[12]For this scene see "La Historia de Belgrano," by General Mitre.
[12]For this scene see "La Historia de Belgrano," by General Mitre.
[13]"La Historia de Belgrano," by General Mitre.
[13]"La Historia de Belgrano," by General Mitre.
Out through the silent streets, out through the quiet suburbs, galloped Marcelino Ponce de Leon, arousing many an unquiet sleeper from uneasy slumbers, for few slept soundly in Buenos Aires on that night between the 24th and 25th May.
Spaniards cowered in their houses, mindful of the 1st January, 1809, dreading an explosion of popular wrath, which they knew themselves powerless to resist. Natives, indignant at the fraud which had been practised upon them, remembered also the 1st January, 1809, and looked anxiously for the day, resolute to overcome all obstacles to the full execution of their will.
Trampling through the mud, splashing through pools of water which lay in the unpaved roadways, Marcelino galloped on, heedless that many a window was thrown hastily open as he passed, and many an anxious eye gazed after him as he rapidly disappeared from sight; heeding no more the anxious looks of men than he did the angry snarling of the curs, who leaped up upon him from many a hedgerow in the suburbs.
He reached the Miserere, and, drawing rein at the quinta gate, looked over the hedge at the windows of the house beyond. That of the sala was thrown wide open, and the mulatta servant girl stood there, staring with a bewildered look upon the clouds. Marcelino dismounted and, throwing his rein over the gate-post, walked up to the porch; the door was opened for him by Magdalen herself. She was dressed in a white wrapper with a frilled collar, and her hair was bound round her head with a fillet of blue silk. She seemed not in the least surprised to see him at that untimely hour, and her eyes spoke her welcome as she met him.
Marcelino took her hand, and she turned with him to go inside.
"I have not seen you for three days," he said; "I could not let another day pass without telling you what we have done, and to-day will be one which will mark an epoch in our history."
"I have heard something, but not all; you will tell me."
"Señorita!" exclaimed the mulatto girl, running out from the sala, "have you not seen the sky? In all my life I have seen nothing so strange."
Marcelino and Magdalen looked behind them through the open door of the porch. A bright light shone upon everything they saw, tinging everything with pink.
Then the two went out and stood in the porch, the young man and the maiden, hand in hand, together speaking not, and in their silence was there more eloquence than in many words.
Together they stood watching the dawn of the morning, their hearts communing one with another in silent sympathy, the sympathy of mutual trust and love. Together they watched the rising of the sun on the morning of the 25th May, a sunrise which is now hailed every year as the day comes round by the thundering salute of the cannon of emancipated peoples, and by the voices of thousands of children, who in every city and town throughout the one-time colonies of Spain welcome with patriotic songs the rising of the sun on the 25th of May.
Together they stood in the porch and looked forth upon the eastern sky. The clouds which hung low over the city seemed to form but one cloud, stretching from horizon to horizon in one dense mass of dark grey, shaded with pink, which cast a bright pink reflection upon the domes and towers of the churches, and upon the white-washed walls of the houses in the nearest quintas. Then as they stood together and looked, the pink tints died out of the sky, and the dark grey of the clouds changed to a brilliant orange. Far away on the eastern horizon, just in the path of the rising sun, there was a break in the vast uniformity of cloud, a semicircle of deep blue; in the centre of this blue sky, up rose the sun, launching his fiery beams straight on the concave surface of the cloud. In an instant the orange tints died out, and the whole cloud became one mass of brilliant yellow, so brilliant and free from shades that it was impossible to tell that there was any cloud at all. It seemed as though a noonday sun had spread himself over the whole sky, that the sky itself had become a sun, bathing the world beneath in a flood of yellow light, which was reflected from every object round, dazzlingly brilliant, but without one ray of warmth in it.
As they gazed in silence, still hand in hand, from north to south there darted a rosy streak of lightning, and the curtain of cloud sank down over the blue space on the eastern horizon, shutting out the sun. As the cloud descended the golden sheen faded away out of the sky, and there came from far off in the north a clap of thunder, which rolled and rolled away above the clouds, echoing and re-echoing till it lost itself in the farthest south. Then the clouds were again one mass of dull grey, hanging low over the city, and heavy drops of rain fell pattering on the roof of the porch above them.
"What is this?" said Magdalen, drawing closer to Marcelino; "never have I seen a sunrise like this."
"Nor I," replied Marcelino; "and if I mistake not, the day which follows will be a day such as has never been seen before in Buenos Aires."
"Saw you the sun, how brilliantly he shone out? Then there came that angry flash of lightning, all the glory died out of the sky, and there was a long roll of thunder. Do you believe in omens? Do you not tremble?"
"I do not tremble," said Marcelino; "have you not taught me faith? to do right and fear nothing? What can be more right ormore noble than to free one's native country from the slavery of centuries? The liberty we shall win to-day, may but give us the right to toil and labour for years to come, but is it not more noble to labour than to sleep?"
Then Magdalen leaned upon his arm and whispered:
"Yes, that is faith."
Marcelino, throwing his arms round her, pressed her to his breast and kissed her. For a minute there was silence between them. That kiss was the seal of a compact of which both had thought much, but of which neither had spoken until this day—a compact which bound them to each other so long as their lives should last, a compact which made the cares and toils of one, the cares and toils of both, a compact which blended their two lives into one life, and which death alone could cancel.
Marcelino was the first to speak.
"The presage of the rising sun," said he, "may be fulfilled. The liberty we shall achieve to-day may be soon clouded over, the storm may burst upon us, and all our efforts may be long unavailing to raise the people from the sloth and ignorance into which they have fallen under Spanish rule, but this sun over which the storm-cloud has fallen, this sun which is now hidden from us, will shine out again to-morrow when the storm has passed over. This storm is but the herald of the winter, which will tear off the last leaves from the trees, which will wither up the few remaining flowers. It is but the first of many storms, but they also will pass over. Winter will give place to spring. Again the genial sun will shine out, clothing the whole earth with verdure. The earth, refreshed and invigorated by the stern discipline of winter, will give new strength to the trees, fresh beauty to the flowering shrubs, and in the joyous springtime we shall forget the storms of winter. Shall it not be so with us, Magdalen? Life has many storms in store for us, but we will not shrink from facing them. Shall we not walk together, cheering and strengthening each other, looking together in faith to the future?"
Magdalen's lips spoke no answer to his question, but her eyes looked up into his with a brave confidence, which was answer sufficient.
"Señor Don Marcelino, shall I not tie your horse under the shed, your saddle will be sopping wet in five minutes?"
It was the gardener who spoke, an old man with a face like a block of wood. How long he had been standing there neither of them knew.
"Leave it," said Marcelino, turning sharply on him.
