i0iorti)tocôter« ?Hítíber¿jtp ïibrarp
€banäton, SOtnoiâ
1 -1 frn 7 4
PEEFACB.
♦
The present rolurae of Gustavs Aimahd's worts îs a con¬
tinuation of the " Indian Cliief," and conclusion of the series
comprising that work, the " Gold Seekers," and the " Tiger
Slayer."
At the present moment, when we are engaged in a war with
Mexico, I feel assured that the extraordinary and startling
de.»eriptions given in this volume of the social condition and
mode of life in the capital of that country will be read with
uuiversal gratification ; for I can assert confidently that no pre¬
vious writer has ever produced such a graphic and truthful
account of a city with which the illustrated papers will soon
make us thoroughly acquainted.
If a further recommendation be needed, it will he found in
the fart that the present volume appears in an English garb
before being introduced to French readers. Gustave Aiuabd
is so gratified with the reception his works have found in this
country, through my poor assistance, that he has considered he
could not supply a better proof of his thankftilness than by
permitting his English readers to enjoy, on this occasion, the
first-fruits of his versatile and clever pen. This is a compliment
which, I trust, will be duly appreciated ; for, as to the merits of
the work itself, I have not the slightest doubt. Beaders may
imagine it impossible for Gustave Aimasd to surpass his
previous triumphs in the wildly romantic, or that ho could
invent anything equal to the " Prairie Flower," a work which I
venture to affirm to be the finest Indian tale ever yet written, in
spite of the great authors who have preceded Aimakd ; but I ask
my reader's special admiration for the "Bed Tbace," because
in it our favourite author strikes out a new path, and displays a
iv
PnEFACE.
Tersatiliij which puts to the blush those bilious critics—^few in
number—I grant, among the multitude of encouraging reviewers,
who have ventured an opinion that Oustatd Aimabd can only
write about Indian life, or, in point of fact, that he is merely a
hunter describing -his own experiences tinder a transparent
disguise.
Well, be it so, I accept the assertion. Gttstave Aimabd is
but a hunter ; he has seen nought but uncivilized life ; be has
spent years among savages, and has returned to his own eountry
to try and grow Europeanized again. What then ? The very
objection is a proof of his veracity ; and I am fully of the con¬
viction that every story he has told us is true. It is not reason¬
able to suppose that a man who has spent the greater part of his
life in hunting the wild animals of America—who has been an
adopted son of the most powerful Indian tribes—who has for
years never known what the morrow would bring forth, should
sit down to invent. The storehouse of his mind is too amply
filled with marvels for him to take that needless trouble, and he
simply repeats on paper the talcs which in olden times he picked
up at the camp fires, or heard during his wanderings with the
wood-rangers.
And it is as such that I wish Gústate Aimabd to be judged
by English readers. His eminent quality is truth. He is a
man who could not set dowm a falsehood, no matter what the
bribe might be. He bas lived through the incidents he describes,
and has brought back to Europe the adventures of a chequered
life. He does not attempt to fascinate his readers by a compli¬
cated plot. He does not possess the marvellous invention of a
CooPEB, who, after a slight acquaintance with a few powerless
Indians, wrote books which all admirers of the English lan¬
guage peruse. But Gústate Aiuabd possesses a higher quality,
in the fact that he only notes down incidents which he has seen,
or which he has received on undoubted evidence from his com¬
panions.
The present is the twelfth volume of Gustatb Aiuabd's
works to which I have put my name ; and, with the exception of
a few captious criticisms whose motive may be read between the
lines, the great body of the British Press has greeted our joint
PBEFACE. T
efforts with the heartiest applaiise. The success of this series
has been unparalleled in the annak of cheap literature. Day by
day the number of readers increases, and the publication of each
successive volume creates an excitement which cannot fail to be
most gratifying to the publishers.
To please all parties, the proprietors of Aimard's copyrights
have projected an Illustrated Series, to which I would invite
most earnest attention. Although by this time I am saturated
with Indian life, I confess that I never thoroughly' understood
it till I saw the engravings after a Zwecker, a Huard, and a Cor-
bottld. The artists have carefully studied their subjects, and gone
to the fountain-head for information ; and the result is, that they
have produced a series of works which only need to be seen to be
appreciated. The last volume illustrated is " The Freebooters,"
which was entirely intrusted to Mr. Corbould, and though I do
not wish for a moment to depreciate the other artists, I felt, on
seeing the illustrations, that Gustave Aimabd was worthily in¬
terpreted. All I can urge upon readers is, that they should judge
for themselves.
To wind up this unusually long Preface, into which honest
admiration, for the author bus alone induced me, I wish to say
that it affords me an ever-recurring delight to introduce Gustave
Aihabd's works to English readers, while it causes me an
extra pleasure, on this occasion, to be enabled to repeat that the
present volume appears on this side of the Channel before it
has been introduced to French readers. And, knowing as I do
the number of editions through which Aimabd's books pass in
his own native land, I can appreciate the sacrifice he has made
on this occasion at its full value.
LASCELLES WRAXALL.
Deattoh Tebbace, "West Beomptph,
March, 1862.
CONTENTS.
CHAP.
I, THB ßlEBEA OB THB WIND EIVEB
n. XHE DEAD ALIVE .
ni. TEE COMPACT • •
IV. TEE TBATELLEBS • ;
V. THE POET OP THE CHICHIMEQITES
VI. THE 6UEPHISE , ,
VU. THE EXPLANATION . .
Tin. A DECLAEATION OP WAE
IX. MEXICO . • • •
X. THE BANCHO .
XI. THE PASEO DE BUCAEELLI
XII. A CONPIDENTIAL CONVEBSAllON
XIII. DON MABTIAL
XIV. THE VEXOBIO .
XV. THE CONVENT OP THE BEliNAlîOlNLS
XVI. THE CONFKSSOB
XVII. THE BEOINNINO OP THE STEHGGLE'
XVIII. A VISIT
XIX. ASSISTANCE • • •
XX. EL ZABAOATE .
XXI. APIEB THB INTKBVIEW .
viii
CONTENTS,
CBir.
xxn. THE BLANK SIONATtTEB
XKIII. ON THE BOAS •
TTTTT- A SKIRMISH •
ZXr. LOS BEOOCIJOS .
XKVr. THE BEONTTNCIAMIENIO
KKTU> THE CAPILLA . •
A BUFFALO HUNT.
• A MUSTANG .
THE BED TEACK.
OHAPTEB t.
TUE SIEBEA OF THE WIND UlTEIl.
IHE Bocky Mountains form an almost impassable
barrier between California and the United States,
properly so called ; their formidable defiles, their rude
valleys, and the vast western plains, watered by rapid
streams, are even to the present day almost unknown
to the American adventurers, and are rarely visited
by the intrepid and daring Canadian trappers.
The majestic mountain range called the Sierra
of tíie Wind Eiver, especially otters a grand and
striking pictme, as it raises to the skies its white and
snow-clad peaks, which extend indefinitely in a
north-western direction, until they appear on the
horizon like a white cloud, although the experienced
eye of the trapper recognizes in this cloud the scarped
outline of the Tellow-stone Mountains.
The Sierra of the Wind Eiver is one of the most
' remarkable of the Eocky Mountain range ; it forms, so
B
2
THE BED TEACK.
to speak, an immense plateau, thirty leagues loug, by
ten or twelve in width, commanded by scarped peaks,
crowned with eternal snows, and having at their base
narrow and deep valleys filled with springs, streams,
and rock-bound lakes. These magnificent reservoirs
give rise to some of the mighty rivers which, after
running for hundreds of miles through a picturesque
territory, become on one side the affluents of the
Missouri, on the other of the Columbia, and bear the
tribute of their waters to the two oceans.
In the stories of the wood-rangers and trappers,
the Sierra of the Wind Eiver is justly renowned for its
frightful gorges, and the wild country in its vicinity
frequently serves as a refuge to the pirates of the
prairie, and has been, many a time and oft, the scene
of obstinate struggles between the white men and
the Indians.
Toward the end of June, 1854, a well-mounted
traveller, carefully wrapped up in the thick folds of a
sarape, raised to his eyes, was following one of the
most precipitous slopes of the Sierra of the Wind
Eiver, at no great distance from the source of the
G reen River, that great western Colorado which pours
its waters into the Gulf of California.
It was about seven in the evening : the traveller
rode along, shivering from the effects of an icy wind
which whistled mournfully through the canons. All
aroimd had assumed a saddening aspect in the vacil¬
lating moonbeams. He rode on without hearing the
footfall of his horse, as it fell on the winding sheet of
THE SIEEEA OP THE WIND EIVEE.
3
snow that covered the landscape ; at times the capri¬
cious windings of the track he was following com¬
pelled him to pass through thickets, whose branches,
bent by the wéight of snow, stood out before him
like gigantic skeletons, and struck each other after
he had passed with a sullen snap.
The traveller continued his journey, looking
anxiously on both sides of him. His horse, fatigued
by a long ride, hobbled at every step, and in spite of
the repeated encouragement of its rider seemed deter¬
mined to stop short, when, after suddenly turning
an angle in the track, it suddenly entered a large
clearing, where the close-growing grass formed a
circle about forty yards in diameter, and the verdure
formed a cheery contrast with the whiteness that
surrounded it.
" Heaven be praised !" the traveller exclaimed in
excellent French, and giving a start of pleasure ;
"here is a spot at last where I can camp for to¬
night, without any excessive inconvenience. I almost
despaired of finding one."
While thus congratulating himself, the traveller
had stopped his horse and dismounted. His first
attention was paid to his horse, from which he re¬
moved saddle and bridle, and which he covered with
his sarape, appearing to attach no importance to the
cold, which was, however, extremely severe in these
elevated regions. So soon as it was free, the animal,
in spite of its fatigue, began browsing heartily on the
grass, and thus reassured about his companion, the
é TUB BED TBAOE.
traveller began thinking abont making the best bT'
rangements possible for the night.
Tall, thin, active, with a lofty and capacions fore¬
head, an intelligent blue eye, sparkling with boldness,
the stranger appeared to have been long accustomed
to desert life, and to find nothing extraordinary or
peculiarly disagreeable in the somewhat precarious
position in which he found himself at this moment.
He was a man who had reached about middle
life, on whose brow grief rather than the fatigue of
the adventurous life of the desert had formed deep
wrinkles, and sown numerous silver threads in his
thick light hair; his dress was a medium between
that of the white trappers and the Mexican gambu¬
sinos ; but it was easy to recognize, in spite of his
complexion, bronzed by the seasons, that he was a
, stranger to the ground he trod, and that Europe had
witnessed his birth.
After giving a final glance of satisfaction at his
horse, which at intervals interrupted its repast to
raise its delicate and intelligent head to him with an
expression of pleasure, he carried his weapons and
horse trappings to the foot of a rather lofty rock,
which offered him but a poor protection against the
gusts of the night breeze, and then began collecting
dry wood to light a watch-fire.
It was no easy task to find dry firewood at a spot
almost denuded of trees, and vvhose soil, covered with
snow, except in the clearing, allowed nothing to be
distinguished; but the traveller was patient, he would
THE SIEBBA OE THE WIHD BITEB.
5
not be beaten, and within an hour he had collected
sufficient wood to feed through the night two such
fires as he proposed kindling. The branches soon
crackled, and a bright flame rose joyously in a long
spiral to the sky. i
" Ah !" said the traveller, who, like all men con¬
strained to live alone, seemed to have contracted the
habit of soliloquizing aloud, " the fire will do, so now
for supper."
Then, fumbling in the alforgas, or double pockets
which travellers always carry fastened to the saddle,
he took from them aU the requisite elements of a
frugal meal; that is to say, cecina, pemmican, and
several varas of tasajo, or meat dried in the sun. At
the moment when, after shutting up his alforgas, the
traveller raised his head to lay his meat on the embers
to broil, he stopped motionless, with widely-opened
mouth, and it was only through a mighty strength of
will that he suppressed a cry of surprise and possibly
of terror. Although no sound had revealed his pre¬
sence, a man, leaning on a long rifle, was standing
motionless before him, and gazing at him with pro-
fotind attention.
At once mastering the emotion he felt, the tra¬
veller carefully laid the tasajo on the embers, and
then, without removing his eye from this strange
visitor, he stretched out his arm to grasp his rifle,
while saying, in a tone of the most perfect indif¬
ference—
" "Whether friend or foe, you are welcome, mate.
6
THE EED TEACK.
'Tis a bitter night, so, if you are cold, warm yourself,
and if you are hungry, eat. "When your nerves have
regained their elasticity, and your body its usual
strength, we will have a frank explanation, Such as
men of honour ought to have."
The stranger remained silent for some seconds;
then, after shaking his head several times, he com¬
menced in a low and melancholy voice, as it were
speaking to himself rather than replying to the ques¬
tion asked him—
"Can any human being really exist in whose
heart a feeling of pity still remains ?"
"Make the trial, mate," the traveller answered
quickly, " by accepting, without hesitation, my hearty
offer.' Two men who meet in the desert must be
friends at first sight, imless private reasons make
them implacable enemies. Sit down by my side and
eat."
This dialogue had been held in Spanish, a lan¬
guage the stranger spoke with a facility that proved
his Mexican origin. He seemed to reflect, for a mo¬
ment, and then instantly made up his mind.
"I accept," he said, "for your voice is too sym¬
pathizing and your glance too frank to deceive."
" That is the way to speak," the traveller said,
gaily. " Sit down and eat without further delay, for
I confess to you that I am dying of hunger."
The stranger smiled sadly, and sat down on the
ground by the traveller's side. The two men, thus
strangely brought together by accident, then attacked
THE SIEEEA OP THE, WIND EITEE. 7
•with no ordinary vigour, which evidenced a long fast,
the provisions placed before them. Still, while eating,
the traveller did not fail to examine his singular com¬
panion ; and the following was the result of his ob¬
servations.
The general appearance of the stranger was most
wretched, and his ragged clothes scarce covered his
bony, fleshless body ; while his pale and sickly featm^s
were rendered more sad and gloomy by a thick, dis¬
ordered beard that fell on his chest. His eyes, inflamed
by fever, and surrounded by black circles, glistened
•with a sombre fire, and at times emitted fiashes of
magnetic radiance. His weapons were in as bad a
condition as his clothes, and in the event of a fight
this man, with the exception of his bodüy strength,
which must once have been great, but which priva¬
tions of every description, and probably endured for a
lengthened period, had exhausted, would not have
been a formidable adversary for the traveller. StiU,
beneath this truly wretched appearance could be
traced an organization crushed by grief. There was
in this man something grand and sympathetic, which
appeared to emanate from his person, and aroused not
only pity but also respect for torture so proudly
hidden and so nobly endured. This man, in short,
ere he fell so low, must have been great, either in
virtue or in vice; but assuredly there was nothing
common about him, and a mighty heart beat in his
bosom.
Such was the impression the stranger produced on
8
THE.BED TBACE.
I
Bis host, while both, without the iutercbauge of a
word, appeased an appetite sharpened by long hours
of abstinence. Hunters* meals are short, and the
present one lasted hardly a quarter of an ho\ir.
When it was over, the traveller rolled a cigarette,
and, handing it to the stranger, said—
" Do you smoke ?"
On this apparently so simple question being
asked, a strange thing happened which will only be
understood by smokers who, long accustomed to the
weed, have for some reason or other been deprived of
it for a lengthened period. The stranger's face was
suddenly lit up by the effect of some internal emo¬
tion ; his dull eye flashed, and, seizing the cigarette
with a nervous tremor, he exclaimed, in a voice choked
by an outburst of joy impossible to render—
" Tes, yes ; I used to smoke."
There was a rather long silence, during which the
two men slowly inhaled the smoke of their cigarettes,
and indulged in thought. The wind howled fiercely
over their heads, the eddying snow was pibng up
around them, and the echoes of the cañons seemed to
utter notes of complaint. It was a horrible night.
Beyond the circle of light produced by the flickering
flame of the watch-fire all was buried in dense gloom.
The picture presented by these two men, seated in
the desert, strangely illumined by the bluish flame,
and smoking calmly while suspended above an unfa¬
thomable abyss, had something striking and awe-
inspiring about it. When the traveller had finished his
THE SIEEEA OF THE WHTD EITEE.
9
cigarette, he rolled another, and laid his tobacco-
pouch between himself and his guest.
" Now that the ice is broken between us," he said
in a fnendly voice, " and that we have nearly formed
an acquaintance—^for we have been sitting at the same
fire, and have eaten and smoked together—the mo¬
ment has arrived, 1 fancy, for us to become thoroughly
acquainted."
The stranger nodded his head silently. It was a
gesture that could be interpreted affirmatively or ne¬
gatively, at pleasure. The traveller continued, with a
good-humoured smile—
" I make not the slightest pretence to compel you
to reveal your secrets, and you are at liberty to main¬
tain your incognito without in any way offending me.
Still, whatever may be the result, let me give you an
example of frankness by telling you who I am. My
story will not be long, and only consists of à very few
words. France is my country, and I was born at
Paris—which city, doubtless," he remarked, with a
stifled sigh, "I shall never see again. Eeasons too
lengthy to trouble you with, and which would interest
you but very slightly, led me to America. Chance,
or Providence, perhaps, by guiding me to the de¬
sert, and arousing my instincts and aspirations for
liberty, wished to make a wood-ranger of me, and I
obeyed. For twenty years I have been traversing the
prairies and great savannahs in every direction, and I
shall probably continue to do so, till an Indian bullet
comes from some thicket to stop my wanderings for
THE BED TBACE.
ever. Towns are hateful to me ; passionately fond of
the grand spectacles of nature, which elevate the
thought, and draw the creature nearer to his Creator,
I shall only mix myself up once again in the chaos oí
civilizatioif in order to fulfil a vow made on the tomb
of a friend. When I have done that, I shall fly to
the most unknown deserts, in order to end a life
henceforth useless, far from those men whose paltry
passions and base and ignoble hatred have robbed
me of the small amount of happiness to which I fan¬
cied I had a claim. And now, mate, you know me
as weU as I do myself. I will merely add, in conclu¬
sion, that my name among the white men, my coun¬
trymen, is Valentine Guilléis, and among the red¬
skins, my adopted fathers, Koutenepi—that is to say,
' The Valiant One.' I believe myself to be as honest
and as brave as a man is permitted to be with his im¬
perfect organization. I never did harm with the in¬
tention of doing so, and I have done services to my
fellow-men as often as 1 had it in my power, without
expecting from them thanks or gratitude."
The speech, which the hunter had commenced in
that clear voice and with thât careless accent habitual
to him, terminated involuntarily, under the pressure of
the flood of saddened memories that rose fi:om his
heart to his lips, in a low and inarticulate voice, and
when he concluded, he let his head fall sadly on his
chest, with a sigh that resembled a sob. The stranger
regarded him for a moment with an expression of
gentle commiseration.
THE SIEBEA OP THE WIND BITEE. 11
" You have suffered," he said { " suffered in your
love, suffered in your-friendship. Tour history is that
of all men in this world : who of us, but at a given
hour, has felt his courage yield beneath the weight of
grief? You are alone, friendless, abandoned by all, a
voluntary exile, far from the men who only inspire
you with hatred and contempt ; you prefer the society
of wild beasts, less ferocious than they ; but, at any
rate, you live, while I am a dead man !"
The hunter started, and looked in amazement at
the speaker.
"I suppose you think me mad?" he continued,
with a melancholy smile ; " reassure yourself, it is not
so. I am in full possession of my senses, my head is
cool, and my thoughts are clear and lucid. For all
that though, I repeat to you, I am dead; dead in the
sight of my relations and friends, dead to the whole
world in fine, and condemned to lead this wretched
existence for an indefinite period. Mine is a strange
story, and that you would recognize through one
word, were you a Mexican, or had you travelled in
certain regions of Mexico."
" Did I not tell you that, for twenty years, I have
bemi travelling over every part of America ?" . the
traveller replied, his curiosity being aroused to the
highest pitch. " "What is the word ? Can you tell
it me?"
" "Why not ? I am alluding to the name I bore
while I was still a living man."
" "What is that name ?"
12
the bes tbace.
" It had acquired a certain celebrity, but I doubt
whether, even if you have heard it mentioned, it has
remained in your memory."
" "Who knows ? Perhaps you are mistaken."
"Well, since you insist, leam, then, that I was
called Martial el Tigrero."
" Tou ?" the hunter exclaimed, under the influ¬
ence of the uttermost surprise; "why that is im¬
possible !"
" Of course so, since I am dead," the stranger
answered, bitterly.
CHAPTEE II.
the seas alive.
The Tigrero had let his head fall on his chest again,
and seemed engaged with gloomy thoughts. The
hunter, somewhat embarrassed by the turn the con¬
versation had taken, and anxious to continue it^
mechanically stirred up the fire vrith the blade of his
navaja, while his eyes wandered around, and were at
times fixed on his companion with an expression of
deep sympathy.
" Stay," he said, presently, as he thrust back with
Iiis foot a few embers that had rolled out; "pardon
me, sir, any insult which my exclamation may seem to
have contained. Tou have mistaken, I assure you,
the meaning of my remarks; although, as we have
THE HEAD AHITE.
13
never met, we are not such strangers as you suppose.
I have known you for a long time."
The Tigrero raised his head, and looked at the
hunter incredulously.
" Ton ?" he muttered.
" Tes, I, caballero, and it will not be difficult to
prove it to you."
""What good will it do?" he murmured; "what
interest can I have in the fact of your knowing me ?"
"My dear sir," the Frenchman continued, with
several shakes of his head, " nothing happens in this
world by the effect of chance. Above us, an intellect
superior to ours directs everything here below ; and if
we have been permitted to meet in a manner so
strange and unexpected in these desolate regions, it is
because Providence has designs with us which we
cannot yet detect; let us, therefore, not attempt to
resist G-on's will, for what He has resolved will hap¬
pen : who knows whether I may not be unconsciously
sent across your path to bring you a supreme consola¬
tion, or to supply you with the means to accomplish a
long meditated vengeance, which you have hitherto
deemed impossible ?"
" I repeat to you, señor," the Tigrero replied, " that
your words are those of a stout-hearted and brave
man, and I feel involuntarily attracted towards you.
I think with you, that this accidental meeting, after
so many days of solitude and grief, with a man of
your stamp, cannot be the effect of unintelligent
chance, and that at a moment when, convinced of my
lé
TEE BEE TBA.CE.
impotence to escape from my present friglitful situa¬
tion, I was reduced to despair and almost resolved on
suicide, the loyal hand you ofier me can only be
that of a friend. Question me, then, without hesita¬
tion, and I will answer with the utmost frankness."
" Thanks for that speech," the hunter said, with
emotion, " for it proves that we are beginning to un¬
derstand each other, and soon, I hope, we shall have
no secrets ; but I must, before all else, tell you how it
is that 1 have known you for a long time, although
you were not awaare of the feet."
"Speak, señor, I am listening to you with the
most earnest attention."
Valentine reflected for a moment, and then went
on as follows :—
"Some months ago, in consequence of circum¬
stances unnecessary to remind you of, but which you
doubtless bear in mind, you met at the colony of
Guetzalli a ^Frenchman and a Canadian hunter, with
whom you eventually stood on most intimate terms."
" It is true," the Tigrero replied, with a nervous
start, " and the Frenchman to whom you allude, is
the Count de Prébois Crancé. Oh ! I shall never be
I able to discharge the debt of gratitude I have con¬
tracted with him for the services he rendered me."
A sad smile curled the hunter's lip. "Ton no
longer owe him anything," he said, with a melancholy
shake of the head.
"What do you mean?" the Tigrero exclaimed,
eagerly ; " surely the count cannot be dead !"
the dead, alite.
15
" He is dead, caballero. He was assassinated on
tbe shores of Guaymas. His murderers laid him in
his tomb, and his blood, so treacherously shed, cries
to Heaven for vengeance : but patience. Heaven will
not permit this horrible crime to remain unpunished."
The hunter hurriedly wiped away the tears he had
been unable to repress while speaking of the connt,
and went on, in a voice choked by the internal emo¬
tion which he strove in vain to conquer :—
"But let us, for the present, leave this sad re¬
miniscence to slumber in our hearts. The count was
my friend, my dearest friend, more than a brother to
me: he often spoke about you to me, and several
times told me your gloomy history, which terminated
in a frightful catastrophe."
"Yes, yes," the Tigrero muttered; "it was, in¬
deed, a frightful catastrophe. I would gladly have
found death at the bottom of the abyss into which I
rolled during my struggle with Black Bear, could I
have saved her I loved ; but God decreed it otherwise,
and may his holy name be blessed and praised."
"Amen!" the hunter said, sadly turning his head
away.
" Oh !" Don Martial continued a moment later,
"I feel my recollections crowding upon me at this
moment. I feel as if the veil that covers my memory
is torn asunder, in order to recal events, already so dis¬
tant, but which have left so deep an impression on
my mind., I, too, recognize you now ; you are the
famous hunter whom the count was trying to find in
16
THE SED TBÍ.CH.
the desert ; but he did not call you by any of the
names you have mentioned."
" I dare say," Valentine answered, " that he al¬
luded to me as the *Traü Hunter,' the name by
which] the white hunters and the Indians of the Far |
West are accustomed to.call me." |
" Yes ; oh, now I remember perfectly, that was '
indeed the name he gave you. You were right in
saying that we had been long acquainted, though we
had never met."
"And now that we meet in this desert," the
hunter said, oflFering his hand, " connected as we are
by the memory of our deceased friend, shall we be
friends ?"
" No, not friends," the Tigrero exclaimed, as he
heartily pressed the hunter's honest hand; "not
friends, but brothers."
"Well, then, brothers, and each for the other
against all comers," the hunter answered. "And
now that yott are convinced that curiosity plays no
part in my eager desire to know what has befallen
you since the moment when you so hurriedly left
your friends, speak, Don Martial, and then I will
tell you, in my turn, what are the motives that
directed my steps to these desolate regions."
The Tigrero, in a few moments, began his narrative
as follows —
" My friends must have fancied me dead, hence I
cannot blame them for having abandoned me, although
they were, perhaps, too quick in doing so without an
ia£ DEAD ALITE.
17
attempt either to recover my corpse, or assure them¬
selves at least that I was really dead, and that assist¬
ance would be thrown away ; hut though I am igno¬
rant of what happened in the cavern after my fall, the
bodies left on the battle-field proved to me afterwards
that they had a tough fight, and were compelled to
By before the Indians ; hence, I say again that I do
not blame them. Ton are aware that I was attacked by
Black Bear at the moment when I believed that I had
succeeded in saving those whom I had sworn to pro¬
tect. It was on the very verge of the pit that Black
Bear and myself, enwreathed like two serpents, began
a final and decisive struggle : at the moment when I
had all but succeeded in foUing my enemy's desperate
efforts, and was raising my arm to cut his throat, the
war-yell of the Comanches suddenly burst forth at
the entrance of the cavern. By a supreme effort the
Apache chief succeeded in escaping from my clutch,
bounded on his feet, and rushed towards Doña
'Anita, doubtless with the intention of carrying her
off, as the imforeseen assistance arriving for us would
prevent the accomplishment of his vengeance. But
the maiden repulsed him with that strength which
despair engenders, and sought refuge behind her
father. Already severely wounded by two shots, the
chief tottered back to the edge of the pit, where he
lost his balance. Peeling that he was falling, by an
instinctive gesture, or, perhaps, through a last senti¬
ment of fury, he stretched out his arms as if to save
Itimself, caught hold of me as I rose, half-stunned by
0
18
THE BED TBACB.
my recent contest, and we both rolled down the pit,
he with a triumphant laugh, and I with a shriek of
despair. -Eorgive me for having described thus
minutely the last incidents of this ßght, but I was
obliged to enter into these details to make you tho¬
roughly understand by what providential chance I was
saved, when I fancied myself hopelessly lost."
" Go on, go on the hunter said, " I am listening
to you with the greatest attention."
Don Martial continued :—
" The Indian was desperately wounded, and his
last effort, in which he had placed all his remaining
strength, cost him his life: it was a corpse that
dragged me down, for during the few seconds our fall
lasted he did not make a movement. The pit was not
so deep as I fancied, not more than twenty or five-
and-twenty feet, and the sides were covered with
plants and grass, which, although they bent beneath
our weight, prevented us from falling perpendicularly.
The chief was the first to reach the bottom of the
abyss, and I fell upon his body, which deadened my
fall, though it was serious enough entirely to deprive
me of consciousness. I cannot say how long I re¬
mained in this state, but, from a calculation I made
afterwards, my faint must have lasted two hours. I
was aroused by a cold sensation which suddenly affected
me. I opened my eyes again, and foimd myself in
utter darkness. At the first moment it was impos¬
sible for me to account for tho situation in which I
found myself, or what events had placed me in it ; but
THE DEAD ALITE.
my memory gradually returned, my thougtts became
more lucid, and I only desired to emerge as speedily
as possible from the pit into which 1 had fallen. I
was suffering fearfully, although I was not actually
wounded. I had received numerous contusions in my
fall, and the slightest movement caused me an atrocious
pain, for I was so bruised and shaken. In my present
state I must endure the evil patiently : attempting to
scale the sides of the pit when my strength was com¬
pletely exhausted would have been madness, and I
therefore resigned myself to waiting. I was in com¬
plete darkness, but that did not trouble me greatly,
as I had about me everything necessary to light a fire.
Within a few moments I had a light, and was enabled
to look about me. I was lying at the bottom of a
species of funnel, for the pit grew narrower in its
descent, which had greatly helped to deaden my fall ;
my feet and legs almost to the knee were bathed in a
subterranean stream, while the upper part of my
body leant against the corpse of the Indian chief.
The spot where I found myself was thirty feet in cir¬
cumference at the most, and I assured myself by the
help of my light that the sides of the pit, entirely
covered with creepers, and even sturdy shrubs, rose
in a gentle slope, and would not be difilcult to esca¬
lade when my strength had sufficiently returned. At
this moment I could not dream of attempting the
' ascent, so I bravely made up my mind, and although
my anxiety was great about the friends I had left in
'the cavern, I resolved to wait a few hours before pro-
20
THE BED TEACK.
ceeding to save myself. I remained thus for twenty
nours at the bottom of the pit, tête-à-tête with my
enemy's corpse. Many times during my excursions in
the desert I had found myself in almost desperate
situations, but never, I call heaven to witness, had I
felt so completely abandoned and left in the hands of
Providence. Still, however deplorable my position
might be, I did not despair ; in spite of the frightful
pain I suffered, X had convinced myself that my
limbs were in a satisfactory state, and that all I needed
was patience. When I fancied my strength suffi¬
ciently restored, I lighted two torches, which I fixed
in the ground, in order to see more clearly. I threw
my rifle on my bach, placed my navaja between my
teeth, and clinging to the shrubs, by a desperate
effort I began my ascent. I will not tell you of the
difficulty I had in conquering the terrible shocks I
was obliged to give my aching bones in surmounting
almost unsurpassable obstacles ; sufficient for you to
know that I reached the mouth of the pit after an
hour and a-half's struggle, in which I expended all
the energy a man possesses who hopes to save himself.
When I reached the floor of the cavern, I lay for
more than half-an-hour on the sand, exhausted, pant¬
ing, unable to make the slightest movement, scarce
breathing, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, not even
conscious of the frightful state into which I was
plunged. Portunately for me, this terrible condition
did not last long, the refreshing air from without«
reaching me through the passages of the cavern.
THE DEAD AlIVE.
21
recoTered me, and restored the entire use of my men¬
tal faculties. The groimd around me was covered
with dead bodies, and there had, doubtless, been a
terrible struggle between the white men and the
red skins. I sought in vain for the corpses of Doña
Anita and her father. I breathed again, and hope
re-entered my heart, for my sacrifice had not been
fruitless. Those for whom I had given my life were
saved, and I should see them again. This thought
restored my courage, and I felt quite a different man.
I rose without any excessive difficulty, and, supporting
myself on my rifle, went toward the mouth of the
cavern, after removing my stock of provision, and
taking two powder-horns from the stores I had pre¬
viously cached, and which my friends in their flight
had not thought of removing. No words can describe
the emotion I felt when, after a painful walk through
the grotto, I at length reached the river-bank, and *
saw the sun once more : a man must have been in a
similar desperate situation to understand the cry, or
rather howl of joy which escaped from my surcharged
bosom when I felt again the blessed srmbeams, and
inhaled the odorous breath of the savannah. By an
unreflecting movement, though it was suggested by
my heart, I fell on my knees, and piously clasping
my hands, I thanked Him who had saved me, and
who alone could do so. This prayer, and the simple
thanks expressed by a grateful heart, were, I feel con¬
vinced, home upwards to heaven on the wings of my
guardian angel.
22
THE BED TBA.CE.
• " As far as I could make out by tbe height of the
sun, it was about the second hour of the tarde. ■ The
deepest silence prevailed around me ; so far as the
vision could extend, the prairie was deserted ;
Indians and pale faces had disappeared : I was alone,
alone with that God who had saved me in so marvel¬
lous a fashion, and would not abandon me. Before
going further, I took a little nourishment, which the
exhaustion of my strength rendered necessary. When,
in the company of Don Sylva de Torres and his
daughter, I had sought a refuge in the cavern, our
horses had been abandoned with all the remaining fo¬
rage in an adjacent clearing, and I was too well ac¬
quainted vñth the instinct of these noble animals to ap¬
prehend that they had fled. On the contrary, I knew
that, if the hunters had not taken them away, I should
find them at the very spot where I had left them. A
horse was indispensable for use, for a dismoimted man
is lost in the desert, and hence I resolved to seek
them. Bested by the long halt I had made, and
feeling that my strength had almost returned, I .pro¬
ceeded without hesitation towards the forest. At my
second call I heard a rather loud noise in a clump of
trees j the shrubs parted, and my horse galloped up
and gladly rubbed its intelligent head against n^y
shoulder. I amply returned the caresses the feithM
companion of my adventures bestowed on me, and
then returned to the cavern, where my saddle was.
An hour later, mounted on my good horse, I bent my
steps toward houses. My journey was a long one,
THE DEAH AMTE.
23
owing to my state of weakness and prostration, and
when I reached Sonora the news I heard almost
drove me mad. Don Sylva de Torrès had been killed
in the fight with the Apaches, as was probably his
daughter, for no one could tell me anything about
hep. For a month I hovered between life and death ;
but Gnd in His wisdom, doubtless, had decided that I
should escape once again. When hardly convalescent,
I dragged myself to the house of the only man com¬
petent of giving me precise and positive information
about what I wanted to learn. This man refused to
recognize me, although I had kept up intimate rela¬
tions with him for many years. When I told him my
name he laughed in my face, and when I insisted, he
had me expelled by his peons, telling me that I was
mad, that Don Martial was dead, and I an impostor.
I went away with rage and despair in my heart.
As if they had formed an agreement, aU my friends to
whom I presented myself refused to recognize me, so
thoroughly was the report of my death believed, and
it had been accepted by them as a certainty. All the
efforts I attempted to dissipate this alarming mistake,
and prove the falsehood of the rumour were in vain, for
too many persons were interested in it being true, on
account of the large estates I possessed ; and also, I
suppose, through a fear of injuring the man to whom
I first applied—^the only living relation of the Torrès
family, who, through his high position, has immense
influence in Sonora. What more need I tell you, my
friend? Disgusted in every way, heart-broken with
24
THE HEB TBACK.
grief, and recognising the inutility of the efforts I
made against the ingratitude and systematic had
faith of those with whom 1 had to deal, I left the
town, and, mounting my horse, returned to the
desert, seeking the most unknown spots and the
most desolate regions in which to hide myself, and
die whenever God decrees that I have suffered suffi¬
ciently, and recals me to Him."
After saying this the Tigrero was silent, and his
head sunk gloomily on his chest.
" Brother," Valentine said gently to him, slightly
touching his shoulder to attract his attention, " you
have forgotten to tell me the name of that influential
person who had you turned out of his house, and
treated you as an impostor."
"That is true," Don Martial answered; "his
name is Don Sebastian Guerrero, and he is military
governor of the province of Sonora."
The hunter quickly started to his feet with an ex¬
clamation of joy.
" Don Martial," he said, " you may thank God for
decreeing that we should meet in the desert, in order
that the punishment of this man should be complete."
THE COMPACT.
25
CHAPTEE III.
I
THS C0Ï1PACT.
Don IMabtial gazed at the hunter in amazement.
" "What do you mean ?" he asked him. " I don't
understand you."
"Ton will soon do so, my friend," Valentine
answered. " How long have you been roaming about
this neighbourhood ?"
" Nearly two months."
" In that case you are well acquainted, I presume,
with the mountains among which we are at this
moment ?"
" There is not a tree or a rock whose exact po¬
sition I caimot tell, nor a wild-beast trail which I
have not followed."
" Good : are we far fifom a spot called the ' Fort
of the Ghichimèques ?' "
The Tigrero reflected for a moment.
" Do you know by what Indians these mountainn
are inhabited ?" he at length asked.
" Yes, by poor wretches who call themselves the
Eoot-Eaters, and whom the hunters and trappers de¬
signate by the name of the ' "Worthy of Pity.' They
are, I believe, timid, harmless creatures, a species of
incomplete men, in whom brutal instincts have stifled
the intellect ; however, I only speak of them from
hearsay, for I never saw one of the poor devils."
23
THE BED TBACE.
"Tou are perfectly well informed about item, and
they are what you depict them, I have often had
opportunities of meeting them, and have lamented
the degree of brutalization into which this hapless
race has fallen."
" Permit me to remark that I do not see what
connection can exist between this unhappy tribe and
the information I'ask of you."
" There is a veiy great one. Since I have been
roaming about these mountains you are the first man
of my own coloxir with whom I have consented to
enter into relations. The Eoot-Eaters have neither
history nor traditions. Their life is restricted to
eating, drinking, and sleeping, and I have not learned
from them any of the names given to the majestic
peaks that surround us. Hence, though I perfectly
well know the spot to which you refer, unless you
describe it differently, it will be impossible for me to
tell you its exact position."
" That is true ; but what you ask of me is very
awkward, for this is the first time I have visited
these parts, and it will be rather difficult for me to
describe a place I am not acquainted with. Still, 1
will try.^ There is, not far from here, I believe, a
road which traverses the Eocky Mountains obliquely,
and runs from the TTnited States to Santa Pè ; at a
certain spot this road must intersect another which
leads to California."
" I am perfectly well acquainted with the roads
to which you refer, and the caravans of emigrants,
THE COMPACT.
27
hunters, and miners follow them in going to Cali¬
fornia, or returning thence."
" Grood ! At the spot where these two roads
cross they form a species of large square, surrounded
on all sides by rocks that rise to a considerable
height. Do you know the place I mean P"
" Tes," the Tigrero answered.
" Well, about two gun-shots from this square is a
track winding nearly in an east-south-east course,
along the side of the mountains. This track, at first
so narrow that a horse even passes with difficulty,
gradually widens till it reaches a species of esplanade,
or terrace, if you like it better, which commands
an extensive prospect, while on its edge are the
remains of barbarous erections, which can, however,
be easily recognized as an ancient parapet. This
terrace is called the 'Port of the Chichimèques,'
though for what reason I cannot teU you."
"I know no more than you do on that head,
although I can now assure you that I am perfectly
acquainted with the place to which you refer, and
have often camped there on stormy nights, because
there is a deep cavern, excavated by human hands,
and divided into several passages, every turning of
which I know, and which has offered me a precious
shelter during those frightful tempests which, at
intervals, overthrow the face of nature in these
regions."
" I was not aware of the existence of this grotto,"
the hunter said, with a glad start, " and I thank you
28
THE BED TBACH.
for iaving told me of it ; it will be very useful for
tbe execution of the plans I have formed. Are we
any great distance from this terrace ?"
"In a straight line, not more than five or six
miles, and, if it were day, I could show it to you ; but
as we must ride round to reach the caravan road,
which we are obliged to follow in order to reach the
tracks, we have about three hours' ride before us."
" That is a trifie, for I was afraid I had lost my
way in these mountains, which are strange to me. I
am delighted to find that my old experience has not
failed me this time, and that my hunter's instincts
have not deceived me."
While saying this, Valentine had risen to explore
the clearing. The storm had ceased, the wind had
swept away the clouds, the deep blue sky was
studded with brilliant stars, and the moon profusely
shed its rays, which imparted a fantastic appearance
to the landscape by casting the shadows of the lofty
trees athwart the snow, whose pallid carpet spread
far as eye could see.
" 'Tis a magnificent night," the hunter said,*after
carefully examining the sky for some moments. " It
is an hour past midnight, and I do not feel the
slightest inclination to sleep. Are you fatigued ?"
"I am never so," the Tigrero ans wered, with a smile.
" All right : in that case you are like myself, a
thorough wood-ranger. What do you think of a ride
in this magnificent moonlight ?"
" I think that after a good supper and an interest-
THE COMPACT.
29
ing conTersation nothing so thoroughly restores the
balance of a man's thoughts as a night ride in the
company of a friend."
" Bravo ! that is what I call speaking. Now, as
every ride to be reasonable should have an object, we
will go, if you have no objection, as far as the Fort of
the Chichimèques."
"I was about to propose it; and, as we ride
along, you will tell me in your turn what imperious
motive compelled you to come to these unknown re¬
gions, and what the project is to which you alluded."
" As for that," the hunter said, with a knowing
smile, " I cannot satisfy you ; at any rate not for the
present, as I wish you to have the pleasure of a sur¬
prise. But be easy, I will not put your patience to
too long a trial."
" Ton will act as you think proper, for I trust
entirely to you. I know not why, but I am per¬
suaded, either through a sentiment or. sympathy,that
in doing your own business you will be doing mine at
the same time."
" Ton are nearer the truth at this moment than
you perhaps imagine, so be of good cheer, brother."
" The happy meeting has already made a different
man of me," the Tigrero said, as he rose.
The hunter laid his hand on his shoulder. " One
moment," he said to him; "before leaving this
bivouac, whqre we met so providentially, let us clearly
agree as to our facts, so as to avoid any future mis¬
understanding."
30
the bed tback.
" " Be it so," Don Martial answered. " Let ns make
a compact in the Indian fashion, and woe to the one
who breaks it."
" Well said, my friend," Valentine remarked, as
he drew his knife from his belt. " Here is my na¬
vaja, brother; may it serve you as it has done me to
avenge your wrongs and mine."
" I receive it in the face of that Heaven which I
call as witness of the purity of my intentions. Take
mine in exchange, and one half my powder and bul¬
lets, broth|er."
" I accept it as a thing belonging to me, and here
is half my ammunition for you ; henceforth we cannot
fire at one another, all is in common between us.
Tour friends will be my friends, and you will point
out your enemies to me, so that I may aid you in your
vengeance. My horse is yours."
" Mine belongs to you, and in a few moments I
will place it at your service."
Then the two men, leaning shoulder to shoulder,
with clasped hands, eyes fixed on heaven, and out¬
stretched arm, uttered together the following words :
" I take God to witness that of my own free vrill,
and without reservation, I take as my friend and
brother the man whose hand is at this moment press¬
ing mine. I will help him in everything he asks of me,
without hope of reward, ready by day and night to
answer his first signal, without hesitation, and with¬
out reproach, even if he asked me for my life. I take
this oath in the presence of God, who sees and hears
THE COMPACT.
81
me, and may He come to my help in all I undertake,
and punish me if I ever break my oath."
There was something grand and solemn in this
simple act, performed by these two powerful men,
beneath the pallid moonbeams, and in the heart of
the desert, alone, far from all human society, face to
face with Gon, confiding in each, and seeming thus
to defy the whole world. repeating the words
of the oath, they kissed each other's lips in turn, then
embraced, and finally shook hands again.
" Now let us be ofi", brother," Valentine said ; " I
confide in you as in myself; we shall succeed iu
triumphing over our enemies, and repaying them all
the misery they have caused us."
" Wait for me ten minutes, brother ; my horse is
hidden close by."
" Go ; and during that time I wül saddle mine,
which is henceforth yours."
Don Martial hurried away, leaving Valentine
alone.
" This time," he muttered, " I believe that I have
at length met the man I have been looking for so
long, and whom I despaired to find ; with him, Cu-
rumilla, and Belhumeur, I can begin the struggle,
for I am certain I shall not be abandoned or
treacherously surrendered to the enemy I wish to
combat."
While indulging after his wont in this soliloquy,
the hunter had lassoed his horse, and was busily
engaged in saddling it. He had just put the bit in
32
THE BED TBACE.
its mouth, when the Tigrero re-entered the clearing,
mounted on a magnificent black steed.
Don Martial dismounted.
" This is your horse, my friend," he said.
" And this is yours."
The exchange thus effected, the two men mounted,
and left the clearing in which they had met so
strangely. TÍie Tigrero had told no falsehood when
he said that a metamorphosis had taken place in him,
and that he felt a different man. His features had
lost their marble-like rigidity ; his eyes were animated,
and no longer burned with a sombre and concentrated
fiire. Even though his glances were still somewhat
haggard, their expression was more frank and, before
all, kinder ; he sat firm and upright in the saddle, and,
in a word, seemed ten years younger. i
This unexpected change had not escaped the notice
of the all-observing Erenchman, and be congratulated
himself for having effected this moral cure, and saved
a man of such promise from the despair which he had
allowed to overpower him.
We have already said that it was a magnificent
night. Eor men like our characters, accustomed to
cross the desert in all weathers, the ride in the dark¬
ness was a relaxation rather than a fatigue. They
rode along side by side, talking on indifferent topics—
himting, trapping, expeditions against the Indians—
subjects always pleasing to wood-rangers, while rapidly
advancing towards the spot they wished to reach.
" By-the-bye," Valentine all at once said, " I must
THE COMPACT.
33
warn you, brother, that if you are not mistaken, aud
we are really following the road to the Fort of the
Chichimèques, we shall probably meet several persons
there ; they are friends of mine, with whom I have
an appointment, and I will introduce them to you ;
for reasons you will speedily learn, these friends fol>
lowed a different road from mine, and must have been
waiting for some time at the place of meeting."
" I do not care who the persons are we meet, as
they are friends of yours," the Tigrero answered;
" the main point is that we make no mistake."
** On my word, I confess my incompetence, so far
as that is concerned; this is the first time I have
ventured into the Eocky Mountains, where I hope
never to come again, and so I deliver myself entirely
into your hands."
" I will do my best, although I do not promise
positively to lead you to the place you want to
reach."
" Nonsense !" the hunter said with a smile ; " two
places like the one I have described to you can hardly
be found in these parts, picturesque and diversified
though they be, and it would be almost impossible to
lose our way."
" At any rate," the Tigrero answered, " we shall
soon know what we have to depend on, for we shall
be there within half an hour."
The sky was beginning to grow paler; the horizon
was belted by wide, pellucid bands, which assumed in
turn every " colour of the rainbow. In the flashing
n
8á
XHE BED TBACE.
uncertain light of dawn, objects were invested with a
more fugitive appearance, although, on the other
hand, they became morç distinct.
The adventurers had passed the cros3<roads, and
turned into a narrow track, whose capricious windings
ran along rocks, which were almost suspended over
frightful abysses. The riders had given up all attempts
to guide their horses, and trusted to their instinct ;
they had laid their bridles on their necks, leaving
them at liberty to go where they pleased—a prudent
precaution, which cannot be sufficiently recommended
to travellers imder similar circumstances.
All at once a streak of light illumined the land*
scape, and the sun rose radiant and splendid ; behind
them the travellers still had the shadows of night,
while before them the snowy peaks of the mountains
were glistening in the sun.
"Well," the hunter exclaimed, "we can now see
clearly, and I hope that we shall soon perceive the
Port of the Chichimèques."
" Look ahead of you over the jagged crest of that
' hill," the Tigrero answered, stretching out his arm ;
" that is the terrace to which I am leading you."
The hunter stopped, for he felt giddy, and almost
ready to fall off his horse. About two miles from
him, but separated from the spot where he stood by
an impassable cañón, an immense esplanade stretched
, out into space in the shape of a voladero ; that is to
say, in consequence of one of those earthquakes so
common in these regions, the base of the mountain
TES C0MPAC1*.
35
had been undermined, while the crest remained intact,
and hung for a considerable distance above a Valley,
apparently about to fall at any moment ; the spectacle
was at once imposing and terrific.
" Heaven forgive me !" the hunter muttered, " but
I really believe I was frightened; I felt all my
muscles tremble involuntarily. Oh ! I will not look at
it again ; let us get along, my friend."
They set out again, still following the windings of
the tract, which gradually grew steeper ; and, after a
very zigzag course, reached the terrace half an hour
later.
"This is certainly the place," the hunter ex¬
claimed, as he pointed to the decaying embers of a
watch-fire.
" But your friends— P" the Tigrero asked.
" Did you not tell me there was a grotto close by ?"
"Idid."
""Well, they doubtless concealed themselves in
the grotto , when they heard us approaching."
" That is possible."
i' It is true : look."
The hunter discharged his gun, and at the sound
three men appeared, though it was impossible to say
whence they came. They were Belhumeur, Black
Elk, and Eagle-head.
I
3G
the ueo tqacc.
CHAPTER rV.
she tbavellebs.
"We must now leave Valentine and his companions on
the esplanade of the Port of the Chichimeques, where
we shall join them again however, in order to attend
to other persons destined to play an important part
in the narrative we have undertaken to tell the reader.
About five or six leagues at the most from the
spot where Valentine and the Tigrero met, a caravan,
composed of some ten persons, had halted on the
same night, and almost at the same moment as the
hunter, in a narrow valley completely sheltered from
the wind by dense clumps of trees.
The caravan was comfortably lodged on the bank of
a running stream, the mules had been unloaded, a
tent raised, fires lighted ; and when the animals were
hobbled, the travellers began to make preparations for
their supper.
These travellers, or at any rate one of them,
appeared to belong to the highest class, for the rest
were only servants or Indian peons. StiU the dress
of this person was most simple, but his stiff manner,
his imposing demeanour, and haughty air, evidenced
the man long accustomed to give his orders without
admitting refusal or even the slightest hesitation.
He had passed his fiftieth year; he was tall,
well-built, and his movements were extremely elegant.
THE TBAVEIiIiEES.
87
His broad forehead, his black eyes large and flashing,
his long gray moustaches and his short hair gave him
a military appearance, which his harsh, quick way of
speaking did not contradict. Although he aflected a
certain afiahüity of manner, he at times involuntarily
betrayed himself, and it was easy to see that the
modest garb of a Mexican Campesino which he wore
was only a disguise. Instead of withdrawing beneath
the tent prepared for him, this person had sat down
before the flre with the peons, who eagerly made way
for him with evident respect.
Among the peons two men more especially at¬
tracted attention. One was a red-skin, the other
a half-breed, with a crafty, leering manner, who, for
some reason or another, stood on more familiar terms
with his master ; his comrades called him Ho Carnero,
and at times gave him the title of Capataz.
Ho Camero was the wit of the caravan, the funny
fellow—ever ready to laugh and joke, smoking an
eternal cigar, and desperately strumming an insup¬
portable guitar. Perhaps, though, he concealed be¬
neath this frivolous appearance a more serious cha¬
racter and deeper thoughts than he would have liked
to display. "
The red-skin formed the most complete contrast
with the capataz ; he was a tall, thin, dry man, with
angular features and gloomy and sad face, illumined
by two black eyes deeply set in their orbit, but con¬
stantly in motion, and having an undefinable expres¬
sion; his aquiline nose, his wide mouth lined with
88
THE BED TBÁCK.
large teeth as white as almonds, and his thin pinched-
up lips, composed a far from pleasant countenance,
which was rendered still more lugubrious by the
obstinate silence of this man, who only spoke when
absolutely compelled, and then only in monosyllables.
Like all the Indians, it was impossible to form any
opinion as to his age, for his hair was black as the
raven's wing, and his parchment skin had not a single
wrinkle ; at any rate he seemed gifted with no ordinary
strength.
He had engaged at Santa Fé to act as guide to the
caravan, and, with the exception of his obstinate
' silence, there was every reason to be satisfied with the
way in which he performed his duty. The peons
called him The Indian, or sometimes José—a mocking
term employed in Mexico to designate the Indios
mansos; but the red-skin appeared as insensible to
compliments as to jokes, and continued coldly to
carry out the task he had imposed on himself. When
supper was ended, and each had lit his pipe or
cigarette, the master turned to the capataz.
" Carnero," he said to him, " although in such
frightful weather, and in these remote regions, we
have but little to fear from horse thieves, still do not
fail to place sentries, for we cannot be too provident."'
"I have warned two men, mi amo," the capataz
replied ; " and, moreovei-, I intend to make my rounds
to-night ; eh, José," he added, turning to the Indian,
" are you certain you are not mistaken, and that you '
really lifted a trail ?"
