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Updated: May 17, 2025
"No mystery," chimed in the monk; "no mystery, God help us, but mucha, mucha miseria, hijo mio; much misery, sir, and more impending, and none to help save only" He did not finish the sentence, but taking off his shovel hat, and shewing his finely turned bald head, he looked up to heaven, and crossed himself, the tears trickling down his wrinkled cheeks.
"A little Geist and I, and Mees Tomleenson, we relieve each other. But those two don't know much about wounds." "And you do, I suppose?" "Hijo de Dios! Do I know much about wounds? I have nursed men who have been cut to pieces. I have been cut to pieces myself. Look!"
"What would you think of doing?" But already there was something of mockery in Decoud's suppressed excitement. "What would you expect a true Costaguanero to do? Another revolution, of course. On my word of honour, Mrs. Gould, I believe I am a true hijo del pays, a true son of the country, whatever Father Corbelan may say.
You do not know, she has tried hard to be good, and to please you. And I will work for you all my life. I have been praying to San Lucas ever since I told you, but he has not done anything." The priest was moved by the earnestness of the boy for boy he had always considered him, and indeed he was little more in age. "Well, hijo mio," he said, "I do not know about that.
"These ladies are our prisoners, and their carriage and all it contains our prize." "I beg your pardon, Señor Capitan, but you are, perhaps not aware that Lord Wellington has given strict orders that private property is to be respected; and no true caballero molests women." "Hijo de Dios! Dare you say that I am no true caballero? Begone this instant, or "
"Another cloud of dust," said Gahra, pointing to the north-west. So there was, and moving rapidly. Had our attention been less taken up with the guerillas this new portent would not so long have escaped us. "Mejia! I'll wager ten thousand piasters that behind that cloud are Mejia and his braves," exclaimed Carmen, excitedly. Hijo de Dios! Won't they make mince-meat of the Spaniard?
Maybe not maybe he is the choice of Don Ambrosio; who, himself of plebeian origin, is ambitious that his blood should be mingled with that of the military hidalgo. The soldier has no money beyond his pay; and that is mortgaged for months in advance; but he is a true Gachupino, of "blue blood," a genuine "hijo de algo." Not a singular ambition of the old miser, nor uncommon among parvenus.
Come, Gaspar, you may as well tell me of it at once." "I intend telling you, hijo mio. I was only waiting till we were all three together. For now, I think, we'll have to rouse Master Ludwig. You've conjectured aright, as I'm sorry to say. I have seen something that's not as we would wish it. Still, it may not be so bad as I've been making it."
The power of luck is nowhere better expressed than in a certain Spanish proverb: Da Ventura a tu hijo, y echa lo en el mar give your son luck and throw him into the sea. Still, chance, it may be said, is a malignant power, and as little as possible should be left to its agency.
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