"You must not go yet," said Magdalen, "I have so much to ask you. Papa is asleep, so I can make coffee for you myself."
Old Antonio got no further answer, and stood looking after them as they went back into the house together. Then, with a wink of his cunning old eyes, he hobbled to the gate, and taking the horse by the bridle led him away.
An hour later, Marcelino and Magdalen again stood in the porch side by side and hand in hand. Still the rain poured down, still the wind sighed mournfully among the trees, still the withered leaves brokeoff from the swaying branches, and gathered in sodden masses on the wet ground; over all hung the leaden sky, and the far-off towers and domes of the churches were invisible, shrouded in thick mist and driving rain. The prospect as they looked out was dismal, yet they looked upon it with cheerful eyes, the confidence which filled their hearts made them oblivious to aught else than their own thoughts.
"Come to me when all is settled and tell me what you have done," whispered Magdalen.
"The knights of old went forth to fight with their lady's glove in their helmet," said Marcelino. "There will be no shivering of lances to-day, yet may I not carry with me some gage of love, to remind me that I fight to-day not for myself nor even for my country alone?"
As he spoke he looked at the fillet of blue silk which bound Magdalen's brown hair. She, with a smile, twisted it from her head and, unfastening it, passed it through the buttonhole of his coat, tying it there in a small bow from which hung two short streamers. Then she stood off to look at him, but shook her head, and going back to his side untied the bow and pulled away the ribbon.
"Wait a minute," she said, shaking back the hair which hung over her face, and then went off to her own room.
Some minutes she was away. When she came back her hair was again bound up with a fillet, but the fillet was no longer a simple blue ribbon, it was of two ribbons, one blue, the other white, twined together. In her hand she carried a blue-and-white rosette, from which hung three streamers, of which the centre one was white, the other two blue. She brought also a needle and thread, and the active fingers stitched the rosette with its three streamers to the lappel of Marcelino's coat.
"There," she said, as she finished her work and stood back to admire it, "there you take not only a gage but an emblem. The sky in the springtime is not blue only, it is blue and white. If you meet with more difficulty than you expect, look on this ribbon, blue and white, and think of the springtime of which you told me."
As Marcelino rode away Magdalen stood in the porch looking after him, till a tall aloe hedge shut him out from her sight, then she seated herself in a low chair with her hands folded before her, gazing vacantly at the raindrops as they fell from the eaves, in deep thought, till the sound of a bell called her to her father's room.
"You have had a visitor this morning, Chica," said Don Alfonso, in a more natural tone than she had heard him speak in for weeks.
"Yes, papa," said she, what little colour she had in her face fading away, and her lips closing firmly together.
"Who was it, Chica?"
"Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon, papa," she answered.
"Does Don Marcelino love you, Chica?"
"Yes," she said, trying hard to answer in a steady voice.
Don Alfonso stretched out his hand, and drawing her down to him he kissed her, and murmured in a low voice in English:
"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."
Then Magdalen fell on her knees beside the bed and burst into tears.
When Marcelino reached Evaña's house he found his friend already gone. On foot he followed him, not doubting that he would see him or hear of him on the Plaza Mayor. Neither here nor in any of the streets as he passed along did he see any troops, every corps was in its own barracks, under arms and ready to march at a moment's notice, awaiting orders only from the revolutionary committee to appear. But every street leading to the Plaza Mayor was thronged with groups of citizens, who, careless of the rain, wended their way thither. As Marcelino entered the Plaza he saw the wide causeway of the Recoba Nueva occupied by long lines of young men, all of whom were armed, some with pistols, some with sword-sticks. Among these young men Evaña walked hurriedly, striving apparently to establish some organisation amongst them, which was each moment destroyed by the accession of fresh recruits.
"What is that?" said Evaña, as Marcelino walked up to him and he saw the blue and white rosette on the lappel of his coat.
"These," answered Marcelino, taking the streamers in his hand, "are the colours of La Patria."
"Viva La Patria!" shouted Evaña, taking off his hat.
The shout was taken up and echoed all over the Plaza, and in an instant all the organisation which Evaña had been labouring to establish was destroyed. Each man after he had shouted turned to his neighbour to ask why. One only obtained a satisfactory answer, and he was Marcelino, who asked the question of Evaña himself.
"You have given me the idea I wanted," said Evaña. "There are of all sorts here, and we must have some means of knowing our own. Choose your pickets of young men we can trust, and station them at every entrance to the Plaza. I will procure blue and white ribbons for distribution to all patriots, your pickets will keep back any who seek to enter the Plaza who have not these ribbons."
Half an hour later the Plaza was crowded with people, but every man there had in the buttonhole of his coat two ribbons, one blue, the other white.
The Cabildo met at an early hour that morning. The first subject which engaged their attention was the resignation by Don Baltazar de Cisneros of the dignity of President of the Junta, which had been conferred upon him the day previous.
Don Cornelio Saavedra had been with Don Baltazar during the night, and, showing him that it would be impossible otherwise to preserve public tranquillity, had persuaded him to send in this resignation.
The second subject before the Cabildo was the "Representation" drawn up by the revolutionary committee, and signed by some hundreds of citizens, which formed a protest against their proceedings.
Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon exerted himself to the utmost in favour of moderation, counselling them to name Don Cornelio Saavedra President of the Junta in place of Don Baltazar de Cisneros, and Don Manuel Belgrano as the fourth member of that body, in the place of Don Cornelio. But Don Roderigo was feebly supported by the native members of the Cabildo, his proposal was scouted as an act of cowardice by the more violent of the Spaniards. He warned them that hundreds of the people, greatly excited, and most of them armed,patrolled the Plaza Mayor and filled the cafés. The answer of the Cabildo to this popular demonstration was to send for the commanders of the troops. As soon as these officers were assembled at the Cabildo they received orders to march their troops to the Plaza and disperse the people at the point of the bayonet. Most of these officers refused point blank to obey the command, the rest stated that any such attempt would infallibly produce a mutiny among their men.
The Cabildo thus found themselves powerless, but even then would not listen to the moderate counsels of Don Roderigo. Hours passed, and, as they debated the matter angrily among themselves, there came a violent knocking upon the outer doors, which were closed.
The people, wearied out by long waiting, had sent a deputation headed by Don Carlos Evaña and Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon, who demanded the immediate deposition of Don Baltazar de Cisneros. Don Martin Rodriguez, who was at the Cabildo with the other commanding officers, opened the door and went out to them. He was instantly surrounded by a number of excited young men, who asked him angrily what the Cabildo were doing, that for hours they kept the people waiting, instead of at once revoking their edict of the preceding day.
