talk as well in the street as here, 
 and better." 
 
 When they were in the street he turned a radiant face to 
 the young man, and rubbing his hands with pleasure, said: 
 
 "I have a magnificent chance for you, my son. I could 
 scarcely wait till after school hours to tell you of it." 
 
 "You are very kind, Sir. What is it?" replied Teodoro. 
 trying to arouse himself to interest and gratitude. He had 
 had a feeling all these last weeks that it made little differ- 
 ence what became of him; he could not save his family; he 
 could not win the girl he loved. 
 
 ' 'I received a letter this morning from a friend of mine in 
 one of the northern States, asking me to furnish him a com- 
 petent teacher for the school hi his place. The patronage 
 will be good, he says, and the salary is good. Now what 
 better could a young man of your abilities and tastes desire? 
 You might even in time become superintendent of public in- 
 struction for the State." And the kind-hearted Director 
 rubbed his hands vigorously hi his delight. 
 
 ' 'I should have should have to leave the city, and not re- 
 turn for months, for years, perhaps," stammered Teodoro. 
 scarcely knowing what he was saying, but feeling the neces- 
 sity of speaking. 
 
 "Yes, my son," said the Director, looking at him curiously, 
 
260 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "but why should you mind that? It is not so interesting a 
 place, not so large, nor so handsome a place, of course, but 
 
 "O, it is not that, Sir," said Teodoro, interrupting him 
 hastily. "It's nothing, only there are people here whom it 
 would be hard to leave; that is all. I will go, of course. I 
 am very grateful to you." And he hoped the Director would 
 think it was himself and some of his schoolfellows whom it 
 was hard to leave. 
 
 "Teodoro," said the teacher gently, laying his hand on the 
 young man's arm, "it is natural for you to feel some regret 
 at leaving your parents .and the others. But it is better to 
 do so. For that very reason I have rejoiced the more that 
 this opportunity is offered you in a distant town. I know of 
 your efforts to save them, my boy. It is noble of you, and I 
 .am glad that you have it in your heart to do it. But it's of 
 no use; you can't do anything with them. It is better for 
 you to leave them and make a man of yourself." 
 
 "I know that, Sir. I was not thinking of them. I have 
 done all I can for them, at present, at least. I've tried for 
 years, but I've had to give them up at last. I I was think- 
 ing of some one else; but it's no matter. It's a mere fancy, 
 and there is no hope in it. You won't say anything about it, 
 please," said Teodoro, not supposing that many other young 
 men of twenty-one guarded a tremendous secret of unre- 
 quited love. 
 
 "I appreciate your speaking of it to me, my son. But if 
 there is no hope in it it is best to go away. " But the sensible 
 philosophy of age was chilling, as it always is, to young 
 hearts. 
 
 "When shall I go?" asked Teodoro very quietly. 
 
 1 'I think it would be well to go as soon as possible to look 
 after the school; say the first of next week." 
 
 "Very well, Sir; I shall make my arrangements accord- 
 ingly. I cannot express my gratitude to you for your kind- 
 ness. It is just like you. I owe everything to you," he said 
 in a choking voice. 
 
 "Tush, my boy. It isn't worth mentioning. But I am very 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 261 
 
 proud of you. You have made a man of yourself, notwith- 
 standing the obstacles. < By the way, the Sefiora Directora 
 told me to ask you to dine with us to-morrow, and we shall 
 expect you to stay for the little musical entertainment after- 
 ward. You will come?" 
 
 "Yes, Senor; many thanks." 
 
 "Well, adios." 
 
 "Adios, Senor. Salutations for the Sefiora." 
 
 And the Director went on his way, smiling, but with pity 
 in his heart, as he thought: 
 
 ' 'Poor boy ! He feels like it is all over with him. It hurts 
 while it lasts, of course, but he'll get over it, and all the 
 sooner for being in a new place. We all have to have these 
 ups and downs. How many Dulcineas had I been broken 
 hearted over before I met Julia. But after I met her I was 
 glad I couldn't win the others. He'll get over it." 
 
 Teodoro went home and left his supper untasted, and sat, 
 with his elbows on the table and his head on his hands, so 
 long that the good woman who prepared his meals was dis- 
 tressed with the thought that "the Senor" must be sick. 
 
 After awhile he put on his hat and went out. He would go 
 and look at her window for the last time. He had indulged 
 himself in that way several times hi these weeks. Twice he 
 had stood out there in the rain, with a borrowed umbrella 
 over him, looking at Dona Flavia's window. He had said to 
 himself every time that it would be more sensible to be at 
 home studying; but no doubt there have been times in the 
 lives of the wisest men when, under the influence of such 
 feelings as Teodoro's, they have failed to obey the dictates 
 of common sense. 
 
 It was all over now, he knew; he should never be happy 
 any more. He had never had any hope of happiness from it, 
 of course, he had only been indulging in foolish daydreams, 
 and even they would have been insulting to the young lady. 
 
 Realizing this he need not have taken 'such a terrible 
 heartache over a communication which Hernandez had made 
 to him a few days before. He had met his good-natured, 
 
262 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "democratic" classmate in the Plaza de Armas, and had, at 
 his invitation, "given a turn" with him, listening to the music 
 of a band. After some conversation about indifferent matters 
 Felipe had said: 
 
 "Have you seen Ortega since he came back?" 
 
 "No, I thought he was studying at some university in 
 France." 
 
 "He study! Not much of it. He completed the course 
 over there very soon. He was in a university a few months, 
 and to hear him tell it he did wonders, and astonished all the 
 professors by his attainments. But he spent the rest of the 
 time traveling or amusing himself in Paris. It is really edi- 
 fying to hear him express his contempt for everything in 
 Mexico, now, and contrast it with Paris." 
 
 "What is he going to do now? Devote himself to politics? 
 or look after that hacienda of his that he used to ,tell us 
 about? I don't suppose, though, he would do that." 
 
 "No. I don't know what he will do. Nothing, I suppose; 
 he is rich enough to live without work. He is in love now; 
 of course, nothing is to be expected of him till he gets over 
 that. It is all arranged, he says. He will have a good deal 
 more property after he gets her, for her father, Don Fran- 
 cisco Urbina, is rich." 
 
 Teodoro started, but Felipe had turned away to light a 
 cigarette, and did not notice it. 
 
 "Which one of Sefior Urbina' s daughters is he going to 
 marry?" 
 
 "The eldest one. Quite a fine girl she is; worth the win- 
 ning if she were not so rich. I have seen her a few times at 
 balls and such places. Jose Maria always was a lucky fellow. " 
 
 This communication had added new gloom to Teodoro's 
 reflections. It was a bitter thought to him that the enemy of 
 his school days, who had often stabbed him in cold blood, 
 stooping over him, as it seemed to him, with his handsome, 
 smiling face, to 1 turn the knife in his heart it was a very 
 bitter thought that this enemy should win the girl he loved. 
 "He is not half good enough for her. How could she like 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 263 
 
 Mm!" he exclaimed. "But she doesn't know him. Ten to 
 one she will be miserable with him when she gets acquainted 
 with him. But it will be too late then. " 
 
 As he went along thinking thus with himself he had ap- 
 proached quite near to the house of the lady of his thoughts. 
 Looking at the casket which held that jewel he had not 
 noticed that some one was approaching him. It was Jose 
 Maria Ortega. They met in the white radiance of an electric 
 light. 
 
 "Ah! Good evening, Martinez," he said, without offering 
 his hand. From what he had heard from Hernandez he 
 thought there was danger of this fellow's becoming presump- 
 tuous. Somebody must check him. Such duties devolved 
 on men of Jose Maria's position; and he believed he could 
 perform such public services more gracefully and more 
 efficiently than most men; it was a duty, moreover, from 
 which he never shrank. He was a little surprised, too, to see 
 him there gazing at that house. 
 
 "Good evening, Ortega," replied Teodoro. 
 
 "Pine night, isn't it? for lovers especially. Have you set 
 your heart on some pretty chambermaid over there that you 
 come out to watch the house?" and he looked at Teodoro with 
 the same expression on his face with which he used to insult 
 him at schbol. Teodoro involuntarily clinched his fist and 
 half raised it. He longed to strike him a blow in the face and 
 leave him lying full length in the mud of the street. But 
 there was no danger of his actually striking; there was 
 nothing of the brute in him. He dropped his hand, and look- 
 ing full into the face before him, with his own white with 
 rage and scorn, exclaimed: 
 
 "Jose Maria Ortega, I hope I may never see your face 
 again while I live!" 
 
 The young gentleman addressed, bowing and smiling as he 
 tossed the cape of his cloak over his shoulder so that the 
 crimson plush lining set off his complexion, replied care- 
 lessly : 
 
 "Adios, then, and my regards to the Sefiora, mother of 
 
264 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 your Worship, " and crossed the street to the gate, which was 
 quickly opened by some one inside, and then shut behind 
 him. Teodoro went back to his room and sat, with his 
 elbows on the table and his head on his hands, far into the 
 night. 
 
 A half an hour before this encounter in the street took 
 place, Magdalena had entered Mercedes' room, dressed as if 
 for a party. 
 
 * 'Mercedes, " she said in a happy whisper, and with a look 
 of great mystery, as she knelt beside her, "I have something 
 to tell you, but you must keep it from mama, will you?" 
 
 "I don't know, Magdalena. I'm afraid it isn't right to be 
 keeping things from your mama this way." 
 
 "O, Mercedes, it's not wrong. I've no doubt mama did just 
 the same way when she was in love with papa. She just says 
 it's ugly now because she thinks it is prudent to say that be- 
 fore us girls. " 
 
 "What is it you are going to tell me, Magdalena?" asked 
 Mercedes anxiously. 
 
 4 'I promised Jose Maria to meet him in the garden to-night, 
 under the vine, just outside the dining room door. The serv- 
 ants are gone, so they won't hear us talk. But I wanted 
 some one to know about it; I can't bear to keep things. And 
 you are another girl; you can understand how I feel about 
 it," she added pleadingly. 
 
 "Magdalena, you are sweet and good," replied Mercedes, 
 putting her arms around her, "but you ought not to meet him 
 secretly. You and he can talk in the balls." 
 
 "O, the balls!" said Magdalena. "We are never alone for 
 one instant in the balls. He asked me to meet him in the 
 garden, and I promised, Mercedes. How can I disappoint 
 him! You wouldn't if you were in my place!" and Magdalena 
 put her arms around Mercedes' neck and dropped her head 
 on her shoulder with something very like a sob. 
 
 "Magdalena," said Mercedes at last, "if you will stay with 
 him just a half hour 
 
 "O, Mercedes, such a short time! Just think of it! I'll stay 
 just an hour." 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 265 
 
 "But it isn't right, Magdalena. Now promise me, just a 
 half hour; then I'll make a noise at the window, and you can 
 come in. And then I won't say anything about it. But don't 
 promise to meet him in the garden any more; please don't, 
 Magdalena. " 
 
 "O, well, I promise not to stay but a half hour. But it is 
 cruel of you not to let me have more time;" and she tripped 
 out of the room to listen for the low whistle which was to 
 summon her to the side of her lover. 
 
 Mercedes listened, too, and after she heard it she timed 
 them by the little school clock. At the end of the time she 
 slipped out and along a corridor till she came to a window 
 which was just above their heads; then she thumped loudly on 
 the glass. But when she went to the window fifteen minutes 
 later, there in the shadow of the vines in the checkered moon- 
 light, still stood the tall dark figure, and the slender grace- 
 ful one in the light dress and the snowy opera cloak. She 
 knocked again on the window and watched till she saw Mag- 
 dalena start away from him, while he held her hands and 
 kissed them two or three times. 
 
 When she knocked the first time Jose Maria was saying to 
 her, gayly: 
 
 "I had a little adventure in the street awhile ago. I met a 
 fellow out there in front of the house who used to be in the 
 same school with me. He was a curiosity; he was always 
 dressed so shabbily. In fact he was one of the Indians whom 
 you see in the streets carrying burdens on their backs. His 
 mother! she was one of the most ridiculous looking creatures 
 you ever saw. She used to sell vegetables near the college, 
 and he actually carried them out there to the street for her 
 as he came to school,'' and Jose Maria paused to laugh at the 
 recollection. 
 
 Magdalena laughed, too, just because Jose Maria did, but 
 she said in a puzzled and timid way: "But wasn't it good of 
 him to carry them for his mother? She was his mother, you 
 know, no matter how she looked. " 
 
 "O, yes, he was no better than she was, of course; but you 
 
266 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ought to have seen what a grotesque-looking couple they 
 were! But the Director was a cranky old fellow, and he some- 
 how carried that beggar clear through the course of the col- 
 lege. And now that he has a sort of education and wears 
 good clothes his presumption is intolerable. He was really 
 insulting to me awhile ago. " 
 
 "How was it?" asked Magdalena in an indignant tone. 
 
 "He was staring at the windows of this house, and I asked 
 him if he was thinking of some one of the servant girls here, 
 and he actually clinched his fist as if he wanted to strike me, 
 and said he hoped he might never see my face again. Think 
 what impudence!" 
 
 "It was very ugly of him to talk so," replied the gentle 
 Magdalena. "What is his name?" 
 
 "Teodoro Martinez. I've seen somebody hanging around 
 the street several nights, looking up at the windows, and 
 since I think of it I know it was he. I wonder what he can 
 be after?" and there the subject dropped. 
 
 After he was gone Magdalena again entered Mercedes' 
 room, flushed wfch happiness. 
 
 "How could you make me come up so soon?" she said, 
 gayly. ' 'I would have come when you tapped the first time, 
 but Jose Maria was telling'me something," and she repeated 
 the story to Mercedes. 
 
 "I've been thinking of the name ever since," she went on 
 at the conclusion of the narrative. "Do you remember a 
 young man who came here to see papa Christmas evening, 
 and stayed a good while looking at the games, and picked up 
 your handkerchief? Well, his name was Teodoro Martinez. 
 I remember it distinctly; I asked papa after he left; and he 
 said that Don Eduardo Recio had recommended him to him 
 for a secretary. And Don Eduardo was Jose Maria's teacher 
 here; I have heard him mention him often. So I know that 
 the young man who was ugly to Jose Maria in the street was 
 that very one. I am glad papa didn't employ him. Well, 
 good night. I must go now and try to recall everything Jose 
 Maria said to me." 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 267 
 
 After she was gone Mercedes sat a long time in her low 
 chair, with her elbows on her knees and her head on her hands, 
 thinking of what Magdalena had told her. It was a revela- 
 tion to her. Even if she had never heard again of the young 
 man whom she had seen in the gallery she should sometimes 
 have thought of him, recollecting that look of soul recogni- 
 tion, and should have wondered vaguely where he was and 
 hoped it was well with him; but remembering the expression 
 on his face when she saw him from the balcony on Saturday 
 of Holy Week, she could not doubt that it was on her account 
 lie haunted the street and watched the house. Whatever 
 ideas he had of her he had gotten them at the gallery. She 
 tried to recall every word. 
 
