CHAPTER V.THE WORK OF THE NORTHER
During the rest of that day and the earlier part of the next the weather continued fairly good, and the unloading went steadily on. In the many intervals of his duties, Ned tried hard to drive his mental fever away, and amused himself as best he might. The city itself was worth looking at, with its tiers of streets rising one above another from the shore. He saw several churches, and some of them were large, with massive towers and steeples.
“The Mexicans must have been richer than they are now,” he said to himself, “when those things were built. They cost piles of money.”
He had no idea how rich a country it is, or how much richer it might be, if its wonderful natural resources were to be made the most of. As for the city, he had heard that Vera Cruz contained aboutseven or eight thousand people, besides its military garrison, its foreigners, and a continually varying mob of transient visitors from the interior. Zuroaga had told him, moreover, that it was from the latter that any gringo like himself would be in danger of violence. They were a vindictive, bloodthirsty class of men, most of them, for they retained undiminished the peculiar characteristics of their Indian ancestors.
“I don’t care to run against any of them,” thought Ned. “I don’t like thistierra calientecountry, anyhow. It’s too hot to live in.”
Then he thought a great deal of the wonderful land of forests and mountains which lay beyond the fever-haunted lowlands, and he longed more and more for a good look at the empire which Hernando Cortes won from the old Montezumas and their bloody war-god, Huitzilopochtli.
In the afternoon of the second day the sky was manifestly putting on a threatening aspect. The wind began to rise and the sea began to roughen. The men discharging the cargo hastened their work, and it was evident that the last of the lighter barges would soon be setting out for the shore. Ned was staring at them and recalling allthe yarns he had heard concerning the destructive power of a gulf “norther,” when Captain Kemp came walking slowly toward him, with a face which appeared to express no sort of unusual concern for anything in the world. Nevertheless, he said:
“Get ready now, Ned, as sharp as you can. There comes your boat. I shall send some papers by the colonel. Señor Zuroaga’s luggage all went on shore yesterday. I think some other men will have to be looking out for themselves before long. If theGoshawkshould drag her anchors and go ashore, I hope there won’t be too much sea running for good boats to live in.”
“I’m all ready now!” exclaimed Ned, as he sprang away, but he went with a curious question rising in his mind: “What if a cable were more’n half cut through? Wouldn’t it be likely to break and let go of an anchor, if it were pulled at too hard by a gale of wind? I don’t really know anything about it, but Señor Zuroaga thinks that Captain Kemp is a curious man to deal with. Father thinks that he is a good sailor, too.”
All the wardrobe that Ned had on board was easily contained in a waterproof satchel of moderate size, and he was half-glad nowthat there was no more of it, it went so quickly over into the large yawl that was waiting alongside when he returned on deck. It was a four-oared boat, and Colonel Tassara, at the stern, beckoned to him without speaking, as if he might have reasons for silence as well as haste.
“In with you, Ned,” said Captain Kemp. “I’ll try to see you within a day or two. Take good care of yourself. Good day, colonel.”
The Mexican officer only bowed, and in a moment more the yawl was fighting her difficult way over the rapidly increasing waves, for the first strength of the norther had really come, and there might soon be a great deal more of it,—for the benefit of theGoshawk.
“There!” muttered Captain Kemp, as he saw them depart, “I haven’t more than a good boat’s crew left on board. We’ll take to the life-boat as soon as the cable parts. There isn’t any use in trying to save this bark under all the circumstances. I’ve done my duty. I couldn’t have calculated on heavy shot first, and then for a whole gang of cruisers watching for me off the coast. This ’ere norther, too! Well, I didn’t make the war, and I don’t see thatI ought to lose any money by it. I won’t, either.”
Whatever was his exact meaning, the mate and four other men who remained evidently agreed with him, from what they were shortly saying to one another. It might also have been taken note of by a careful observer that the mate was a Scotchman, and that the four others were all from Liverpool. Whoever had put so much contraband of war on board theGoshawkhad not entrusted it entirely to the eccentricities of a lot of out-and-out American sailors, with peculiar notions concerning their flag.
On went Colonel Tassara’s yawl, and it was not likely to meet any other boat that evening. As the rollers increased in size momentarily, Ned began to have doubts as to whether such a boat had any reasonable hope of reaching the shore. It was now pitch-dark also, and he could but feel that his adventures in Mexico were beginning in a remarkably unpleasant manner. The landing could not have been made at any place along the beach, where the surf was breaking so dangerously, and it looked almost as perilous to approach the piers and wharves.
“How on earth are we to do it?” exclaimedNed, in English, but no answer came from the hard-breathing rowers.
Colonel Tassara seemed now to be steering a southerly course, instead of directly landward, and Ned calculated that this would carry them past all of the usual landing-places. It also gave them narrow escapes from rolling over and over in the troughs between several high waves. On the whole, therefore, it was a pretty rough boating excursion, but it was not a long one. It did take them almost past the city front, and at last Ned thought he saw a long, black shadow reaching out at the boat. It was better than a shadow, for it was a long wooden pier, old enough to have been built by Cortes himself. The waves were breaking clean over it, but, at the same time, it was breaking them, so that around in the lee of it the water was less boisterous, and the yawl might reach the beach in safety. There was no wharf, but all Ned cared for was that he saw no surf, and he felt better than he had at any moment since leaving theGoshawk. It was the same, for they said so, emphatically, with the boatmen and Colonel Tassara.
“One of the men will take your bag,” said the colonel to Ned, as soon as they were out on shore. “We will go rightalong to my house, and we shall hardly meet anybody just now. I’m glad of that. Santa Maria, how dark it is getting! This will be the worst kind of norther.”
A couple of lanterns had been taken from the boat. They had previously been lighted by the colonel with much difficulty, and without them it would have been impossible to follow the stony, grassy pathway by which Ned Crawford made his first invasion of the Mexican territory. He did not now feel like annexing any of it, although Mexican patriots asserted that their title to Vera Cruz or the city of Mexico itself was no better than their right to Texas. His gloomy march was a short one, and only a few shadowy, unrecognized human beings passed him on the way.