«HE TBAVEI.1EHS.
S9
The red-shin shrugged his shoulders disdainfully,
and continued his quiet smoke.
" Do you know to what nation the sign you dis¬
covered belongs ?" the master asked him.
The Indian gave a nod of assent.
" Is it a formidable nation ?"
" Crow," the red-skin answered hoarsely.
" Carai!" the master exclaimed, "if they are Crows,
we shall do well to be on ouf guard, for they are the
cleverest plunderers in the Eocky Mountains."
"Nonsense!" Carnero remarked with a grin of
derision, " do not believe what that man tells you ;
the mezcal has got into his head, and he is trying to
make himself of importance ; Indians tell as many lies
as old women."
The Indian's eye flashed; without deigning to
reply he drew a mocassin from his breast, and threw it
BO adroitly at the capataz as to strike him across the
face. Furious at the insult so suddenly offered him
by a man whom he always considered inoffensive, the
half-breed uttered a yeU of rage, and rushed knife in
hand on the Indian.
But the latter had not taken his eye off him, and
by a slight movement he avoided the desperate attack
of the capataz ; then, drawing himself up, he caught
him round the waist, raised him from the ground as
easy as he would have done a child, and hurled him
into the flre, where he writhed for a moment with
cries of pain and impotent passion. When he at
length got out of the fire, half scorched, he did not
40
THE BSD TBACE.
think of renewing the attack, but sat down growling
and directing savage glances at his adversary, like a
turnspit punished by a mastiff. The master had wit*
nessed this< aggression with the utmost indifference,
and having picked up the mocassin, which he carefully
examined—
" The Indian is right," he said, coldly, " this mo¬
cassin bears the mark of the Qrow nation. My poor
Camero, you must put up with it, for though the
punishment you received was severe, I am forced to
allow that it was deserved."
The red-skin had begun smoking again as quietly
as if nothing had occurred.
" The dog will pay me for it with his traitor face,"
the capataz growled, on hearing his master's warning.
" I am no man if I do not leave his body as food for
the crows he discovers so cleverly."
" My poor lad," his master continued, with a jeer,
you had better forget this affair, which I allow might
be disagreeable to your self-esteem ; for I fancy you
would not be the gainer by recommencing the quarrel."
The capataz did not answer ; he looked round at
the spectators to select one on whom he could vent his
spite, without incurring any extreme risk; but the
peons were on their guard, and offered him no chance.
He then, with an air of vexation, made a signal to two
men to follow him, and left the circle grumbling.
The head of the caravan remained for a few minutes
plunged in serious thought; he then withdrew be¬
neath his tent, the curtain of which fell behind him ;
THE TEATEllEES.
41
anû the peons lay down on the gronnd, one after the
other, with their feet to the fire, and carefully wrapped
up in their serapes, and fell asleep.
The Indian then took the pipe-stem from his
mouth, looked searchingly around him, shook out the
ashes, passed the pipe through his belt, and, rising
negligently, went slowly to crouch at the foot of a
tree, though not before he had taken the precaution
of wrapping himself in his buffalo robe, a measure
which the sharp air rendered, if not indispensable, at >
any rate necessary.
Ere long, with the exception of the sentries lean¬
ing on their guns and motionless as statues, all the
travellers were plunged in deep sleep, for the capataz
himself, in spite of the promise he had made his '
master, had laid himself across the entrance of the
tent.
An hour elapsed ere anything disturbed the silence
that prevailed in the camp. All at once a singular
thing happened. The buffalo robe, under which the
Indian was sheltered, gently rose with an almost im¬
perceptible movement, and the red-skin's face ap¬
peared, darting glances of fire into the gloom. In a
moment the guide raised himself slowly along the
trunk of the tree against which he had been lying,
embraced it with his feet and hands, and with undu¬
lating movements resembling those of reptiles, he left
the ground, and raised himself to the first branches,
among which he disappeared.
This ascent was executed with such well-calculated
42
THE BED TBACE.
slowness tbat it had not produced the slightest sound.
Moreover, the buffalo robe left at the foot of the tree
so well retained its primitive folds, that it was im¬
possible to discover, without touching it, that the man
it sheltered had left it.
When the guide was thoroughly concealed among
the leaves, he remained for a moment motionless;
though not in order to regain his breath after having
made such an expenditure of strength, for this man was
made of iron, and fatigue had no power over him. But
he probably wished to look about him, for with his body
bent forward, and his eyes fixed on space, he inhaled
the breeze, and his glances seemed trying to pierce
the gloom.
Before selecting as his resting-place the foot of
the tree in which he was now concealed, the guide had
assured himself that this tree, which was very high and
leafy, was joined at about two-thirds of its height by
other trees, which gradually rose along the side of the
mountain, and formed a wall of verdure.
After a few minutes' hesitation, the guide drew
m his belt, placed his knife between his teeth, and with
a certainty and lightness of movement which would
have done honour to a monkey, he commenced lite¬
rally hopping from one tree to another, hanging by his
arms, and clinging to the creepers, waking up, as he
passed, the birds, which flew away in alarm.
This strange journey lasted about three-quarters
of an hour. At length the guide stopped, looked
attentively around him, and gliding down the trunk
THE TBAVELI.EE8.
43
of the tree on which he was, reached the ground. The
spot where he now found himself was a rather spacious
clearing, in the centre of which blazed an enormous
fire, serving to warm forty or fifty red-skins, com¬
pletely armed and equipped for war. Still, singular
to say, the majority of these Indians, instead of their
long lances and the bows they usually employ, carried
muskets of American manufacture, which led to the
supposition that they were picked warriors and great
braves of their nation ; and this, too, was further
proved by the numerous wolf-tails fastened to their
heels, a honourable insignia which only renowned war¬
riors have the right to assume.
This detachment of red-skins was certainly on the
war-trail, or at any rate on a serious expedition, for
they had with them neither dogs nor squaws. In spite
of the slight care with which the Indians are wont to
guard themselves at night, the -free and deliberate
manner in which the guide entered their encamp¬
ment proved that he was expected by these warriors,
who evinced no surprise at seeing him, but, on the
contrary, invited him with hospitable gestures to take
a seat at their fire. The guide sat down silently, and
began smoking the calumet which the chief seated by
his side immediately offered him. This chief was still
a young man, his marked features displaying the
utmost craft and boldness. After a rather lengthened
interval, doubtless expressly granted the visitor to let
him draw breath and warm himself, the yoimg chief
bowed to him and addressed him deferentially.
THE BED TEACK.
" My father is welcome among his sons ; they were
impatiently awaiting his arrival."
The guide responded to this compliment with a
grimace, in all probability intended to pass muster for
a smile. The chief continued :—
" Our scouts have carefully examined the encamp¬
ment of the Toris, and the warriors of the Jester are
ready to obey the instructions given them by their
great sachem. Eagle-head. Is my father Cummilla
satisfied with his red children ?"
Curumilla (for the guide was no other than the
reader's old acquaintance the Araucano chief) laid his
right hand on his chest, and uttered with a guttural
accent the exclamation, " Ugh !" which was with him
a mark of the greatest joy.
The Jester and his warriors had been too long
acquainted with Curumilla for his silence to seem
strange to them ; hence they yielded without repug¬
nance to his mania, and carefully giving up the hope
of getting a syllable out of his closed lips, began with
him a conversation in signs.
We have already had occasion, in a previous work,
to mention that the red-skins have two languages, the
written and the sign language. The latter, which has
among them attained a high perfection, and which all
imderstand, is usually employed when hunting, or on
expeditions, when a word pronounced even in a low
voice may reveal the presence of an ambuscade to the
enemy, wiiether men or beasts, whom they are pur.«
suing, and desire to surprise.
TUE XBATELEEBS.
45
It would bave been interesting, and even amusing,
for any stranger who bad been present at this inter¬
view to see with what rapidity the gestures and signs
were exchanged between these men, so strangely lit
up by the ruddy glow of the fire, and who resembled,
with their strange movements, their stem faces, and
singular attitudes, a council of demons. At times
the Jester, with his body bent forward, and emphatic
gestures, held a dumb speech, which his comrades fol¬
lowed with the most sustained attention, and which
they answered with a rapidity that words themselves
could not have surpassed.
At length this silent coimcil terminated. Curu-
milla raised his hand to heaven, and pointed to the
stars, which were beginning to grow dim, and then
left the circle. The red-skins respectfully followed
him to the foot of the tree by the aid of which he had
entered their camp. When he reached it, he turned
round.
"May the Wacondah protect my father!" the
Jester then said. " His sons have thoroughly under¬
stood his instructions, and will follow them literally.
The great pale hunter will have joined his friends
by this hour, and he is doubtless awaiting us. To¬
morrow Koutonepi will see his Comanche brothers.
At the eniitha the camp will he raised."
"It is good," Curumilla answered, and saluting for
the last time the warriors, who bowed respectfully
before him, the chief seized the creeping plants, and,
raising himself by the strength of his wrists, in a
46
THB BED TBACC.
second lie reached the branches, and disappeared in
the foliage.
The journey the Indian had made was very impor¬
tant, and needed to be so for him to run such great
risks in order to have an interview at this hour of the
night with the red-skins ; but as the reader will soon
leam what were the consequences of this expedition,
we deem it unnecessary to translate the sign language
employed during the council, or explain the resolu¬
tions formed between Curumilla and the Jester.
The chief recommenced his aerial trip with the
same lightness and the same good fortune. After a
lapse of time comparatively much shorter than that
which he had previously employed, he reached the
camp of the white men. The same silence prevailed
in its interior ; the sentinels were still motionless at
their post, and the watch-fires were beginning to
expire.
The chief assured himself that no eye was fixed
on him—that no spy was on the watch ; and, feeling
certain of not being perceived, he slid silently down
the tree and resumed the place beneath the bufialo-robe
which he was supposed not to have left during the
night.
At the moment when, after taking a final glance
around, the Indian chief disappeared beneath his
robe, the capataz, who was lying athwart the en¬
trance of the hut, gently raised his head, and looked
with strange fixity of glance at the place occupied by
the red-skin.
THE TOBT OB THE CHIOHIMiqtTES. Í7
Had a suspicion been aroused in the Mexican's
mind P Had he noticed the departure and return of
the chief? Presently he let his head ßdl again, and
it would have been impossible to read on his motion¬
less features what were the thoughts that troubled
him.
The remainder of the night passed tranquilly and
peacefully.
CHAPTER V.
THE rOET OE THE CHICHIMÍiQUES.
The sun rose; its beams played on the trembling
yellow leaves of the trees, and tinged them mth a thou¬
sand shades of gold and purple. The birds, cozily
nestled in the bushes, struck up their matin carol;
the awakening of nature was as splendid and imposing
as it is in all mountainous countries.
The leader of the caravan left his tent and gave orders
to strike the camp. The tent was at once folded up,
the mules were loaded, and, so soon as the horses were
saddled, the party started without waiting for the
morning meal, for they generally breakfasted at the
eleven o'clock halt, while resting to let the great heat
of the day subside.
The caravan advanced along the road from Santa
I"é to the United States, at a speed unusual under
such circumstances. A military system was affected
áS
TUE OED TSACE.
wilich was imposing, and, indeed, indispensable in
these regions, infested not merely by numerous bands
of predatory Indians, but also traversed by the pi¬
rates of the prairie, more dangerous bandits still, who
were driven by their enemies beyond the pale of the
law, and who, ambushed at the turnings of roads or
in broken rocks, attacked the caravans as they passed,
and pitilessly massacred the travellers, after plunder¬
ing them of all they possessed.
About twenty yards ahead of the caravan rode
four men, vrith their rifles on their thigh, preceded
by the guide, who formed the extreme vanguard.
Next came the main body, composed of six well-
armed peons, watching the mules and baggage, under
the immediate orders of the chief of the caravan.
Lastly, the capataz rode about thirty paces in the
rear, having under his orders four resolute men armed
to the teeth.
Thus arranged to face any event, the caravan en¬
joyed a relative security, for it was not very probable
that the white or red pillagers, who were doubtless
watching it, would dare to attack in open day seven¬
teen resolute and trained men. At night the horse-
thieves, who glide silently in the darkness during the
sleep of the travellers, and carry off horses and bag¬
gage, were more formidable.
Still, either through accident, or the prudential
measures employed by the chief of the caravan,
since they had left Santa Pé, that is to say for more
than a month, the Mexicans had not seen an Indian,
THE FOET OF THE CHICHIMÈQUES. 49
or been alarmed. They had journeyed—apparently
at least—^with as much tranquillity as if, instead of
being in the heart of the Eocky Mountains, they were
moving along the roads in the interior of Sonora.
This security, however, while augmenting their conh>
dence, had not caused their prudential measures to
be neglected; and their chief, whom this unusual
leniency on the part of the villains who prowl about
these countries alarmed, redoubled his vigilance and
precautions to avoid a surprise and a collision with the
plunderers.
The discovery, made on the previous day by the
guide, of an Indian Crow trail—the most determined
thieves in these mountains—added to his apprehen¬
sions ; for he did not hide from himself that, if he
were compelled to fight, in spite of the courage and
discipline of his peons, the odds would be against
him, when fighting men thoroughly acquainted with
the country, and who would only attack him with
numbers sufficient to crush his band, however despe¬
rate the resistance ofiered might be.
When he left the camp, the chief of the caravan,
sufiering perhaps from a gloomy foreboding, spurred
his horse and joined the Indian, who, as we said, was
marching alone in front, examining the bushes, and
apparently performing all the duties of an experienced
guide. Curumilla, though he heard the hurried
paces of the Mexican's horse, did not turn round, but
continued trotting along carelessly on the sorry mule
allotted to him for this expedition.
E
50
THE BED TBACB.
When the chief of the caravan joined him and
brought his horse alongside the Indian, instead of
speaking to liim, he attentively examined him for
some minutes, trying to pierce the mask of stoicism
spread over the guide's features, and to read his
thoughts. But, after a rather lengthened period, the
Mexican was constrained to recognize the inutility of
his efforts, and to confess to himself the impossibility
of guessing the intentions of this man, for whom, in
spite of the service he had rendered the caravan, he felt
an instinctive aversion, and whom he would like to
force, at all risks, to make a frank explanation.
" Indian," he said to him in Spanish, " I wish to
speak with you for a few moments on an important
subject, so bo good enough to put off yoru- usual
silence for awhile and answer, like an honest man,
the questions I propose asking you."
Curumilla bowed respectfully.
" Tou engaged with me, at Santa Be, to lead me,
for the sum of four ounces, of which you received one
half in advance, to lead me, I say, safely to the fron¬
tiers of Upper I. léxico. Since you have been in my
service I must allow that I have only had reason to
praise the prudence in which you have performed your
duties ; but we are at this moment in the heart of the
Eocky Mountains, that is to say, we have reached the
most dangerous part of our long journey. Two days ago
you lifted the trail of Crow Indians, very formidable
enemies of caravans, and I want to consult with you
as to the means to emplov to foil the snares in which
THE EOET OE THE CHI0HIMEQUE3. 51
these Indians will try to catch us, and to know what
measures you intend to employ to avoid a meeting with
them'; in a word,I want to know your plan of action."
The Indian, without replying, felt in a bag of
striped calico thrown over his shoulder, and produced
a greasy paper, folded in four, which he opened and
offered the Mexican.
" What is this ?" the latter asked, as he looked
and ran through it. " Oh, yes, certainly ; your en¬
gagement. Well, what connection has this with the
question I asked you ?"
Curumilla, still impassive, laid his finger on the
paper, at the last paragraph of the engagement.
" Well, what then ?" the Mexican'exclaimed, ill-
humouredly. " It is said there, it is true, that I must
trust entiaely to you, and leave you at liberty to act
as you please for the common welfare, without ques¬
tioning you."
The Indian nodded his head in assent.
"Well, mío à Brios!" the Mexican shouted,
irritated by this studied coolness, in spite of his re¬
solve to curb his temper, and annoyed at the man's
obstinate refusal to answer, "what proves to me that
you are acting for our common welfare, and that you
are not a traitor ?"
At this word traitor, so distinctly uttered by the
Mexican, Curumilla gave a tiger glance at the speaker,
while his whole body was agitated by a convulsive
tremor: he uttered two or three incomprehensible
guttxiral exclamations, and ere the Mexican could
52
THE BED TBACK.
suspect his intentions, he was seized round the waist,
lifted from the saddle, and hurled on the ground,
where he lay stunned.
Curumilla leapt from his mule, drew from his belt
two gold ounces, hurled them at the Mexican, and
then, hounding over the precipice that bordered the
road, glided to the bottom with headlong speed and
disappeared at once.
What we have described occurred so rapidly that
the peons who remained behind, although they hur¬
ried up at full speed to their master's assistance, arrived
too late on the scene to prevent the Indian's flight.
The Mexican had received no wound; the surprise
and i?iolence of the fall had alone caused his momen¬
tary stupor ; but almost immediately he regained his
senses, and comprehending the inutility and folly of
pursuit at such a spot with such an adversary, he
devoured his shame and passion, and, remounting his
horse, which had been stopped, he coolly gave orders to
continue the journey, with an internal resolution that,
if ever the opportunity oflered, he would have an ex¬
emplary revenge for the insult he had received.
for the moment he could not think of it, for more
serious interests demanded all his attention ; it was
evident to him that, in branding the guide as a traitor,
he had struck home, and that the latter, furious at
seeing himself unmasked, had proceeded to such ex¬
tremities in order to escape punishment, and find
means to fly safely.
The situation was becoming most critical for the
THE FOET OP THE CHICHmÈQUES. 53
chief of the caravan ; he found himself abandoned and
left without a guide, in unknown regions, doubtless
watched by hidden foes, and exposed at any moment
to an attack, whose result could but be unfavourable
to himself and his people ; hence he must form a vigor¬
ous resolve in order to escape, were it possible, the
misfortunes that menaced the caravan.
The Mexican was a man endowed with an ener¬
getic organization, brave to rashness, whom no peril,
however great it might be, had ever yet had the power
to make him blench ; in a few seconds he calculated all
the favourable chances left him, and his determination
was formed. The road he was following at this mo¬
ment was assuredly the one frequented by the cara¬
vans proceeding from the United States to California
or Mexico ; and there was no other road but this in
the mountains. Hence the Mexican resolved to form
an entrenched camp, at the spot that might appear to
him most favourable, fortify himself there as well as he
could, and await the passing of the first caravan, which
he would join.
ïhis plan was exceedingly simple, and in addition
very-easy to exepute. As the travellers possessed an
ample stock of provisions and ammunition, they had
no reason to fear scarcity, while, on the other hand,
seven or eight days in all probability would not elapse
without the appearance of a fresh caravan ; and ■ the
Mexican believed himself capable of resisting, behind
good entrenchments, with his fifteen peons, any white
or red plunderers who dared to attack him.
5é
THB ££B IBAOK.
So Boonastlxisresolutioixwas formed, the Mexican
at once prepared to carry it out. After having briefly
and in a few words explained to his disheartened peons
what his intentions were, and recommending them to
redouble their prudence, he left them, and pushed on
in order to reconnoitre the ground and select the most
suitable spot for the establishment of the camp.
He started his horse at a gallop and soon disap¬
peared in the windings of the road, but, through fear
of a sudden attack, he held his gun in his hand, and
his glances were constantly directed around him, exa¬
mining with the utmost care the thick chapparal which
bordered the road on the side of the mountain.
The Mexican went on thus for about two hours,
noticing that the further he proceeded the narrower
and more abrupt the track became. Suddenly it
widened out in front of him, and he arrived at an
esplanade, across which the road ran, and which was
no other than the Fort of the Chichimèques, previously
described by us.
The Mexican's practised eye at once seized the
advantages of such a position, and, without loss of
time in examining it in detail, he turned back to re¬
join the caravan. The travellers, though marching
much more slowly than their chief, had, however,
pushed on, so that he rejoined them about three-
quarters of an hour after the discovery of the terrace.
The flight of the guide had nearly demoralized
the Mexicans, more accustomed to the ease of tro¬
pical regions, and whose courage the snows of the
, THE rOBT OE THE CHICHIMÊQHES. 55
Eocky Mountains had already weakened, if not de¬
stroyed. Fortunately for the chief's plans he had
over his servants that influence which clever minds
know how to impose on ordinary natures, and the
peons, on seeing their master gay and careless
about the future, began to hope that they would
escape better than they had supposed from the un¬
lucky position in which they foimd themselves so
suddenly placed. The march was continued tran-
qidlly; no suspicious sign was discovered, and the
Mexicans were justified in believing that, with the
exception of the time they would be compelled to lose
in awaiting a new guide, the flight of the Indian
would entail no disagreeable consequences on them.
Singularly enough, Camero the capatax seemed
rather pleased than annoyed at the sudden disap¬
pearance of the guide. Far from complaining or
deploring the delay in the continuance of the journey
he laughed at what had happened, and made an in¬
finitude of more or less witty jests about' it, which in
the end considerably annoyed his master, whose joy
was merely on the surface, and who, in his heart,
cursed the mishap which kept them in the mountains,
and exposed him to the insults of the plunderers.
"Pray, what do you find so agreeable in what
has happened that you are or aflect to be so merry,
No Carnero ?" he at length asked with considerable
ill temper.
"Forgive me, mi amo," the capataz answered
humbly; "but you know the proverb, 'What can't
THE BED TEACK.
be cured must be endured,' and consequently I
forgot."
"Hum!" said the master, -without any other
reply.
" And besides," the caphtaz added, as he stooped
down to the chief, and almost whispering, " however
bad our position may be, is it not better to pretend
to consider it good ?"
His master gave him a piercing look, hut the
other continued imperturbably with an obsequious
smile—
" The duty of a devoted servant, mi amo, is to be
always of his master's opinion, whatever may happen.
The peons were murmuring this morning after your
departure, and you know what the character of these
brutes is ; if they feel alarmed we shall be lost, for it
will be impossible for us to get out of our position ;
hence I thought that I was carrying out your views
by attempting to cheer them up, and I feign a gaiety
which, be assured, I do not feel, under the supposition
that it would be agreeable to you."
The Mexican shook his head dubiously, but the
observations of the capataz were so just, the reasons
he offered appeared so plausible, that he was con¬
strained to yield and thank him, as he did not care
to alienate at this moment a man who by a word
could change the temper of his peons, and urge them
to revolt instead of adhering to their duty.
" I thank you. No Camero," he said, -with a con¬
ciliatory air. " Ton perfectly understood my inten-
THE FOET OP THE OHICnilTÈQUES. 57
tions. I am pleased with your devotion to my
person, and the moment will soon arrive, I hope,
when it will be in my power to prove to you the value
I attach to you."
" The certainty of having done my duty, now as
ever, is the sole reward I desire, mi amo," the capataz
answered, with a respectful how.
The Mexican gave him a side glance, but he re¬
strained himself, and it was with a smile that he
thanked the capataz for the second time. The latter
thought it prudent to break off the interview here,
and, stopping his horse, he allowed his master to
pass him. The chief of the caravan was one of those
unhappily constituted men who after having passed
their life in deceiving qr trying to deceive those with
whom the accidents of an adventurous existence have
brought them into contact, had reached that point
when he had no confidence in any one, and sought,
behind the most frivolous words, to discover an in¬
terested motive, which most frequently did not exist.
Although his capataz Carnero had been for a long
time in his service, and he granted him a certain
amount of familiarity—although he appeared to place
great confidence in him, and count on his devotion,
still, in his heart, he not only suspected him, but felt
almost confident, without any positive proof, it is
true, that he was playing a double game with him,
and was a secret agent of his deceivers.
What truth there might be in this supposition,
which held a firm hold of the Mexican's mind, we are
58
the bed tbach.
imable to say at present ; but tbe slightest actions of
bis capataz were watched by him, and he felt certain
that he should, sooner or later, attain a confirmation
of his doubts; hence, while feigning the greatest
satisfaction with him, he constantly kept on his guard,
ready to deal a blow, which would be the sharper be¬
cause it had been so long prepared.
A little before eleven a.m. the caravan reached
the terrace, and it was with a feeling of joy, which
they did not attempt to conceal, that the peons
recognized the strength of the position selected by
their master for the encampment.
" We shall stop here for the present," the Mexican
said. " Unload the mules, and light the fires. Im¬
mediately after breakfast we will begin entrenching
ourselves in such a way as to foü all the assaults of
marauders."
The peons obeyed with the speed of men who have
made a long journey and are begiuning to feel hungry;
the fires were lighted in an instant, and a few mo¬
ments later the peons vigorously attacked their maize
tortillas, their tocina, and their cecina—those in¬
dispensable elements of every Mexican meal. When
the hunger of his men was appeased, and they had
smoked their cigarettes, the chief rose.
" Now," he said, " to work."
TH£ SXJBPBI6£.
59
CHAPTEE VL
THE SUEPEISE.
The position which the leader of the caravan fancied
he had been the first to discover, and where he had
made up his mind to halt, was admirably selected to
establish an intrenched camp—strong enough to re¬
sist for months the attacks of the Indians and the
pirates of the prairies. The immense voladero hover¬
ing at a prodigious height above the precipices, and
guarded on the right and left by enormous masses of
rock, offered such conditions of security that the
peons regained all their merry carelessness, and only
regarded the mysterious flight of the guide as an
accident of no real importance, and which would have
no other consequences for them but to make their
journey somewhat longer than the time originally
arranged.
It was, hence, with well promising ardour that they
rose on receiving their chief's command, and prepared
\mder his directions to dig the trench which was in¬
tended to protect them from a surprise. This trench
was to be bordered by a line of tall stakes, running
across the open space between the rocks, which gave
the sole access to the terrace.
The head-quarters were first prepared, that is to
say, the tent was raised, and the horses hobbled
near picquets driven into the ground.
GO
THE BED TBÁOK.
At the moment when the leader proceeded with
sereral peons armed with picks and spades toward
the entrance, with the probable intention of marking
the exact spot where the trench was to be dug, the
capataz approached, him obsequiously, and said with
a respectful bow—
"Mi amo, I have an important communication
to make to you."
His master turned and looked at him with ill*
concealed distrust.
" An important communication to make to me ?"
he repeated.
"Tes, mi amo," the capataz replied with a bow.
" What is it ? Speak, but be brief. Carnero, for,
as you see, I have no time to lose."
" I hope to gain you time, excellency," the capa¬
taz said with a silent smile.
" Ah, ah, what is it ?"
"If you will allow me to say two words aside,
excellency, you will know at once."
" Diablo ! a mystery. Master Carnero ?"
" Mi amo, it is my duty to inform no one but your
excellency of my discovery."
" Hum ! then you have discovered something ?"
The other bowed, but made no further answer.
" Very well then," his master continued, " come
this way : go on, muchachos," he added, addressing
the peons, " I will rejoin you in a moment."
The latter went on, while the leader retired for a
few paces, followed by the capataz. When he con-
ÏHE SUBFItlSE.
CI
sideved that he had placed a sufficient distance be¬
tween himself and the ears of his people, he addressed
the half-breed again—
"Now, I suppose. Master Camero," he said,
" you will see no inconvenience in explaining your¬
self?"
" None at all, excellency."
" Speak then, in the fiend's name, and keep me no
longer in suspense."
" This is the aflair, excellency ; I have discovered
a grotto."
"What?" his master exclaimed, in surprise,
" you have discovered a grotto ?"
" Yes, excellency."
"Where?"
" Here."
" Here ! that's impossible."
" It's the fact, excellency."
" But where ?"
" There," he saia, stretching out his arm, " behind
that mass of rocks."
A suspicious look fiashed from beneath his mas¬
ter's eyelashes.
" Ah !" he muttered, " that is very singular.
Master Carnero ; may I ask in what manner you dis¬
covered this grotto, and what motive was so impe¬
rious as to take you among those rocks, when you
were aware how indispensable your presence was
elsewhere ?"
The capataz was not aifected by the tone in which
62
THE BEB TBACE.
these words were uttered ; he answered calmly, as if
he did not perceive the menace they contained—
" Oh ! mi amo, the discovery was quite accidental,
I assure you."
" I do not believe in chance," his master answered
" but go on."
" When we had finished breakfast," the capataz
continued, soothingly, " I perceived, on rising, that
several horses, mine among them, had become unfas¬
tened, and were straying in different directions."
" That is true," his master muttered, apparently
answering his own thoughts rather than the remarks
of the capataz."
The latter gave an almost imperceptible smile.
" Fearing," he continued, " lest the horses might be
lost, I immediately started in pursuit. They were
.easy to catch, with the exception of one, which rambled
among the rocks, and I was obliged to follow it."
" I understand ; and so it led you to the mouth of
the grotto."
" Exactly, mi amo ; I found it standing at the very
entrance, and had no difiBculty in seizing the bridle."
" That is indeed most singular. And did you enter
the grotto, Master Camero ?"
" No, mi amo. 1 thought it my duty to tell you^
of it first."
" You-were right. "Well, we will enter it together.
Fetch some torches of ocote wood, and show us the
way. By the by, do not forget to bring weapons, for
we know not what men or beasts we may find in
THE 8ÜBFBISE.
63
caverns thus opening on a high road." This he said
with a sarcastic air, which caused the capataz to
tremble inwardly in spite of his determined indif¬
ference.
"While he executed his master's orders, the latter
selected six of his peons, on whose courage he thought
he could most rely, ordered them to take their muskets,
and, bidding the others to keep a good watch, but not
begin anything till he returned, he made a signal to
the capataz that he was ready to follow him. No
Camero had followed with an evil eye the arrange¬
ments made by his master, but probably did not deem
it prudent to risk any remark, for he silently bowed
his head, and walked toward the pile of rocks that
masked the entrance of the grotto.
These granite blocks, piled one on top oi the other,
did not appear, however, to have been brought there
by accident, but, on the contrary, they appeared to
have belonged in some early and remote age to a
clumsy but substantial edifice, which was probably
connected with the breastwork still visible on the
edge of the voladero on the side of the preci¬
pice.
The Mexicans crossed the'rocks without difficulty,
and soon found themselves before the dark and frown¬
ing entrance of the cavern. The chief gave his peons
a signal to halt.
" It would not be prudent," he said, " to venture
without precautions into this cavern. Prepare your
arms, muchachos, and keep your eyes open ; at the
64
THE BED TEACK.
sliglitest suspicious sound, or the smallest object that
appears, fire. Capataz, light the torches."
The latter obeyed without a word ; the leader of
the caravan assured himself at a glance that his orders
had been properly carried out ; then taking his pistols
from his belt, he cocked them, took one in each hand,
and said to Camero—
" Take the lead," he said, with a mocking accent ;
" it is only just that you should do the honours of
this place which you so unexpectedly discovered.
Forward, you others, and be on your guard," he added,
turning to the peons.
The eight men then went into the cavern at the
heels of the capataz, who raised the torches above his
head, doubtless in order to cast a greater light on sur¬
rounding objects.
This cavern, like most of those found in these
regions, seemed to have been formed through some
subterranean convulsion. The walls were lofty, dry,
and covered at various spots with an enormous quan¬
tity of night-birds, which, blinded and startled by the
light of the torches, took to fiight with hoarse cries,
and flew heavily in circles round the Mexicans. The
latter drove them back with some difdculty by waving
their muskets. Eut the further they got into the
interior of the cavern, the greater the number of these
birds became, and seriously encumbered the visitors
by flapping them with their long wings, and deafening
them with their discordant cries.
They thus reached a rather large hall, into which
THE SHBPBISE.
65
several passages opened. Although the Mexicans
were a considerable distance from the entrance, they
found no difficulty in breathing, owing doubtless to
imperceptible fissures in the rock, through which the
air was received.
" Let us halt here for a moment," the leader said,
taking a torch from the capataz ; " this hall, if
the cavern has several issues as I suppose, will afford
us a certain refuge : let us examine the spot where
we are."
"While speaking he walked round the hall, and '
convinced himself, by certain still existing traces of
man's handiwork, that at a former period the cave
had been inhabited. The peons seated themselves
idly on the blocks of granite scattered here and there,
and with their guns between their legs carelessly fol¬
lowed their master's movements.
The latter felt the suspicions aroused in his mind
by the sudden nature of Camero's discovery gradually
dissipated. He felt certain that for many years no
human being had entered this gloomy cave, for none
of those fiying traces which man always leaves in his
passage, whatever precaution he may take to hide his
presence, had been discovered by him. All, on the
contrary, evidenced the most utter abandonment and
solitude, and hence the leader of the caravan was not
indisposed to retire to this spot, which was so easy of
defence, instead of throwing up an intrenched camp,
always a long and difficult task, and which had the
inconvenience of leaving men and animals exposed to
F
66
the bes tbace.
a deadly climate for individuals accustomed to the
heat of the Mexican temperature.
While continuing his explanations, the leader con¬
versed with the capataz in a more friendly manner
than he had done for a long time, congratulating him
on his discovery, and explaining his views, to which
the latter listened with his usual crafty smile. All at
once he stopped and listened—the two men were at
this moment at the entrance of one of the passages
to which we have referred.
"Listen," he said to the capataz,as he laid his
hand on his arm to attract his attention, " do you not
hear something ?"
The latter bent his body slightly forward, and
remained motionless for some seconds.
" I do," he said, drawing himself up, " it sounds
like distant thunder."
"Is it not? or, perhaps, the roUing of subter¬
ranean waters."
" Madre de Bios ! mi amo," the capataz exclaimed
gleefully. "I can swear that you are right. It
would be a piece of luck for us to find water in the
cave, for it would add greatly to our security, as we
should not be obliged to lead our horses, perhaps, a
long distance to drink."
" I wOl assure myself at once if there is any truth
in the supposition. The noise proceeds from that
passage, so let us follow it. As for our men they can
wait for us here ; we have nothing to fear now, for if
the pirates or the Indians were ambuscaded to su^
THE SHBPBISE.
67
prise us, they would not have waited so long before
doing so, and hence the assistance of our peons is un¬
necessary."
The capataz shook his head doubtfully.
"Hum," he said, "the Indians are very clever,
mi amo; and who knows what diabolical projects
those red-skins revolve in their minds ? I believe it
would be more prudent to let the peons accom¬
pany us."
"Nonsense," said his master, "it is unnecessary;
we are two resolute and well-armed men ; we have
nothing to fear, I tell you. Besides, if, against all
probability, we are attacked, our men will hear the
noise of the conflict, will run to our help, and will be
at our side in an instant."
" It is not very probable, I grant, that we have any
danger to apprehend ; still I considered it my duty as
a devoted servant, mi amo, to warn you, because in
the event of Indians being hidden in these passages,
of whose windings we are ignorant, we should be
caught like rats in a trap, with no possibility of escape.
Two men, however brave they may be, are incapable
of resisting twenty or thirty enemies, and you know
that Indians never attack white men save when they
are almost certain of success."
These words seemed to produce a certain impres¬
sion on the leader of the caravan. He remained silent
for a moment, apparently reflecting seriously on what
he had heard, but he soon raised his head, and shook
it resolutely.
68 THE BED TRACE.
" Nonsense ! I do not believe in the danger you
seem to apprehend ; after all, if it really exist, it will
be welcome. Wait here, my men, and be ready to
join us at the first signal," he added, addressing the
peons, who answered by rising and collecting in the
middle of the hall.
Their master left them a torch to light them during
his exploration, took the other, and turning to Carnero,
said, " Let us go."
They then entered the passage. It was veiy
narrow, and ran downwards with a steep incline, so
that the two men, who were unacquainted with its
windings, were obliged to walk with the most serious
attention, and carefully examining all the spots they
passed.
The further they proceeded, the more distinct the
sound of water became ; it was evident that at a very
short distance from the spot where they were, perhaps
but a few steps, there ran one of those subterranean
streams so frequently found in natural caverns, and
which are generally rivers swallowed up by an earth¬
quake.
All at once, without being warned by the slightest
sound, the leader of the caravan felt himself seized
round the waist, his torch was snatched roughly from
his hand, and extinguished against a rock, and himself
thrown down and securely boundj before he was able to
attempt the slightest resistance, so sudden and well cal¬
culated had the attack been. Camero had been thrown
down at the same time as his master, and bound.
THB SUBPBISü.
69
"Cowards, demons!" the Mexican yelled, as he
made a superhuman effort to rise and hurst his
bonds ; " show yourself, at least, so that I may know
with whom I have to deal."
"Silence! General Don Sebastian Guerrero," a
rough voice said to him, whose accent made him start,
in spite of all his courage ; " resign yourself to your
fate, for you have fallen into the power of men who
win not liberate you till they have had a thorough
explanation with you."
General Guerrero, whom the readers of the
"Indian Chief" will doubtless remember, made a
movement of impotent rage, but he was silent ; he
perceived that the originators of the snare of which
he was a victim were implacable enemies, as they
had not feared to call him by his name, and more
formidable than the pirates of the prairies or the red¬
skins, with whom he at first thought he had to deal.
Moreover, he thought that the darkness that sur¬
rounded him would soon cease, and then he would
see his enemies face to face, and recognize them.
But his expectations were deceived. When his
conquerors had home him to the hall, where his peons
were disarmed and guarded by peons, he saw, by the
light of the torch that faintly illumined the hall, that
among the men who surrounded him few wore the
Mexican costume, it was true, but had their faces
hidden by a piece of black crape, forming a species of
mask, and so well fastened round their necks, that it
was entirely impossible to recognize them.
70
THE BED TBACK.
" What do these-men want with me ?" he muttered,
as he let his head fall on his chest sadly.
" Patience !" said the man who had already spoken,
and who overheard the general's remark, " you will
soon know."
CHAPTEE Vn.
, THE EXPLAÎTATIOÎÎ.
Thebe was a short delay, during which the conquerors
appeared to be consulting together in a low voice ;
while doing so, an Indian chief, who was no other
than the Jester, entered the hall, and uttered a few
words in Comanche.
The general and the capataz were again picked up
by the red-skins, and at a sign from one of the
masked men, transported on to the voladero. The
appearance of the terrace had entirely changed duriog
the general's short absence, and offered at this moment
a most singular and picturesque scene.
One hundred and fifty to two hundred Indians,
mostly armed with guns, and ranged in good order
round the terrace, the centre of which remained free,
faced the cavern, having among them the disarmed
Mexicans, the baggage, horses, and mules of the
caravan.
The tent still stood solitary in the middle of what
was to have beeD the encampment ; but the curtain
was raised, and a horseman was standing in &ont of
THE EIPIANATIOB-.
71
it, as if to defend thé entrance, and protect the
precious articles it contained from pillage.
At the moment when the party emerged from the
cave, and appeared on the terrace, the horsemen
drawn up at the entrance of the defile opened out to •
the right and left, leaving a passage for a small troop
of men dressed in hunters' garb, and whom it was
easy to recognize as white men, by the colour of their
skin, although it was bronzed and freckled by the
sun ; two ladies, mounted on ambling mules, were in
the midst of them.
This troop of strangers was composed of eight
persons altogether, leading with them two baggage
mules. As the men were disarmed, and walked on
foot amid some fifty Indian horsemen, they had, in
all probability, been surprised by a party of red¬
skins, and made prisoners in some skUfully-arranged
ambuscade.
The two ladies, one of whom was of a'certain age
while the other appeared scarce eighteen, and who
might be supposed closely related, through the resem¬
blance of their features, were treated with an exquisite
politeness they were far from expecting by the
Indians, and conducted to the tent, which they were
requested to enter. The curtain was then lowered, to
conceal them from the glances of the Indians, whoso
expression, although respectful, must necessarily be
disagreeable to them.
The new comers, at a signal irom their conductors,
ranged theinselves with the other prisoners ; they were
72
THE BEB TBÁCE.
powerful men, with marked features, whom the Indians
had probably not given a chance to fight, otherwise
they looked as if they would sooner he killed than
yield.
They displayed neither fear nor depression, hut
their flashing looks and frowning hrows showed that
though they BÜently submitted to their fate, they
were far from being resigned, and would eagerly seize
the first opportunity to regain the liberty of which
they had been so treacherously deprived.
Still, in spite of the determination they had doubt¬
less formed to remain indifferent as to what took
place around them, they soon felt themselves inter¬
ested more than they liked in the straage drama which
they involuntarily witnessed, and whose gloomy pre¬
parations were of a nature to arouse their curiosity
to an eminent degree.
At the base of the rocks several blocks of granite
had been arranged in a semicircle, thus forming a re¬
semblance to that terrible Vehmic tribxmal, which in
olden times held its formidable assize on the banks of
the Ehine, before which kings and even emperors
were at times summoned to appear, and the resem¬
blance was rendered more striking by the care the
assailants took in hiding their features.
Two masked men took their seats on the granite
blocks, and the Indians who carried the general laid
him on the ground in front of this species of tribunal.
The person who seemed to be the president of this
sinister assembly gave a sign, the prisoner's bonds at
TUE EXPLANATION.
73
once fell off, and lie found himself once more able to
move hia limbs.
The general drew himself up, crossed his hands on
his chest, threw his body back haughtily, raised his head
and looked at the men who had apparently constituted
themselves his judges with a glance of withering
contempt.
" What do you want with me, bandits ?" he said »
" enough of this ; these insolent manœuvres will not
alarm me."
"Silence!" the president said coldly, "it is not
your place to speak thus."
Then he remarked to the Jester, who was standing
a few paces from him—
"Bring up the other prisoners, old and new;
everybody must hear wh^t is going to be said to this
man '
The Jester gave a signal to the warriors ; some of
them dismounted, approached the prisoners, and, after
loosening the cord that bound the capataz, they led
him, as well as the peons and the prisoners of the
second caravan, in front of the tribunal, where they
ranged themselves in line. Then, at a signal from the
Jester, the horsemen closed up round the white men,
who were thus hemmed in by Comanche warriors.
The spectacle offered by this assemblage of men,
with their marked features and quaint garb, grouped
without any apparent regularity on this voladero,
which was suspended as if artificially over a terrible
gulf, and leant against lofty mountains, with their
74
THE BED TBACE.
abrupt flanks and snoTiry «rest, was not without a
certain grandeur.
A deadly silence brooded at this moment over the
esplanade ; all chests were heaving, every heart was
oppressed. Eed-skins, hunters, and Mexicans all un¬
derstood instinctively that a grand drama was about
to be performed; invisible streams could he heard
hoarsely murmuring in the cavern, and at times a
gust of wind whistled over the heads of the horsemen.
The prisoners, aflected by a vague and undefined
terror, waited with secret anxiety, not knowing what
fate these ferocious victors reserved for them, but cer¬
tain that, whatever the decision formed about them
might be, prayers would be impotent to move them,
and that they would have to endure the atrocious tor¬
ture to which they would doubtless be condemned.
The president looked round the assembly, rose in
the midst of a profound silence, stretched out his arm
towards the general, who stood cold and passionless be¬
fore him, and, after darting at him a withering glance
' through the holes made in the crape that concealed his
face, he said in a grave, stem, and impressive voice—
" Caballeros, remember the words you are about to
hear, listen to them attentively, so as to imderstand
them, and not to be in error as to our intentions.
In the first place, in order to reassure you and restore
your entire freedom of mind, leam that you have not
fallen into the hands of Indians thirsting for your
blood, or of pirates who intend to plunder you firat
and assassinate you afterwards. I^o, you need not
THE EXPliîTATION.
75
feel the slightest alarm. "When you have acted as im¬
partial witnesses, and are able to render testimony of
what you have seen, should it be required, you will
be at liberty to continue your journey, without the
forfeiture of a single article. The men seated on my
right and left, although masked, are brave and honest
hunters. The day may perhaps arrive when you will
know them ; but reasons, whose importance you will
speedily recognize, compel them to remain unknown
for the present. I was bound to say this, señores, to
you, against whom we bear no animosity, before
coming to a final settlement with this man."
One of the travellers belonging to the second cara¬
van stepped forward ; he was a young man, with
elegant and noble features, tall and well, built.
" Caballero," he answered, in a distinct and sym¬
pathizing voice, "I thank you, in the name of my
companions and myself, for the reassuring words
you have spoken. I know how implacable the laws
of the desert are, and have ever submitted to them
without a murmur ; but permit me to ask you one
question."
" Speak, caballero."
" Is it an act of vengeance or justice you are about
to carry out ?"
" Neither, señor. It would be an act of folly or
weakness if the inspirations of the heart could be
blamed or doubted by honourable and loyal men."
" Enough of this, señor," the general said, haugh¬
tily ; " and if you are, as you assert, an honourable
7G
TUE I{ED TBACK.
man, sliow me your face, in order that I may know
with whom I have to deal."
The president shrugged his shoulders contemptu¬
ously.
" No, Don Sebastian," he said, " for in that case
the game would not he even between us. But be
patient, caballero, and soon you will leam, if not who
I am, at any rate the motives which have made me
your implacable foe."
The general attempted to smile, but in spite of
himself the smile died away on his lips, and though
his haughty bearing seemed to defy his unknown
enemies, a secret apprehension contracted his heart.
There was a silence for some moments, during
which no other sound was audible save that of the
breeze whistling through the denuded branches and
the distant murmur of the invisible torrents in the
guebradas.
The president looked round with flashing eyes, and,
folding his arms on his chest at the same time, as he
raised his head, he began speaking again in a sharp,
cutting voice, whose accents caused his hearers to trem¬
ble involuntarily. And yet they were brave men, ac¬
customed to the terrible incidents of a desert life, and
whom the most serious dangers could not have affected.
" Now listen, señores," he said, " and judge this
man impartially ; but do not judge him according to
prairie law, but in yoim hearts. General Don Sebas¬
tian Guerrero, who is standing so bold and upright
before you at this moment, is one of the gi-eatest
THE EIPLANATIOIT.
77
noblemen of Mexico, a Chñstiano viejo of tbe purest
blood, descended in a direct line from tbe Spanish
Conquistadors. His fortune is immense, incalculable,
and he himself could not determine its amount. This
man, by the mere strength of his will, and the im¬
placable egotism that forms the basis of his character,
has always succeeded in everything he has undertaken.
Coldly and resolutely ambitious, he has covered with
corpses the bloody road he was compelled to follow
in order to attain his proposed object, and he has
done so without hesitation or remorse ; he has looked
on with a snailing face, when his dearest friends and
his nearest relations fell by his side ; for him nothing
which men respect exists—faith and honour are with
him but empty sounds. He had a daughter, who was
the perfection of women, and he coldly lacerated that
daughter's heart ; he fatally drove her to suicide, and
the blood of the poor girl spirted on his forehead,
while he was triumphantly witnessing the legal mur¬
der of the man she loved, and whose death he resolved
on, because he refused to palter with his honour, and
aid this man in the infamous treachery he was medi¬
tating. This human-faced tiger, this monster with
the mocking, sceptical face, yon see, señores, has only
one thought, one object, one desire—it »is, to attain
the highest rank, even if, to effect it, he were com¬
pelled to clamber over the panting corpses of his
relations and friends sacrificed to his ambition ; and if
he cannot carve out an independent kingdom in this
collapsing republic, which is called Mexico, he wishes
78 lUE EED TBACE.
to seize, at least, on the supreme magistracy, and be
elected president. If this man's life merely comprised
this egotistic ambition and these infamous schemes
to satisfy it, I should content myself with despising,
instead of hating him, and not being able to find an
excuse for him, I should forget him. But no ; this
man has done more—^he dared to lay hands on a man
who was my friend, my brother, the Count de Prébois
Graneé, to whom I have already referred, señores,
without mentioning his name. Unable to conquer
the count loyally, despairing of winning him over to
his shameful cause, he at first tried to poison him ;
but, not having succeeded, and wishing to come to an
end, he forgot that his daughter, an angel, the sole
creature who ^oved him, and implored divine mercy
for him, was the betrothed wife of the count, and that
killing him would be her condemnation to death. In
his horrible thirst for revenge, he ordered the judicial
murder of my friend, and coldly presided at the execu¬
tion, not noticing, in the joyous deliverance of his
satisfied hatred, that his daughter had killed herself at
his side, and that he was trampling her corpse beneath
his horse's feet. Such is what this man has done ;
look at him well, in order to recognize him hereafter ;
he is General Don Sebastian Guerrero, military
governor of Sonora."
"Oh!" the audience said involuntarily, as they
instinctively recoiled in horror.
" If this man is the ex-governor of Sonora," the
hunter who had already spoken said, in disgust " he
THE EXPLAHAIIOK.
70
is a wild beast, wbom his ferocity has placed beyond
the pale of society, and it is the duty of honest men
to destroy him."
"He must die! he must die!" the new comers
exclaimed.
The general's peons were gloomy and downcast ;
they hung their heads sadly, for they did not dare
attempt to defend their master, and yet did not like
to accuse him.
The general was still cool and unmoved ; he was
apparently calm, but a fearful tempest was raging in
his heart. His face was of an earthy and cadaverous
pallor ; his brows were contracted till they touched,
and his violet lips were closed, as if he were making
violent efforts not to utter a word, and to restrain his
fury from breaking out in insults. His eyes flashed
fire, and then his whole body was agitated by convul¬
sive movements, but he managed, through his' self-
command, to conquer his emotion, and retain the
expression of withering contempt, which he had
assumed since the beginning of this scene.
Seeing that his accuser was silent, he took a step
forward, and stretched out his arm, as if he claimed
the right of answering. But his enemy gave him no
time to utter a word.
"Wait!" he shouted, "I have not said all yet;
now that X have revealed what you have done, I am
bound to render the persons here present judges not
only of what I have done, but also of what I intend
to do in future against you."
80
ihe bed teack.
CHAPTEE VIII.
A deceaeatioe op wae.
Tue general shrugged his shoulders with a con¬
temptuous smile.
"Nonsense," he said, "you are mad, my fine fel¬
low. I know now who you are ; your hatred of me
has unconsciously discovered you. Eemove that veil
which is no longer of any use ; I know you, for, as
you are aware, hatred is clear-sighted. Tou are the
Erench hunter whom I have constantly met in my
path to impede my projects, or overthrow my plans."
"Add," the huntey interrupted, "and whom you
will ever meet."
" Be it so, unless I crush you beneath my heel
like a noxious insect."
" Evér so proud and so indomitable, , do you not
fear lest, exasperated by your insults, I may forget
the oath I have taken, and sacrifice you to my ven¬
geance ?"
" Nonsense," he replied, with a disdainful toss of
his head, " you kill me ? that is impossible, for you
are too anxious to enjoy your revenge to stab me in
a moment of passion."
" That is true, this time you are right, Don Sebas¬
tian. I will not kill you, because, however culpable
you may be, I do not recognize the right to do so.
Blood does not wash out blood, it only increases-the
A DEOIABATIOK OP WAB.
81
stain ; and I intend to take a more protracted ven¬
geance on you than a stab or a shot will grant us.
Besides this, vengeance has already commenced."
" Indeed !" the general said sarcastically.
" Still," the hunter continued with some emotion,
" as the vengeance must be straightforward, I wish to
give you, in the presence of all these gentlemen, the
proof that X fear you no more to-day than I did
when the struggle commenced between us. This veil
which you reproach me for wearing I am going to
remove, not because you have recognized me, but
because I deem it unworthy of me to conceal my
features from you any longer. Brothers," he added,
turmng to his silent assistants, " my mask alone
must fall, retain yours, for it is important for my
plans of vengeance that you should remain unknown."
The four men bowed their assent, and the hunter
threw away the crape that covered his featmes.
" Valentine Guillois !" the general exclaimed ; " I
was srue of it."
On hearing this celebrated name, the hunters of
the second caravan made a movement as if to rush
forward, impelled either by curiosity or some other
motive.
"Stay," the Frenchman shouted, stopping them
by a quick wave of the hand, " let me finish with this
man first."
They fell back with a bow.
" Now," he continued, " we are really face to face.
Well, listen patiently to what still remains for me to
a
83
THE BED TBACH.
tell you; and, perhaps, the assumed calmness spread
over your features wiH melt away before my words,
like the snow in the sunshine."
" I wiU listen to you, because it is impossible for
me to do otherwise at this moment ; but if you flatter
yourself that you will aflect me in any way, I am
bound to warn you that you will not succeed. The
hatred I feel for you is so thoroughly balanced by the
contempt you inspire me with, that nothing which
emanates from you can move me in the slightest
degree." I
"Listen then," the hunter coldly continued;
"when my unhappy friend fell at Guaymas, in my
paroxysm of grief I allow that I intended to kill you;
but reflection soon came, and I saw that it would be
better to let you live. Thanks to me, one week after
the count's death, the Mexican Government, not
satisfied with disavowing your conduct publicly,
deprived you of your command, without inquiry, and
refused, in spite of your remonstrances, to explain to
you the motives of their conduct." I
" Ah, ah," the general said, in a hissing but sup¬
pressed voice, " it was to you, then, Hhat I owe my
recall ?" '
" Tes, general, to me alone." \
" I am delighted to hear it."