 "It must have been because the tears came into my eyes 
 when that gentleman said that beautiful thing about the 
 artist, Sefior Ramon Sagredo. I understand, now. The young 
 man has been very poor, and he is now, I suppose, and he 
 thinks I have sympathy for the poor. Well, I have reason to 
 have. But how lonely and destitute of sympathy his life 
 must be that he should care for that little expression from a 
 common, ignorant girl! He must be noble and good to be so 
 kind to his mother. I dare say Jose Maria was insulting to 
 him. He is rich and proud and doesn't know how to treat 
 poor people. Teodoro Martinez he has a good face; I re- 
 member it well. It is all very curious!" And from that night 
 that face was remembered with more distinctness and with 
 the tender, pitiful thoughts that each of us has of those whom 
 he knows are lonely and in need of sympathy, and especially 
 of those who, he knows, care for his sympathy. 
 
 But she had other and more important things to think of. 
 It is not to be supposed that because she had realized that 
 she could never again confess, and therefore could never be 
 a nun, that she turned against all of Roman Catholicism at 
 once. Her's was a slower and surer nature. 
 
 But the scales had fallen from her eyes, and as the weeks 
 passed she studied the Catholic religion in a new light, with 
 the help of Tomas and Maximiliana, whom she occasionally 
 
268 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 visited. Often she slipped books into her room, and keeping- 
 them hid during the day, read at night the passages which 
 Tomas had marked for her perusal. They were generally 
 histories, and the marked passages showed the influence of 
 Roman Catholicism on the nations. Especially did she learn 
 of its degrading influence in Mexico. 
 
 She did not study it in the light of the Bible. They had 
 none to lend her; they scarcely thought, if at all, of the Word 
 of God in connection with it. They offered her no religion 
 in the place of the one they were taking from her. Unlike 
 her they did not feel the necessity of a religion. But in their 
 own way they helped her not a little, toward the attainment 
 of freedom. 
 
 Nevertheless, she decided the question for herself. Night 
 after night she sat, with her hands clasped so tightly that the 
 blood stopped in the finger tips, and the perspiration stood 
 on her girlish forehead, as she tried to settle that to her 
 so difficult question: "Is the Roman Catholic religion the 
 true religion?" 
 
 There went on in her mind a fierce dialogue of insinuating* 
 questions and defiant answers: 
 
 "I would rather have no religion than a false one. If the 
 Creator should give a religion to his creatures it would be 
 one that would make them better and happier. We believe 
 that instinctively. We can not separate the idea of benevo- 
 lence from the Creator. But how do we know that our in- 
 stinctive beliefs are correct? We receive them directly from 
 the Creator; if they are wrong it is not our fault. But, after 
 all, how do we know that there is a Creator, or even that we 
 exist? How can we be certain of anything?" 
 
 With a terrible struggle she would fight back this sugges- 
 tion, and her spirit would grasp again its belief that there 
 was a God. And always, inevitably, she went back to the 
 consideration of that fact that has been fatal to the Romish 
 Church in the minds of so many other people, of most Mexi- 
 can men of education, of some Mexican women even that 
 the religion that the Creator would give would make people 
 
A LAST LOOK AT HER WINDOW. 269 
 
 better and happier; the Roman Catholic religion had not done 
 that; therefore it was not the true religion. 
 
 That settled the question in Mercedes' mind at last. The 
 day came when she said to them, speaking from her heart, 
 "I give it all up. I am no Roman Catholic." 
 
 That same day, with a terribly desolate feeling in her soul, 
 she knelt by her bed, and stretching out her arms across it, 
 dropped her head between them and repeated the "Our 
 Father, which art in heaven." But the heavens were like 
 brass above her; she knew the prayer was riot heard; she 
 knew, as she arose from her knees, that there was some 
 preparation of soul needed before she could approach the 
 great King; but she did not know what that preparation was, 
 and she had no hope of being able to make it. There was 
 even, away down in her heart, unacknowledged by herself, 
 an unwillingness to make that preparation. 
 
270 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE TWO MARRIAGES. 
 
 IT was arranged that Jose Maria's and Magdalena's mar- 
 riage should take place soon after their return home. 
 
 As I have intimated there were reasons why both Don 
 Francisco and Dona Flavia objected to Jose Maria as a son- 
 in-law. The latter objected because he was a* Mason. He 
 had joined that fraternity, not because of any appreciation of 
 the liberal principles which they inculcated, but because, as 
 the president of the republic and other prominent men were 
 Masons, it was popular to be a Mason. When he found that 
 it stood in the way of his marriage he withdrew from them, 
 with the distinct understanding in his own mind that he would 
 return to them as soon as his marriage was consummated. I 
 have heard, however, that the Masons were so unreasonable 
 and obstinate as to refuse to receive him again. 
 
 Don Francisco objected to him because he was a member of 
 the Clerical party, or as it is sometimes called, the Conserva- 
 tive party. But he managed to quiet his uncle's scruples as 
 to his politics by intimating that he thought very favorably 
 indeed of the Liberal party; that, in fact, it was very prob- 
 able that he would cast his vast influence on that side as soon 
 as he should have studied their principles a little more. 
 
 Mercedes, too, had reasons of her own for having some- 
 humble scruples about the approaching marriage. 
 
 She had a high opinion of Jose Maria. It is not to be sup-; 
 posed that she was acquainted with several of the character- 
 istics to which, as a historian, I ha\je called the attention of ' 
 the reader, such as conceit, insincerity, and an overbearing 
 disposition. In fact it is rather appalling to the historian 
 himself to see the cold, hard words written; just as it would 
 be disagreeably startling to hear various characteristics of 
 
THE TWO MARRIAGES. 271 
 
 his own or of his intimate friends expressed by their most 
 concise names. It would be unjust, too, would it not? for, 
 along with the unpleasant qualities are often found good ones 
 which go far toward counterbalancing them. Jose Maria 
 was benevolent in his careless, high-bred way; and it even 
 sometimes happened that he gave to the poor without any 
 thought of the connection between such acts and his own 
 salvation. He was condescending with inferiors; and, not- 
 withstanding his aristocratic ideas, he had always been very 
 pleasant with Mercedes in the parlor, treating her as if she 
 were of the same rank as Magdalena. If there was now and 
 then in his manner a slight recognition of his own superiority 
 it was passed over by all as a matter of course, a thing in- 
 evitable in one who ivas so superior as Jose Maria. 
 
 In the evenings in the parlor Mercedes had quite as much 
 conversation with him as Magdalena; and when he told of 
 his travels in Europe, of the cathedrals, art galleries, palaces, 
 ruined castles and the like, she was a far more interested and 
 appreciative listener. Though his health had never been in 
 danger from overstudy he had read a good deal, in an idle 
 way, which he considered becoming to a young gentleman 
 who had nothing to do but amuse himself. He liked to talk 
 about what he read, too. 
 
 But Magdalena read nothing, not even the mass book. In- 
 deed, her mother sometimes remarked, with a sigh, that she 
 feared she did not even know what the holy mass meant. 
 She could only sit by in pretty silence and admire Jose Maria 
 as he held forth on his favorite topics. It was not strange, 
 under these circumstances, that he should fall into the habit 
 of directing most of his conversation to Mercedes. It made 
 her uneasy, and she sometimes attempted to avoid joining 
 the circle about Jose Maria on account of it; but Magdalena 
 quieted her fears by saying often, as they went to their rooms 
 for the night, slipping her hands, in a pretty, enthusiastic 
 way, over Mercedes' arm, and looking at her with her great, 
 innocent, happy eyes: 
 
 "O, isn't he just splendid, Mercedes? He is so intelligent! 
 
272 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 and I know you enjoy hearing him talk. And, O, he is so 
 handsome, now isn't he?" 
 
 And Mercedes always replied, "Yes, he is quite handsome," 
 but she thought to herself, in her girlish, somewhat tropical 
 enthusiasm for a being who was superior in her mind to any 
 one else she knew: "He is beautiful as Apollo!" 
 
 "I think," she would add sometimes, standing a little way 
 from Magdalena, that she might admire her beauty, "that he 
 looks better when he sings with you, just you two together 
 at the piano, than at any other time. It would make a beauti- 
 ful picture. You certainly do suit each other." And she 
 was sincere in it. She was jealous for Magdalena if Jose 
 Maria's glances wandered away from her, even to herself, for 
 to her Magdalena seemed the most lovable of girls. 
 
 One evening the conversation turned on Les Miserables. 
 Don Francisco, who happened to be passing to the other end 
 of the parlor, paused a moment behind Magdalena's chair to 
 remark: 
 
 ' 'I was in Paris the day Victor Hugo was buried. I was in 
 that immense procession that followed him to the pantheon. " 
 
 "Les Miserables is a very fine book/' observed Dona Flavia, 
 when Don Francisco had turned away. "I have read it; it is 
 the story of the good bishop. " 
 
 A look of amusement gleamed for an instant in Jose Maria's 
 eyes, as they quickly sought Mercedes', and involuntarily 
 the twinkle of enjoyment was reflected in her^s; then she 
 lowered them in shame and self-reproach. She knew that 
 Jose Maria was thinking, just as she was, that Dona Flavia 
 had read no more of the book than the part in which the 
 * 'good bishop" figures. Fortunately neither Dona Flavia nor 
 Magdalena had seen the interchange of glances. After that 
 she did penance for a week by refusing to go into the parlor 
 in the evenings. 
 
 Jose Maria felt that evening more distinctly than ever be- 
 fore that Mercedes could "appreciate" him more fully than 
 Magdalena. But what aggrieved him most was that she did 
 not show so much disposition as he thought the subject de- 
 
THE TWO MARRIAGES. 273 
 
 manded, to fall down and worship him; she enjoyed his 
 stories and liked him as Magdalena's lover; that was all. 
 But that was far from being satisfactory to a young gentle- 
 man who saw no reason in the fact that he was engaged to 
 one girl and expected to marry her why he should not love 
 another and talk love to her, too, if he had an opportunity. 
 
 Just before they left the city Mercedes and the younger 
 children spent a week with a sister of Don Francisco's, in one 
 of the most elegant homes in that suburb of splendid homes, 
 Tacubaya, while Don Francisco, Dona Flavia and Magdalena 
 visited Puebla, Cordova, and other cities. 
 
 One evening, near twilight, she was wandering alone 
 through the spacious grounds in the midst of which the house 
 stood, admiring the gleaming of white statues and the flashing 
 of fountains among the dark green foliage. The twittering of 
 birds in the trees, the falling of water in the fountains, the 
 scent of orange blossoms, and the faint light of the dying 
 day, all contributed to make it a perfect evening. 
 
 Presently she saw coming up the broad carriage drive a 
 tall, dark figure. It turned aside into the winding path and 
 came toward her; it was Jose Maria. She was very much 
 surprised to see him, for he knew that Magdalena was not 
 there. "But, perhaps," she thought, "he has not heard from 
 them, and he has come to hear through me. But he ought to 
 have gone on to the house. If I go up to the house with him 
 they will, wonder how long we have been talking in the 
 grounds, and I certainly can't stand here and talk with him. 
 But, perhaps, he will only tell me good evening and then go 
 on alone to the house." 
 
 She went to meet him, and in spite of her perplexity there 
 was a welcome in her bright young face, for she said at the 
 last moment: "He is only so eager to hear from Magdalena. 
 He will go on in a moment. " 
 
 But he did not go on. He held her hand and looked into 
 her uplifted face, and when she attempted to withdraw her 
 hand he held it more closely and said: 
 
 "Are you glad to see me, Mercedes? You have no idea 
 18 
 
274 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 how lonely I have been since you came out here. I hoped to 
 find you in the grounds, " and his handsome face approached 
 very near hers in the twilight. 
 
 She snatched away her hand and started away from him, 
 stammering: 
 
 ' 'I I thought you came to hear from Magdalena. I I am 
 going to the house. " 
 
 "No, Mercedes, don't go. Stay and talk with me a little 
 while. We shall be separated soon and not see each other 
 any more; and you know I love to talk to you better than to 
 any one else. " 
 
 "You are engaged to Magdalena and you ought not to 
 want to talk to any one else; it is treason to her," and she 
 fled from him, among the trees and shrubs, to the house. 
 
 Fluttering like a bircl escaped from the fowler she sought 
 her room. "I never thought of its coming to this," she said 
 to herself as she dropped into a chair. "I never thought of 
 his being faithless to Magdalena. But he does mean to 
 marry her; he said we should be separated. And yet he as 
 good as said he loved me best. But if he thinks he can make 
 love to me while he intends to marry some one else he is mis- 
 taken," she added proudly. 
 
 But as the days went by she forgave him and pitied him; 
 and she pitied Magdalena not less than him. Would it not 
 be better for Jose Maria to break his engagement than to 
 marry Magdalena under such circumstances? Sometimes, 
 too, there arose before her dazzled vision the life she might 
 live with him, and she contrasted it with the life of poverty 
 and hardship that probably lay before her. But she had a 
 wretched feeling that every thought of Jose Maria was un- 
 faithfulness to Magdalena. She carefully avoided seeing 
 him during the remaining days that they passed in Tacubaya, 
 after the family returned. 
 
 They came home in June, leaving the beautiful Valley of 
 Anahuac in all the luxuriance of a tropical summer. It was 
 happiness for them to be at home, to go through the familiar 
 
THE TWO MARRIAGES. 275 
 
 rooms, feeling again the tender associations; to see the faces 
 of friends and hear their words of welcome. 
 
 "Come, let's see the bath," cried Magdalena, seizing Mer- 
 cedes' hand; and they ran together to the old bath which the 
 Marquis constructed in the orchard. A swift, deep current 
 of crystal water ran through it. It was so swift that it would 
 sweep a man off his feet if he were not cautious. An iron 
 ring was suspended from the strong rope which hung from 
 the temporary roof of the bath. In those first summer days 
 at home the two girls learned to plunge through the stream 
 by seizing the ring. Sometimes Don Francisco, coming in 
 from a walk in the orchard where he had been hearing the 
 girlish screams and laughter, would say to Dofia Flavia: 
 
 ' 'It makes me very uneasy to know those girls are in that 
 bath; it's dangerous." But nothing came of it, and morning 
 and afternoon they plunged into it, their pink bathing dresses 
 growing pinker, a,nd their bare arms and feet flashing in the 
 water. And Magdalena was scarcely more gay than Mer- 
 cedes in those days; it was so easy and natural to be light 
 hearted and gay. 
 
 Then came bevies of cousins, young ladies and young gen- 
 tlemen from Monterey and other towns, and the large, old 
 house was full to overflowing, so full, they declared, that 
 there was no room for the ghosts of the Marquis and his 
 family. It was like a cage full of twittering birds. There 
 were amusements from morning till night. 
 
 In the afternoons there was always a horseback party. 
 The girls donned riding habits of the latest Parisian style; 
 each gallant young gentleman rode by the side of a fair 
 cousin. It was worth one's while to watch them as they 
 passed through town in a gallop, and swept out over .the 
 broad, yellow, country road. In the evenings there were 
 always games, music, and dancing. 
 
 An event of great importance was the arrival of Magda- 
 lena's handsome trousseau, including everything from the 
 daintiest white garment to the foamy veil and wreath of 
 orange blossoms, all of them selected by Jose Maria's mother 
 
276 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 and sisters, and paid for by himself; and you may be sure 
 that the young ladies did as much rapturous exclaiming over 
 them as any young ladies of the United States could do. l 
 
 Jose Maria and a half dozen friends from the capital and 
 from Guadalajara joined the party a few days before the 
 marriage was to take place. 
 
