The President's Substitute [pp. 134-139]

The President's Substitute.
" Ah! there is the Chamber of Deputies. Let us go in for a little!" And
as his companion seemed to hesitate.
"There can be no danger now, senfior,
when you are not expected here."
The President made no reply, only
giving the necessary order to the cochero.
But just as the carriage was stopping,
he turned and said gravely, "Remember
this, amigo mio. At every turn I prepare myself to meet lurking assassination. I hope I am not afraid, but I tell
you this that you may recall it when -
when my time shall have come." He
concluded his sentence solemnly, after a
slight hesitation, and without further
word started cross the patio of the
House of Congress.
The large court was lined on either
side by a file of soldiers, standing mute
and immobile, the apparent embodiment
of stoical devotion to duty.
It so happened that Stephen Brent
was crossing the Plaza de la Constitucion just before them, and was quickening his steps at sight of a well known
pair of bays trotting up the street.
With the accelerated pulse now always
caused by a perception of Don Miguel's
neighborhood, he advanced, quietly saluting the President. Then he turned
to speak to the Minister, also, when his
attention was attracted by a sudden
movement among the guard. Before he
had time fully to take in the situation,
to his unspeakable horror he saw a
soldier stepl) quickly and boldly forward,
and aim his rifle at the President.
No one else, it seemed, had seen the
action. His privilege it was to save so
valuable a life, if indeed it might be now
saved at all. He dashed forward and
grasped the assailant's arm, in order to
give the missile an upward direction.
By some mischance -the by-standers
never could exactly explain how -in being thus diverted, the ball pierced his
own breast;-the breast of a foreigner,
quite innocent of political scheming, or
even of political interest!
He fell, bleeding profusely, and surrounded by an eager throng, some shouting for joy at the President's deliverance, and others lamenting in hushed
tones the untimely end of the brave
young estranjero. And in the midst of
this excitement a woman, who had
leaped at the sound of the shot from a
passing carriage, tore her way through
the throng and fell beside the prostrate,
dying man.
She raised his drooping head upon
her knees, and covered his already chilling forehead with frantic kisses and
tears. His fading eyes looked into hers
steadfastly, as she murmured fond words
into the dulling ears.
"She loves him!" muttered someone
behind her.
"Ay, I do!" she groaned in reply,
raising her agonized face for a moment.
Then she bent again over him, whose
blood was dripping down, down upon
her gay attire. "Speak, Estevan! speak
to Zoyla once more! Tell me thou wilt
not die, even though thou hast given
thy life for another! Speak, speak,
Estevan! Tell me at least that thou
dost still love me! That thou knowest
my. heart breaks! Ah, though thou
mayst not speak, thy tender eyes tell
me thou dost,-that I am thine in death
even as I should have been in life, had
the good God pleased! Ah, how cold
is thy brow,-how cold thy hands! Do
not leave me so, Estevan! Mother of
Heaven! He hears me no more! He
is gone!"
And the walls that had once received
the agonized shrieks of those whom an
ancient religious fanaticism had tortured and murdered, now gave back the
pitiful cries of her whom a modern political fanaticism had bereaved.1
And while friends thronged around
the President, full of congratulations
on his marvelous escape, the stiffening
corpse of him who had averted the catas'The House of Congress in Lima is the old Chamber
of the Inquisition.
138
[Aug.