" Ton remained, then, in Sonora, without power
or influence, hated and despised by all, and marked on
your forehead with that indelible brand which Gon
imprinted on Cain, the first murderer ; but Mexico is
A DECIAEATION OF WAB,
83
a blessed country, where ambitious men can easily
fish in troubled waters, when, like yourself, they are ,
not restrained by any of those bonds of honour^ which
too often fetter the genius of honest men. Tou
could not remain long bowed beneath the blow that
had fallen on you, and you made up your mind in a
few days. Tou resolved to leave Sonora and proceed
to Mexico, where, thanks to your colossal: fortune,
and the influence it would necessarily give you, you
could carry on your ambitious projects ; by changing
the scene, you hoped to cast the scandalous acts of
which you had been guilty into oblivion. Tour pre¬
parations were soon made—listen attentively, general,
to this, for I assure you that I have reached the most
interesting part of my narration."
" Go on, go on, señor," he replied carelessly, "I
am listening to you attentively ; do not fear that I
shall forget one of your words."
"In spite of your affected indifference, señor, I
will go on. As you fancied, for certain reasons which
it is unnecessary to remind you of, that your enemies
might try to lay some ambush for you, during the
long journey you were obliged to perform from
Hermosillo to Mexico, you thought it necessary to
take the following precautions, the inutility of some
of which I presume that you have recognized by this
time. While, for the purpose of deceiving your ene¬
mies, you started in disguise, and oidy accompanied
by a few men, for California, in order to return to
Mexico across the Rocky Mountains ; while you gave
84 THE HEB TEACH.
questioners the fullest details of the road, you pre¬
tended to follow, with your men—your real object
was quite different. The man in whom you placed
your confidence, Don Isidro Vargas, a veteran of your
War of Independence, who had known you when a
child, and whom you had converted into your tool, took
the shortest, and, consequently, most direct route for
the capital, having with him not only twelve mules
loaded with gold and silver, the fruit of your plunder
during the period of your command, but a more pre¬
cious article still, the body of your unhappy daughter,
which you had embalmed, and which the captain had
orders to inter with your ancestors at youi Hacienda
del Palmar, which you left so long ago, and to which
you will, in all probability, never return. Tour object
in acting thus was not only to divert attention from
your ill-gotten riches, but also to attract your ene¬
mies after yourself. Unfortunately or fortunately,
acf Ording as we regard the matter, I am an old hunter
so difficult to deceive that my comrades gave me long
ago the glorious title of the Trail-hunter, and hence,
whue everybody else was forming speculations about
you, I alone was not deceived, and guessed your
plan."
" Still, your presence here gives a striking denial
to the assertion," the general interrupted him, ironi¬
cally.
" Tou think so, señor, and that proves that you
aro not thoroughly acquainted with me yet; but
patience, I hope that you will, ere long, appre-
A DECIAEATION OE WAE.
85
ciate me better. Moreover, you bavo not reflected on
the time that has elapsed since your departure from
Hermosillo."
" "What do you mean ?" the general asked, with a
sudden start of apprehension.
" I mean that before attacking you, I resolved to
settle matters first with the captain."
" Ah !"
" Well, general, it is my painful duty to inform
you that four days after he left Pitic, our brave
friend Don Isidro, although an old and experienced
soldier, well versed in war stratagems, fell into an am¬
buscade resembling the one into which you fell to¬
day, with this exception ."
"What exception?" the general asked, with greater ,
-interest than he would have liked to display, for he
was beginning to fear a catastrophe.
" My men were so imprudent," the hunter con¬
tinued, ironically, " as to leave the captain the means
of defending himself. The result was that he died,
bravely fighting to save the gold you had intrusted
to him, and, before all, the coflSn containing your
daughter's corpse."
" Well, and I presume you plundered the caravan,
and carried off the gold and silver ?" he asked, con¬
temptuously.
" Tou woiJd most probably have acted thus under
similar circumstances, Don Sebastian," the hunter
answered, giving him back insult for insult ; " but I
thought it my duty to act differently. What could
86
THE BED TKACK.
you expect ? I, a coarse, uneducated hunter, do not
know how to plunder, for I did not learn it when I
had the honour to serve my own country, and I never
stood under your orders in Mexico. This is what I
did : so soon as the captain and the peons he com¬
manded were killed—for the poor devUs, I must do
them the justice of saying, offered a desperate re¬
sistance—myself, you understand, friend, I my¬
self conveyed the money to your Hacienda del Pal¬
mar, where it now remains in safety, as you can easily
assure yourself if you ever return to Palmar."
The general breathed again, and smiled ironically.
" Instead of blaming you, señor," he said, " I, on the
contrary, owe you thanks for this chivalrous conduct,
especially toward an enemy."
"Do not he in such an hurry to thank me, ca¬
ballero," the hunter answered ; "I have not told you
all yet."
These words were uttered with such an accent
of gratified hatred, that all the hearers, the general
included, shuddered involuntarily, for they under¬
stood that the hunter was about to make a terrible
revelation, and that the calmness he feigned con¬
cealed a tempest.
" Ah," Don Sebastian murmured, " speak, I im¬
plore you, señor, for I am anxious to know all the
obligations I owe you."
" Captain Don Isidro Vargas not only escorted the
money I had conveyed to Palmar," he said in a sharp,
quick voice, "but there was also a coffin. "Well,
A DEClAEATIOîT OF WAE.
87
general, why do you not ask me what has become of
that coflin ?"
An electric shock ran through the audience on
hearing the ironical question so coldly asked by the
hunter, whose eye, implacably fixed on the general,
seemed to flash fire.
" What !" Don Sebastian exclaimed, " I can hardly
think that you have committed sacrilege ?"
Valentine burst into a loud and sharp laugh. "Tour
suppositions ever go beyond the object. I commit
sacrilege, oh, no ! I loved the poor girl too dearly
when alive to outrage her after death. No, no, the
betrothed of my friend is sacred to me ; but as, in
my opinion, the assassin can have no claim to
the body of his victim, and you are morally your
daughter's murderer, I have robbed you of this body,
which you are not worthy to have, and which must
rest by the side of him for whom she died."
There was a moment's süence. The general's
face, hitherto pale, assumed a greenish hue, and his
eyes were suffused with blood. Now and then he
made superhuman efforts to speak, which were un¬
successful, but at length he yelled in a hoarse and ,
hissing voice— '
" It is not true ; you have not done this. Tou ,
cannot have dared to rob a father of his child's body."
"I have done it, I tell you," the hunter said
coldly. " I have taken possession of the body of your
victim, and now you understand me ; never shall you
know where this poor body rests. But this is only
88
THE BED TBACK.
the beginning of my vengeance. What I wish to kill
in you is the soul and not the body ; and now begone,
go and forget at Mexico, amid your ambitious in¬
trigues, the scene that has passed between us ; but
remember that you will find me in your path every¬
where and ever. Tarewell till we meet again."
" One last word," the general exclaimed, affected
by the deepest despair, " restore me my daughter's
body ; she was the only human creature I ever loved."
The hunter regarded him for a moment with an
undefinable expression, and then said in a harsh and
coldly-mocking voice, " IsTever."
Then, turning away, he re-entered the grotto, fol¬
lowed by his assistants. The general tried to rush
after him, but the Indians restrained him, and, in spite
of his resistance, compelled him to stop.
Don Sebastian, who was the more overwhelmed by
the last blow because it was unexpected, stood for a
moment like a man struck by lightning, with pendant
arms and seared eyes. At last a heartrending sob
burst from his bosom, two burning tears sprung from
his eyes, and he rolled like a corpse on the ground.
The very Indians, those rough warriors to whom
pity is a thing unknown, felt moved by this frightful
despair, and several of them turned away not to wit¬
ness it.
In the meanwhile the Jester had ordered the peons
to saddle the horses and load the mules. The general
was placed by two servants on a horse, without
appearing to notice what was done to him, and a few
A DECLABATIOK OF WAB.
89
minutes later the caravan left the Fort of the Chichi-
meques, and passed unimpeded through the silent
ranks of the Indians, who bowed as it passed.
When the Mexicans had disappeared in the
windings of the road, Valentine emerged from the
grotto, and walked courteously up to the hunters of
the second caravan.
" Forgive me," he said to them, " not the delay I
have occasioned you, but the involuntary alarm I
caused you ; but I was compelled to act as I did.
Ton are going to Mexico, where I shall soon be my¬
self, and it is ppssible that I may require your testi¬
mony some day."
" A testimony which will not be refused, my dear
countryman," the hunter who had hitherto spoken
gracefully answered.
" What !" the hunter exclaimed in amazement,
" are you French ?"
" Tes, and all my companions are so, too. We
have come from San Francisco, where, thanks to Pro¬
vidence, we have amassed a very considerable fortune,
which we hope to double in the Mexican capital.
My name is Antoine llallier, and these are my brothers,
Edward and Augustus ; the two 'ladies who accom¬
pany us are my mother and sister, and if you know
nobody in Mexico, come straight to me, sir, and
you will be received, not only as a friend, but as a
brother."
The hunter pressed the hand his countryman
offered him.
90
the bed teack.
" As this is the case," he said, " I will not let you
go alone, for these mountains are infested by bandits
of every description, whom you may not escape, but
with my protection you can pass anywhere."
" I heartily accept the offer ; but why do you not
come with us to Mexico ?"
" That is impossible for the present," the hunter
answered pensively ; " but be at yoiu" ease. I shall
not fail to demand the fulfilment of your promise."
"You will be welcome, friend, for we have
been acquainted for a long time, and we know
that you have ever honourably represented Prance
in America."
Two hours later the Port of the Chichimèques
had returned to its usual solitude ; white men and
Indians had abandoned it for ever.
CHAPTER IX.
mexico.
"We will now leap over about two months and,
leaving the Rocky Mountains, invite the reader to
accompany us to the heart of Mexico.
The Spanish Conquistadors selected with admir¬
able tact the sites on which they founded the cities
destined to insure their power, and become at a later
date the centres of their immense trade, and the en¬
trepôts of their incalculable wealth.
MEXICO. Ol
Even at the present day, although owing to tho
negligence of the creóles and their contianal fratricidal
wars, combined with the sudden earthquakes, these
cities are half mined, and the life which the power¬
ful Spanish organization caused to circulate in them
has died out, these cities are still a subject of sur¬
prise to the traveller accustomed to the morbid crowd¬
ing of old European cities. He regards with awe
these vast squares, surrounded by cloister-like arcades;
these broad and regular streets through which re¬
freshing waters continually flow ; these shady gardens
in which thousands of gaily-plumaged birds twitter;
these bold bridges ; these majestically simple build¬
ings, whose interiors contain incalculable wealth. And
yet, we repeat, the majority of these cities are only
the shadow of themselves. They seem dead, and are
only aroused by the furious yells of an insmTection,
to lead for a few days a feverish existence under the
excitement of political passions. But so soon as the
corpses are removed, and water has washed away the
blood stains, the streets revert to their solitude, tho
inhabitants hide themselves in their carefiilly-closed
houses, and aU becomes again gloomy, mournful, and
silent, only to be galvanized afresh by the hoarse mur¬
murs of an approaching revolt.
If we except Lima, the splendid " Ciudad de los
Reyes," Mexico is probably the largest and hand¬
somest of all the cities that cover the soil of ancient
Spanish America.
From whatever point we regard it, Mexico affords
92
THE BED TBACK.
a magnificent view ; but if you wish to enjoy a really
fairy-like sight, ascend at sunset one of the towers of
the eathedral, whence you will see the strangest and
most picturesque panorama imaginable unrolled at
your feet.
Mexico certainly existed before the discovery of
America, and our readers will probably pardon a
digression showing how the foundation of the city is
narrated by old chroniclers.
In the year of the death of Huetzin, King of Tez-
cuco, that is to say, the " spot where people stop,"
because it was at this very place that the migra¬
tion of the Chichimèques terminated, the Mexicans
made an eruption into the country, and reached the
place where Mexico now stands, at the beginning of
the year 1140 of our era. This place then formed
part of the dominions of Aculhua, Lord of Atzcaput-
zalco.
According to paintings and the old chronicles,
these Indians came from the empires of the province
of Xalisco. It appears that they were of the same
race as the Toltecs, and of the family of the noble
Huetzin, who with his children and servants escaped
during the destruction of the Toltecs, and was resid¬
ing at that period at Chapultepec, which was also
destroyed at a later date.
It is recorded that he traversed with them the
country of Michoacan, and took refuge in the province
of Atzlan, where he died, and had for his successors'
Ozolopan, his son, and Aztlal, his grandson, whose
MEXICO.
93
heir was Ozolopan IL The latter, remembermg the
country of his ancestors, resolved to return thither
with his entire nation, which was already called
Mezetin. After many adventures and combats, they
at length reached the banks of a great lake covered
with an infinitude of islands, and as the recollection
of their country had been traditionally kept up among
them, they at once recognized it, though not one of
them had even seen it before. Too weak to resist the
people that surrounded them, or to establish them¬
selves in the open country, they founded on several of
the islands, which they connected together, a town,
which they called after themselves, Mexico, and
which at a later date was destined to be the capital of
a powerfial empire.
Although the Mexicans arrived on the banks of
the lake in 1140, it was not till two years later that
the American Venice began to emerge from the
bosom of the waters.
We have dwelt on these details in order to correct
an error made by a modem author, who attributes
to the Aztecs the foundation of this city, to which he
gives the name of Tenoehtitlan, instead of Temixtetlan,
which is the correct name.*
* In order to protect themselves from the misfortunes which
had before crushed them, the Mexicans placed themselves
under the safeguard of the King of Azcaputzalco, on whose
lauds they had established themselves. This prince gave them
two of his sons as governors, of whom the first was Acamapuhtli,
chief of the Teiiuchcas. On their arrival in Ahanuec, these
Sá
SHE BED TBACB.
Like Venice, its European sister, Mexico was only
a collection of cabins, offering a precarious skelter to
wctcked fishermen, who were incessantly kept in a
state of alarm by the attacks of their neighbours.
The Mexicans, at first scattered over a great number
of small islands, felt the necessity of collecting
together in order to offer a better resistance. By
their patience and courage they succeeded in building
houses, raised on piles, and employing the mud of the
lagoons, held together by branches of trees, they
created the chinattvpas, or floating gardens, the most
curious in the world, on which they sowed vegetables,
pimento, and maize, and thus, with the aquatic birds
they managed to catch cn the lake, they contrived to
be entirely independent of their neighbours.
Almost destroyed during the obstinate fights
between the natives and the Spaniards, Mexico, four
years after the conquest, was entirely rebuilt by
Fernando Cortez. But the new city in no way re¬
sembled the old one. Most of the canals were filled
up, and paved over ; magnificent palaces and sump¬
tuous monasteries rose as if ^by enchantment, and
the city became entirely Spanish.
Indians had found on the suniiuit of a rock a nopal, in which
was an eagle devouring a serpent, and they took their name
&om it. Acamapuhtli selected this emblem as the totem of the
race he was called upon to govern. During the War of Inde¬
pendence, the insurgents adopted this hieroglyphic as the arms
of the Mexican Bepublic, in memory of the ancient and glorioQI
Origin of which it reminded them.
MEXICO.
95
Mexico tas been so frequently described by moi-e
practised pens tban ours, and we, in previous works,
have had such frequent occasions to allude to it, that
we will not attempt any deseription here, but con¬
tinue our story without further delay.
It was October 12th, 1854, two months, day for
day, had elapsed since the unfortunate Count de
Prébois Orancé, victim of an iniquitous sentence, had
honourably fallen at Guaymas beneath the Mexican
buUets.* A thick fog had hung over the city for the
whole day, changing at times into a fine drizzle,
which after sunset became sharper, although a heavy
fog stiU prevailed. However, at about eight in the
evening the rain ceased to fall, and the stagnant
waters of the lake began to reflect a few particles of
brighter sky. The snow-clad summit of Iztaczihuatl,
or the White Woman, feebly glistened in the pale
watery moonbeams, while Popocatepetl remained
buried in the clouds.*
The streets and squares were deserted, although
the night was not yet far advanced ; for the loungers
and promenaders, driven away by the weather, had
returned to their homes. A deep silence brooded
over the city, whose lights expired one after the
other, and only at lengthened intervals could be
heard on the greasy pavement the footsteps of the
serenos, or watchmen, who performed their melan-
• See the Indian Chief." Same pnblishere.
t This second volcano, whose name indicates The Smohhig
Mountain," is near the former.
96
THE BED TRACK.
choly walk, with the indifferent air peculiar to that
estimable corporation. At times a ,few discordant
sounds, escaping from the velorios were home along on
the breeze ; but that was all—the city seemed asleep.
Half-past nine was striking by the cathedral
clock at the moment when a dull sound resembling
the rustling of reeds shaken by the wind was audible
on the gigantic highway joining the city to the main
land. This sound soon became more distinct, and
changed into the trampling of horses, which was
deadened by the damp air and the ground softened
by a lengthened rain, A black mass emerged from
the fog, and two horsemen •wrapped in thick cloaks
stood out distinctly in the moonlight.
These horsemen seemed to have made a long
journey ; their steeds, covered with mud, limped at
each step, and only advanced with eictreme difficulty.
They at length reached a low house, through whose
dirty panes a doubtful hght issued, which showed
that the inhabitants were still awake.
The horsemen stopped before this house, which
was an inn, and without dismounting, one of them
gave the door two or three kicks, and called the
host in a loud sharp voice. The latter, doubtless
disturbed by this unusual summons at so improper
an hour, was in no hurry to answer, and would
have probably left the strangers for some time in the
cold, if the man who had kicked, probably tired of
waiting, had not thought of an expeditious means of
obtaining an answer
MEXICO.
97
" Voto à Bríos !" lie shouted, as he drew a pistol
from his holster, and cocked it, "since this dog is
resolved not to open, I wül send a huUet through his
window."
This menace had been scarce uttered ere the door
opened as if by enchantment, and the landlord ap¬
peared on the threshold. This man resembled land¬
lords in all countries ; he had, like them, a sleek and
crafty look, but at this moment his obsequiousness
badly concealed a profound terror, evidenced by the
earthy pallor of his face.
"Hola, caballero," he said, with a respectful bow,
" have a little patience, if yoii please. Caramba ! how
quick you are ; it is plain to see that you are foras¬
teros, and not acquainted with the custom of our
coimtry."
"Ho matter who I am," the stranger answered
sharply ; " are you a landlord—yes on no ?"
"I have that honour, caballero," the host remarked,
with a deeper bow than the first.
"If you are so, scoundrel," the stranger ex¬
claimed angrily, " by what right do you, whose duty
it is to be at the orders of the public, dare to keep
me waiting thus at your door ?"
The landlord had a strong inclination to get into
a passion, but the resolute tone of the man who
addressed him, and, above all, the pistol he still
held in his hand, urged him to prudence and modera¬
tion ; hence he answered with profound humility—
" Believe me, señor, that if I had known what a
H
98
THE BED TBACK.
distinguished caballero did me the honour of stop¬
ping before my humble dwelling, I should have has¬
tened to open."
" A truce to such impertinent remarks, and open
the door."
The landlord bowed without replying this time,
and whistled a lad, who came to help him in holding
the travellers' horses ; the latter dismounted, and en¬
tered the inn, while their tired steeds were led to the
corral by the boy.
The room into which the travellers were intro¬
duced was low, black, and fiimished with tables and
benches in a filthy state, and mostly broken, while
the floor of stamped earth was greasy and uneven.
Above the bar was a statuette of the Virgin de la
Soledad, before which burned a greasy candle. In
short, this inn had nothing attractive or comfortable
about it, and seemed, to be a velorio of the lowest
class, apparently used by the most wretched and
least honourable ranks of Mexican society.
A glance was sufficient for the travellers to un¬
derstand the place to which accident had led them,
still they did not display any of the disgnst which
the sight of this cut-throat den inspired them with.
They seated themselves as comfortably as they could
at a table, and the one who had hitherto addressed
mine host went on, while his süent companion leaned
against the wall, and drew the folds of his cloak still
higher up his face.
" Look here," he said, " we are literally dying of
MEXICO.
Libiggri
hunger, patron ; could you not serve us up a morsel
of something ? I don't care what it is in the shape
of food."
" Hum !" said the host with an embarrassed air,
" it is very late, caballero, and I don't believe I have
even a maize tortilla left in the whole house."
" Honsense," the traveller replied, " I know all
about it, so let us deal frankly with each other ; give
me some supper, for I am hungry, and we wül not
BC[uabble about the price."
" Even if you paid me a piastre for every tortilla,
excellency, I really could not supply you with two,"
the landlord replied, with increased constraint.
The traveller looked at him fixedly for a moment
or two, and then laid his hand firmly on his arm, and
pulled him toward the table.
" Now, look here. No Lusacho," he said to him
curtly, " I intend to pass two hours in your hovel, at
all risks ; I know that between this and eleven o'clock
you expect a large party, and that all is prepared to
receive them."
The landlord attempted to give a denial, but the
traveller cut him short.
" Silence," he continued, I wish to be present at
the meeting of these persons ; of course I do not mean
them to see me ; but I must not only see them, but
hear all they say. Put me where you please, that is
your concern ; but as any trouble deserves payment,
here are ten ounces for you, and I will give you as
many more when vour visitors have gone, and I assure
100
THE UED TRACK.
you that what I ask of you will not in any way com-
promise you, and that no one will ever know the
bargain made between us—you understand me, I
suppose ? Now, I will add, that if you obstinately
refuse the arrangement I offer "
"Well, suppose I do?"
" I will blow out your brains," the traveller said
distinctly ; " my friend here will put you on his
shoulder, throw you into the water, and all will be
over. What do you think of my proposal ?"
" Hang it, excellency," the poor fellow answered,
with a grimaoe which attempted to resemble a smile,
and trembling in all his hmbs, " I think that I have
no choice, and am compelled to accept."
" Good ! now you are learning reason ; but take
these ounces as a consolation."
The landlord pocketed the money, as he raised his
eyes to heaven and gave a deep sigh.
" Fear nothing, viva Dios !" the traveller con¬
tinued; "all will pass off better than you sup¬
pose. At what hour do you expect your visi¬
tors?"
" At half-past ten, excellency."
" Good ! it is half-past nine, we have time before!
us. Where do you propose to hide us ? "
" In this room, excellency."
" Here, diablo ; whereabouts ? "
" Behind the bar ; no one will dream of looking-
for you there, and, besides, I shall serve as a rampart,
to you."
MiXICO.
101
" Then you will be present at the meeting ?"
" Oh !" he said with a smile, " I am nobody ; the
more so, that if I spoke, my house would be ruined."
" That is true. Well, then, all is settled ; when
the hour arrives, you wiU place us behind the bar ; but
can my companion and I sit there with any degree of
comfort?"
" Oh, you will have plenty of room."
" I fancy this is not the first time such a thing has
occurred, eh ?"
The landlord smiled, but made no answer: the
traveller reflected for a moment.
" Give us something to eat," he at length said ;
" here are two piastres in addition for what you are
going to place before us."
The landlord took the money, and forgetting that
he had declared a few moments previously that he had
nothing in the house, he instantly covered the table
with provisions, which, if not particularly delicate,
were, however, sufficiently appetizing, especially for
men whose appetite appeared to be powerfully excited.
The two travellers vigorously attacked this im¬
provised supper, and for about twenty minutes no
other sound was heard but that of their jaws. When
their hunger was at length appeased, the traveller
who seemed to speak for both, thrust away his plate,
and addressed the landlord, who was modestly stand¬
ing behind him hat in hand.
" And now for another matter," he said ; " how
many lads have you to help you ? "
102
THE BED TEACK.
" Two, excellency—the one who took your horses
to the corral, and another."
"Very good. I presume you will not require
both those lads to wait on your friends to-night?"
" Certainly not, excellency ; indeed, for greater
security, I shall wait on them alone."
" Better still ; then, you see no inconvenience in
sending one of them into the Ciudad ; of course on
the understandiug that he is well paid for the
trip?"
" No inconvenience at all, excellency ; what is the
business ?"
" Simply," he said, taking a letter from his bosom,
"to convey this letter to Señor Don Antonio BaUier,
in the Calle Secunda MonteriUa, and bring me back
the answer in the shortest possible period to this
house."
" That is easy, excellency ; if you will have the
kindness to intrust the letter to me."
" Here it is, and four piastres for the journey."
The host bowed respectfully, and immediately left
the room.
" I fancy, CuruTuilla," the traveller then said to his
companion, " that our affairs are going on well.^
The other replied by a silent nod of assent^Vind
within a moment the landlord returned.
" Well ?" the traveller asked.
" Tour messenger has set off, excellency, but ho
will probably bo some time ere he returns."
"Why BO?"
MEXICO.
103
" Because people ^re not allowed to ride about
the city at night without a special authority, and ho
will be obliged to go and return on foot."
" No consequence, so long as he returns before
sunrise."
" Oh, long before then, excellency."
" In that case all is for the best ; but I think the
moment is at hand when your friends will arrive."
"It is, excellency, so have.the kindness to fol¬
low me."
" All right."
The travellers rose ; in a twinkling the landlord,
removed all signs of supper, and then hid his guests
behind the bar. This bar, which was very tall and
deep, offered them a perfectly secure, if not con¬
venient, hiding place, in which they crouched down
with a pistol in each hand, in order to be ready for
any event. They had scarce installed themselves ere
several knocks, dealt in a peculiar fashion, were heard
on the outer door.
CHAPTEE X.
the eancho.
In one of our previous works we proved by documen¬
tary evidence that, since the declaration of its inde¬
pendence, that is to say, in about forty years, Mexico
has reached its two hundred and thirtieth revolution
THE BED TBACE.
whicb gives an average of about five revolutions a
year. In our opinion, this is very decent for a
country which, if it pleased, regard being had to the
retrograde measures adopted by the government, would
have been justified in having at least one a month.
The causes of these revolutions are and must be
ever the same in a country where the sabre rules
without control, and which counts twenty-four thou¬
sand officers for an firmy of twenty thousand men.
These officers, very ignorant generally, and very am¬
bitious individually,incapable of executing the slightest
manœuvre, or commanding the most simple movement,
find in the general disorder chances of promotion
which they would not otherwise have, and many
Mexican generals have attained their elevated rank
' without having once been present at a battle, or even
seen any other fire than that of the cigarettes they
constantly have in their mouths. The real truth is,
they have skilfully pronounced themselves ; each
pronunciamiento has gained them a step, sometimes
two, and with pronunciamiento after pronunciamiento,
they have acquired the general's scarf, that is to say,
the probability, with the aid of luck, of being in their
turn proclaimed President of the Eepublic, which is
the dream of all of them, and the constant object of
their efforts.
We have said that the travellers had scarce time to
conceal themselves in the bar, ere several knocks on
the door warned the. landlord that the mysterious
guests he expected were beginning to arrive.
THE EANCnO.
105
No Lusacho was a fat little man, with constantly
rolling gray eyes, a cunning look, and a prominent
stomach—^the true type of the Mexican Eancbero,
who is more eager for gain than two Jews, and very
ready when circumstances demand it, that is to say,
when his own interests are concerned, to make a bar¬
gain with his conscience. He assured himself by a
glance that all was in order in the room, and that
there was nothing to cause the presence of strangers
to be suspected, and then walked to the door ; but,
before opening, with the probable intention of dis¬
playing his zeal, he thought it advisable to challenge
the arrivals.
" Quien vive ?" he asked.
" Gente de paz 1" a rough voice answered ; " open in
the Eiend's name, if you do not wish us to break in
your door."
No Lusacho doubtless recognized the voice, for the
somewhat brusque response appeared to him sufficient,
and he immediately prepared to draw back the bolts.
The door was hardly ajar ere several men burst
into the inn, thrusting each other aside in their
haste, as if afraid of being followed. These men were
seven or eight in number ; and it was easy to see they
were officers, in spite of the precaution of some among
them who had put on civilian attire.
They laughed and jested loudly, which proved that,
if they were conspirators, or, at least, if they were
brought to this ill-famed den by any illicit object, that
object, whatever it might be, did not spoü their gaiety
106
THE HEU TBACE.
or appear to them of sufficient importance to render
them unwontedly serious.
They seated themselves at a table, and the land»
lord, who had doubtless long been acquainted with
their habits, placed before them a bottle of Catalonian
refino and a jug of pulque, which they straightway
began swallowing while rolling their cigarettes.
The door of the rancho had been left ajar by the
landlord, who probably thonght it unnecessary to
close it ; the officers sueceeded each other with great
rapidity, and their number soon became so great, that
the room, though very spacious, was completely filled.
The new comers followed the example of those who had
preceded them ; they seated themselves at a table, and
began drinking and smoking, not appearing to trouble
themselves about the earlier comers, to whom they
merely bowed as they entered.
As for No Lusacho, he continually prowled round
the tables, watching everything with a comer of his
eyes, and being careful not to serve the slightest article
without receiving immediate payment. At length one
of the officers rose, and, after rapping his glass on the
table several times to attract attention, he asked—
" Is Don Sirven here ?"
" Tes, señor," a young man of twenty at the most
answered as he rose. His eflTeminate features were
already worn by precocious debauchery.
" Assure yourself that no person is absent."
The young man bowed, and began walking from
one table to the other, exchanging two or three words
THE EANCHO.
107
in a low voice with each of the visitors. When Don
Sirven had gone round the room, he went to the per¬
son who had addressed him, and said with a respectful
bow—
" Señor coronel, the meeting is complete, and only
one person is absent ; but as he did not tell us certainly
whether he would do us the honour of being present
to-night, I "
"That will do, alferez," the colonel interrupted
him ; " remain outside the house, carefully watch the
environs, and let no one approach without challenging
him, but if you know who arrives, introduce him im¬
mediately. You have heard me, so execute my orders
punctually ; you understand the importance of passive
obedience for yourself."
" You can trust to me, coronel," the young man
answered; and, after bowing to his superior officer,
he left the room aud closed the door behind him.
The officers, then, without getting up, turned round
on the benches, and thus found themselves face to
face with the colonel, who had stationed himself in
the middle of the room. The latter waited a few
minutes till perfect silence was established, and then,
after bowing to the audience, hfe spoke as follows :—
" Let me, in the first place, thank you, caballeros,
for the punctuality with which you have responded to
the meeting I had the honour of arranging with you.
I am delighted at the confidence it has pleased you to
display in me, and, believe me, I shall show myself
Worthy of it; for it proves to me once again that you are
108
THE BED TBACK.
really devoted to the interests of our country, and that
it may freely reckon on you in the hour of danger."
This first portion of the colonel's speech was
drowned in applause, as was only fitting. This colonel
was a man of about forty years of age, of herculean
stature, and looking more like a butcher than an
honest soldier. His cunning looks did not at all in¬
spire confidence, and every step in his profession had
been the reward of an act of treachery. He was a
most valuable man in a conspiracy on this account,
for being so old a hand at pronunciamientos,
people knew that he was too clever to join a losing
cause; hence, he inspired his accomplices with un¬
limited confidence. ' After allowing time for the
enthusiasm to calm, he continued—
" I am pleased, señores, not at this applause, but at
the devotion you so constantly display for the public
welfare. You understand as weU as I do that we
can no longer bow our necks beneath the despotic
government that tyrannizes over us. The man who
at this moment holds our destinies in his hands has
shown himself unworthy of the mandate we confided
to him ; by failing in his duties towards us, he has libe¬
rated us from the oath of obedience we took to him.
Human patience has its limits, and the hour will soon
strike for the man who has deceived us to be over¬
thrown." I
The colonel had made a start, and would probably
have continued his plausible speech for a long time
in an emphatic voice, had not one of his audience.
THE EANCHO.
109
evidently wearied of finding nothing positive or clear
in this fiood of sounding words, suddenly interrupted
him—
" That is all very fine, colonel," he said, " ILayo de
Dios ! we are all aware that we are gentlemen devoted,
body and soul, to our country j but devotion must be
paid for, cuerpo de Cristo! What shall we get by all
this after all ? We have not assembled here to com¬
pliment each other ; but, on the contrary, to come to
a definite understanding. So pray come to the point
at once."
The colonel was at first slightly embarrassed by
this warm apostrophe ; but he recovered himself at
once, and turned with a smile to his interrupter—
" I was coming to it, my dear captain, at the very
moment when you cut across my speech."
" Oh, that is different," the captain answered ;
"pray suppose that I had not spoken, and explain
the affair in a couple of words."
" In the first place," the colonel went on, " I have
news for you which I feel assured you will heartily
welcome. This is the last time we shall meet."
"Very good," said the practical captain, en¬
couraged by the winks of his companions, " let us
hear first what the reward is."
The colonel saw that he could no longer dally with
the matter, for all his hearers openly took part with
their comrade, and murmurs of evil augury were begin¬
ning to be audible. At the moment when he resolved
to tell all he knew, the door of the inn was opened,
110
THE HEB TBi-OK.
and a man wrapped in a large cloak quickly entered
the room, preceded by the Alferez Don Sirven, who
shouted in a lond voice—
" The general. Caballeros, the general."
At this announcement silence was re-established
as if by enchantment. The person called the general
stopped in the middle of the room, looked around
him, and then took off his hat, let his cloak fall from
his shoulders, and appeared in the full-dress uniform
of a general officer. ^
" Long live General Guerrero !" the officers
shouted, as they rose enthusiastically.
" Thanks, gentlemen, thanks," the general re¬
sponded with numerous bows. " This warm feeling
fills me with delight; but pray be silent, that we
may properly settle the matter which has brought us
here; moments are precious, and, in spite oí the
precautions we have taken, our presence at this inn
may have been denounced."
All collected round the general with a movement
of interest easy to understand. The latter con¬
tinued—
" I wiU come at once to facts," he said, " without
entering into idle speculations, which would cause us
to waste valuable time. In a word, then, what is it
we want ? To overthrow the present government, and
establish another more in conformity with our opinions
and, above all, our interests."
" Yes, yes," the officers exclaimed.
" In that case we are conspiring against the esta»
THE BAHCHO.
Ill
blished authority, and are rebels in the eyes of the
law," the general continued coolly and distinctly;
" as such, we stake our heads, and must not attempt
any self-deception on this point. If our attempt fails,
we shall be pitilessly shot by the victor ; but we shall
not fail," he hastily added, on noticing the impression
these ill-omened words produced on his hearers ; " we
shall not failj because we are resolutely playing a
terrible game, and each of us knows that his fortune
depends on winning the game. Prom the alferez up
to the brigadier-general each knows that success will
gain him two steps of promotion, and such a stake is
sufficient to determine the least resolute to be staunch
when the moment arrives to begin the struggle."
" Tes, yes," the captain whose observations had,
previous to the general's arrival, sogreatly embarrassed
the colonel, said, " all that is very fine. Jumping up
two steps is a most agreeable thing; but we were
promised something else in your name, excellency."
The general smüed.
" Tou are right, captain," he remarked; "and I
intend to keep all promises made in my name—^but not,
as you might reasonably suppose, when Our glorious
enterprise has succeeded. If I waited till then, you
might fear lest I should seek pretexts and excuses to
evade their performance."
" When then, pray ?" the captain asked, curiously.
"At once, señores," the general exclaimed, in a
loud voice, and, addressing the whole company, " I
wish to prove to yoij that my confidence in you is
112
the hed track.
entire, and tbat I put faith in the word you pledged
to me."
Joy, astonishment, incredulity, perhaps, so pa-
' ralyzed his hearers, that they were unable to utter a
syllable. The general examined them for a moment,
and then, turning away with a mocking smile, he
walked to the front door, which he opened. The
officers eagerly watched his movements, with panting
chests, and the general, after looking out, coughed
twice.
" Here I am, excellency," a voice said, issuing
from the fog.
" Bring in the bags," Don Sebastian ordered, and
then quietly returned to the middle of the room.
Almost immediately after a man entered, bearing a
heavy leather saddle-bag. It was Carnero, the capa¬
taz. At a signal from his master, he deposited his
bundle and went out ; but returned shortly after with
another bag, which he placed by the side of the first
one. Then, after bowing to his master, he withdrew,
and the door closed upon him.
The general opened the bags, and a flood of gold
pomed in a trickling cascade on the table ; the officers
instinctively bent forward, and held out their quiver¬
ing hands.
" Now, señores," the general said, still perfectly
calm, as he carelessly rested his arm on the pile of
gold ; " permit me to remind you of our agreement ;
there are thirty-five of us at present, I believe ?"
"Tes, general, thirty-five," the captain replied.
THE BANCnO.
113
who seemed to have appointed himself speaker in
ordinary for self and partners.
"Very good; these thirty-five caballeros are thus
sub-divided:—ten alferez,whowiIleach receive twenty-
five ounces of silver. Señor Don Jaime Lupo," he
said, turning to the colonel, " will you be kind enough
to hand twenty-five ounces to each of these gentle¬
men ?"
The alferez, or sub-lieutenants, broke through the
ranks, and boldly came up to receive the oimces,
which the colonel delivered to each of them ; then
they fell back with a delight they did not attempt to
conceal.
" ifow," the general continued, " twelve captains,
to each of whom I wish you to offer, on my behalf,
Don Lupo, fifty ounces."
The captains pocketed the money with no more
ceremony than the alferez had displayed.
" "We have ten tenientes, each of whom is to receive
thirty-five ounces, I believe ?"
The tenientes, or lieutenants, who had began to
frown on seeing the captains paid before them, re¬
ceived their money with a bow.
" There now remain three colonels, each of whom
has a claim to one hundred ounces," the general said ;
" be kind enough to pay them, Any dear colonel."
The latter did not let the invitation be repeated
twice. Still the entire pile of gold was not exhausted,
and a considerable sum still remained on the table,
pen Sebastian Guerrero passed his hands several
I
llá
THE BED TEACK.
times tlirough the glittering metal, and at length
thrust it from him.
" Señores," he said, with an engaging smile, "ahout
five hundred ounces remain, which I do not tnow
what to do with ; may I ask you to divide them
among you, as suhsistence money while awaiting the
signal you are to receive from me."
At this truly regal act of munificence, the enthu¬
siasm attained its highest pitch; the cries and pro-
testations of devotion became frenzied. The general
alone remained impassive, and looked coldly at the
division made by the colonel;
When all the gold had disappeared, and the efier'
vesence was beginning to subside, Don Sebastian,
who, like the Angel of Evil, had looked with a pro¬
foundly mocking smile at these men so utterly under
the influence of cupidity, slightly tapped the table, to
request silence.
" Señores," he said, " I have kept all my pro¬
mises, and have acquired the right to count on you ;
we shall not meet again, but at a future day I wiU let
you know my intentions. Still be ready to act at the
first signal ; in ten days is the anniversary festival of
the Proclamation of Independence, and, if nothing de¬
ranges my plans, I shall probably choose that day to
try, with your assistance, to deliver the country from
the tyrants who oppress it. However, I wiU be careful
to have you warned. So now let us separate ; the
night is far advanced, and a longer stay at this spot
THE EANCHO.
115
might compromise the sacred interests for which we
have sworn to die."
He bowed to the conspirators, but, on reaching
the door, turned round again.
"Farewell, señores," he said, "be faithful to me."
""We will die for you, general," Colonel Lupo
answered, in the name of all.
The general gave a final bow and went out ; almost
immediately the hoofs of several horses could be
heard echoing on the paved street.
"As we have nothing more to do here, cabal¬
leros," the colonel said, " we had better separate with¬
out further delay ; but do not fprget the general's
parting recommendation."
" Oh, no," the captain said, gleefully' rattling the
gold, with which his pockets were filled. " Don Se¬
bastian Guerrero is too generous for us not to be faith¬
ful to him ; besides, he appears to me at the present
moment the only man capable of saving our unhappy
country from the abyss. We are all too deeply
attached to our country and too deyoted to its real in¬
terests, not to sacrifice ourselves for it, when cir¬
cumstances demand it."
The conspirators laughingly applauded this speech
of the captain's, and after exchanging courteous bows,
they withdrew as they had come ; that is to say, they
left the inn one after the other, not to attract atten¬
tion. They carefully wrapped themselves in their
cloaks, and went off in parties of three and four, with
116
the bed tback.
tbeir hands on their weapons, for fear of any unplea¬
sant encounter.
A quarter of an hour later, the room was empty,
and the landlord bolted the door for the night.
" Well, señores," he ashed the two strangers, who
now left the hiding-place in which they had been
crouching for upwards of two hours, "are you
satisfied ?"
"We could not be more so," replied the one who
had been the sole speaker hitherto.
" Yes, yes," the landlord continued, " three or four
more pronunciamientos, and I believe I shall be able
to retire on a decent competency."
"That is what I wish you, No Lusacho, and, to
begin, a thing promised is a thing done; here are
your ten ounces."
CHAPTEE XI.
the paseo db bucaeelli.*
Mexico is a country of extensive prospects and mag¬
nificent views ; and the poet Carpió is right when he
says enthusiastically, in the poem in which he sings
the praises of his country—
" Que inagnificos tienes horisontes !"
In truth, the prospect is the first aùd greatest
beauty of Mexico.
The plateau of Mexico is situated exactly in the
THE PASEO DE BUCABEELI.
117
centre of a circle of mountains. On all sides the -
landscape is bounded by admirable peaks, whose
snowy crests soar above the clouds, and in the golden
beams of the setting sun they offer the most sublime
pictures of the imposing and grand Alpine nature.
In the general description we attempted of Mexico
we omitted to allude to its promenades, of which we
intended previously to give a detailed account.
In Europe, and especially in France, promenades
are wanting in the interior of towns ; and it is only
during the last few years that Paris has possessed any
worthy of a capital. In Spain, on the contrary, the
smallest market-town has at least one alameda, where,
after the torrid heat of the day, the inhabitants
breathe the evening breeze, and rest from their
labours. Alameda, a soft and graceful word to pro¬
nounce, which we might be tempted to take _ for
Arabic, and to which some ill-informed scholars, un¬
acquainted with Spanish, attribute a Latin origin,
while it is simply Castillan, and literally signifies " a
place planted with poplars."
The Alameda of Mexico is one of the most beau¬
tiful in America. It is situated at one of the extre¬
mities of the city, and forms a long square, with a
wall of circumvallation bordered by a deep ditch,
whose muddy, fetid waters, owing to the negligence of
the government, exhale, pestilential miasmas. At
each comer of the promenade a gate offers admission
to carriages, riders, and pedestrians, who walk silently
beneath a thick awning of verdure, formed by willows,
118
THE BED TBACK.
elms, and poplars that border the principal road.
These trees are selected with great tact, and are al¬
ways green, for'although the leaves are renewed, it
takes place gradually and imperceptibly, so that the
branches are never entirely stripped of their foliage.
Numerous walks converge to open spots adorned
with gushing fountains, and clumps of jessamine,
myrtle, and rose-bushes, surrounded by stone benches
for the tired promenaders. Statues, unfortunately
far below mediocrity in their execution, stand at the
entrance of each walk; but, thanks to the deep
shadow, the whistling of the evening breeze in the
foliage, the buzz of the humming-birds flying from
flower to flower, and the harmonious strains of the
centzontles hidden in the fragrant clumps, you gra¬
dually forget those unlucky statues, and fall into a
gentle reverie, during which the mind is home to un¬
known regions, and seems no longer connected with
earth.
But Mexico is a thorough country of contrasts.
At each step barbarism elbows the most advanced
civilization. Hence all the carriages, after driving a
few times round the Alameda, take the direction of
the Paseo de Bucarelli, and the promenaders spread
over a walk, in the centre of which there is a large
window in the wall, protected by rusty iron bars,
and through which come pufls of poisoned air. It is the
window of the Head-house, into which are daily thrown
pellmell the bodies of men, women, and children, as¬
sassinated during the previous night, hideous, bloody,
THE PASEO DE BDOAEELLI. 119
S
and disfigured by death ! What a brilliant, what a
delicious idea, to have placed the Dead-house exactly
between the two city walks !
The Paseo, or promenade, of Bucarelli—so ctdled
after the Viceroy who gave it to Mexico—resembles
tie Champs Elysées of Paris. Hi,is, in reality,
merely a wide road, with no other ornament than a
doable row of willow and beech trees, with two cir¬
cular places, in the centre of which are fountains,
adorned with detestable allegorical statues and stone
benehes for pedestrians.
A.t the entrance of the Paseo de Bucarelli has
beer placed an equestrian statue of Charles IV.,
which in 1824 adorned the Plaza Mayor of Mexico.
When the Emperor Iturbide fell, this monument was
removed from the square and placed in the University
Palace-yard—a lesson, we may here remark, given by
a ccmpararively barbarous people to civilized nations,
who in revolutions, as a first trial of liberty, and for¬
getting that history records everything in her impe¬
rishable annals, carry their Vandalism so far as to
destroy everything that recals the government they
have overthrown. Owing to the intelhgent modera¬
tion of the Mexicans, the promenaders can still
admire, at the Bucarelli, this really remarkable statue,
due to the talent of the Spanish sculptor, Manuel
Tolsa, and cast in one piece by Salvador de la Vega.
The sight of this masterpiece ought to induce the
Mexican mimicipality to remove the pitiable statues
which disgrace the two finest promenades in the city.
120
the bed tback.
Prom the Paseo de Bucarelli a. magnihcent pros¬
pect is enjoyed of the panorama of mountains bathed
in the luminous vapours of night ; you perceivs.
through the arches of the gigantic acqueduct the
white fronrs of the haciendas clinging to the sides of
the Sierra, the fields of Indian com bending sofdy
before ^the breese, and the snowy peaks of the toi-
canoes, crowned with mist, and lost in the sky.
It is not till night has almost set in that the pro-
menaders, leaving the Alameda, proceed to the
Bucarelli, where the carriages take two or ihree
turns, and then equipages, riders, and pedestrians,
retire one after the other. The promenade i^ de¬
serted, the entire crowd, just now so gay and noisy,
has disappeared as if by enchantment, and you only
see betwéen the trees some belated promenader, who,
wrapped in his cloak, and with eye and ear on the
watch, is hastily returning home, for, after nightfall,
the thieves take possession of the promenade, and
without the slightest anxiety about the serenos and
celadores appointed to watch over the public security,
they carry on their trade with a boldness which the
certainty of impunity can alone engender.
It was evening, and, as usual, the Alameda was
crowded ; handsome carriages, brilliant riders, and
modest pedestrians were moving backwards and for¬
wards, with cries, laughter, and joyous calls, as they
sought or chased each other in the walks. Monks,
soldiers, ofiBcers, men of fashion, and leperos, were
miied together, carelessly smoking their cigars and
THE PASEO DE BUCAEELLI.
121
cigarettes under each other's noses, with the reckless¬
ness and negligence peculiar to southern nations.
Suddenly, the first stroke of the Oración broke
through the air. At the sound of the Angelus-hell,
as if the entire crowd had been struck by an en¬
chanter's wand, horses, carriages, and pedestrians
stopped, the seated citizens left the benches on which
they were resting, and a solemn silence fell on all ;
every person took off his hat, crossed himself, and for
four or five minutes this crowd, an instant before so
noisy, remained dumb and silent. Eut the last stroke
of the Oración had scarce died away, ere horses and
carriages set out again ; the shouts, the songs, and
talking, became louder than before ; each resumed
the sentence at the point where he had broken it off.
By degrees, however, the promenaders proceeded
toward the Bucarelli : the carriages became scarcer,
and by the time night had quite set in, the Alameda
was completely deserted.
A horseman, dressed in a rich Campesino costume,
and mounted on a magnificent horse, which he
managed with rare skill, then entered the Alameda,
along which he galloped for about twenty minutes,
examining the side walks, the clumps of trees, and
the densest bushes ; in a word, he seemed to be look¬
ing for somebody or something.
However, after a while, whether he had convinced
himself that his search would have no result, or for
some other motive, he gave the click of the tongue
peculiar to the Mexican ginetes, lifted his horse
122
THE BED TEACK.
which started at an amble, and proceeded toward the
Pasco de Bucarelli, after bowing sarcastically to some
ill-looking horsemen who were beginning to prowl
round him, but whom his vigorous appearance and
haughty demeanour had hitherto kept at arm's
length.
Although the darkness was too dense at this
moment for it to be possible to see the horseman's
face distinctly, which was in addition half covered by
the brim of his vicuna hat, all about him evidenced
strength and youth ; he was armed as if for a noc¬
turnal expedition, and had on his saddle, in spite of
police regulations, a thin, carefully rolled up reata.
We will say, parenthetically, that the reata is
considered in Mexico so dangerous a weapon, that it
requires special permission to carry one at the saddle¬
bow, in the streets of Mexico.
The salteadora, who occupy the streets aftei night¬
fall, and reign with undisputed sway over them,
employ no other weapon to stop the persons they
wish to plunder. They cast the running knot round
their necks, dash forward at full speed, and the un¬
lucky man, half strangled, and dragged from the
saddle, falls rmresistingly into their hands.
At the moment when the traveller we are following
reached the Bucarelli, the last carriages were leaving
it, and it was soon as deserted as the Alameda. He
galloped up and down the promenade twice or thrice,
looking carefully down the side rides, and at the end
of his third turn a horseman, coming from the Ala-
THE PASEO DE BÜCAEELLI. 123
meda, passed on his right hand, giving him in a low
voice the Mexican salute, " Santissima noche, cabal¬
lero !•"
Although this sentence had nothing peculiar about
it, the horseman started, and immediately turning his
horse round, he started in pursuit of the person who
had thus greeted him. Within a minute the two
horsemen were side by side ; the first comer, so soon
as he saw that he was followed, checked his horse's
pace, as if with the intention of entering into the
most direct communication with the person he had
addressed.
" A fine night for a ride, señor," the first horse¬
man said, politely raising his hand to his hat.
"It is," the second answered, "although it is
beginning to grow late."
" The moment is only the better chosen for certain
private conversation."
The second horseman looked around, and bending
over to the speaker, said—
" I almost despaired of meeting you."
" Did I not let you know that I should come ?"
"That is true; but I feared that some sudden
obstacle "
" Nothing ought to impede au honest man in accom¬
plishing a sacred duty," the first horseman answered,
with an emphasis on the words.
"The other bowed with an air of satisfaction.
Then," he said, " I can count on you. No ."
" No names here, señor," the other sharply inter-
THE BED TEACE.
rupted bim. " Caspita, an old wood-ranger like you,
a man who has long been a Tigrero, ought to remem¬
ber that the trees have ears and the leaves eyes."
" Tes, you are right. I should and do remember
it ; but permit me to remark that if it is not possible
for us to talk about business here, I do not know
exactly where we can do so."
" Patience, señor, I wish to serve you, as you
know, for you were recommended to me by a man to
whom I can refuse nothing. Let yourself, therefore,
be guided by me, if you wish us to succeed in this
affair, which, I confess to you at once, offers enormous
difficulties, and must be managed with the greatest
prudence."
" I ask nothing better j still you must tell me what
I ought to do."
" Por the present very little ; merely follow me at
a distance to the place where I purpose taking you."
" Are we going far P"
" Only a few paces ; behind the barracks of the
Accordades, in a small street called the Callejon del
Pajaro."
" Hum ! and what am I to do in this street ?"
" What a suspicious man you are !" the first horse¬
man said with a laugh. " Listen to me then. About
the middle of the Callejón I shall stop before a house
of rather poor appearance ; a man will come and hold
my horse while I enter. A few minutes later you will
pull up there ; after assuring yourself that you are
not followed you will dismount ; give your horse to
THE PASEO DB BUCAEELIT.
125
the man who is holding mine, and without saying a
word to him, or letting him see your face, yon will
enter the house, and shut the door after you. I shall
he in the yard, and will lead you to a place where
we shall be able to talk in safety. Does that suit
you?"
" Eamously ; although I do not understand why I,
who have set foot in Mexico to-day for the first time,
should find it necessary to employ such mighty pre¬
cautions."
The first horseman laughed sarcastically.
" Do you wish to succeed ?" he asked.
"Of course," the other exclaimed energetically,
" even if it cost me my life."
" In that case do as you are recommended."
" Go on, I follow you."
" Is that settled ? you understand aU about it ?"
" I do."
The second horseman then checked his steed to let
the first one go on ahead, and both keeping a short
distance apart, proceeded at a smart trot toward the
statue of Charles IV., which, as we said, stands at
the entrance of the Paseo.
While conversing, the two horsemen had forgotten
the advanced hour of the night, and the solitude that
surrounded them. At the moment when the first
rider passed the equestrian statue, a slip knot fell on
his shoulders, and he was roughly dragged from his
saddle.
" Help !" he shouted in a choking voice.
12G
THE BED TRACK.
The sëcond rider had seen all ; quick as thought
ho whirled his lasso round his head, and galloping at
full speed, hurled it after the Salteador at the moment
when he passed twenty yards from him.