The party came to a halt before a one-story stone dwelling, with a long piazza in front of it, close to the weedy sidewalk of a crooked and straggling street. It was apparent that this was not in the aristocratic quarter of the city, if it had one. A door in the middle of the house swung open as they arrived, and the boatman who carried Ned’s bag put it down on the threshold. The lanterns went away with him and his fellow rowers, but other lights made their appearance quickly,—after thedoor had closed behind Ned and Colonel Tassara. Not one of the boat’s crew had obtained a peep into the house, or had seen any of its occupants. Ned was now aware that he had entered a broad hall-like passageway, which appeared to run through the house, and to have several doors on each side. One of these doors had opened to let the new light in, and through it also came Señor Zuroaga, two other men, and a young girl, who at once threw her arms around the neck of Colonel Tassara.
“O father!” she exclaimed, “I am so glad! Mother and I were so frightened! We were afraid you would be drowned.”
“My dear little daughter,” he responded, sadly, “I fear there will be more than one lot of poor fellows drowned to-night. This storm is fearful!”
It seemed, in fact, to be getting worse every minute, and Ned was thinking of theGoshawkand the state of her cable, even while he was being introduced to the pretty Señorita Felicia Tassara, and then to her mother, a stately woman, who came to meet her husband without condescending to say how badly she had been alarmed on his account.
“She’s just about the proudest-looking woman I ever saw,” thought Ned, for, althoughshe welcomed him politely, she at once made him aware that she did not consider him of any importance whatever. He was only a young gringo, from nobody knew where, and she was a Mexican lady of high rank, who hated Americans of all sorts.
Ned’s only really hearty greeting came from Señor Zuroaga, who seemed to him, under the circumstances, like an old friend.
“Carfora, my dear fellow,” he said, “you and the colonel must come in to your supper——”
“Why, señor,” expostulated Ned, “I’m wet through, and so is he.”
“I declare!” exclaimed Zuroaga. “What’s in my head that I should overlook that? You must change your rig. Come this way with me.”
Ned followed him, bag in hand, through a narrow passage which opened at the right, and they went on almost to the end of it. The room which they then entered was only seven feet wide, but it was three times as long, and it was oddly furnished. Instead of a bedstead, a handsome hammock, with blankets, sheets, and a pillow in it, hung at one side, and the high window was provided with mosquito nettings. There was no carpet on the floor, but thiswas clean, and a good enough dressing-bureau stood at the further end of the room. Before the mirror of this, the señor set down the lamp he had been carrying, and said to Ned:
“My dear Carfora, I have explained to the haughty señora that you are the son of an American merchant, and of a good family, so that she will not really treat you like a common person. She is descended from the oldest families of Spain, and there is no republicanism in her. The sooner you are ready, the better. I will be back in five minutes.”
Open came the bag, but the best Ned could do in the way of style was a very neat blue suit. What he would have called the swallow-tails, which Señora Tassara might have expected as the dinner dress of a more important guest, could hardly be required of a young fellow just escaped from a norther. As soon as he felt that he had done his best, he turned toward the door, but it opened to let in Señor Zuroaga in full regulation dinner costume. How he could have put it on so quickly puzzled Ned, but he asked no questions. It was quite possible, however, that even the descendant of Cortes and the Montezumas was a little bit in awe of the matronlydescendant of the ancient Spanish grandees. She might be a powerful personage in more ways than one. At all events, Ned was led out to the central hall and across it, to where an uncommonly wide door stood open, letting out a flood of illumination.
“Walk in, señors,” said Colonel Tassara, from just inside this portal, and the next moment Ned was altogether astonished.
He had been impressed, on reaching this house, that it was an old and even dingy affair, of no considerable size, but he did not yet know that the older Spanish mansions were often built with only one story and around a central courtyard. Moreover, at least in Mexico, they were apt to show few windows in front, and to be well calculated for use as a kind of small forts, if revolutionary or similar occasions should ask for thick walls, with embrasures for musketry. One glance around Señora Tassara’s dining-room was enough to work a revolution in Ned’s ideas relating to that establishment. It was large, high-ceilinged, and its carpetless floor was of polished mahogany. The walls and ceiling were of brilliant white stucco. Upon the former were hung several trophies of weapons and antlers of deer. In the centre, at the right, in a kind of ornamental shrine,was an ivory and ebony crucifix, which was itself a priceless work of art. The long dining-table had no cloth to conceal the fact that it was of the richest mahogany, dark with age and polished like a mirror. On the table was an abundance of fine china ware, none of it of modern manufacture, but all the more valuable for that reason. At the end nearest Ned stood a massive silver coffee-urn, beautifully molded, and it was not wonderful that he stood still a moment to stare at it, for it had taken him altogether by surprise.
Almost instantly a change came over the dark, handsome features of Señora Tassara. She smiled brightly, for Ned’s undisguised admiration of that mass of silver had touched her upon a tender spot, and she now spoke to him with at least four times as much cordiality as she had shown him in the hall.
“Ah, my young friend,” she said, turning gracefully toward him, “so you are pleased with my coffee-urn? No table in your city of New York can show anything like it. It is of the oldest Seville workmanship, and there are not many such remaining in all the world. It is an heirloom.”
“Señor Carfora,” at that moment interrupted Colonel Tassara, “I will show yousomething else that is worth more than any kind of silver ware. Take a good look at this!”
He stepped to a trophy of arms which hung upon the wall near him, and took from it a long, heavy sword, with a worn-looking but deeply chased gold hilt. He drew it from the sheath, gazing with evident pride at its curving blade of dull blue steel.
“I think you have never before seen a sword like that,” he said. “It may have been made at Toledo, for all I know, but it is centuries old. It was won from a Moor by an ancestor of mine, at the taking of Granada, when the Moorish power was broken forever by the heroes of Spain. Who can tell? It may have come down from the days of the Cid Campeador himself.”
