It was impossible to suppose that, in the two days Doña Hermosa spent in the prairie among the redskins, she could have met with a man whose appearance and manners could have touched her affections.
However, Don Torribio was soon compelled to acknowledge in spite of himself, that what he had at first taken for a girlish whim was a confirmed resolve; or, in one word, that if Doña Hermosa still preserved for him the friendship to which he had a right, as the companion of her childhood, her love, if she had ever felt it for him, had vanished for ever.
When once convinced of this certainty, he became seriously uneasy. The love he felt for his cousin was profound and sincere; he had let it grow into his heart too deeply to be easily eradicated. He saw all his plans of happiness in the future crumble together, and, his hopes once shipwrecked, resolved to have the indispensable explanation from the girl which should tell him how much he had to hope or fear.
It was with the intention of demanding this explanation from Doña Hermosa that, instead of returning to San Lucar, where he lived, he had desired thevaquerosto show him the way to the Hacienda del Cormillo. But as soon as his guides left him, and he found himself alone in front of thehacienda, his courage nearly evaporated. Foreseeing the result of the step he was about to take, he hesitated to enter the dwelling; for, like all lovers, in spite of the pain caused by the girl's indifference, he would have preferred to go on cheating himself with futile expectations, rather than learn a truth which would break his heart, by robbing him of all hope.
The struggle lasted a long time; more than once he made as if he would ride back; but at last reason conquered passion. He comprehended how difficult the position would be, both for Doña Hermosa and himself. Happen what might, he resolved to end it; and digging his spurs into the flanks of his horse, he galloped towards thehacienda, rightly fearing that, if he lingered longer, he would find no strength to accomplish the project he had formed.
When he arrived at El Cormillo, he was informed that Don Pedro and his daughter had gone hunting at sunrise, and would not return before theoración(time for mass).
"So much the better," muttered Don Torribio between his teeth, and with a sigh of satisfaction at the respite chance had so opportunely afforded him.
Without stopping for the refreshments offered him, he turned his horse's head in the direction of San Lucar, and galloped off, congratulating himself that the explanation he both dreaded and desired had been thus providentially delayed.
We must now introduce our readers to the Hacienda del Cormillo, two days later than the event we have just narrated.
Towards eight o'clock in the evening, two persons were seated in the drawing room of thehacienda, close to abrasero(brasier); for the nights were still cold.
A stranger opening the doors of this room could have fancied himself transported to the Faubourg St. Germain, it was so elegantly furnished in the French fashion. Parisian luxury was exhibited in the carpets, Parisian taste in the choice of the furniture. Nothing was forgotten,—not even a pianoforte by Erard, on which lay the scores of Parisian operas, nor a magnificent harmonium from the workshops of Alexandre; and as if to prove that glory travels far, and genius has wings, the novels and poems in fashion at Paris strewed a round table by Boule. Everything put you in mind of France and Paris, with the exception of the silverbrasero, which, with its glowing knots of olive wood, showed that you were in Spanish America. This magnificent withdrawing room was lighted up by candles of rose-coloured wax, in handsome chandeliers.
It was Don Pedro and his daughter who was seated by thebrasero. Doña Hermosa was clad in a dress of the greatest simplicity, which made her look still more charming. She was smoking a tiny cigarette, rolled in a maize leaf, which did not interrupt the flow of her conversation with her father.
"Yes," said she, "the most lovely birds in the world have been brought to thepresidio."
"Well,querida chica?" (my darling).
"It appears to me that my dearest father is not quite as gallant as usual tonight," she said, pouting a little, like a spoilt child.
"What do you know about that, señorita?" answered Don Pedro, laughing.
"What! Is it the truth?" she exclaimed, as she jumped from her seat, and clapped her hands together; "You have thought—"
"Of buying you the birds. Tomorrow you will see your feathered subjects, and your aviary stocked with parakeets, love birds, Bengalis, hummingbirds, and Heaven knows how many others. There are at least four hundred of them, you little ingrate!"
"Oh, how kind you are! And how I love you!" replied the girl, throwing herself into her father's arms, and kissing him a thousand times.
"That will do, that will do, little monkey! Do you want to stifle me with kisses?"
"What shall I do to show my gratitude for such kind forethought?"
"Poor little dear!" said he sadly; "I have only yourself to love now."