 The day of the civil marriage came. A few intimate friends 
 from the town joined the party that gathered every evening 
 in those days in Don Francisco's parlor. They engaged in 
 conversation till the hour for the marriage arrived. Jose 
 Maria and Magdalena, followed by the bridesmaids and 
 groomsmen, entered the room. The bride was very lovely 
 in a pale pink silk dress. They stood side by side, a goodly 
 couple, he radiant as Apollo, and she fair and rosy as Diana. 
 Then the Judge and the Alcalde and the two witnesses, and 
 all the people, stood up, and with patriotic thoughts of the 
 ''Citizen Benito Juarez," and of the good days that had suc- 
 ceeded the evil days, the Judge united them in marriage. 
 
 And it was so much better than going into convents, 
 thought the old people who were present, remembering their 
 own daughters and their probable fate in former years. And 
 ;so the young people rejoiced, and the old people rejoiced 
 more, and thanked God for Benito Juarez. And they kissed 
 the bride and congratulated them both. But Don Francisco 
 thought all that evening of his other daughter, as fair and 
 lovable as this one the one who was in a convent in France. 
 
 After the marriage there was more conversation and music, 
 .and at an early hour the company dispersed. The lights 
 were extinguished and the house grew quiet, and all of them, 
 from the sweet bride, for the last time with the other girls in 
 her "own room, "where she had dreamed so many happy 
 dreams, to the little girls who were to carry the train of her 
 
 l Note. Sometimes the young couple, accompanied by their parents, 
 go to a city together and the ladies of the party select the bride's ward- 
 robe, the promised husband, of course, paying for it. But it is quite 
 common, now, as it is more convenient, for the husband-to-be to give the 
 money to the bride,, so that she may herself select the trousseau. 
 
THE TWO MARRIAGES. 277 
 
 bridal dress, thought, waking or asleep, of the marriage that 
 was to be on the morrow. l 
 
 It was near noon of the next day when about a dozen car- 
 riages drew up at the side of the pretty little plaza in front 
 of the church. A carpet had been spread from the stopping 
 place of the carriages to the church door. Don Francisco, 
 Magdalena and two of the little girls were in the first car- 
 riage; in the second came Jose Maria, Dona Flavia, and two 
 young ladies. The procession formed, Don Francisco and 
 Magdalena leading the way. Two little girls in white dresses 
 and wreaths of pink roses carried the long train of her white 
 satin dress. Next to them came Jose Maria and Dofla Flavia, 
 and after them the bridesmaids and groomsmen, the former 
 in pale cream-colored dresses, and with tiny white veils over 
 their heads and fastened on their bosoms, but without 
 flowers. 
 
 Jose Maria joined Magdalena in front of the altar. The 
 groomsmen took their places by his side, and the brides- 
 maids stood by her, all of them on the handsome rug, which 
 extended from the platform far down in front of the altar. 
 Before the groom and bride and each groomsman and brides- 
 maid lay an exquisitely embroidered cushion of white silk, all 
 of them furnished by the groom. On these they knelt and 
 awaited the entrance of the Senor Cure. He advanced to the 
 
 l Note. Sometimes, after the civil marriage ceremony is performed, 
 the company dance all night, and at dawn or before dawn of the day go 
 to the church where the religious marriasre takes place. But it is now 
 considered more elegant to have the/ civil marriage at night, making 
 little ado over it, and the religious marriage the following day, accom- 
 panied by all the festivities which are common in weddings. 
 
 "Are there many people now who consider that the civil ceremony 
 is not valid, and that therefore the parties are not married till the 
 religious ceremony is performed?" I asked of a bright-faced Catholic 
 young lady who had been giving me a vivacious account of an elegant 
 wedding in which she had been one of the bridesmaids. 
 
 "No, only a few old people think that now. Sometimes the religious 
 marriage takes place first, but in that case." she added, laughing, "the 
 civil authorities fine the Senor Cure, because they say the religious 
 ceremony is not marriage. He has had to pay a good many fines for 
 doing that, but he doesn't mind it; he will perform the religious cere- 
 mony first every time he gets a chance." 
 
278 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 front of the altar, accompanied by two acolytes, one of them 
 with the golden censer of incense, the other with the high 
 cross. As the Sefior Cure was to say high mass he was in 
 robes suitable for the occasion. The sacristan held the ves- 
 sel of holy water and the hyssop with which it was to be 
 sprinkled on the contracting parties. 
 
 JFose Maria, Magdalena and the bridesmaids and grooms- 
 men arose and stood before him. The usual questions were 
 asked and answered; then the rings were exchanged, the 
 thirteen pieces of money, "the pledges," were poured by the 
 groom into the hands of the bride and returned by her to the 
 Senor Cure, and they were sprinkled with holy water. They 
 then knelt, and the first bridesmaid lifted the veil of the bride 
 and drew it across the shoulders of the groom; the Sefior 
 Cure wound about them the silken cord which typified their 
 union, and the sacristan gave to each of them and to each of 
 the attendants a lighted candle, which they held while the 
 mass was being sung. This being ended they returned to 
 the house where they received the congratulations of their 
 friends. 1 
 
 The remainder of the evening was spent in conversation, 
 games, meriendas, music, and dancing. There was a splendid 
 supper and a grand ball in the evening. 
 
 The next day, accompanied by a large party to the station, 
 seventeen miles distant, Jose Maria and Magdalena left with 
 the friends of the former who had come with him, for his 
 parents' home in Guadalajara. There, admired and admiring 
 each other, they enjoyed the balls, receptions and all that go 
 to constitute the life of fashionable people in the first weeks 
 after their marriage. Then they went to housekeeping in 
 the City of Mexico. 
 
 *Note. The "tariff," as they call it, of the religious marriage is so 
 jealously guarded by the priests that by no efforts could I get a sight of 
 it. It matters little, however, except for the suffering from ungratified 
 curiosity, since the charges are, of course, arbitrary, depending on what 
 the happy groom can be induced to pay. I can only say that the rug, 
 incense, holy water, cross, robes, candles, cord, etc., are each paid for; 
 and if the finer things, such as the "golden censer," the high cross, the 
 silken cord, etc., are used the cost is more. 
 
THE GREAT CHANGE. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE GREAT CHANGE. 
 
 AFTER Magdalena's marriage the months glided swiftly 
 by in the old house which the Marquis built. At first 
 they were all lonely and sad without her, and the arrival of 
 her letters, telling of her gay life, were the greatest events 
 of the week. But as the weeks passed her place closed over 
 and they learned to live without her. 
 
 Mercedes would have considered herself happy in those 
 months but for the certainty which hung over her, like the 
 fabulous sword, that as soon as Dofia Flavia was convinced 
 that she could not be induced to return to the Church she 
 should be dismissed; and then how should she support her- 
 self? Who would give work to a girl who had been dismissed 
 by the Senora Urbin^for want of respect for the Church? 
 
 She would have thought she was happy but for this and 
 the haunting unrest, the mysterious, dreadful weight which 
 lay on her spirit. Sometimes she knelt and tried to say the 
 "Our Father," but she knew that the Father did not hear, 
 and often she arose from her knees without saying one word. 
 Instead of being happy she was desperately gay and inwardly 
 defiant against the influences of the Spirit, which were more 
 and more distinctly felt. 
 
 At last the burden could be borne no longer; the time had 
 arrived for the consummation of that great change which 
 had been decreed before the foundation of the world, "accord- 
 ing to the good pleasure of his will." She herself told the 
 story of this change in a letter to her friend in Mexico: 
 
 "SALT A, March 15, 189. 
 Sra. Mo.ximiliana Valle de Sierra: 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND: Such a great change has happened to 
 me that I must write to tell you about it. You will be aston- 
 
280 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 ished, I know, to hear that I have believed the gospel. It 
 happened two weeks ago, and I have thought of you often 
 since; and this morning I said: 'I am going to write to Maxi- 
 miliana, and maybe when she knows how good and how true 
 it is the Lord will have mercy on her that she may believe 
 too.' 
 
 This was the way it happened: You know I was a strong 
 Catholic, and I confessed to the priests, and I did penance, 
 and said prayers to the images, and I even wanted to be a 
 Sister of Charity; and all the time I was trying to buy salva- 
 tion with money and good works. But I found no peace in 
 any of these things. At last I happened to see some copies 
 of 'El Faro,' 1 and 'El Kamo de Olivo,' 2 and they made me 
 more anxious than ever about the salvation of my soul. I 
 resolved to see what the Protestants taught about it. 
 
 I could not go to the Protestant house of worship right 
 away, because I didn't know how to do there, and I didn't 
 know whether I should be welcome. So I asked Cipriana 
 JSrorivar, my godmother, you remember, to go with me one 
 Sunday afternoon to the house of the Protestant minister to 
 Jbrsfcto find out about it. We pretended that she wanted some 
 Mewing to do. She does sew for people, but she said she was 
 afitfafd of their sewing, and she hoped they would not give 
 and they didn't, for they said they had none to hire. 
 we waited and waited, for I did not know how to tell 
 what I wanted, and I did not want to leave without 
 out how to go to the meeting, and if they would let 
 me go. 
 
 the lady asked us if we knew anything about the 
 told us she would be glad for us to come to the 
 and she said that everybody was welcome, and that 
 nothing to do but go in and sit down and listen. 
 Cipriana to go with me that very night. Of 
 course^ I- did not let Dofia Flavia know it; I went from 
 
 . TjOl .G I 
 
 Cipriana s house. 
 
 go^stant house of prayer looked very curious. There 
 ^ water near the door, and there was not a single 
 
 'The Presbyterian paper. 2 The Quaker paper. 
 
THE GREAT CHANGE. 281 
 
 image or picture on the wall. There were seats enough for 
 every one, and the people didn't kneel at all when they came 
 in, for there was nothing to kneel to; they just walked in 
 and sat down. There were no censers, nor robes, nor incense, 
 nor anything of the kind. They sang a hymn, and then they 
 prayed without any books or rosaries, and without seeing 
 anything to pray to just to God, you know and then the 
 minister read some from the Bible and explained it. I could 
 understand the song and prayer and sermon and everything 
 none of it was in Lathi. 
 
 I' went three tunes to the church; and I went to the house, 
 too, and the minister and the lady I spoke of first read to me 
 from the Word of God and explained it to me. One night, 
 in the house of worship, the minister read and explained a 
 story. 
 
 It was about a rich man who had two sons; and one of them 
 asked his father to give him his share of the property; and 
 he went away off to another country. He lived extrava- 
 gantly; he had a casino and he gave balls, and he belonged 
 to a club, and he went to the theaters. He spent all his 
 money so that he was poor, very poor, and he had to hire to 
 a man to keep his hogs. And then he thought about his 
 father's house and wished he was back there. 
 
 His father was very sad because his son was gone; he 
 stood out in the road and watched for him nearly all the time, 
 putting his hands over his eyes and looking. A woman 
 passed and he asked her if she knew anything about his son. 
 She said, 'No, I don't; but if I see him I will tell him that 
 you want him to come back. ' A man passed and he said the 
 same thing to htm and he received the same reply. And so 
 passed many days. At last the son did come back, all in rags, 
 but his father knew him, and he ran and embraced him and 
 kissed him and took him into the house and put a fine, new 
 robe on him; and they noticed that he had no ring on his 
 finger, so they put one on him; and they ran and killed the 
 fatted calf, and they all were very merry. Oh, it was such a 
 beautiful story! The minister said that was the way the 
 
282 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Lord would receive a sinner if he repented and went back 
 and asked for pardon. 
 
 After I went home to Dofia Flavia's house I couldn't sleep 
 for the preaching of the minister that was sounding in my 
 ears. All the night I saw myself covered with sin; and then 
 it all slipped away from me, and I saw myself clothed in a 
 robe as white as snow; but I was very, very weak. I was 
 regenerated and made white by the blood of Christ. 1 I am a 
 member of the church now, for I was baptized last Sunday 
 night. 
 
 But you don't know, dear Maximiliana, what struggles one 
 who is just converted from Roman Catholicism has with his 
 heart on account of his false education in religion. 
 
 I have learned a great deal about the gospel since I be- 
 lieved, for I have read the Bible a great deal. They showed 
 me where it says that we must not have images, nor bow 
 
 . The following account, which Schiller gives of the conversion 
 of Mortimer, is quoted in El Tiempo as a genuine "conversion to Cathol- 
 icism." "It seems incredible," says El Tiempo, "that one who could 
 speak thus of himself should remain longer sunk in the errors of Prot- 
 estanism." Mortimer is represented as relating his conversion to Mary, 
 Queen of Scots. He says: "I had never felt the magic of the arts; the 
 religion in which I had been educated disdains them and does not toler- 
 ate images or anything which speaks to the senses; it wants only the dry 
 and bare word. What then would be my emotion on entering the 
 church and hearing the music which appeared to descend from heaven 
 on seeing on the walls and arches that multitude of images representing 
 the Almighty, the Highest, which appear to move as one looks at them. 
 .... I contemplated with ecstasy the divine pictures of the Salutation 
 of the Angel, the Birth of the Savior, the Holy Mother of God, the 
 Divine Trinity, and the brilliant Transfiguration. I attended at last 
 the sacrifice of the Mass, celebrated by the Pope, who in all his splendor 
 blessed the people. Ah! what are the gold and the jewels of the kings 
 of the world worth compared with so much magnificence? he alone is 
 seen encircled with a divine halo; his word is like the kingdom of hea- 
 ven, for that which is seen there is not a thing of this world." 
 
 Says El Tiempo, u The reasoning of Cardinal Guise finished the work 
 which the splendor of the worship had begun." He "showed him that 
 the eyes must see what the heart ought to believe, that the Church 
 needed a visible Head, that the spirit of truth presided in the Councils." 
 .... "I entered," says Mortimer, in conclusion, "into the bosom of the 
 Catholic Church and abjured my errors." 
 
THE GREAT CHANGE 283 
 
 down to them. It is one of the ten commandments. When 
 Father Ripalda wrote his catechism for the Catholics he 
 omitted that commandment and divided the tenth to make ten 
 commandments. The Bible teaches us that we ought to pray 
 to God and not to the saints. We have no formulas for 
 prayer; we just say what we feel in our hearts. The priests 
 can't forgive sins; there never have been any men on the 
 earth who could forgive sins except the holy Apostles. 
 
 In our church all is brotherly kindness and equality. We 
 call each other 'Brother' and 'Sister. ' Oh, how one does love 
 Ms brothers and sisters in Christ! Even if one has never 
 seen them he loves them. 
 
 Now, my dear friend, I have written you all this so you 
 may go to the evangelical worship, too, and learn the way of 
 salvation. Oh, if you only knew how the burden of sin slips 
 away from one when he believes in Christ! 
 
 You are mistaken about their having an image of the 
 blessed Virgin for candidates for admission to the church to 
 spit on and slap. We think of her as the holy Mother of God 
 as she was in truth; but we say that she has no power to for- 
 give sins, for that is what we are taught in the Sacred Scrip- 
 tures; Christ is the only Savior. 
 