The Salteador was stopped dead, and hurled from
his horse ; the worthy robber had not suspected that
another person beside himself could have a lasso so
handy. The horseman, without checking his speed,
cut the reata that was strangling his companion, and,
turning back, dragged the robber after him.
The first horseman so providentially saved, freed
himself from the slip knot that choked him, and,
hardly recovered from the alarm he had experienced
from his heavy fall, he whistled to his horse, which
came up at once, remounted as well as he could, and
rejoined his liberator, who had stopped a short dis¬
tance off.
" Thanks," he said to him, " henceforth we are
stanch friends ; you have saved my life, and I shall
remember it."
"Nonsense," the other answered, "I only did
what you would have done in my place."
" That is possible, but I shall be grateful to you
on the word of a Carnero," he exclaimed, forgetting in
his joy the hint he had given a short time previously,
not to make use of names, and revealing his own in¬
cognito ; " is the picaro dead ?"
"Yery nearly so, I fancy ; what shall we do with
him ?"
" Make a corpse of him," the capataz said bluntly.
a confidential conveesation. 127
"We are only two paces from the, dead-house, and he
can be carried there without difficulty. Though he is an
.utter scoundrel and tried to assassinate me, the police
are so well managed in our unhappy country that if
we committed the imprudence of letting him live, we
should have interminable disputes with the magis¬
trates."
Then, dismounting, he stooped over the bandit,
stretched senseless at his feet, removed his, lasso,
and coolly dashed out his brains with a blow of his
pistol butt. Immediately after this summary exe¬
cution, the two men left the Paseo de Bucarelli,
but this time side by side, through fear of a new
accident.
CHAPTER XII.
a confidential conveesation.
Directlt on emerging from the Paseo, the two men
separated, as had been agreed on between them j that
is to say, the capataz went ahead, followed at a re¬
spectful distance by Martial the Tigrero, whom the
reader has doubtless recognized.
All happened as the capataz had announced. The
streets were deserted, the horsemen only met a few
half-sleeping serenos leaning against the walls, and
were only crossed by a patrol of celadores walking
with a hurried step, and who seemed more inclined
128
THE BED TBACK.
to avoid them, than to try and discover the motives
that cansed them thus to ride about the streets of the
capital at night, in defiance of the law.
The Tigrero entered the Callejon del Pajaro, and
about the middle of the street saw the capataz's horse
hold by an ill-looking fellow, who gazed curiously at
him. Don Martial, following the instructions given
him, pulled his hat over his eyes to foil the mozo's
curiosity, stopped before the door, dismounted, threw
his bridle to the feUow, and, without saying a word
to him, resolutely entered the house and carefially
closed the door after him.
He then found himself in utter darkness, but
after groping his way, which was not difficult for
him to do, as all Mexican houses are built nearly on
the same model, he pushed forward. After crossing
the saguan, he entered a square yard on which several
doors looked; one of these doors was open, and a
man was standing on the threshold with a cigarette
in his mouth. It was Carnero.
The tiger-slayer went up to him ; the other made
room, and he walked on. The capataz took him by
the hand and whispered, " Come with me."
In spite of the protestations of devotion previously
made by the capataz, the Tigrero in his heart was
somewhat alarmed at the manner in which he was
introduced into this mysterious house ; but as he was
young, vigorous, well armed, brave, and resolved, if
necessary, to sell his life dearly, he yielded his hand
unhesitatiagly to Carnero, and allowed him to gpiide
A CONFIDENTIAL CONVE®SATION. 129
him whHe seeking to pierce the darkness that sur-
rounded him.
But all the windows were hermetically closed
with shutters, which allowed no gleam of light to
enter from without.
His guide led him through several rooms, the
floors of which were covered with matting that
deadened the sound of footsteps ; he took him np a
flight of stairs, and opening a door with a key he
took from his pocket, conducted him into a room
faintly lighted by a lamp placed befox'e a statue of the
Virgin, standing in one corner of the room, on a
species of pedestal attached to the wall, and covered
with extremely delicate lace.
"Now," said Carnero,after closing the door, from
-which the Tigrero noticed that he removed the key,
" draw up a butacca, sit down and let us talk, for we
are in safety." Don Martial followed the advice
given him, and after carefully installing himself in a
butacca, looked anxiously around him.
The room in which he found himself was rather
spacious, furnished tastefully and richly; several
valuable pictures hung on the walls, which were
covered with embossed leai,hei, while the furniture
consisted of splendid cavvosi ebony or mahogany
tables, sideboards, cheflbmci's, end butaccas. On the
floor was an Indian petate, several books were
scattered over the tables, and valuable plate was
arranged on the sideboard. In short, this room dis¬
played a'proper comprehension of cornfort, an(J ,thp
130 the bed teacK.
two windows, with their Moorish jalousies, gave ad¬
mission to the pure breeze which greatly refreshed
the atmosphere.
The capataz lighted two candles at the Virgin's
lamp, placed them on the table, and then fetching two
bottles and two silver cups, which he placed before
the Tigrero, he drew up a butacca, and seated himself
opposite his guest. •
"Here is sherry which I guarantee to be real
Xeres de los Caballeros ; this other bottle contains
chinquirito, and both are at your service," he said,
with a laugh; "whether you have a weakness for
sugar cane spirits, or prefer wine."
" Thanks," Don Martial replied, " but I do not feel
inclined to drink."
" You would not wish to insult me by refusing to
hob-nob with me ?"
" Very weU ; if you wiU permit me, I will take a
few drops of chinquirito in water, solely to prove to
you that I am sensible of your politeness."
" All right," the capataz continued, as he handed
him a crystal decanter, covered with curiously worked
silver filagree ; "help yourselfi"
When they had drunk, the capataz a glass of
shciTy, which he sipped like a true amateur, and Don
Tigrero a few drops of chinqufrito drowned in a glass
of water, the capataz placed his glass again on the
table with a smack of his lips, and said—
" Now, I must give you a few words in explanation
i6i tiVÓ''ehghtly ínysterióus way* m which't brought
A CONÏIDENTIAL CONTEESATIOK. 131
you liere, in order to dispel any doubts wbieb may
have involuntarily invaded your mind."
" I am listening to you," the Tigrero answered.
"Take a cigar first, they are excellent." And he
lit one, after pushing the bundle over to Don Martial :
the latter selected one, and soon the two men were
enveloped in a cloud of thin and fragrant smoke.
" We are in the mansion of General Don Sebastian
Guerrero," the capataz continued.
" What ?" the Tigrero exclaimed, with a start of
uneasiness.
" Reassure yourself, no one saw you enter, and
your presence here is quite unknown, for the simple
reason that I brought you in by my private entrance."
"I do not nnderstand you."
" And yet it is very easy to explain ; the house I
led you through belongs to me. For reasons too long
to teU you, and which would interest you but slightly,
during Don Sebastian's absence as Governor of
Sonora, I had a passage made, and established a
communication between my house and this mansion.
Everybody save myself is ignorant of the existence
of this communication, which," he added, with a
glowing smüe, " may at a given moment be of great
utility to me. The room in which we now are forms
part of the suite I occupy in the mansion, in which
the general, I am proud to say, has never yet set
foot: The' itíán'Whó '^tbó'k-yoUr' hoteb''is devoted to
ihev áhd'' evëtf wère he to 'betray ine, it would bè of
littlo cbhsC^uehce tO nie, fot tho' sdcret door of'the
132
THE BED TBACK.
passage is so closely concealed that 1 have no fear of
its heiug discovered. Hence yon see that you have
nothing to fear here, where your px'esence is un¬
known." I
" But suppose you were to be sent for, through
the general happening to want you suddenly ?"
" Certainly, but I have foreseen that ; it is my
system never to leave anything to chance. Although
it has never happened yet, no one can enter here
without my being informed soon enough to get rid of
any person who may be with me, supposing that, for
some reason or another, that person did not desire
to be seen."
" That is capitally araanged, and I am happy to
see that you are a man of prudence."
" Prudence is, as you know, señor, the mother of
safety ; and in Mexico, before all other countries, the
proverb receives its application at every moment."
Tho Tigrero bowed politely, but in the fashion
of a man who considers that the speaker has dwelt
sufliciently long on one subject, and wishes to see him
pass to another. The capataz appeared to read this
almost imperceptible hint on Don Martial's face, and
continued with a smile—
" But enough on that head, so let us pass, if you
have no objection, to the real purpose of our inter¬
view. A man, whose name it is unnecessary to men¬
tion, but to whom, as I Imve already had the, honour
of telling you, I am devoted body and, soul,, eent yeu
to me to obtain certain information you require,,an^
A CONFIDENTIAL CONTEESATION.
133
which he supposes I am in a position to give. I will
now add, that what passed between ns tliis evening,
and the generous way in which yoii i-ushcd to my
assistance, render it my bounden duty not only to
give you this information, but also to help you with
all my might in the success of the projects you are
meditating, whatever those projects may bo, and
the dangers I may incur in aiding you. So, now
speak openly with me ; conceal nothing from me and
you will 'only have to praise my frankness towards
you."
" Señor," the Tigrero answered, with considerable'
emotion, " I thank you the more heartily for your
genç;rous offer, for you know as well as I do what
perils are teonnected with the earrying out of these
plans, to say nothing of their success."
"What you are saying is true, but it will be
better, I fancy, for the present, for me to assume to
, be ignorant of them, so as to leave you the entire
liberty you need for the questions you have to ask
me."
"Yes, yes," he said, shaking his head sadly,
" my position is so preearious, the struggle I am en¬
gaged in is so wild, that, although I am supported by
sincere friends, I cannot be too prudent. Tell me,
then, what you know as to the fate of the unfortunate
Doña Anita de Torres. Is she really dead, as the
report spread alleged ? "
" Do you know what happened in the cavcm after
your fall down the precipice ? "
134
THE EED TEACK.
" Alas ! no ; my ignorance is complete as to the
facts that occurred after I was abandoned as dead."
Carnero reflected for a moment. "Listen, Don
Martial : before I can answer categorically the ques¬
tion you have asked me, I must tell you a long story.
Are you ready to hear it ?"
" Yes," the other answered, without hesitation,
" for there are many things I am ignorant of, which
I ought to know. So speak without further delay,
senor, and though some parts of the narrative will
be most painful to me, hide nothing from me, I im¬
plore you ! "
"You shall be obeyed. Moreover, the night is
not yet far advanced ; time does not press us, and in
two hours you will know aU."
"I am impatiently waiting^for you to begin."
The capataz remained for some considerable time
plunged in deep and serious reflection. At length
he raised his head, leant forward, and setting his
left elbow on the table, began as follows ;—
" At the time when the facts occurred I am about
to tell you, I was living at the Hacienda del Palmar,
of which I was steward. Hence I was only witness
to a portion of the facts, and only know the rest from
hearsay. When the Comanches arrived, guided by
the white men, Don Sylva de Torres was lying mor¬
tally wounded, holding in his stiSened .arms his
daughter Anita, who had suddenly gone mad on see¬
ing you roU down the precipice in the grasp of the
Indian chief. Don Sebastian Guerrero was the only
A CONriDEKTIAIi CONVEESATIOK. X35
relation left to the hapless young lady, and hence she
•was taken to his hacienda."
"What?" Don Martial exclaimed in surprise.
Don Sebastian is a relation of Doña Anita ?"
" Did yon not kno'w that ? "
" I had not the slightest idea of it ; and yet I had
for several years been closely connected with the
Torrès family, for I was their tigrero."
" I know it. Well, this is how the relationship
exists : Don Sebastian married a niece of Don
Sylva's, so you see they were closely connected. Still,
for reasons never thoroughly made, known, a few
years after the general's marriage, a dispute broke
out which led to a total supension of intimacy be¬
tween the two famüies. That is probably the reason
why you never heard of the connection existing be¬
tween the Sylvas and the Torres."
The Tigrero shook his head. " Go on," he said.
" How did the general receive his relation ?"
" He was not at the hacienda at the time ; but an
express was sent off to him, and I was the man.
The general came post haste, seemed greatly moved
at the double misfortune that had befallen the young
lady, gave orders for her to be kindly treated, ap¬
pointed several women to wait on her, and returned
to his post at Sonora, where events of the utmost
gravity summoned him."
"Yes, yes, I have heard of the French invasion,
and that their leader was shot by the general's orders.
I presume you are alluding to that?"
136
THE BED TBACK.
" Yes. Almost immediately after these events
the general returned to the Palmar. He was no
longer the same man. The horrible death of his
daughter rendered him gloomier and harsher to any
person whom chance brought into contact with him.
For a whole week he remained shut up in his apart
ments, refusing to see any of us ; but, at last, one day
he sent for me to inquire as to what had happened at
the hacienda during his absence. I had but little to
tell him, for life was too simple and uniform at tliis
remote dwelling for anything at all interestiug for
him to have occurred. Still he listened without in¬
terruption, with his head in his hands, and apparently
taking great interest in what I told him, especially
when it referred to poor Doña Anita, whoso geutlo
interesting madness drew tears from us rough men,
when we saw her wandering, pale and white as a
spectre, about the huerta, inurmuring in a low voice
one name, ever the same, which none of us could
overhear, and raising to heaven her lovely face,
bathed in tears. The general let me say all I had to
say, and when I ended he, too, remained silent for
some time. At length, raisiug his head, he looked at
me for a moment angrily.
" What are you doing there ?" he asked.
"I am waiting," I answered, "for the orders it
may please your excellency to give me."
He looked at me for a few more moments as if
trying to read my very thoughts, and then laid his
hand on my arm, " Camero," he said to me, " you
A, CONFIDENTIAL CONVEHSATION. 137
have been a long time in my service, but take care lest
I should have to dismiss you. Ido not like," he said,
with a stress on the words, "servants who are too
intelligent and too clearsighted," and when I tried to
excuse myself, he added, " Not a word—profit by the
advice I have given you, and now lead me to Doña
Anita's apartments."
I obeyed with hanging head; the general re¬
mained an hour with the young lady, and I never
knew what was said between them. It is true that
now and then I heard the general speaking loudly
and angrily, and Doña Anita weeping, and apparently
making some entreaty to him ; but that was all, for
prudence warned me to keep at too groat a distance
to overhear a single word. "When the general came
out he was pale, and sharply ordered me to prepare
everytliing for his departure. The morrow at day¬
break we set out for Mexico, and Doña Anita fol¬
lowed us, carried in a palanquin. The journey was a
long one, but so long as it lasted the general did not
once speak to the young lady, or approach the side
of her palanquin. So soon as we reached our jour¬
ney's end. Doña Anita was carried to the Convent
of the Bernardines, where she had been educated,
and the good sisters received her with tears of
sorrowful sympathy. The general, owing to the
influence he enjctyed, easily succeeded in getting
himself appointed guardian to the young lady, and
immediately assumed the management of her estates,
which, as you doubtless are aware, are considerable.
138
THE BED TBAOK.
even in this country where large fortunes are so
common."
"I know it," said the Tigrero, with a sigh.
" All these matters settled," the capataz con¬
tinued, " the general returned to Sonera to arrange
his affairs, and hand over the government to the
person appointed to succeed him, and who started
for his post some days previously. I will not tell
you what happened then, as you know it ; besides, we
have only been back in Mexico for a fortnight, and
you and your friends followed our track from the
Rocky Mountains."
The Tigrero raised his head. " Is that really all ?"
he asked.
" Yes," the capataz answered.
" On your honour ?" Don Martial added, looking
fixedly at her.
Camero hesitated. "Well, no," he said at last,
" there is something else I must tell yon."
CHAPTER XIII.
DON MAETUL.
The capataz rose, opened a door, went out for a
moment, returned] to his seat opposite the Tigrero,
poured himself out a glass of sherry, which he swal¬
lowed at a draught, and then letting his head fall in
his hands, remained silent.
Don Martial watched with amazement the various
DON MABTIAL. 139
movements of the capataz. Seeing at last that he did
not seem inclined to make the confession he was so
impatiently awaiting, he went over and touched him
slightly. Camero started as if suddenly branded with
a hot iron.
" What you have to reveal to me must he very
terrible," the Tigrero at length said in a low voice.
"So terrible, my friend," the capataz answered
with an amount of terror impossible to depict, " that
though alone with you in this room, where no spy
can be concealed, I fear to tell it you."
The Tigrero shook his head sadly. " Speak, my
friend," he said, in a gentle voice, "I have suffered
such agony during the last few months, that all the
springs of my soul have been crushed by the fatal
pressure of despair. However horrible may be the
blow that menaces me, I wül endure it without
flinching ; alas ! grief has no longer power over me."
" Tes, you are a man carved in granite. I know
that you have struggled triumphantly against lost
fortunes ; but, believe me, Don Martial, there are suf¬
ferings a thousandfold more atrocious than death—
sufferings which I do not feel the right of inflicting
on you."
"The pity you testify for mc is only weakness.
I cannot die before I have accomplished the task to
which I have devoted the wretched existence heaven
left me in its wrath. I have sworn, at the peril of
my life, to protect the girl who was betrothed to me
in happier times."
140
THE BED TEACK.
" CaiTy out your oath, then, Don Martial ; for the
poor child was never in greater peril than she is at
present."
" What do you mean ? In heaven's name explain
yourself," the Tigrero said passionately.
" I mean that Don Sebastian covets the incalcu¬
lable wealth of his ward, which he needs for the suc¬
cess of his ambitious plans ; I mean that remorse¬
lessly and shamelessly laying aside all human respect,
forgetting that the unfortunate girl the law has con¬
fided to him is insane, he coldly intends to become
her murderer."
" Go on, go on ! what frightful scheme can this
man have formed ?"
"Oh !" the capataz continued with savage irony;
"the plan is simple, honest, and highly praised by
some persons, who consider it admirable, even sub¬
lime."
" You will tell me ?'.
"Well, know all, then; General Don Sebastian
Guerrero intends to marry his ward." '
" Marry his ward, he !" Don Martial exclaimed
with horror, " 'tis impossible."
" Impossible ?" the capataz repeated with a laugh,
" Oh, how little you know this man with the impla¬
cable will, this wild beast with a human face, who
pitilessly breaks every one who dares to resist him.
He is resolved to marry his ward in order to strip
her of her fortune, and he will do so, I tell you."
"But she is mad !"
DON MAETIaD.
141
" I allow slie is."
" What priest would be so unnatural as to bless
this sacrilegious marriage ?"
"Nonsense," the capataz said with a shrug of his
shoulders, "you forget, my good sh-, that the general
possesses the talisman which renders everything
possible, and purchases everything—men, women,
honour, and conscience ; he has gold,"
" That is true, that is true," the Tigrero exclaimed
in despair, and burying his face in his hands, he re.
mained motionless, as if suddenly struck by lightning.
There was a lengthened silence, during which
nothing was atidible but the choking sobs that burst
fi'om Don Martial's heaving chest. It was a heart¬
rending sight to see this strong, bravo man so tried
by adversity, now. conquered and almost crushed
by despair, and weeping like a frightened child.
The capataz, with his arms crossed on his chest,
pale forehead and eyebrows contracted almost till
they met, looked at him with an expression of gentle
and sympathizing pity.
" Don Martial," he at length said, in a sharp and
imperative voice.
" What do yon want with me ?" the Tigrero asked,
looking up with surprise.
" I want you to listen t^ ne, for I have not said
all yet."
"What more can you have to, tell me?" the
,vúi:!;'Ti;orf{ 'iif.-i T.r ti i,<,i i M i j
other asked sadly. . . , ,
-i ■< -íj' - ;■
"Arouse yourself like "the tnan yoh are^.instead
142
THE BEI) TBACK.
of remaining any longer crushed beneath the pressure
of despair, like a child or a weak woman. Is there
no hope left in your Heart ?"
" Did you not tell me that this man had an implac¬
able will which nothing could resist ?"
" I did say so, I allow ; but is that a reason for
giving up the struggle ? do you suppose him invul¬
nerable ?"
"Yes," he exclaimed eagerly, "I can kill him."
The capataz shrugged his shoulders contemp¬
tuously.
" Kill him," he repeated, " nonsense ; that is the
vengeance of fools ! Moreover, you wiU still be able
to do that when all other means failed. No—you can
do something else."
Don Martial looked at him earnestly. " You hate
him too then, since you do not fear to speak to me
as you are doing ?"
" No matter whether I hate him or not, so long as
I am willing to serve you."
" That is true," the Tigrero muttered.
" Besides," the capataz continued, " do you for¬
get who recommended you to me ?"
"Valentine," said Don Martial.
"Valentine; yes, Valentine, who saved my life as
you have done, and to whom I have vowed an eternal
gratitude."
"Oh," Don Martial said mournfully, "Valentine
imself has given up any further Contest wiüi.,this
emon.
SOK MABTIAL.
143
The capataz grinned savagely. " Do you believe
that ?" he asked ironically.
" What matter ?" the Tigrero muttered.
" Grief makes you egotistic, Don Martial," the
other replied ; " but I forgive you on account of the
sufferings I have most unluckily caused you."
Ho broke off, poured out a glass of sherry, swal¬
lowed it, and sat down again on his butacca.
" He would be a bad physician," he continued,
"who, having performed a painful operation, did
not know how to apply the proper remedies to ci¬
catrize and cure it."
" What do you mean ?" the Tigrero exclaimed
interested, in spite of himself, by the tone in which
those words were uttered.
"Do you believe," the capataz continued, "do
you believe, my friend, that I would have inflicted such
great pain on you if I had not possessed the means to
cause an immense joy to succeed it ? Tell me, do you
believe that ?"
■ , " Take care, señor," the Tigrero said in a trembling
Voice, " take care what you are about, for I know not
why, but I am beginning to regain hope, and I warn
you that if this last illusion which you are trying to
produce were to escape me this time, you would kill
me as surely as if you stabbed me with a dagger."
The capataz smiled with ineffable gentleness.
" Hope, my friend ; hope, I teU you," he said, " that
is exactly what I Waöt tö'brhi^ you to J for T wish
you to'havd faith ih inei" ''' J ■ ' ' > - J •
'114
THE BED TBACK.
" Speak, señor," lie replied; " I will listen to yo*
with confidence, for I do not believe you capable of
sporting so coldly witb agony like mine."
"Good, wo bave reached the point I have been
aiming at so long. Now listen to me. I told yon, I
think, that on her arrival in Mexico, Doña Anita was
taken by Don Sebastian to the Convent of the
Bernardines ?"
" Yes ! I fancy I can remember your saying so."
"Very good. Doña Anita was received with open
arms by the good nuns who had educated her. The
young lady, on finding herself again among the com¬
panions of her ehildhood, treated with kind and intel- ^
ligciit care, wandering unrestrained beneath the lofly
trees that had sheltered her early years, gradually
felt calmness returning to her mind ; her grief by
degrees gave way to a gentle melancholy ; her ideas,
overthrown by a frightful catastrophe, regained their
balance ; in short, the madness which had spread its
black wings over her brain was driven away by the
soft caresses of the nuns, and soon entirely dis¬
appeared."
" So, then," Don Martial exclaimed, " she has re¬
gained her reason ?"
" I will not venture to assert that, for she is still
insane in the opinion of everybody."
"But in that case ," the Tigrero said in a
panting voice.
J ",Id that case,", the capataz cpntinueí^ pvpposely
iaymg a stress on evciy wmd; wjipe fixiojS a WÇne^
DOIT MAETIAL.
145
tic glance on the Tigrero, " as all the world believes
it, it must be so till the contrary is proved."
But how did you learn all these details ?"
" In the most simple manner. My master, Don
Sebastian, has sent me several times to the convent j
with messages, and chance decreed that I recognized ;
in the sister-porter a relation of mine, whom I i
thought dead long ago. The worthy woman, in her
delight, and perhaps, too, to make up for the long '
silence she is compelled to maintain, tells me when¬
ever she sees me all that is said and done in the con¬
vent, and there is a good deal to learn from the con¬
versation of a nun. She takes a good deal of interest
in me, and as I am fond of her too, I listen to her
with pleasure. Now, do you understand ?"
" Oh ! go on. Go on !" * '
" Well, this time I have nearly finished. It ap¬
pears, from what my relation tells me, that the nuns,
and the Mother Superior before all, are utterly op¬
posed to the general's plans of marriage."
" Oh, the holy women !" the Tigrero exclaimed
with simple joy.
" Are they not ?" the capataz said with a laugh.
" This is probably the reason why they keep so secret
the return of their boarder to her senses, for they
doubtless hope that, so long as the poor girl is mad,
the general will not dare contract the impious union
he is meditating ; unfortunately, they do not know the
man with whom they have to deal, and the ferocious
ambition that devours hipo ; an ambition for the gra-
L
146
THE BED TEACH.
tification of which he will recoil from no crime, how¬
ever atrocious it may he."
" Alas !" the Tigrero said despairingly; " you see,
my friend, that I anl lost."
" Wait, wait, my good sir; your situation, perhaps,
is not so desperate as you imagine it."
" My heart is on fire."
" Courage ; and listen to me to the end. Tester-
day I went to the convent, the Mother Superior, to
whom I had the honour of speaking, confided to me,
under the seal of secrecy—for she knows that, al¬
though I am a servant of Don Sebastian, I take a
deep interest in Doña Anita, and would he glad to
see her happy—that the young lady has expressed
an intention to confess."
" Ah, for what reason ! do you know ?"
"No, I do not !"
"But that desire can be easily satisfied, I pre¬
sume, there are plenty of monks and priests attached
to the convent."
" Tour observation is just ; stiU it appears that,
for reasons I am equally ignorant of, neither the
Mother Superior nor Doña Anita wishes to have one
of those monks or priests for confessor, hence "
" Hence ?" Don Martial quickly interrupted him.
" Well, the Mother Superior asked me to bring
her a priest or monk in whom I had confidence."
"Ah!"
" Tou understand, my friend."
" Tes, yes ! Oh, God ! go on !"
BON MAETIAB. 147
" And to take him to the convent,"
" And," Don Martial asked in a choking voice,
" have you found this confessor ?"
" I believe so," the capataz answered with a smUe ;
" and pray, what do you think, Don Martial ?"
" Yes, I do too," he exclaimed joyfully. "At what
time are you to take this confessor to the convent?"
" To morrow, at the Oración."
"Very good, and I presume you have arranged a
place to meet him ?"
" Caspita ! I should think so ; he is to meet me at
the Parian, where I snail be at the first stroke of tho
Oración."
" I am certain that he will be punctual 1"
" And so am I ; and now, señor, do you consider
that you have lost your time in listening to me ?"
"On the contrary," Don Martial replied, as ho
offered him his hand with a smile, " I consider you
a first-rate hand a telling at story."
" You flatter me."
" No, indeed I do not. I consider, too, that the
nuns of St. Bernard are excellent and holy women."
" Caspita ! I should think so ; they have a rela-
•^ion of mine as portress."
The two men burst into a frank and hearty laugh,
whose explosion no one could have anticipated from
the way in which their interview began.
"Now, we must separate," the capataz said, as he
rose.
" What, already ?"
148
THS BED TBACE.
" I have to accompany my master to night on an
excursion outside the city."
" Some plot, I presume ?"
" I am afraid so ; hut what would you have ; I am
forced to obey."
" In that case, turn me out of doors."
" That is what I am going to do ; hy-the-bye, have
you seen Don Valentine since you arrived ?"
" Hot yet. This long delay makes me anxious,
and if it were not so late, or if I knew my road, I
wovdd go and ask hospitality of Don Antonio HaJlier,
his fellow countryman, so as to obtain news of him."
" That is of no consequence. Do you know Don
Antonio's address ?"
" Yes, he lives in the Secunda Monterilla."
" It is close by ; if yon wish it, I wiü have you
taken there."
" I should feel greatly obliged ; but by whom ?"
" Caspita ! have you forgotten the man to whom
you intrusted your horse ? he will act as your guide."
" A thousand thanks !"
" It is not worth them. Will you take a walk to¬
morrow in the Parian ?"
" I am so anxious to see your confessor that I'
shall not fail to be there."
The two men smiled again.
" How, give me your hand, and let us be off."
They went out of the room ; the capataz led the
Tigrero by the same passage, walking along in the
darkness as if it were broad day, and they soon found
BOIT MARTIAL.
149
themselves beneath the sagnan of the small hoxise.
The capataz thrust his head out, after opening the
door cautiously. The street was deserted, and after
looking up and down it, he whistled in a pecuhar way,
and in a few minutes footsteps were heard and the
peon appeared holding the Tigrero's horse by the
bridle.
"Good by, señor," the capataz said. "I thank
you for the delightful evening you have caused me to
spend. Püloto, lead this señor, who is a forastero, to
the Secunda Monterilla, and point out to him the
house of Señor Don Antonio Rallier."
" Yes, mi amo," the peon answered laconically.
The two fiiends exchanged a parting salutation;
the Tigrero mounted, and followed Pñloto, while the
capataz re-entered the house and closed the door
after him. After numberless turnings and windings,
the rider and the footman at length entered a street
which, from its width, the Tigrero suspected to form
part of the fashionable quarter.
" This is the Secunda Monterilla," said the peon,
" and that gentleman," he added, pointing to a horse¬
man who was coming toward them, followed by three
footmen also mounted, and well-armed, " is the very
Don Antonio you are looking for."
" You are sure of it ?" the Tigrero asked.
" Carai ! I know him well."
"If that is the case, accept this piastre, my friend,
and go home, for I no longer need your services."
The peon bowed and retired. During the con-
150
the bed tback.
versation tlie new comer liad halted in evident
alarm.
♦"Tis I, Don Antonio," the Tigrero shouted to
him. " Come on'without fear—I am a friend."
" Oh, oh ! it is very late to meet a friend in the
street," Don Antonio answered, though he advanced
without hesitation, after laying his hand on his weapon
to guard against a surprise.
" I am Martial, the Tigrero."
" Oh, that is different ; what do you want? A
lodging, eh ? I will have you led to my house by a
servant, and there leave you till to-morrow, as 1 am
in a hurry."
" Agreed ; hut allow me one word."
"Speak!"
"Where is Don Valentine ?"
" Do you want to see him ?"
" Excessively."
" Then come with me, for I am going to him !"
"Heaven has sent him thus opportunely," the
Tigrero exclaimed, as he drew his horse up alongside
Don Antonio's.
• J
CHAPTER XIV.
the veioeio.
It was very late when the conspirators separated,
and when the last groups of officers left the rancho,
THE VELOßlO.
151
the sotmd of the Indian horses and mules proceeding
to market was audible on the paved highway. Al¬
though the darkness was still thick, the stars were
beginning to die out in the heavens, the cold was
becoming sharper—^in a word, all foretold that day
would soon break.
The two travellers had seated themselves again
at a comer of the table, opposite one another, and
were dumb and motionless as statues. The host walked
about the room with a busy air, apparently arranging
and clearing up, but very anxious in reahiy, and de¬
sirous, in his heart, to be rid as soon as possible of
these two singular customers, whose silence and
sobriety inspired bim with but slight confidence.
At length the person who had always spoken on
his own behalf and that of his companion stmck the
table twice, and the landlord hurried up at this
summons.
" What do you wish for, excellency ?" he asked,
with an obsequious air.
"I tell you what, landlord," the stranger con¬
tinued, "it strikes me that your criado is a long
time in returning ; he ought to have been back be¬
fore this."
" Pardon me, excellency, but it is a long journey
from here to the Secunda Monterilla, especially when
you are obliged to walk it. Still, I believe the peon
wiU soon be back."
" May Heaven hear you ! Œve us each a glass
of tamarind water."
152
THE BED TBACE.
At this moment, when the landlord brought the
draught, there was a tap at the door.
" Perhaps it is our man," the stranger said,
" That is possible, your excellency," the landlord
answered, as he went to open the door on the chain,
which left only a passage of a few inches, mnch too
narrow for the visitor to enter the honse against the
wish of its owner. This precautionary measure,
which is at once very prudent and simple, is generally
adopted all through Mexico, owing to the slight con¬
fidence with which the police organization in this
blessed country, which is the refuge of scoundrels of
every description, inspires the inhabitants.
After exchanging a few words in a low voice
with the new arrival, the landlord unhooked the
chain and opened the door.
" Excellency," he said to the stranger, who was
slowly sipping his tamarind water, "here is your
messenger."
"At last," the traveller said, gladly, as he placed
his horn mug on the table.
The peon entered, politely doffed his hat and
bowed.
" Well, my Mend," the stranger asked him, " did
you find the person to whom I sent yon ?"
" Yes, excellency, I had the good fortune to find
him at home on his return from a terttdia in the
Calle San Agustin."
"Ah, ah ! and what did he say on receiving my
note ?"
THE VELOEIO.
153
'• Well, /excellency, he is a caballero, for sure ; for
he first gave me a piastre, and then said to me, ' Go
back as quick as you can walk, and tell the gentle¬
man who sent you that I shall be at the meeting he
appoints as soon as yourself.' "
« So that
" He will probably be here in a few minutes."
"Very good, you are a clever lad," the stranger
answered; "here is another piastre for you, and
now you can retire."
" Thanks, your excellency," the peon said, joy-
fiiUy pocketing his piastre. " Carai ! I should be a
rich man with only two nights a month like this."
And after bowing a second time, he left the room
to go and sleep, in all probability, in the corral.
The peon had told the truth, for he had scarce left the
room ten minutes ere a rather loud voice was heard
without : horses stamped, and not only was the door
struck, but there were several loud calls.
" Open the door without fear," the stranger said ;
" I know that voice."
The ranchero obeyed, and several persons entered
the inn.
" At last you have returned, my dear Valentine,"
the new comer exclaimed in French, as he walked
quickly towards the travellers, who, for their part,
went to meet him.
" Thanks for your promptitude in responding to
my invitation, my dear Ballier," the hunter an¬
swered.
15é
THE BEH TBACE.
The ranchero bit his lips on hearing them talk in
a language he did not understand.
"Hum! they are Ingleses," he muttered spite¬
fully. " I suspected they must be gringos."
It is a general rule with the lower class Mexicans
that all foreigners are English, and consequently
hunters or gringos.
"Come here, No Lusacho," Valentino said,
addressing the landlord, who was turning his hat
between his fingers with an air of considerable em¬
barrassment, " I have to talk ®n important matters
with these gentlemen, and as I do not wish to be
disturbed by you, I propose that you should give me
up this room for an hour."
" Excellency," he muttered.
"I understand, you expect to be paid. Very
good, I will pay you, but on condition that nt ^ne,
not even yourself, comes in till I call."
" Still, your excellency ."
"Listen to me without interruption. Day will
not break for two hours, so you wiU not open yout
rancho tUl then, and, consequently, you have no cus¬
tomers to expect. I will pay an ounce fi>r each hour ;
will that suit you
"I should think so, your excellency; at that
price I will sell you the whole day if you wish."
" That is not necessary," the hunter said, with a
laugh ; " but you understand I want fair play—no
ears on the- listen, or eyes at the shts of the
panelling."
THE VEIOEIO.
155
" I am an honest man, yonr excellency."
" I am ready to believe so ; bnt I warn yon, be¬
cause in the event of my seeing an eye or an ear lap,
I shall immediately fire a bullet at it as a recommen¬
dation to prudence, and I have the ill luck to be a
dead shot. Does the bargain suit you with those
conditions ?"
" Perfectly, your excellency. I shall keep a strict
watch over my people, so that you shall not be dis¬
turbed."
''Tou arc a splendid landlord, and I predict that
you will make a rapid fortune, for I see that you
thoroughly understand your own interests."
" I try to satisfy the gentry who honour my poor
abode with their presence."
"Excellently reasoned! Here are the two pro¬
mised ounces, and four piastres in the bargain for the
refreshments you are going to serve us. Have these
gentlemen's horses taken to the corral, and have the
goodness to leave us."
The landlord bowed -with a grimacing smile,
brought, with a speed far from common with people
of his calling, the refreshments ordered, and gave the
hunter a deep bow.
" How," he said, "your excellency is in your own
house, and no one shall enter without your orders."
While Valentine was making this bargain with
the ranchero, his friends remained silent, laughing
inwardly at the hunter's singular mode of proceeding,
and the unanswerable arguments he employed to
156
TUE BEB TBAÜK.
avoid an espionage almost always to be found in
such places, when the master does not scruple to
betray those who pay him best.
" Now," said Valentine, so soon as the door closed
behind the landlord, " we shaU talk at least in safety."
" Speak Spanish, my friend," said M. Ballier.
"Why so? It is so delightful to converse in
one's own tongue, when, like me, you have so few
opportunities for doing so. I assure you that Curu-
milla will not feel offended."
" Hum ; I did not say this on behalf of the ehief,
whose inendship for you I am well aquainted with."
" Who then?"
" For Don Martial, who has accompanied me, and
has important matters to communicate to you."
" Oh, oh, that changes the question," said the
hunter, at once substituting Spanish for the French
he had hitherto employed. " Are you there, my dear
Don Martial ?"
"Yes, señor," the Tigrero answered, emerging
from the gloom in which he had remained up to this
moment, " and very happy to see you."
" Who else have you brought with you, Don An¬
tonio ?"
"Me, my friend," said a third person, as he let
the folds of his cloak fall. "My brother thought
that it would be better to have a companion, in the
event of an alarm."
"Your brother was right, my dear Edward, and
I thank him for the good idea, which procures me
THE VEEOBIO.
157
the pleasure of shaking your hand a few moments
sooner. And now, señores, if you are agreeable, we
will sit down and talk, for, if I am not mistaken, we
have certain things to tell each other which are most
important for us."
" That is true !" Antonio Rallier answered, as he
sat down, in which he was immediately imitated by
the rest.
"If you like," Valentine continued, "we will pro¬
ceed in regular rotation ; that is, I fancy, the way to
finish more quickly, for you know that moments are
precious."
" First, and before all else, my fnend," said An¬
tonio Rallier, " permit me to thank you once again, in
my own name and that of my family, for the services
you rendered me in our journey across the Rocky
Mountains. "Without you, without your watchful
fiiendship and courageous devotion, we should never
have emerged from those frightful gorges, but must
have perished miserably in them."
" What good is it, my friend, to recal at this mo¬
ment "
" Because," Antonio Rallier continued eagerly, " I
wish you to be thoroughly convinced that you can
dispose of us all as you please. Our arms, purses,
and heari r-, all belong to you."
" I know it, my friend, and you see that I have
not hesitated to make use of you, at the risk even of
compromising you. So let us leave this subject, and
come to facts. "What have you done ?"
158
TUE BED TEACK.
" I have literally followed your instructions ; ac»
cording to your wish, I have hired and famished for
you a house in Tacuba Street."
"Pardon me, but you know that I am very
sbghtly acquainted with Mexico, for I have visited
that city but rarely, and each time without stopping."
"The Tacuba is one of the principal streets in
Mexico ; it faces the palace, and is close to the street
in which I reside with my family."
" That is famous. And in whose name did you
take the house ?"
" In that of Don Serapio de la Eonda. Your ser¬
vants arrived two days ago."
"You mean "
"I mean Belhumeur and Black Elk; the former
is your steward and the latter yom* valet. They have
made all the arrangements, and you can arrive when
you please."
" To-day, then."
" I will act as your guide."
" Thank you ; what next ? "
"Next, my brother Edward has taken, in his
own name, at the San Lazaro gate, a small house,
where ten horses, belonging to the purest mustang
breed, were at once placed in a magnificent corral."
" That concerns Curumilla ; he will live in that
house with your brother."
" And now one other thing, my friend."
"Speak!"
" You will not be angry with me ?"
THE VEiOBIO.
159
"With you? nonsense!" said Valentine, holding
out his hand.
" Not knowing whether you had sufficient funds
at your disposal—and you will agree with me that
you will require a large sum —"
" I know it. Well ? "
"Well,! "
" I see I must come to your assistance, my poor
Antonio. As you believe me a poor devil of a hunter
not possessed of a farthing, and are so delicate min ded
yourself, you have placed in a comer of the room, or
in some article of furniture, of which you want to
give me the key and don't know how, fifty or perhaps
one hundred thousand piastres, with the reservation
to offer me more, should not that sum prove sufficient."
" Woiild you be angry with me had I done so ?"
" On the contrary, I should be most grateful to
you."
" In that case I am glad."
" Glad of what, my dear Antonio ?"
" That you accept the hundred thousand piastres."
Valentine smiled.
" I am delighted to find that you are the man I
judged you to be. Still, while thanking you from my
heart for the service you wish to render me, I do not
accept it."
" Do you refuse, Valentine ?" he said mournfully.
" Let us understand each other, my friend. I do not
refuse; I simply tell you that I do not want the
money, and here is the proof," he added, as he took
160
THE BED TRACK.
from his pocket a folded paper, which he handed to
his countryman, " you, as a hanker, may know the
firm of Thomwood, Davison, and Co."
" It is the richest in San Francisco."
" Then open that paper and read,"
Mr. Rallier obeyed.
" An unlimited credit opened at my house," ho
exclaimed in a voice tremulous with joy.
" Does that displease you ?" Valentine asked with
a smile.
" On the contrary ; but you must be rich in that
case."
A cloud of sadness passed over the hunter's fore¬
head.
" I have grieved you, my friend."
"Alas! as you know, there are certain wounds
which never close. Yes, my friend, I am rich ; Curu-
milla, Belhumeur, and myself alone, now that niy
foster-mother is dead, know in Apacheria the richest
placer that exists in the world. It was for the pui-pose
of going to this placer that I did not accompany you to
Mexico; now you understand; but what do I care
for this incalculable fortune, when my heart is dead,
and the joy of my life is for ever annihilated !"
And under the weight of the deep emotion that
crushed him, the hunter hung his head down and
stifled a sob. Curumilla arose amid the general
silence, for no one ventured to ofier ordinary con¬
solation for this grief, and laid his hand on Valentine's
shoulder—
THE VELOEIO.
161
" Koutonepi," lie said to him in a hollow voice,
"remember that you have sworn to avenge our
brother."
The hunter drew himself up as if stung by a ser¬
pent, and pressing the hand the Indian offered him,
he looked at him for a moment with strange fixedness.
"Women alone weep for the dead, because they
are unable to avenge them," the Indian continued in
the same harsh, cutting accent.
" Yes, you are right," the hunter ansjirered with
feverish energy; "I thank you, chief, for having
recalled me to myself."
Curumilla laid his friend's hand on his heart, and
stood for an instant motionless ; at length he let it
fall, sat down again, and wrapping himself in his
sarape, he returned to his habitual silence, from which
so grave a circumstance alone could have aroused
him. Valentine passed his hand twice over his
forehead, which was bathed in cold perspiration, and
attempted a faint snule.
"Forgive me, my fi*iends, for having forgotten,
during a moment, the character I have assumed," he
said in a gentle voice.
Their hands were silently extended to him.
" Now," he exclaimed in a firm voice, in whose
notes traces of the past tempest were still audible,
" let us speak of that poor Poña Anita de 'Forres."
"Alas!" said the elder Rallier, "I cannot tell
you anything, although my sister Helena, her cotu-
panion at the Convent of the Bernardines, to which
ic
162
THE BED TBACK.
I sent her in accordance with your wish, has let me
know that she would have grand news for us in a few
days."
" I wül give you that news, with your permission,"
Don Martial said at this moment, suddenly joining
in the conversation, to which he had hitherto listened
with great indifference.
" Do you know anything ?" Valentine asked him.
" Tes, something most important ; that is why I
was so anxious to speak with you."
" Speak then, my friend, speak, we are listening."
The Tigrero, without ftirther pressing, at once re¬
ported, in the fhllest details, his interview with Don
Sebastian Guerrero's capataz. The three Frenchmen
listened with the most serious attention, and when he
had finished his story, Valentine rose—
" Let us be off, señores," he said, " we have no
time to lose ; perhaps heaven offers us, at this mo¬
ment, the opportumty we have been so long awaiting."
The others rose without asking the hunter for any
explanation, and a few minutes later Valentine and
his comrades were galloping along the highway in the
direction of Mexico.
"I do not know what diabolical plot they are
forming," No Lusacho muttered, on seeing them dis¬
appear in the distance ; " but they are worthy gen¬
tlemen, and let the ounces slip through their fingers
like so much water."
And he entered the rancho, the door of which
ho now left open, for day was breaking.
THE CONVENT OF THE BEENAEDINE3. 163
CHAPTER XV.
the convent op the bernardines.
The Mstory of colonies is the same everywhere, that
is to say, that you find the old belief, the forgotten
manners and customs of the mother country intact,
and almost exaggerated.
Mexico was to Spain what Canada still is to
France. In Mexico we, therefore, find the Spain of the
monks, with all the abuses of a degenerate monastic
life ; for we are compelled to state that with few. Very
few exeeptions, the monks of Mexico are fiir from
leading an exemplary life. A few years ago a Papal
legate arrived at Mexico, who had been sent to try
and introduce into the monasteries reforms which had
become urgent ; but he soon recognized the impossi¬
bility of success, and returned as he came. This is
the history of yesterday and to-day, and in the way
things are going on, it wiU be the history of to¬
morrow.
In spite of the innumerable revolutions the Mexi¬
can monks are still very rich. Among other uses to
which they put their money, the best is, perhaps,
lending it out at six per cent., which, let us hasten to
add, is a great blessing in a coimtry where the ordi¬
nary interest on borrowed money is sixteen to eighteen
per cent. Still, it appears to us, and we trust the
remark will not be t^ken in bad part, but little in
161 XHE BED TBACE.
harmony with the vocation of the monks and the pnre
doctrines of religion, which is so opposed to lending
money ont at interest, for it has ever seen in it dis¬
guised usury.
We wiU add, at the risk of incurring the blame
of some persons, and of appearing to emit a paradox,
that, in this collection of Christian religious buildings
there seems to be kept up the tradition of the great
Mexican Teocali, which contained within its walls
seventy-eight buildings devoted to the Aztec worship.
In the first place, what is the religion professed
in Spanish America ? It certainly is not the Catholic
faith ; and this we can affirm with a safe conscience,
and supply proof if necessary. The Americans of
the south, like all southern peoples, are instinctively
Pagans, fond of war and holidays, making a god of
each saint, adoring the Virgin under a hundred dif¬
ferent forms, digging up the old Aztec idols, placing
them in all the Mexican churches, and offering them
worship under the characteristic denomination of
Sautes antiguos, or ancient saints.
What can be said after this ? Simply that the
Hispano-Americans never understood the religion
they were compelled to profess ; that they care but
very little for it, and in their hearts cling to their
old worship in the terrific proportion of the native
to the European population, that is to say two-thirds
to one. Hence the demoralization of the masses,
which is justly complained of, but is the fault of
ibose persains who, at the outset, beheved they could
THE COHTEHT Ol THE BEENABDINES. 165
establish the religion of Christ in their conntries by
fire and sword—a system, we are bound to add, scru¬
pulously followed by the Spanish clergy, up to the
Proclamation of the Independence of the colonies.
The Convent of the Bernardines is situated but
a short distance from the Paseo de Bucarelli. Not
one of the religious communities for women scattered
over Mexico is so rich as this one, for the kings of
Spain and nobles of the highest rank gave it large
endowments, which, in the course of time, have
grown into an immense fortune.
The vast oite occupied by the Convent of the
Bernardines, the thick walls that surround it, and the
numerous domes that crown it, sufiBciently indicate
the importance it enjoys at the present day.
Like all the Mexican convents, and especially that
at San Francisco, to which it bears a distant resem¬
blance, the Convent of the Bernardines is defended by
thick walls, flanked by massive buttresses, which give
it the appearance of a fortress. StiU the peacefiil
belfries, and their cupolas of enamelled porcelain
covering so many chapels, allow the pious destination
of the edifice to be recognized. An immense paved
court leads to the principal chapel, which is adorned
with a luxury that it would be difBcult to form an
idea of in our sceptical Europe.
Behind this first court is the space reserved for
the nuns, consisting of immense cloisters, adorned
with pictures by old masters, and white jasper basins
from which limpid fountains rise. Next come im-
166 ' THE BEB TBACE. ;
•
mense huertas with umbrageous walks, wide court¬
yards, a rich and valuable library in which the scien¬
tific wealth of Mexico lies buried, eight spacious,
comfortable, and airy dormitories, four hundred cells
for the nuns, and a refectory in which four hundred
guests can sit without crowding.
On the day when we introduce the reader into
the Convent of the Bernardines, at about five in the
evening, three persons, collected in a leafy arbour,
almost at the end of the garden, were talking to¬
gether with considerable animation.
Of these persons, one, the eldest, was a nun, while
the other two, girls of from sixteen to eighteen years
of age, wore the garb of novices.
The first was the Mother Superior of the convent,
a lady of about fifty years of age, with delicate and
aristocratic features, gentle manners, and noble and
majestic demeanour, whose face displayed kindness
and intelligence.
The second was Doña Anita ; we will not draw her
portrait, for the reader has long been acquainted with
her.* The poor girl, however, was pale and white as
a corpse, her fever-parched eyes were not easy, fixed
on any object, and she looked about her hurriedly and
desperately.
The third was Doña Helena Rallier, a light-
haired, blue-eyed girl, with a saucy look, whose
velvety cheeks, and noble and well-defined features,
revealed the candour and innocence of youth, com-
• See " Tiger Slayer." Same publishere.
THE CONVENT OF THE BEENABDINES. 167
bined witb the laughing expressions of a boarder
spoiled by an indulgent governess.
Doña Helena was standing a little outside the
arbour, leaning against & tree, and seemed like a
vigilant sentry carefully watching lest the conversa¬
tion between the Mother Superior and her companion
should be disturbed.
Doña Anita, seated on a stone bench by the side
of the Abbess, with her hand in the elder lady's, and
her head resting on her shoulder, was speaking to
her in a faltering voice and broken sentences which
found difficulty in passing her parted lips, while
the tears silently ran down her cheeks, which suffer¬
ing had rendered pale.
"My kind mother," she said, and her voice,
was harmonious as the sigh of an iEolian harp, " I
know not how to thank you for your inexhaustible
kindness towards me. Alas ! you are at present my
only friend ; why may I not be allowed to remain
always by your side ? I should be so glad to take
my vows and pass my life in this convent under
your benevolent protection."
" My dear child," the Abbess said gently, " God
is great, his power is infinite ; hence, why despair ?
Alas ! doubt leads to denial ; you are still almost a
child. Who knows what joy and happiness the future
may still have in store for you ?"
The maiden gave a heavy sigh, "Alas!" she
murmured, " the future no longer exists for me, my
kind mother ; a poor orphan, abandoned without pro-
168
THE BED TEACH.
tection to tho power of an nnnatural relation, I must
endnre fearful tortures, and, nnder his iron yoke, lead
a life of suffering and grief."
" Child," the Abbess said, with gentle sternness,
*' do not blaspheme ; you are still ignorant, I repeat,
of what the future may have in store for you. You
are ungrateful at this moment—ungrateful and sel¬
fish."
" I ungrateful ! holy mother !" the maiden ob¬
jected.
"Yes, you are imgrateful, Anita, to us and to
yourself. Do you consider it nothing, after the fHghtful
misfortune that burst on you, to have returned to this
convent in which your childhood was spent, and to
have found among us that family which the world
refused you ? Is it nothing to have near you hearts
that pity you, and voices that incessantly urge you to
have courage ?"
" Courage, sister," Doña Helena's sweet voice said
at this moment, like a soft echo.
The maiden hid her lovely tear-bedewed fiice in
the bosom of the Mother Superior.
"Pardon me, mother," she continued, "pardon
me, but I am crushed by this struggle, which I have
carried on so long without hope. The courage you
attempt to give me cannot, in spite of my efforts,
penetrate to my heart, for I have the fatal conviction
that, whatever you may do, you will not succeed in
preventing the fiightfol misfortime suspended over
my head."
THE CONTENT OP THE BERNAEDINES. 169
" Let US reason a utile, my cüild, like sensible
persons; up to the present, at least, we have suc¬
ceeded in concealing from everybody the happy re¬
turn of your senses."
" Happy !" she sighed.
" Yes, happy ; for with the intellect faith, that is
to say, strength, returned to you. Well, while your
guardian believes you still insane, and is compelled,
in spite of himself, to suspend his schemes with re¬
ference to you, I have been employing all the influ¬
ence my high position gives me, and my family
coimections. I have had a petition on your behalf
presented to the President of the Republic by sure
hands ; this petition is supported by the greatest
names in Mexico, and I ask in it that the marriage
with which you are menaced may not be contracted
against your will ; in a word, I ask that your guar¬
dian may be prevented taking any steps tül you are
in a proper condition to say yes or no."
" Have you really done that, my good mother ?"
the maiden exclaimed, as she threw her arms in real
delight round the elder lady's neck.
" Yes, I have done so, my child, and I am expect¬
ing every moment a reply, which I hope will be
favourable."
" Oh, mother, my real mother, if that succeeds I
shall be saved."