"Say to adore, my dearest father; for it is adoration you feel for me; and I too love you with all the strength of love which God has given me."
"And yet," said Don Pedro, in tones of gentle reproach, "you are not afraid of causing me uneasiness."
"I!" said Hermosa, beginning to tremble.
"Yes, you," he replied, threatening her with uplifted finger; "you are concealing something from me."
"Father!" she murmured softly.
"Daughter, a father's eye can pierce to the bottom of the heart of a girl of sixteen. Some extraordinary change has taken place in you these last few days: your thoughts are strangely preoccupied."
"You are right, father," she replied with a good deal of firmness.
"And what are you dreaming about, little girl?" asked Don Pedro, smiling to conceal his anxiety.
"About Don Torribio de Quiroga, father."
"Aha!" replied he, "Because you love him, I suppose?"
Doña Hermosa drew herself up, and assumed a serious expression.
"I!" said she, placing her hand on her bosom, "No! I deceived myself until today. I do not love Don Torribio, and yet I cannot help thinking of him, although I do not know why. Since his return from Europe, a change has come over him for which I cannot account. It seems to me, that he is not the same person who was brought up with me. His look pains, yet fascinates me; his voice raises a feeling of undefinable sorrow. Certainly, the man is handsome; his manners are noble, and his bearing that of a highbred gentleman: yet there is something nameless about him which chills me, and inspires invincible repugnance."
"How romantic!" said Don Pedro, laughing.
"Laugh at me! Mock me!" she replied, her voice trembling. "Shall I confess everything, father?"
"Speak confidently, dearest child."
"I will. I believe this man, whom I thought I loved, will bring evil upon me."
"Child," replied Don Pedro, kissing her forehead, "what ill could he do you?"
"Father, I cannot tell; but I dread it."
"Do you wish me to break with him, and not to admit him again?"
"Heaven forbid! It would certainly hasten the misfortune that threatens me."
"Pooh! you are a spoilt child! You grow whimsical, and amuse yourself by creating phantoms. All these fears and imaginary presentiments spring from your love for your cousin. The only way to restore your tranquillity is to marry you to him as soon as possible; and be sure, my dear, that is what I intend to do."
Doña Hermosa shook her head sorrowfully, and cast down her eyes, but she made no reply: she felt that her father had completely misunderstood her meaning, and that any attempt to bring him over to her wishes would be vain.
Just at that moment apeonannounced Don Torribio, who entered the room.
He was dressed in the latest Paris fashion; and the glare of the candles lighted up his handsome face.
Father and daughter both trembled; the one perhaps with joy, the other certainly with fear.
Don Torribio, after gracefully saluting Doña Hermosa, approached her and respectfully offered her a superb bouquet of exotic flowers. She took them with a forced smile, and, without looking at them, placed them on the table.
Soon after, other persons were announced: the governor, Don José Kalbris, and his staff; two or three other families—in all, about twenty people; and lastly, Don Estevan Dias, and Don Fernando Carril.
It was certainly impossible to recognise the hardy backwoodsman, the redoubtable bee-hunter, who a few days before had done Don Pedro and his daughter such signal service, in the elegant caballero who arrived in the company of themayor domoof the hacienda. His irreproachable bearing, his distinguished manner, in short, all about him, banished suspicion, or rather prevented comparison.
We have already said that Don Fernando Carril, although his life was wrapped in impenetrable mystery, was superficially known to all the best society in the provinces, and, thanks to the easy-going manners of the Mexicans, received in the best families. His presence at the hacienda was, therefore, nothing extraordinary. Nevertheless, his appearance excited lively curiosity in the guests; for it was a long time since Don Fernando had been seen at any entertainment.
Like Don Torribio, the hunter, when he entered the room, approached Doña Hermosa, bowed profoundly to her, and respectfully offered her a flower he held in his hand.
"Señorita," said he, in a voice full of suppressed emotion, "deign to accept this modest flower; it grows only in the desert," he added, significantly.
Doña Hermosa trembled at the sound of his voice, which she thought she had recognised; a lively blush rose to her cheeks; and dropping her eyes under the ardent gaze fixed upon her, she took the flower and placed it in her bosom, as she answered inarticulately:
"Everything that comes from the desert will be dear to me henceforth."