 Give many salutations to your husband for me, and accept 
 an embrace and a kiss from your friend, who loves you, 
 
 MERCEDES GONZALES. 
 
 P. D. Dona Flavia would not let me stay in her house 
 when she learned that I had believed the gospel; my aunt 
 had left Salta more than a year ago, and the Senor Cure 
 threatened not to absolve Cipriana if she took me in; but a 
 good woman, who is a sister in Christ, Dona Susana Espinosa, 
 took me to her house. She is very poor, but I help her make 
 cigarettes. Sometimes, it is true, I do feel like one who is 
 out on the ocean clinging to a plank, and it seems that my 
 fingers are growing numb and slipping off; but when I feel 
 so I get my Bible and read how our Lord Jesus Christ said 
 that our heavenly Father clothed the flowers and fed the 
 birds, and that we were of much more value than they; and 
 
284 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 so I leave it to him and go on; I would rather live this way 
 than be a Catholic." 
 
 In this letter she says nothing of several things which she 
 would have told with enthusiasm if she had sat by the side of 
 her friend. Above all she would have told her of her joy 
 and of her awe when for the first time she held in her hands 
 the Word of God, the revelation of the Creator to his crea- 
 tures. 
 
 We who are so familiar with this revelation, who use these 
 phrases so often how seldom we pause. to think of ,their 
 import! How wonderful it is to know the mind, the char- 
 acter, of him who created all things, the sun and moon and 
 stars, the Milky Way of suns, and, above all, of him who 
 gave us our mysterious being! 
 
 She said nothing of that day when she was called to stand 
 before man for the Lord's sake. When even Don Francisco's 
 strong authority could no longer shield her from the wrath 
 and scorn of Dona Flavia. But there were given her in that 
 same hour some strong, calm, plain, humble words which 
 those who heard her could neither gainsay nor resist. 
 
 And at the end of the scene, in obedience to her mistress* 
 orders, she opened, and closed behind her, the great front 
 doors and stood in the street homeless. She was very, very 
 happy; she now had fellowship with Christ in his sufferings.. 
 
 There was one instant when her faith failed her and every- 
 thing grew dark and swam before her; it was when she turned 
 away from Cipriana's door. It was only for an instant. 
 Night was approaching, but again she looked toward the 
 setting sun with a bright face. God would take care of her 
 somehow, in his own way, she knew. She went on down the 
 street, and presently she met Dofia Susana Espinosa, a poor 
 woman, whom she had seen at "the house of prayer." 
 
 "Good evening, mi alma (my soul, equivalent to "my 
 dear"), at your service. Where is the Sefiorita going?" she 
 said. 
 
 ' 'I don't know, Dofia Susana, I am like the Lord now, with- 
 out a place to lay my head. " 
 
THE GREAT CHANGE. 285 
 
 "May God will it! Blessed be his holy name!" exclaimed 
 Dona Susana, whose Roman Catholicism would cling to her, 
 notwithstanding the new life that was in her, till she entered 
 the gate of heaven. Her pious exclamations were often quite 
 irrelevant. "What has happened?" she continued. 
 
 "Nothing but what I expected. The lady I lived with has 
 turned me off because I believed the gospel." 
 
 "Has the Senorita any friend that she can stay with?" she 
 asked hesitatingly, thinking of her poor home. 
 
 "No, but I am not afraid, Dona Susana; the Lord will take 
 care of me. " 
 
 The good woman took her to her house. The next day she 
 sent to Don Francisco's for her clothing. Her fingers soon 
 acquired their former swiftness in making cigarettes; but she 
 could not earn enough at it. Day after day the little money 
 that she had saved slipped through, her fingers; then she sold 
 some of her dresses. She tried to induce some of the pool- 
 neighbors to let her teach their children; but, of course, they 
 would not permit that, for had she not added to her other 
 sins by trying to convince them that her heresy was more 
 acceptable to God than the teachings of the Holy Mother 
 Church? Don Francisco tried to find her employment, but 
 lie was no more successful than herself. The minister offered 
 her a temporary home in his house, but she preferred to earn 
 her living, even in the humblest way, to being a burden to 
 any one. 
 
 And so the weeks grew into months till three of them had 
 passed, and still she sat, with a painted tray in her lap, and 
 twisted cigarettes. And always there lay by her side a New 
 Testament; and often she read aloud to Dona Susana and 
 they talked of what she read: and thus, slowly, one by one, 
 were corrected the errors in her belief that appear in her 
 letter to Maxitniliana. 
 
286 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 
 
 I 'W 5 ES, mi alma, it is better to follow the Lord, no matter 
 how much we have to suffer. In heaven we shall 
 have peace and rest." 
 
 "Yes, Dona Susana," replied Mercedes. 
 
 "I was a Catholic," went on Dona Susana as she prepared 
 the shucks to receive the tobacco, "and a strong one. I be- 
 longed to the Society of Perpetual Adoration. My time to 
 kneel before the image of the Virgin was Tuesday morning 
 of every week. How tired I did get kneeling on the stone 
 floor! The rich ladies that I worked for used to have me go 
 to their rooms and they would read the prayers to me. And 
 when they thought I didn't want to confess they used to take 
 me up in their carriages and carry me to the church. O, they 
 were very good to me in those days!" she said, laughing. 
 
 "How did you come to believe the gospel?" asked Mer- 
 cedes, knowing that the old woman would be pleased to tell 
 her for the twentieth time. 
 
 "I was going to mass one Sunday morning, and I met a 
 gentleman in the street. He stopped me and asked me where 
 I was going, and I told him, 'To mass;' and he said, 'Come in 
 and hear me say mass. ' So I went into the little room, and he 
 preached the Word of God to me and to a few other people 
 who were there. And the Lord had mercy on me, and the 
 light entered my mind and I believed the gospel. That was 
 ten years ago. Since then I have had a great deal of trouble, 
 but the Lord has been with me. " 
 
 "I couldn't join the church right away, because I was mar- 
 ried to my husband only by the Church. I had to either 
 leave him or be married to him by the law. He was very 
 rebellious and I had a great deal of trouble," she added, with 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 287 
 
 a deep sigh. Then, remembering, she said, "But, poor man! 
 he is dead now. He didn't know any better. It was the 
 drink that ruined him, just as it is ruining my poor boys, 
 that I pray so for every day. If they would only come home 
 from the mines! Ah, God will succor us! After I had saved 
 the money to pay the judge to marry us it was a long time 
 before I could persuade him to be married by the law." 
 
 Just then something darkened the doorway, and looking 
 up, Mercedes saw a servant from Don Francisco's house 
 crossing the two thin rocks that spanned the tiny stream of 
 water which ran in front of the house. Seeing her in that 
 humble room, and in that occupation, he did not take off his 
 hat, but, saluting them both in a style which he thought 
 suitable to the occasion, he handed Mercedes a note. It was 
 from Dona Flavia. She had just returned from Mexico, 
 bringing Magdalena and her baby with her. She had found 
 Pepe very sick, and he had been steadily growing worse. He. 
 wished to see her; would she be so kind as to come to him? 
 She had evidently tried to write as if nothing had happened 
 between herself and Mercedes, and it had been a difficult task. 
 
 A half hour later Mercedes was at the door of the room 
 where the sick child lay. 
 
 When she could distinguish objects in the darkness she 
 saw Dofia Flavia kneeling by the tiny bed; Magdalena sat 
 at the foot, and a little way from the head sat an elderly 
 lady, a friend of the family. As Mercedes entered Dona 
 Flavia turned her fair, troubled face to the lady, and ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 ' 'O, Dofia Guadalupe, how could I bear it if my child should 
 die!" 
 
 "Well, Flavia," replied the low, gentle voice of the matron, 
 "when my son died I said, 'The Lord gave and the Lord hath 
 taken away.' We must all submit to the will of the Lord. 
 What else can we do?" 
 
 This was merely an expression of the fatalism that is so 
 prevalent in Catholic countries. 
 
 When Mercedes came near the bed Dona Flavia arose and 
 
.288 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 shook hands with her, saying kindly: "I am glad you have 
 come, Mercedes." Magdalena greeted her with all her old 
 affection. 
 
 When she turned to the little bed she saw the wasted form 
 and pale face of her little pupil. A new rope hung on the 
 foot of the bed so his feverish eyes could see it. "He wants 
 it to drive the calves with when he gets well," explained 
 Dona Flavia. "His papa bought it for him. Sometimes he 
 has it hung at the head of the bed so he can touch it. Speak 
 to him, Mercedes. Maybe he will know you." 
 
 Mercedes knelt and touched his hand, saying softly: 
 
 "Pepe, darling, do you know me?" 
 
 He opened his eyes and a smile pursed the thin face, as he 
 said: "Mercedes." 
 
 But he was too weak to say more then. After awhile he 
 opened his eyes and said in a slow, faltering voice: "Mer- 
 cedes, you won't leave me any more, will you?" 
 
 "Tell him you will stay with him," whispered Dona Plavia, 
 hiding her face, bathed in tears, behind Mercedes. 
 
 "Yes, Pepe, darling, I will stay with you." 
 
 And she did stay during the three remaining days, and 
 then the end came. But when the "angel" 1 lay in the parlor 
 with the flowers about him she stole out of the house and 
 went back to Dofia Susana's. She could be of no further use 
 to them, and they must not think that she wanted to stay. 
 
 But the evening after the burial she put on a black dress 
 and a black shawl, and accompanied by Dofia Susana, went 
 to the house of mourning. A servant met them and took 
 them through the dark hall, through a dark room, and 
 another in which one candle burned, into a room where sat 
 in darkness, save for the little light which entered from the 
 one candle of the adjoining room, Dofia Flavia and Magda- 
 lena. They were dressed in black, and had black shawls 
 drawn closely about their faces. 
 
 A strange sight it was. Here in this inner room they sat 
 to receive their visits of condolence, and the dark room and 
 
 l Note. The corpses of children, seven years old or under, are called 
 "angels ; "and flowers are placed about them to typify their innocence. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 289 
 
 the mourning apparel were a fitting expression of the state 
 of their minds. 
 
 When Mercedes entered Magdalena arose and threw her 
 arms around her neck, sobbing. When she released her 
 Dona Flavia came to meet her, her old dignity and grace of 
 manner clinging to her in the midst of her deep grief. But 
 her voice was very much shaken, as she said: 
 
 "Mercedes, why did you leave? He wanted you to stay; I 
 am sure he wanted you to stay after he was gone. We all 
 want you to stay. Can't you?' r The belief had forced itself 
 into Dona Flavia's soul that her child's death was a punish- 
 ment for her having turned a homeless girl into the street. 
 
 "Yes, Senora, I can stay awhile if I can be of any use to 
 you," replied Mercedes. 
 
 She came back the next day and stayed. And after several 
 of those sad and quiet days had passed over the household 
 she again gathered the children into the schoolroom and 
 taught them. 
 
 Magdalena was sad and quiet as the others. She tried to 
 smile as she showed Mercedes her baby, but it was a pitiful 
 failure. Mercedes noticed with apprehensions of something 
 wrong, that, in contrast with the days of her courtship, she 
 seldom mentioned Jose Maria. Had her married life disap- 
 poioted her? or was it but natural that she should not love 
 her husband less, of course but think less and say less 
 about him because her heart was filled with this great, new 
 mother love? 
 
 One day they were walking in the orchard under the grape- 
 vines, whose young leaves were pale, golden green in the 
 spring sunlight. 
 
 "Tell me," said Magdalena earnestly, slipping her little 
 hand, with its tapering fingers, over Mercedes' arm, * 'tell me, 
 what do you believe, Mercedes?" 
 
 "About what?" asked Mercedes, her heart giving a great 
 leap, and then growing quiet. 
 
 "About religion. What do the Protestants believe?" 
 
 "Well," replied Mercedes, remembering that the minister 
 
290 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 had told her she must be very cautious how she began to talk 
 to the Catholics about religion, "we believe just as the 
 Catholics do about some things. We believe in the Father. 
 Son, and Holy Spirit," and then she was sure that at any 
 other time Magdalena would have laughed at that dignified 
 declaration of her creed. 
 
 "But do you not believe in the saints also?" 
 
 "No, not as you do. We have no saints as you under- 
 stand it." 
 
 "O," said Magdalena, wonderingly, "you have saints; you 
 could not have names without having saints." 
 
 "O, yes, we can. Protestants don't name their children 
 for the saints." 
 
 "What do you do Tat your church?" resumed Magdalena, 
 
 "We study the Scriptures and sing and pray, and our pas- 
 tor preaches to us from the Bible." 
 
 "You read the Bible for yourselves, too, don't you?" and 
 the shocked tone of her voice and expression of her face were 
 quite noticeable. 
 
 "Yes, all of us, every day." 
 
 "But do you not pray to the saints at all?" asked Magda- 
 lena, going back, after a pause, to that important dogma of 
 the Catholics. 
 
 "No, never." 
 
 "Not even to Mary, the Holy Mother of God?" 
 
 "No, never." 
 
 "What do you think of Mary, anyhow?" 
 
 "We think that she was a good Christian woman, because 
 she was a believer in the Lord, and that she was highly hon- 
 ored in being the mother of our Lord; but we believe that 
 she w r as capable of sin, and that she did sin just as you or I 
 or any other woman." 
 
 "O, no, no! How can you think so? The Lord made her 
 pure and holy. He kept her from all sin, from all thought of 
 sin, in order that she should be his mother. She was the 
 highest product of his mind, of his intelligence." 
 
 "I know that is the teaching of the Church," said Mer- 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH 291 
 
 cedes, quietly, "but it has no foundation in the Word of God.'' 
 
 "Our religion is so comforting!" went on Magdalena, not 
 noticing the reply. 
 
 * 'But ours is consoling, too," said Mercedes; and she was 
 thinking: "chosen, loved, before the foundation of the earth; 
 casting all your care on him; to be like him at last!" 
 
 "But not like ours. O, it is such a comfort to have so many 
 saints to pray to!" 
 
 "But I think it is a greater comfort to confess our sins and 
 tell our griefs directly to the Lord." 
 
 "But it is this way, you know, Mercedes: An earthly king 
 must have a great many ministers about him, because he 
 can't attend to all the requests of the many people who call 
 on him at the same time. When a poor man comes he must 
 make his request to one of the ministers. So God has 
 appointed the saints to hear our prayers, and the priests to 
 forgive our sins." 
 
 "But God is not like .a man. He could hear and pay par- 
 ticular attention to each petition if every person in the whole 
 world prayed to him at the same time. " 
 
 "Ah, Mercedes, it is strange you should think of it that 
 way. But come, I am very tired. Let us go to the house. ' r 
 
 Mercedes prayed in her heart as they went on to the house, 
 "Lord, teach me how to teach her." And her heart ached 
 for her worse than ever as she saw how pale and tired she 
 looked in her black dress when she lay down on the sofa in 
 her father's study. 
 
 She was not feeling well, her mother noticed. In her grief 
 she had not thought much about any of her children except 
 the little boy whom she had lost. 
 
