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Updated: June 11, 2025
According to my own surmise, founded on the text of the anonymous author of the Bellum Hispaniense, and on certain information culled from the excellent library owned by the Duke of Ossuna, I believed the site of the memorable struggle in which Caesar played double or quits, once and for all, with the champions of the Republic, should be sought in the neighbourhood of Montilla.
Bolivar knew well how to discover real qualifications even in the hearts of his enemies, and he availed himself of this opportunity to establish strong bonds of friendship between himself and his former foe. He gave Montilla full powers to go to Cartagena, still in the hands of the Spaniards, with instructions to take it. Montilla proved worthy of Bolivar's trust.
"Have the Royalists got clear of the mountains?" "No; they are still in the defiles. But I am in a hurry; I have come for the Spanish prisoner Montilla." Fortunately this officer had not attended the trial of Don Felipe, and Sorillo was not the man to give reasons for his orders.
So I put the question to José, who looked at me wonderingly. "The girl?" he repeated slowly; "what girl?" "Rosa Montilla," I answered. We spoke in English; but at the mention of Rosa's name the mountaineer scowled savagely, and leaned forward as if to take part in the conversation.
"You have made a wonderfully quick journey. You must be tired and in need of refreshment. Come; I can at least offer you a good supper." "Not yet, thank you. I want to ask you a question first. What have you done with Don Felipe Montilla?" "The dog is in the hut yonder." He spoke with both anger and contempt; his face underwent a sudden change; for the first time I saw how cruel it could look.
Forward, good horse! My spirits rose with every step; the tired feeling left me; I could have sung aloud for very joy. The sight of the Montilla hacienda sobered my happiness somewhat. The grounds were trim and well-kept, but the dwelling looked untenanted. What had become of Rosa? Perhaps yes, that must be it she was staying with my mother.
"But I'll see you get no harm by this right-about face. He is mistaken if he thinks his treachery will give him a hold on your estates." "A hold on my estates, José? What do you mean?" "Oh," said he, "I have not cared to speak of it, but I must now." And he proceeded to inform me that all my father's property had passed into the possession of Don Felipe Montilla.
The spring and the cool shade were so delightful that I bethought me of certain slices of an excellent ham, which my friends at Montilla had packed into my guide's wallet. I bade him produce them, and invited the stranger to share our impromptu lunch. If he had not smoked for a long time, he certainly struck me as having fasted for eight-and-forty hours at the very least.
"But there is a further charge, Don Felipe Montilla, more serious still. You have been proved false to your country; I accuse you also of being false to your friend." Hitherto, I am bound to admit, the guerilla chief had acted like a perfectly impartial judge; now there was a ring of anger in his voice and a dangerous glitter in his eyes.
You will see that, whoever sinks, Don Felipe Montilla will swim." "Not at my expense," I exclaimed, "while I have strength to raise an arm." The rest of that day I spent with my mother, forcing myself to forget that any trouble existed in the world.
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