The conversation of the guests had by this time grown animated. The little incident passed without remark, except from one person, who, with that kind of intuition which springs from love and jealousy, had divined in Don Fernando one who, if not an openly declared rival, was, at least, preferred in secret.
This person was Don Torribio Quiroga.
Leaning towards Don Estevan, who chanced to be near him, he said, in a voice low indeed but perfectly distinct and audible to all: "What golden key does this man possess, whom nobody knows, by which he introduces himself into honourable families, where his presence is neither desired nor invited?"
"Ask him yourself, señor," said Don Estevan dryly; "he will most likely be able to explain his conduct satisfactorily."
"I shall follow your advice this instant, señor," answered Don Torribio haughtily.
"It is unnecessary, caballero; I heard your words perfectly," said Don Fernando.
His voice was calm, and he made a courteous bow to Don Torribio, while an ironical smile curled his lips for a moment.
All conversation had been suddenly broken off; a profound silence reigned over those present, and the looks of all were turned in curiosity towards the two men.
Doña Hermosa, pale and trembling, cast a look of entreaty on her father.
Don Pedro walked resolutely into the middle, of the room, and placed himself between the two caballeros.
"What does this mean, señores?" said he. "Is this the idea of propriety you have brought back from your travels in Europe, Don Torribio? Do you dare to turn my drawing room into lists wherein to break your lance in personal quarrels? What right have you to cavil at Don Fernando's presence here? You are not my son-in-law yet, as far as I know. I am master here, and can receive whom I think fit."
"Even cutthroats andsalteadores(highwaymen), cousin, if such is your good pleasure," replied the young man, with an ironical bow.
Don Fernando looked as if he were going to rush upon the man who had thus insulted him, but managed to contain himself.
"Will Don Torribio deign to explain himself," he said calmly, "and not speak in enigmas?"
"And whose fault is it, caballero, if I speak in enigmas? Are you not the cause of the mystery?"
"Enough, caballeros!" exclaimed Don Pedro; "He who utters another word on this subject, makes me his mortal enemy."
The two men bowed respectfully to the hacendero and separated, but not without having exchanged looks of terrible expression.
"Well, colonel," continued Don Pedro, addressing the governor, in the hopes of glossing over the lamentable altercation, "What news from La Ciudad? Is Mexico still tranquil?"
"Our great Santa Anna," replied the colonel, who was choking in his uniform, "has once more soundly beaten the audacious general who has dared to issue apronunciamiento(manifesto) against him."
"Thank God! Perhaps this victory will procure us the tranquillity of which commerce stands so much in need."
"Yes," said a rich hacendero, a neighbour of Don Pedro. "Communication has been so difficult of late, that we can forward nothing."
"Are the redskins at work?" asked a merchant, whom these words had troubled.
"No," said the governor; "there is no danger from them. The last lesson they got was a rude one, and they will not forget it. For a long time they have not dared to invade our frontiers."
An almost imperceptible smile curled the lips of Don Fernando. "You forget the Tigercat and his adherents," said he.
"Oh! the Tigercat is only a bandit," said the governor hastily. "Besides, Government is at this moment preparing an expedition against him, so as to finish, once and for all, with his band of brigands."
"It is an admirable idea," said Don Torribio, with a sarcastic sneer. "It is time this frontier should be cleared of the host of fellows, with more than equivocal habits, who infest it."
"I am quite of the same opinion; it seems a most sensible measure," said Don Fernando quietly, but giving back to his adversary a smile as bitter as his own.
"In case of invasion, do you think the Indians able to give the province much trouble?" asked the merchant.
"H'm!" said Don José, with a patronising air; "People entertain exaggerated ideas of these redskins; in fact, they are but miserable wretches."
Don Fernando smiled again; but this time the smile was savage and sinister.
"Señorgobernador," said he, "you are not quite right. To judge by the news you were good enough to communicate, I believe the Indians will keep quite peaceably at home, unless they are determined to tempt ill luck."
"¡Rayo de Dios!I should think so," replied the governor.
"Ah! Señorita," said Don Torribio, gracefully turning to Doña Hermosa, "may I pray of your kindness to let us hear that delicious song from theDomino Noir, which you sang to such perfection a few days ago?"
Doña Hermosa, darted a look from under her long lashes at Don Fernando. The latter's eyes conveyed a mute prayer of entreaty. Without further hesitation, she placed herself at the piano, and, in a pure and feeling voice, sang the romance in the third act.