" Do not go from one extreme to the other, my
child ; all is uncertain yet, and heaven alone knows
whether we shall be successful."
170
THE BED TEACK.
" Oh, God will not abandon a poor orphan."
" God, my child, chastens those He loves ; have
confidence in Him, and his right hand will be ex¬
tended over you to sustain you in advhrsity."
" Sister Redemption is coming this way, holy
mother," Doña Helena said at this moment.
At a sign" fi*om the Mother Superior, Doña Anita
withdrew to the other end of the bench on which she
was seated, folded her arms on her chest, and let her
head droop.
" Are you looking "for our mother, sister ?" Doña
Helena asked a rather elderly lay sister, who was
looking to the right and left as if reaUy seeking some-,
body.
" Yes, sister," the lay sister answered, " I wish to
deliver a message with which I am entrusted for our
mother."
" Then enter this arbour, sister, and you wiU find
her reposing there."
The lay sister entered the arbour, approached the
Mother Superior, stopped modestly threç paces from
her, folded her arms on her breast, looked down re-
spectftdly, and waited tiU she was spoken to.
" "What do you desire, daughter ?" the Mother
Superior asked her.
" Your blessing, in the first place, holy mother,"
the lay sister answered.
" I can give it you, daughter ; and now what
message have you for me ?"
" Holy mother, a gentleman of lofty bearing, called
THE CONTENT OP THE BEBNAEDINES. 171
Don Serapio de la Ronda, wishes to speak with yon
privately ; the sister porter took him into the parlonr,
where he is waiting for you."
" I will be with him directly, daughter ; tell the
sister porter to apologize in my name to the gentle¬
man, if I keep him waiting longer than I like, owing
to my advanced age. Go on, I follow you."
The lay sister bowed respectfully to the abbess,
and went away to deliver the message with which
she was entrusted. The abbess rose, and the two girls
sprang forward to support her ; but she stopped them.
" Remain here till the Oración, my children," she
said to them, "converse together; but be prudent,
and do not let yourselves be surprised; after the
Oración, you wül come and converse in my cell."
Then after giving Doña Anita a parting kiss, the
Mother Superior went away, sorely troubled in mind
at this visit from a man she did not know, and whose
name she now heard for the ñrst time. When she
entered the parlour, the abbess examined with a hasty
glance the person who asked to see her, and who, on
perceiving her, rose from his chair, and bowed to her
respectfully. This first glance was favourable to the
stranger, in whom rue reader has doubtless already
recognized Valentine Guillois.
" Pray resume your seat, caballero," the abbess
said to him, " if your conversation is to last any time,
we shall talk more comfortably when sitting."
Valentine bowed, offered the lady a chair, and
then returned to his own.
172
THE BED TBACK.
" Señor Don Serapio de la Ronda was announced
to me," the lady continued after a short silence.
" I am that gentleman, madam," Valentine said
courteously.
" I am at your orders, caballero, and ready to
listen to any communication you may have to make."
" Madam, I have nothing personal to say to yon ;
I am merely commissioned by the Minister of the
Home Department to dehver you this letter, to which
I have a few words to add."
While uttering this sentence with exquisite polite¬
ness, Valentine offered the abbess a letter bearing thé
ministerial arms.
"Pray open the letter, madam," he added, on seeing
that, through politeness, she held it in her hand un¬
opened, " you must render yourself acquainted with
its contents in order to understand the meaning of
the words I have to add."
The abbess, who in her heart was impatient to
know what the minister had to say to her, offered no
objection, and broke the seal of the letter, which she
hurriedly perused. On reading it a lively expression
of joy lit up her face.
" Then," she exclaimed, " his excellency deigns to
grant my request ?"
" Yes, madam ; you remain, until fresh orders,
responsible for your young charge. You have only to
deal with the minister in the matter ; and," he added,
with a purposed stress on the words, " in the event
of General Guerrero, the guardian of Doña ,Anita,
the confessoè.
173
trying to force you into surrendering her to him,
you are authorized to conceal the young lady, who
is Jor so many reasons an object of interest, in any
house of the order you please."
" Oh, señor," she answered, her eyes filling with
tears of joy, " pray thank his excellency in my name
for the act of justice he has deigned to perform in
favour of this unfortunate young lady."
" I will have that honour, madam," Valentine said,
as he rose ; " and now that I have delivered my mes¬
sage, permit me to take leave of you, while con¬
gratulating myself that I was selected by his Excel¬
lency the Minister to be his intermediary with you."
At the moment when Valentine left the convent.
Carnero entered it, accompanied by a monk, whose
hood was pulled down over his_ face. The hunter
and the capataz exchanged a side glance, but did not
speak.
CHAPTER XVI.
the cokeessob.
Mexico, as we have already stated, was, after the
conquest, completely rebuilt on the original plan, so
that, at the present day, it offers nearly the same
sight as struck Cortez when he entered it for the
first time. The Plaza Mayor, especially, some years
back, before the French innovations, more or less
good, were introduced, offered towards evening a most
picturesque scene.
174
the bed teack.
This immense square is bounded on one side by
the Portales de Mercaderes ; heavy arches supported
on one side by immense stones, and on the other by
pilasters, at the foot of which are the alacenas or shops.
The ayuntamiento, the president's palace, the
cathedral, the sagrario, the portal de las flores, an
immense bazaar for merchandize, and the Parian, also
a bazaar, complete, or rather completed, at the period
when our history takes place, the fourth side of the
square, for recently great changes have taken place,
and the Parian, among other buildings, has disap¬
peared. The handsomest streets, such as the Tacuba,
Mint, Monterüla, Santo Domingo, etc., débouché on
the great square.
The cathedral stands exactly on the site of the
ancient great Mexican Teocali, all the buüdings of
which it has absorbed ; unfortunately this buüding,
which is externally splendid, does not come up in¬
ternally to the idea formed of it, for its ornaments
are in bad taste, poor and paltry.
Between five and six in the evening, or a few
minutes before Oración, the appearance of the Plaza
Mayor becomes really fairy-like. The crowd of strol¬
lers—a strange crowd were there ever one—flocks up
from all sides at once, composed of horsemen, pedes¬
trians, ofdcers, priests, soldiers, campesinos, leperos,
Indian women in red petticoats, ladies of fashion in
their sayas, and aU the people come, go, otoss and
jostle each other, mingling their conversation with
the cries of children, the vociferations of the leperos.
TEE CONFESSOB. 175
I
who torment purchasers with their impetuosity, and
the shrill appeals of the sellers of tamales and quera-
tero, crouching in the shade of the porticos.
A few minutes before the Oración, a Franciscan
monk, recognizable by his blue gown, and silken cord
round his waist, and whose large white felt hat,
pulled down over the eyes, almost completely con¬
cealed his face, came from the Calle Monterilla, and
entered the Plaza Mayor.
This man, who was tall and apparently powerfully
built, walked slowly, with hanging head and arms
crossed on his chest, as if plunged in serious reflec¬
tion. Instead of entering the thronged Portales, he
crossed the square and proceeded towards the Parian,
which was very lively at, the moment, for the Parian
was a bazaar, resembling the Temple of Paris, and was
visited at this period by persons, the leanness of
whose purses only allowed them to purchase here their
jewellery and smart clothing, which, in any other
part of the city would have been much too expensive
for them.
Not attending to the noise or movement around
him, the Franciscan leant his shoulder against the
stall of an evangelista, or public writer, and looked
absently and wearily across the square. He did not
remain long in this position, however, for just after he
had reached the Parian, the Oración began. At the
first peal of the cathedral bells, all the noises ceased in
the square ; the crowd stopped, heads were uncovered,
and each muttered a short prayer in a low voice.
176
THE BED TBACE.
At the last stroke of the Oración, a hand was laid
on the Franciscan's shoulder, while a voice whispered
in his ear—
" Tou are exact to the rendezvous. Señor Padre."
" I am performing my duty, my son," the monk
at once answered, turning round.
In the person who addressed him he doubtless
recognized a friend, for he offered him his hand by a
spontaneous movement.
"Are you still resolved to attempt the adven¬
ture ?" the first speaker continued.
" More than ever, señor."
" Bear in mind that you must not mention my
name ; we do not know each other ; you are a monk
from the San Franciscan monastery, whom I fetched
to confess a young novice at the Convent of the Ber¬
nardines. It is understood that you do not know who
lam?"
" My brother, we poor monks are at the service
of the afflicted ; om- duty orders us to help them
when they claim our support ; as we have no name
for society, we are forbidden to ask that of those who
summon us."
" Excellently spoken," the other replied, repress¬
ing a smile. " You are a monk according to my own
heart. I see that I am not deceived with respect to
you ; come then, my father, we must not keep the
person waiting who is expecting us."
The Franciscan bowed his assent, placed himself
on the right of his singular friend, and both went
THE C01TPES30E.
177
away from the Parian, where the noise had become
louder than ever, after the angelos had ceased ringing.
The two men passed unnoticed through the crowd,
and walked in the direction of the Convent of the
Bernardines, going along silently, side by side.
We have said that at the convent-gate they passed
Don Serapio de la Eonda, that is to say, Valentino
Guilléis, and that the three men exchanged a side
glance full of meaning. The sister-porter made no
objection to admitting the !|?ranciscan ; and his guide,
so soon as he saw him inside the convent, took leave of
him after exchanging a few common-place compliments
with the sister. The latter respectfully led the :nonk
into a parlour, and after begging him to wait a mo¬
ment, went away to inform the Mother Superior of the
arrival of the confessor whom the young novice had
requested to see.
We will leave the Franciscan for a little while to
his meditations, and return to the two young ladies
whom we left in the garden. So soon as the abbess
had withdrawn, they drew closer together, Doña
Helena taking the seat on the bench previously occu¬
pied by the abbess.
" My dear Anita," she said, " let me profit by the
few minutes we are left alone to impart to you the
contents of a letter I received this morning ; I feared
that I should be unable to do so, and yet it seems to
me that what I have to tell you is most important."
" What do you mean, my dear Helena ? Does
the letter to which you refer interest me ?"
»
178
THE BED TBACK.
" I cannot positively explain to you, but it will be
sufficient for you to know that my brothers are very
intimate with a countryman of ours who takes the
greatest interest in you, and what I have to tell you
relates to this Frenchman." '
"That is strange," said Doña Anita, pausing.
" I never knew but one Frenchman, and I have told
you the sad story which was the cause of aU the mis¬
fortunes that overwhelmed me. But the Frenchman
whom my father wished me to marry died under
frightful circumstances ; then who can this gentleman
be who takes so lively an interest in me—do you
know him ?"
" Very slightly," the young lady answered with a
blush, " but sufficiently to be able to assure you that
he possesses a noble heart. He does not know you
personally ; but," she added, as she drew a letter from
her bosom, and opened it, " this is the passage in my
brother's letter which refers to you and him. Shall I
read it to yon ?"
" Pray read it, my dear Helena, for I know the
friendship you and your family entertain for me;
hence, it is with the greatest pleasure I receive news
of yoim brothers."
" Listen then," the young lady continued, and she
read, after seeking for the passage—
" ' Valentine begs me, dear sister, to ask yon to tell
your friend'—that is you," she said, breaking off.
" Gro on," Doña Anita answered, whose curiosity
bad been aroused by the name Helena had pro-
THE CONEESSOB.
179
nounced, though it was impossible for her to know
who that person was.
" ' To tell your friend,' Doña Helena continued,
' that the confessor she asked for will come to the
convent this very day after the Oración. Doña Anita
must arm herself with courage, which is as necessary
to endure joy as grief, for she will learn to-day some
news possessing immense importance for the future."
That is underlined," the young lady added, as she
bent over to her friend, and pointed to the sentence
with the tip of her rosy finger.
, " That is strange," Doña Anita murmured. "Alas!
what news can I learn ?"
" Who knows ?" said Tier young companion, and
then continued—" ' Before aU, Doña Anita must be
prudent ; and however extraordinary what she hears
may appear to her, she must be careful to conceal the
effect produced by this revelation, for she must not
forget that if she have devoted friends, she is closely
watched by all-powerful enemies, and the slightest im¬
prudence would hopelessly neutralize all the efforts
that we are making to save her. Tou cannot, my dear
sister, lay sufficient stress on this recommendation.'
The rest," the maiden added, with a smile, "only
relates to myself, and it is, therefore, unnecessary for
me to read it to you."
And she refolded the letter, which disappeared in
her dress again.
"And now, my darling, you are warned," she
said ; " so be pnident."
180
THE BED TBACE.
" Good heaven ! I do not understand the letter
at all, nor do I know the Valentine to whom it
alludes. It was by your advice that I asked for a
confessor."
" That is to say, by my brother's advice, who, as
you know, Anita, placed me here, not merely because
I love you as a sister, but also to support and en¬
courage you."
" And I am grateful both to you and him for it,
dear Helena; if I had not you near me, in spite of the
friendship our worthy and kind mother condescends
to grant me, I should long ago have succumbed to my
grief."
" The question is not about me at this moment,
my darling, but solely about yourself. However ob¬
scure and mysterious my brother's recommendation
may be, I know him to be too earnest and too
truly kind for me to neglect it. Hence I cannot find
language strong enough to urge you to prudence."
" I seek in vain to guess what the news is to
whieh he refers ; and I acknowledge that I feel a
secret repugnance to see the confessor he announces
to me. Alas ! I have everything to fear, and nothing
to hope now."
" Silence," Doña Helena said, quietly. " I hear
the sound of footsteps in the walk leading to this
arbour. Some one is coming. So we must not let
ourselves be surprised."
" In fact, almost at the same moment the lay sister,
^ho had already informed the Mother Superior of the
THE CONFESSOB.
181
arnval of Don Serapio de la Bonda, appeared at the
entrance of the arhour.
" Señorita," she said, addressing Doña Helena,
" our holy mother abbess wishes to speak to you as
well as to Doña Anita without delay. She is waiting
for you in her private cell in the company of a holy
Brancisean monk."
The maidens exchanged a glance, and a transient
ñush appeared on Doña Anita's pale cheeks.
" We will follow you, sister," Doña Helena replied.
The maidens rose; Doña Helena passed her arm
through her companion's, and stooping down, whis¬
pered in her ear—
" Courage, Querida."
They followed the lay sister, who led them to the
Mother Superior's cell, and discreetly withdrew on
reaching the door. The abbess appeared to be talking
rather excitedly with the Franciscan monk ; but, on
seeing the two girls, she ceased speaking, and rose.
" Come, my child," she said, as she held out her
arms to Doña Anita, " come and thank God who in his
infinite goodness has deigned to perform a miracle on
your behalf."
The maiden stopped through involuntary emotion,
and looked wildly around her. At a sign from the
abbess the monk rose, and throwing back his hood at
the same time as he fell on his knees before the
maiden, he said to her in a voice faltering with
emotion—
" Anita, do you recognize me ?!'
182
TUE BED TEACK.
At the sound of this voice, whose sympathetic
notes made all the fibres of her heart vibrate, the
maiden suddenly drew herself hack, tottered and fell
into the arms of Doña Helena, as she shrieked with an
accent impossible to describe—
" Martial ! oh, Martial !"
A sob hurst from her overcharged bosom, and she
burst into tears. She was saved, since the immense
joy she so suddenly experienced had noi killed her.
The Tigrero, as weak as the woman he loved, could_only
find tears to express all his feelings.
For some minutes the abbess and Doña Helena
trembled lest these two beings, already so tried by
misfortune, would not find within themselves the
necessary strength to resist so terrible an emotion;
but a powerful re-action suddenly took place in the
tiger-slayer's mind; he sprang up at one leap, and
seized in his arms the maiden, who, on her side, was
making efforts to rush to him—
" Anita, dear Anita," he cried, " I have found you
ftgain at last ; oh, now no human power will be able to
separate us !"
"Never, never!" she murmured, as she let her
head fall on the young man's shoulder ; " Martial, my
beloved Martial, protect me, save me !"
"Oh, yes, I will save you; angel of my life," he
exclaimed, looking up defiantly to heaven ; " we will
be united, I swear it to you."
"Is that the prudence you promised me?" the
abbess said, interposing; "remember the perils of every
IHB COKFESSOB.
183
'description that surround you, and the implacable foes
who have sworn your destruction; lock up in your
heart these feelings which, if revealed before one of
the countless spies who watch you, would cause your
death and that, perhaps, of the poor girl you love."
" Thank you, madam," the Tigrero replied ; " thank
you for having reminded me of the part I must play
for a few days longer. KI forgot it for a few seconds,
subdued by the passion that devours my heart, I will
henceforth adhere to it carefully. Do not fear lest I
should imperil the happiness that is preparing for me ;
no, I will restrain my feelings, and let myself be
guided by the counsel of the sincere friends to whom
I owe the moments of ineffable happiness I am now
enjoying." ,
"Oh! I now understand," Doña Anita exclaimed,
"the mysterious hints given me. Alas! misfortune
made me suspicious ; so forgive me, heaven, forgive me,
holy mother, and you too, Helena, my kind and faithfiil
friend. I did not dare hope, and feared a snare."
"I forgive you, my poor child," the abbess
answered ; " who could blame you ?" ,
Doña Helena pressed her friend to her heart
without saying a word.
j " Oh, now our misfortunes are at an end, Anita,"
the Tigrero exclaimed passionately ; " we have friends
who will not abandon us in the supreme struggle we
are engaging in with our common enemy. God, who
has hitherto done everything for us, will not leave his
work incomplete ; have faith in Him, my beloved."
XnE BED IBACE.
"Martial," the maiden replied, with a firmness
that astonished her hearers, " I was weak because I
was alone, but now that I know you live, and are near
me to support me, oh ! if I were to fall dead at the
feet of my persecutor, I would not be false to the
oath I took to be yours alone. Believing you dead, I
remained faithful to your memory ; but now, if perse¬
cution assailed me, I should find the strength to
endure it."
This scene would have been prolonged, but pru¬
dence urged that the abbess should break it off as
sojn as possible. Doña Anita, rendered strong
merely by the nervous excitement which possessed her,
soon felt faint; she could scarcely stand, and Don
Martial himself felt his energy abandoning him.
The separation was painful between these two
beings so iiiiiaculously re-united when they never
expected to see each other again ; but it was soothed
by the hope of soon meeting again under the protec¬
tion of the Mother Superior, who had done so much for
them, and whose inexhaustible kindness they had
entirely gained for their cause.
Por the first time since she had entered the
convent. Doña Anita smiled through her tears, as she
offered up to heaven her nightly prayers. Don
Martial went off rapidly to tell Valentine of what had
taken place at this interview, which he; had so long
desired. Doña Helena, however, retired pensively to
her cell ; the maiden was dreaming—of what ?
No one could have said, and probably she herself
TEE BEGIHEIEa OF TEE STBEOOLE. 185
was ignorant ; but, for some days past, an obtrusive
thought unnecessarily occupied her mind, and con¬
stantly troubled the calm mirror in which her virgin
thoughts were reflected.
• CHAPTEE XVII.
TEE BEGINNING OF TEE STEUGGIE.
Ambition is the most terrible and deceptions of all
human passions, in the sense that it completely dries
up the heart, and can never be satisfied.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero was not one of
those coldly cruel men, solely governed by the in¬
stinct of art, or whom the smell of blood intoxicates ;
but, with the implacable logic of ambitious persons,
he went direct to his object, overthrowing, without
regret or remorse, all the obstacles that barred l!is
way to the object he had sworn to reach, even if he
were compelled to wade in blood up to his knees, and
trample on a pile of corpses. He only regarded men
as pawns in the great game of chess he was playing,
and strove to justify himself, and stifle the warnings
of his terrified conscience, by the barbarous axiom
employed by the ambitious in all ages and all coun-
ti'ies, that the end justifies the means.
His secret ambition, which, on a day of pretended
frankness, he had partly revealed in an interview with
the Count de Prébois Graneé at Hermosillo, was not
to render himself independent, but simply to be
186
THB BED TBACB.
elected, by means of a well-arranged pronunciamiento,
President of the Mexican Eepublic.
It was not through hatred that General Guerrero
was so obstinately bent on destroying the count.
I Ambitious men, who are ever ready to sacrifice their
feelings to the interests of their gloomy machinations,
know neither hatred nor friendship. Hence we must
seek elsewhere the cause of the judicial murder of
the coimt which was so implacably carried out. The
general feared the count, as an adversary who would
constantly thwart him in Sonora, where the first
meshes of the net he wished to throw over Mexico
were spun—an adversary ready to oppose the execu¬
tion of his plans by claiming the due performance of
the articles of partnership—^a performance which, in
the probable event of an insurrection excited by the
general, would have become impossible, by plunging
the country for a lengthened period into a state of
crisis and general suspension of trade, which would
have been most hostile to the success of the lofty con¬
ceptions of the noble Prench adventurer.*
But the count had scarce fallen on the beach of
Guaymas ere the general recognized the falseness of
his calculations, and the fault he had committed in
sacrificing him. In fact, leaving out of the question
the death of his daughter, the only being for whom
he retained in some corner of his heart a little of that
fire which heaven illumes in all parents for their chil¬
dren, he found that he had exchanged a loyal and
• See " Goldseekers." Same publishers.
THE BEGINinirG OF THE STEUGGLE. 187
caGtious adversary for an obstinate enemy—the more
formidable because, caring for nothing, and having
no personal ambition, he would sacrifice everything
without hesitation or calculation in behalf of the ven¬
geance which he had solemnly vowed to obtain by any
means, over the still quivering body of his friend.
This implacable enemy, whom neither seduction
nor intimidation could arrest or even draw back, was
Valentine GuiUois.
Under these circumstances, th4 general com¬
mitted a graver fault than his first one—a fault which
was fated to have incalculable consequences for him.
Being very imperfectly acquainted with Valentine
Guilléis, unaware of his infiexible energy of wiU, and
ranking him in his mind with those wood-rangers, the
jPariahs of civilization, who have only courage to fire,
in a moment of despair, a shot from behind a tree,
but whose infiuence was after all insignificant, he
despised him.
Valentine was careful not to dissipate, by any im¬
prudent step, his enemy's mistake, or even arouse his
suspicions.
At the time of the Count de Prébois Crancé's first
expedition, when aU seemed to smile on him, and his
followers already saw the complete success of their
bold undertaking close at hand, Valentine had been
entrusted by his friend with various important opera¬
tions and difficult missions to the rich rancheros and
hacienderos of the province. Valentine had per¬
formed the duties his fnend confided to him with his
188
TEE BEE TBACK.
usual loyalty and uprightness of mind, and had been
so thoroughly appreciated by the persons with whom
chance had brought him into connection, that all had
remained on friendly terms with him and giveû him
unequivocal proofs of the sinceresi friendship, espe¬
cially upon the death of the count.
It only depended on the hunter's will to be rich,
since he-knew an almost inexhaustible placer; and
what the wood-ranger would never have consented to
for himself, for the sake of paltry gain, he did not
hesitate to attempt in order to'avenge his friend.
Followed by Curumilla, Belhumeur, and Black Elk,
and leading a recua of ten mules, he did what two
hundred and fifty men could not have succeeded in
doing. He went through Apacheria, crossed the
fearful desert of sand in which the bones of the hap¬
less companions of the Marquis de Lhorailles were
bleaching, and, after enduring superhuman fatigue and
braving terrible dangers, he at length reached the
placer. But this time he did not come to take an in¬
significant sum; he wanted to collect a fortune at
one stroke.
The himter returned with his ten mules laden
with gold. He knew that he was beginning a struggle
with a man who was enormously rich, and wished to
conquer him with his own weapons. In the new
world, as in the old, money is the real sinew of war,
and Valentine would not imperil the success of his
vengeance.
On returning to Guaymas, he realized his fortune,
THE BEGINNING OF THE STBUGGLE. 189
and found himself, in a single day, not one of the
richest, but the richest private person in Mexico, al¬
though it is a country in which fortunes attain to a
considerable amount. Thus the gold of the placer,
which, at an earlier period, had served to organize the
count's expedition, and make him believe for a mo¬
ment in the realization of his dreams, was about to
serve in avenging him, after having indirectly caused
his death.
Then began between the general and the hunter
a secret and unceasing struggle, the more terrible
through its hidden nature ; and the general, struck
without knowing whence the blows dealt his ambi¬
tion came, struggled vainly, like a lion caught in a
snare, while it was impossible for him to discover the
obstinate enemy who hunted him down.
This man, who had hitherto succeeded in every¬
thing—^who, during the course of his long and stormy
political career, had surmounted the greatest obstacles
and forced his very detractors to admire the luck that
constantly accompanied his wildest and rashest con¬
ceptions—suddenly saw Fortune turn her back on
him with such rapidity—we may even say brutality—
that, scarce six weeks after the execution of the
count, he was obliged to resign his office of Military
Governor, and quit, almost like a fugitive, the pro¬
vince of Sonora, where he had so long reigned as a
master, and on which his iron yoke had pressed so
heavily.
This first blow, dealt the general in the midst of
190
THE BED TEACK.
his ambitious aspirations, when he had only just
began to recover from the grief his daughter's death
had caused him, was the more terrible because he
did not know to whom he should attribute his
downfall.
Still, he did not long remain in doubt. An hour
before his departure from Hermosillo he received a
letter in which he was informed, in the minutest de¬
tails, of the oath of vengeance taken against him,
and of the steps taken to obtain his recal. This letter
was signed " Valentine Guillois." The himter, de¬
spising darkness and mystery, tore down the veil that
covered him, and openly challenged his foe by man¬
fully telling him to be on his guard.
On receiving this threatening declaration of war,
the general fell into an extraordinary passion, the
more terrible because it was impotent, and then,
when his mind became calm again, and he began
reflecting, he felt frightened. In truth, the man who
stood so boldly before him as an enemy, must be very
powerful and certain of success thus to dare and defy
him.
His departure from Sonora was. a disgraceful
flight, in which he tried, by craft and caution, to
throw out his enemy ; but the meeting at the Fort of
the Chichimèques, a meeting long prepared by the
hunter, proved to him that he was unmasked once
again, and conquered by his enemy.
The contemptuous manner in which Yalí3ntino
dismissed him after his stormy explanation with, him,
THE BEGINNIKO OF THE BTEHGGLE. 191
had internally filled the general with terror. What
sinister projects could the man he meditating, what
private vengeance was he arranging, that, when he
held him quivering in his grasp, he allowed his foe to
escape, and refused to kill him, when that would have
been so easy ? what torture more terrible than death
did he intend to inflict on him ?
The remainder of his journey across the Eocky
Mountains, as far as Mexico, was one protracted
agony, during which, sufiering from constant appre¬
hension, ai^d extreme nervous excitement, his diseased
imagination inflicted on him moral torture in the
stead of which any physical pain would have been
welcome.
The loss of his daughter's corpse, and above all, the
death of his father's old comrade in arms, the only
man in whom he put faith, and who possessed his
entire confidence, destroyed his energy, and for several
days he was so overwhelmed by this double misfor,-
tune, that he longed for death.
His punishment was beginning. But General
Guerrero was one of those powerful athletes who do
not allow themselves to be overcome so easily ; they
may totter in the struggle, and roll on the sand of
the arena, but they always rise again more terrible
and menacing than before. His revolted pride re¬
stored his expiring courage ; and since an implacable
warfare was declared against him, he swore that he
would fight to the end, whatever the consequences for
him might be.
192
THE BED TEACH.
Moreover, two montlis had elapsed since his arrival
in Mexico, and his enemy had not revealed his pre¬
sence by one of those terrible blows which burst like
a clap of thunder above his head. The general gradu¬
ally began supposing that the hunter had only wished
to fôrce him to abandon Sonora, and that, in despair
of carrying out his plans advantageously in' a city like
Mexico, he was prudently keeping aloof, and if he
had not completely renounced his vengeance, circum¬
stances at any rate, independent of his will, compelled
him to defer it.
The general, so soon as he was settled in the
capital of Mexico, organized a large band of highly-
paid spies, who had orders to be constantly on the
watch, and inform him of Valentine's arrival in the
city. Thus reassured by the reports of his agents,
he continued with feverish ardour the execution of
his dark designs, for he felt convinced that if he suc¬
ceeded in attaining his coveted object, the hatred of
the man who pursued him would no longer be danger¬
ous. This was the more probable, because, so soon as
he held the power in his own hands, he would easily
succeed in getting rid of an enemy, whom his position
as a foreigner isolated, and rendered an object of dis¬
like to the populace.
The general lived in a large house in the Calle de
Tacuba; it was built by one of his ancestors, and
considered one of the handsomest in the capital. We
will describe in a few words the architecture of
Mexico, for, as all the houses are built on the same
THE BEGIHNING OF THE STETTGGLE. 193
pattern, or nearly so, by knowing one it is easy to
form an idea of what the others must be.
The Mexican architecture greatly resembles the
Arabic, and as for the mode of arranging the rooms,
it is still entirely in its infancy ; but, since the Procla¬
mation of the Independence, foreign architects have
succeeded, in most of the great towns, in opening side
doors in the suites of rooms, which formerly only
communicated with one another, and hence compelled
you to go through a bed-room to enter a dining-room,
or pass through a kitchen to reach the drawing-room.
The general's house was composed of four build¬
ings, two stories in height, and with terraced roofs.
Two courts separated these buildings, and an awning
stretched over the four sides of the first yard, enabling
visitors to reach the wide stone steps dry-footed. At
the top of this flight, a handsome covered gallery,
àdorned with vases of flowers and exotic shrubs, led
to a vast anteroom, whicl^ opened into a splendid re¬
ception hall ; after this came a considerable number of
apartments, splendidly furnished in the European style.
The general only inhabited the first floor of his
mansion. Although most of the streets are paved at
the present day, and the canals have entirely disap¬
peared, except in the lower districts of the city, water
is still found a few inches beneath the surface, which
produces such damp, that the ground floor, rendered
uninhabitable, is given up to stores and shops in nearly
all the houses. The groimd floor of the main bxiild-
ing, looking on the Calle de Tacuba, was, therefore,
o
191
THE BED TEACK.
occupied by brilliant stops, whicb rendered the façade
I of the general's house even more striking.
The paintings and the ornaments carved on the
walls, after the Spanish fashion, gave it a peculiar,
but not unpleasant appearance, which was completed
by the profusion of shrubs that lined the terrace, and
converted it into a hanging garden, like those of
Babylon, some sixty feet above the ground. By-the-
bye, these gardens, from which the cupolas of the
churches seem to emerge, give a really fairy-like aspect
to the city, when you survey it in a glowing sunset,
from the cathedral towers.
Seven or' eight days had elapsed since the events
we recorded in our last chapter. General Guerrero,
after a long conversation with Colonel Don Jaime
Lupo, Don Sirven, and two or three others of his most
faithful partizans—a conversation in which the final
arrangements were made for the prontmciamiento
which was to be attempted immediately—^gave audi¬
ence to two of his spies, who assured him that the
person, whose movements they were ordered to watch,
had not yet arrived in Mexico.
When the hour for going to the theatre arrived,
the general, temporarily freed from alarm, prepared
to be present at an extraordinary performance to be
given, that same night, at the Santa Anna theatre ; but
at the moment when he was about to give orders for
his carriage to be brought up, the door of the room, in
which he was sitting, opened, and a footman appeared
on the threshold, with a respectfiü bow.
THE BEGINNING OE THE STEUGGIE. 195
" What do you vrant ?" the general asked, turning
round at the sound.
" Excellency," the valet replied, " a caballero de¬
sires a few minutes' conversation with your excel¬
lency."
"At this hour?" the general said, looking at a
clock, " it is impossible but, suddenly reflecting, he
asked, " any one you know, Isidro ?"
" No, excellency ; it is a caballero whom I have
not yet had the honour of seeing in the house."
" Hum," said the general, shaking his head
thoughtfully, " is he a gentleman ?"
"That I can assure your excellency; and he told
me that he had a most important communication to
make to you."
In the general's present position, as head of a con¬
spiracy on the point of breaking out, no detail must
be neglected, no communication despised, so, after re¬
flecting a little, he continued—
"Tou ought to have told the gentleman that I
could not receive him so late, and that he had better
vaU again to-morrow."
" I told him so, excellency."
" And he insisted ?"
" Several times, excellency.''
*' Well, do you know his name, at least ?"
" When I asked the caballero for it, he said it was
useless, as you would not know it ; but if you wwhed
to learn it, he would himself tell it to your excellency."
" What a strange person," the general muttered
196
the sed tbace.
to himself ; " very good," he then added aloud, " lead
the gentleman to the small mirror room, and I will
be with him immediately."
The footman bowed respectfully.
" Who can the man be, and what is the important
matter he has to tell me P" the general muttered, as
he was alone. "Hum, probably some poor devil
mixed up in our conspiracy, who wants a little money.
Well, he had better be careful, for I am not the man
to be plundered with impunity, and so he will find
out, if his communication is not serious."
And, throwing on to a chair the plumed hat he
held in his band, he proceeded to the mirror room.
CHAPTEE XVm.
a visit.
The mirror room was an immense apartment, only
separated from the covered gallery by two anterooms.
It was furnished with princely luxury, and it was
here that the general gave those sumptuous tertulias,
which are still talked about in the highest Mexican
circles, although so many years have elapsed.
This room, merely lighted by two lamps, standing
on a console, was at this moment plunged into a semi-
obscurity, when compared with the other apartments
in the mansion, which were full of light.
A gentleman, dressed in full black, and with the
red ribbon of the Legion of Honour carelessly knotted
A VISIT.
197
in a button-hole of his coat, was leaning his elbow on
the console where the lamps stood, and seemed so lost
in thought, that, when the general entered the room,
the sound of his steps, half subdued by the petates,
did not reach the visitor's ears, and he did not turn to
receive him.
Don Sebastian, after closing the door behind him,
walked towards his visitor, attempting to recognize
him, which, however, the stranger's position rendered
temporarily impossible. It was not tiU he came
almost near enough to touch him that the stranger,
at length warned of the general's presence, raised his
head; in spite of all the command Don Sebastian
had over himself, he started and fell back a couple of
yards on recognizing him.
" Don Valentine !" he said, in a stifled voice, "you
here?"
" Myself, general," he replied, with an almost im¬
perceptible smile and a profound bow ; " did you not
expect a visit from me ?"
The Trail-hunter, according to his habit, at once
assumed his position before his adversary. A bitter
smile played round the general's pale lips, and master¬
ing his emotion, he replied, sarcastically—
" Certainly, caballero, I hoped to receive a visit
from you ; but not here, and under such conditions,
I did not venture, I confess, to anticipate such an
honour."
" I am delighted," he replied, with another bow,
"that.I have thus anticipated your wishes."
108
TnB »ED TEACK.
" I will prove to you, señor," the general said,
with set teeth, " the value I attach to the visit you
halve been pleased to pay me."
"While saying this, he stretched out his arm towards
a bell.
"I beg your pardon, general," the Frenchman
said, with imperturbable coolness, "but I believe
that you intend to summon some of your people ?"
" And supposing that was my intention, señor ?"
the general said, haughtily.
" If it were so," he replied, with icy politeness, " I
think it would be better for you to do nothing of the
sort."
" Oh, indeed, and for what reason, may I ask ?"
" For the simple reason, general, that as I have
the honour to know you thoroughly, I was not such a
fool as to place myself in your power. My carriage
is waiting at this moment in front of your door ; in
that carriage are two of my friends, and, in all pro¬
bability, if they do not see me come down the steps '
again in half an hour, they will not hesitate to ask
you what has taken place between us, and what has
become of me."
The general bit his lips.
" Ton are mistaken as to my intentions, señor,"
he said. " I fear you no more than you appear to do
me. I am a gentleman, and were you ten times more
my enemy than you are, I would never attempt to
free myself from you by an assassination."
" Be it so, general ; I should be glad to be mistaken,
A TISIT.
190
and in that case I beg you to accept my apologies ;
moreover, in coming thus to see you, I give you, I
believe, a proof of confidence."
" Fop which I thank you, señor ; but as I suppose
that reasons of the highest gravity alone induced you
to present yourself here, and the interview you ask of
me must be long, I wished to give my people orders
to take out the horses, and take care that we are not
interrupted."
Valentine bowed without replying, but with an
imperceptible smile, and leaning again on the console,
he twisted his long, fair, light moustache while the
general rang the bell. A servant came in.
" Have the horses taken out," the general said,
" and I am not at home to anybody."
The servant bowed, and prepared to leave the room.
" Ah !" said the general, suddenly stopping him,
" on the part of this caballero ask the gentlemen in
his carriage to do me the honour of coming up to my
apartments, where they can await more comfortably
the end of a conversation which will probably be
rather prolonged. You will serve refreshments to
these gentlemen in the blue room," he added, looking
fixedly at the Frenchman, " the one that follows this
room."
The servant retired.
" If you still apprehend a trap, señor," he conti¬
nued, turning to the Frenchman, " your friends will
be at hand, if necessary, to come to your help."
" I knew that you were brave to rashness, general," •
200
THE BED TBACH.
the frenchman answered politely, " and I am happy
to see that you are no less honourable."
" And now, señor, he kind enough to sit down,"
Don Sebastian said, pointing to a chair. "May I
Tenture to offer you any refreshments ?"
" General," Valentine answered, as he seated him¬
self, "permit me, for the present, to decline them. In
my youth I served in Africa, and in that country
people are only wont to break their fast with friends.
As we are, temporarily at least, enemies, I must ask
you to let me retain my present position toward you."
" The custom to which you allude, señor, is also
met with on our prairies," the general replied ; " still
people sometimes depart from it. However, act as
you think proper. I wait till it may please you to
explain the purpose of this visit, at which I have a
right to feel surprised."
" I win not abuse your patience any longer, gene¬
ral," he replied with a bow. " I have merely come to
propose a bargain."
" A bargain ?" Don Sebastian exclaimed with sur¬
prise, " I do not imderstand you."
"I will have the honour of explaining myself,
señor."
The general bowed and said, "I await your
pleasure."
" You are a diplomatist, general," Valentine con¬
tinued, "and in that capacity are, doubtless, aware
that a bad .treaty is better than a good war."
" In certain cases I allow it is so ; but I will take
A nSIT.
201
the liberty of remarking that, under present circum¬
stances, señor, I must await your propositions, instead
of offering any of mine> as the war, to employ your
own expression, was not begun by me, but by you,"
" I think it will be better not to discuss that point,
in which we should find it difficult to agree ; still, in
order to remove any ambiguity, and lay down the
point at issue distinctly, I will remind you in a few
words of the motives which produced the hatred that
divides us."
" Those motives, señor, you have already explained
to me most fully at the Fort of the Chichimèques.
"Without discussing their validity with you, I will
content myself with saying that hatred, like friend¬
ship, being a matter of sympathy, and not the result
of reason, it is better to confess frankly that we hate
or love each other, without trying to account for
either of these feelings, which I consider completely
beyond the will."
"Tou are at liberty to think so, señor, and
though I do not agree with you, I will not discuss the
point ; it is, however, certain that the hatred we bear
each other is implacable, and cannot possibly be ex¬
tinguished."
" StiU you spoke only a minute back of a bargain."
" Certainly ; but bargaining is not forgetting. I
can, for certain reasons, abstain from that hatred
without renouncing it; and though I may cease to in¬
jure you, I do not, on that account, contract the
slightest friendship with you."
202
THE BED TBACE.
" I admit that in principle, señor ; let us, there¬
fore, come to facts without further delay ; be good
enough to explain to me the nature of the bargain
which you think proper to propose to me to-day."
" Allow me, in the first place, according to my
notions of honour, to explain to you what our position
to each other is."
" Since the beginning of this interview, señor, I
must confess that you have been talking enigmas inex¬
plicable to me."
" I will try to be clear, señor, and if I tell you
what your plans are, and the means you have em- •
ployed for their realization, you wül understand, I
have no doubt, that I have succeeded in countermining
them sufficiently to prevent a favourable issue."
" Go on, señor," the general remarked, with ^
smile.
" In two words, this is your position. In the first,
you wish, by a pronunciamiento, to overthrow General
K , and have yourself proclaimed President of the
Eepublic in his place."
" Ah, ah," said the general, with a forced laugh ;
" you must know, señor, that in our blessed country
this ambition is constantly attributed to aU officers
who, either on account of their fortune or personal
merit, hold a public position. This accusation, there¬
fore, is not very serious."
" It would not be so, if you limited yourself to
mere wishes, possibly legitimate in the present state of
the country; but, unfortunately, it is not so."
/A TISIT.
203
" Whab do you mean ?"
" I mean, general, that you are the head of a con¬
spiracy ; that this conspiracy, several times already a
failure in Sonora, you have renewed in Mexico, under
almost infallible conditions of success, and which, in
my opinion, would succeed, had I not resolved on
causing them to fail. I mean thàt, only a few days
ago» your conspirators assembled in a velorio kept by
a certain No Lusacho. Through the agency of Don
Jaime Lupo, you divided among them two bags of
gold, brought by you for them, and emptied in your
presence. I mean that, after this distribution, the
final arrangements were made, and the day was almost
fixed for the pronunciamiento. Am I deceived,
general, or do you now see that I am well in¬
formed, and that my spies are quite equal to yours,
who were not even able, to inform you of my ar¬
rival at the Ciudad, where I have been for more
than a week, and you have not known a word about
it?"
"While Valentine was speaking thus, in his mock¬
ing way, with his elbow carelessly laid on the arm
of his chair, and his body slightly bent forward, the
general was in a state of passion which he tried in
vain to repress, his pale face assumed a cadaverous
hue, his eyebrows met, and his clenched teeth found
difdculty in keeping the words back which tried each
moment to burst forth. When the Frenchman ceased
speaking he made a violent effort to check his rage
which was on the point of breaking out, and he an-
204
THE BED TEAOK
swered in a hollow voice which emotion caused învo.
luntary to tremble—
" I will imitate your frankness, señor. Of what
use would it he to dissimulate with an enemy so well
informed as you pretend to be ? What you have said
about a conspiracy is perfectly correct. Yes, I intend
to make a pronunciamiento, and that shortly. Tou
see that I do not attempt to conceal anything from
you."
"I presume, because you consider it useless,"
Valentine answered sarcastically.
"Perhaps so, señor. Although you are so well
informed, you do not know everything."
" Do you think so ?"
" I am sure of it."
" What is the thing I am ignorant of?"
" That you will not leave this house again, and
that I am going to blow out your brains," the general
exclaimed, as he started up and cocked a piftol.
The Prenchman did not make the slightest move¬
ment to prevent the execution of the general's threat ;
he contented himself with looking firmly at him, and
saying, coldly—
" I defy you."
Don Sebastian remained motionless, with haggard
eye, pale brow, and trembling hand ; then, in a few se¬
conds, he uncocked the pistol, and fell back utterly
crushed in his chair.
" You have gone too far or not far enough, cabal¬
lero," Valentine went on with perfect calmness.
A VISIT.
205
" Every threat should he executed at all risks so soon
as it is made. You have reflected, so let us say no
more about it, hut resume our conversation."
In a discussion of this nature, all the advantage is
on the side of the adversary viho retains his coolness.
The general, ashamed of the passionate impulse to
which he had yielded, and crushed by his enemy's
sarcastically contemptuous answer, remained dumb ;
he at length understood that, with a man like the one
before him, any contest must turn to his disadvan¬
tage, unless he employed treachery, which his pride
forbade.
" Let us, for the present," Valentine went on, still
calmly and coldly, " leave this conspiracy, to which we
will revert presently, and pass to a no less interesting
subject. If I am correctly informed, Señor Don
Sebastian, you have a ward of the name of Doña
Anita de Torres ?"
The general started, but remained silent.
" Now," continued Valentine, " in consequence of
a frightful catastrophe, this young lady became insane.
But that does not prevent you from insisting on mar¬
rying her, in contempt of all law, divine and human,
for the simple reason that she is enormously rich and
you require her fortune for the execution of your am¬
bitious plans. It is true that the young lady does
not love you, and never did love you; it is also
true that her father intended her for another, and
that other you insist on declaring to be dead, although
he is alive ; but what do you care for that ? TJnfor-
206
THE EEO TEACH.
tuoately, one of my intimate friends, of whom you
probably never heard, Señor Don Serapio de la
Eonda, has heard this affair alluded to. I will
tell you confidentally that Don Serapio is greatly
respected by certain parties, and has very considerable
power. Don Serapio, I know not why, takes an inte¬
rest in Doña Anita, and has made up his mind, whe¬
ther you like it or not, to marry her to the man she
loves, and for whom her father intended her."
"The villain is dead," the general exclaimeá,
furiously.
" You are perfectly well aware of the contrary,"
Señor Valentine answered, " and to remove any douhts
you may still happen to have, I will give you the
proof. Don Martial," he said aloud, " come in, pray,
and tell Qteneral Guerrero yourself that you are not
dead."
" Oh !" the general muttered furiously, " this man
is a demon."
At this moment the door opened, and a new per¬
sonage entered the room.
CBAPTER XIX.
assistance.
The man who now entered the hall of mirrors was
dressed like the riders who promenade at the Bu-
carelli, and gaUop at carriage doors—that is to say,
in trousers with silk stripes down the sides, and a
ASSISTANCE.
207
broad-brimmed bat decorated witb a double cold
string and tassels.
He walked graceftdly up to Don Sebastian, still
holding his hat in his right hand, bowed to him with
that exquisite grace of which the Mexicans alone
seem to have the privilege, and thrusting his hand
into his side, he said, with an accent of cutting
sarcasm, and in a harsh, metallic voice—
"Do you reeognize me, Don Sebastian, and do
you believe that I am really alive, and that it is not
the ghost of Martial the Tigrero which has come from
the grave to address you ?"
At the same moment Belhumeur's clever, know¬
ing face could be seen peering through the doorway.
With his eyes obstinately fixed on the general, he •
seemed to be impatiently expecting an answer, which
the latter, struggling vrith several different feelings,
evidently hesitated to give. Still, he was compelled
to form a resolution, so he rose and looked the
Tigrero boldly in the face.
" Who are you, señor ?" he said, in a firm voice,
" and by what right do you question me ?"
"Well played," said Valentine, with a laugh; "by
heaven, caballero, it is a pleasure to contend with
you, for, on my soul, you are a rude adversary."
" Do yon think so ?" Don Sebastian asked, with a
hoarse laugh.
"Certainly," the hunter continued, "and I am
delighted to bear my testimony to the fact; heneo
you had better yield at once, for you are in a di-
208
THE BED TBACE.
lemma from wLlch you cannot escape, not even by a
master stroke."
There was a silence, lasting some minutes. At
length the general seemed to make up his mind, for
he turned to Belhumeur, who was still listening,
and bowed to him with ironical politeness.
" Why stand half hidden by that door ?" he said
to him ; " pray enter, caballero, for your presence here
will be most agreeable to the whole company."
The Canadian at once entered, and after giving
the general a respectful bow he leant over the back
of Valentine's chair. The latter eagerly followed all
the incidents of the strange scene that was being
played before him, and in which he appeared to be a
disinterested spectator rather than an actor.
" Ton see, señores," the general said, haughtily,
" that I imitate your example, and, like you, play
fairly. I believe that you entered my house in order
to propose a bargain to me, Don Valentine ? You,
señor," he said, turning to the Tigrero, "whom I
told that I did not recognize, and whom I have
the honour of receiving at my house for the first
time, have doubtless come as witness for these
caballeros, who are your friends. Well, gentlemen,'
you shall all three be satisfied. I am awaiting your
proposal, Don Valentine. I allow, señor, that you,
whose miraculous resuscitation I have hitherto denied,
are alive, and are really Don Martial the ex-lover of
Doña Anita de Torres. As for you, señor, whom I
do not know, I authorize you to declare before any
ASSISTANCE.
209
one you like the truth of the words I utter. Are you
all three satisfied, gentlemen? Is there anything
else I can do to affoi-d you pleasure ?—^if so, speak,
and I am ready to satisfy you."
" A man could not yield to what is inevitable with
better grace," Valentine replied, bowing ironically.
" Thanks for your approval, caballero, and be kind
enough to let me know, without further delay, the
conditions on which you are willing to leave off pur¬
suing me with that terrible hatred with which you
incessantly threaten me, and whose result is rather
long in coming, according to my judgment."
These words were uttered with a mixture of pride
and contempt impossible to express, and which for a
moment rendered Valentine dumb, so extraordinary
did the sudden change in his adversary's humour
appear to him.
" I am waiting," the general added, as he fell back
in his chair, with an air of weariness.
"We will bring matters to an end," Valentine
said, drawing himself up with an air of resolution.
"That is what I wish," the general interrupted
him, as he lit a cigarette, which he began smoking
with the most profound coolness.
" These are my conditions," the hunter said dis¬
tinctly and harshly, for he was annoyed by this frigid
indifference. "You will at once leave Mexico, and
give up Doña Anita, to whom you will not only re¬
store her liberty, but also the right of giving her
lhand and fortune to whomsoever she pleases. You
P
210
TOE BED T3ACK.
will sell yottr estates, and retire to the United States,
promising on oath never to return to Mexico. On
my side, I pledge myself to restore yon your daughter's
body, and never attempt to injure you in any way."
" Have you anything more to add ?" the general
asked, as he coolly watched the blue smoke of his
cigarette as it rose in circles to the ceiling.
" Notlung ; but take care, señor, I too have taken
an oath, and from what I have told you, you must
have seen how far I have detected your secrets. Ac¬
cept or refuse, but come to a decision ; for this is
the last time we shall meet face to face under the
like conditions. The game we are playing is a ter¬
rible one, and must end in the death of one of us ;
and I shall show you no pity, as, doubtless, you will
show me none. Reflect seriously before answering
yes or no, and I give you half an hour to decide,"
The general hurst into a sharp and nervous laugh.
" Viva Dios, caballero !" he exclaimed, with a con¬
temptuous toss of his head, " I have listened to you
with extreme surprise. Tou dispose of my will with
an incomparable facility. I do not know who gives
you the right to speak and act as you are doing ; but, ''
by heaven, hatred, however active it may be, can in no
case possess this privilege. You fancy yourself much
more powerful than you really are, I fancy ; but, at
any rate, whatever may happen, bear this carefully in
mind—I will not retreat an inch before you. Accept¬
ing your impudent and ridiculous conditions would
be to cover myself with shame and my utter ruin.
ASSTÍ3TANCE.
211
Were you the genius of Evil clothed in mortal form, I
would not the less persist in the track I have laid
down for myself, and in which I will persevere at my
own risk and peril ; however terrible may he the obsta¬
cles you raise, I will overthrow them or succumb
bravely, buried beneath the ruins of my abortive plans
and my destroyed fortunes. Hence consider yourself
warned, Don Valentine; that I despise your menaces,
and they will not stop me. And you, Don Martial,
since such is your name, that I shall marry my ward,
in spite of the efforts you may make to prevent me,
and shall do so because I wish it, and hecaiise no man
in the world has ever attempted to resist my wiU
without being at once mercilessly crushed. And now,
señores, as we have said all we have to say to each
other, and I think there is no more, and we can have
no doubt as to our mutual intentions, permit me to
take leave of you, for I wish to go to the Santa Anna
theatre, and it is already very late."
He rang the bell, and a footman came in.
" Order the carriage," he said to him.
"Then," Valentine said as he rose, "it is war to
the death between us."
" War to the death ! be it so."
"We shall only meet once again, general," the
hunter remarked ; " and that wül be on the eve of your
death, when you are in Capilla."
" I accept the meeting, and will bow uncomplain¬
ingly before you if you are powerful enough to obtain
that result ; but, believe me, I am not there yet."
212
THE BED TEACK.
"You are nearer yourfallthanyou perhaps suppose."
" That is possible ; but enough of this ; any further
conversation will be useless. Light these gentlemen
down," he said to the servant, who at this moment
entered the room.
The three men rose, exchanged dumb bows with
the general, and, accompanied by him to the door of
the room, they followed the footman, who preceded
them with candles. Two carriages were waiting at
the foot of the stairs; Valentine and his friends got
into one of them, the general took his seat in the
other, and they beard him give the order in a firm
voice to drive to the Santa Anna theatre. The coach¬
men flogged their horses, which started at a gallop,
and the two carriages left the house, the gates of
which were closed after them.
The Santa Anna theatre was built in ISéi by the
Spanish architect. Hidalgo. This building has exter¬
nally nothing remarkable about it, either in regard to
frontage or position ; but we are glad to state that the
interior is convenient, elegant, and even grand.
After passing through the external portico, you
enter a yard covered with a glass dome, next come
wide stairs with low steps, large and lofty lobbies, a
double row of galleries looking on the front yard, and
airy crush-rooms for the promenaders.
The house is well-built, well decorated, and spa¬
cious ; it has three rows of boxes, with a lower circle
representing the pit boxes, and another above the
third circle for the lower classes. In the pit, it is
ASSISTANCE.