Whoever that military gentleman may have been, Ned had no idea, but he determined to find out some day, and just now he was glad to grasp the golden hilt, and remember all that he had ever heard about the Moors. He had not at all expected to hear of them again, just after escaping from a norther in the Gulf of Mexico, but, without being aware of it, he was learning a great deal about the old Spanish-Mexicanaristocracy, and why it could not easily become truly republican, even in the New World, which is beginning to grow old on its own account.
Dinner was now ready, and Ned voted it a prime good one, for it consisted mainly of chicken, with capital corn-cakes and coffee. It was a tremendous improvement upon the dinners he had been eating at sea, cooked in the peculiar style of the caboose of theGoshawk.
One large idea was becoming firmly fixed in the acute mind of the young adventurer, and it tended to make him both watchful and silent. Not only was he in a country which was at war with his own, but he was in a land where men were apt to be more or less suspicious of each other. It was also quite the correct thing in good manners for him to say but little, and he was the better able to hear what the others were saying. Therefore, he could hardly help taking note that none of the party at the dinner-table said anything about the powder on theGoshawk, or concerning a possible trip to be made to Oaxaca by any one there. They all appeared ready, on the other hand, to praise the patriotism, statesmanship, and military genius of that truly great man, President Paredes. They madeno mention whatever of General Santa Anna, but they spoke confidently of the certainty with which Generals Ampudia and Arista were about to crush the invading gringos at the north, under Taylor. They also were sure that these first victories were to be followed by greater ones, which would be gained by the President himself, as soon as he should be able to take command of the Mexican armies in person. If any friend of his, a servant, for instance, of the Tassara family, had been listening, he would have had nothing to report which would have made any other man suppose that the rulers of Mexico had bitter, revengeful foes under that hospitable roof.
The dinner ended, and Ned was once more in his room, glad enough to get into his hammock and go to sleep. If the norther did any howling around that house, he did not hear it, but he may have missed the swing motion which a hammock obtains on board a ship at sea. His eyes closed just as he was thinking:
“This is great, but I wonder what on earth is going to happen to me to-morrow.”
CHAPTER VI.FORWARD, MARCH
The sun of the next morning arose upon a great deal of doubt and uncertainty in many places. Some of the soldiers of General Taylor’s army were altogether uncertain into what bushes of the neighboring chaparral the norther had blown their tents, and they went out in search of their missing cotton duck shelters. The entire force encamped at the Rio Grande border was in the dark as to what it might next be ordered to do, and all sorts of rumors went around from regiment to regiment, as if the rumor manufacturer had gone crazy. General Taylor himself was sure of at least the one point, that he had no right to cross the muddy river in front of him and make a raid into Mexico until he should hear again from the government at Washington, and be officially informed that the war, which he was carrying on so well, had really begun. He and all hisarmy believed that it was already going on, and they grumbled discontentedly that they were compelled to remain in camp, and watch for ranchero lancers on Texan soil, if it was legally Texan at all, until permission arrived to strike their tents and march forward.
The news of the fighting and of what were described as the great battles on the Mexican border had reached New Orleans and Key West. It was travelling northward at full speed, but it had not yet been heard by the government or by the people of the North and West. None of these had as yet so much as imagined what a telegraphic news-bringer might be, and so they could not even wish that they had one, or they would surely have done so. The uncertainties of that morning, therefore, hampered all the councils of the nation. Almost everybody believed that there would soon be a war, although a great many men were strongly opposed to the idea of having one. Taking the war for granted, however, there were doubts and differences of opinion among both military and unmilitary men as to how it was to be carried on. Some were opposed to anything more than a defence of the Rio Grande boundary-line, but these moderate persons were hootedat by the out-and-out war party, whom nothing promised to satisfy but an invasion which intended the capture of the city of Mexico. Nothing less than this, they said, would obtain the objects of the war, and secure a permanent peace at the end of it. Then, supposing such an invasion to be decided on, an important question arose as to how and where the Mexican territory might best be entered by a conquering army. Many declared that General Taylor’s forces were already at the right place for pushing ahead, but the commander-in-chief, General Winfield Scott, by all odds the best general the country possessed, responded that the march proposed for Taylor was too long, too difficult, and that it was likely to result in disaster. The shorter and only practicable route, he asserted, was by way of the sea and Vera Cruz. He was also known to be politically opposed to any war whatever. Thereupon, a number of prominent men, who disagreed with him, set themselves at work to have him removed or put aside, that a commander might take his place who was not so absurdly under the influence of military science, common sense, and of the troubles which might be encountered in marching seven hundred miles or more through an enemy’s country.There were, it was said, eloquent politicians, who did not know how to drill an “awkward squad,” but who felt sure of their ability to beat Old Scott in such an agreeable affair as a military picnic party to the city of Mexico.
The young military scholars in the camp near Fort Brown were ignorant of all this. They were satisfied with their present commander, as well they might be, for he was a good one. They were satisfied with themselves, and were enthusiastically ready to fight anything which should be put in front of them. They were dreadfully dissatisfied with camp life, however, and especially with the fact that they and all the other raw troops of that army were forced to undergo a great deal of drill and discipline in hot weather. Perhaps, if this had not been given them, they would hardly have rendered so good an account of themselves in the severe tests of soldiership which they underwent a few months later.
The first doubt that came to Ned Crawford that morning, as his eyes opened and he began to get about half-awake, related to his hammock and to how on earth he happened to be in it. Swift memories followed then of the norther, the perilous pull ashore, the arrival at the Tassara place, andthe people he had met there. He recalled also something about silver coffee-urns and Moorish warriors, but the next thing, he was out upon the floor, and his head seemed to buzz like a beehive with inquiries concerning his immediate future.
“Here I am,” he said aloud. “I’m in Mexico; in Vera Cruz; at this house with Señor Zuroaga; and I don’t know yet what’s become of theGoshawk. I don’t really ever expect to see her again, but I hope that Captain Kemp and the sailors didn’t get themselves drowned. I must see about that, first thing. Then I suppose I must see the American consul, write another letter home, see the merchants our goods were delivered to,—and what I’m to do after that I don’t know.”
