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. Bracho! he said in a doleful voice that sent a cold, deadly feelinginto the mother s heart. In a few hours that pit will contain a corpse!Listen, he went on; today, in this very place, a great crime will bejudged and punished, one as of yet unknown among Argentine sol-diers, one that has never before stained our military annals that oftreason! Go now into the city and look in the barracks where my regimentis stationed for the second in command; tell him that I order him tomeet me here immediately, and advise him to keep absolute secrecyabout his destination. Bracho made an involuntary movement expressing painful sur-prise when he heard his order.He hesitated and looked at his master,as if he wanted to say something; but a severe look from the colonelmade him obey silently.v.a mother s love A deserter! the colonel exclaimed once he found himself alone. A deserter! An Argentine soldier, a Ramírez, is a deserter! Oh, soulof Belgrano! he continued painfully, addressing the portrait of thenational hero. Majestic soul of Belgrano, do you not tremble withindignation when you hear the name of your friend once repeatedwith honor in the accounts of a hundred battles now allied withinfamy? Do you not moan with pain when you see your old compan-ion s scars dishonored? But no, not dishonored, thank God; the crimehas not yet been consummated.And that grave, and this dagger, willsoon bury it forever along with the guilty individual. The Black Glove | 119When she heard the metallic sound that the colonel s thick daggermade as it fell on the table, the poor mother, who until then had beentrying to convince herself that all of this was a dream, felt her insidestremble madly.Her heart seemed to sense the cold blade destined forher son s heart.Then, letting out a bloodcurdling scream, she suddenlystood up; she was so pale that she looked like a ghost to her husband seyes.The startled colonel took a few steps back, and exclaimed: Margarita! What are you doing here? Ramírez! she yelled mournfully. Oh, have mercy! Tell me that Iam insane, and that the horrendous words that I have just heard youpronounce are all part of my delirium! Ramírez! Ramírez! In thename of God, tell me that that grave, that dagger, that frighteningsentence, are merely the hallucinations of a horrible nightmare thathas taken possession of my mind! Tell me that it is not true, that youare not planning to murder our son! Our son! Your son! Our son! the colonel exclaimed in an explosion of painand indignation. You no longer have a son, you most unfortunatewoman; he who was once our son is now a traitor, driven by passionto abandon the sacred flag of our country.His moments in this worldare already numbered; they belong only to my judgment.Margarita!Go pray for him, and forget your son s name forever. Oh! the mother exclaimed in a loud and frightening tone. Prayfor him, as if he were already dead? Forget my son s name, that beau-tiful name of the one who has been the apple of my eye for the pasttwenty years? Who is telling me to do this? Who?.Oh, nobody.nobody! Oh, God! I must be mad.mad! The poor wretch paced back and forth in the room as she said this,wringing her hands, then pressing both palms against her temples, asif she were trying to make the madness burst out of her head.The tremendous voice of affronted honor had drowned out that ofpaternal love in the colonel s soul; but it was in turn muted by amother s desperation.Ramírez felt his heart break and his terribleresolution waver.He stretched his arms out to his wife and said sadly: Margarita! Poor mother! Come, cry on the chest of your husband,your friend! I also need to shed tears. 120 | Dreams and RealitiesBut his eyes suddenly met those of Belgrano; and the firm andpenetrating gaze of the national hero, shining clearly from the backof the gloomy room, seemed to reprimand him for his weakness.Shame then covered the colonel s contorted and livid countenancein shades of purple.His fiery eyes burned, and a long scar on his fore-head, a memento of past glories, turned pale on his reddened face,making it look as if he were wearing a sinister crown. No! he said loudly to his wife, and stormed over to stand beforethe portrait of his old leader. He who has served by your side, heexclaimed, addressing the portrait of Belgrano, and has stood calmlyin the face of death while the shrapnel of battle flew all around him,will not disprove his courage in carrying out his duty, as terrible as itmight be.If my heart gets in the way, he continued, striking himselfin the chest, I will break it, but honor will have been saved; the guiltyindividual will perish! Oh! the mother screamed, hurling herself at her husband andshaking his arm wildly. Could it be true? Do my ears not deceiveme? Ramírez! Ramírez! Is it true that the horrible thought that mylips cannot even utter has found a home in your soul? Ah! she con-tinued, falling at the colonel s feet and grabbing him by the knees. Ifyou need blood, here take mine! Take that dagger and cut openeach one of my veins, one by one; martyr me, tear out my heart, buryme alive in that empty grave, but have mercy on my son! Respect hislife, that precious life that is just now beginning to flower.Oh!Ramírez! If you have forgotten that you are a father, remember atleast that you are a man; take pity on his youth, on his beauty and hisfuture, on that wonderful horizon of dreams and promises that youwish to steal from him.The crime has not yet occurred; there is stilltime for him to repent.What right do you have to be even moresevere than God, who always allows the guilty time to recognize andrepent for their mistakes? But the moment of weakness had already passed for the colonel.His white, severe lips smiled bitterly and disdainfully. Repent? he exclaimed. Can he redeem himself from a crimethat is dishonorable, even if it exists only in the form of a thought? The Black Glove | 121Margarita! You know that it is not possible! You, who as a young wifetold your husband, when he found himself awaiting his deathunguarded and staying where he was only because he had given hisword of honor to do so: Ramírez! It is better to stay and die than tobreak your word and lose your honor! Nothing can cleanse one shonor once it has been stained! Ah! she answered, crying. But I was a wife then; now I am amother! Oh! A woman once carried you in her womb and fed youwith her own blood; in memory of her, have mercy on a mother whobegs you on her knees to save the life of her son! The sound of a few horses resonated from the patio of the countrymanor.The colonel took his wife violently in his arms, and tried to carryher out of the room; but she grabbed one of the legs of the writingdesk, and the woman s thin and delicate fingers became as strong assteel springs that the colonel s strength could not unwind. No! I will not be carried out of here, she muttered; I want tosave my son from death, and you from a horrendous crime! I want toput my chest between his and the blows of a murderer! Margarita! he exclaimed in a solemn tone of voice
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