"Don Baltazar de Cisneros has sent in his resignation himself," answered Don Martin, "which renders necessary the appointment of an entirely new Junta. They require time to decide upon what men to choose for the Junta."
"Is that all?" replied Evaña. "We will save them the trouble of debating that question any longer."
So saying, Don Carlos drew out his pocket-book and turning to a blank leaf wrote on it in pencil, seven names.
"There," said he, tearing out the leaf and presenting it to Don Martin, "there, give that list to the Señores of the Cabildo, and tell them that that Junta and no other will satisfy the wishes of the people."
"Come in and present it to them yourself," said Don Martin, drawing back.
Upon this Evaña and Marcelino Ponce de Leon followed Don Martin into the council-chamber, a large room in the upper story, lighted by windows which reached to the floor of the room, and opened upon the balconies overlooking the Plaza Mayor.
Evaña, holding the paper in his hand, strode up to the table round which the members of the corporation were seated, and laying it before the Alcalde de primer voto—
"Señores," he said, "you are but wasting your time here, the people have chosen a Junta for themselves, you have nothing more to do than to draw up an edict appointing this Junta according to legal forms, and then to retire and leave the power in their hands."
"The people!" exclaimed Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, starting to his feet, "where is this people? and how have they chosen this Junta?"
"Step this way, Don Roderigo, and look upon the people," replied Evaña, drawing the bolts of one of the windows and throwing the window wide open.
Don Roderigo walked to the window and stepped out upon the balcony. Something more than a hundred young men stood drawnup in line on the roadway beneath him, the rest of the Plaza was nearly deserted; it was now an hour past noon, and the heavy rain had driven the greater part of those who had filled the Plaza some hours before, back to their own homes or to the shelter of the cafés.
"Do you call these boys the people?" said Don Roderigo
"The people were here hours ago," said Don Carlos. "These only have remained, but they are sufficient to tell you the will of the people. Ask them."
Then as Don Roderigo looked back in indignation upon his colleagues each man of whom still sat in his place as though stricken with fear, Don Carlos also turned to them.
"Señores," said he, "will you that I call all the people back, that you may speak to them? If you wish it I will do so. I will also send round to the barracks, and from each barrack there will march forth a regiment of patriots, each patriot with a musket on his shoulder. Will you that I send for them?"
But the Cabildo, especially the more violent members, were stricken with consternation, they cowered before the haughty bearing of Don Carlos Evaña, and looked in vain for hope into the quiet, resolute face of Marcelino Ponce de Leon. Round the door, which had been left open, there crowded other stern, determined faces. Evaña, Marcelino, and each of these men wore blue and white ribbons hanging from the lappels of their coats. The people who had thronged the Plaza two hours before had also each man worn these ribbons. These ribbons were the same colours which the Patricios had carried through smoke and fire triumphantly, on the 5th July, 1807. They looked at each other and their hearts quailed within them; they looked into the faces of the military commandants, who looked up at the ceiling or down on the ground, their hands playing with their sword-knots, or with the buckles of their belts, but who looked back at them, never at all. They fancied themselves the victims of some wide-spread conspiracy.
Then the Alcalde de primer voto, who was the President ex-officio, took up the paper which lay before him and read aloud the names which Evaña had there written.
"I see no objection to any of these gentlemen," said one, "they are all men highly respectable, and of influence among the people."
The rest murmured their acquiescence, all save Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, who, coming back from the window, now even more vehemently opposed their timid yielding to dictation, than he had opposed their purblind obstinacy in the morning.
"Señores," said he, "if you appoint that Junta you endorse a revolution, you strike the first blow against the honour of the flag of Spain, you are guilty of treason to your legitimate sovereign."
"The Junta will rule in the name of King Ferdinand, and will be responsible to him for the use it makes of its authority," said Marcelino.
"I say nothing against the Junta," said Don Roderigo. "The Cabildo have the right to appoint what men they please on the Junta, but they have also the right of forbidding all intrusion upon their counsels, and when they submit to unauthorised dictation they are guilty of treason."
The members looked up irresolute, but behind Don Roderigo stood the tall figure of Don Carlos Evaña, leaning against the frame of the open window, twisting the blue and white ribbons which hung from the buttonhole of his coat round his fingers. Their faces fell and they whispered one to the other—
"Why not? What better can we do?"
Then Don Roderigo turned his back upon them, and throwing his cloak over his shoulders, drawing his hat down over his eyes, left the room, elbowed his way through the throng of young men who crowded the staircase and the courtyard, and so out into the open Plaza, speaking no word to any, but walking rapidly away to his own house.
At three o'clock that afternoon, the Cabildo published an edict, appointing in the name of King Ferdinand VII. a Junta of government as follows:—
President.—Don Cornelio Saavedra.Members.Dr. Don Juan Josè Castelli." " Manuel Alberdi." Manuel Belgrano." Miguel Azcuenaga." Domingo Matheu." Juan de Larrea.
Being a copy of the list which had been so hurriedly drawn up by Don Carlos Evaña.
No clangour of bells or roaring of guns hailed the publication of this edict, a solemn silence fell over the city, all felt that a great revolution had been accomplished, a revolution unstained by one drop of blood.
Buenos Aires made no noisy demonstration of joy over this great victory, she saw clearly the task she had undertaken, and, content that the first step was gained so peacefully, forbore to triumph over her fallen tyrants, setting her face steadfastly towards the great future now opening up before her.
The new Junta met the next day, the 26th May. Their first step was to appoint two secretaries—
Dr. Don Mariano Morenoand " " Juan Josè Passo.
whom they incorporated into their body, thus raising the total number of the Junta to nine.
To this committee of nine men, Buenos Aires entrusted her destiny, the destiny of the Argentine people. They ruled Buenos Aires and directed her energies in the name of Ferdinand VII., King of Spain and the Indies. They styled themselves the Junta Gubernativa of the provinces of the Rio de la Plata; they yet acknowledged as their King a Spaniard of the House of Bourbon, who lay in a French prison; they yet considered their country as a part of the wide empire of Spain; but they looked upon the men of Buenos Aires as the people from whom they held their authority and to whom alone they were responsible; they were, although they knew it not, the founders and the first rulers of theArgentine Republic.
On the 26th of May Don Gregorio Lopez gave a dinner-party to a number of his friends to celebrate the installation of the new Junta. Don Cornelio Saavedra was there as the principal guest, also Don Manuel Belgrano, and other members of the one time secret committee; of course Marcelino Ponce de Leon and Don Carlos Evaña were present, but the chair which had been placed for Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon was vacant.
At the bottom of the table sat Colonel Lopez, who had only that morning arrived in town from his estancia, and was now eager to learn all the particulars of the events of the memorable days just flown.