There was a loud rap at his door just then, and in a moment more he was almost repeating that speech to Señor Zuroaga.
“Please say very little to Colonel Tassara or anybody else in this house,” replied the senor, emphatically. “Get used, as soon as you can, to being called Carfora. We must make you look like a young Mexican right away. I’ve bought a rig which will fit you. It is well that you are so dark-complexioned. A red-haired fellow would never pass as you will. All the Americanresidents of Vera Cruz are already under military protection, and I am glad there are so few of them, for there are said to have been two or three assassinations. Part of the mountain men who are loafing in town just now are wild Indians, as reckless and cruel as any of your Sioux warriors on a war-path. Come along to breakfast. You won’t meet the ladies this time, but I believe the señora and señorita like you a little, because you had the good taste to admire their silver and china.”
“Oh, that old coffee-urn!” said Ned. “Well, it’s as fine as anything I ever saw, even in a jewelry window.”
“Yes,” laughed the señor, “but the señora wants to have the American consul killed because he told her she had better have that thing melted and made over into one of the modern patterns. She will never forgive him. Tell her again, when you have a chance, that the old-time Seville silversmiths could beat anything we have nowadays, and she will love you. I do not really believe myself that we are getting much ahead of those ancient artists. They were wonderful designers.”
Ned was willing to believe that they were, and he made up his mind to praiseSeñora Tassara’s pet urn to the best of his ability.
He was not to have an opportunity for doing so immediately. Their breakfast was ready for them in the dining-room, but they were allowed to eat it by themselves. It seemed to Ned a very good one, but several times he found himself turning away from it to stare at the silver marvel and at the weapons on the walls. There was no apparent reason for haste, but neither of them cared to linger, and before long they were out on the piazza in front, Zuroaga with his hat pulled down to his eyes and his coat collar up. Ned was at once confirmed in his previous idea that the house was anything but new, and to that he added the conviction that it was much larger than it had appeared to be in the night. He believed, too, that it must have cost a deal of money to build it long ago. He had only a moment for that calculation, however, for his next glance went out toward the gulf, and he came near to being astonished. The path which he had followed in coming up from the shore had been a steep one, and he was now standing at a place from which he had a pretty good view of the tossing water between the mainland and the castle of San Juan de Ulua.The old fortress was there, unharmed by the norther, but not in any direction, as far as his eyes could reach, was there any sign of a ship, at anchor or otherwise.
“Señor!” he exclaimed. “What has become of them? They are all gone! Do you suppose they have been wrecked?”
“Not all of them, by any means,” replied the señor, but he also was searching the sea with a serious face. “As many as could lift their anchors in time to make a good offing before the norther came were sure to do so. If there were any that did not succeed, I can’t say where they may have gone to just now.”
“TheGoshawk—” began Ned, but the señor gripped his arm hard, while he raised his right hand and pointed up the road.
“Silence!” he commanded, in a sharp whisper. “Look! there he comes. Don’t even call him by his name. Wait and hear what he has to say. He can tell us what has become of the bark. They are a used-up lot of men.”
So they were, the five who now came walking slowly along from somewhere or other on the coast upon which the disastrous storm had blown.
“Captain Kemp and the crew of his life-boat,” thought Ned, but he obeyed theseñor at first, and was silent until the haggard-looking party arrived and came to a halt in front of him. Then, however, he lost his prudence for a moment, and anxiously inquired:
“Were any of you drowned?”
“Not any of us that are here,” responded the captain, grimly. “No, nor any other of theGoshawkmen, but there are more wrecks in sight below, and I don’t know how many from them got ashore. Our bark stranded this side of them, and she’s gone all to pieces. We took to the life-boat in time, but we’ve had a hard pull of it. We went ashore through the breakers, about six miles below this, and here we are, but I don’t want to ever pass such another night. I’m going on down to the consul’s now, to report, and Ned had better be there as soon as he can. Then, the sooner he’s out o’ Vera Cruz, the better for him and all of us.”
“I think so myself,” said Señor Zuroaga. “Don’t even stay here for breakfast. Nobody from here must come to the consul’s with Señor Carfora.”
“Of course not,” said the captain, wearily, and away he went, although Ned felt as if he were full to bursting with the most interesting kind of questions concerningthe captain’s night in the life-boat and the sad fate of the swift and beautifulGoshawk.
“Come into the house,” said the señor, “and put on your Mexican rig. I have a message from Colonel Guerra that we must get away to-night. I must not bring any peril upon the Tassara family. Up to this hour no enemy knows that I was a passenger on the powder-boat, as they call it.”
“All right,” said Ned. “I’ll write one more letter home. I couldn’t get out of the city in any other way just now, and I want to see Mexico.”
That idea was growing upon him rapidly, but his next errand was to the señor’s own room, to put on what he called his disguise. He followed his friend to a large, handsome chamber in the further end of the house, and, as he entered it, his first thought was:
“Hullo! are they getting ready for a fight?”
In the corners of the room and leaning against the walls here and there were weapons enough to have armed half a company of militia, if the soldiers did not care what kinds of weapons they were to carry, for the guns and swords and pistols were of all patterns except those of the present day. Ned saw at least one rusty firelock, whichput him in mind of pictures he had seen of the curious affairs the New England fathers carried when they went to meeting on Sunday. He had no time to examine them, however, for here were his new clothes, and he must be in them without delay. He admired each piece, as he put it on, and then one look into the señor’s mirror convinced him that he was completely disguised. He had been turned into a somewhat stylish young Mexican, from his broad-brimmed straw hat to his Vera Cruz made shoes. He still wore a blue jacket, but this one was short, round-cornered, and had bright silver buttons. His new trousers were wide at the bottoms, with silver-buttoned slashes on the outsides below the knees. He had not worn suspenders on shipboard, but now his belt was of yellow leather and needlessly wide, with a bright buckle and a sword-catch on the left side. As to this matter, the señor showed him a short, straight, wide-bladed sort of cutlas, which he called a machete.