 In a day or two Magdalena said she must go home; she had 
 been away from Jose Maria a whole month and he would bo 
 lonely without her and baby. In vain they protested that 
 they would write or telegraph to him to come; she replied 
 that she preferred to go home; she should be better for the 
 change, she thought. And they all thought she was prob- 
 ably right about that. So her father took her to Mexico, and 
 
292 MERCEDES, A STOKY OF MEXICO. 
 
 stayed a few days and returned, reporting that she seemed to 
 be better; she would, no doubt, be quite strong and well soon. 
 
 But in a few days there came a telegram. It flashed down 
 like scathing lightning into that already stricken household. 
 It was from Jose Maria: "Magdalena was very sick; would 
 her mother come immediately." 
 
 Then Dona Flavia, forgetting the impossibility of leaving 
 the house during the months of mourning, went with Don 
 Francisco to her daughter's bedside. 
 
 The fever had seized her. It was the same old story; "the 
 old, old fashion of death, " for "we are all to die, each in his 
 time, and who can help it!" as the Catholics say. 
 
 There was no help in anything, thought the parents and 
 the young husband. 
 
 Before the delirium and in lucid intervals the terror of 
 'death laid hold upon her. There were crucifixes and burning 
 candles where she could not open her eyes without seeing 
 them, but they gave her no comfort. In vain the priest 
 heard her last confession and gave her absolution; in vain he 
 gave her the Eucharist; in vain he administered the Extreme 
 Unction, putting on her feverish face and hands the oil of 
 olives consecrated by the bishop, and repeating over her the 
 words which he said the "Holy Church of Rome, the Mother 
 :and Mistress of us all had received by faithful tradition, 'By 
 this holy anointing may God pardon thee all that thou hast 
 sinned through vice of the eyes, of the nose, the touch,' etc., 
 etc." In vain Jose Maria assured her that many masses 
 should be said for the repose of her soul. All in vain ! 
 
 But after it was all over and she lay on the silken cushions 
 of the casket in the black mortaja 1 in the midst of the burning 
 candles, there 'were many who said that she looked very 
 
 1 JVbte. Formerly this dress, the mortaja, was bought from the priests. 
 They would not bury any corpse without it; and as the burying grounds 
 were all in the hands of the priests it followed that no corpse could ba 
 buried without it. The priests, therefore, often charged exorbitant 
 prices for it. Now that the cemeteries belong to the government the 
 mortaja is used or not, according to the wishes of the friends; and it is 
 made by the friends as any other dress would be. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 293 
 
 peaceful, and that there could be no doubt that that sweet, 
 young creature had "died in grace." 1 
 
 Notwithstanding the prohibition of the law, the double 
 chimes of bells announced the funeral services in the church. 
 There was sung the Misa del cuerpo presente (mass with the 
 body present). Afterward the casket was bound in the 
 hearse with ropes covered with flowers, and the male friends 
 of the family followed it in coaches, in slow procession, 
 to the pantheon. Dona Flavia set her heart on having the 
 funeral service chanted by the priests and acolytes in the 
 streets, as the procession moved along, after the old fashion, 
 but Don Francisco would not consent to so flagrant a viola- 
 tion of the law. 
 
 In the pantheon the casket was placed on the ground, the 
 priest in his robes stood by it, and the acolytes, with the 
 high cross, the holy water, and the censer of incense. After 
 their ceremonies were over the coffin was lowered, a few 
 shovels of earth were thrown in, and then all retired but the 
 sexton and his assistants. 
 
 Af.ter the last sad rites were over Don Francisco and Dofia 
 Flavia brought the tiny baby and its nurse to their home; 
 and Jose Maria remained alone. 
 
 This last blow almost prostrated Dofia Flavia. She was 
 rebellious about 'her daughter's death; if God had punished 
 her for her conduct toward Mercedes by taking her son why 
 should he punish her still more, after she had repented, by 
 taking her daughter? she said to herself. Her health gave 
 way under the strain of grief; she was not able to care for 
 the baby. Thus it came to pass that Mercedes took charge 
 of it and its nurse. They slept, and, in fact, lived in her 
 room. It was to this care for the child that Mercedes was 
 
 l Note. All of the dead in Roman Catholic countries who have the 
 privilege of going- to purgatory instead of directly to the infernal regions 
 are said to "die in grace." None go directly to heaven; and none go to 
 hell except heretics, infidels, and others who die refusing the offices of 
 the Church, and whose relatives refuse to pay for masses for the dead. 
 Consequently the Church loses no money by admitting the doctrine of 
 eternal punishment. 
 
294 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 indebted for the privilege of staying longer in the house; 
 for, but for that, Dofia Flavia would have found some excuse 
 to dismiss her and yet retain a quiet conscience. 
 
 As the months passed the tiny boy became fat and rosy and 
 beautiful. The dark shadow of death slipped from over the 
 family. The baby was a "well-spring of joy" to them all, 
 even to Don Francisco. Jose Maria came sometimes, and he, 
 too, was gay and playful with his boy. He did not fail to see 
 during his short visits that it was Mercedes who cared for 
 his child, though she intentionally had less to do with it 
 during his stay in the house than at other times. 
 
 Her position was far more like that of a servant than it had 
 been during her former stay there. She was seldom invited 
 into the parlor now. The excuse for the omission, if one 
 were neede'd, would have been that the care of the child 
 occupied her time when she was not in school. But she 
 knew that that was not it, for often they saw her walking 
 back and forth in the corridor while the baby slept and the 
 nurse sat by him. 
 
 But she was happier for being left thus alone; she had 
 more time for the reading of the Bible and for prayer. 
 
DUTY. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 DUTY. 
 
 ATOTWITHSTANDING her faith there were some very 
 1 M dark days in Mercedes' life. She knew that the time 
 would certainly come when she should have to go back to 
 the life of poverty and coarseness from which she had been 
 lifted for awhile. 
 
 Then, again, it was inevitable that such a nature as hers 
 should feel deeply, now that she stood on a higher plane, 
 and her finer sensibilities had been cultivated, the wrongs 
 that had been inflicted on all of her class by the Roman 
 Catholic Church the poverty, ignorance, and degradation. 
 
 In those days this Mexican daughter of a religious mar- 
 riage sought to quiet her spirit by reading the eighteenth 
 chapter of the Revelation of John: "Babylon is fallen, is 
 fallen." And her soul took up the cry of "them that were 
 slain for the Word of God and for the testimony which they 
 held: How long, O Lord, dost thou not judge and avenge our 
 blood on them that dwell on the earth!" 
 
 A very human instrument was used to help her out of one 
 of these seasons of darkness. It happened that Jose Maria 
 came. He had few opportunities to talk with her in these 
 days; but he sometimes came out and swung the children 
 during the recesses of the school, and then he exchanged a 
 few words with her. 
 
 He had for some time been making up his mind that he 
 would like to marry Mercedes. I don't suppose he is the 
 first young gentleman of aristocratic origin and ideas who 
 ever fell into the error of wanting to marry a girl who was 
 his inferior in social ppsition. There was more than one 
 reason which caused him to entertain this extraordinary 
 thought. He loved his child; he wanted him with him. He 
 
296 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 wanted to know that he was in the care of some one who 
 would always be kind to him; he had rejoiced all this time 
 that Mercedes had the care of his boy. 
 
 Besides that he liked Mercedes, liked her very much, be- 
 cause he knew that she admired him. He remembered her 
 low origin, it is true; but he reflected that he, Jose Maria 
 Ortega, was high enough in riches and respectability to do 
 as he pleased in this matter, and in all matters. Besides no 
 one would suspect it; seeing her and knowing her, who of 
 the society in which he moved in the capital or in Paris would 
 ask if his wife were the daughter of a peon? 
 
 He knew that she had gone off into this strange heresy, 
 and that was to be regretted; but she would soon turn from 
 it under his influence. 
 
 Besides these considerations there was another which, if it 
 was not an argument in favor of it, was at least a pleasant 
 thought in connection with it: His marriage with Mercedes 
 would be a terrible blow to his mother-in-law; and Jose Maria 
 had developed that unaccountable, unprecedented peculiarity, 
 that of heartily disliking his mother-in-law. 
 
 Giving all these things due consideration he had arrived at 
 the conclusion that after Magdalena he would rather have 
 Mercedes for a wife than any other girl he had ever known. 
 
 He was thinking this one afternoon when he came up to 
 Mercedes as she stood in the shade of one of the large trees 
 at the back of the house. The children were playing a little 
 way off. After a little conversation he said: 
 
 * 'I wish you would come into the parlor in the evenings 
 now as you used to do. I would so love to talk to you some- 
 times." 
 
 He said that at the most dangerous time. She had no 
 thought of courtship, but she was hungry for respect and 
 sympathy. She looked up at him with half pleading eyes, 
 and said: 
 
 "You do respect me and like me a little then?" 
 
 Jose Maria had not expected such a reply. It touched him. 
 He stooped to pick up a pencil that had slipped from her 
 
DUTY. 297 
 
 fingers as she spoke, and as he restored it to her his slender, 
 soft hand, with the blue veins in it, lingered on her hand and 
 clasped it. 
 
 "Mercedes," he said, as he bent nearer her, "you know I 
 always respected you and liked you. I wish I could be with 
 you of ten. ? ' 
 
 Just then the children bounded toward them and she was 
 spared the necessity of replying. She was surprised, but to 
 her, in that strained, suffering state of mind, it did not seem 
 a very exaggerated expression of simple friendship. * 'It was 
 very beautiful and noble of him to show so much kindness to 
 a poor, humble girl," she thought. So it is often; the words 
 go out from our lips and we know not what chords in the 
 souls of others they are going to strike. 
 
 She thought a good deal about it in the next day or two; 
 and as the depressing clouds broke and fled away from her 
 mind she began to suspect, remembering what he had said 
 to her two years before, that he meant more than friendship. 
 And now and then, as one who is crossing the mountains 
 catches sometimes a glimpse of distant landscapes, she saw 
 again the dazzling life that Jose Maria might offer her. 
 Those prospects of worldly enjoyment would have had no 
 attraction for her in the first days after her conversion, but 
 these months of living with those to whom unseen things 
 were as nothing, had told on her spiritual life. 
 
 One afternoon she happened to pass through the study, 
 just at dusk. When she was about half way through the 
 room there arrested her, coming from the dark corner where 
 the sofa was, a happy, electrifying, baby laugh. Thinking 
 the nurse was there with the child she started to rush across 
 the room to catch him in her arms and cover him with kisses; 
 but a tall, dark figure arose from the sofa and came toward 
 her. It was Jose Maria. She threw up her hands with an 
 exclamation, then clasped them, saying: 
 
 ' 'I I thought it was only Catalina with the baby. " 
 
 But Jose Maria came to her side; he laid one hand on her 
 shoulder, and holding her clasped hands with the other, said: 
 
298 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 "Mercedes, why do you avoid me? You know I want to be 
 with you! Won't you stay with me all the time? Won't you 
 marry me?" 
 
 "O, I don't know. Don't talk to me that way, please. Let 
 me go. Think of Dofia Flavia!" and she tried to wrench her 
 hands from his grasp. 
 
 But he held them. The mention of Dona Flavia was the 
 thing of all others to urge him on. In fact in the instant be- 
 fore she said that he had been conscious of something very 
 like uneasiness lest she should accept him. 
 
 ''It makes no difference what she thinks. It only matters 
 what you and I think about it. Tell me, Mercedes." 
 
 "I I can't now. I don't know. I must think about it. I 
 will tell you to-morrow." 
 
 With another effort she disengaged her hands and glided 
 out of the room. Jose Maria went back to the sofa and lifted 
 up the baby from the floor. He scarcely knew what to think 
 of Mercedes' conduct. He could not imagine that any girl 
 would refuse him, and especially a girl of her position. 
 "Think about it, indeed!" he said to himself. But no doubt 
 she was only dazzled at the prospect, and she was evidently 
 -afraid of 'Dona Flavia. Then, remembering his feelings 
 when he thought she might accept him, he reflected that 
 even if he were engaged to her there would be nothing to 
 prevent his breaking the engagement if it did not suit him 
 "on further consideration." 
 
 Mercedes had before her the task of deciding a difficult 
 question that night. What reason was there why she should 
 not marry Jose Maria? He liked her and she liked him. She 
 admired him even; but she had to own to herself, as she had 
 often done before, that there was something wanting, some 
 earnestness of character. She could not thoroughly rever- 
 ence a man in whom she felt that that was lacking. And the 
 Holy Spirit had said: "Let the wife see that she reverence 
 her husband. " She moved uneasily as she thought of that. 
 But she did reverence him in some degree, she said. She 
 remembered that he had never said anything about loving 
 
DUTY. 299 
 
 her. and she had scarcely ever thought of love in connection 
 with him; but, no doubt, now that she did think of it, that 
 was what he meant; and she well she liked him. It would 
 be a great pleasure to her always to have the care of Magda- 
 lena's child. Might it not be a duty to marry him on that 
 account, that she might give the child a Christian education? 
 
 After all the fine things that were said and written about 
 marriage ought we not to exercise common sense about it? 
 The day would come sooner or later when she would have to 
 go out again to that terrible life of poverty and anxiety, a 
 taste of which she had already had. It did not seem so easy 
 and heroic now as it did when she had first entered on it; she 
 shrank from it with an inexpressible shrinking. The life 
 that Jose Maria offered her seemed like Paradise compared 
 with it. How she should be sheltered and cared for! And 
 more and more in the last two years she had been feeling her 
 helplessness and the need of some one stronger and better 
 than herself on whom to lean. Her mind drifted off into 
 thoughts of this new life of ease and wealth and travel. It 
 was so easy and pleasant to think about it. The glittering 
 gift was just before her; she had only to put out her hand 
 and take it. 
 
 But she shook off these thoughts and came back to her 
 task. The question must be decided. She had answered 
 with a sophistry one thing that the Holy Spirit had said. It 
 frightened her to think of it. He might leave her alone to 
 do as she pleased; and it is a fearful thing to a Christian to 
 be left alone to follow his own inclinations. There was a 
 fierce struggle, and at the end of it she said in her heart: "I 
 will do whatever thou mayest show me it is my duty to do." 
 
 Immediately there confronted her another declaration of 
 the Holy Spirit which she had hitherto refused to consider: 
 "Be not unequally yoked with unbelievers." Jose Maria 
 was an unconverted man, an unbeliever. That was unan- 
 swerable; that decided the question. She was exhausted by 
 the struggle, but in her heart shone the soft radiance of the 
 Lord's smile of approval, the * 'peace that passeth under- 
 standing.'* 
 
300 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 The next day when she saw Jose Maria under the trees she 
 did not avoid him. She dreaded very much to answer him 
 She was not the first girl who ever went, almost breaking 
 her heart with pity, because she must refuse to marry a man 
 who would forget her, and marry some one else within six 
 weeks if he had an opportunity nor will she be the last. 
 
 She told him that she respected him and liked him very 
 much, but that the principles of her religion forbade her to 
 marry one whose beliefs were so radically different. She was. 
 very, very sorry he had ever thought of it, but she was sure 
 he would soon think she had answered him wisely, and would 
 be glad that she had answered so. 
 