Conversation was brisk during the whole time the dinner lasted, each man spoke proudly of the part he had taken in these events, every face beamed with confidence, none seeming to have any doubt of the prosperous future they had secured for their country, but the eye of Don Gregorio wandered now and then uneasily to that vacant chair, which had been placed for his son-in-law Don Roderigo, and which had been kept vacant, in the hope that he might appear.
The dinner concluded with a number of patriotic toasts, proposed in eloquent words, and honoured with enthusiasm, after which the company adjourned to the sala, where many ladies awaited them, among whom the eye of Don Gregorio sought in vain for his daughter Constancia, or for his granddaughter Dolores. The younger people soon commenced dancing, while the elders collected in groups in the corners of the sala, or in the ante-sala, talking; some remained in the dining-room, where coffee was served to them, of whom Colonel Lopez was one. As Evaña had risen from his seat to go to the sala the Colonel had stopped him, and Evaña had taken another chair beside him.
"So you have your republic at last," said the Colonel, after they had conversed some time together.
"Not quite," replied Evaña, "but to this there can be only one end, a republic."
"Then there is work before us yet?"
"Without doubt. Here the Spaniards are powerless, but in the provinces they may yet raise opposition."
"And you wish me to join this expedition with my regiment?"
"I do, and more. You have no officer under you above the rank of captain, I wish you to take me with you with the rank of major."
To this the Colonel made no answer, but sat twisting his moustachios.
"I know why you hesitate," said Evaña. "You are accustomed to absolute authority in your own regiment, and do not like the idea of having another officer with you, so near to you in rank."
"And of all men you the least," said the Colonel bluntly. "I know you, Carlos, where you are, there you will have the command, and there are not a few men in my regiment who would be ready to mutiny if you told them. Besides, you have never served at all, how can you take rank at once as a major?"
"I have arranged all that with Don Cornelio. Of course he would not give me such rank in an infantry regiment, but in the cavalry it is different."
"Hum!" said the Colonel indignantly, "you city men think anything is good enough for cavalry. I can assure you that if we have any fighting with the Spaniards it will be the cavalry that will secure us the victory. What would you do in a country which is one immense pampa, with infantry or artillery?"
"I thought you would feel flattered at my preference for the cavalry," replied Evaña. "But do not alarm yourself, I do not wish to interfere in any way in the management of the regiment, I merely wish to march with you and hold a definite rank."
"Look you, Evaña," said the Colonel, with a searching look in his eyes, "there is more in this than you tell me. Be frank with me, tell me what you want, and count upon me."
"I want nothing more than I have told you, but I will tell you why."
Evaña paused, looking round him to see that no one was within earshot, then drawing his chair closer to the Colonel and leaning his elbows on the table he continued—
"There is only one man whom we need fear, he is an able soldier and very popular. If he should pronounce against us, many even of the Creoles will join him, and among us there are few who will be eager to fight against him. If he rise, he must be crushed at once. I go to keep an eye upon the officers of this expedition and to ensure that there be no vacillation."
"Liniers?" said the Colonel.
Evaña nodded.
"I should not like to lead a charge against him," said the Colonel.
"If the necessity should arise I will be there and will lead the regiment for you," said Evaña.
"This Liniers, three years ago the 'Reconquistador,' to-day is a Goth, is he not, Senor Evaña?" asked the Colonel, stretching himself and leaning back in his chair. Then as Evaña looked at him in surprise without answering, he continued—
"What is this you have been telling Viana about Goths?"
"Ah! Viana, yes, I have told him about the Goths. Does he speak much of them among the people?"
"He does nothing else than talk about them. Goth now stands with them for everything that is bad. My little Ignacio was naughty the other day, and I heard Mauricia tell him that if he was not good the Goths would come and take him away. When I received your letter, telling me to come to town, the peons came crowding to theestancia to know if the Goths had landed. Why have you put such folly into their heads?"
"It is no folly, Gregorio," said Don Carlos. "You understand the paisanos, it is of no use to talk to them about patriotism or about liberty. All their traditions and customs lead them to look upon Spaniards as their natural rulers; if the Spaniards knew how to enlist their sympathies on their side, we might gain a transient victory in the towns and cities, but eventually we should succumb, for the main strength of every country lies in its peasantry. Fortunately Spaniards understand nothing of that, they look upon the paisanos as barbarians by whose labour they can amass wealth. Before they learn their error, I seek to forestall them by supplanting these traditions among the paisanos by a new idea, which they will comprehend very rapidly. We do not fight against Spaniards, who are very decent people, but against Goths, who are robbers and murderers; in favour of the Goths there is no tradition among them. These tales that I have told Viana about the Goths are perfectly true, they will circulate from rancho to rancho all over the campaña, and if ever the day come that we are hard pressed, thousands of valiant horsemen will follow you against the Goths who would not move a finger to help you against the Spaniards."
"Then there really are such people as the Goths?"
"They were barbarians who overran Europe in the time of the Roman Empire."
"And did they really sack the city of Rome and try to kill the Holy Father?"
"They did."
"And they would do it again if they had the chance?"
"There are no Goths now, but many Spaniards are descended from the Goths, therefore those of them who may refuse to obey the Junta, we can call Goths. There is much in a name, my friend Don Gregorio."
"Do you know, Evaña, you are a man who can see far," said the Colonel, "but there are men who can see almost as far as you. You say that the Spaniards understand nothing of the paisanos, I can tell you there are other men who are quite as ignorant as the Spaniards. What know these lawyers and shopkeepers of the city of the nature of the paisanos? I tell you they know even less than the Spaniards. I know the Argentine people, and I know that they will never be content to be governed by lawyers and shopkeepers, so take care how you arrange this congress, for the danger is not from Spaniards alone, and will not be averted by telling extravagant tales about the Goths. Come, let us see what they are doing in the sala."
While Don Gregorio Lopez was in vain looking for his son-in-law among the many visitors who crowded his sala that evening, Don Roderigo was thinking of far other things than festivity and dancing. The first part of the evening he had spent at the residence of Don Baltazar de Cisneros in conference with the ex-Viceroy. About nine o'clock he left him and returned to his own house, walking with a firm, quick step, as though the result of his interview had been satisfactory. As he entered his sala he found there one visitor, talking with his wife and Dolores, Don Ciriaco Asneiros. Doña Constancia looked at him anxiously as he came in.
"Marcelino has been here," she said; "he wished to take us to my father's. They are all very much disappointed that you would not allow us to go."
"I am very glad papa would not," said Dolores. "I have no wish to dance with men who are traitors to Spain."
"There spoke my own daughter," said Don Roderigo, smiling.
"Marcelino is there and Don Carlos Evaña," said Doña Constancia.