“That is to be yours,” he said. “You need not carry it in town, but you will as soon as we get away. You will have pistols, too, and a gun. It won’t do to go up the road to Oaxaca unarmed. Now you maymake the best of your way to the consul’s, and I’ll stay here to finish getting ready.”
He appeared to be laboring under a good deal of excitement, and so, to tell the truth, was the disguised young American. Out he went into the hall, trying hard to be entirely collected and self-possessed, but it was only to be suddenly halted. Before him stood the stately Señora Tassara, and clinging to her was the very pretty Señorita Felicia, both of them staring, open-eyed, at the change in his uniform. The señorita was of about fourteen, somewhat pale, with large, brilliant black eyes, and she was a very frank, truthful girl, for she exclaimed:
“Oh, mother, do look at him! But it does not make a Mexican of him. He’s a gringo, and he would fight us if he had a chance. I want them all to be killed!”
“No, my dear,” said the señora, with a pleasant laugh. “Señor Carfora will not fight us. He and his ship brought powder for Colonel Guerra and the army. I am sorry he must leave us. You must shake hands with him.”
“Oh, no!” said the wilful Felicia, spitefully. “I don’t want to shake hands with him. He is one of our enemies.”
“No, I’m not!” stammered Ned. “But did you know that our ship was wrecked inthe norther? If you had been on board of her when she went ashore, you would have been drowned. The men in the life-boat had a hard time in getting ashore. I’m glad you were at home.”
“There, dear,” said her mother. “That is polite. You heard what Señor Zuroaga said about the wrecks. They were terrible! Can you not say that you are glad Señor Carfora was not drowned?”
“No, mother,” persisted Felicia. “I’ll say I wish he had been drowned, if—if he could have swum ashore afterward. Good enough for him.”
Señora Tassara laughed merrily, as she responded:
“You are a dreadfully obstinate young patriot, my darling. But you must be a little more gracious. The gringo armies will never come to Vera Cruz. They are away up north on the Rio Grande.”
“Well, mother, I will a little,” said the señorita, proudly. “Señor Carfora, your generals will be beaten all to pieces. You wait till you see our soldiers. You haven’t anything like them. They are as brave as lions. My father is a soldier, and he is to command a regiment. I wish I were a man to go and fight.”
Her eyes were flashing and she lookedvery warlike, but the only thing that poor Ned could think of to say just then was:
“Señora Tassara, if you are not careful, somebody will get in some day and steal your beautiful coffee-urn.”
“Ah me!” sighed the señora. “This has been attempted, my young friend. Thieves have been killed, too, in trying to carry off the Tassara plate. There would be more like it, in some places, if so much had not been made plunder of and melted up in our dreadful revolutions. Some of them were only great robberies. I understand that you must go to your business now, but we shall see you again this evening.”
“Good morning, Señora Tassara,” said Ned, as he bowed and tried to walk backward toward the outer door. “Good morning, Señorita Tassara. You would feel very badly this morning if you had been drowned last night.”
The last thing he heard, as he reached the piazza, was a ringing peal of laughter from the señora, but he believed that he had answered politely.
He knew his way to the office of the American consul, and the distance was not great in so small a town, but as he drew near it, he saw that there was a strong guard of soldiers in front of the building.They were handsomely uniformed regulars from the garrison of San Juan de Ulua, and there was cause enough for their being on duty. All up and down the street were scattered groups of sullen-looking men, talking and gesticulating. None of them carried guns, but every man of them had a knife at his belt, and not a few of them were also armed with machetes of one form or another. They would have made a decidedly dangerous mob against anything but the well-drilled and fine-looking guards who were protecting the consulate. Ned remembered what Felicia had said about her soldiers, and he did not know how very different were these disciplined regulars from the great mass of the levies which were to be encountered by the troops of the United States. He was admiring them and he was thinking of battles and generals, when one of the most ferocious-looking members of the mob came jauntily sauntering along beside him. He was a powerfully built man, almost black with natural color and sunburn. He was not exactly ragged, but he was barefooted, and his broad-brimmed sombrero was by no means new. A heavy machete hung from his belt, and he appeared to be altogether an undesirable new acquaintance. Ned looked upat him almost nervously, for he did not at all like the aspect of affairs in that street. He was thinking:
“I guess they were right about the excitement of the people. This isn’t any place for fellows like me. I must get out of Vera Cruz as soon as I can. It’s a good thing that I’m disguised. I must play Mexican.”
At that moment a good-natured smile spread across the gloomy face of his unexpected companion, and he said, in a low tone of voice:
“Say nothing, Señor Carfora. Walk on into the consulate. I belong to General Zuroaga. There are four more of his men here. We have orders to take care of you. You are the young Englishman that brought us the powder. There was not a pound to be bought in Vera Cruz, but some of those fellows would knife you for a gringo.”
"WE HAVE ORDERS TO TAKE CARE OF YOU"“WE HAVE ORDERS TO TAKE CARE OF YOU”
Quite a useless number of queer Spanish oaths were sprinkled in among his remarks, but Ned did not mind them. He only nodded and strictly obeyed the injunction against talking, even while he was asking himself how on earth his friend, the señor, ever became a general. He concluded, for the moment, that it might be a kind of militia title, such as he had heard of in the United States. However that might be, heand his guide soon reached the door of the consulate, and he himself was promptly admitted, as if the keeper of the door had been expecting to see him. There were guards inside the house as well as in the street, and they motioned Ned on through a narrow entry-way, at the end of which was an open room. He passed on into this, and the next moment he was exclaiming:
“Hullo, Captain Kemp! I’m so glad you are here! What am I to do next?”
“Almost nothing at all,” said the captain, quietly. “Just sign your papers and get away. The consul himself has gone to the city of Mexico, with United States government despatches for President Paredes, and we shall finish our business as easy as rolling off a log. You have nothing to do with the wrecking of theGoshawk, for you weren’t on board when she parted her cable. But just look at those people!”