"I remember having heard that delicious romance sung in Paris by Madame Demareau, that nightingale who flew away too soon," said Don Torribio, bowing gallantly to Doña Hermosa. "I know not whether you or she sang it with most taste and spirit."
She answered: "Cousin, you have lived too long in France."
"How so, señorita?"
"Because," she replied, with a smile as cold and keen as the point of a poniard, "France has made you a detestable flatterer."
"¡Bravo!" chuckled the fat governor, whose cheeks shook with delight. "You see Don Torribio, our creoles rival the Parisian ladies in the smartness of their repartee."
"Incontestably, colonel," answered Don Torribio. "But I can take my own part," he added in an undefinable tone; "I shall soon have my revenge." And he cast a glance at Don Fernando and Doña Hermosa, who were seated close to each other, which made the girl shudder with fear.
"Don Fernando, and you other caballeros, here present," said the governor, addressing the guests, "I hope that tomorrow you will attend theTe Deumto be sung in honour of our glorious Santa Anna."
"I shall have the honour," said Don Fernando. The others made a similar response.
"As for me," said Don Torribio, "you must excuse me, colonel; for business compels me to leave tonight."
"What!" cried Don Pedro, in astonishment; "You are going to travel tonight, cousin?"
"I am indeed, Señor Don Pedro; I am obliged to leave you, even though I have but just arrived."
"Well, that is a singular and most unforeseen resolution. Where are you going?"
"Excuse me if I keep the object of my expedition secret. Certain persons must not have the sole right of making mysterious excursions."
"Indeed!" said Don Pedro peevishly. "And do you intend to stay away long?"
"I hope not, but dare not say I am sure."
"So much the better. Come back to us as soon as you can; for," said he significantly, "your return will please all of us here."
"¿Quién sabe?" (who knows?) muttered Don Torribio, with a sinister expression.
Doña Hermosa, who overheard these two words, could no longer master her fears.
While Don Pedro and his cousin were exchanging these words, the girl Whispered to Don Estevan:
"Brother, tomorrow, after mass, I want to speak to you at my nurse's."
"To me, or to my friend?" said Don Estevan softly.
"To both," she answered, with feverish agitation.
Don Estevan and Don Fernando now retired with joyful hearts. The latter was sure that Doña Hermosa had recognised him.
The other visitors also gradually departed, till Don Torribio de Quiroga was left alone with his host.
"Cousin," said he, in a low and broken voice, as he bent down to the lady to bid her farewell, "I am about to begin a journey in which I shall incur considerable danger. May I hope you will remember the traveller in your prayers?"
Hermosa looked him in the face for an instant, and replied with an austerity unusual in her:
"Cousin, I cannot pray for the success of a journey the purport of which I do not know."
"Thanks for your frankness, señorita," he replied, without exhibiting emotion; "I shall not forget your words."
"So you are really going, Don Torribio?" said Don Pedro, who joined them at the moment.
"This very instant, cousin: all is ready for my departure."
"Then I wish you luck! I hope we shall soon hear from you?"
"Yes," he replied, with a singular expression; "you shall soon hear of me. Farewell!"
"What is the matter with your cousin,niña?" asked Don Pedro, when he found himself alone with his daughter: "His conduct tonight has been very strange."
Before she could answer, the door opened. "Thecapatazof the Hacienda de las Norias," said apeonwho had entered, "wishes to speak to Señor Don Pedro de Luna on affairs of consequence."
"Admit him instantly," replied Don Pedro to the domestic who had announced the arrival of thecapatazso pompously.
Don Torribio was terribly agitated when he left the house. He looked back, and cast a venomous eye on the windows of the room, on which he could see the graceful shadow of Doña Hermosa.
"Proud girl," said he in a terrible voice, "I hate you with all the power of the love I once felt for you! Soon, very soon, I will punish you for your disdain."
Then, wrapping his cloak around him, he rapidly took the direction of the nearestpatio(out-buildings), where he hoped to find his horse. Indeed, he found him there; apeonholding the bridle. Don Torribio seized the reins, threw thepeona piastre, flung himself into the saddle, and rode off at a gallop.
"Wagh!" said the Indian, picking up the money; "What ails the young master? One would think him mad. How he scampered off!"
In the meantime Don Torribio had left the hacienda behind him, and was making all haste on the road to San Lucar.