218
worth mentioning that each visitor has his stall,
which he reaches easy and comfortably by passages
formed down the centre and round the theatre. The
boxes nearly all contain ten persons, and are separated
from each other by light colonnades and partitions.
To each box is attached a room, to which people with¬
draw between the acts, and, instead of the balconies
which in our theatres conceal a great part of the
ladies' toilets, the boxes have only a ledge a few
inches in height, which allows the splendid dresses of
the audience to be fully admired.
"We have dwelt, perhaps with a little complacency,
on this description of the Santa Anna theatre, for we
thought that, at the moment when it is intended to re¬
build the Opera and other Parisian theatres, there
can be no harm in displaying the difference that
exists between the frightful dens in which the specta¬
tors are thrust together pell-mell every night in a city
like Paris, which claims to be the first, not only in
Europe, but in the whole world, and the spacious airy
theatres of a country like Mexico, which in so many
respects is inferior to us as regards ideas of civilization
and comfort. It would, however, be very easy, we
fancy, to obtain in Paris the advantageous results the
Mexicans have enjoyed for twenty years, and that at a
slight expense. Unfortunately, whatever may be said,
the French are the most thorough routine nation in
the world, and we greatly fear that, in spite of inces¬
sant protests, things will remain for a long time in the
same state as they are to-day.
214
THE EE® TEACK.
"When the general entered his box, which was in
the first circle, and almost facing the stage, the
house presented a truly fairydike appearance The
extraordinary performance had brought an immense
throng of spectators and ladies, whose magnificent
dresses were covered with diamonds, which glittered
and flashed beneath the light that played on them.
Don Sebastian, after bending forward for a moment
to exchange bows with his numerous acquaintances,
and prove his presence, withdrew to the back of the
box, opened his glasses, and began looking carelessly
about him. But though, through a powerful effort of
the will, his face was cold, calm, and unmoved, a ter¬
rible storm was raging in the general's heart.
The scene that had taken place a few minutes pre¬
viously at his mansion, had filled him with anxiety
and gloomy forebodings, for he understood that his
adversaries must either believe or feel themselves very
strong thus to dare and defy him to the face, and
audaciously enter his very house. In vain he tor¬
tured his mind to find means to get rid of his obsti¬
nate enemy ; but time pressed, his situation became
at each moment more critical, and unless some bold
and desperate stroke proved successful, he felt in¬
stinctively that he was lost withont chance of sal¬
vation.
The president's box was occupied by the first
magistrate of the Republic, and some of his aide-de¬
camps. Several times, Don Sebastian fancied that the
president's eyes were fixed on him with a strange ex-
ASSISTAXCB.
215
pression, after wnich lie bent over and whispered
some remarks to the gentlemen who accompanied
him. Perhaps, this was not real, and the general's
pricked conscience suggested to him suspicions far
from the thoughts of those against whom he had so
many reasons to be on his guard ; but whether real
or not, these suspicions tortured his heart and proved
to him the necessity of coming to an end at all
risks.
Still the performance went on ; the curtain had
just fallen before the last act, and the general, de¬
voured by anxiety, and persuaded that he had remained
long enough in the theatre to testify his presence,
was preparing to retire, when the door of his box
opened, and Colonel Lupo walked in.
. " Ah, is it you, colonel ?" Don Sebastian said to
him as he offered his hand and gave him a forced
smile. " You are welcome ; I did not hope any longer
to have the pleasure of seeing you, and I was just
going away."
" Pray do not let me stop you, general, I have
only a few words to say to you."
" Our bvfsiness ?"
" Goes on famously."
" No suspicion ?"
"Not the shadow."
The general breathed like a man from whose chest
a crushing weight has been just removed.
" Can I be of any service to you ?" he said, ab¬
sently.
216
IHK BED TBACE.
"For the present, I have only come for your
sake."
" How so ?"
" I was accosted to-day by a lepero, a viUain of
the worst sort, who says that he wishes to avenge
himself on a certain Frenchman, whom he declares
you know, and he desires to place himself under your
protection, in the event of the blade of his navaja
accidentally slipping into his enemy's body."
"Hum! that is serious," the general said with
an imperceptible start. " I do not know how far I
dare go in being bn'l for such a scoundrel."
" He declares that you have known him a long
time, and that while doing his own business, he will
be doing yours."
" Ton know that I am no admirer of navajadas,
for an assassination always injures the character of a
politician."
"That is true; but you cannot be rendered re¬
sponsible for the crimes any viUain may think proper
to commit."
" Did this worthy gentleman tell you his name ?"
my dear colonel ?"
" Yes ; but I believe that it would be better to
mention it in the open air, rather than in this place."
" One word more ; have you cleverly deceived him,
and do you think that he really intends to be useful
to us ?"
« Useful to you, you mean."
" As you please."
ASSISTANCE.
217
" I could almost assert it."
" Well, we will be off ; bave you weapons about
you ?"
" I should think so ; it would be madness to go
about Mexico unarmed."
" I have pistols in my pocket, so I will dismiss
my carriage, and we will walk home to my house ;
does that suit you, my dear colonel ?"
" Excellently, general, the more so because if you
evince any desire to see the scoundrel in question,
nothing will be easier than for me to take you to the
den he occupies, without attracting attention."
The general looked at his accomplice fixedly.
" You have not told me aU, colonel ?" he said.
"I have not, general, but I am convinced that
you understand the motive, which at this moment
keeps my mouth shut."
" In that case, let us be off."
He wrapped himself in his cloak and left the box,
followed by the colonel. A footman was waiting
under the portico for his orders to bring up the
carriage.
" Eeturn to the house," the general said ; " it is a
fine night, and I feel inclined for a walk."
The footman retired.
" Come, colonel," Don Sebastian went on.
They left the theatre and proceeded slowly toward
the Portales de Mercadores, which were entirely
deserted at this advanced hour of the night.
213
las BEB IBACK.
CHAPTER XX.
EL ZARAGATE.
The niglit was clear, mild and starry, a profoimd
calm prevailed in the deserted streets, and it was in
fact one of those delicions Mexican nights, so filled
with soft emanations, and which dispose the mind to.
delicions reveries.
The two gentlemen, carefully wrapped in their
cloaks, walked side by side, along the middle of the
street, in fear of an ambuscade, examining with prac¬
tised eyes the doorways and the dark comers of side
streets. When they were far enough from the
theatre no longer to fear indiscreet eyes or ears, the
general at length broke the silence.
" Now, Señor Don Jaime," he said, " let us speak
frankly, if you please."
" I wish for nothing better," the colonel replied,
with a bow.
" And to begin," Don Sebastian continued, " tell
me who the man is from whom you hinted that I
could derive some benefit."
"Nothing is easier, excellency. This man is a
villain of the worst sort, as I already had the honour
of telling you; his antecedents are, I suppose, rather
dark, and that is all I have been able to discover. This
man, who, I believe, belongs to no country, but who,
in consequence of his adventurous life, has visited
Sil ZABAGATE.
219
them all and speaks all languages, was at San Fran¬
cisco when the Count de Prébois Graneé organized
the cuadrilla of bandits, at the head of which he
undertook to dismember our lovely country, and
in which, between ourselves, he would probably have
succeeded had it not been for your skill and courage."
"We will pass over that, my dear colonel," the
general quickly interrupted him ; " I did my duty in
that affair, as I shall always do it when the interest
of my country is at stake."
The colonel bowed.
" Well," he continued, " the villain I am speaking
of could not let such a magnificent opportunity shp ;
he enlisted in the count's cuadrilla. I believe he was
starving at San Francisco, and, for certain reasons
best known to himsélf, was not soriy to leave that
city—but perhaps I weary you by giving you aU these
details."
" On the contrary, my dear colonel, I wish to he
thoroughly acquainted with this picaro, in order to
judge what reliance may be placed in his protesta¬
tions."
" On arriving at Guaymas, our man became al¬
most directly the secret agent of that unhappy Colonel
Fleury, who, as you well remember, was so brutally
assassinated by the Frenchmen."
" Alas, yes !" the general said with a sardonic
smile.
" Señor Pavo also employed him several times,"
Don Jaime continued ; " but, unfortunately for our
220
THE SED TBACE,
individual, Don Valentine, the count's friend, was
watching; he discovered, I knew not how, all his
little tricks, and insisted on his dismissal from the
company, after a quarrel he had with one of the
French officers."
" I think I can remember the affair being talked
about at the time. Was not this villain known
by the sobriquet of the Zaragate ?"
" He was, general ; fiirious at what happened to
him, and attributing it to Don Valentine, he took an
oath to kill him whenever he met him, so soon as the
opportunity offered itself."
"Well?"
" It seems that, despite all his goodwill and his
eager desire to get rid of his enemy, the opportunity
has not yet offered, as he has not killed him."
" That is true ; but how did you come across this
scoundrel, colonel ?"
"Well, general," he answered with some hesita¬
tion, " you know that I have been compelled during
the last few days, for the sake of our affair, to keep
rather bad company. This scoundrel came to offer
his services. I cross-questioned him, and knowing
your enmity to that Frenchman, I resolved to inform
you of this acquisition. If I have done wrong, forgive
me, and we will say no more about it,"
" On the contrary, colonel," the general said
eagerly. " The deuce ! not only have I nothing to for¬
give, but I feel very gratefdl to you, for your confes¬
sion has come at a most fortunate time. You shall
Ell ZAEAGATE.
221
judge, however, for I wish to be frank with you, the
more so because, apart from the high esteem I feel
for yoiir character, our common welfare is at stake at
this moment." "
" Tou frighten me, general."
"You will be more frightened directly; know
that this Valentine, this Frenehman, this demon, has
I know not by what means, discovered our conspiraey,
holds all the threads of it, and, more than that, is ac¬
quainted with all the members, beginning with my¬
self."
" Yoto a hrios !" the colonel exclaimed, with a start
of surprise, and turning pale with terror, " in that
case we are lost."
"Well, I confess that our chances of success are
considerably diminished."
"Pardon me for asking, general," he continued
in great agitation, " but in circumstances like the
present "
" Go on, go on, my dear colonel, do not be em¬
barrassed."
" Are you sure, general, perfectly certain as to the
statement you have just made to me ?"
"You shall judge. About an hour before the
opening of the theatre, Don Valentine himself—
you understand me ?—came to my house with two
friends, doubtless cutthroats in his pay, and revealed
all to me ; what do you say to that ?"
" I say that if this man does not die we are hope¬
lessly lost."
222
ins BED XEACK.
" That is my opinion too," the general remarked,
coldly,
" How came it that, in spite of this terrible reve¬
lation, yon ventured to show yourself at the theatre ?"
Don Sebastian smiled and shrugged his shoulders
disdainfully.
" Ought I to let even indifferent persons see tho
anxiety that devoured me? Undeceive yourself,
colonel, boldness alone can save us; do not forget
that we are risking our heads at this moment."
" I am not likely to forget it."
" As for this man, the Zaragate, I must not and
will not see him ; but do you deal with him as you
think proper. You understand that it is of the
utmost importance that I should be ignorant of the
arrangements you may make with him, and be able
to prove, if necessary, that I had no knowledge of
this. Moreover, as you are aware, I am not one for
extreme measures ; the sight of such a villain would
be repulsive to me, for I have such a horror of blood¬
shed. Alas !" he added, with a sigh, " I have been
forced to shed only too much in the course of my life."
" I do not know exactly," the colonel muttered.
" I have entire confidence in you ; you are an in¬
telligent man ; I give you full authority, and whatever
you do will be well done. You understand me, I
trust ?"
" Yes, yes", general," the officer grunted ili-tem-
peredly, " I understand you only too well."
" I see "
EL ZAEAGATE.
223
" What do you see ?" the other interrupted him.
" That, if we succeed, you will be a general and
Governor of Sonora. That is rather a pretty pro¬
spect, I fancy, and one worth risking something for."
" It is useless to remind me of your promises,
general ; you are well aware that I am devoted to
you."
" I know it, of course, and on that account leave
you. A longer conversation in the moonlight might
arouse suspicions. Good night, and come and break¬
fast with me to-morrow."
" I will not fail, general. Good night, and I kiss
your excellency's hands."
The general pulled his hat over his eyes, wrapped
himself in his cloak, and went off hastily towards the
Calle de Tacuba. On being left alone, the colonel
remained for a moment plunged in deep thought ; the
office with whichhe was intrusted, forheperfectly caught
the meaning of the general's hints, was most serious.
He must act vigorously without compromising his
chief, and in the shortest possible period, under
the penalty of being himself arrested and shot in four
and twenty hours if he failed. For the Mexicans, like
their old masters the Spaniards, do not jest in matters
connected with revolutions, and boldly cut away the
evil at the root,, by killing all the leaders of the abor¬
tive conspiracy.
The situation was critical, and he must make up his
mind, for the slight delay might ruin all ; but at so
late an hour where was he to meet a man like the
224
THÜ BED TBACE.
Zaragate, who had probably no known, domicfle, and
who led, a no doubt most irregular life.
Mexico, like all large cities, is amply endowed
with suspicious houses, frequented by rogues of all
ages, who are continually wandering about iu search
of adventures, more or less lucrative, under the com¬
placent protection of the moon.
Moreover, although the worthy colonel had, in the
course of his life, frequented very mixed company, as
he himself allowed, he was not at aU anxious to ven¬
ture alone at night into the lower parts of the city,
and enter the velorios, thorough cutthroat dens, filled
with robbers and assassins, in which respectable per¬
sons do not ev^n venture in bright day without a
shudder.
At the moment when the colonel mechanically
raised his head and looked despairingly up to heaven,
he fancied he saw several suspicious shadows prowl¬
ing about him in a suggestive manner. But the
colonel was brave, and the more so, because he had
literally nothing to lose, hence he quietly loosened
his sword, opened his cloak, and at the instant when
four or five fellows attacked him at once with ma¬
chetes and long navajas, he was on guard according to
all the rules of the art, with his left foot supported
a pillar, and his cloak wrapped like a buckler round
his aim.
The attack was a rude one, but the colonel with¬
stood it manfully; besides, all went on in the Mexican
way, without a shout or call for help. When you are
XL ZABAQATE.
225
thus attacked in a Mexican street, yon feel so assured
of death, that you generally confine yourself to the
best possible defence, without losing time in calling
for help, which will certainly not arrive.
Still, the assailants being armed with short and
heavy weapons, had a marked disadvantage against
the colonel's long and thin rapier, which twisted like
a snake, writhed round their weapons, and had already
pricked two of the men sharply enough to make the
others reflect, and display greater prudence in their
attack. The colonel felt that they were giving ground.
" Come on, villains," he exclaimed, as he gave a
terrific lunge, and ran one of the bandits right
through the body, who rolled on the pavement with a
yell of pain. " Let us come to an end of this, in the
-demon's name !"
" Stop, stop !" the man who seemed the leader of
the bandits exclaimed ; " we are mistaken."
As the bandits asked for nothing better than to
stop, they retreated a few steps without hesitation.
" Yes, Rayo di Dios, you are mistaken, birbones,"
the exasperated colonel shouted.
" Can it possibly be you," the first speaker con¬
tinued, " Señor Colonel Don Jaime Lupo ?"
" HaUoh !" the colonel said, falling back a step in
surprise, " who mentioned my name ?"
" I, excellency ; a friend."
" A friend ? a strange friend who has been trying
to assassinate me for the last ten minutes."
" Believe me, colonel, that had we known whom
«
226
THE BES TBACH.
we had to deal with, we shoxild never have attaeked
yon. All this is the result of a deplorable misunder-
standing, which you wiU, however, excuse."
" But who are you, in the demon's name ?"
"What, excellency, do you not recognize the
Zaragate ?"
" The Zaragate !" the colonel exclaimed, with glad
surprise. " Well, scoundrel, are you aware that yours
is a singular trade ?"
" Alas ! excellency, a man must do what he can,"
the bandit replied, in a sorrowful voice.
" Hum ! then you have turned robber at pre¬
sent ?"
The scoundrel drew himself up with dignity.
" No, excellency. I am serving, in the company of
these honourable caballeros the persons who claim my
help."
The honourable caballeros, seeing that the affair
was going to end peacefully, had returned their
knives to their belts, and seemed tolerably well satis¬
fied at this unexpected conclusion, with the exception
of the man who had received the last thrust, and sur¬
rendered his felon soul to theíend; an acquisition,
between ourselves, of no great value to the spirit of
darkness.
" Can any one have requested your services against
me. Señor Zaragate ?" the colonel continued, as he re¬
turned his sword to its scabbard.
" Not at all, excellency. I have already had the
honour of remarking that it was a mistake ; we were
EL ZABAOATE.
227
waiting here for a young spark, who dui-ing the last
week has contracted the bad habit of prowling under
the window of a senator's mistress, and who asked
me as a kindness to free him from this troublesome
fellow."
"Caspita! Señor Zaragate, you have a rather
quick way with you ; and your senator appears to me
somewhat hasty. But as your little matter is pro¬
bably spoiled for to night "
" I think, excellency, that the gaUant heard the
clash of steel, and took very good care not to come
on."
" If he did so, he acted wisely ; at any rate, if no
other motive keeps you here, and you have no objection
to accompany me, I shall feel obliged by your doing
so, for I have to talk with you on veiy serious mat¬
ters, and, in fact, was looking for you."
" Only see what a thing chance is !" the bandit
exclaimed.
" Hum ! let us hope it will not be quite so brutal
next time."
The Zaragate burst into a laugh.
" Stay !" the colonel continued, as he laid a gold
coin in his hand, " be good enough to give this in my
name to these honourable caballeros, and beg them to
forgive the rather rough way in which, at the first
moment, I received their advances."
" Oh, they will not owe you a grudge, my dear sir,
you may be sure of that."
The bandits, perfeotlyreconciled with the colonel by
228
inE BED TEACK.
means of the coin, gave him tremendous bows, accom¬
panied by offers of service, and took leave of him,
after exchanging a few sentences in a whisper with
their chief; then they went off to the right, while
the colonel and his companion turned to the left.
" They seem to be rather determined fellows," the
colonel said, in order to broach his subject.
" Perfect lions, excellency, and obedient as ras¬
treos."
"Excellent; and have you many of that sort
under your hand ?"
" Nothing would be easier, in the case of need,
than to make up a dozen."
" All equally true ?" >
" All."
" That is really valuable, do you know that, Senot
Zaragate ; and you are a lucky caballero !"
" Your excellency flatters me."
" On my word, no. I am expressing my honest
opinion, that is all."
" Pardon me, excelleney ; but may I ask where
we are going ? "
" Have you an inclination for one direction more
than another ?"
"Not the slightest, excellency; still, I confess
that, as a general rule, I like to know where I am
gomg."
" Every sensible man ought to be of the same
way of thinking. Well, we are going to my house;
have you any objection to that ?"
EL ZABÂQÂTE. 229
" Nono at all. I think you said, excellency, that
I was a lucky man ? "
" Indeed I did, and I repeat that I consider you
very fortunate."
" Hum, you know the proverb, excellency, 'every¬
one knows where the shoe pinches him,' "
"That is true, and I suppose the shoe pinches
you, eh ?"
"It does," he replied, with a sigh.
The colonel looked at hiA anxiously, "I un¬
derstand the cause of your grief," he said ; " and it is
the worse, because there is no remedy for it,"
" Do you think so ? "
" Caspita ! I am certain of it."
" You may be mistaken, excellency."
" Nonsense ! You who so graciously place your¬
self at the service of those who have an insult
to avenge, are forced to renounce your own ven¬
geance."
" Oh, oh, excellency, what is that you are saying ?"
" I am speaking the truth. You hate the French¬
man whom you mentioned to me to-day, but you are
afraid of him,"
" Airaid ! " he exlaimed angrily,
" I believe so," the colonel answered cooUy,
" Oh ! if I only made up my mind to it "
" Yes," the colonel remarked, with a laugh, " but
you will not make up your mind because, I repeat,
you are afraid ; and to prove to you the truth of my
assertion, although I do not know the man, and only
230
THE BED TBA.CE.
take an interest in the matter for your sake, I mil
make you a wager if you like."
"A wager?"
"Yes."
«What is it?"
" I bet you that you wiU not dare avenge your¬
self on your enemy within the next four and twenty
hours, not even with the help of your twelve com¬
panions."
« And what wiU you bet, excellency ?"
"Well, I am so certain of running no risk, that
I will bet you one hundred ounces. Does that suit
you?"
" One hundred ounces ! " the bandit exclaimed,
his eyes sparkling with greed. Viva Dios ! I would
kin my own brother for such a sum."
« You are flattering yourself, I see."
"Here we are at your door, excellency, so it is-
needless for me to go any further. You said one hun¬
dred ounces, I think ?"
"Idid."
" Farewell. The coming day wiU not end before
I am avenged ! "
" Nonsense, nonsense ! you will think better of it.
Good night, Senor Zaragate."
And the colonel entered his house, muttering to
himself, in an aside, « I fancy I managed that cle¬
verly. If this accursed Frenchman escapes from the
blood-hounds I have let loose on him, he must be the
demon the general calls him."
AFTEB THE INTERVIEW,
231
CHAPTER XXI.
after the interview.
The house taken for Valentine by Mr. Rallier was, as
we have already stated, situated in the Calle de Ta-
cuba, and by a strange accident, in no way premedi¬
tated, only a few yards from the mansion belonging
to General Don Sebastian Guerrero. The latter had
no suspicion of this, for until the moment when the
hunter thought it advisable to pay him a visit, he had
been completely ignorant of his enemy's presence in
Mexico, in spite of the crowd of spies whom he paid
to inform him of his arrival'in the capital.
The hunter, therefore, would only have had a few
steps to go to reach home after leaving the general.
But suspecting that the latter might have given
orders to have his carriage followed, he ordered his
coachman to drive to the Alameda, and thence to the
Paseo de Bucarelli.
As the night was far advanced, the promenaders
had abandoned the shady walks of the Alameda,
which was now completely deserted. This, doubtless,
was what the hunter desired, for, on reaching about
the centre of the drive, he ordered the coachman to
stop, and got out with his companions. After re¬
commending him to watch carefully over his mules
(in Mexico people do not use horses for their car¬
riages), and not let any one approach him, for fear
232
THE BED TEACK.
of one of those surprises so frequent at this hour at
this place, the three men then disappeared in one
of the shady waJks, though careful not to go too far,
so that they could assist their coachman in case of
need.
Valentine, like all men accustomed to desert life,
that is to vast horizons of verdure, had an instinctive
distrust of stone walls, behind which, in his fancy, a
spy was continually listening. Hence, when he had
an important affair to discuss, or a serious matter to
communicate to his friends, he preferred—in spite of
the care with which his house had been chosen, and
the faithful friends who passed as servants there—
going to the Alameda, the Paseo de Bucarelli, the
Vega, or somewhere in the environs of Mexico, where
after posting Curumilla as a sentry, that is to say,
the man in whom he had the most perfect faith, and
whose scent, if I may be allowed the term, was infal¬
lible, he believed that he could safely confide his
closest secrets to the friends he conveyed to these
strange open-air councils.
On reaching a thick clump of trees the hunter
stopped.
" We shall be comfortable here," he said, as he sat
down on a stone bench and invited his friends to
imitate him, "and shall be able to talk without
fear."
" The trees have eyes, and the leaves ears," Bel-
humeur answered sententiously ; " I fear nothing so
much in the world as these transparent screens of
AFTEE TEE IKTEBVIEW.
233
verdure, which iUow everything to be seen and
heard."
" Yes," Valentine remarked with a smile, " if yon
do not take the precaution to frighten away spies
and at the same moment he imitated the soft ca-
denced hiss of the coral snake.
A similar hiss was heard from the centre of the
clump and seemed like an echo.
" That is the chief's signal," the Canadian said.
" He has been watching for us there for nearly an
hour. Do you now believe that we are in safety ?"
" Certainly ; when Caramilla watches over us wo
have no surprise to apprehend."
" Let us talk, then," said Don Martial.
" One moment," Valentine remarked, " we must
first hear the report of a friend, which is most valu¬
able, and win doubtless decide the mpasures we have
to adopt."
" "Whom are you alluding to ?"
" You shall see," Valentine answered, and clapped
'his hands thrice softly.
Immediately a slight sound and a gentle rustling
of leaves was heard in a neighbouring thicket, and a
man suddenly emerged, about four paces from the
hunters. It was Carnero, the capataz of General
Guerrero. He wore a vicuna skin hat,. of which tho
largo brim was bent over his eyes, and he was wrap¬
ped up in a spacious cloak.
" Good evening, señores," he said, with a polite
bow, " I have been awaiting your coming for nearly
2Sé
THE BES TBACE.
an hour, and almost despaired of seeing you to¬
night."
" We were detained longer than we expected by
General Guerrero,"
" Do you come from him ? "
" Did I not teU you I should call on him p "
" Yes ; but I hardly believed that you would have
the temerity to venture so imprudently into the lion's
den."
"Nonsense," Valentine said with a disdainful
smile, " the lion as you call him, I assure you, was
remarkably tame ; he drew in his claws completely,
and received us with the most exquisite polite¬
ness."
" In that case take care," the capataz replied, with
a significant shake of the head ; " if he received you
as you say, and I have no reason to doubt it, he is,
be assured, preparing a terrible countermine against
you."
"I am of the same opinion; the question is,
whether we shaU allow him the time to act."
" He is very clever, my dear Valentine," the
capataz continued, " and seems to possess an intuition
of evil» In spite of the oath I took to you when, on
your entreaty, I consented to remain in his service,
there are days when, although I possess a thorough
knowledge of his character, he terrifies even me,
and I feel on the point of giving up the rude task
which, through devotion to you, I have imposed on
myself."
APTBE THE INTERVIEW.
235
" Courage, my friend ; persevere but a few days
longer, and, believe me, we shall be aU avenged."
"May heaven grant it!" the capataz said with a
sigh ; " but I confess that I dare not believe it, even
though it is you who assure me of the fact."
" Have you learnt any important news since our
last interview ?"
" Only one thing, but I think it is of the utmost
gravity for you."
" Speak, my friend."
" What I have to tell you is short and gloomy,
señores. The general, after a secret conversation
with his man of business, ordered me to carry a letter
to the Convent of the Bernardines."
" To the convent ?" Don Martial exclaimed.
"Silence," said Valentine. "Do you know the
contents of this letter?"
" Doña Anita gave it me to read. The general
informs the abbess that he is resolved to finish the
matter; that whether his ward be mad or not, he means
to marry her, and that at sunrise on the day after
to-morrow, a priest sent by him will present himself
at the convent to arrange the ceremony."
" Great God !" what is to be done ?" the Tigrero
exclaimed sadly; "how is the execution of this odious
machination to be prevented?"
" Silence," Valentine repeated. " Is that all. Car¬
nero ?"
"No; the general adds, that he requests the
abbess to prepare the young lady for this union, and
.236
THE BED TBACK.
that he will himself call at the convent to-morrow,
in order to explain more fiilly his inexorable wishes
—^these are the very words of the letter."
" Very good, my fiñend, I thank you for this pre¬
cious information; it is of the utmost importance
that the general should be prevented from going to
the convent before three o'clock of the tarde. You
understand, my friend, this is of vital importance, so
you must manage to effect it."
" Do not be uneasy, my dear Valentine ; the
general shall not go to the convent before the hour you
indicate, whatever may be the means I am forced to
employ to prevent him."
" I count on your promise, my friend ; and now
good-bye."
He offered him. his hand, which the capataz
pressed forcibly.
" When shall I see you, again ?" he asked.
"I will soon let you know," the hunter an¬
swered.
The capataz bowed and went down a walk ; the
sound of his footsteps'rapidly decreased, and was
quite inaudible within a few minutes.
" My fnends," Valentine then said, " we have now
arrived at the moment for the final struggle, which we
have so long been preparing. We must not let ourselves
be led away by hatred, but act like judges, not as men
who are avenging themselves. Blood demands blood,
it is true, according to the law of the desert ; but,
remember, however culpable the man whom we have
AETEE THE INTEEVIEW.
237
condemned may be, bis death would be an indelible
spot, a brand of infamy which would sully our honour."
" But this monster," the Tigrero exclaimed, with
a passion the more violent because it was repressed,
" is beyond the pale of humanity."
" He may re-enter it to repent."
" Are we priests then to practise forgetfulness of
insults ?" Don Martial asked with a fiendish grin.
" No, my fi-iend, there are men in the grand and
sublime acceptation of the term ; men who have often
been faulty themselves, and who, rendered better by
the life.of struggling they have led, and the grief
which has frequently bowed them beneath its iron
yoke, inflict a chastisement, but despise vengeance,
which they leave to weak and pusillanimous minds.
Who of you, my friends, would dare to say that he
has suffered more 'than I ? to Him alone will I
concede the right of imposing his wiU on me, and
what He bids me do I will do."
"Forgive me, my friend," the Tigrero answered,
" you are ever good, ever great. God, in imposing on
you a heavy task, endowed you at the same time
with an energetic soul, and a heart which seems to
expand in your bosom under the blast of adversity,
instead of withering. We, however, are but common
men, in whom the sanguinary instinct of the savage
is constantly revealed in spite of all our efforts, and
who know no other law save that of retaliation.
Forget thë senseless words my lips uttered, and be
assured that I will ever joyfully obey you, whatever
238
THE BED TEACK.
yon may command, persuaded as I am, that you can
only ask the man who has utterly placed himself in
your power to do just actions."
The hunter, while his friend was speaking thus in
a voice broken by emotion, had let his head fall on
his hands, and seemed absorbed in gloomy and pain¬
ful thought.
" I have nothing to forgive you, my friend," he
replied in a gentle, sympathizing voice, " for through
my own sufferings I can understand what yours are.
I, too, often feel my heart bound with wrath and in¬
dignation ; for, believe me, my friend, I have a con¬
stant struggle to wage against myself, not to let
myself be led away to make a vengeance of what
must only be a punishment. But enough on this
head ; time presses, and we must arrange our plans,
so as not to be foiled by our enemies. I went to-day
to the palace, where I had a secret conversation with
the President of the Eepublic, whom, as you are
aware, I have known for many years, and who
honours me with a friendship of which I am far
from believing myself worthy. At the end of our
interview he handed me a paper, a species of blank
signature, by the aid of which I can do what I think
advisable for the success of our plans."
" Did you obtain such a paper ?"
"I have it in my pocket. Now, listen to me.
Ton will go at sunrise to-morrow to the house of
Don Antonio Ballier; he will be informed of your
coming, and you wiU follow his instructions."
ATTEB THE INTEETIEW.
239
" And you ?"
" Do not be anxious about my moToments, good
friend, and only tbink of your own business, for, I
repeat, the decisive moment is approaching. The
day after to-morrow begins the feast of the anni¬
versary of Mexican Independence; that is to say,
on that day we shall do battle with our enemy, and
meet him face to face ; and the combat will be a rude
one, for this man has a will of iron, and a terrible
energy. We shall be able to conquer him, but not
to subdue him, and if we do not take care he will
slip through our hands like a serpent; hence our
personal affairs must be finished to-morrow. Though
apparently absent, I shall be really near you, that is
to say, I will help you with all my power. Still, do
not forget that you must act with the most extreme
prudence, and, above all, the greatest moderation;
a second of forgetfulness would ruin you, by alarming
the innumerable spies scattered round the .Convent
of the Bernardines. I trust that you have heard and
understood me, my friend ?"
" Tes, Don Valentine."
" And you will act as I recommend ?"
" I promise it."
" Reflect, that you are perhaps risking the loss of
your future happiness."
" I will not forget your recommendation, I swear
to you; I am risking too great a stake in [this game,
which must decide my future life, to let myself be
induced to commit any act of violence."
240
THE BED TEACH.
" Good ; I am happy to hear you speak thus ; >
but have confidence, my Jtiend, I feel certain that we
'shall succeed." I
" May heaven hear you !"
" It always hears those who appeal to it with a
pure heart and a lively faith. Hope, I teU you ; and
now, my dear Don Martial, permit me to say a few
words to our worthy friend, Belhumeur."
" I will withdraw."
" What for ? have I any secrets from you ? You
can hear what I am going to say to him."
" You have nothing to say to me, Valentine," the
hunter said, with a shake of his head, " nothing hut
what I know already; I have no other interest in
what is about to take place beyond the deep friend¬
ship that attached me to the count and now to you.
You think that the recollection I have preserved of
our unhappy friend cannot be sufficiently engraven
on my heart for me to risk my life at your side in
avenging him; but you are mistaken, Valentine, that's
all. I will not abandon you in the hour of combat ;
I will remain at your side even should you order me
to leave you. I tell you that I swear, and have taken
an oath to that eifect, to make a shield of my body
to protect you, if it should be necessary. Now, give
me your hand, and suppose we say no more aboutit ?"
Valentine remained silent for a moment ; a scald¬
ing tear ran down his bronzed cheeks, and he took
the hand of the höhest, simple-minded Canadian, and
merely uttered the words—
the blank signatuee.
24,1
" Thank you ; I accept."
They then rose, and returned to their carriage,
after Valentine had warned his faithful body-guard,
Curumilla, by a signal that he could leave his hiding-
place, as the interview was over. A quarter of an '
hour later the three gentlemen reached the house in
the Calle de Tacuba, were Curumilla was already
awaiting them.
CHAPTEE XXII.
the blank signattjee. .
On the morrow, Mexico awoke to a holiday ; nothing
extraordinary, in a country where the year is a per¬
petual holiday, and where the most frivolous pretext
suffices for letting oW cohetes, that supreme amusement
of the Mexicans.
This time the affair was serious, for the inhabitants
wished to celebrate in a proper manner the anniver¬
sary of the Proclamation of Independence, of which
the day to which we allude was the eve.
At sunrise a formidable lando issued from the
government palace, and went through all the streets
and squares of the city, announcing with a mighty
clamour of bugles and drums, that on the next day
there would be a bull fight with " Jamaica" and
" Monte Parnasse " for the leperos, high mass cele¬
brated in aU the churches, theatres thrown open
242
THE BED IBAOB.
gratis, a review of the garrison, and of all the ttoops
quartered sixty miles round, and fireworks and illu¬
minations at night, with open-air balls and feria.
The government did things nobly, it must be con¬
fessed; hence the people issued from their houses,
spread feverishly through the streets at an early hour,
laughing, shouting, and letting oflf squibs, while sing¬
ing the praises of the President of the Eepublic, and
taking, after their fashion, something on account of
the morrow's festival.
Don Martial, in order to throw out the spies
doubtless posted round Valentine's house, had left
his friend in the middle of the night, and gone to his
lodgings, and a few minutes before day proceeded to
the house of Mr. Eallier.
Although the sun was not yet above the horizon,
the Prench gentleman was already up and conversing
with his brother Edward, while waiting for the
Tigrero. Edward was ready to start, and his brother
was giving him his parting recommendations.
" You are welcome," theErenchman said cordially,
on perceiving Don Martial ; " I was busy with our
affair. My brother Edward is just off to our quinta,
whither my mother and my brother Auguste pro¬
ceeded two days ago, so that we might find all in
order on our arrival."
Although the Tigrero did not entirely understand
what the banker said to him, he considered it un¬
necessary to show it, and hence bowed without
answering.
THli! BLANK SIGNATUEE.
243
"Airis settled, then," Mr. Eallier continued,
addressing his brother ; " get everything ready, for
we shall probably arrive before mid-day—that is to
say, in time for lixnch."
" Tour country house is not far from the city ?"
the Tigrero asked, for the sake of saying something.
" Hardly five miles ; it is at St. Angel ; hut in an
excellent position for defence, in the event of an
attack. Tou are aware that St. Angel is built on
the side of an extinct volcano, and surrounded by
lava and spongy scoria, which renders an approach
very difhcult."
" I must confess my ignorance of the fact."
" In a country like this, where the government is
bound to think of its own defence before troubling
itself about individuals, it is as well to take one's
precautions, and be always perfectly on guard. And
now be off, my dear Edward ; your weapons are all
right, and two resolute peons will accompany you ;
besides, the sun is now rising, and you will have a
pleasant ride ; so good-by till we meet again."
The two brothers shook hands, and the young
man, after bowing to Don Martial, left the house,
followed by two servants well mounted, and armed
like himself. During this conversation the peons had
put the horses in a close carriage.
" Get in," said hlr. Eallier.
" "What !" Don Martial replied, " are we going
to drive?"
By Jove ! do you think I would venture to go
244,
THE BED TEACE.
to tlie convent on horseback ? why, we could not go
along a street before we were recognized."
" But this carriage will betray you."
" I admit it ; but no one will know whom it
contains when the shutters are drawn up, which I
shall he careful to do before leaving the house.
Come, get in."
The Tigrero placed himself by the Frenchman's
side ; the latter pulled up the shutters, and started
at a gallop in a direction diametrically opposed to
that which it should have followed, in order to reach
the convent.
" Where are we going ?" the Tigrero asked pre*
sently.
" To the Convent of the Bernardines."
" I fancy we are not going the right road."
That is possible, hut, at any rate, it is the
safest."
" I hiunbly confess that I cannot understand it at
all."
Mr. Eallier began laughing.
" My good fellow," he replied, " you will under¬
stand at the right time, so he easy. You need only
know, that in acting as I am doing, I am carrying
out to the letter the instructions of Valentine, my
friend and yours. It was not for nothing that he has so
long home the name of the Traü-hunter ; besides,
you remember the prairie adage, which has always
appeared to me full of good sense, ' The shortest
road from one point to another is a crooked line.^
THE BLAHK SIGNATUEE.
245
Well, we are following the crooked line, that is all.
Besides, in all that is about to take place, you must
remain completely out of the question, and restrict
yourself to being a spectator, rather than an actor,
and willing to obey me in everything I may order.
Does this part displease you ?"
The frenchman said this with the merry accent
and delightful simplicity which formed the basis of
his character, and which caused everybody to like
him whom accident brought in contact with him.
"I have no repugnance to obey you, Señor Don
Antonio," the Tigrero answered. "The confidence
our common friend places in you is a sure guarantee
to me of your intentions. Hence dispose of me as
you think proper, without fearing the slightest objec¬
tion on my part."
" That is the way to talk," the banker said, with
a laugh. " Now, to begin, my dear señor, you will
do me the pleasure of changing your dress, for the
one you wear is slightly too worldly for the place to
which we are going."
" Change my dress ?" the Tigrero exclaimed.
"Diablos! you ought to have told me so at your house."
" Unnecessary, my dear sir. I have all you re¬
quire here."
"Here?"
"Well, you shall see," he said, as he took from
one of the coach pockets a Franciscan's gown, while
from the other he drew a pair of sandals and a cord.
" Have you not worn this dress before ?"
246
THE EED TEACK.
"I have."
" "Well, you are going to put it on again, and for
the following reasons : At the convent, people be¬
lieve (or pretend to believe, which comes to the same
thing) that you are a Pranciscan monk. Por the sake,
then, of persons who are not in the secret, it is neces¬
sary that I should be accompanied by a monk, and
more, that they may be able, if required, to take their
oaths to the fact."
" I obey you. But will not your coachman be
surprised at seeing a Pranciscan emerge from the
carriage into which he showed a caballero ?"
" My coachman ? Pardon me, but I do not think
you looked at him ?"
" Indeed, I did not. All these Indians are alike,
and equally hideous."
" That is true ; however, look at him."
Don Martial bent forward, and slightly lowered
the shutter.
" Curumüla !" he cried, in amazement, as he drew
back. " He, and so well disguised ?"
"Do you now believe that he will be sur¬
prised ?"
" I was wrong."
" Ho, but you do not take the trouble to reflect."
"WeU, I will put on the gown since I must.
Still, with your permission, I vrill keep my weapons
under it.'.'
"Caspita! my permission? On the contrary, I
order you to do so. But what are they ?"
THE BEANK ßlGNATUEE,
247
" ï"ou shall see. A machete, a knife, and a pair of
pistols."
" That is first-rate. If necessary, I shall be able
to find you a rifle. Trust to me for that."
"While talking thus, the Tigrero had changed his
dress ; that is to say, he had simply put the gown
over his other clothes, fastened the rope round his
body, and substituted the sandals for his boots.
" There," the Erenchman continued, " you are a
perfect monk."
"No ; I want something more, something which
"is even indispensable."
" What's that ?"
"The hat."
" That's true."
"That part of my costume I hardly know how
we shall obtain."
" Man of little faith !" the Frenchman said with a
smile, " see, and be confounded !"
"While speaking thus he raised the front
cushion, opened the box it covered, and pulled out
the hat of a monk of St. Francis, which he gave
the Tigrero.
" And now do you want anything else, pray ?" he
asked, mockingly.
"Indeed, no. Why, your carriage is a perfect
locomotive shop !"
" Yes, it contains a little of everything. But we
have arrived," he added, seeing the carriage stop.
"You remember that you must in no way make
248
THE BED TBAOK.
yourself prominent, and simply confine yourself to
doing what I tell you. That is settled, I think ?"
The IVenchman opened the door, for the car¬
riage had really stopped in front of the Convent of
the Bernardines. Two or three ill-looking fellows
were prowling about : and, in spite of their affected
indifference, it was easy to recognize them for spies.
The Trenchman and hi? companion were not deceived.
They got out with an indifference as well assumed as
that of the spies, and approached the door slowly,
which was opened at their first knock, and closed
again behind them with a speed that proved the slight
confidence the sister porter placed in the individuals
left outside.
" What do you desire, señores ?" she asked, po¬
litely, after curtseying to the new comers with a smile
of recognition.
" My dear sister," the Frenchman answered, " be
good enough to inform the holy mother abbess of
our visit, and ask her to favdur us with an interview
for a few moments."
" It is still very early, brother," the nun answered,
" and I do not know if holy mother can receive you
at this moment."
" Merely mention my name to her, sister, and I
feel convinced that she will make no difficulty about
receiving us."
" I doubt it, brother, for, as I said before, it is
very early. Stül, I am willing to tell her, in order
to prove to you my readiness to serve you."
TUB BLANK SIONATUllE.
249
" I feel deeply grateful to you for the kindness,
sister." ^
The sister then left the parlour, after begging the
two gentlemen to wait a moment. During her ab¬
sence the Frenchman and his companion did not ex¬
change a syllable ; however, this absence was short,
and only lasted a few minutes.
Without speaking, the sister made the visitors a
sign to follow her, and led them to the parlour where
we have already taken the reader, and where the
abbess was waiting for them.
The Mother Superior was pale, and seemed anxious
and preoccupied. She invited the two gentlemen
to sit down, and waited silently till they addressed
her. They, on their side, seemed to be waiting for
her to inquii e the nature of their visit ; but, as she
did not do so, and this silence threatened to be pro¬
longed for some time, Mr. Eallier resolved on break¬
ing it.
" I had the honour, madam," he said, with a re¬
spectful bow, " to send you yesterday, by one of my
servants, a letter, in which I informed you of this
morning's visit."
" Yes, caballero," she at once answered, " I duly
received this letter, and your sister Helena is ready
to go away with you, whenever you express the wish.
Still permit me to make one request of you."
" Speak, madam, and if I can be of any service to
you, believe me, that I shall eagerly seize the oppor¬
tunity."
250
THE BED TEACK.
"I buow not, caballero, how to explain myself,
for what I have to say to you is really so strange that
I fear lest it should call up a smile to your lips. Al¬
though Doña Helena has only been a few months in
our convent, she has made herself so beloved by all
her companions, through her charming character, that
her departure is an occasion of mourning for all of us."
" You render me very happy and very proud by
speaking thus of my sister, madam."
" This praise is only the expression of the strictest
truth, caballero. We are all really most grieved to see
her leave us thus. Still, I should not have ventured thus
to make myself the interpreter of our regrets, were
there not a very strong reason that renders it almost
a duty to speak to you."
"I am listening to you, madam, though I can
guess beforehand what you are going to say to me."
She looked at him in surprise.
"You guess! Oh, it is impossible, señor," she
exclaimed.
The Prenchman smiled.
" My sister. Doña Helena, as is generally the case
in convents, has chosen one of her companions, whom
she loves more than the others, and made her her in¬
timate friend. Is such the case, madam ?'
" How do you know it ?"
He continued, vrith a smile—
" Now, this young lady, so beloved not only by
Helena but by you, madam, and all your community,
is a gentle, kind, loving girl, who, in consequence of a
THE BIAHK BIGNATUEE.
251
great misfortune, became insane, but whom your tender
care has restored to reason. Still, you keep the latter
fact a profound secret, before all from her guardian,
who, not contented with having stripped her of her
fortune, now insists of robbing her of her happiness
by forcing ber to marry him."
" Señor, señor," the abbess exclaimed, as she rose
from her seat, with an astonishment blended with
terror, " who are you that you know so many things
of which I believed the whole world ignorant P"
" Who am I, madam? the brother of Helena, that
is to say, a man in whom you can place the most
entire confidence. Hence permit me to proceed."
The abbess, still suffering from extreme agitation,
sat' down again.
" Go on, caballero," she said.
" The guardian of Doña Anita, either that he has
suspicion, or for some other motive, wrote to you yes¬
terday, ordering you to prepare her to marry him within
twenty-four hours. Since the receipt of this fatal
letter. Doña Anita has been plunged in the deepest
despair, a despair further heightened by the sudden
departure of my sister, the only friend in whose arms
she can safely reveal her heart's secrets. But you,
madam, who are so holy and good, are aware that
God can at his pleasure confound the projects of the
vsicked, and change wormwood into honey. Did you
not receive a visit yesterday from Don Serapio de la
Honda ?"
" Yes, that gentleman deigned to visit me a few
252
THE HED TBACH.
moments before I received the fatal letter to wbich
you have referred."
" Did not Don Serapio, on leaving you, say these
words : ' Be kind enousrh to inform Doña Anita that
° •
a friend is watching over her; that this friend has
already given her unequivocal proofs of the interest he
takes in her happiness, and that, on the day when
she again sees the Franciscan monk, to whom she
confessed once before, all her misfortunes will be
ended?'»
" Yes, Don Serapio did utter those words."
" WeU, madam, I am sent to you, not only by him,
but by another person, who is no less than the President
of the Eepublic, not only to take away my sister but
also to ask you to deliver up to me Doña Anita, who
will accompany her."
" Heaven is my witness, señor, that I would be
delighted to do what you ask of me. Unhappily, it is
not in my power ; Doña Anita was entrusted to me by
her sole relation, who is at the same time her guar¬
dian, and though he is unworthy of that title, and my
heart bleeds in refusing you, it is to him alone that I
am bound to deliver her."
" This objection, madam, the justice of which I fully
appreciate, has been foreseen by the persons whose
representative I am. Hence they consulted on the
means to remove the scruples by entirely releasing
you from responsibility. Father, give this lady the
paper, of which you are the bearer."
Without uttering a word, Don Martial took from
THE BIAHK SIGHATUEE.
253
his pocket the blank signature Valentine had entrusted
to him, and handed it to the abbess.
" What is this ?" she asked.
" Madam," the Frenchman answered, " that paper
is a blank signature of the President of the Ee-
public, who orders you to deliver Doña Anita into my
hands."
" I see it," she said, sorrowfully ; " unfortunately
this blank signature, which would everywhere else
have the strength of the law, is powerless here. We
only indirectly depend on the temporal power, but
are completely subjugated to the spiritual power, and
we can only receive orders from it."
The Tigrero took a side glance, fuU of despair, at
his companion, whose face was still smiling.
" What would you require, madam," he continued,
"in order to consent to give up this unhappy young
lady to me ?"
" Alas, señor, it is not I who refuse compliance.
Heaven is my witness that it is my greatest desire to
see her escape from her persecutor."
" I am thoroughly convinced of that, madam ; that
is why, feeling persnaded of your good feeling towards
your charge, I ask you to tell me what authority you
require in order to give her up to me."
" I cannot, señor, allow Doña Anita to quit this
convent without a perfectly regular order, signed by
Monseignem- the Archbishop of Mexico, who alone-
has the right to command here, and whom I am com-
- pelled to obey."
251.
THE BED TEACK.
" And if I had that order, madam, all your scruples
u'ould be removed ?"
" Tes, all, señor."
" Tou would have no further difficulty in allo\ving
Doña Anita to depart ?"
" I would deliver her to you at once, señor."
" Since that is the case, madam, I will ask you to
do so, for I have brought you that order."
" Tou have it ?" she said, with undisguised delight.
" Here it is," he answered, as he took a paper from
his pocket-book, and handed it to her.
She opened it at once, and eagerly perused it.
" Oh now," she continued, " Doña Anita is free,
and I will "
" Oné moment, madam," he interrupted her, " have
you carefully read the order I had the honour of
giving you?"
" Tes, sir."
" In that case be kind enough to allow the young
ladies toput on secular clothing, and, as their departure
must be kept secret, allow my carriage to enter the
front courtyard. I fancied I saw ill-looking fellows
prowling about the neighbourhood, who looked to me
like spies."
" What must I say, though, to the young lady's
guardian ? I am going to see him to-day."
" I am aware of that, madam. Gain time; tell him
that his ward is iU ; that you have succeeded in gaining
her consent to the projected marriage, but, on the
condition that it be deferred for eight and forty hours.
THE BIANK SIGNATtTEE.
255
It is a fnlsehood I am suggesting to you, madam, but
it is necessary, and I feel convinced that heaven will
pardon it."
" Oh, do not be anxious about that, señor. I will
gladly take on myself the responsibility of this false¬
hood ; Doña Anita's guardian will not dare to oppose
so short a delay, however well inclined he may be to
do so : but in forty-eight hours ?"
"In forty-hours, madam," the Frenchman an¬
swered in a hollow voice, " General Guerrero will not
come to claim the hand of Doña Anita."
CHAPTEE XXIIII, ■
OÎT THE EGAD.
All the scruples of the Mother Superior—honourable
scruples, let us hasten to add—having thus been re¬
moved, one after the other, by Mr. Eallier, by means of
the double orders he had been careful to provide him¬
self with, the next thing was to see about getting
the two boarders away without further day.
The abbess, who understood the importance of a
speedy conclusion, left her visitors in the parlour, and,
in order to aVoid any misunderstanding, herself under¬
took to fetch the two young ladies, after giving a lay
sister orders to call the carriage into the first court¬
yard.
In a religious community, one of women before
256
THE BED TEA.CK.
all—^we do not mean this satirically—whatever may
be done, and whatever precautions may be taken,-
nothing can long be kept a secret. Hence, the two
gentlemen had scarcely entered the speaking-room of
the abbess ere the rumour of the departure of Doña
Anita and Doña Helena spread among the nuns with
extreme rapidity. Who spread the news no one could
have told, and yet everybody spoke about it as a
certainty.
The young ladies were naturally the first informed.
At the outset their anxiety was great, and Doña Anita
trembled, for she believed that she was fetched bv
order of her guardian, and that the monk speaking
with the abbess was the one sent by the general to
make immediate preparations for her marriage. Hence,
when the abbess entered Doña Helena's cell, she
found the pair in each other's arms, and weeping
bitterly.
fortunately, the mistake was soon cleared up, and
the sorrow converted into joy when the abbess, who,
through sympathy, wept as much as her boarders,
explained that of the two strangers, whom they feared
BO greatly, one was the brother of Doña Helena, and
the other the franciscan monk whom Doña Anita had
already seen, and that they had come, not to add to
her sarfierings, but to remove her from the tyranny
that oppressed her.
Doña Helena, on hearing that her brother was at
the convent, bounded with joy, and removed her
friend's last doubts, for, like all unhappy persons.
ON THE BOAS.
257
l)o5a Anita clung greedily to this new hope of sal¬
vation, which was thus allowed to germinate in her
heart at a moment when she believed that she had no
chance left of escaping her evil destiny.
The abbess then urged them to complete their
preparations for departure, helped them to change
their dress, and, after embracing them several times,
conducted them to the parlour.
In order to avoid any disturbance when the young
ladies left the convent, where everybody adored
them, the abbess had the good idea of sending the
nuns to their cells. It was a very prudent measure,
which, by preventing leave-taking, also prevented any
noisy manifestations of cries and tears, the sound of
which might have been heard outside, and have fallen
on hostile ears.
The leave-taking was short, for there was no time
to lose in vain compliments. The young ladies drew
down their veils, and proceeded to the courtyard
under the guidance of the abbess. The carriage had
been drawn as close as possible to the cloisters, and
the court was entirely deserted, only the abbess, the
sister porter, and a confidential nun witnessing the
departure.
As the Prenchman opened the door of the carriage,
a piece of paper lying on the seat caught his eyes.
He seized it without being seen, and hid it in the hollow
of his hand. After kissing the good abbess for the last
time, the young ladies took the back seat, and Don Mar¬
tial the front, as did Mr. Halber, after previously whis-
S
258
THE BED TEACK.
pering to the coachman, that is, to Curumilla, two
Indian words, to which he replied by a sinister grin.