 He was astonished; then he manifested something very like 
 anger as he made some reply which Mercedes could never 
 quite recall, but which left the impression on her mind that 
 it was not very polite. He turned and walked abruptly away,, 
 and the next morning he left, without telling her good-bye, 
 for the City of Mexico. 
 
 Well, Dona Flavia found it all out. Eavesdropping servants 
 are a wonderful help sometimes to mistresses in keeping up 
 with the affairs of their households. She was disgusted with 
 Jose Maria; he deserved it, she said. But to think that a 
 girl of Mercedes' station should actually refuse to marry one 
 of "our family!" 
 
 She avoided another scene, for she had not enjoyed the first 
 one; but in two or three days after Jose Maria's departure 
 the handsome front doors opened and closed again on Mer- 
 cedes, and she went again to Dofia Susana's for shelter. 
 
 As Jose Maria has nothing more to do with this story I 
 will tell you here the little more that I know about him. 
 
 He has not yet married again. He pays little attention to 
 the young ladies, and some of his friends opine that he will 
 never marry again; but the young ladies hold a different 
 opinion about this much discussed question. They "think 
 more of him for not being in haste to marry. " They think his 
 devotion to his little son is "perfectly beautiful." He has 
 been heard to say that as soon as he is old enough he intends 
 
DUTY. 301 
 
 to bring him to the capital and keep him all the time with 
 himself. 
 
 He has become very religious, very religious, indeed. He 
 attends the entertainments in the theaters, the circuses and 
 the plaza de toros with great assiduity, and he is particularly 
 liberal when any of these are for the cause of religion. It 
 was in the Cathedral that I saw him. He was kneeling on a 
 silk handkerchief, his silk hat on his legs behind him, his 
 hands clasped, and his eyes upturned to an image. 
 
 Every year, on the anniversary of Magdalena's death, he 
 pays for a curious performance in the church which she 
 attended. Over the entrance are hung, and gracefully looped 
 back, black velvet curtains. Within, and forming a long 
 aisle that leads toward the high altar, are placed, alternately, 
 evergreen trees in boxes, and long and large candles in tall, 
 handsome candlesticks. In front of the altar, and extending 
 far up among the painted angels of the dome, is built a mau- 
 soleum. It appears to be made of brown stone, but, of 
 course, it is of wood or of s6me lighter material. On the 
 front, in large letters, is the name, "Magdalena." 
 
 When all these arrangements are completed masses are 
 sung at every altar by the priests in rich vestments. 
 
 All this is for the release of Magdalena's soul from pur- 
 gatory. 
 
302 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 .CHAPTER XXXIH. 
 
 "THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH." 
 
 TEODORO, as I have said, went to a small town in one of 
 the northern States to teach. He was well received by 
 the best people in the little town and the school began under 
 bright auspices. His salary was good and he soon began to 
 indulge in some little luxuries, especially in books which he 
 had long coveted. He had not been in the town long before he 
 heard that evangelical services were held there. He sought 
 the service hall; he was much pleased by what he saw and 
 heard, and afterwards attended regularly the two Sunday 
 services and the week-day prayer meeting. After some 
 weeks spent in examining the doctrines of the church in the 
 light of the Scriptures he became a member. He had never 
 had a church home before, nor had he ever known anything 
 of the communion of the saints. If he had not been sepa- 
 rated from Lupe so soon after his conversion it is probable 
 that he would not have been deprived so long of these privi- 
 leges. 
 
 When it became known that he attended the heretical meet- 
 ings two or three of the "best" families took their children 
 from the school. After he joined the church it became evi- 
 dent that he was far less popular with the others; but he was 
 a good teacher, a much better one than any other they had 
 had for some time and they did not like to lose this oppor- 
 tunity of having their boys well instructed at home. But 
 when, after the first year he "took to preaching," all but a 
 few of the youngest and poorest pupils left the school; then 
 Teodoro resigned, and it was closed. He had known all the 
 time what would be the consequences of his course, but he 
 was one of those people who will do their duty uncompro- 
 misingly and leave the consequences to God. 
 
"COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH." 303" 
 
 As to his call to preach the gospel, he said of it, as every 
 other true minister of the Word has said since the tune of 
 Paul: "Woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel." 
 
 Soon after he gave up the school he was employed by a 
 missionary society to take charge of the church in that town. 
 
 About this time he left the hotel and went to board in a* 
 private family. The wife of the master of the house, Refugio, 
 was a member of the church, and so was her mother, Dona 
 Benigna Cadena. The life in that orderly, Christian home 
 was like a foretaste of Paradise to Teodoro. 
 
 Dofia Benigna was of middle age; she was tall, .with plain 
 features and a kindly expression. Her black hair was always 
 parted in the middle and combed smoothly back from her 
 forehead; her dress was simple and scrupulously neat. She 
 was gentle and kindly in her judgments of others. She had 
 been trained to strict honesty and truthfulness in her child- 
 hood. "My mother," she would say, talking to her little 
 grandson, Pancho, "always told us children that if we found 
 anything in the street to take it into the house in front of 
 which we found it and ask if it belonged there. And if the 
 house was closed we were to lay it in the window. On no 
 account were we to keep it if it were no more than a pin, un- 
 less the owner could not be found." 
 
 She loved to tell of her conversion. The history of one's 
 conversion ! Is it not the new song which the believer sings 
 on the earth, a song which no man can learn save him to 
 whom the Lord teaches it? 
 
 Sitting around the dining table, when Refugio had removed 
 the plates, and the napkins on which they sat, she x told it 
 with much gesticulation to Teodoro one evening, soon after 
 he took up his abode in the house. 
 
 "It was about fourteen years ago," she said, "I lived in a lit- 
 tle town not far from Zacatecas. My husband was away from 
 home, working in the mines, and I and my daughter, Refugio, 
 lived in a house with another family. They were very kind 
 people. They were so kind they made me uncomfortable; 
 they would take my work and do it for me before I could get 
 
304 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 at it. They would get up early and get my breakfast and 
 bring it to me. It made me very much ashamed, and I told 
 them so, but I could never keep them from doing it. So at 
 last I said: 'You are so kind and good that I can't live with 
 you. ' So I went to the house of a near neighbor and rented 
 a room from them. Now they were Protestants, and I knew 
 it, but I didn't care for that. I thought I would let them 
 alone and they could let me alone. 
 
 "They did let me alone; they didn't say a word to me about 
 their religion, except one day when Dona Luz and I were in 
 the kitchen together (for we used the same kitchen), she said 
 to me: 'You are very good, Dona Benigna, and I like you very 
 much, but I think we can't eat together any longer.' Then I 
 .said: 'Why?' and she said: 'Because we like to ask a blessing 
 at the table, but you would not like that; so we will have to 
 eat separate.' Then I said: 'But why can't you ask a blessing 
 before me? I don't mind that. My father and mother always 
 asked a blessing both before and after the meals. ' There are 
 very few Catholics who do that, but my parents always did. 
 So after that we went on eating together. 
 
 ''The man, he was the preacher of the Protestants there, 
 and he had worship in the house where they lived. But I 
 never went in; I only heard them singing as I sat in my own 
 room. The first thing that touched my heart was a hymn. I 
 don't remember what hymn it was, but it was wonderful 
 sweet and tender. After that I began to go to hear the ser- 
 mon; then I began to ask about this new religion, and to com- 
 pare it with Romanism. I asked about it all, the mass, the 
 perpetual adoration, the priests, purgatory, and everything; 
 and they showed me that none of those things were taught in 
 the Sacred Scriptures. 
 
 "They offered me the Bible to read, but I wouldn't take it 
 because I thought I couldn't understand it. I remembered 
 when I saw the Bible that my mother had had a Bible when 
 I was a child, and that she and my father used to read it. It 
 was a large old book bound in leather, and there were leather 
 straps that buckled around it. But they never had any one 
 
* 'COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH." 305 
 
 to explain it to them, and I knew when the preacher and his 
 wife were explaining it to me that that was why my father 
 and mother always remained Catholics they never had any 
 one to explain the Bible to them. 
 
 'Well, there was something in my heart all the time that 
 wouldn't let me rest day nor night till I believed. O, my 
 conversion was wonderful! It was miraculous! The Lord" 
 just laid hold on me with his right hand and he wouldn't let 
 me go till I had submitted to him. And I did believe on him 
 after many weeks. 
 
 "My husband did not oppose my believing. After that I 
 took a long journey to bring home my daughter, for she was 
 at my father's house. When I reached there I told them 
 what had happened to me, and they were all very much trou- 
 bled; and my mother said that was the first stain of shame 
 that had fallen on any of her people. And she sai(f that was 
 what had befallen me,, because I had wandered in foreign 
 lands, instead of staying there in the ranch where generation 
 after generation of my people had lived and died. My father 
 came in, and when he heard about it he upbraided me very 
 much. One night I went out into my sister-in-law's room, 
 and while we were talking my mother came in and began to 
 talk about the new religion. She said I must give it up; and 
 when I told her I couldn't, she stood up and stretched out her 
 hand toward me and said: 'Unless thou wilt give it up thy 
 mother's curse shall rest on thee all the days of thy life.' 
 
 "That was awful, awful to me. It made me very much 
 afraid, too, for I thought there must be something in a 
 mother's curse. I took Ref ugio and went home. When I told 
 Dona Luz about my mother's curse she opened the Bible and 
 showed me where it is written that we must love the Lord 
 more than father or mother. At that word of the Lord peace 
 returned to my heart and I was comforted." 
 
 "What became of your husband?'' asked Teodoro gently, 
 for he knew he might be touching a tender chord. "Did he 
 believe also?" 
 
 "No," she replied very quietly, "he turned to the evil ways 
 
 20 
 
306 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 of the world. He refused to be married by the civil law; so 
 I took my daughter and came away." 
 
 Honesty and sincerity were written on every line of Teo- 
 doro's face. The people loved him, for he was lovable. He 
 believed in people; he believed what they said, and he attrib- 
 uted to them good motives. His faith in them inspired them 
 to be what he thought they were. 
 
 His voice in preaching was clear and sonorous; in con- 
 versation it was low and pleasant. And if "a low voice is 
 an excellent thing in woman," how much more excellent is it 
 in man! How it suggests refinement, kindliness, reserved 
 strength! 
 
 In his first efforts to preach he blundered and stammered 
 not a little. But the thought with which he himself after- 
 wards encouraged young converts to speak to the church of 
 what God had done for them helped him in those days: it 
 was that as the first lisped words of a little child are precious 
 to his parent, so are the first imperfect utterances of a child 
 of God precious to his Heavenly Father. 
 
 His thoughts were forcibly expressed and in pure and 
 simple language. And sometimes the thoughts were beau- 
 tiful; I remember that he said once in a sermon that the 
 words, "Jesus wept," were a poem. Both the ignorant and 
 cultured said: "How clearly he explains the gospel!" And 
 verily he did explain it like a man who had experienced the 
 power and sweetness of it. 
 
 When he was asked if he did not sometimes think with 
 regret of the career he might have had as a lawyer or 
 politician he looked up earnestly and replied with quiet 
 emphasis: "No, the calling of God is higher and more de- 
 sirable." "I could make more money," he said once, "by 
 devoting myself to another occupation; but I should not be 
 so happy. One who is called of God to preach the gospel 
 can never be satisfied when he is doing anything else. I 
 have often thought," he added, "that I should be happier if 
 I could work and support myself while I preach, but it is not 
 the Scripture plan, and therefore I can't do it." 
 
"COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH." 307 
 
 "I have great faith in private prayer," he said on another 
 occasion. "How many, how many prayers have I seen an- 
 swered!" 
 
 His patriotism was one of his conspicuous characteristics. 
 "May God save our country from that!" he would say some- 
 times, when a national sin or calamity was mentioned. 
 
 When one expressed appreciation of his sermon he would 
 reply quietly: "May it be for the glory of God." 
 
 He talked comparatively little, and he seldom, perhaps 
 never, jested, though his conversation was not infrequently 
 brightened by a quiet, refined humor. He would become 
 animated in the discussion of a great question or of a book 
 which pleased him. For the rest, he was humble and ear- 
 nest, persevering and enthusiastic, hopeful, joyful, and lov- 
 ing. Of course, his work was blessed. 
 
 Not long after he took charge of the church he received a 
 letter from Hernandez, which gave him some joyful news and 
 some sad news. In the first part of the letter he told him 
 jubilantly of his hopes of political preferment, and of his 
 engagement to be married to Tulis, the bright, gentle daugh- 
 ter of the Director of the college. Then the letter had been 
 interrupted, and two days afterward he continued thus: 
 
 "Could not finish until to-day. I have to tell you the sad 
 news that Ortega has lost his wife.- I attended the funeral 
 yesterday. Poor fellow! he seems quite cut up by it. It is 
 a heavy blow. " 
 
 When Teodoro had read that he clutched the letter tightly 
 and walked on with wide-open, unseeing eyes till he was out 
 of the town and among the hills. Some of the boys who saw 
 his face as he passed them, and noticed that he did not return 
 their salutations, said that "the master looked like he had 
 seen a ghost." He never knew how far he walked, nor where 
 he went, nor by what street he entered the town when he re- 
 turned; but he became conscious that toward the close of the 
 day he was sitting in his own room, with his arms on the 
 table and his head on his arms. 
 
 So it was all over at last. He had tried to quit thinking 
 
308 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 about her when he learned that she was to be married, and 
 married to his enemy. But he had not succeeded in forget- 
 ting her; he was continually wondering about her, continu- 
 ally fearing that she was unhappy. 
 
 And now she was dead. Was she happy now? She was so 
 gentle and good, maybe she knew the truth and had been 
 saved by it. There were people, he believed, in the Roman 
 Catholic Church who learned the truth through stray Bibles 
 and were saved by it, though the circumstances prevented 
 their ever coming out of that Babylon. O, if he only knew 
 it! if he only knew it! 
 
 Then there came a strange thrill of joy: she was no more 
 Ortega's now than his own. In the spirit world marriage 
 ties were dissolved and the petty social distinctions of earth 
 were swept away, and kindred of soul alone was considered. 
 He would hereafter every day of his life visit her grave and 
 lay flowers on it, but she would be nearer to him than when 
 she was living. 
 
 As the months passed his grief became milder, like that of 
 a husband who buries his young wife out of his sight, and 
 then through lonely years carries in his heart the loved 
 face a sanctifying memory. 
 
 So the weeks grew into months and the second year of his 
 life in the little northern town was nearing its end. 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 309 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 
 
 "Then while I live, and till I die, 
 And all my life I'll fondly try, 
 With all my soul, to bless thee." 
 
 |NE evening the family were sitting for awhile, as usual, 
 around the table in the dining room after the dishes 
 had been ' removed. Refugio was resting her hands, tired 
 from sewing, on the table. Simon, her husband, was whit- 
 tling a toy for Pancho, while Dona Benigna was trying to 
 persuade that young gentleman to read over his lesson so as 
 to know it well for the morrow. The young pastor had 
 taken out of his pocket and spread out before him the Catholic 
 daily, El Tiempo, and was busy with a long article on ' 'The 
 Policy of the Holy. See and the Catholic Party in Mexico," 
 when he caught the name "Urbina'' Simon was saying: 
 
 ' 'They say Don Francisco Urbina recommended her. " 
 
 Teodoro kept his eyes on the paper, but he listened. Any- 
 thing that concerned Mercedes or "her people" was sadly 
 interesting to him. 
 
