ANGOSTURA DE PAINE. 253 



up, and said something aloud, calling him by name, and the answer 



was so completely that of an idiot, that I turned to E to avoid 



more discourse with the unhappy creature. I spoke of Santiago and 

 the Director, which I have not done here on account of Doha Ana 

 Maria ; and of the 18th of September, the approaching anniversary 

 of the independence of the country ; and asking him if he, as captain 

 of militia, would not be on parade with the lancers, again I saw the 

 tonto's eyes fixed on me, with an intelligence and an expression that 

 interested me anew, and I thought that perhaps his state of mind 

 was owing to some misfortune sprung out of the civil war ; so I talked 

 on, and mentioned more especially the Director's promise of backing 

 any request to be made to the Assembly for a general amnesty for 

 all persons held criminal for political opinions, and recal to all exiles. 

 There was something in the faces of all that induced me to repeat 

 this distinctly again ; and then I went on with the drawing I was 



about, and E went away : I then heard the tonto speak about 



me in a whisper to Doha Ana Maria, who answered him in the same 

 tone, and then she spoke to me ; and the conversation led me to say 

 to the tonto, " And why should not you, who live in the country and 

 have your farm, be happy as any of us ?" He answered quickly ; and 

 this time his voice and language corresponded with the dignity of 

 his figure and his fine features — "/happy with farms, and peons, and 

 cattle ! — No ! for years I was wretched, and the first moment of 

 happiness I owe to you."- — "Indeed !" said I. " Then you are not what 

 you seem ?" — He started up and stretched himself to his full height, 

 and his eye flashed fire. — "No, — 1 will no longer play this fool's 

 part ; it is unworthy the son of Xabiera, the nephew of Jose Miguel 

 Carrera. I am that unhappy exile Lastra, reduced to fly from desert 

 to desert, to hide me in caves, and to feed with the fowls of the air, 

 till my limbs are palsied and my youth is wasted ; and my crime has 

 been to love Chile too well. Oh, my country ! what would I not suffer 

 for thee !" I had been immoveable during this burst of feeling : but 

 now I rose astonished, as I believe all present were ; not indeed at 

 the disclosure, — for only de Roos besides myself had any thing to 