Ned did so, for the room, a large and well-furnished office, was almost crowded with Americans of all sorts, mostly men, whose faces wore varied expressions of deep anxiety.
“What are they all here for?” asked Ned.
“Safety!” growled the captain. “And to inquire how and when they can find theirway out of this city of robbers. I hear that a whole regiment is to be on guard duty to-night, and that the mob is to be put down. If I ever see your father again, I’ll explain to him why I sent you away.”
Before Ned could make any further remarks, he was introduced to the vice-consul, a dapper, smiling little man, who did not appear to be in the least disturbed by his unpleasant surroundings. Almost a score of papers, larger and smaller, required the signature of the young supercargo of the unfortunateGoshawk. They were speedily signed, although without any clear idea in Ned’s mind as to what they all were for, and then Captain Kemp took him by the arm and led him away into a corner of the room.
“Ned, my boy,” he said, “you see how it is. You must keep away from the seacoast for awhile. After things are more settled, you can come back and get away on a British, or French, or Dutch vessel, if the port isn’t too closely blockaded. Whether I shall get out alive or not, I don’t know. You haven’t enough money. I’ll let you have a couple of hundred dollars more in Mexican gold. You’d better not let anybody suspect that you carry so much with you. This country contains toomany patriots who would cut their own President’s throat for a gold piece. Don’t ever show more than one shiner at a time, or you may lose it all.”
Ned took the two little bags that were so cautiously delivered to him, and while he was putting them away in the inner pockets of his jacket, his mind was giving him vivid pictures of the knives and machetes and their bearers, whom he had seen in the street.
“Captain,” he said, “those fellows out there wouldn’t wait for any gold. A silver dollar would buy one of them.”
“Half a dollar,” replied the captain. “Not one of them is worth a shilling. They ought all to be shot. But look here. I mustn’t come to Colonel Tassara’s place again. I find that he is under some kind of suspicion already, and President Paredes makes short work of men whom he suspects of plotting against him. Go! Get home!”
“That’s just about what I’d like to do,” said Ned to himself, as he hurried out of the consulate, but the next moment his courage began to come back to him, for here was Señor Zuroaga’s ferocious-looking follower, and with him were four others, who might have been his cousins or his brothers, from their looks, for they all were OaxacaIndians, of unmixed descent. Their tribe had faithfully served the children and grandchildren of Hernando Cortes, the Conquistador, from the day when he and his brave adventurers cut their way into the Tehuantepec valley.
CHAPTER VII.THE LAND OF THE MONTEZUMAS
“Father Crawford, do read that newspaper! The war has begun! They are fighting great battles on the Rio Grande! Oh, how I wish you hadn’t sent Ned to Mexico! He may get killed!”
She was a woman of middle age, tall, fine-looking, and she was evidently much excited. She was standing at one end of a well-set breakfast table, and was holding out a printed sheet to a gentleman who had been looking down at his plate, as if he were asking serious questions of it.
“My dear,” he said, as he took the paper, “I knew it was coming, but I didn’t think it would come so soon as this. I don’t really see that Ned is in any danger. Captain Kemp will take care of him.”
“But,” she said, “theGoshawkmay be captured.”
“No,” replied Mr. Crawford, confidently.“She hasn’t sailed across prairie to the Rio Grande. There won’t be any fighting at Vera Cruz for ever so long. There can’t be any on the sea, for Mexico has no navy. TheGoshawkis entirely safe, and so is Ned. It’ll be a grand experience for him.”
“I don’t want him to have so much experience at his age,” she said, anxiously. “I’d rather he’d be at home,—if there’s going to be a war.”
“I’ve often wished that I could see a war,” replied her husband, as he glanced over the black-typed headings of the newspaper columns. “I’ve travelled a good deal in Mexico, and I wanted Ned to learn all he could of that country. He will hardly have any chance to do so now.”
“He might see too much of it if he were taken prisoner,” she exclaimed. “I can’t bear to think of it! Oh, how I wish he were at home!”
Mr. Crawford was silent, and again he appeared to be thinking deeply. He was not a pale-faced man at any time, but now his color was visibly increasing. His face was also changing its expression, and it wore a strong reminder of the look which had come into his son Ned’s countenance when the fever of Mexican explorationtook hold of him. People say “like father, like son,” and it may be that Ned’s readiness for a trip into the interior belonged to something which had descended to him from a father who had been willing to educate his son for the southern trade by sending him to sea with Captain Kemp. The United States has had a great many commercial men of that stamp, and there was a time when almost all the navy the nation possessed was provided by the merchant patriots, who armed and sent out, or themselves commanded, its fleets of privateers. Very likely the Crawfords and a number of other American families could point back to as adventurous an ancestry as could any Spaniard whose forefathers had fought Moors or won estates for themselves in Mexico or Peru. As for Mrs. Crawford, she was hardly able to drink her coffee that morning, after reading the newspaper, and she might have been even more willing to have Ned come home if she had known what had become of theGoshawk, and in what company he was a couple of hours after she arose from her table.
Company? That was it. He was now walking along one of the streets of Vera Cruz with a squad of men of whom she would have decidedly disapproved, butwhose character her husband would have understood at sight. Ned’s first acquaintance, Pablo, as he called himself, with his four comrades, made up so thoroughly Mexican a party at all points that it was in no danger of being interfered with by the mob. Every member of this had seen, often enough, the son of some wealthy landholder from the upland country attended by a sufficient number of his own retainers to keep him from being plundered, and it was well enough to let him alone. On they went, but it was by a circuitous route and a back street that they reached the Tassara place. Even then, they did not enter it by the front door, but by a path which led down to the stables in the rear of the house. No outsider would afterward be able to say that he saw that party of men march into the courtyard to be welcomed by Colonel Tassara and the mysterious personage whom Ned was trying to think of as General Zuroaga.
“He may be of more importance than I had any idea of,” said Ned to himself, “and I wish I knew what was coming next.”
