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Updated: June 7, 2025
One thing only was to be said, and he said it. "I can give you no explanation," he murmured. But Buelna suddenly interposed. "Oh, please," she said, pushing by Felipe, "uncle, we have talked too long. Please let us go. There is only one explanation. Is it not enough already?" "By God, it is not!" vociferated the old man, turning upon Felipe. "Tell me what it means. Tell me what this means."
"Off my rancho, and in the future pray your God, or the devil, to whom you are sold, to keep you far from me." "You do not understand, you do not understand," pleaded Felipe, the tears starting to his eyes. "Oh, believe me, I speak the truth. I love your niece. I love Buelna. Oh, never so truly, never so devoutly as now. Let me speak to her; she will believe me."
"An ill-timed one, then." "No," answered Felipe, "it is not a jest." "But, Felipe," murmured Buelna. "But why I do not understand." "I think I begin to," cried Martiarena. "Senor, you do not," protested Felipe. "It is not to be explained. I know what you believe. On my honour, I love Buelna." "Your actions give you the lie, then, young man. Bah! Nonsense. What fool's play is all this?
At the end of that time he had remembered her had awakened to the fact that his infatuation for Rubia was infatuation, and had resolved to end the affair and go back to Buelna as soon as it was possible. But Rubia was quick to notice the cooling of his passion. First she fixed him with oblique suspicion from under her long lashes, then avoided him, then kept him at her side for days together.
The organ ceased, and in the stillness that followed all could hear that furious gallop. On it came, up the hill, into the courtyard. Then a shout, hurried footsteps, the door swung in, and Felipe Arillaga, ragged, dripping, half fainting, hatless and stained with mud, sprang toward Buelna.
But Buelna, weeping, had ridden on. A fortnight passed. Soon a month had gone by. Felipe gloomed about his rancho, solitary, taciturn, siding the sheep-walks and cattle-ranges for days and nights together, refusing all intercourse with his friends. It seemed as if he had lost Buelna for good and all.
Kiss him, Buelna, and have done with it." Felipe gnawed his nails. "Believe me, oh, believe me, Senor Martiarena, it must not be." "Then an explanation." For a moment Felipe hesitated. But how could he tell them the truth the truth that involved Rubia and his disloyalty, temporary though that was. They could neither understand nor forgive. Here, indeed, was an impasse.
He half believed in curses, had seen two-headed calves born because of them, and sheep stampeded over cliffs for no other reason. Now, as he drew out of Pacheco Pass and came down into the valley the idea of Rubia and her curse troubled him. At first, when yet three days' journey from Buelna, it had been easy to resolve to brave it out.
There had been a time, three months past, when Felipe found no compulsion in the admission, for though betrothed to Buelna Martiarena he had abruptly conceived a violent infatuation for Rubia, and had remained a guest upon her rancho many weeks longer than he had intended. For three months he had forgotten Buelna entirely.
Then at last his defection unmistakable turned on him with furious demands for the truth. Felipe had snatched occasion with one hand and courage with the other. "Well," he had said, "well, it is not my fault. Yes, it is the truth. It is played out." He had not thought it necessary to speak of Buelna; but Rubia divined the other woman. "So you think you are to throw me aside like that.
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