"Marcelino does not know what he is doing," said Dolores; "and Don Carlos, we all know what ideas he has always had, but I never thought that he would do more than talk. Now I see that the Viceroy was right to put Don Alfonso Miranda in prison, and I am very sorry, papa, that I asked you to get him out."
"The Señor Evaña has been at the head of the conspiracy for years past," said Asneiros.
Doña Constancia glanced hurriedly at Don Roderigo.
"But, papa, I have something else to tell you," said Dolores. "Marcelino says that they are going to send an army into the provinces, and that Evaristo has volunteered. You will stop him, won't you?"
Don Roderigo started, and then walked up the room and back again.
"Cannot you prevent that, Constancia?" he said to his wife.
"I will try, but I am afraid he will not listen to me."
"Evaristo is always so obstinate, but if you order him not to go, papa, then he will not," said Dolores.
"When Buenos Aires revolts against Spain fathers need not hope for much obedience from their sons," said Don Roderigo; "I suppose Marcelino has persuaded him to go with him."
"Marcelino is not going," said Doña Constancia.
"I understood that he had been offered the command of a regiment."
"He declined it," said Asneiros. "I have been offered a command also, but not here, in Monte Video. I came to consult you about it."
"Elio is preparing in time. These patriots as they call themselves seem quite sure that all the cities and towns will join them, but they may perhaps find themselves mistaken," said Don Roderigo, with a significant glance at his wife, who took it as a signal to retire.
"Of course you will go to Monte Video at once," said Don Roderigo to Asneiros when they were alone.
"I do not know that, I have come to speak with you on the subject," replied Asneiros.
"It is from Monte Video that we must look for the reaction," said Don Roderigo. "If Elio remains faithful he will not have much difficulty in securing Monte Video, the fleet will obey him and will give us the command of the rivers, and I have persuaded Cisneros to apply to Peru for an army to secure the northern provinces."
"I was with Don Baltazar this morning; he then seemed quite castdown, and spoke of any attempt to upset the Junta as folly."
"We cannot do anything here at present, but I think we may soon reduce these rebels to the city if we proceed cautiously. The provinces are all jealous of Buenos Aires."
"There is some one else thinks so," said Asneiros. "Don SantiagoLiniers was here in secret not many weeks ago. He hoped that Don Baltazar would have adopted severe measures to prevent this outbreak; when he went he thought only of a reconquest."
"Liniers!" exclaimed Don Roderigo, "I had not thought of him. Truly he is a man from whom at this juncture we may hope more than from Don Baltazar. Upon Concha and Bishop Orellana we may count with certainty."
"His name is alone worth an army," replied Asneiros. "He wished me to go with him, but I thought it better to remain here and watch the course of events. Yesterday I sent off a chasque to him. What say you? Should I not do better in Cordova than in Monte Video? In the provinces we may soon raise an army."
Don Roderigo hesitated, and Asneiros continued—
"What will give us difficulty is this, that as the Junta was appointed by the Cabildo it has the appearance of a legitimate government. What Liniers will require is the aid of some leading Spaniard from the capital, whose name alone will be guarantee for our loyalty."
"We want money and arms, in Monte Video we should have them."
"And be under the command of General Elio, who will have the credit of all you do. No, better join Liniers, and have the credit of what he does. I can procure arms and men too, if you will guarantee me payment of my expenditure when we retake Buenos Aires."
"Men you may persuade to follow you by promises, but arms you will have to pay for, I can assist you very little in that."
"I do not want any money from you, I merely wish your guarantee for the repayment, in the name of the first Spanish Viceroy who has the key of the treasury of Buenos Aires."
"I will give you that readily enough, but how can you raise money sufficient?"
"Have you forgotten the black coffer of that traitor Don Alfonso?"
"Three or four hundred dollars you said there were in it, but you returned them to him?"
"I thought you understood me," said Asneiros, turning aside his face to conceal his vexation. "Of course I gave him the money back, and his ingots too, but I gave him leaden ingots for his gold ones, they are quite as much use to him as the gold ones would ever have been, and now the gold will buy muskets and men to reconquer Buenos Aires for Spain."
"It was true then, you stole the old man's gold?"
"It was no use to him, but it is rather a pity that it should turn out to be the dowry of your son's wife."
"The dowry of my son's wife! Marcelino's wife! What do you mean?"
"That Don Marcelino is going to marry Magdalen Miranda, the daughter of that old traitor, and that the ingots should have been hers. We will give them back to her if you like, when we retake Buenos Aires."
"Marcelino marry! I thought——leave me, I can talk no more."
"Come with me to Cordova. When you are president of a Spanish Junta you will have the remedy in your own hands."
To this Don Roderigo made no answer, and Asneiros, giving a fierce twirl to his moustachios, left the room.
By the second week in June the "Espedicion Auxiliadora," composed of 1200 volunteers, had assembled under the command of Colonel Ocampo of the Arribeño regiment. The force had been originally planned to consist of 500 men, but the first advices received by the new Junta from the interior, sounded a note of danger.
The answer of General Concha, Governor of Cordova, to the notification sent to him by the Junta Gubernativa of their assumption of supreme power, was a proclamation issued by Marshal Liniers and himself, in which they denied the authority of the Junta, and called upon all loyal subjects of King Ferdinand VII., to aid them in resisting its pretensions. Orellana, Bishop of Cordova, gave their opposition the sanction of his name and influence.
Instead of 500, 1200 volunteers were enrolled and equipped in little more than a fortnight, the whole of the preliminary expenses being defrayed by voluntary subscriptions. Ere they were ready to march, Colonel Lopez had already left the Barrancas at the head of 200 volunteers from his regiment. He proceeded to the north of the province and encamped on the river Arrecifes, collecting horses for the force under the command of Colonel Ocampo. The entire troop commanded by Venceslao Viana had volunteered, on learning that Don Carlos Evaña would march with them as major of the regiment.
On the 10th June there was considerable excitement in Buenos Aires. On the preceding night, a number of the volunteers had left their barracks without leave, many of them having taken their arms and equipments with them; none of them returned to the barracks, it was evident that they had deserted. Some of the men began to talk of overtures which had been made to them by a certain Spanish major who had been greatly trusted by the ex-Viceroy, and it was remarked that all the men who had deserted, had formerly served in one or other of the regiments which had been disbanded on the 2nd January, 1809. In the afternoon it became known that at daylight that morning, a party of about eighty men, well armed and mounted, had crossed the river Las Conchas, apparently on the march for the north of the province.
Search was made everywhere for Major Asneiros, but he could not be found. Marcelino Ponce de Leon with a party of Patricios examined the house where he had usually resided, and was met by a finely-dressed lady, who told him that the major had left on the previous night for Monte Video, and would not be back for sometime. In his rooms nothing was found which could give any clue to the reason of his absence.