He was not to find out immediately, for Zuroaga motioned him to go on into the house, while he himself and Tassara remainedto talk with Pablo and the other machete-bearers.
Hardly was Ned three steps inside of the dwelling, when he was met by Señora Tassara, apparently in a state of much mental agitation.
“My dear young friend!” she exclaimed, “I am so glad you have escaped from them! Come in. We shall have no regular dinner to-day. You will eat your luncheon now, however. We are all busy packing up. We must set out for the country as soon as it is dark. The colonel’s enemies are following him like so many wolves! Felicia, my dear, you will see that Señor Carfora is properly attended to.”
The saucy señorita was standing a little behind her mother, and she now beckoned to Ned, as if she had no hostility for him whatever.
“Come right along in,” she said, peremptorily. “I must eat my luncheon, too. I want to hear where you have been, and what you have been doing. Is there any more news from the war? Have your gringo generals been beaten again? Tell me all you know!”
She was evidently in the habit of being obeyed by those around her, and Ned felt decidedly obedient, but this was his firstintimation that it was fully noon. Time had passed more rapidly than he had been aware of, for his mind had been too busy to take note of it. He was hungrily ready to obey, however, especially concerning the luncheon, and his first bit of news appeared to please his little hostess exceedingly.
“Not another ship is in,” he told her, “and I don’t believe there is going to be any war, anyhow, but I saw some of your soldiers. They were guarding the American consulate from the mob. They were splendid-looking fellows. Is your father’s regiment of that kind of men?”
“Father’s regiment?” she said, angrily. “That’s just the difficulty now. He hasn’t any soldiers. Those that he had were taken away from him. So he must go and gather some more, or President Paredes will say that he is not patriotic. They took his old regiment away from him after he had made it a real good one. Tell me about your gringo soldiers. Are there a great many of them? Do they know how to fight? I don’t believe they do.”
She was all on fire about the war and her father’s enemies, and Ned was ready to tell her all he knew of the American army, if not a little more. At least, hedescribed to her the elegant uniforms which were worn on parade occasions by the New York City militia regiments, feathers, flags, brass bands, and all, rather than the external appearance of any martial array that General Taylor was likely to take with him when he invaded Mexico. Felicia was especially interested in those magnificent brass bands and wished that she could have some of them taken prisoners to come and play in front of her house, but all the while they were talking he was glancing furtively around the room. This had undergone a remarkable change during his brief absence. The trophies of arms were all gone, and the wonderful Seville coffee-urn had disappeared. Perhaps it had walked away, beyond the reach of possible thieves, and with it may have gone the other silverware of the Tassara family. Señorita Felicia’s quick eyes had followed his own, for she was watching him.
“Yes, Señor Carfora,” she said, “it’s all gone. The china is all stored away in the deep cellar. I don’t believe they could find it, and if they did they could not carry it away to melt it up and make dollars of it. That’s what they did with all the silver one of my aunts had, except some spoons that were hid in the stable, under the hay.One of the robbers went into the stable to hunt, too, and a good mule kicked him dead. If anybody comes to rob this house while we are gone, I wish he might be kicked by one of our mules at the hacienda. He would not steal any more.”
Ned had other things to tell her, about the United States forts, troops, and ships of war, and she had stories to tell with excited vivacity that set forth sadly enough the wretchedly unsettled condition of her country, which she appeared to love so well, after all. Troubled as it was, it was her own land, and she hated its enemies.
It was a hot, oppressive day, with a promise of greater heat soon to come, and the weather itself might be a good enough reason why any family should be in a hurry to get out of thetierra caliente. As for the removal of valuable property, Ned had already learned that Vera Cruz was haunted not only by bad characters from the interior, but by desperadoes from up and down the coast and from the West India Islands. He was not near enough to hear, however, when Zuroaga remarked to his friend Tassara:
“You are right, my dear colonel. The Americans will hold the Texan border with a strong hand, but if Paredes doesnot promptly come to terms with them, we shall see a fleet and army at Vera Cruz before long. This is the weak point of our unhappy republic.”
“I think not,” replied Tassara, gloomily. “I wish it were a solid nation, as strong as the castle out yonder. Our weak point is that we are cut up into factions, and cannot make use of the strength that we really have undeveloped. As for anything else, one case of yellow fever was reported yesterday, and I am informed that his Excellency, President Paredes, talks of coming here shortly to confer with Colonel Guerra. That may mean trouble for him, and neither you nor I would wish to be brought before any such council of war as might be called together.”
“It might not consist altogether of our friends,” said Zuroaga. “In my case, if not in yours, it might be followed quickly by an order for a file of soldiers and a volley of musketry. I should not look for mercy from a tiger.”
“On the other hand,” responded the colonel, “it would be well for him to be careful just now. He will need all the strength he can obtain.”
“Humph!” exclaimed Zuroaga. “He will try to leave no living, or, at least, nounimprisoned enemies behind him when he marches for the border.”
It was plain that they were not to be numbered among their President’s friends, whether or not they were altogether just to him. Bloody severity in putting down sedition was the long-established custom in Mexico, and one man might not be more to blame for it than another. It had been handed down from the old days of Spanish rule, and the record which had been made is not by any means pleasant reading.
When the luncheon was over, the señorita left Ned to himself, appearing to feel somewhat more friendly than at first, but still considering him as a gringo and a foreigner. She said she had some things to pack up, and he went to look after his own. These did not require much packing, and before long he had again found his way out to the courtyard and the stables. These were indeed the most interesting spots about the place, for they contained all the men, the horses, and the mules. Ned shortly concluded that here were also gathered most of the firearms and at least a dozen of the wildest kind of Mexican Indians, all ragged and all barefooted. Preparations for a journey were going forward under Señora Tassara’s direction, and Nedpretty quickly understood that the men were a great deal more afraid of her than they were of her husband. He felt so himself, and he instantly got out of her way, as she told him to do, when he unwisely undertook to help her with her packing.