But he had not ridden more than a quarter of an hour, when suddenly, at a turn of the road, his horse gave a start of terror, reared, and flew round, with his ears laid close to his head. Don Torribio looked to see what had alarmed the animal.
A man of tall stature, mounted on a strong black horse, held the middle of the road four or five paces in advance of him, and completely barred his passage.
Don Torribio cocked a pistol.
"Holloa, caballero!" he cried in a sharp tone; "Move to the right or the left."
"Neither to one nor the other, Don Torribio de Quiroga. I want to speak to you."
"It is a singular demand at this time of night, and in such a place."
"I did not choose either time or place. Did you not receive a note without a signature today?"
"I did," said Don Torribio, striking his forehead; "and the note proposed—"
"To teach you things," hastily interrupted the stranger, "which it is important you should know at once."
"Those were the words contained in the note."
"It was I who sent it."
"Indeed?" said Don Torribio, surprised; "was it you?"
"Yes; and I am ready to satisfy you; but to do that, you must follow me."
"But what good will it do me to know these matters? Perhaps it would be better to leave them untold."
"As you please; I do not force you to listen to me. Everyone is free to act as he chooses. If you prefer to sit down under insult without avenging yourself, I have no objection."
These words were uttered with such a sneer, that Don Torribio could not help shuddering.
"Do you in truth offer me revenge?" he asked in a voice half stifled with the rage surging at his heart.
"You shall judge, if you will follow me."
"Demon!" cried Don Torribio, "Whoever thou may'st be, lead on, since it must be so! I will follow thee, even unto hell."
"Amen," said the stranger, with a sinister chuckle.
The two riders dashed into the darkness, and the sound of their furious pace was soon merged in profound silence.
Don Fernando and his friend, as we have related, left the hacienda a little before Don Torribio. They had made all haste to reach their dwelling. Thetertuliahad ended at nine o'clock; and by eleven they were at therancho.
Doña Manuela was expecting them. In a few words they reported to her all that had happened at thetertulia, and hastened to their couches; for they were obliged to leave again at daybreak, if they wished to arrive in good time at San Lucar without over-fatigueing Doña Manuela, who was to accompany them. In fact, according to agreement, they mounted their horses a little before four in the morning.
In Mexico, on account of the intense heat of the day, people generally travel by night; that is to say, from four in the morning till eleven, and from six in the evening till midnight. Nine o'clock struck as the three entered thepresidio. Don Fernando left his friend and the mother to find their way to the house he possessed in San Lucar, which he had placed at their disposal, while he himself repaired to the governor's house, whither affairs of grave importance called him.
The worthy governor overwhelmed the visitor with civilities,—for the latter had, on more than one occasion, rendered him important service,—and seemed unable to show him sufficient courtesy But, in spite of the efforts of his host, Don Fernando perceived that Don José Kalbris was a prey to anxiety, which all his sense of the attentions due to his guest did not enable him wholly to conceal.
Don José Kalbris was a brave and worthy soldier, true as his own steel, to whom the Mexican government had given the charge of thepresidioas a recompense for his valiant services during the War of Independence. For fifteen years the colonel had governed thepresidio, and, thanks to a certain degree of severity tempered by justice, and to his undoubted courage, had managed to keep it in a state of comparative tranquillity, in spite of the evil passions of thevaqueros—a set of rascals, three or four of whom he was obliged to garrote annually, in order to overawe the rest—and the continual raids of the Indians, who pushed up under the guns of the fort in their attempts to carry off cattle and make prisoners, the latter being their favourite booty, especially women.
Don José, endowed with moderate intelligence, but rich in experience, and warmly supported by the better classes, who had entire confidence in him, had contrived to maintain peace in his province without much difficulty up to the time of which we are now speaking. This denoted a certain strength of character in the old soldier, who was without education, and had made his own career, particularly when one takes into consideration the difficulty of his receiving support from his government; so that he was thrown on his own resources, and obliged to take the initiative, and act on his own responsibility, in all cases where he thought fit to exercise the strong arm of the law.
In person the governor was a tall, stout man with a purple and bloated face, perfectly self-satisfied, fond of hearing himself talk, and who laid great stress on every syllable he uttered.