All that could be done was to send a chasque to Colonel Lopez, telling him to look out for and intercept these deserters.
Don Carlos Evaña had been one of the most active in prosecuting the search for Major Asneiros. In the evening he, with several other officers of the expedition, after dining with Don Cornelio Saavedra, strolled about the city paying farewell visits to their friends, for they were to march on the day following. The last house at which Don Carlos called was that of Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, but he was disappointed there, not one of the family was at home. About ten o'clock he returned to his own house, at the door he found his servant Pepe waiting for him.
"Ah, Señor!" said Pepe, "for two hours I have been looking for you everywhere. There is a lady waiting to see you. She would not go till you came, and I could not find you. She is in the sala, Señor, and the girl with her."
As Don Carlos entered his sala he was met by a girl whose face was covered with a mantle. On seeing him she turned quickly towards another female figure, also muffled up, who was seated in an obscure corner of the room.
"Here he comes at last, Señorita," she said. Then stepping back so that Don Carlos might pass her, she went to the door and closed it, standing there as though on the watch lest any other should enter.
Don Carlos walked quickly towards the shrouded figure which he could dimly see reclining in a large arm-chair, when that figure started up, and throwing aside the heavy shawl which covered her from head to foot Dolores Ponce de Leon stood before him.
"Oh, Don Carlos! I thought you would never come," said she, and burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands.
Taking one of her hands in his, Don Carlos soothed her and led her back to the seat she had quitted, then drawing forward another chair he seated himself near her and waited till she was calm enough to speak.
"Papa! Don Carlos. Do you know where papa is?" she said.
"I have just come from your house; no one was there. I have not seen Don Roderigo for several days."
"Papa went away last night, I don't know where he has gone. Mamma has gone to see grandpapa, I have come to see you. Long ago you told me that perhaps the day might come when a friend——when you might——"
"And you remember, and you have come to me. Thanks, thanks, it is so good of you. Tell me everything, your least wish is sacred to me."
Don Carlos moved his chair nearer her and tried to take her hand, but she drew it away from him, and folding her hands together looked straight at him.
"I know you would," she said. "Yesterday Marcelino came to see papa, and papa was very angry with him. You know Marcelino wants to marry Magdalen Miranda, papa says the daughter of Don Alfonso cannot be fit to be Marcelino's wife. I did not hear all theysaid, for they were in the ante-sala and the door was closed but not shut. But as Marcelino was going papa called after him, to beware, for though he was his own son he would never stir a finger to save the life of a traitor to his king and country. That I heard quite plainly for papa spoke loud. I have not seen Marcelino since, but last night when papa kissed me and held me in his arms, there were tears in his eyes, and I could see that he was praying for me. When I went away he called me back and kissed me again, and I begged him to tell me what was the matter, but he said that nothing was the matter, and that I was to be cheerful and not to trouble my head about things, which could not be avoided. I thought that he was thinking of Marcelino, but I don't know why, I was frightened, and I could not sleep, and long after that I heard the door of papa's room open, then the street door was opened very quietly and shut again, and I heard voices in the patio speaking, one of which was papa's, the other I am almost sure was Don Ciriaco Asneiros. This morning mamma said papa had gone and would not be back for several days, but told me I was to say nothing about it. In the afternoon Evaristo came, and said a number of the volunteers had deserted and were gone with Don Ciriaco Asneiros into the provinces to Cordova, to fight against the Junta, and that when they catch them they will shoot them all. For more than two weeks Don Ciriaco has been coming every night to see papa, after every one else was in bed; Evaristo says that Don Ciriaco is a conspirator, and that they will shoot him too."
Don Carlos had listened to Dolores attentively, letting her tell her tale in her own way, but now she paused as though she expected him to speak.
"You fear that Don Roderigo has gone with these mutineers," he said.
"I am almost sure of it. Mamma tells me that it is nonsense, and that he has gone to Monte Video, but I know she thinks so too."
"I fear there can be little doubt of it," said Don Carlos.
Dolores covered her face with her hands and again burst into tears.
"Can you do nothing to help me, Don Carlos? I know you can. Think if they should fight, and Evaristo is with the volunteers."
"You wish me to stop Evaristo? If you and Doña Constancia cannot stop him what can I do?"
"No, no, Don Carlos. Do not be cruel to me, it is papa I wish you to stop."
"But he is gone, what can I do? If he has gone to join Liniers, if we fight I will make it my special work to save him for your sake."
Then Dolores sprang indignantly to her feet.
"I thought you were my friend, Don Carlos," she said. "He must not fight, they will shoot him, what can you do to save him in a battle? But you can stop him, I know you can."
"He is probably thirty leagues away by this time, how can I stop him?"
"I don't know, I don't know, but I know you can. How can I tell you what to do? Oh, Don Carlos! you are my friend, you said you were, do not be cruel to me. What matters Spain or the Junta if papa is killed?"
So saying Dolores fell on her knees at his feet, and seized his hand pressing her lips to it.
Don Carlos rose hurriedly from his chair, a thrill ran through his whole body at the touch of her lips, but she clung to him.
"Save papa for me," she said. "I know you can if you will. Save him for my sake."
Then Don Carlos bent over her and raised her to her feet.
"I will do what I can," he said. "Here I can do nothing, but if I start now I may reach Arrecifes to-morrow night; my dragoons are there, I may perhaps overtake him on the frontier."
"I know you will, I knew you would if I asked you," said Dolores, holding his hand in both hers, and looking up at him, her thanks and her confidence, beaming upon him out of her large grey eyes.
"There is no time to lose," said she. "He left the house soon after midnight."
"I shall be in the saddle in half an hour," said he, as he took up her shawl and laid it carefully over her shoulders, but she raised it and threw it over her head, wrapping herself up so that it was impossible for any one who saw her to tell who she was.
"I will see you safe home, then I will go at once," said Don Carlos.
"No, no, not one step with me, I have Manuela." And stretching out her hand to him, and leaving it for a minute in his firm grasp without speaking, Dolores turned from him and, taking her maid with her, disappeared in the patio.
Evaña stood motionless, looking after her, listening to the light rapid steps which passed along the side-walk outside his sala windows till as he heard them no more he drew a deep sigh, then ringing his bell for Pepe he cautioned him never to mention this visit to any one.
Half an hour later, accompanied by two armed servants, he rode away, leaving a short note behind him for Marcelino, telling him, without any explanation of this hurried departure, that he had gone to join his regiment at Arrecifes.
Late the following afternoon, Don Carlos Evaña rode alone into the encampment of the dragoons, close to the small town of Arrecifes. His two servants had been unable to keep up with him, and he had only accomplished the journey so hastily by changing horses at different estancias on his way.