 "I shouldn't be surprised," said Dofia Benigna, "if she was 
 the girl who taught in his family for so long. What was 
 her name?" 
 
 "I didn't notice the name." 
 
 "Was it Mercedes Gonzales?" 
 
 "Y-e-s, I believe it was. Yes, I remember now; that was 
 the name." 
 
 * 'She is the girl. When I visited Cipriana Vega in Salta 
 she told me about her. Cipriana is her godmother." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Teodoro. "Excuse me; I didn't cateh 
 the first part of your conversation. " 
 
 "It was nothing of importance. They told me to-day in 
 L. that Don Francisco Urbina had recommended a teacher for 
 
310 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 their government school, a young lady from Salta, and they 
 had employed her on his recommendation; and mother says 
 she is the young lady who was governess in his family for 
 some time." 
 
 "They seemed to think a great deal of her at first," said 
 Dofia Benigna. "They carried her to Mexico to teach the chil- 
 dren while they were there. But I have heard since let me 
 see who told me that, why the wife of Polycarp Duran, who 
 came from Salta to see her daughter when she had the fever, 
 three months ago, wasn't it, Refugio? or four months? I 
 believe it was three months ago that Don Francisco's wife 
 dismissed her because she believed the gospel; though she 
 did say they took her back again afterwards." 
 
 All of that was interesting to Teodoro because it was about 
 a "sister," and because she was some one who lived near the 
 Mercedes he loved. It was pleasant to talk about it, and 
 they would never suspect his feelings, he thought. 
 
 "Sefior Urbina had a daughter named Mercedes, I believe?" 
 and he stared very hard at the paper and clinched his hand 
 so tightly under the table that there was danger that the 
 nails would cut into the flesh. 
 
 "No, he had no daughter by that name. No; he has one 
 daughter in a convent in France; her name is Ursula. An- 
 other one died a long time ago; I don't know what her name 
 was; it may have been Mercedes, now. Then there was his 
 grown daughter named Magdalena; she married somebody 
 from Mexico and died nearly a year ago, and the little ones 
 are named 
 
 "I thought the one who married Ortega of Mexico was 
 named Mercedes the one who died," he sat erect, staring 
 with stern eyes and with an expression that seemed to say he 
 would make those people tell him the truth if it killed them. 
 
 ' 'No, her name was Magdalena. I know, for when I lived 
 in Salta, before Refugio was married, I sewed for Dofia 
 Flavia, Don Francisco's wife, and Refugio did drawn work for 
 her; she liked it very much and always paid well for it 
 
 But Teodoro had pushed back his chair and risen suddenly 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 311 
 
 and stalked through the door and through the court and into 
 the street. 
 
 "Why, what is the matter with him?" exclaimed Refugio, 
 "I never saw him act so before." 
 
 Teodoro wanted to get out where he could breathe. Sud- 
 den joy has killed people. There were two clear thoughts hi 
 his mind as he turned his face toward the calm stars: "She 
 was living, and she was not Ortega's wife. " 
 
 So the people felt in the days of our Lord on earth when 
 their dead came back to life. So the sisters of Lazarus felt; 
 so the widow of Nain; nay, so Isaac would have felt if after 
 he had learned to love Rebecca she had fallen on sleep and 
 then awaked to life and come back to him. Teodoro's soul 
 sang and shouted: "Thou hast given her back; thou hast 
 given me back my dead!" 
 
 It was long before another thought came to him, but at 
 last he remembered the mention of the governess of that 
 name. He recalled every tune he had seen her; he remem- 
 bered how simply she was always dressed; he remembered 
 that no one had ever told him that this young lady was a 
 daughter of Senor Urbina; he saw how it all was, now; but 
 he longed to be assured by the voice of another. 
 
 Early the next morning as Dona Benigna was winding in 
 and out of some cane lattice work some stray tendrils of the 
 vine that she was training on it, he came out and essayed to 
 help her; but his fingers, usually so helpful, were unaccount- 
 ably clumsy this morning. 
 
 "Dona Benigna," he said, "you say there was a governess 
 in the family of Senor Urbina when they were in Mexico, and 
 that her name was Mercedes Gonzales?" 
 
 "Yes, so they told me," she replied, looking at him curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "And you say she has believed the gospel?" That was an- 
 other assurance that he wanted to hear again. 
 "Yes, that was what they said." 
 
 ' 'Do you know anything else about her?" 
 
 'Well, yes; I asked^ about her because she was a sister hi 
 
312 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 Christ, you know. Her history is an uncommon one. They 
 said she was the daughter of one of Don Francisco's peons, 
 but a German lady noticed that she was a bright girl, and she 
 educated her and afterwards got her this place in Don Fran- 
 cisco's family." 
 
 "And after she believed the gospel they turned her off 
 and then took her back again," he said, taking up the nar- 
 rative where she dropped it, and looking at her keenly as if 
 he were a detective. 
 
 44 Yes, but I suppose they want to get rid of her again, as he 
 has gotten her this school. Come, Refugio says breakfast is 
 ready," and at the table they talked of other matters. 
 
 "Why might I not win her?" he said to himself, tremulous 
 with the thought. "If I could only know her, there might 
 be hope." 
 
 As he went on thinking of this, some other facts were sug- 
 gested to his mind. He knew the people of the town where 
 she was to teach; there was not a little fanaticism there 
 among the Catholics; he knew that the Board of Directors 
 could not have been induced even through Senor Urbina's 
 influence to employ an an ti- Catholic teacher if they had 
 known that fact. They would soon find it out and dismiss 
 her, and that would be very mortifying and painful to her. 
 It would be better for them to know it beforehand and not 
 employ her. 
 
 On the other hand, the Protestants of his own town had 
 been for some tune trying to find a teacher. The salary 
 would not be more than half as large, nor the position by any 
 means so honorable in the eyes of the world as those offered 
 by the government school in L. But would it not be better 
 for her in the end to take this place? If his own feelings had 
 not been so deeply enlisted he would not have hesitated to 
 write to the young lady and advise her to resign that place 
 and accept this more humble one. But now he feared to do 
 so. How did he know what she would think about it? And 
 if she should come to suspect that he had any personal in- 
 terest in the arrangement it might be fatal to his hopes. 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 313 
 
 And besides all that, there were compromising Protestants 
 who could adapt themselves very well to the Catholics and 
 get along with them admirably. But he rejected the thought 
 instantly that she could not be of those. If it could only 
 be brought about somehow without his having anything to do 
 with it; or at least without her knowing that he had anything 
 to do with it! 
 
 Now he had been intending for some weeks to go over to 
 L. to attend to a little business. Why might he not go now, 
 and it might be arranged ' 'somehow"? At any rate fair and 
 open dealing would be best for all concerned. He resolved 
 to go; but because of his own interest in the matter his sus- 
 ceptible nature suffered as if he were about to do a mean 
 action. He explained it to Simon and the rest of the family, 
 of course suppressing all mention of his own interests and 
 scruples, and they fully agreed with him. But he felt as if 
 he had confessed a crime. 
 
 After that he tried to persuade Simon to go and manage in 
 an off-hand way to break the intelligence to the Board; but 
 as he had no business in L. he could not see why he should 
 go and mix himself up in this unpleasant business; why 
 couldn't Teodoro do it himself; he had heard him say that he 
 had to go to L. soon, anyhow. So there was no avoiding it; 
 he went. 
 
 He attended to his business; he went around to the book- 
 store and bought a book or two that he needed; he called at 
 the houses of some of the humble brethren of the place and 
 talked to them and encouraged them in their poverty and 
 trials with promises of Scripture; he took a New Testament 
 from his pocket and read to one woman who was an unbe- 
 liever and warned her solemnly of the destruction that threat- 
 ened her; he did everything that could be expected of him 
 rather than go about the Palacio Municipal, where he knew 
 he should find one or more of the Board. But at last it could 
 be put off no longer. About a half an hour before train time 
 he went up to the Palacio. He met two or three of the Board 
 whom he knew. He talked with them about the weather, 
 
314 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO 
 
 
 
 politics anything rather than school matters, till he had to 
 shake hands with them, put himself at their orders and rush 
 off to the train. As he sank back in the seat of the narrow 
 gauge car he could not have told whether he was glad or 
 sorry that he had not mentioned it. 
 
 He sat looking out of the window at the mountains as they 
 flew past him, when a hearty voice at his side exclaimed: 
 
 "Ah, Martinez, how do you do? Glad to see you." 
 
 He sprang up to shake hands with his friend, Don Dionicio 
 Torres, not a member of the School Board, indeed, but a 
 man who was interested in the matter, as he had children to 
 educate. They sat down and talked awhile. Presently Don 
 Dionicio said: 
 
 "This question of schools is a troublesome one. We have 
 just employed a teacher who is very highly recommended by 
 Don Francisco Urbina of Salta, but I have been told she is a 
 Protestant. That wouldn't matter to me, you know," he said 
 courteously, remembering to whom he was talking, "but it 
 won't suit some of our people, the mothers of the young 
 people, for instance," he added scornfully. 
 
 "Who is the teacher?" asked Teodoro, not knowing what 
 else to say. 
 
 "She is a young lady who taught for some time in the 
 family of Sefior - Urbina; Mercedes Gonzales is her name. 
 Maybe you know her, or know of her? They tell me you 
 Protestants are great people to hang together." 
 
 "I have heard of her," replied Teodoro almost faintly. 
 
 "Do you know whether she really is a Protestant? It's 
 better for our Board to know it beforehand. You know what 
 their fanatical senoms will make them do when they find it out. 
 You know how they broke up that fine school of yours. It's 
 a pity women can't get something in their heads besides 
 religion!" 
 
 "I know y-e-s, that she is not a Catholic." 
 
 "Well, you will forgive me, old fellow, if I tell the Board. 
 It's best, you know. For my part, as they say she is a good 
 teacher, I wish they would employ her anyhow." 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 315 
 
 When Teodoro was saying good-bye, as the train ap- 
 proached his station, he said: 
 
 ' 'Will you please drop me a card as soon as the Board de- 
 cides about the Sefiorita Gonzales? The Protestants here 
 want a teacher and I think we might give her the place." 
 
 "I will, with pleasure," replied Don Dionicio. 
 
 So the matter was settled; but Teodoro wished, as he ex- 
 plained it to them at supper that evening, that he had not said 
 anything about it before. 
 
 After a few days of feverish anxiety lest the Board should 
 employ her anyhow for anything seemed possible to him 
 that would separate him from her, even to the Pope's order- 
 ing everybody to read the Bible, if that would have that 
 effect he received a card saying that the Board had dis- 
 pensed with the Sefiorita Gonzales' services. Then he in- 
 duced a member of his congregation to write to her, request- 
 ing her to teach their little school. He would not write him- 
 self, for delicacy forbade his making her feel that she was 
 under obligations to him for the slightest thing. 
 
 There were more feverish days of waiting, then came her 
 letter, saying she would come gladly. 
 
 Then Teodoro astonished the family by telling them he 
 would give up his room to Mercedes and find another place to 
 board. No, they must not protest; it would be a great favor 
 to him, and it was the most suitable place in town *or her. 
 As she was to come in three or four days he moved imme- 
 diately. 
 
 But he did not move everything. He selected some of his 
 favorite books and placed them on the small shelves in the 
 corner. He even ventured to suggest some improvement in 
 the room. One of the doors dragged badly on the tiles of the 
 floor; it could be made shorter so it would close easily. 
 There was no window; he had always been satisfied with the 
 light from the narrow iron-barred transom over the door, but 
 perhaps it would be better to have some panes of glass put 
 into the tops of the folding doors. He would pay for it if 
 Simon would permit it. So it was done. He objected that 
 
316 MERCEDES, A STORY OP MEXICO. 
 
 the table was too tall for a young lady to write on; his 
 table, now, would suit her much better. If Refugio would 
 let him exchange he would leave it here and take this one to 
 his room. So that also was done. But he capped the climax 
 when he sent up a little rocking chair. 
 
 Dona Benigna only expressed the astonishment and curi- 
 osity of the whole family when on the afternoon that Mer- 
 cedes was to arrive, as he stood in the door of the room, after 
 having inspected everything, and fastidiously rearranged 
 some books and a pair of vases with some flowers that 
 Refugio had put in there: 
 
 * 'Brother, is it only the friendship of friends that is be- 
 tween you?" 
 
 "I," replied Teodoro, with slightly heightened color, "I 
 don't know the young lady. I have only seen her, but she is 
 a sister^ in Christ, and we ought to try to make everything 
 comfortable and pleasant for her. " And the good woman had 
 to be satisfied with that; and she knew he was good enough 
 and had brotherly love enough in his heart to do all that for 
 a woman who was twice as old as himself. But he strictly 
 charged each and all of them not on any account to let the. 
 young lady know that he had had anything to do with the ar- 
 rangement of the room. 
 
 When the hour came for the arrival of the train he walked 
 down to the station with Dofia Benigna and Pancho. But he 
 was not to go back with them; he could not meet her that 
 night; he only wanted to see her. 
 
 He stood near a lamp post when the train thundered up 
 and stopped. He saw her as she descended; he recognized 
 the slender figure in the dark dress, with the black shawl 
 drawn over her head and thrown over her left shoulder. He 
 heard her low, musical voice as she answered Dofia Benigna's 
 question: "Yes, Sefiora, I am Mercedes Gonzales." His 
 head grew so hot that he. took off his hat to let the night air 
 cool it. 
 
 As he stood thus they passed him, and Mercedes, happen- 
 ing to glance up, saw his face clearly in the light of the 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 317 
 
 lamp. Their eyes met. She started violently, then hurried 
 on. It was the very face, the very one, that she had thought 
 of so frequently, and with a strange curiosity and tenderness 
 for nearly two years. She had thought of it especially in 
 these last three weeks as the face of some one who for some 
 reason thought kindly of her. He wanted her sympathy! 
 Ah, how she needed his, or some one's ! She wondered vaguely 
 if he were a believer, for that was always her first thought 
 about one in whom she was interested. 
 
 When they reached the house she sat down a few minutes 
 in the parlor with Dona Benigna, till Refugio should light 
 the lamp in her own room. It was a long, large room. The 
 tile floor was scrupulously clean. In each of the two corners 
 near the door were corner tables. On one of them was a 
 large plaster of Paris cat with the most phenominal spots 
 imaginable; on the other was a box covered with shells and 
 a few other ornaments which Simon had probably given to 
 Refugio in their courting days. In another corner was a 
 white plaster of Paris pedestal on which sat a gilded bust of 
 Juarez, and in the other corner was a corresponding pedestal 
 with a bust of Hidalgo. On one side of the room was a table 
 over which hung a looking glass in a wooden frame. Around 
 three sides of the room, standing against the walls and as 
 near together as possible, were chairs with rush bottoms. 
 In an unbroken line they stood except where they were 
 obliged to skip the before -mentioned table and pedestals. 
 Subsequent observation revealed the fact to Mercedes that 
 there were thirty-six of these chairs. Chairs, tables and 
 frames were shining with paint. On the walls were a few 
 cheap and highly colored pictures. This parlor was Ref ugio's 
 especial delight. 
 
