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Updated: June 7, 2025
The orders of the judge had already been communicated to the chief of police and the warden of the prison. Even at this hour the news had spread throughout the city and idlers were gathering to see the rich and beautiful woman who would ascend the scaffold. I still clung to the slender hope that Gabriela and Blanca were not the same person.
Perhaps she may be able to give you some information in regard to Gabriela." "You are right," answered Zarco, rising. He put a revolver in his pocket, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out. Two hours later he returned. I saw at once by his face that some great happiness must have come to him.
In spite of the hopes of my friend, Gabriela was not found, and three months later she was, according to the laws of Spain, tried, found guilty, and condemned to death in her absence. I returned home, not without promising to be with Zarco the following year. That winter I passed in Granada. One evening I had been invited to a great ball given by a prominent Spanish lady.
Her extended family had been a mixture of Germans and German-Argentineans, a passionate and passionless crowd who often did not know if they should call her Gabriela or Gabriele and so they had been reluctant to say anything at all to her. She kissed her son on the forehead but this action provoked vehement cries of cacophony.
My suffering was frightful, but I could say nothing, do nothing without compromising the judge; besides, I was not sure. Even if I were positive that Gabriela and Blanca were the same person, what could my unfortunate friend do? Feign a sudden illness? Flee the country? My only way was to keep silent and let God work it out in His own way.
I did not answer. A horrible suspicion had been growing within me, a suspicion which, like some infernal animal, was tearing at my heart with claws of steel. Could Gabriela and Blanca be one and the same? I turned to the assistant district attorney. "By the way," I asked, "where was Gabriela when she was arrested?" "In the Hotel of the Lion."
As soon as the signatures and seals upon the document had been verified by the authorities, the priest and the judge rushed to the accused to undo the cords which bound her hands and arms and to revive her. All their efforts were useless, however. Gabriela Zahara was dead. The Deposition "I know nothing at all about it, your honor!" "Nothing at all? How can that be?
He put his arms about me and embraced me convulsively, exclaiming: "Oh, dear friend, if you only knew, if you only knew!" "But I don't know anything," I answered. "What on earth has happened to you?" "I'm simply the happiest man in the world!" "But what is it?" "The note that called me to the hotel was from her." "But from whom? From Gabriela Zahara?" "Oh, stop such nonsense!
The judge half rose from his chair and extended his hands beseechingly, but she looked at him as if to say: "Be careful! You will betray yourself, and it will do no good." He sank back into his chair, and Gabriela continued her story in a quiet, firm voice: "I was forced to marry a man I hated. I hated him more after I married him than I did before. I lived three years in martyrdom.
* In the month of July, Philip king of Spain dying, in the sixty-third year of his age, was succeeded by his eldest son Ferdinand, born of Maria-Louisa Gabriela, sister to the late king of Sardinia. He espoused Donna Maria Magdalena, infanta of Portugal, but had no issue. Philip was but two days survived by his daughter, the dauphiness of France.
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