Don Fernando, well acquainted with the colonel's character, and holding him in great esteem, was astounded at the uneasiness he displayed, and the change from his usual placidity of manner. Fancying that want of money might be at the bottom of his embarrassment, he resolved to sound him, and come to his aid, if that were necessary.
"Holloa!" said the colonel, "What good wind blows you to thepresidioso early, Don Fernando?"
"The wish to see you," replied the latter, pressing the hand the colonel extended.
"It is very kind of you. You will breakfast with me, of course?"
"I came to invite myself."
"That is right," said the colonel, striking a bell.
A domestic entered.
"This caballero will do me the honour to breakfast with me."
The servant, a well-trained soldier, disappeared.
"By the bye, Don Fernando, I have a heap of papers here addressed to you."
"Thank Heaven! I was afraid they had been delayed. I want them particularly, for certain reasons."
"So much the better, then," said the colonel, producing the papers, which Don Fernando put into his pocket.
"Breakfast is ready," said the same man who had appeared an instant before.
The governor and his guest proceeded to the breakfast room, where they found a third person waiting for them. This was a Major Barnum, an old Englishman, tall, dry, thin, and formal; as brave a soldier as ever existed; for twenty years in the service of the Mexican Republic; devoted heart and soul to the country of his adoption; and second in command in thepresidioof San Lucar.
He and Don José had seen much service together, and were attached to each other like two brothers; resuscitating in this out of the way corner of the world the fables of Castor and Pollux Damon and Pythias, and all the other heroes of ancient friendship.
Don Fernando and Major Barnum were slightly acquainted with each other, and glad of the meeting; for the Englishman was an excellent fellow, and hid a warm and loyal heart under his rather cold manner.
After the usual greetings, all three placed themselves at table, and commenced a vigorous attack on the delicacies with which the board was abundantly supplied.
When the first keen relish of appetite had been appeased, the conversation became more lively, and at the close of the meal grew quite amicable and confidential.
"By the bye, what is the matter with you, Don José?" said Don Fernando. "There is something odd about you today, which I have never seen before."
"Right," said the governor, draining a glass ofJerez de la Frontera(sherry); "I feel sad."
"You sad! You astonish me. If I had not noticed your appetite at breakfast, I should think you were ill."
"Well," said the soldier, with a sigh, "my appetite is good."
"Then what is there to vex you?"
"I have a presentiment of evil," said the governor, seriously.
"A presentiment of evil!" echoed the major. "I know that at first sight it seems ridiculous for old soldiers like ourselves to attach importance to such folly, which is only, at the best, the result of a diseased imagination. Nevertheless, I too feel like the colonel: I am uneasy without knowing why; I expect every moment to receive evil tidings. In two words, I am firmly convinced some great danger is impending. I feel it, I know it, without being able to guess whence it is to come."
"Ah," said the governor, "the major has just described my own sensations. Long as my career as a soldier has been, I have never felt so anxious and oppressed as now. I have been in this state of excitement a whole week, and am astonished nothing has happened to justify my forebodings. Don Fernando, God does give warnings of danger to man."
"I do not deny the truth of what you propound. I know you too well to have the least intention to question your conviction. But still, how is it to be accounted for? You and Major Barnum are not men to be afraid of a shadow, or easily scared; you have proved that a thousand times. Has nothing occurred to confirm your presentiment?"
"Nothing as yet," replied the governor; "but I momentarily expect bad news."
"Come, come, Don José!" said Don Fernando gravely; "you are suffering from an attack of a malady very common in the major's country, where they call it 'the blue devils.' It is a kind of spleen, caused by the fogs in England. Listen to me: get yourself bled—do not spare the wine cup; and in a couple of days you will be the first to laugh at the trick your fancy has played you. Do you not think so, major?"
"I wish it were so," said that officer, shaking his head.
"Pooh!" said Don Fernando; "Life is short enough already. What is the use of creating bugbears to frighten ourselves? And besides, who is there to give you trouble?"
"¿Quién sabe?We are never sure of anything on the frontiers."
"Nonsense! The Indians have grown as quiet as lambs."
Just then a servant opened the door, and beckoned to the governor.
"What do you want?" said the latter.
"Señor," replied the servant, "avaquero, just arrived in all haste, requests an audience. He is the bearer of important intelligence."
This announcement fell like a sheet of ice on the three caballeros, and thoroughly stopped the flow of their fictitious gaiety.
"Let him come in," said the colonel.