Then, at a signal from the abbess, the convent gates
were opened, and the carriage started at full speed,
drawn by six powerful mules.
The crowd silently made room for it to pass, the
gates closed again immediately, and the carriage almost
immediately disappeared round the corner of the next
street.
It was about seven o'clock in the morning. The
fugitives—for we can give them no other name—gal¬
loped in silence for the first ten or fifteen minutes,
when the Frenchman gently touched his companion's
shoulder, and offered him the paper he had found in
the carriage.
" Head !" he said.
The paper only contained two words, hurriedly writ¬
ten in pencil—
" Take care."
" Oh, oh," the Tigrero exclaimed, turning pale,
" what does this mean ?"
" By Jove," the Frenchman answered cautiously,
" it means that, in spite of our precautions, or perhaps
on account of them, for in these confounded affairs
a man never knows how to act in order to deceive the
persons he fears, we are discovered, and probably
have spies at our heels."
" Carai ! and what will become of the young ladies
in the event of a dispute ?"
" In the event of a fight you mean, for there will
ON THE EOAD.
259
be an obstinate one, I foretell. Well, we will defend
them as well as we can."
" I know that ; but suppose we are killed ?"
"Ah ! there is that chance ; but I never think
of that till after the event."
" Oh heavèn !" Doña Anita murmured, as she hid
her head in her friend's bosom.
"Ee-assure yourself, señorita," the Frenchman
continued, " and, above all, be silent, for the sound of
your voice might be recognized, and change into cer¬
tainty what may still be only a suspicion. Besides, re¬
member that if you have enemies, you have also friends,
since they took the precaution to warn us. Now, in
all probability, this unknown offerer of advice will
not have stopped there, but thought of the means
to come to our assistance in the most effectual
manner."
The carriage went along in the meanwhile at a
break-neck pace, and had nearly reached the city
gates. We will now tell what had happened, and how
the Frenchman was warned of the danger that threat¬
ened him.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero had organized a
band of spies composed of leperos and scoundrels,
who, however, possessed acknowledged cleverness and
skill, and if Valentine had escaped their surveillance
and foiled their machinations, it was solely through
the habits which he had contracted during a length¬
ened life in the prairies, and which had become an
intuition with him, so far did he carry the quality of
260
THE BED IBAOE.
scenting and unmasking an enemy, whatever might
he the countenance he borrowed. But if he had not
been recognized, it was not the same with his Mends,
and the latter had not been able long to escape the
lynx eyes of the general's spies.
The Convent of the Bernardines had naturally be¬
come for some days past the centre of the surveillance,
as it were the spying hëad-quarters, of Don Sebastian's
agents. The arrival of a carriage with closed blinds
at the convent at once gave the alarm ; and though
Mr. Eallier was not personally known, the fact of his
being a Frenchman was sufficient to rouse suspi¬
cions.
"While the Frenchman and the monk were con¬
versing in the parlour with the abbess, a lepero pre¬
tended to hurt himself, and was conveyed by two of
his acolytes to the convent-gate, and the good-hearted
porter had not refused him admission, but, on the
contrary, had eagerly given him all the assistance his
condition seemed to require.
While the lepero was gradually regaining his
senses, his comrades asked questions with that cau¬
tious skill peculiar to their Mexican nature. The
sister-porter was a worthy woman, endowed with a
very small stock of brains, and fond of talking. On
finding this opportunity to indulge in her favourite
employment, she was easily led on, and, almost of her
own accord, told all she knew, not suspecting the harm
she did. Let us hasten to add that this all was very
h'ttle ; but, being understood and commented on by
oír THE HOAD.
261
intelligent men interested in discovering the truth, it
was extremely serious.
When the three leperos had drawn all they could
out of the sister-porter, they hastened to leave the
convent. Just as they emerged into the street, they
found themselves face to face with No Camero, the
general's capataz, whom his master had sent on a
tour of discovery. They ran up to him, and in a few
words told him what had happened.
This was grave, and the capataz trembled inwardly
at the revelation, for he understood the terrible danger
by which his friends were menaced. But Carnero
was a clever man, and at once made up bis mind to
his course of action.
He greatly praised the leperos for the skill they
had displayed in discovering the secret, put some
piastres into their hands, and sent them off to the
general, with the recommendation, which was most
unnecessary, to make all possible speed. Then, in his
tum, he began prowling round the convent, and
especially the carriage, which Curumilla made no difGi-
culty in letting him. approach, for the reader will
doubtless have guessed that the animosity the Indian
had on several occasions evinced for the capataz was
pretended, and that they were perfectly good friends
when nobody could see or hear them.
The capataz skilfully profited by the confusion
created in the crowd by the carriage entering the con¬
vent, to throw in, unperceived, the paper Mr. Eallier
had found. Certain novy that his friends wopld bç
262
TnK BED TBACK.
on their guard, he went off in his turn, after recom¬
mending the spies he left before the convent to keep
up a good watch, and Walked in the direction of the
Plaza Mayor smoking a cigarette.
At the comer of the Calle de Plateros he saw a
man standing in front of a pulquería, engaged in
smoking an enormous cigar. The capataz entered the
pulquería, drank a glass of Catalonian refino, hut while
paying, he clumsily let fall a piastre which rolled to
the foot of the man standing in the doorway. The
latter stooped, picked up the coin, and restored it to
its owner, and the capataz walked out, doubtless satis¬
fied with the quality of the spirit he had imbibed, and
cautiously continued his way. On reaching the plaza
again, the man of the pulquería, who was probably
going the same road as himself, was at his heels.
" Belhumeur ?" the capataz asked in a low voice,
without turning round.
" Eh ?" the other answered in the same key.
" The general knows the affair at the convent ; if
you do not make haste. Eon Martial, Don Antonio,
and the two ladies will be attacked on the road whilo
going to the quinta; warn your friend, for there is
not a moment to lose. Devil take the cigarette !" ho
added, throwing it away, "it has gone Out."
When he turned back, Belhumeur had disappeared;
the Canadian with his characteristic agility was already
running in the direction of Valentine's house. As for
the capataz, as he was in no particular hurry, he
quietly walked back to the general's, where he found
Olí THE EOÀD.
263
his master in a furious passion with all his people, and
more particularly with himself.
By an accident, too portentous not to have been
arranged beforehand, not one of his horseS could be
mounted ; three were foundered, four others bad been
bled, and the last three were without shoes. In the
midst of this the capataz arrived with a look of alarm,
which only heightened his master's passion. Carnero
prudently allowed the general's fury to grow a little
calm, and then answered him.
He proved to him in the first place that he would
commit a serious act of imprudence by himself starting
in pursuit of the fugitives in the present state of
affairs, and especially on the eve of a pronunciamiento
which was about to decide his fortunes. Then he re¬
marked to him that six peons, commanded by a reso¬
lute man, would be sufficient to conquer two men
probably badly armed, and, in addition, shut up in a
carriage with two ladies, whom they would not expose
to the risk of being killed. These reasons being good,
the general listened and yielded to them.
"Very good," he said; " Carnero, you are one of
Diy oldest servants, and to you I entrust the duty of
bringing back my niece."
The capataz made a wry face.
" There will be probably plenty of blows to receive,
and very little profit to d^erive from such an expedition."
"I believed that you were devoted to me,'- the
general remarked bitterly.
"Tour excellency is not mistaken; I am truly
264
THE BED TBACE.
devoted to you, but I have also a fondness for my
skin."
" I will give you twenty-five ounces for every slit it
receives ; is that enough ?"
" Come, I see that your excellency wishes me
to be cut into mince-meat!" the capataz exclaimed
joyously.
" Then that is agreed ?"
" I should think so, excellency ; at that price a man
would be a fool to refuse."
" But about horses ?"
" We have at least ten or a dozen in the corral."
" That is true ; I did not think of that," the general
exclaimed, striking his forehead; "have seven lassoed
at once."
" Where must I take the señorita ?"
" Bring her to this house, for she shall not set foot
in the convent again."
" Very good ; when shall I start, general ?"
"At once, if it be possible."
" In twenty minutes I shall have left the house."
But the general's impatience was so great that he
accompanied his capataz to the corral, watched all the
preparations for the departure, and did not return to
his apartments till he was certain that Carnero had
started in pursuit of the fugitives, with the peons he
had selected. '
In the meanwhile the carriage dashed along; it
passed at full gallop through the San Lazaro gate,
then turned suddenly to the right, and entered a
03Î THE EOAD.
,265
somewhat narrow street. At ahout the middle of this
street it stopped before a house of rather modest
appearance, the gate of which at once opened, and a
man came out holding the bridles of two prairie
mustangs completely harnessed, and with a rifle at
each saddle-how. The frenchman got out, and in¬
vited his companion to follow his example.
"Eesume your usual dress," he said, as he led
him inside the house.
The Tigrero obeyed with an eager start of joy.
While he dofled his gown, his companion mounted,
after saying to the young ladies—
" Whatever happens, not a word—not a cry ;
keep the shutters up ; we will gallop at the door, and
remember your lives are in peril."
Martial at this moment came out of the house
attired as a caballero.
" To horse, and let us be off," said Mr. Rallier.
The Tigrero bounded on to the mustang held in
readiness for him, and the carriage, in which the
mules had been changed, started again at full speed.
The house at which they had stopped was the one
hired by Valentine to keep his stud at.
Half an hour thus passed, and the carriage disap¬
peared in the thick cloud of dust it raised as it dashed
along. Don Martial felt new bom ; the excitement had
restored his old ardour as if by enchantment; he
longed to be face to face with his foe, and at length
come to a settlement With him. The Frenchman was
calmer ; though brave to rashness, it was with secret
266
THB EÈD TEACK.
anxiety he foresaw the prohahility of a fight, in which
his sister might be wounded ; still he was resolved, in
the event of the worst, to confront the danger, no
matter the number of men who ventured to attack
them.
All at once the Indian uttered a cry. The two
men looked back, and saw a body of men coming up at
full speed. At this moment the carriage was following
a road bounded on one side by a rather thick
chapparal, on the other by a deep ravine.
At a sign from the Frenchman the carriage was
drawn across, the road, and the ladies got out «««
went, under Curumilla's protection, to seek shelter
behind.the trees. The two men, with their rifles to
their shoulders and fingers on the triggers, stood firmly
in the middle of the road, awaiting the onset of their
adversaries, for, in all probability, the new comers
were enemies.
CHAPTER XXIV.
A SKIEMISn.
CuETTMlLLA, after concealing, with that Indian skill he
, so thoroughly possessed, the young ladies at a spot
where they were thoroughly protected from bullets,
had placed himself, rifle in hand, not by the side of
the two riders, but, with characteristic red-skin pru¬
dence, he ambuscaded himself behind the carriage,
A SKIB5IISH.
267
probably reflecting that bo represented tbe entire in¬
fantry force, and not caring, tbrongb a point of hononr,
very absurd in bis opinion, to expos© bimself to a
deatb not only certain, but useless to tbose be wisbed
to defend.
Tbe borsemen, bowever, on coming witbin range
of tbe persons tbey were pursuing, stopped, and by
tbeir gestures seemed to evince an hesitation tbe fugi¬
tives did not at all understand, after tbe fashion in
which tbey bad hitherto been pursued. The motive
for this hesitation, which tbe Frenchman and bis com¬
panions could not know, and which perplexed them
so greatly, was very simple.
Camero, for it was tbe general's capataz who was
pursuing tbe carriage, with bis peons, all at once per¬
ceived, with a secret pleasure, it is true, though ho
was careful not to let his companions notice it, that
while tbey were pursuing the carriage, other horse¬
men were pursuing them, and coming up at head¬
long speed. On seeing this, as we said, the party
baited, much disappointed and greatly embarrassed
as to what they bad better do,
Tbey were literally placed between two fires, and
were tbe attacked instead of tbe assailants ; the situa¬
tion was critical, and deserved serious considera¬
tion. Camero suggested a retreat, remarking, - with
a certain amount of reason, that the sides were no
longer equal, and that success was highly proble¬
matical, Tbe peons, all utter rufBans, and ex¬
pressly chosen by tbe general, but who entertained a
268
THE BED TBACK.
profound respect for the integrity of their limbs, and
were but very slightly inclined to have them injured
in so disadvantageous a contest with people who
would not recoil, were disposed to follow the advice
of the capataz and retire, before a retreat became im¬
possible.
Unhappily, the Zaragate was among the peons.
Believing, from his conversation with the colonel, that
he knew better than any one the general's intentions,
and attracted by the hope of a rich reward -f he suc¬
ceeded in delivering him of his enemy, thai, is to say,
in killing Valentine; and, moreover, probably im¬
pelled by the personal hatred he entertained for the
hunter, he would not listen to any observation, and
swore with horrible oaths that he would carry out the
general's orders at all hazards, and that, since the
persons they were ordered to stop were only a few
paces before them, they ought not to retire until they
had, at least, attempted to perform their duty ; and
that if his comrades were such cowards as to desert
him, he would go on alone at his own risk, certain that
the general would be satisfied with the way in which
he behaved.
After a declaration so distinct and peremptoiy,
any hesitation became impossible, the more so as
the horsemen were rapidly comiug up, and if the
capataz hesitated much longer he would be attacked
in the rear. Thus driven out of his last entrench¬
ment, and compelled against his will to fight. Camero
gave the signal to push on aheadf
A SKIBMISH.
269
But the peons had scarce started, ere three shots
were fired, and three men rolled in the dust. The
new comers, in this way, warned their fi:iends to hold
their ground, and that they were bringing help.
The dismounted peons were not wounded, though
greatly shaken by their fall, and unable to take
part in the fight ; their horses alone were hit, and
that so cleverly, that they at once fell.
"Eh, eh!" the capataz said, as he galloped on;
" these picaros have a very sure hand. What do you
think of it ?"
" I say that there are still four of us ; that is
double the number of those waiting for us down
there, and we are sufficient to master them."
"Don't be too sure, my good friend, Zaragate,"
the capataz said with a grin ; " they are men made of
iron, who must be killed twice over before they fall."
The Tigrero and his companions had heard shots
and seen the peons bite the dust.
" There is Valentine," said the Frenchman.
" I believe so," Don Martial replied.
" Shall we charge ?"
"Yes."
And digging in their spurs, tjiey dashed at the
peons.
Valentine and his two comrades, Belhumeur and
Black Elk (for the Frenchman was not mistaken, it
was really the hunter coming up, whom the Cauadian
had warned) fell on the peons simultaneously with
Don Martial and his companion.
THE HEB TEACK.
È. terrible, silent, and obstinate straggle went on
jiitr some minutes between these nine men ; the foes
Äad seized each other round the body, as they were
ûoo close to use firearms, and tried to stab each other.
Nothing was heard but angry curses and panting, but
not a word or cry, for what is the use of insidting
when you can kill ?
The Zaragate, so soon as he recognized the
hunter, dashed at him. Valentine, although taken off
his guard, offered a vigorous resistance; the two men
were entwined like serpents, and, in their efforts to
dismount each other, at last both fell, and rolled be-
néath the feet of the combatants who, without
thinking of them, or perceiving their fall, continued
to attack each other ftiriously.
The hunter was endowed with great muscular
strength and unequalled science and agility ; but on
this occasion he had found an adversary worthy of
him. The Zaragate, some years younger than Valen¬
tine, and possessed of his full bodily strength, while
urged on by the love of a rich reward, made super¬
human efforts to master his opponent and plunge his
navaja into his throat. Several times had each of
them succeeded in getting the other underneath, but,
as so frequently happens in wrestling, a sudden move¬
ment of the shoulders or loins had changed the
position of the adversaries and brought the one
beneath who a moment previously had been on the
top.
Still Valea^Bfi felt that his strength was becoming
A SCIBMISH.
271
exhausted; the unexpected resistance ho met with
from an enemy apparently so little worthy of him,
exasperatedf him and made him lose his coolness.
Collecting all his remaining vigour to attempt a final
and decisive effort, he succeeded in getting his enemy
cnce again under him, and pinned him down; hut
at the same moment Valentine uttered a cry of
pain and rolled on the ground—a horse's kick had
broken his left arm.
The Zaragate sprang up with a tiger's bound, and
bursting into a yell of delight, placed his knee on his
enemy's chest, at the same time as he prepared to
bury his navaja in his heart. Valentine felt that he
was lost, and did not attempt to avoid the death that
threatened him.
" Poor Louis," he merely said, looking firmly and
intrepidly at the bandit.
"Ah, ah!" the Zaragate said, with aferocious grin,
" I hold my * vengeance at length, accursed Trail-
hunter."
He did not complete the sentence ; suddenly seized
by his long hair, while a knee, thrust between his
shoulders, forced him to bend baek, he saw, as in a
horrible dream, a ferocious face grinning above his
head. With a fearful groan he rolled on the groimd ;
a knife had been buried in his heart, while his scalp,
which was suddenly removed, left his denuded skull
to inundate with blood the ground around.
Curumüla raised in his arms the body of his
friend, whogs life he had just saved once again, and
272
THE EED TBACE.
bore it to the side of the road. Valentine had
fainted.
The chief, so soon as he saw his Mends charge
the peons, left his ambush, and while careful to remain
behind them, followed them to the battle>£eld. He
had watched eagerly the long struggle between the
hunter and the Zaragate ; trying vainly to assist his
friend, but never able to succeed. The two enemies
were so entwined, their movements were so rapid, and
they changed their position so suddenly, that the
chief was afraid lest he might wound his Mend in
attempting to help him. Hence he awaited with ex¬
treme anxiety an opportunity so long delayed, and
which the Zaragate himself offered by losing his time
in insulting his enemy instead of killing him at once,
when the injury he received left him defenceless in
the bandit's power.
The Araucano bounded like a wild beast on the
Mexican, and without hesitation scalped and stabbed
him with the agihty characteristic of the red-skins,
and which he himself possessed in so high a degree.
Almost at the same moment the horsemen also
finished their fight. The peons had offered a vigor¬
ous resistance, but being badly supported by the
capataz, who was disabled at the beginning of the
skirmish by Don Martial, and seeing the Zaragate dead
and three of their friends dismounted and incapable
of coming to their assistance, they gave in.
The capataz had been wounded at his own re¬
quest by Don Martial, in order to save appearances
A SKIE3IISH.
273
•mtli the general ; he had a wide gash on his right
arm, very severe at the first glance, but insignificant
in reality. A peon had been almost smashed by
Belhumeur, so that the field of battle fairly remained
in the hands of tho hunters.
When their victory was insured they assembled
anxiously round Valentine, for they were alarmed at
his condition, and most anxious to be reassured.
Valentine, whose arm Curumilla had at once set, with
the skiU and coolness of an old practitioner, soon
reopened his eyes, reassured his friends by a smile,
and offered the Indian chief his right hand, which
the latter laid on his heart with an expression of
indescribable happiness, as he uttered his favourite
exclamation of Ugh! the only word he permitted
himself to use in joy or in sorrow, when he felt him¬
self choking with internal emotion.
" Señores," the hpnter said, " it is only an arm
broken; thanks to the chief, I have had an easy
escape. Let us resume our journey before other
enemies come up."
" And we, señor ?" the capataz cried humbly.
Valentine rose with the chief's assistance, and
took a furious glance at the peons. " As for you,
miserable assassins," he said with a terrible accent,
" return to your master and tell him'in what way you
were received. But it is not sufficient to have chas¬
tised your perfidy, I must have revenge for the odious
snare into which my friends and I all but fell. I will
leam whether in open day, and some half a dozen
27é
TnE BED TIIACK.
miles from Mexico, bandits can thus attack peaceable
travellers witL. impimity. Begone !"
Valentine was sliglitly mistaken, for, altnougk it
was really tkc intention of tke peons to attack them,
tke hunters had actually begun the fight by dismount¬
ing the three peons. But the fellows, convicted by
their conscience, did not notice this delicate distinction,
and were very happy to got off so cheaply, and he
enabled to return peaceably, when they feared that
their conquerors woul4 hand them over to the police
as they had a perfect right to do.
Thus, far from raising any objections, they broke
forth into apologies and protestations of devotion,
and hastened off, not troubling themselves to pick up
the body of their defunct comrade, le Zaragate, which
they left to the vultures which settled on it, so soon
as the highway was clear again. •
The capataz, under the pretext that his wound
was very painful, but in reality to give Valentine and
his friends the requisite time to secure themselves
temporarily from pursuit, insisted on returning to the
city slowly, so that they did not reach the genei'al's
mansion till two hours had elapsed.
So soon as the peons in obedience to the hunter's
orders had left the battle-field, he, on his part, gave
his companions the signal to start. Don Martial had
hurried to reassure the ladies, who were standing
iuore dead than alive at the spot where the chief had
concealed tliem. He made them get into tho car¬
riage again, without telling them anything except
A BKIIOIISn.
275
tliat tlio danger was past, and that the rest of the
journey would he performed in safety.
Valentine's friends tried in vain to induee hiin to
•get into the carriage with the ladies. He would not
consent, but insisted on mounting his horse, assuring
them, in the far from prohablo event of their being
attacked again, that he could stiU be of some service
to his companions in spite of his broken arm. The
latter were too well acquainted with his inflexible
will to press him further, so Çurumilla remounted,
the coach-box, and they started.
The rest of the journey was performed without
any incident, and they reached the quinta twenty
minutes later. The skirmish had taken place scarce
two miles from the country house. On reaching the
gates, Valentine took leave of his friend without
dismounting.
" What !" the latter said to him, " are you going,
Valentine, without resting for a moment ?"
" I must, my dear Ballier," he answered ; " j^ou
knov;- what imperious reasons claim my presence in
Mexico."
" But you are wounded."
" Have I not Curumüla to attend to my hurt ?
Do not be anxious about me : besides, I intend to sea
you again soon. This quinta appears to me strong
ençugh to resist a surprise. Have you a garrison ?"
" I have a dozen servants and my two brothers."
" In that case I am easy in my mind ; besides,
there is only one night to pass, ajid I believe that
276
the hed teach.
aftex' the lesson his people have received the genei*al
will not venture on a second attack, for some days at
least.» Besides, he reckons on the success of his pro¬
nunciamiento. You will come to me to-morrow at
daybreak, will you not ?"
" I shall not fail."
" In that case I will be off."
" Will you not say good-bye to the ladies ?"
" They are not aware of my presence, and it will
be better for them not to see me ; so good-bye till to-
. morrow."
And makine: a signal to his comrades who, in-
O O /
eluding Cm-umilla, to whom a horse was given, col¬
lected, around him, Valentine started at a gallop for
Mexico, caring no more for his broken arm tiia.n if it
were a mere scratch.
CHAPTER XXV.
los eegocijos.
On his return to the mansion, the capataz did not
see his master, at which he was extremely pleased,
for he desired to delay as long as possible an ex-
planation which, in spite of the wound he so com¬
placently displayed, he feared woxild turn out to his
disadvantage, especially when questioned by a man
like the general, whose piercing glance wotdd descend
to the bottom of his heart to discover the truth,
XOS EEGOCIJOS.
277
however cleverly hidden it might he behind a network
of falsehoods.
As only a few hours had still to elapse before the
explosion of the conspiracy, arranged with such caro
and mystery, the general was compelled for a while
to suspend bis schemes for the satisfaction of his lovo
and his hatred, and only attend to those in which his
ambition was engaged. The principal conspirators
had been summoned to Colonel Lupo's, and there the
final arrangements had been made for the morrow,
and the watchword given.
Although the government appeared plunged in
the most profoimd ignorance of what was preparing
against it, and evinced complete security, still the
President ^had made certain arrangements for the
morrow's ceremonies which did not fail greatly to
trouble the men interested in knowing everything,
and to whom the apparently most futile thing na¬
turally created umbrage.
The general, with the curiosity that distinguished
him, was anxious to know exactly the extent of the
danger he had to meet, and proceeded to the palace,
merely accompanied by his two aides-de-camp. The
general president received Don Sebastian with a
smile on his lips, and offered him the most gracious
reception. This reception, so cordial, perhaps too
cordial, instead of reassuring the general, had, on the
contrary, increased his anxiety, for he was a Mexican
and knew the proverb of his country—" Lips that
smile, and mouth that tells falsehoods."
278
THE BED TEACK.
Tho general was too calm to let his feelings ho
seen. He pretended to be dehghted, remained for
some timé with the President, who appeared to treat
him with a friendly familiarity, complained of the
rarity of his visits, and his obstinacy in not asking for
a command. In a word, tho two men separated appa¬
rently highly satisfied with each other.
Still, the general remarked that all the courts were
stuffed with soldiers, who were bivouacking in the open
air; that several guns had been placed, accidentally
pei'haps, so as to sweep completely the chief en-
ttance gate, and, more serious still, that the troops
quartered in the palace wero commanded by officers
strangers to him, and who had, moreover, the repu¬
tation of being devoted to the President of the Re¬
public.
After this daring visit, the general mounted his
horse, and, under the pretext of going for a walk,
went aU over the city. Everywhere the preparations
fdr the coming festival were being carried on with
the greatest activity. In the square of Hecatitlan,
for instance, situated in one of the worst parts of
the capital, a circus had been made for the bull fights
^t which the president intended to be present. ,
Humerous wooden erections, raised for the occa-
'Sion, filled the space usually devoted to tauromachy,
and formed an immense hall of verdure, with pleasant
clumps of trees, mysterious walks, and charming
retreats, prepared with the greatest care, where
everybody would go on the morrow to eat and drink
LOS BEOOCIJOS.
279
the atrocious productions of the Mexican art of
cookery, and enjoy what is called in that country
Jamaica.
Exactly in the centre of the arena a tree about
twenty feet in height was planted, with its branches
and leaves entirely covered with coloured pocket-
handkerchiefs that floated in the breeze. This tree
was the Monte Parnasse, intended to serve as a may¬
pole for the leperos, at the moment when the bull¬
fights begin, and a trial-bull, emhallado, that is to
say, with its horns terminating in balls, is let into
the ring.
All the pulquerías near the square were thronged
with a hideous, ragged mob, who howled, sang,
shouted, and whistled their loudest, while smoldng,
and, at intervals, exchanging knife-thrusts, to the
great delight of the spectators.
In all the sti-eets the procession would pass
through the houses were decorated; Mexican fiags
were hoisted in profusion at every spot where they
could be displayed ; and yet, by the side of all these
holiday preparations, there was, we repeat, something
gloomy and menacing that struck a chill to the heart.
Through all the gates fresh troops continually en¬
tered the city, and occupied admirably-chosen stra¬
tegic points. The Alameda, the Paseo di Bucarelli,
and even the Vega, Were converted into bivouacs, and
though these troops ostensibly only came to Mexico
to be present at the ceremony and be reviewed, they
were equipped for the field, and afibcted an earnest-
2S0
THE BED TEACK.
ness which caused much thought to those who saw
them pass or visited their bivouacs.
When a serious event is preparing, there aro in
the atmosphere certain signs which never deceive the
fosterers of revolutions; a vague and apparently
causeless anxiety seizes on the masses, and unconsci¬
ously converts their joy into a species of feverish
excitement, at which they are themselves startled, as
they know not to what to attribute this change in
their humour.
Hence the population of Mexico, mad, merry, and
joyous, as usual when a festival is preparing, in the
eyes of short-sighted persons, were in reality sternly
sad and suffering from great anxiety. The general
did not fail to observe these prognostics; gloomy
presentiments occupied his mind, for he understood
that a terrible tempest was hidden beneath this fic¬
titious calmness. Valentine's gloomy predictions re¬
curred to him. He trembled to see the hunter's
menaces realized; and, though unable to discover
when the danger would come, he foresaw that a great
peril was hanging over his head, and that his ambi¬
tious projects would soon, perhaps, be drowned in
floods of blood.
Unfortunately it was too late to desist ; he must,
whatever might happen, go on to the end, for he
had not the time to give counter orders, and urge the
conspirators to defer the explosion of the plot till a
moro favourable moment. Hence, after ripe reflec¬
tion, the general resolved to push on, and' trust fo
IOS BEOOCIJOS. 281
\
accident. Ambitious men, by tbe way, reckon, far
more than is supposed, on hazard, and those magnifi¬
cent combinations which are admired when success
has crowned them, are most frequently merely the
unforeseen results of fortuitous circumstances, com¬
pletely beyond the will of the man whom they have
profited. History, modem history especially, is full
of these combinations, these results impossible to'
foresee, which sensible men would not have dared to
suppose, and which have made the reputation of so-
called statesmen of genius, who are very small fry,
when regarded through the magnifying-glass or when
actions are sifted.
The general returned to his house at about six in
the evening, despahing, and already seeing his plans
annihilated. The report of his capataz added to his
discouragement, for it was the drop of wormwood
which makes the brimful cup run over. He withdrew
to his apartments in a state of dull fury, and in his
impotent rage accused himself for having ventured
into this fiightful situation, for he felt himself rapidly
gliding down a fatal slope, where it would be impos¬
sible for him to stop.
What added to his secret agony was, that he must
incessantly send off couriers, receive reports, talk
with his confidants, and feign in their presence not
merely calmness and gaiety, but also encourage them,
and impart to them an ardour and hope which he no
longer possessed.
The whole night was spent thus. A terrible night,
283
THE BED TRACK.
during which the general endured all the tortures
that assail an ambitious man on the eve of a scandal¬
ous plot against a government which he has sworn
to defend. Ho was agitated by those dull murmurs
of the conscience which can never bo thoroughly
stifled, and which would inspire pity for these nn-
happy men, were they not careful, by their own acts,
to put themselves beyond the pale of that humanity
of which they have become real monsters. The most
wholesome lesson that could be given to those ambi¬
tious manikins, sO frequent in the lower strata of so¬
ciety, would be to render them witnesses of the crush¬
ing agony that attacks any cahecilla during the night
that precedes the outbreak of one of its horrible
plots.
Sunrise surprised the general giving his final
order's. Worn < out by the fatigue of a long watch,
with pallid brow, and eyes inflamed by fever, he tried
to take a few moments of restorative rest, which he
so greatly needed ; but his efibrts were fruitless, for
he was suflering from an excitement too intense, at
the decisive hour, for sleep , to come and close his eyes.
Already the bells of all the churches were pealing
out, and filling the air with their joyous notes. In all
the sti'cets, and in aU the squares, boys and leperos
were letting off crackers, and uttering deafenhig
cries, which more resembled bursts of fury than de¬
monstrations of joy. The people, dressed in their
holiday clothes, were leaving then houses in masses,
and spreading like a torrent over the city.
IOS EE a o CIJOS,
283
The review was arranged for seven o'clock A.M.,
so that the troops might he spared the great heat of
the day. They were massed on the Paseo de Bucarelli
and the road connecting that promenade with the
Alameda.
We have already stated that the Mexican army,
twenty thousand strong, has twenty-four thousand
oiScers. Hence, in the enormous crowd assembled to
witness the review, tiniforms werè in a majority ; for
all the officers living on half-pay in Mexico, for some
reason or another, considered themselves bound to
attend the review as amateurs.
At a quarter to eight o'clock the drums beat, the
troops presented arms, a deafening shout was raised
by the crowd, and the President öf the Republic
arrived on the Pasco, followed by a large staff, glisten¬
ing with gold and lace, and with a cloud of feathers
waving in their cocked hats.
The Mexicans, much resembling in this respect
another nation we are acquainted with, adore feathers,
aiguülettes, and, before all, embroidered uniforms.
Hence the President was warmly greeted by the en¬
thusiastic Crowd, and his arrival was converted into
an ovation. General Guerrero had joined the Pre¬
sident's staff in his full-dress uniform, as Colonel
Lupo and other conspirators had also done ; the rest,
dispersed among the crowd, and well armed under
their cloaks, were giving drink to the already half-
intoxicated leperos, and secretly exciting them to
begin ah insurrection.
284
TUE EED TEACK.
In the meanwhile the review went on without
any hitch. It is true that the President restricted
himself to riding along the front, and then ordering
the troops to march past, for he did not dare, owing
to the notorious ignorance of the officers and soldiers,
risk the execution of any manoeuvre, for it would not
have been understood, and would have broken the
charm under which the spectators were fascinated.
Then the President, still followed by his staff, pro¬
ceeded to the cathedral. We will not say anything
about the official receptions, etc,, which occupied all
the morning.
The hour for the buU-fight arrived. Since the
review no one troubled himself about the troops, who
seemed to have suddenly disappeared—not a soldier
was visible in the streets ; but the people did not
think of them, for they were letting off fireworks,
laughing and shouting, which was quite sufficient to
amuse them. It was only noticed that these soldiers,
though invisible about the city, had apparently passed
the word to each other to be present at the bull-fight.
Nearly the whole of thepaZcos de sol in the circus, that
is to say, the parts exposed to the sun, were thronged
with soldiers, grouped peU-meU with the leperos, and
offering the most pleasant contrast with these ragged
scamps, who were yelling and whistling.
The President arrived, and the circus was, in a
second, invaded by the mob. Since an early hour
the Jamaica had begun, that lis to say, the framework
of verdure raised in the centre of the arena, forming
tos KEGOCIJOS.
285
rcfrcshmcnt-rooms, had, since daybreak, been filled
with a countless number of léperos, who ate and
di-ank with cries of ferocious delight.
Suddenly, at a given signal,'the gate of the torril
was opened, and a bull, embollado, rushed into the
arena. Then began an extraordinary indescribable
scene, resembling one of those diabolical meetings so
admirably designed by Callot.
The leperos, surprised by the arrival of the bull,
darted, shouting, pushing, and upsetting each other,
over the fi-amework, which they threw down and
trampled under foot in their terror, while seeking to
escape the pursuit of the embollado, who, also excited
by the tumult, hunted them vigorously. In a second
the arena was deserted, the refreshment-rooms swept
clean, and the performers in the jamaica sought any
shelter they could find on the edge of the palcos or
upon the columns, from which they hung in hideous
yelling and grimacing clusters.
A few leperos, however, bolder than the rest, had
darted to the Monte Parnasse, not only to find a shelter
there, but also to tear away all the coloured handker¬
chiefs fastened to the branches. In a twinkling the
thick foliage was hidden by the crowd of leperos who
invaded it.
The bull, after amusing itself for some minutes in
tossing about the remains of the framework, stopped
and looked cunningly around, and soon noticed the
tree, the only obstacle left to remove, in order to com¬
pletely empty the arena.
286
THE RED TRACK.
It remained motionless for an instant, as if hesi¬
tating ere it formed a resolution ; then it bowed its
head, made the sand fly with its fore-feet, lashed its
tail violently, and, rushing at the tree, dealt it re¬
peated and powerful blows.
The léperos uttered a cry of despair. The tree,
which was overladen, and incessantly capped at its
base by the bull, swayed, and at last fell sideways,
carrying down in its fall the leperos clinging to the
branches. The audience clapped their hands and
brohe into frenzied bravos, whieh changed into per-
fcet yells of delight when a poor fellow, who was
limping away, was suddenly caught up by the bull,
and tossed ten feet high in the air.
All at once, and at the moment whep the joy was
attaining its paroxysm, several rounds of artillery
were heard, followed by a well-sustained musketry
fire. As if by magic the buU was driven back to the
torril ; the soldiers scattered about the circus leapt
into the ring, and becoming actors instead of spec¬
tators, drew up in good order, and levelled their
muskets at the occupiers of the galleries and boxes,
who remained motionless with terror, for they did not
understand what was going on.
A door opened, and twenty bandsmen, followed by
eight ofiieers, and escorted by a dozen soldiers, entered
the ring, and began beating the drums. It was a •
governmental bando. So soon as silence was restored
martial law was proclaimed, and sentence of outlawry
passed on General Don Sebastian Guerrero and his ad-
LOS REGOCIJOS.
287
hercnts, wlio had just raised the standard of revolt,
and pronounced against the established government.
The crowd listened to the bando in a stupor which
was heightened by the fact that with each moment
the firing became sharper, and the artillery discharges
shook the air at more rapid intervals.
Mexico T/as once agam the prey of one of those
scenes of murder and carnage which, since the Pro-
elamation of Independence, has too often stained her
streets and squares with blood.
The President was on horseback in the centre of
the arena, sending off orders, listening to messages,
or detaching reinforcements whei'ever they were
wanted. The circus was converted into the head¬
quarters of the army of order, and the spectators,
although allowed to depart after some arrests had
been effected among them, remained trembling in their
seats, preferring not to venture into the streets, which
had been converted into real battle fields.
StiU the pronunciamiento was assuming formid¬
able proportions. General Guerrero had not played
for so heavy a stake without trjung to secm-e to his
side all probable chances of success ; and that success
would most ably have crowned his efforts, had he not
been betrayed. For, in spite of all the precautions
taken by the government, the affair had been begun
so warmly and resolutely that, after the contest had
continued for three hours, it was impossible to say on
which side the advantage would remain.
288
THE BED TEACS,
CHAPTER XXVL
THE PEONUKCUMIENTO.
In nay revolution, the insurgents have always an
immense advantage over the government they ai'c
attacking, from the fact that, as they hold together,
know their numbers, and act in accordance with a
long worked-ont plan, they are not only cognizant
of what they want, but also, whither they are pro¬
ceeding. The government, on the other hand, how¬
ever well informed it may be, and however well on its
guard, is obliged to remain for a considerable lengtli
of time in an attitude of armed expectation, without
knowing whence the danger that menaces it wiU
come, or the strength of the rebellion it will have to
combat.
On the other hand, again, as the secret of the dis¬
covery of the plot remains with a smaU band of con¬
fidential agents of the authorities, the latter do not
know at first whom to trust, or whom to reckon on.
They suspect everybody, even the very troops defend¬
ing them, whom they fear to see turning against
them at any moment, and overthrowing them. This
is more especially the case in Mexico and all the old
Spanish colonies, where the governmental system is
essentially military, and is consequently only based
on naturally unintelligent and venal troops, who are
utterly deficient of patriotic feelings, and whom in-
THE PEONUlíCIAilIEKTO.
289
teresfc alone, that is to say, pay or promotion, can keep
to their duty.
The history of all the revolutions which, during
the last fifty years, have caused torrents of blood to
flow in the New World, is entirely contained in the
last passage we have written.
The President of the Republic had been informed
of the designs of the general, as far as that was pos¬
sible ; he had known for more than a month that a
vast plot was being formed ; he even was aware of the
probable day fixed for the pronunciamiento, but he
did not know a syllable about the plans arranged by
Don Sebastian and his adherents. As the plot was
to burst out in Mexico, the President had filled the
capital with troops, and called in those on whose fide¬
lity he thought he coidd reckon with the greatest
certainty.
But his preparations were necessarily restricted to
this, and he had been constrained to wait till the
revolution commenced.
It burst forth with the suddenness of a peal of
thunder at twenty places simultaneously, at about the
second hour of the tarde. The President, who was at
once informed, and who had only come to the circus
in order not to be invested in the government palace,
instantly took the measures he thought most
efficacious.
The news, however, rapidly arrived, and became
worse and worse, and the insurrection was assuming
frightful proportions. The revolters at first tried to
290 THE BED TEACK,
instal tlieinselves on tte Plaza Mayor in order to seize
the government palace, but being repulsed with loss,
after a very serious contest, they ambuscaded them¬
selves in Tacuba, Secunda Monterilla, and San Agus¬
tín streets, erected barricades, and exchanged a sharp
fire with the faithful troops.
The cannon roared in the square, and the balls
made large gaps in the ranks of the insurgents, who
replied with yeUs of rage and increased firing.
Colonel Lupo had taken possession of two city
gates, which he burned down, and through which
fi-esh reinforcements reached the insurgents, who now
proclaimed themselves masters of one-third of the
city. The foreign merchants, established in Mexico,
had hoisted their national fiags over their houses, in
which they remained shut up, and sufiering great
anxiety.
The President was still standing motionless in the
centre of the circus, frowning at each new message,
or angrdy striking the pommel of his saddle with
his clenched fist. All at once a man gbded secretly
between his horse's legs, and gently touched his boot.
The general turned round quickly.
" Ah !" he exclaimed, on recognizing him. " At
last! Well, CurumiUa?"
But the Indian, without answering, thrust a
folded paper into his hand, and disappeared as rapidly
as he had come. The general eagerly scanned the
letter, which only contained these words, written in
French—" All is going on well. Charge vigorously,"
THE PEONUNCIAMIENTO.
291
The general's face grew brighter, he drc^v himself
Up haughtily, and brandishing his sword with a mar¬
tial air, shouted in a voice heard by all, " Forward,
Muchachos !"
TheUj digging his spurs into his horse's sides, he
galloped out of the circus, followed by the greater
part of the troops, the remainder receiving orders to
bold their present position until further warning.
"Now," said the President to the officers who
pressed round him, "the game is won; within an
hour the insurrection will be conquered."
In fact matters had greatly altered. This is what
had occurred :
Valentine, as we said, had taken a house in
Tacuba Street, and another in the vicinity of the
San Lazaro gate. During the night that preceded the
pronunciamiento, four hundred resolute soldiers,
commanded by faithful officers, were introduced into
the house in Tacuba Street, where they remained so
well hidden that no one suspected their presence. A
ßimüar number of troóps were stowed away in the
house at the San Lazaro gate.
Don Martial, at the head of a large body of men,
slipped into the small house belonging to the capataz,
and, being warned by the latter so soon as the general
had gone off to attend the review, he passed, into his
mansion through the masked door we know, and
occupied it without striking a blow.
The Tigrero straightway set a trap, in which
several of the principal chiefs of the insurgents were
292
TUE BED TEACK.
cauglit, believing that they wonld find General
Guerrero at home, and were at once made prisoners.
These three points occupied, they waited. Colonel
Lupo had attacked the San Lazaro gate so vigorously
and unexpectedly, that it was impossible to^ prevent
him burning it. A very obstinate fight at once be¬
gan, and the colonel, after a brave resistance, had
been at length compelled to retreat and fall back on
the main body of the insurgents, who were still
masters, or nearly so, of the centre of the city.
We have mentioned that in Mexico all the houses
are flat-roofed; hence, in any revolution, the scenes in
the street are repeated on the terraces of the houses ;
for the tactics adopted in such cases are to line these
terraces with soldiers. Through a strange fatality
the insurgents, while seizing the principal" streets,
had forgotten, or rather neglected, to occupy the
houses, as they believed themselves masters of the
situation.
All at once the terraces in Tacuba Street, looking
on the Plaza Mayor, were covered with sharpshooters,
who began a tremendous fire on the insurgents col¬
lected beneath them. The same manœuvre was
simultaneously executed in Monterilla and San
Angustia Streets, and the terraces of the palace
were covered with troops also.
The artillerymen, who had hitherto fired at long
range, now brought up their guns almost withm pistol-
shot of the streets, and, in spite of the musquetryfire
of the insurgents, bravely posted their batteries and
XHE PaONÜNCIAMIEHTO.
293
began hurtling showers of canister among the de¬
fenders of the barricades.
Almost simultaneously, the troops faithful to the
government appeared in the rear of the rebels, and
being supported by the sharpshooters on the terraces,
charged vigorously to the incessantly repeated cry of
" Méjico, Méjico, Independencia !"
The insurgents felt they were lost, for they were
caught between three fires; still they offered a
courageous resistance, for, knowing that if they fell
alive into the hands of the conqueror, they would be
mercilessly shot, they allowed themselves to be killed
with Indian stoicism, and did not yield an inch of
ground.
The general was in a terrible rage ; without a
hat, his face blackened with gunpowder, and his uni¬
form torn in several places, he leapt his horse over
the corpses, and dashed blindly into the thick of the
government troops, followed by a small band of
friends, who bravely let themselves be killed at his
side.
The fight was positively degenerating into a mas¬
sacre ; the two parties, as unhappily always happens
in civil wars, fought with the greater fury and obsti¬
nacy because brothers were contending against bro¬
thers, and many of them, for whom pohtics were
only a pretext, took advantage of the medley to satiate
personal hatred and avenge old insults.
However, this cotdd not go on for long thus, and
it was necessary to get out of the situation at all
294
THE BED TBACK.
risks. General Guerrero, unaware of the occupation
of Ids house, resolved to fight his way thither, barri¬
cade himself, and obtain an honourable capitulation
for himself and his comrades.
No sooner was the plan conceived than the execu¬
tion was attempted. Don Sebastian collected round
him aU the fighting men left, and formed them into
a small band—for the canister and bullets had made
frightful ravages in the ranks of the insurgents—and
placed himself at theii- head.
" Forward, forward !" he shouted as he rushed at
the enemy.
His men followed him with yells of fury. The
collision was terrible, the fight fearful ; for four or
five minutes a funereal silence brooded over this con¬
fused mass of combatants, who attacked each so
savagely. They stabbed each other mercilessly, dis¬
daining to use their firearms, and preferring, as a
speedier resource, the sharp points of their sabres and
bayonets.
At length the President's troops fell back slightly,
the insurgents took advantage of it to redouble their
efforts, which were already superhuman, and reached
the general's house. The doors were broken open in
an instant, and all rushed peU-mell into the courtyard.
They were saved 1 since they had at last reached the
shelter where they hoped to defend themselves.
At this moment a fiñghtful thing happened; the
gallery commanding the courtyard and the stairs
was entirely occupied by soldiers, and so soon as the
THE PBOHUHCIAMIENTO.
295
insurgents appeared, the muskets were pointed down
ait them, a tornado of fire passed over them like the
blast of death, and in a second a mass of corpses
covered the ground.
The insurgents, terrified by this sudden attack,
which they were so far fi-om anticipating, hurriedly fell
back, instinctively seeking an outlet by which to es¬
cape. The tumult then became terrible, and the massa¬
cre assumed the proportions of an organized butchery.
Driven back into the courtyard by the troops who
pursued them, and met there by those who had at¬
tacked them and now charged at the bayonet point,
these wretched men, rendered senseless by terror,
did not dream any longer of employing their weapons,
but falling on their knees before their executioners,
and olasping their trembling hands, they implored the
mercy of the troops, who, intoxicated by the smell of
blood, and afiected by that horrible murder-fever
which seizes upon even the coolest man on the battle
field, felled them, like oxen in the shambles, and
plunged their sabres and bayonets into their bodies
with grins of delight and ferocious laughter, and felt
a horrible pleasure in seeing their victims writhe
with heart-breaking cries in the last convulsions of
death.
General Don Sebastian, though wounded, and who
seemed to have been protected by a charm through¬
out this scene of carnage, defended himself like a
lion against several soldiers, who tried in vain to
transfix him with their bayonets. Leaning again.st a
296
THE BED TRACK.
column he 'whirled his sabre round his head, evidently
seeking death, but wishful to sell his life as dearly as
possible.
Suddenly Valentine cleft his way through the
combatants, followed by Belhumeur, Black Elk, and
Curumilla, who were engaged in warding off the
blows -the soldiers incessantly made at him, and
reached the general.
" Ah !" the latter said on perceiving him, " here
you are at last, then."
' And he dealt him a terrible blow, but Belhumeur
parried it, and Valentine continued to advance.
"Withdraw," he said to the soldiers who sur¬
rounded the general, " this man belongs to me."
The soldiers, though they did not know the hunter,
intimidated by the accent with which he uttered these
words, and recognizing in him one of those rare men
who can alvrays iinpose on common natures, respect¬
fully fell back without making the shghtest objec¬
tion.
The hunter threw his purse to them.
" You dare to defy the lion at bay," the general
shouted, gnashing his teeth ; " although attacked by
dogs, he can still avenge his death."
" You wül not die," the hunter said coldly; "throw
away that sabre, which is now useless."
" Ah, ah !" Don Sebastian said with a grin of
rage ; " I am not to die ; and why not, pray ?"
" Because," he answered, in a cutting voice, " death
would be a mercy to you, and you must be punished."
THE PRONUNCIAMIENTO.
297
"Oh!" he shrieked, and, hlinded by rage, he
rushed madly at the hunter.
. The latter, without falling back a step, contented
himself with giving a signal. At the same moment
a slip-knot fell on the general's shoulders, and he
rolled on the ground with a yell of rage. CurumiUa
had lassoed him.
In vain did Don Sebastian attempt further resist¬
ance ; after useless efforts he was reduced to utter im¬
potence, and forced, not only to confess he had been
vanquished, but to yield himself to the mercy of his
conquerors. The latter, at a sign from Valentine,
disarmed liim first, and then bound him, so that he
could not make the slightest movement.
The massacre was ended, the insurrection had
been drowned in blood. The few rebels who survived
the carnage were prisoners ; the victors, in the first
moment of enthusiasm, had shot several, and it re¬
quired the most energetic interference on the part
of the oflicers to check this rather too summary
justice.
At this moment joyous shouts burst forth, and
the President of the Republic entered the courtyard
at the head of a large staff, glistening with em¬
broidery.
"Ah, ah!" he said, as he took a contemptuous
glance at the general, who had been thrown on the
stones, ".so this is the man who wished to change the
institutions of his country ?"
Don Sebastian did not deign to reply; but he
298 THE RED TRACK.
»
looked at the speaker with such an expression of impla¬
cable hatred, that the President could not endure it,
and was forced to turn his head away.
" Did this man surrender ?" he asked one of his
officers.
/ " No, coward," thë general answered, with
clenched teeth, " I will not surrender to hangmen."
" Take this man to prison with the others," the
President continued, "an example must be made;
but take care that they are not insulted by the people."
" Tes," the general muttered, " ever the same
system."
"A full and entire pardon," the President con¬
tinued, "will be granted to the unhappy men who
were led astray, and have recognized their crime.
The lesson they have received was rather rough, and
I am convinced that it will do them good."
" Clemency after the massacre, that is the usual
way," the general said again.
The President passed without answering him, and
left the courtyard. A few minutes later the prisoners
were led away to prison, in spite of the efforts of
the exasperated populace to massacre them on the
road.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero was one of the
first to appear before the tribunal. He disdained any
defence, and during the whole trial preserved a gloomy
silence ; he was unceremoniously condemned to bo
shot, his estates confiscated, and his name was de¬
clared infamous.
the capilla.
299
So soon as tlie sentence was recorded, tie general
was placed in the chapel, where he was to remain
thi'ee days before execution.
CHAPTER XXVIL
the caeilla.
The Spanish custom—a custom which has been kept
up in aU the old colonies of that power—of placing
persons condemned to death in a chapel, requires
explanation, in order that it may he thoroughly
understood and appreciated, as it deserves to he.
Erenchmen, over whom the great revolution of '93
passed like a hurricane, and carried off most of their
belief in its sanguinary cloak, may smile with pity and
regard as a fanatic remainder from another age, this
custom of placing the condemned in chapel. Among
us, it is true, matters are managed much more simply :
a man, when condemned by the law, eats, drinks, and
remains alone in his cell. If he desire it, he is visited
by the chaplain, whom he is at liberty to converse
with, if he likes ; if not, he remains perfectly quiet,
and nobody pays any attention to him, during a period
more or less long, and determined by the rejection of
his appeal. Then, one fine morning, when he is least
thinking of it, the governor of the prison announces
to him, when he wakes, as the most simple thing in
the world, that he is to be executed that same day,
300
THE BED TBACK.
and only an hour is granted him to recommend his
soul to the divine clemency. The fatal toilet is made
by the executioner and his assistant, the condemned
man is placed in a close carriage, conveyed to the
place of execution, and in a twinkhng launched into
eternity, before he has had a moment to look round
him.
Is it right or wrong to act in this way ? We dare
not answer, yes or no. This question is too difficult
to decide, and would lead us the further, because we
should begin with asking society by what right it
wrogates to itself the power of killing one of its
members, and thus committing a cold-blooded assassi¬
nation, under the pretext of doing justice ; for we
confess that we have ever been among the most de¬
termined adversaries of punishment by death, as we
are persuaded that, in trying to deal a heavy blow,
human justice deceives itself, and goes beyond the
object, because it avenges when it ought merely to
punish. •
We will, therefore, repeat here what we said in a
previous work, in explanation of what the Spaniards
mean by the phrase " placing in chapel."
When a man is condemned to death, from that
moment he is, de facto, cut off from that society to
which he no longer belongs, through the sentence
passed on him ; he is consequently separated from his
fellow-men.
He is shut tip in a room, at one end of which is
an altar; the walls are hung with black drapery,
THE CAPILLA.
301
studded with silver, tears, and here and there mourn¬
ing inscriptions, drawn from Holy "Writ. Near bis
bed is placed the coffin in which his body is to he
deposited after execution, while two priests, who
relieve each other, but of whom one constantly re¬
mains in the room, say mass in turn, and exhort the
criminal to repent of his crimes, and implore divine
clemency. This custom, which, if carried to an
extreme, would appear in our country before all,
barbarous and cruel, perfectly agrees with Spanish
manners, and the thoroughly believing spirit of this
impressionable nation; it is intended to draw the
culprit back to pious thought, and rarely fails to
produce the desired effect upon him.