Colonel Lopez had marched with two troops, the day before, for San Nicolas, and no chasque had arrived from the city for several days; such was the report of Venceslao Viana, who had been left in command with about 100 men.
"A party of mutineers left Buenos Aires yesterday. Send out scouts to make enquiries at every estancia for ten leagues to the east and west," said Major Evaña. "Two parties of three men each, with a sergeant, will do. Any intelligence they may learn must be reported instantly."
"Are they Goths, Señor Don Carlos?" said Venceslao.
"Yes," replied Evaña.
The news that Goths were in the neighbourhood caused great excitement among the men. In ten minutes a number of them had caught and saddled their horses, and before sundown the scouting parties were out of sight.
Close to the encampment there was a small rancho, where Colonel Lopez had taken up his quarters. There Evaña lay down on a catreto rest, but was too much fatigued and excited either to sleep or to eat.
At midnight one of the scouts returned, with the intelligence that about midday a party of eighty men, escorting a galera, had crossed the Arrecifes river, and was believed to have halted for the night at the estancia of Don Lorenzo Pico, some five or six leagues further on, Major Evaña rose at once from his catre, telling Viana to put his troop under arms, while he himself ate some food which had been kept in readiness for him.
In half an hour Viana's troop were in the saddle, mounted on picked horses. A corporal with two men were sent off to San Nicolas with a despatch for the Colonel; the rest of the command had orders to collect the spare horses at dawn, and march with all speed for the Estancia de Pico.
A countryman who had come back with the scout offered to lead Evaña, and performed his task so well, that at a quiet trot the Major with his one troop reached the Estancia de Pico before sunrise.
The estancia house was a large azotea, with a courtyard behind, surrounded by a low wall. There was no outer ditch or fence of any kind. In spite of the caution with which they advanced, their approach was perceived by the garrison. A few men whom Evaña sent forward to reconnoitre were driven back by shots fired from the barred windows, and the rising sun glinted on a line of bright musket barrels behind the parapet of the flat roof. Don Roderigo was evidently prepared for a vigorous defence, but it was not Evaña's purpose to fight with Don Roderigo if he could avoid it.
Halting his men at a distance of 200 yards, Evaña drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, and, waving it over his head, rode forward alone to attempt a parley. Standing close to the parapet with his back to him he saw a man of medium stature wearing a hat similar to one he had been Don Roderigo wearing not many days before. He felt certain that this was Don Roderigo, and rode forward till he was within thirty yards of the house.
"Don Roderigo," he shouted, "I come to you as a friend."
Before he could say another word this man turned, took off his hat and bowed to him, disclosing the hated features of Don Ciriaco Asneiros at the same time shouting—
"Fuego!"
Evaña had just time to drive his spurs into his horse's flanks and rein him sharply back. The animal reared up, received a volley of balls in his chest and neck, and fell backwards, Evaña only just saving himself from being crushed underneath him.
At this sight Venceslao Viana and his men rushed forward with furious shouts, and, surrounding their leader as he lay on the ground, poured a random fire from their carbines upon the windows and parapet of the house, after which many of them galloped closer and struck with their sabres at the garrison through the bars of the windows. But their fury availed them little. Asneiros kept up a steady fire upon them from the parapet, several of them fell from their saddles, and more of them had their horses shot under them. Evaña, staggering to his feet, shouted to them to keep back. They were too excited to hear him, but Asneiros saw him.
"C——jo!" he screamed; "not dead yet!"
Then, pointing to him, he shouted to his men to take good aim and pick him off. Venceslao heard the words and put himself in front of him, calling to his men to rally round him. Three more of the troopers fell, but the rest, re-forming their broken ranks, retreated beyond musket-shot, Evaña retreating with them on foot. Nothing more could be done than to keep watch on the house until the arrival of reinforcements.
Several of the men being wounded, Evaña applied himself to binding up their wounds, and had just cut out a ball from the shoulder of one man with his penknife, when an exclamation caused him to look round. A troop of about fifty horsemen were coming towards them at a rapid gallop from the south-west. Their wide-brimmed hats, striped ponchos, and long lances showed that they were not the dragoons. Evaña mounted at once upon a trooper's horse, and, wheeling his men round, waited for them. At a distance of 100 yards they halted, and one man came galloping forward alone. He was a short, stout man, with fat, red cheeks almost destitute of beard, with curly hair, and dark, piercing eyes. In his hand he carried a long Indian lance, decked with ostrich plumes.
Reining up his fiery steed with the ease of a consummate horseman, he looked eagerly at Evaña. Then changing his lance to his bridle-hand, he removed his hat and bowed, saying:
"Have I the honour of speaking with the Señor Major Don Carlos Evaña?"
"Your servant, Señor," replied Evaña.
"I call myself Andres Zapiola, I am an hacendado of Arrecifes. Last night some scouts of yours came to my estancia and told me you were in pursuit of some mutineers. I have collected what men I could, I have the honour of placing them at your orders."
"Never could you have come at a more opportune moment," said Evaña, shaking hands warmly with his new ally. "We have had a skirmish with them already."
The men of both troops were ordered to dismount, while Major Evaña and Don Andres carefully reconnoitred the house at a safe distance. Don Carlos was much perplexed as to what he should do next, for he wished at all hazards to ensure the safety of Don Roderigo, and desired if possible to conceal the fact of his being with the mutineers. Don Andres advised him to give up all idea of attacking the place, assuring him that hunger would soon compel them to surrender.
"But then," Evaña thought to himself, "the delay may bring me more allies such as this, and it will be impossible to secure the escape of Don Roderigo."
As he thus thought, scanning eagerly the defences to the rear of the house, where the low wall round the courtyard offered no great obstacle to a vigorous assault, Asneiros solved his perplexity for him. The men were withdrawn from the azotea, and the courtyard which appeared full of horses, became the scene of busy preparation.
"They are going," said Evaña.
"Let them go," said Zapiola; "it may cost us some lives, but in the open camp we shall have them all the sooner."
Evaña looked on every side for the galera, it was nowhere to be seen. He turned rein, and they rode back to their men, telling each man to take his horse by the bridle and be ready to mount at the first note of the bugle. They had not long to wait, the iron gate in the low wall was thrown open, about forty men rode out and formed in column of march on the green sward outside, many of them led a second horse by the bridle. Behind them came the remainder of the small force on foot, with shouldered muskets and bayonets fixed.
"They have not horses to mount them all," said Evaña, "therefore we can overtake them when we please. If you will spread your men over the camp in front of them, Don Andres, and prevent them from catching fresh horses, I will follow you as soon as I have provided for my wounded and made some enquiries here."
