Works of Jules Verne/The Pearl of Lima/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII
THE BRIDE DISAPPEARS
Quite an event was the approaching marriage of André Certa with the daughter of the affluent Jew. The ladies had no time for repose; the necessity of inventing new fashions and for preparing elaborate costumes to grace the occasion occupied every thought and taxed every resource.
The mansion of the Jew was especially the scene of bustle, as he was resolved to give a most sumptuous entertainment in honor of Sarah's wedding. The frescoes which decorated the walls in Spanish fashion were restored at a large expense; hangings of the most costly quality were hung at every window and over every door; handsome furniture, carved of fragrant wood, diffused a pleasant odor throughout the spacious rooms, while plants of the rarest and loveliest growth, the products of the most luxuriant regions of the tropics, adorned the balconies and terraces at every turn.
The maiden herself, however, was the victim of despair. Sambo had no longer any hope, otherwise he would have worn the red token on his arm. Her servant Liberta had been sent to keep a watch upon the old Indian, but he had been unable to discover anything.
Could the girl only have been free to follow the dictates of her heart she would not have hesitated an instant to have sought a refuge in the nearest convent, and to have made her vows for all her future life. Attracted as she was with the doctrines of the Catholics as they had been irresistibly expounded to her by the eloquence of Father Joachim, she would have surrendered herself with the most genuine of zeal to the influences of that faith which was winding itself so sympathetically around the longings of her heart.
The monk, anxious to avoid every suspicion of scandal, and being better read in his breviary than in the passions of human nature, allowed Sarah to believe in the death of Martin Paz. The girl's conversion seemed to him the matter of supreme importance, and presuming that this would be secured by her marriage with Andre, he tried to reconcile her to the union, without at all knowing the conditions under which it was concluded.
At length the day arrived, a day so full of congratulations to one party, so heavy in misgivings to the other. André Certa had issued his invitation to well-nigh the whole town, but had the mortification of finding that, under some pretext or other, all the superior families had excused themselves.
The hour struck at which the marriage contract had to be signed, and expectation rose to its height, when all became aware that the bride had not appeared.
The annoyance and alarm of the old Jew were intense. The frown that lowered on the brow of André Certa was the witness of mingled anger and amazement. Embarrassment seized every guest; and the whole scene was brought out in singular distinctness by the thousands of wax lights, whose rays were reflected from the countless mirrors.
Meanwhile, outside in the general thoroughfare, there was a man pacing up and down in a state of the wildest excitement. That man was the Marquis Don Vegal.