The general was, therefore, placed in capilla, and
two monks belonging to the order of St. Prancis, the
most respected, and, in fact, respectable in Mexico,
entered it with him.
The first hours he passed there were terrible ;
this proud mind, this powerful organization, revolted
against adversity, and would not accept defeat. Gloomy
and silent, with frowning brows, and fists clenched on
his bosom, the general sought shelter like a wild
beast in a comer of the room, recalling his whole life,
and seeing with starts of terror the bloody victims
scattered along his path, and sacrificed in turn to his
devouring ambition, sadly defile before him.
Then he reverted to his early years. When residing
at the Palmar, his magnificent family hacienda, his
life passed away calm, pure, gentle, and tranquil, with-
302 the bed teack.
k
out regrets, and without desires, among his faithful
servants. Then, he was so glad to be nothing, and to
wish to be nothing.
By degrees his thoughts followed the bias of his
recollections : the present was effaced ; his contracted
features grew softer, and two burning tears, the first,
perhaps, this man of iron had ever shed, slowly coursed
down his cheeks, which grief had hollowed.
The monks, calm and contemplative, had eagerly
followed the successive changes on this eminently
expressive face. They comprehended that their mis¬
sion of consolation was beginning, and approached the
general softly, and wept with him ; then this man,
whom nothing had been able to subdue, felt his soul
torn asunder ; the cloud that covered his eyes melted
away like the winter snow before the first sunbeam,
and he fell into the arms open to receive him, exclaim¬
ing, with an expression of desperate grief impossible
to render—
" Have mercy, heaven ! have mercy !"
The struggle had been short but tei-rible; faith
had conquered doubt, and humanity had regained its
rights.
The general then had with the monks a conversa¬
tion, protracted far into the night, in which he con¬
fessed all his crimes and sins, and humbly asked
pardon of God whom he had outraged, and before
whom he was about to appear.
The next day, a little after sunrise, one of the
monks, who had been absent about an hour, returned,
THE CAPILLA.
303
■bringing with him the general's capataz. It had only
been with extreme reluctance that Carnero had con¬
sented to come, for he justly dreaded his old master's
reproaches.
Hence his surprise was extreme at being received
with a smile, and kindly, and on finding that the
general did not make the slightest allusion to his
treachery, which the evidence before the court-mar¬
tial had fully revealed.
Camero looked inquiringly at the two monks, for
he did not dare put faith in his master's words, and
each moment expected to hear him burst out into re¬
proaches. But nothing of the sort took place ; the
general continued the conversation as he had began
it, speaking to him gently and kindly.
At the moment when the capataz was about to
withdraw, the general stopped him.
" One moment," he said to him ; " you know Don
Valentine, the French hunter, for a time I so long
cherished an insensate hatred ?"
" Yes," Carnero stammered.
"Be kind enough to ask him to grant me the
favour of a short visit ; he is a noble-hearted man, and
I am convinced that he will not refuse to come. I
should be glad if he consented to bring with him Don
Martial, the Tigrero, who has so much causé to com¬
plain of me, as well as my niece. Doña Anita de
Torres. "Will you undertake this commission, the last
I shall doubtless give you ?"
" Yes, general," the capataz answered, affected in
spite of himself by such gentleness.
soi TUE BED TEACK.
" ÏTow go ; be happy and pray for me, for we shall
never meet again."
The capataz went out in a>very different frame of
mind from that in which he had entered the capilla,
and hastened off to Valentine. The hunter was not
at home, for he had gone to the presidential palace,
but he returned almost immediately. The capataz
gave the message which his old master had entrusted
him with for him.
" I will go," the hunter said simply, and he dis¬
missed him.
Curumilla was at once sent off to Mr. Hallier's
quinta with a letter, and during his absence Valen¬
tine had a long conversation with Belhumeur and
Black Elk. At about five in the evening, a carriage
entered the courtyard of Valentine's house at a gal¬
lop ; it contained Mr. Eallier, Anita, and Don Martial.
" Thanks !" he said, on seeing them.
" Ton ordered me to come, so I obeyed as usual,"
the Tigrero answered.
" You were right, my friend."
" And now what do want of us?"
" That you should accompany me to the place
whither I am going at this moment."
" "Would it be indiscreet to ask you "
"Where?" the hunter interrupted him with a
laugh.
" Not at all ; I am going to lead you, Doña Anita,
and the persons here present, to the capilla in which
General Guerrero is confined."
THE CAPILLA.
305
" The capilla ?" the Tigrero exclaimed in amaze¬
ment, " for what purpose ?"
" What does that concern you ? The general has re¬
quested to see you, and you cannot refuse the request
of a man who has but a few hours left to live."
The Tigrero hung his head without answering.
" Oh ! I will go !" Doña Anita exclaimed impul¬
sively, as she wiped away the tears that ran down her
cheeks.
"Tou are a woman, señorita, and therefore good
and indulgent," the huntef said ; then turning to the
Tigrero, he said, with a slight accent of reproach,
" you have not yet answered me, Don Martial."
" Since you insist, Don Valentine, I will go," he
at length answered, with an effort.
" I do not insist, my friend ; I only ask, that is
all."
"Come, Martial, I implore you," Dona Anita
said to him gently.
" Tour will be done in this as in all other things,"
he said. " I am ready to follow you, Don Valentine."
Valentine, Dona Anita, Mr. Eallier, and Don Mar¬
tial got into the carriage. The two Canadians and the
chief followed them on horseback, and they proceeded
at a gallop to the chapel where the condemned man
was confined.
All along the road they foimd marks of the obsti¬
nate struggle which had deluged the city with blood
a few days previously ; the barricades had not been
entirely removed, and though the distance was,
i
306
THE BEB TEAOK.
in reality, very short, they did not reach the prison till
nightfall, owing to the detours they were forced to
make.
Yalentine begged his friends to remain outside,
and only entered with Dona Anita and the Tigrero.
The general was impatiently expecting them, and
testified a great joy on perceiving them.
The young lady could not restrain her emotion,
and threw herself into her uncle's arms with an out-
hurst of passionate grief. The general pressed her
tenderly to his bosom, and kissed her on the fore¬
head. *
" I am the more affected by these marks of affec¬
tion, my child," he said with much emotion, "because
I have been very harsh to you. Can you ever forgive
me the sufferings I have caused you ?"
" Oh, uncle, speak not so. Are you not, alas ! the
only relation I have remaining ?"
" Fpr a very short time," he said with a sad smile,
"that is the reason why I ought, without further
delay, to provide for your future."
" Do not talk about that at such a moment, uncle,"
she continued, bursting into teaa's.
" On the contrary, my child, it is at this moment,
when I am going to leave you, that I am bound to
insure you a protector. Don Martial, I have doné
you great wrong ; here is my hand, accept it as that
of a man who has completely recognized his faults,
and sincerely repents the evil he has done."
The Tigrero, more affected than he liked to dis-
THS CAPILLA. 807
play, fook a 6t€p forward, and cordially pressed the
hand offered him.
"General," he said, in a voice which he tried
in vain to render firm, "this moment, which I
never dared hope to see, fills me with joy, but at the
same time with grief."
" "Well, you can do something for me by proving
to me that you have really forgiven me."
" Speak, general, and if it is in my power ,"
he exclaimed warmly.
" I believe so," Don Sebastian answered, with his
sad smile. " Consent to accept my niece from my
hand, and marry her at once in this chapel."
" Oh, general !" he began, choking with emotion.
" Uncle, at this awful moment I" the young lady
murmured, timidly.
"Allow me the supreme consolation of dying
under the knowledge that you are happy. Don
Valentine, you have doubtless brought some of your
friends with you ?"
" They are awaiting your commands, general," the
hunter answered.
" Let them come in, in that case, for time presses."
One of the monks had prepared everything be¬
forehand.
"When the hunters and the French banker entered,
followed by Curumilla, and the officer commanding
the capilla guard, who had been warned before¬
hand, the general walked eagerly toward them.
" Señores," he said, " I would ask yon to do me
808
THE BED TBAOE.
the honour of witnessing 0» marriage of my niece,
Doña Anita de Torres, with this caballero."
The new comers bowed respectfully. At a signal
from one of the Franciscans they knelt down and the
ceremony began. It lasted hardly twenty minutes,
but never had a marriage mass been read or listened
to with more pious fervour. When it was ended, the
witnesses wished to retire.
" One moment, señores, if you please," the general
said to them. " I now wish to make you witnesses
of a great reparation."
They stopped, and the general walked up to
Valentine.
"Caballero," he said to him,"I know all the motives
of hatred you have against me, and those motives I
allow to be just. I am now in the same position in
which I placed Count de Prébois Crancé, your dearest
friend. Like him, I shall be shot to-morrow at day¬
break ; but with this difference, that he fell as a mar¬
tyr to a holy cause, and innocent of the crimes of which
I accused him, while I am guilty, and have deserved
the sentence passed on me. Don Valentine, I repent
from the bottom of my heart the iniquitous murder
of your friend. Don Valentine, do you forgive
me?"
"General Don Sebastian Guerrero, I forgive you the
murder of my friend," the hunter answered, in a firm
voice. " I forgive you the life of grief to which I am
henceforth condemned by you."
" Ton pardon me unreservedly ?"
TUE CAl'ILIiA.
809
" Unreservedly I do."
" Thanks ! We were made to love instead of
hate each other. I misunderstood you ; but yours
is a gi*eat and noble heart. Now, let death come, and
I shall accept it gladly ; for I feel convinced that
God will have pity on me on account of my sincere
repentance. Be happy, niece, with the husband of
your choice. Señores, all, accept my thanks. Don
Yaleutine, once more I thank you; and now leave
me all, for I no longer belong to the world, so let me
think of my salvation."
" But one word," Valentine said. " General, I
have forgiven you, and it is now my turn to ask your
pardon. I have deceived you."
" Deceived me !"
"Yes: take this paper. The President of the
Republic, employing his sovereign right of mercy,
has, on my pressing entreaty, revoked the sentence
passed on you. You are free."
His hearers burst into a cry of admiration.
The general turned pale ; he tottered, and for a
moment it was fancied that he was about to fall. A
cold perspiration stood on his temples. Dona Anita
sprang forward to support him, but he repulsed her
gently, and, with a great efiTort, exclaimed, in a
choking voice—
"Don Valentine, Don Valentine, such then is
your revenge. Oh ! blind, blind that I was to form
such an erroneous opinion of you ! You condemn ma
to live. Well, be it so; I accept, and will not de-
310
THE BED TBACK.
ceive your expectations. Fathers," he said, turn¬
ing to the monks, "lead me to your monastery.
General Guerrero is dead, and henceforth I shall bo a
monk of your order."
Don Sebastian's conversion was sincere. Grace
had touched him, and he persevered. Two months
after professing, he died in the Franciscan Monastery,
crushed by remorse and worn out by the cruel
penance he inflicted on himself.
Two days after the scene we have described,
Valentine and his companions left Mexico, and re¬
turned to Sonora. On reaching the frontier, the
hunter, in spite of the pressing entreaties of his
friends, separated from them, and returned to the
desert.
Don Martial and Dona Anita settled in Mexico,
near the Ralliers. A month after Valentine's de¬
parture, Dona Helena returned to the convent, and at
the end of a year, in spite of the entreaties of her
family, who were surprised at so strange a resolution,
which nothing apparently explained, the young lady
took the vows.
When I met Valentine GniUois on the banks
of the Rio Joaquin, some time after the events
recorded in this long story, he was going with
Curumilla to attempt a hazardous expedition across
the Rocky Mountains, from which, he said to me, with
that soft melancholy smile which he generally as¬
sumed when speaking to me, he hoj^ed never to
return.
THE CAl'ILLA.
311
I accompanied him for several days, and then we
were compelled to separate. He pressed my hand,
and, followed by his dumb friend, he entered the
mountains. For a long time I looked after him, for
I involuntarily felt my heart contracted by a sad
foreboding. He turned I'ound for the last time,
waved his hand in fareweft, and disappeared round
a bend of the track.
I was fated never to see him again.
Since then nothing has been heard of him, or of
CurumiUa. ÁU my endeavours to join them, or even
obtain news of them, was vain.
Are they still living ?—no one can say. Darkness
has settled down over these two magnificent men,
and time itself will, in all probability, never remove
the veil that conceals their fate ; for aU, unhappily,
leads me to suppose that they perished in that
gloomy expedition from which Valentine hoped,
alas I never to return.
XBD OF BED TBACK.
A BUFFALO HUNT.*
A STUDY OP THE AMERICAN WILD BULL.
♦
Cebtatn reasons, unnecessary to state liere, had some¬
what accidentally led me to a Sonorian hacienda, called
the Hacienda del Milagro, situated a few leagues from
Hermosillo, close to the Indian border, and belonging
to Don Eafael Clarillas de Saavedra, one of the richest
landowners in the province.
Don Kafael had spent what is called in Europe
a wild life, and for many years had traversed the
deserts of Apacheria in company of a Canadian ad¬
venturer of the name of Belhumeur. Although enor¬
mously rich, married to a woman he adored, and sur¬
rounded by a delightful family, Don Eafael had now
and then moments of gloom, in which he regretted the
time when, unhappy and disinherited, he wandered,
under the name of Loyal-heart, from Arkansas to
Apacheria, leading the precarious existence of wood-
rangers, living from hand to mouth, forgetful of a
* Although this animal is really the bison, it is so Commonly
called buffalo that I have adhered to that term.
314
A BUFFALO BUKT.
past which only sumtnoned up bitter griefs, and care¬
less about a future which he believed would never
realize the dreams of his poetical imagination.
Like all men who have suffered and passed
through a hard apprenticeship of life, Don Kafael was
kind and indxilgent to others, and ever ready to ex¬
cuse a fault when it only emanated from a forgetful-
ness of propriety or an error of judgment.
Two days after my arrival at the Hacienda del
Milagro, thanks to the cordial reception given me, I
was regarded as forming part of the family, and was
as much at my ease as if I had lived for years with
these new friends, who soon grew so old in my heart,
and whose memory will be ever dear to me.
One evening a new guest arrived at the hacienda,
where he was literally received with open arms, which
greatly surprised me ; for I knew the prejudices of
Spaniards against Indians, and the new comer was
simply a red-skin. It is true that this red-skin was
the first sachem of a powerful Comanche tribe, which
was explained to me in two words by Belhumeur, the
. Canadian hunter, with whom I had struck up a great
friendship from my first arrival at the hacienda.
This sachem was called Eagle-head. He came, iu
the name of his tribe, to invite Don Eafael, whom he ,
obstinately called Loyal-heart, to a great buffalo-
hunt which was to come off in Apacheria toward the
middle of the " Moon of the wild oats," that is to say,
about September 15th.
Don Eafael was greatly inclined to açcept this in-
A BITl'TAI.O HUNI.
315
TÍtatiou, but s sorrowful look, whicb bis wife gare
him aside, made him understaud how anxious his ah-
sence would make her. He therefore expressed his
inability to be present at this hunt, which he would
have so much liked to be, but very important business
compelled him to remain at the hacienda. He added,
however, that his friend Belhumeur would be happy
to take his place, in order to prove to Eagle-head the
value he set on his invitation and his lively desire to
show him all the deference which so great a chief as
he merited.
After a few words whispered in his ear, Belhuineur
introduced me to the Indian chief, to whom he men¬
tioned that, as I had never witnessed a buffalo-hunt,
I should be delighted with his permission to attend
the present one. The chief politely replied that Bel¬
humeur was an adopted son of the tribe, and that any
persons he thought proper to bring with him would
be received not only with great pleasure, but with the
greatest kindness, according to the consecrated cus¬
toms of Indian hospitality.
I warmly thanked, as 1 was bound to do, the
chief, who was flattered to hear me express myself
with some degree of elegance in his own language ;
and we agreed to meet at the winter village of the
Comanches of the Lakes, on the fifth sun of the Moou
of the wild oats.
Eagle-head took leave of us the same evening, in
spite of all otir efforts to keep him at least till the
next morning. He started in the direction of the
316
A BUFFALO HXJST.
desert with the light and gymnastic step peculiar to
the red-skins, which a trotting horse could not keep
up with, aud which enables them to cover au enor¬
mous distance in a relatively very short period.
Two days later, Belhumeur, myself, and another
Canadian hunter attached to the hacienda, by the name
of Black Elk, mounted on excellent mustangs, and
armed to the teeth, took leave of Don Eafael, who
saw us depart with a sigh of regret, and we proceeded
in the direction of the great western prairies.
Belhumeur was a first-rate companion, of tried
bravery; a thorough adventurer, gay, daring, and
reckless, whose life had been almost entirely spent in
the desert, and whom his attachment for Don Eafiael
had alone determined to give up the free and inde¬
pendent life of a hunter to confine himself, as he said
with a smile, within stone walls, where he ofttimes
felt that fresh air was wanting for his lungs.
Belhumeur was a book of which I turned over the
leaves of at my pleasure, and each page was full of
attractions for me, and offered me agreeable sur¬
prises.
Although I had myself long lived in the desert, I
had as yet only traversed countries where buffalo is
never met ; hence I was extremely anxious to obtain
some positive information about this interesting
animal, so useful to the Indians, who profess for it
a respect almost approaching to veneration. In this
way I hoped not to be quite a novice when I joined
the red-skins, and would know not only in what
A. BUrfAtO nUKT.
317
way to attack the new enemy I was about to con¬
front, but also how to behave, so as not to appear
an utter ignoramus in the sight of the Indians.
One evening, while seated at our watch-fire after
supper, smoking my Indian pipe charged with mor-
richée, or prairie tobacco, I asked Belhumeur, whose
good nature was inexhaustible, to give me the most
circumstantial information about the bufialo, which
he at once did with his usual goodwill.
This is what I learned in substance. I will ask my
reader's pardon for substituting my recollections for
the Canadian's prolix narration, for what they may lose
in simplicity of expression they will gain in brevity,
which is not a thing to be so much despised as might
be supposed at the first blush.
I am bound to state that all Belhumeur then told
me about the manners and habits of these singular
animals was most rigorously exact, as I was in a posi¬
tion to convince myself at a later date. This, theii,
was Belhumeur's account.
The Indians say proverbially that bees are the
advanced guard of the pale faces, and the buffaloes
the vedettes of the red-skins. In fact, although it is
impossible to explain the reason, bees constantly seek
to advance into the desert, and when they appear at
the border of clearings, it is certain that two or three
days later emigrants will turn up, with rifles on
their shoulders, and followed by a long file of waggons,
carts, horses, and cattle. These bold pioneers of civili¬
zation come, impelled by their adventurous instincts,
318
A BUFFALO HUKT.
to set up their tents in the heart of the desert, on the
shady banks of some unknown liver, and their unceasing
activity soon changes the character of the landscape.
In the same way when the traveller advances into
the savannahs, so soon as he sights the bufialo he
may be certain that he has reached the territory of the '
red-skins.
Now, ib appears to us that everything relating to
so interesting an animal as the buffalo, which is fatally
destined so soon to disappear, unless care be taken, and
which is so eminently useful, is worth recording.
Purchas in his " Pilgrimage " (London edition,
1614), says that in certain respects the buffalo re¬
sembles the lion, and in others the camel, ox, horse,
sheep, and goat. Civilization in its continuous onward
march destroys the great animals, and drives back
the red-skin and even the himter, unless he consent
to modify his fashion of living.
The buffalo, which, on its discovery in 1582 by
Lusman, in the province of Cinaloa, extended its wan¬
derings over nearly the whole of North America, now
restricts its excursions more and more, and is only
met with at present in the wildest deserts situated to
the west of the Eocky Mountains, which proves a
considerable diminution in their numbers, and this is
probably augmented by the Indian custom of only
killing cows and leaving the bulls.
The Americans, however, ought to interfere, for
the buffalo is capable of being tamed, and crossing it
with the European ox would produce a strong, patient,
A BUFFAIO HUHT.
319
and courageous breed, -whose services would be of
immense utility in the immense settlement of the
new states. We saw at a Texan hacienda completely
tamed buffaloes, which, according to their owners, were
an excellent substitute for the common ox.
The buffalo lives longer than the domestic ox : its
proportions are greater, and though its front is un¬
graceful, the hinder parts are handsome. The buffalo
is generally brown, though spotted ones are met with,
and even some completely white ; its face is very like
that of the bull ; its head covered with thick wool,
the long beard hanging from its lower jaw, and its
melancholy, gentle, and almost stupid eye give it a
singular and almost strange appearance. Its horns are
short, rounded, and capable of taking a fine polish ;
it has between its shoulders a very prominent hump,
whilst its hinder parts are covered with short, straight
hair, like that of European ruminants ; its short tail
terminates in a tuft of curly hair. The age of a buffalo
is discovered by the rings on its horns, the first four
counting for the first year.
The meat of the cows is considered more delicate
than that of the bulls, especially in the rutting season.
The parts most appreciated are the heart, the tongue,
the liver, tiie short rib, and the part called the hunter's
joint, that is to say, the chine near the shoulder-
blade. Eight bones are considered marrow-bones,
they are those of the legs and thighs. A cow supplies
about three hundred pounds of excellent meat, exclu¬
sive of the head, and several other parts of the animal ;
320
A BTTPFAIO HUKT.
the marrow of a single bone is suiEcient for a meal.
The Indians, in order to obtain it, throw the bone
into the fire after removing the meat, let it grill for a
few minutes, take it out, break it, and remove the
marrow, which is eaten, without seasoning, by means
of a sharp stick. This marrow is very delicate and
succulent, and when baked, it assumes the colour and
consistency of meat ; some hunters prefer to eat it
raw, but we did not find it so good in that state.
"When a manada of bufialoes is hunted, especially
if it be composed of bulls, a strong smeU of musk is
exhaled; when full galloping, their hoofs crack the
grass, as if it was dried. They have an extraordinary
fine scent, and smell a man two or even three miles off.
This animal is extremely difficult to kill. On a
certain occasion we lodged sixteen bullets in the body
of a buffalo, ere we could succeed in killing. Wish¬
ing to assure oneself of the truth of a fact, which
physicians and hunters had affirmed, namely, that the
frontal bone of a buffalo is bullet-prcof, we discharged
our rifle, at ten paces' distance, at the head of a dead
bull. The bullet did not penetrate, but was caught iu
the hair, where we found it again ; still it had struck
exactly in the centre of the forehead, for it had left its
mark there before rebounding.
We have not very exactly followed Belhumeur's
accouut, for, carried away by our sympathy for tlie
noble animal he described to us, we have placed our
ideas in the stead of bis. We openly confess here
that we are among those who sincerely regret that
A BUPFALO HUNT.
821
the proposal made in 1849, by Mr. Lamarre Picquot,
to introduce into France the buflfalo, as at once suit¬
able for draught and for consumption, was not seri¬
ously discussed and taken into consideration, for this
animal is one of the most useful, and would, we feel
convinced, render valuable services.
Our journey lasted more than a month ; for the
winter village of the Comanches of the Lakes is hidden
in a canon, in the middle of the first spurs of the
Eocky Mountains. Mounted on a vigorous mustang,
I generally rode at the head of our small party,
which I liked to do, in order to be more by myself,
and observe more at my ease.
One morning I saw, at a spot where the trail 1
followed was wide and open, and some distance ahead
of me, a large hawk, which appeared to be suffering,
and making efforts to fly away. "When I drew near
enough I found that it was enfolded by a long whip
snake, which had writhed several times round its body,
and the bird had only one wing at liberty.
In all probability the hawk had been the aggres¬
sor, and had dashed down at the snake, but the latter,
by cleverly enfolding its enemy, had succeeded in
escaping the danger.
The whip snake is a very handsome reptile, seven
to eight feet in length, when it has attained its full
growth. Along the greater part of its body it is no
larger than an ordinary ramrod. Its very thin neck
gradually tapers away down to the stomach, whence
it has obtained its name. For about three or four
X
322
A BrFPAlO HUHT.
inches the upper side of the head and neck is black
and lustrous as the plumage of a crowj while the
upper side of the body is chocolate coloured, except¬
ing the tail, which, nearly all the way from the sto¬
mach, is black.
There, however, is no general rule, except for the
head, neck, and tail, which are always black. I have
come across snakes of the same family in which the
other parts of the body varied. This reptile is very
quick, and seems to fly over the surface of the ground.
The most remarkable thing about it is, that it pos¬
sesses the faculty of running, while supporting itself
solely on the lower part of the tail, and holding its
body and head erect.
I cite this fact from personal knowledge, for I
was one day followed by a very handsome whip snake,
which kept erect and looked me in the face from time
to time, althongh I had made my horse trot rather
sharply, in order to see at what speed this snake could
advance in such an attitude. It, however, only seemed
to follow me through curiosity, for it is not at all
venomous, is of a gentle character, and it appears
familiar with man. I was surprised to find it in these
parts, for I believed it to be an inhabitant of Eastern
Elorida.
Thirty-three days after our departure from the
Hacienda del Milagro, we came in sight of the
Comanche village, and during the whole long journey
had not been exposed to the slightest danger, or
stopped by any annoying accident.
A BUFPALO HUNT.
323
"We were expected, and were received by tbe
chiefs, at the head oí whom Was Eagle-head, not merely
as firiends, but as children of the tribe. A spacious
cabin was placed at our disposal, and provisions were
brought us from all sides.
"We had arrived just at the right moment; the
grand festival of the buffaloes was to be held that
very night—a very curious ceremony, whose object is
to implore the blessing of the "Wacondah before be¬
ginning the hunt.
In the centre of the village a large open space had
been prepared, about sixty yards long by forty-five
wide, surrounded by an inclosure of reeds and willow
branches twelve feet high, and slightly bent inwards.
An entrance had been left, facing the east. The four
fires which are always kept up in the medicine lodge,
were burning in each corner, and the most distin¬
guished chiefs, among whom we were counted, sat in
a semicircle to the right of the inclosure.
Eagle-head, in his quality of first sachem of the
tribe, held the head of the file ; he had, expressly for
this occasion, painted his face blue, yellow, and white,
and wore on his head a fillet of some red skin.
The spectators, more especially the squaws, were
sitting against the palings silent and contemplative.
The men, some in full paint, others simply dressed or
naked to the waist, went about the interior of the in¬
closure irregularly. Children ranged round the fires
threw in from time to time willow branches, to keep
them burning.
324
A BüFfALO nUNT.
At the signal given by Ghichikouts for the feast to
begin, six old men emerged from a calli, and stood in
a row in front of the medicine lodge.
These men are chosen by the chiefs to represent
buffaloes, and after the ceremony large presents are
made to them. Each of them held in his hand a long
staff, at the end of which four black feathers were
fixed, and along the staves, at equal distances, were
fastened smaU tufts of young buffalo skin and bells.
These men-buffaloes carried their clubs in the left
hand, and two of them bore what the Comanehes call a
" badger," that is to say, a blown-up skin, which is
beaten like a drum. They stood at the entrance of
the medicine lodge, shaking their staves incessantly,
and in turn singing and imitating, with rare perfection,
the lowing of buffaloes, which lasted some considerable
time.
Behind them marched a tall man with a ferocious
face, whose head was covered with a fur cap, because
once on a time he had been scalped in a fight with the
Apaches. This man was the director of the feast, and
represented the leader of the old buffaloes ; his name
was " Eaised-scalp."
After a rather long station before the door, the
men-buffaloes at length entered the medicine lodge,
and sate down against the palings, behind one of the
fires.
So soon as they were all seated, each of them
planted his staff on the ground in front of him.
Several young warriors then came in with dishes of
1
A BUFFALO HUNT.
325
boiled beans and maize powdered with pemmican,
which they placed before the guests. These dishes
went the roxmd, each passing them to his neighbour
after eating a little. At times empty dishes were
placed before us, a ceremony of which I did not at
first understand the purport, and one of the bearers, a
man of colossal stature, very muscular, and almost
naked, whose hair fell in long tresses on his loins,
came to fetch one of these empty dishes. Then
Eagle-head hid his face in his hands and began sing¬
ing, after which he muttered a long speech or prayer,
winding up by returning the dish.
This speech contained wishes for the success of the
bufialo hunt, and the Wacondah was also invoked to
render him iavourable to the hunters and warriors.
The longest speeches were the best ; the bearer seemed
particularly satisfied; he bowed with an attentive
look, nodded his head as a sign of his pleasure, passed
his hand along the orator's right arm from the
shoulder to the wrist, and, before removing the dish,
answered with a few words of thanks.
This repast was prolonged for more than an hour ;
on all sides people ate and held speeches for the
success of the chase; during this the young men
standing in the middle of the inclosure prepared the
calumets, and brought them ready bghted to the
chief, the old men, and the strangers.
They stopped before each of us, walkmg from right
to left, and presented the calumet, the bowl of which
they held in their hand. Each man took two or three
323
s. BÜIFAIO HtrST.
wMfls, while murmuring a prayer, and then the calumet
passed on to the next.
, After this, our calumet-bearers frequently turned to
the four cardinal points, muttering mysterious words,
and indulging in strange gestures and imitations.
During this time the six old men-buâaloes did not
once leave off singing, shaking their medicine staves
behind the fire, and beating the " badger." At a cer¬
tain moment they rose, thrust forward the upper part
of their body, and began dancing, though still singing,
and shaking their wands, while the badger beat time.
"When this dance had lasted long enough, they re¬
sumed their places in the same order as before.
It is impossible for any one, \uiless he has
been present, to form an idea of the original sight
offered by this quamt scene. These men painted
of different hues, their varying dresses, their songs,
their drums, their cries, and the noises of every
description which blended with them, borne from
the desert on the wing of the night breeze, beneath
the dark and lugubriously starlit vault of heaven,
while the immense canopy of verdure formed as it
were a majestic temple for this singular ceremony-
all this did not faU. to possess a certain wüd grandeur'.
After the dances had continued for more than
two hours, the strangest part of the festival began
with the entrance of the squaws into the inclo-
eure. One of them, who was very young and remark¬
ably pretty, came up to her husband, and gave him
her waist belt and petticoat to hold, so that she was
perfectly naked under her gown. She advanced
A BUPFALO nUNT.
327
dancing to one of the most renowned warriors, passed
her hand all down his right arm, and then retired
slowly, with her smiling face turned towards him.
The warrior thus invited, at once rose, and disappeared
with her in the wood. There, a man may ransom him¬
self by making a present ; hut we must avow, to the
honour of the Indian fair sex, that few men do so.
My companions, Black Elk and Belhumeur, who were
invited, took very good care not to buy themselves
off, and, on the contrary, readily followed their dancer ;
but, for my part, I peremptorily refused, and re¬
mained deaf to all the looks, and nods, and wanton
smiles which the dear eharmers thought themselves
obliged to lavish on me as a stranger.
I must confess, to my sorrow, however, that it was
not from virtuous motives that I acted thus ; I was
in love, and courting at the time an exquisite girl
called "Boar's Head," whom I married eventually,
and with whom I lived happily for the five years we
had arranged that our marriage was to last. At the
end of that period I sold her for three female buffalo
skins to another chief of my tribe.
This feast lasted for four consecutive nights, from
one sun to the next ; the same ceremony was re¬
peated on each occasion with the most scrupulous
exactness, though we noticed that the squaws never
invited the same warrior twice, with the exception of
the two Canadian hunters.
When the ceremonies were quite ended, and all the
symbolical rites of the great medicine rigorously per-
328
A BUITALO HUNT.
formed, one morning at sunrise, twenty-five youth¬
ful warriors, chosen by Eagle-head, left the village,
mounted on excellent hunters, and each leading a
second horse by the bridle.
These warriors form a vanguard intended to dis¬
cover bufialo sign, and watch their movements, and
for that reason are called " bufialo scouts." The main
body of hunters, consisting of about eighty warriors,
among whom were my comrades and myself, did not
start till two days later.
The Indians when on the hunting trail, and es¬
pecially when they are desirous to surprise bufialo,
travel with extreme care. The scent of the buffaloes
is very subtle, especially when they are to windward ;
though, curiously enough, they frequent the same
pasture as the elks, they have no communion with
them ; still they do not seem at all disturbed by each
other ; or the buffaloes, whose sight is not very good
form a sort of partnership with the elks, whom they
convert into their sentinels. They are watchful sen¬
tinels too, and, at the first suspicious sign, give the
alarm; whereupon buffaloes and elks disappear in
company, escorted by the red prairie wolves, trouble-'
some followers that prowl round them, and whom they
can never succeed in getting entirely rid of.
Each night we encamped on a liill at no great dis¬
tance from a stream. The trees were felled round the
bivouacto guard us from a surprise ; the camp fires
were lighted, and the greater part of the night was
spent in relating hunting narratives and meriy storiea
A BUFFAIO HUNT.
329
recounted in turn, and which excited the heartiest
gaiety among the Eed-skins. .For we will remark, in
parenthesis, that the Indians, who are generally repre¬
sented as serious, cold, and stoical, on the contrary,
have a very jovial character ; a mere nothing makes
them laugh, and they indulge to their heart's content,
like all simple and primitive minds. Still, for all that,
they must he together, or in the company of people
they are well acquainted with. In the presence of
whites the difficulty they experience in making them¬
selves understood, and the respect—I might almost
say the instinctive terror—the formidable strangers
inspire them with, completely paralyzes their faculties,"
and makes them appear almost idiotic.
We marched thus with easy journeys, in order not
to tire our horses, in the direction of the Eocky
Mountains, for some fifty or sixty leagues, killing a few
prairie dogs, elks, and two or three striped sousliks
(ßpermophiluis Moodii). At times a covey of larks
rose at our approach, or crows and rooks appeared in
large numbers and settled down close to us.
Eagle-head would not consent to a halt for the
sake of killing a few isolated bufialoes we perceived in
the distance. We had still thirty miles to go before
getting up with our scouts, and finding ourselves in
the real hunting ground.
On the eighth day after leaving the village we
reached a creek which meandered through a plain, on
which the grass was extremely high, called, as far as
I can remember, by the Indians, Green Eiver. A rather
330
A. BUFFAIO nUNT.
tall hill, situated on its banh, concealed our presence,
and sheltered us from the wind.
Eagle-head gave orders to camp. The horses were
allowed to graze, and a fire of hois de vache was lighted
to roast a few ducks and two elks that composed our
breakfast.
This stream, owing to the advanced season, was
nearly dry, and filled with tall, closely-growing weeds.
After a two hours' halt we continued our march, pass¬
ing over gently-sloping hüls, and we found a few of
some height, behind which herds of buffalo are
usually found. Before reaching the top, our party
traversed a small valley filled with a narrow strip of
beech trees, elms, and nyundos, between clumps of
roses, prunus padres, and a few other shrubs, whUe
the wüd vine {clematis) hung in festoons about the
trees.
On reaching the top of the last moimd we halted,
and a singular scene, which was not without some
wild grandeur, was suddenly offered to our sight.
All the crests of the hiUs, as far as sight could ex¬
tend, were crowned by the scouts sent ahead, and
who, motionless as statues of Elorentine bronze, stood
out boldly in the blue sky.
These scouts were not seated in the saddle, but
standing on it, holding in the left hand their buf¬
falo robes, which they at times waved, and in their
right their clubs, which they employed to indicate
certain points of the horizon. At our feet,in an im¬
mense vaUey intersected by a large river, whose nume-
A BUFÍAIiO HUNT.
331
TOUS capacious windings resembled a silver thread,
a multitude of blact spots spotted the tall grass.
These points, which were almost imperceptible
owing to the great distance, were buffaloes : we had at
last reached the hunting ground. , But the day was too
far advanced for us to dream of following the animals,
and hence the chief gave the signal for camping.
The night was calm, and was spent like the pre¬
vious ones, in outbursts of the fi'ankest and heartiest
gaiety, and at sunrise we were all up and ready to
begin the hunt. The scouts were still at their posts,
and it might fairly be supposed that during the
whole night they had not ceased to watch the game.
Eagle-head got on the back of his horse, and fired a
musket loaded only with powder, in order to attract
the attention of the scouts. Then a singular scene
took pl^e, which offered me much to think about,
and proved to me once again that the Eed-skins are
neither so savage nor unintelligent as some writers
are pleased to represent them. '
By the aid of the buffalo robe he held in his
hand and waved in every direction, the sachem be¬
gan a series of complicated signals, which would have
turned the most expert of our telegraphers pale if
called Hipon to interpret, for they were transmitted
with headlong speed, and instantly comprehended
by the sachem and the scouts.
Eagle-head, according to the information he re¬
ceived, sent off every moment parties of hunters,.for
the purpose, as I afterwards learned, of completely
332
A BUFFALO HUNT.
surrounding the buffaloes, and driving them to the
middle of the valley. The hunters picked out started
at once at fuU speed, galloping in a bee-line, according
to the Indian fashion, leaping over all obstacles, and
.never deviating from the direct course.
Ere long only ten hunters, among whom my com¬
panions and myself were, remained with the chief
He gave a final signal, which was immediately re¬
peated by all the sentries, got into his saddle, and
uttered his war-yell. He then dashed at full speed
down into the plain, with the rapidity of an- ava¬
lanche, and this manœuvre was imitated by the
other hunters scattered over the adjacent heights.
The hunt, or more correctly, the butchery, had
begun.
The Comanches possess such skiU in this horse-
hunting, that, in spite of the diflSculty in killing a
buffalo, they rarely fire more than one round at it.
Singularly enough, they do not raise the gun to the
shoulder, but stretch out both arms, and fire, in this
far from usual posture, when they are some fifteen or
twenty yards from the animal.
They load the gun with incredible speed, for they
do not use the ramrod, but let the bullets, of which
they always keep a certain number in their mouths,
fall immediately on the powder, to which it adheres,
and which expels it again at the same moment.
Owing to this great speed, the prairie-hunters, in a
little while, make a frightful massacre in a herd of
buffaloes, and this time two-thirds of the manada
A BUFFALO HUNT.
333
wcro killed, and the animals covered the battle-field
in heaps.
The buffaloes, enclosed in a circle whence they
could not escape, terrified by the yells of the hunters,
who dashed at them from all sides, brandishing their
weapons, and waving their robes, fled in all direc¬
tions, at a pace greater than I could have imagined,
judging from their enormous bulk.
Belhumeur and I had settled on to an old buffalo,
who gave us plenty of work. Several point-blank
shots had not proved sufficient to check his pace. He
frequently stopped, threw the earth over his head
with a convulsive movement, after digging it up with
his fore-feet, assumed a menaeing attitude, and even
pursued us for some ten or fifteen yards. But wo
easily got away, and the restless animal discontinued
its mad and purposeless chase so soon as we stopped
resolutely before it. Its strength was at length ex¬
hausted, but it did not succumb until we had given
it at least twenty bullets.
This first success gave me a liking for the sport,
and the whole time the hunt lasted I was one of the
most eager in pursuit. At last, at the expiration of
three days. Eagle-head ordered the end of the mas¬
sacre. Obeying the chief's signal, the hunters forced
open a large gap, through which the decimated relics
of the unhappy herd dashed, lowing with terror.
Two hundred and seventy buffaloes had been killed
in three days, an almost miraculous hunt, which se¬
cured the Comanchos of the Lakes abundance of pro-
834
A BUFFALO HUNT.
visions during the rainy season. The victims wore
loaded on horses, and we gaily returned to the vil¬
lage, where the hunters were received on their arrival
with marks of the liveliest joy and the extraordinary
rejoicings usual on such occasions.
One last remark may he allowed me. Everything
is valuable in the buffalo : the meat, the hide, the
bones, the horns, and even the hair, which is made
into hats comparable in beauiy and substance to the
best beaver. Why is not the buffalo, then, acclimatised
in Europe? The Society of Acclimatisation so re¬
cently created, and whieh has abeady produced such
excellent results, is keeping, we doubt not, a place for
the buffalo, which we hope soon to see occupied.
A lUSTANG.
A STUDY OF THE PRAIRIE HORSE.
—t—
Tue aborigines of America were not acquainted with
the horse prior to the arrival of the Spaniards in their
country. The Inca Garcillasso de la Vega, in his
" History of the Civil War in India," tells us that the
Peruvians, terrified at the sight of the first horseman,
supposed that the man and the horse only formed one
aud the same individual. At a later date they
imagined that thè horses were formidable and malig¬
nant deities, whom they tried to conciliate by placing
gold and silver in their mangers, and offering up
prayers to them.
The Spanish Conquistadors, most of whom came
from Andalusia, were mounted on steeds in whose
veins flowed the blood of the Arabs, which the MoOiS
had succeeded in naturalizing in Spain during an
occupation of eight centuries.
When the conquerors obtained quiet possession
336
A MÜSTANG.
of the Few World, and began those înternccîne con¬
tests which cost so mnch blood, after every battle the
wonnded horses were nsnally left behind, while those
whose masters were killed, escaped in obedience to
that innate instinct in all living creatures, which
urges them to try and regain their liberty.
These aniixials thus left to themselves, wandering
hap-hazard over the great savannahs, gradually
entered the desert, interbred, and at length multi¬
plied so greatly that they formed bands or manadas,
whose number has so increased that it has now be¬
come incalculable.
From these horses, which were originally aban¬
doned and returned to savage life, has issued the re¬
markable breed known in the New World by the name
of mustangs, or prairie horses. Now that racing is
fashionable in France, and horse breeding has made
immense progress, we do not think we are going out
of our way in describing this valuable breed, which is
unknown in the Old World, and to which sufficient
justice is not done even in America.
At the time when I was at Guaymas, during the
expedition of the unhappy^Coxmt de Raousset Boulbon
I wanted a horse. Copers are as numerous in Mexico
as in Europe, and probably cleverer and more cunning
than ours in disguising the vices and defects of the
animals they wish to get rid of ; but unluckily for
these clever dealers, and luckily for me, my long stay
among the Indians of the Western Prairies had given
me an almost infallible perception, and rendered it
A HVSTAKO.
337
extremely difficult to deceive mo as to tlie qualities of
a horse.
When my wish to purchase a horse was known,
there was an extraordinary rush of dealers to the house
where I put up. I peremptorily declined all the
animals offered me. My friends began to joke me and
say that I should not hud a horse to suit me, and be
compelled to follow on foot the cavalry corps I com¬
manded, when, on the very eve of departure, I was
walking accidentally on the beach, and saw an
Hiaquis Indian ' a few yards ahead of me, mounted
on a horse whose appearance, in my friends' sight,
had nothing very inviting about it, and so they
laughingly invited me to deal. I feigned to humour
them, although I had at once recognized the animal
as a mustang of the Far West, and I took them at
their word by making the Indian a sign to come and
speak to me.
The horse was not handsome, I must allow ; he was
rather tall, had a big head, and around forehead ; his
mane, which was thick and ül-kempt, hung down to
Ids chest ; his tail, which was not thick enough to
wave, almost swept the ground ; but his chest was
wide and his legs were firm, while his eyes and nostrils
announced fire, vigour, and bottom. Although the
animal had never been shod, and its master, lilm all the
Indians, had ill-treated it during the long journey'it
had made to reach Guaymas, still its thick hoofs
were not at all worn or even damaged. It was black
as night, with a white star about the size of a piastre,
z
338
A MÜSTAUG.
perfectly designed, and situated in the exact centre of
the forehead.
At my summons the Indian started the'horse at a
gallop, and came up to me. I asked him bluntly if
he wanted to sell his horse.
" Why not, excellency ?" he answered with the
wink peculiar to the Hiaquis. "Negro is a good
beast; I lassoed him myself in the heart of the
prairies of the Sierra de San Saba, hardly a month
agone, and he has constantly gone fifteen to sixteen
leagues a-day."
" Yes, yes," I answered in Indian, " I know all
that ; but I know too that you Hiaquis are clever horse
dealers, and are perfectly up to the trick of dressing
a horse for sale."
On hearing me speak his language^ the Red-skin,
who was, moreover, deceived by myhunting garb, took
me for a wood-ranger, and immediately treated mo
with great respect.
" Your excellency will- try Negro, if it be really
your pleasure to buy," he said, at once reassuming
the language of his tribe, instead of the Spanish he
had hitherto employed.
" But," I continueti, " supposing that Negro, as
that is his name, suits me, I must know the price you
want for him."
" Wah !" he said, with a cunning smile; " I will
not let your excellency have Negro under two ounces,
and any one else would pay much more."
Two ounces are about six guineas of our money.
A MUSTANG.
839
so if I tad judged the horse aright, it was plain that
I should make a good bargain. I made an appoint¬
ment with the Hiaquis for the next morning, and
withdrew under the ironical congratulations of my
friends npon my excellent acqnisition.
The Indian was pxmctual. At daybreak I saw
him at my door, mounted on another horse, and
holding Negro by the bridle. I immediately got into
the saddle, and left Guaymas, accompanied by my
Eed-skin, and started at a smart trot for the forest.
I soon perceived that Negro was a very easy
goer, and that he did not tire, though he was veiy
eager—excellent qualities in a charger. Moreover,
I saw that, like all prairie horses, whose mouth is
generally hard, he was very sensitive to the spur.
The expedition of which I had the honour to be
a member was about to proceed into half savage
countries, where roads have never existed, and we
should have to go across sandy deserts, and through
almost impassable virgin forests ; hence I wished to
know at once what help I had to expect from my
horse, and what confidence I cOuld place in him.
I therefore resolved to make him leap a stream
several feet in width. For this purpose I gave him
his head, and pressed his flanks with my knees
without spurring ; the intelligent animal seemed
to understand that it was on trial, and leapt over
the obstacle with the agility of an antelope. I turned
round, and tried the leap over and over again, always
with the same result. Certain of his agility, I wished
840
A MUSTANO.
to try his strength, consequently I took him to a
muddy and very difficult morass. Negro, however,
entered it, smelling the water as if to judge its depth,
a proof of sagacity and prudence with which I was
greatly pleased, and I found him prompt and de¬
cided in the wheels and counterwheels I made him
take.
I had still an experiment to make with Negro—
could he swim ?
During the course of my travels, I have seen ex¬
cellent horses, which could not swim at all ; they lay
down on their side as if to float with the current, so
that their rider was obliged to swim himself and take
them to bank, unless he preferred to leave them to
their fate, which is a veiy serious difficulty when tra¬
velling. As a rather wide and very rapid stream ran
not far from us, I rode my horse right into it ; he at
once took the current obliquely, with bead well raised
above the surface, and dilated nostrils, though with¬
out making that painful snort peculiar to horses under
such circumstances ; for, on the contrary, he breathed
regularly and without fatigue. He went up and down
the stream, and when I at last guided him to land, he
stopped of his own accord and shook the water offi
Convinced, after all these experiments, that I
could without risk undertake the campaign with such
a steed, I started back for Guaymas at a gallop. On
the road I brought down a duck, which Negro went up
to as if trained for shooting, and which I picked up
without dismounting.
A UCSTÂ^S. 3ál
I immediately gave the two otmces to the Hiaquis,
and leaving my friends to continue their jokes about
my acquisition, I rubbed Negro down with the
greatest care.
On the same day the expedition left Guaymas for
Hermosillo, and in spite of his savage ways and rather
seedy appearance, the qualities of my mustang were
soon appreciated, as they deserved to be, by my com¬
panions, whose domestic horses were far from coming
up to him.
I went through the whole campaign mounted on
Negro, allowing him no other food beyond the
prairie grass, green alfalfa, and climbing peas, or a
few hen's eggs, when I could procure them, or a
gourd ; still, every morning, two hours before mount¬
ing, I was careful to rub him down and press his back
with my hand, to assure myself that he was not
grazed by the saddle, after which I threw over him
a scrape folded double. At night, before going to
sleep, I washed him, threw a bucket of cold water
over his back, looked at his feet and cleaned them
out with the utmost caution.
At the end of the first week, Negro had grown so
attached to me that he recognized my voice and
obeyed me with extreme docility; to make him gallop
I only required to bend slightly forward.
When the campaign was ended, instead of em¬
barking at Guaymas for California, after the fashion
of my comrades, I started for Apacheria, where I
spent several months. After that I proceeded to
842
A MÜSTASG.
Ve^ra Cruz, crossing Mexico in its widest part. I
thns rode my horse, without allowing him a single
day's rest, about nine hundred and fifty leagues, cal¬
culated at nearly forty-five miles a-day, and my
mustang was as fresh and healthy on his arrival as
when he started.
No European horse would be capable of accom¬
plishing such a feat, which I assert, without fear of
contradiction, is only child's play for a mustang of
the prairies. Negro is in no way put forward here as
a lype of his breed, and had no striking quality to
recommend him ; he was certainly a good horse, but
fill'his companions in the prairies resemble him, and
are quite as good as he.
At my last halt, before reaching Vera Cruz, where
I intended to embark for France, I found a Mexican
ofScer, either colonel or general, I forget which, but
his name was Don Pedro Aguirre, stopping at the
same meson, and we left it together in the morning
en route for Vera Cruz.
Señor Don Pedro Aguirre was mounted on a mag^
nificent steed, which, he told me, and it was very pro¬
bable, had cost him four hundred piastres—according
to the Mexican fashion his assistente led a second horse
by the bridle.
I complimented the colonel on his splendid horse,
to which compliment he rephed,rather cavalierly,while
taking a contemptuous glance at Negro, that he
wished I had a similar one, so that he might have en¬
joyed my society during the ride to Vera Cruz.
■ A MüSTAWe, 343
I made no retort, although somewhat vexed at
this answer, and confined myself to asking him at
what hour he expected to reach the port ?
" Sufficiently long before you, señor," he said with
a smile, "to have leisure to order supper at the
hotel, on condition that you will consent to join me
at it."
I bowed my thanks, while laughing in my sleeve
at the bombastic confidence of the Mexican officer,
and the trick I was going to play him. After a part¬
ing bow, Don Pedro made his horse curvet, dug in
his spurs, and started. Dut, alas ! it was lost trouble;
I arrived five quarters of an hour before him at
Vera Cruz ; I ordered dinner ; I put my steed in the
corral, and stationed myself in the doorway of the
hotel, where, when the colonel arrived, quite
downcast by his defeat, I told him, with a cun¬
ning look, that I was only waiting for him to
dine.
Still, I am bound to say, in praise of the colonel,
that he took the joke very kindly, and when his first
impulse of ill-humour had passed off, frankly com¬
plimented me on the excellence of my horse.
A few days later, overcome by the entreaties of
Don Pedro, I consented, not without regret, to part
with poor Negro, and let the colonel have him, for
the comparatively enormous sum of seven hundred
and fifty piastres ; but, alas ! I was going to em¬
bark for Prance the next week, and my horse had
become useless for me.
8^:4 A MCSTA^'O.
_ I am convinced ttat the introdnction of this^
'breed of the Western Prairies into onr stnd stables>
)
wonld serve greatly to improve onr horses, and-\
that the majority of them wonld become first-rate^
^ racers.
IHS EM>.
843.8 A294
3 5556 007 890 510
'hifon» Volumeg, Omamental Boards, price 2#.
AIMARD'S I
Oak Grove Library Center
1. PRAIRIE FLOWE4».
2. INDIAN SCOUT. ^
3 5556 007 890510
1. TRAPPERS OP ARKANSAS.
2. BORDER RIFLES.
3. FREEBOOTERS.
4. WHITE SCALPER.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
NB
ADVE NTURERS.—A Story of a Low Chase. |
PE VRL OF THE ANDES.
TRAIL HUNTER.-A Tale of the Far Wes^
PIRATES OF THE PRAIRIES.
TRAPPER'S DAUGHTER.
TIGER SLAYER.—A Tale of the Indian
GOLD SEEKERS.—A Tale of California.
INDIAN CHIEF.—The Story fi a Revolnt
RED TRACK.—A Story of Soäal Life in He:^
Each }'jok is complete in itself ; hut v\ st pleas^vrs is derived
ih-e Idles os-numhereeL,
LAST OF THE INCAS.—A Romance of the
QUEEN OF THE SAVANNAH,
BUCCANEER CHIEF.
STRONGHAND. A Tale of the Disnherited.
SMUGGLER CHIEF.
REBEI; CHIEF.- A Tale of öuerilla Life.
NC TICE. GUST.^ "if- ÂIH.VBL ws the adopted eon oí oa» of rh
erftil Indian trib«, witl who!., he lived for more than fifteen pears,]
of the Prairies, sharing their dangers and their combats, and
them everywhere, rifle in one hand and tomahawh Bt the ot
squatter, hunter, trapoer, warrior, ^d miner, Gustave Aimard
America from the highest peaks of the Cordilleru to the oeean
from hand to mouth, happy for the day, careless of the morij
it is that Gnsta.e Aimard only describes his own life. Thif
whom ne speakj he has known—the manners he depicts arrdiis on
OT nvaaa. ueuvsi an ramaB, saanat ooimi, sum 1