Don Andres bowed, and taking up his long lance, which quivered like a reed in his grasp, he started off with his men at full gallop in pursuit. Evaña followed him as far as the house.
Asneiros halted as he saw the horsemen in pursuit, and facing round with his infantry, prepared to give them a warm reception, but instead of charging him, the Señor Zapiola and his horsemen galloped past him with wild shouts of defiance, and, spreading over the camp on his line of march, drove off all the cattle and horses from before him.
Asneiros again put his men in motion and marched steadily on for about a league, when he re-halted, and, mounting several of his infantry on the spare horses, ordered the rest to get up behind such of the others as were best mounted; he then gave the word to trot, and resumed his march at a much quicker pace.
Meantime Evaña had dismounted a number of his men, and had sent them round to the front of the azotea, where a number of his troopers lay wounded. Four of them were found to be dead, seven more were removed inside the house.
In the principal room of the house one man in the uniform of the grenadiers was found lying, shot through the heart. The house had been thoroughly ransacked, and not a living creature was to be found inside of it. In the courtyard were several horses lying about in the last stage of exhaustion.
Leaving a sergeant with three men to take charge of the wounded, Evaña, after remaining half an hour here, started in pursuit at a quick trot, but the march of the Spaniards was so rapid that it was two hours ere he rejoined Don Andres Zapiola. About a league further on there was a large estancia.
"Let us charge them at once," said Don Andres.
"Collect your men and support me," said Evaña. "We must not give them time to dismount."
The dragoons, who were marching four abreast, wheeled quickly into line, and led by Venceslao Viana dashed at full gallop upon the enemy, with uplifted sabres and a wild cry of "Death to the Goths!"
Evaña, galloping behind them with his sword drawn, had left the lead to Venceslao, so that he might devote his attention to protecting Don Roderigo in the melée.
But, quickly as the dragoons had performed their change of front; Asneiros had seen his danger. He halted at once, and ordered everyman to dismount and form up in front of the horses. His men had not been drilled to these manœuvres, and, being unaccustomed to riding, were sore and stiff with the rapid marches of the last two days. Before he could get them clear of the horses the dragoons were upon them. In vain he shouted to them to close up and fire, a random volley did not stop the dragoons for an instant; bending low on their horses' necks, so that they could hardly be seen, the shot flew over them; the flankers on both sides of the short line of infantry were swept away and trodden underfoot; a small knot in the centre alone stood firm, beating off the horsemen with their levelled bayonets.
Asneiros, who had remained on horseback, was carried away by the rush and separated from them. As soon as he recovered command of his horse, he turned rein and tried to cut his way through the disordered dragoons, coming, in the midst of the tumult, face to face with Evaña. Muttering a fierce execration he struck at him with his sword, but Evaña parried the blow, and Venceslao Viana, spurring his horse between them, clove him to the teeth with his sabre.
"Venceslao," said Evaña, "have you seen Don Roderigo, he was with these yesterday?"
"Don Roderigo! I have not seen him. If he is with those," said Venceslao, pointing to the small knot of infantry who yet stood firm, "we must be quick to save him."
A number of the dragoons riding round this group were firing upon them with their carbines, every shot telling on the close rank. Evaña galloped up to them, shouting to them to lay down their arms; a number of them did so; the next moment the horsemen of Don Andres Zapiola poured over them like an avalanche. Behind the rush of the partidarios the dragoons closed in, cutting down without mercy any who yet kept their feet.
With an aching heart Evaña rode over the field, while Viana called his men together by the bugle and so put a stop to the slaughter. Evana searched among both dead and wounded, frequently dismounting to turn over one lying on his face, but saw nothing of Don Roderigo.
The dragoons had taken some few prisoners, he inspected them, and casting his eye upon a young man who was not dressed in uniform he called him to him.
"What is your name?" he said.
"Joaquin Saurez, Señor, at your service."
"How do you come among these mutineers, you do not seem to be a soldier?"
"Señor, I had urgent necessity for money, and the Señor Major Asneiros gave me two doubloons to enlist in the regiment of Cordova."
"Well, Joaquin, you are mixed up in a bad business, but will you swear to me that you are not a deserter from some regiment in Buenos Aires?"
"By the Holy Virgin Maria and by all the saints I swear it to you, Señor. I never was a soldier, I do not know how to handle a musket. Señor, I will tell you how it was I came to enlist."
"I have no time to listen, but if you will answer me my questions, and I find your information correct, I will give you your liberty and a good horse, so that you may go where you like; if you deceive me,with your life you will pay for it. Now listen: was Major Asneiros your own leader?"
"He was the only one who gave any orders?"
"Were all here to-day who left Buenos Aires with you?"
"No, Señor. There was a gentleman with two servants who rode with us the first day, but we stopped that night at an estancia where there was a galera waiting for him."
"And he came with you in this galera yesterday as far as Pico's estancia?"
"Yes, Señor, we reached there soon after midday, and the men refused to travel any further. He picked out the best of the horses and went on."
"How many men went with him?"
"Four postillions and his two servants who were in the galera with him."
"Do you know who this gentleman was?"
"I heard his servants speak of him as Don Roderigo, and I have seen him before in Buenos Aires. I think he must be some powerful Señor, from the respect that the Major showed to him."
"Did you hear where he was going?"
"To Cordova, Señor. He was very angry that we would not march on yesterday, but some of the men could not sit their horses any longer."
As Evaña finished his examination the second party of the dragoons came up, driving a mob of horses before them. The whole of the dragoons dismounted and stood in a circle round these horses, while each man in his turn caught one. When all were supplied they turned the horses they had previously ridden adrift, and saddled these fresh ones.
Meantime Evaña had walked to where the body of Asneiros lay stretched on the ground in the charge of a dismounted dragoon. This man he told to search the pockets and give him all the papers he could find. The man found few papers on the body, but he found a leather belt round the waist, filled with gold coins. Evaña took the papers, but handing the belt to Viana told him to distribute the money among the men of both troops. He did not think it necessary to give any of it to the men of Don Andres, for they were busy plundering the slain for themselves.
Evaña was not long in making up his mind what to do. Stiff and fatigued as he was, and sore with the bruises he had received when his horse fell back with him, he yet determined to carry on his pursuit himself. Telling Viana to select twenty men from his troop, he gave up the command of the rest to the captain of the other troop; then, with many thanks to Don Andres Zapiola for his opportune assistance, he turned his horse's head to the north and galloped away, attended only by Viana, and a guide well acquainted with all the roads through Santa Fe, who had been found for him by Don Andres.
After them galloped the twenty picked troopers without any attempt at military array, driving before them some two score spare horses.