 Mercedes was very much surprised at her own room. She 
 was much touched, too, when Dofia Benigna said: "We tried 
 to make it pleasant for you because you are a sister." 
 
 After she had eaten her supper and gone back to her room 
 for the night she went around it, looking at everything. 
 She lingered longest, of course, before the book shelves. 
 
318 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 taking down the books and looking at them, Who in that 
 house read those books, she wondered. There were some of 
 Castelar's and Altamirano's; there was a translation of 
 Shakespeare, and some translations from French, such as 
 "Paul and Virginia" and "Picciola." There was no name in 
 any of the books, but from some of them the name had been 
 carefully erased. 
 
 The next day Teodoro was invited to dine with them. His 
 introduction to Mercedes was the most commonplace thing in 
 the world. When he came into the dining room she was 
 standing there, in a simple, light, summer dress, her glossy, 
 black hair parted and smoothly combed back as she always 
 wore it. "Brother," said Dona Benigna, "this is the teacher. 
 Mercedes, this is our minister, the pastor of the church." 
 
 He took her hand for a moment, saying, as he looked into 
 her eyes: 
 
 "Teodoro Martinez, at your orders." 
 
 "Thank you,'' she replied, simply. 
 
 Neither of them could talk very much during this first 
 meeting, and Simon and Ref ugio were never great talkers, so 
 that Dona Benigna found herself with the burden of conver- 
 sation on her shoulders. I don't know how she came to 
 speak of banditti, but presently she was saying, in reply to a 
 question of Teodoro's, for he had felt that he must say some- 
 thing: 
 
 "O, yes, Don Sotero was a noted bandit. Everybody knew 
 about him. He was not just anybody, either; he belonged 
 to a rich and highly respectable family. He was the only one 
 of them that ever went wrong. He was rich himself; why 
 he had houses and lands of his own. He was a bandit just 
 because he liked the danger and adventure of it. He was a 
 very handsome young man, they said. He was captain of the 
 band. They had their headquarters in . the ranch of R. 
 By seven o'clock all the honest people had to be in their 
 houses, with the doors shut, and the ranch was given up to 
 the banditti, and they drank and danced and fought and killed 
 till morning. They would go off on robbing expeditions and 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. . 319 
 
 come back with great loads of plunder, and nobody dared say 
 a word. But at last the President sent General M. , with a 
 band of soldiers well armed, and they surrounded the ranch 
 and captured them all and killed them all but Don Sotero; 
 he'was not there." 
 
 "What became of Don Sotero?" asked Mercedes. 
 
 "They caught him afterwards; he was betrayed by a woman 
 who knew where he was, and they hanged him in the door. 
 But they said it was awful hard to kill some of those bandits. " 
 
 Teodoro observed Mercedes grasp her knife more closely, 
 and he wished he could change the subject of conversation, 
 but he was helpless just because of her presence. 
 
 "Another awful murder, worse than that one, happened in 
 this State a few years ago," went on the worthy matron, still 
 moved by the hospitable desire to entertain her guests. 
 "Why the bandits cut off the head of one man and cut out the 
 tongue of another. But I have forgotten the particulars." 
 
 Then, as she paused, Teodoro aroused himself at last and 
 said: 
 
 ' 'Well, Senorita, the school will begin Monday, will it?" 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so. Just as the patrons please, of course." 
 
 "I think you will have twenty pupils at least. The school- 
 room is not so nice as you have been accustomed to, I know; 
 but we have made it as neat and comfortable as we could. " 
 
 "I haye no doubt I shall like it. I am very grateful to 
 you all." 
 
 Then Simon thought of something to say: 
 
 "I expect after all you'll like it better than teaching in L. 
 I was afraid at first when Teodoro broke that up and had you 
 come here that you wouldn't be pleased with the change; 
 specially as the salary is not more than half as large." 
 
 Poor Teodoro ! If all the poles and canes and earth of the 
 roof had fallen on his head it would not have been much more 
 overwhelming. He could say nothing, and nobody found 
 anything to say for, it seemed, a very long time. Mercedes 
 was too much surprised and confused by the new thought, and 
 Dona Benigna was too much chagrined to make any reply. 
 
320 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Refugio thought it must have been the right thing to say 
 since Simon had said it. After some moments Dona Beaigna 
 remarked to Mercedes: 
 
 "The brother thought that you would prefer to be among 
 believers here, rather than with the Catholics. For they are 
 said to be quite fanatical in L. They wouldn't have borne 
 with a believer long. " 
 
 ''I have no doubt,'' said Mercedes pleasantly, anxious to 
 relieve Teodoro, "that it will be much more pleasant here." 
 
 Then they went on talking of other matters till the dinner 
 was over; and very soon after dinner Teodoro excused him- 
 self on the plea that he had some writing to do. 
 
 Mercedes escaped to her own room to study over this new 
 phase of the subject. He had had her come here. Had it 
 any connection with his strange interest in her in Mexico? 
 Then Refugio had let slip the information that he had boarded 
 with them "until well, until a few days ago, in fact," and 
 then the good little woman had looked frightened as if she 
 had told something she ought not to have mentioned. 
 
 Was that a clew to the mystery of this room, to the taste 
 with which the things were arranged, to the books, especially? 
 It was kind and thoughtful of him. not to let her go to L. 
 From that day she began to love him. 
 
 But Teodoro wondered all the afternoon if he should ever 
 feel like smiling again. 
 
 The next Monday the school opened. It was in a small room 
 on the principal street. In the center of the room sat a long 
 and wide table, on either side of which was a bench. They 
 were the only seats in the room, except the chair for the 
 teacher. Here on these high benches sat the children swing- 
 ing their feet, spelling books and reading books in hand, 
 studying aloud, vying with each other in the exercise of their 
 lungs, for such is the custom of the country. They were not 
 barefooted children; they always wore shoes, though they 
 were frequently without stockings. Every morning the 
 teacher read a chapter of the Bible and they sang a hymn, 
 ' 'What a friend we have in Jesus, " or ' 'How firm a foundation, " 
 or "Little children who love their Redeemer, "or some other. 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 321 
 
 It was marvelous how often in those days Teodoro's visiting 
 and other duties took him by that noisy little schoolroom. 
 Sometimes, when Mercedes lingered, after all the childrens 
 were gone but Pancho to finish the work of the day or pre- 
 pare some exercises for the morrow, Teodoro would drop in 
 and ask some questions about the school and hope she was 
 enjoying the work. More than once when she looked up 
 suddenly and saw him standing in the door her face had 
 brightened suddenly with gratitude or something sweeter. 
 But Teodoro was afraid to believe what his eyes saw. 
 
 But those calls at the schoolroom were necessarily infre- 
 quent and quite short. He often called at Simon's house and 
 talked with her in Dona Benigna's presence. They found 
 that their tastes about other things as well as religion were 
 similar. They would have been happy in those days if each 
 could have been certain quite certain that he was loved by 
 the other. But people in that state of mind are very liable 
 to misunderstand each other. Every now and then there was 
 a misunderstanding which was painful enough for both while 
 it lasted, and let them know the joy of reconciliation when a 
 glance, a word, a smile and bow, or something else of like 
 dimensions bridged over the fearful chasm. 
 
 One afternoon, after Mercedes had been with them about two 
 months, there was a small social gathering at Simon's house. 
 It happened that the young Methodist preacher was moved 
 that day to talk a good deal to Mercedes. This was very dis- 
 tressing to Teodoro, and he tried in vain, by passing fruit to 
 Mercedes, and by other little courtesies, to attract her atten- 
 tion and induce her to turn from the Methodist brother and 
 devote herself to him. Mercedes understood his motives, 
 but she didn't know very well how to get rid of her compan- 
 ion. Presently Teodoro was driven by despair and resent- 
 ment to sit down by the silver-tongued Gaudencia and engage 
 in conversation with her, not deigning again to glance toward 
 Mercedes. After that she, hurt by his neglect, took pains to 
 show him that she liked Gaudencia as well as any of the 
 other girls, or better. But she cried nearly all night for fear 
 21 
 
322 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Teodoro liked Gaudencia better than he liked her. That 
 trouble between them lasted for a week. 
 
 It was a month after this that Teodoro planned an excur- 
 sion to a cave that was about five miles from the town. 
 About two dozen persons went in hacks.. I am sorry to have 
 to report that Teodoro did not invite the Methodist preacher; 
 not that that gentleman was aggrieved by the neglect, or 
 even thought of it; but because of the lack of willingness to 
 do so on Teodoro' s part. But he was punished, as he felt r 
 for that, and many other shortcomings. 
 
 As he sat in the hack with Dona Benigna, Mercedes, Gau- 
 dencia, and two or three children, something brought up the 
 subject of Mercedes' not having gone to L., and Teodoro re- 
 ceived a more severe blow than the one that Simon had given 
 him at first. It had always been a sore subject for him. 
 He could reason about it and come to the conclusion that, of 
 course, Mercedes would rather be where she was, with be- 
 lievers, than in L., even if she could have stayed there; but 
 she had never said so to him, and her failure to do so hurt 
 him. 
 
 Mercedes had wanted a hundred times to say it, but she 
 felt that saying that would be the same thing under the cir- 
 cumstances as telling him that she was glad to be near him; 
 and, of course, she could not do that. 
 
 When they drew up in the midst of the wild, picturesque 
 scenery at the foot of the mountain, left the hacks and began 
 the steep ascent to the dark hole, the mouth of the cave that 
 gaped far up toward the summit, Teodoro assisted Dona 
 Benigna, as it was his duty to do. 
 
 They reached the opening, and sat down for awjiile on the 
 stones to rest; then they entered and began the exploration 
 of the chambers. 
 
 Not far from the entrance, the first time they had to descend 
 from one chamber to another, Teodoro helped down all the 
 women, and Mercedes was the last one. She stood above him 
 and looked down at him; their eyes met and their hands 
 touched. After that he thought no more of Dofia Benigna, 
 nor of the other women, nor of the Methodist preacher. 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 323 
 
 On and on they went, up and down the steep places, and 
 from chamber to chamber. Sometimes, when the others 
 were not near they went hand in hand; sometimes he drew 
 her hand into his arm, holding it closely. They spoke few 
 words; they only looked at each other by the light of their 
 flickering candles. They noticed neither stalactite nor stalag- 
 mite; they stood in the room where the white stone woman 
 clasps the child in her arms, and the light shines down on her 
 through the top of the mountain, and they saw nothing of it, 
 cared nothing about it. 
 
 At last they reached before the others the Chamber of 
 Glory. It was here that a thought grew too strong for 
 Teodoro, and he stood up very straight, with his face turned 
 a little away from her, and said in a low tone, through whicb 
 she heard the cry of pain : 
 
 "O, Mercedes, you know how I love you; won't you saj 
 you forgive me?" 
 
 Then her candle slipped from her hand and she clasped it 
 over his as she held her other hand closely on his arm, and 
 throwing back her head she looked up into his face and ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 "No, Teodoro, I won't say I forgive you. How could I use 
 such a word to you; I love you." 
 
 He pressed one kiss on her lips, and then they heard the 
 others coming, and, laughing softly; they caught up her can- 
 dle and lighted it. 
 
 So they went on through the cave and returned to the 
 mouth of it, and sat down just inside and rested, and ate sup- 
 per. Then down the mountain and to the town. And when 
 Teodoro lifted Mercedes from the hack at Simon's door Dofia 
 Benigna heard him whisper, "Mi alma," and she knew the 
 whole story. 
 
 They were married a few weeks later. Mercedes wore a 
 simple white dress, which Teodoro had bought, and in her 
 black hair some white flowers, which he had selected. Every- 
 one of the thirty-six chairs in Simon's parlor was occupied 
 that evening, and there were some who stood up, for the 
 
324 MERCEDES, A STORY OF MEXICO. 
 
 Methodist brethren and sisters were there, as well as Teo- 
 doro's own people. After the civil judge had married them 
 the Methodist preacher who, by the way, had never had any 
 idea of Teodoro's jealousy of himself, and who could have 
 assured him, if he had been interviewed, that he liked Gau- 
 dencia better than Mercedes prayed that their union might 
 be a blessing to themselves and to the world that lay in the 
 darkness of error around them. 
 
 During the evening Teodoro and the Methodist preacher 
 were observed to cordially embrace each other. The hos- 
 pitable Simon and Refugio served a merienda of chocolate and 
 cake; and during the merienda they consulted together about 
 another teacher for the school. 
 
 They went to housekeeping soon. It was here that Don 
 Francisco found them one day, having stopped for the pur- 
 pose, and inquired and found out the house. He sat and 
 talked with them an hour or two; and Mercedes observed, 
 with an aching heart, that he looked older and more care- 
 worn. As he told them good-bye he stood, with his hand on 
 her shoulder, and said to Teodoro, in his pleasant, dignified 
 way, that he was glad so worthy a young man had won Mer- 
 cedes, for he should always have something of the interest 
 of a father in her. And she, looking up into his face, saw, 
 as he turned away his head, that it was convulsed with feel- 
 ing, and she ^:new that he w r as thinking of Magdalena. Then 
 they said adios meaning it and they watched him as he 
 went down the street in the golden sunlight. In a few 
 days there came to Mercedes, from Don Francisco, a beauti- 
 ful writing desk; "a wedding present," he said it was in the 
 note which he wrote about it, "though it came late." . 
 
 They had been married about three months when one after- 
 noon Teodoro, walking with a joyful step along the street, 
 came to the door of a humble house. Some children, seeing 
 him before the door, bounded toward him, and seizing his 
 hands led him through the court to the door of a room where 
 sat three or four women, and Mercedes in the midst of them 
 with an open New Testament in her hand. She had just read 
 
THE END WHICH WAS THE BEGINNING. 325 
 
 and explained to them how that a great king made a marriage 
 feast for his son and sent forth and called them that were 
 bidden; and they would not come; and again he sent and 
 called, and they would not come; and then he sent into the 
 highways and called others and they came; and when the 
 king came in to see the guests he found one who had not on 
 a wedding garment; and he, having nothing to respond, was 
 bound hand and foot and cast into outer darkness. 
 
 Teodoro entered and shook hands with them all, and sat 
 down; and taking the book from Mercedes' hand he added a 
 few words of exortation; then he said: "Let us have a word 
 of prayer." and they all knelt down and followed him in 
 prayer. When they had risen up he stood a few minutes by 
 Mercedes' side talking; then, dropping his hand gently on 
 her shoulder, he said, looking down at her: 
 
 "Come, Mercedes, it is time to go home. We must have 
 supper early, you know; it is prayer meeting night." 
 
 "Yes, I was Just thinking of that," she replied as she 
 looked up at him with a bright face; then, tossing her black 
 shawl over her shoulder, she arose. They shook hands with 
 the women and went out and down the street, side by side, 
 toward their home. 
 
 THE END. 
 
H" 
 
863 
 
 Hl6m Hale, Sarah 
 MERCEDES, 
 
 863 
 Hl6m