The horses were of several sorts and sizes, and more like them were shortly brought in. One large spring wagon and a covered carryall carriage were in good order. Both were of American manufacture, and so was the harness of the teams which were to draw them. Ned was feeling a certain degree of curiosity as to what kind of carriage was to carry him, when Señor Zuroaga beckoned him to one side and said:
“We shall be with Colonel Tassara’s party only the first day. But I have been thinking. When we were on theGoshawk, you told me that you had never ridden a horse in your life——”
“Why, I’m a city boy,” interrupted Ned. “There isn’t any horseback riding done there. I’d rather go on wheels.”
“Of course you would,” laughed Zuroaga. “But there won’t be any use for wheels on some of the roads I am to follow. I’ve picked you out a pony that you can manage, though, and you will soon learn.You will have to be a horseman if you are to travel in Mexico.”
“So father used to tell me,” said Ned. “He can ride anything. Which of these is my horse? They all look skittish——”
“Neither of these would do for you,” replied the señor. “But listen to me sharply. Twice you have called me general. Don’t do it again until we are beyond the mountains. I’m only a plain señor in all this region of the country. I only hope that some men in Vera Cruz do not already know that I am here. If they did, I am afraid I should not get out so easily. This is your horse. He is a good one.”
Hitched to a post near the wall was a fat, undersized animal, black as jet, and with more mane and tail than was at all reasonable. He carried a Mexican saddle with wooden stirrups and a tremendous curb-bit bridle. In front of the saddle were pistol holsters, and behind it hung an ammunition case, as if Ned were about to become a trooper. He went to examine the holsters, and found that each of them contained a large horse-pistol with a flintlock. He also found powder and bullets in the case, and he wondered whether or not he would ever be able to shoot anybodywith one of those heavy, long-barrelled things without having something to rest it on.
“I practised for an hour once in a pistol-gallery,” he remarked, “but it wasn’t with anything like that.”
“You didn’t hit centre even then, eh?” laughed the señor. “Well, not many men can do much with them, but they are better than nothing. They are too heavy for a hand like yours. Here is your machete. Put it on.”
Ned felt a queer tingle all over him, as he took the weapon and hitched it at his belt. Then he drew it from the sheath and looked at it, swinging it up and down to feel its weight. It was a straight, one-edged blade, with a sharp point, and a brass basket hilt, and he remarked:
“Señor Zuroaga, I could hit with that, I guess.”
His face had flushed fiery red, and it could be seen, from his handling of the machete, that his muscles were unusually strong for his size and age. The señor nodded his approbation, as he remarked:
“I think you will do. There is fight in you, but I hope we shall have no fighting to do just now. I shall try to find a safe road home.”
“A fellow could cut down bushes with this thing,” said Ned.
“That’s exactly what our rancheros use them for,” replied the señor. “They will do almost anything with a machete. They will cut their way through thick chaparral, kill and cut up beef cattle, split wood, fight men or animals, and on the whole it’s about the most useful tool there is in a Mexican camp or hacienda.”
“What’s that?” asked Ned.
“Any kind of farm with a house on it,” said the señor. “You may have to learn all about haciendas before you get home.”
“Just what I’d like to do,” said Ned. “I’ll learn how to ride, too. How soon are we to set out?”
“Not till after dark,” said the señor. “But you need not be in any hurry to get into the saddle. You will have quite enough of it before you get out of it again. There is a long ride before us to-night.”
“I’m ready,” replied Ned, but nevertheless he looked at that Mexican saddle with doubtful eyes, as if he were thinking that it might possibly prove to be a place of trial for a beginner.
At that very hour there were several gentlemen in uniform closeted with Colonel Guerra in one of the rooms of theCastle of San Juan de Ulua. The colonel appeared to have been giving them a detailed report of the condition of the fortress and of its means for defence, whether or not he had stated exactly the amount of the ammunition brought him by the ill-fatedGoshawk. Other subjects of conversation must now have come up, however, for one of them arose with great dignity of manner, remarking:
“My dear colonel, I am glad that I shall be able to make so encouraging a report to his Excellency. As for Colonel Tassara, we shall serve our warrant upon him some time to-morrow. We are informed that, beyond a doubt, the traitor Zuroaga intends to return from Europe shortly. As sure as he does, he will be engaged in dangerous intrigues against the existing order of things, and the good of the country requires that he shall be brought to justice before he can put any of his nefarious plans in operation. At the same time, we are assured that the invaders upon the Rio Grande will soon be defeated yet more thoroughly.”
All the rest had arisen while he was speaking, and one of them, a fat, short man in a brilliant uniform, added, enthusiastically:
“We feel that we can rely upon you, Colonel Guerra. We pity the gringos if they should attempt to beleaguer this impregnable fortress. For my own part, I believe that Colonel Tassara’s court martial can have but one result. His disobedience must be paid for with his life. All conspirators like Zuroaga should be shot as soon as they are captured. This is not a time, my friends, for undue leniency.”
“Gentlemen,” responded Colonel Guerra with graceful courtesy, “I bid you all a brief farewell with sincere regret. Your visit has given me unmixed satisfaction. Do not forget that all of you are to dine with me to-morrow. From my very heart I can echo your noble sentiments of valor and patriotism and of devotion to our beloved commander-in-chief, his heroic Excellency, President Paredes.”
Then followed smiles and handshakings of mutual confidence all around, and the visiting officers took their departure. Hardly had the door closed behind them, however, before Colonel Guerra again sat down, hoarsely muttering between his set teeth:
“The snake-hearted villains! What they really hoped for was to find the fort and garrison in bad condition and unprovided,so that they might ruin me. They want my disgrace and removal, to make room for one of them. I don’t believe they will catch either Tassara or Zuroaga this time. The colonel will soon raise his new regiment, and my old friend will be down in Oaxaca in safety, waiting for the hour that is to come. Paredes would give something to see my last letter from Santa Anna.”
So there were many plots and counterplots, and the politest men might not be always what they seemed.