Then casting a look of inconceivable sadness on Don Fernando, he added:
"It is fate herself who undertakes to answer you!"
"We shall see!" replied Don Fernando with a forced smile.
Heavy footsteps were heard in the adjacent apartments, and thevaqueroentered.
It was Pablito.
The man had indeed the look of one who brings bad news. He seemed to have just left the battlefield—to have escaped from a massacre. His clothes hung in rags, stained with mud and gore; his face, pale as death, had an expression of sadness very strange in such a man. It was with difficulty he held himself upright, so dreadfully jaded he seemed by the struggle he had had to reach thepresidio. His spurs left a bloody mark on the floor at every step; and he was forced to support himself on his rifle.
The three men looked at him with mingled fear and pity.
"Here," said Don Fernando, pouring out a tumbler of wine; "drink this; it will restore you."
"No!" said Pablito, thrusting back the glass; "I thirst for blood, not wine!"
These words were uttered in such a tone of hatred and despair, that the listeners involuntarily turned pale, and shuddered with horror.
"What has happened?" said the colonel, in deep anxiety.
Thevaquerowiped the cold sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and said, in short, sharp accents, which struck terror into his hearers:
"The Indians are upon us!"
"Have you seen them?" asked the major.
"Yes," said he abruptly; "I have seen them."
"When was that—today?"
"This very morning, colonel."
"Far from hence?"
"About twenty leagues. They have already crossed the Rio del Norte."
"Already! How many are there? Do you know."
"Count the sand grains in the desert, and you will know."
"God!" said the colonel; "it is impossible. The Indians cannot assemble in such numbers in the course of a day. Your fears have deceived you."
"Fears!" said Pablito, laughing derisively. "Fear is very well for you who live in towns; in the wilderness we have no time to make her acquaintance."
"Well, then, how are they coming?"
"Like a tornado, burning and pillaging as they come."
"Is it their intention to attack thepresidio?"
"They have formed an immense half moon, the two horns of which are nearing you every moment."
"Are they still a good way off?"
"Yes; for they are acting on a preconceived plan, establishing themselves firmly in places capable of defence, and apparently not governed by the sole instinct of pillage; but, as it would seem, obeying the directions of a chief who understands the art of war, and whose influence is felt in all their movements."
"This looks serious," said the governor.
The major shook his head.
"Why have you waited so long before you warned us?" said he.
"This morning, at daybreak, my comrades and I were surrounded by more than two hundred of these demons, who seemed to rise out of the ground. We defended ourselves like lions: one is dead; two of us are wounded, but we managed to escape; and here I am."
"Get back to your post as soon as possible; they shall give you a fresh horse."
"I will be off directly, colonel."
Thevaquerosaluted and left them. Five minutes later, they heard his horse's hoofs clattering over the stony road.
"Well," said the colonel, looking at the two others; "what did I tell you? Did my forebodings lie?"
Don Fernando rose.
"Where are you going?" asked the colonel.
"Back to the Hacienda del Cormillo."
"At once! Without finishing your breakfast?"
"This instant. I am torn by indescribable anxiety. The Indians may attack the hacienda; and God knows what may happen."
"El Cormillo is fortified, and cannot be taken by acoup-de-main. However, I think Doña Hermosa would be safer here. Try, if there is time, to induce Don Pedro to return: no one can foresee the issue of an invasion undertaken on such a scale; and one cannot take too many precautions. I should be glad to see Don Pedro and his daughter safe among us."
"Thank you, colonel; your advice is excellent. I will use every effort to induce Don Pedro to follow it. Good-bye. I venture to flatter myself that an energetic demonstration on your part will rid us of these ferocious foes, whose tactics are always to attempt a surprise, and who disappear as suddenly as they came the moment they find their plans have been discovered."
"God grant it! But I scarcely hope as much." "Farewell, caballeros, and good luck!" said Don Fernando, pressing the hands of the two old soldiers.
Don Estevan was waiting for him in the court, and joined him as soon as he appeared.
"Well," said themayor domo, "you have heard the news? The Indians are coming like the locusts."
"Yes; I have heard so."
"What do you intend to do?"
"To return to the hacienda at once."
"H'm! That would be scarcely prudent. You know how speedily these demons spread themselves over all the country; we should most likely meet some of them."
"Well! We will ride over their corpses."
"¡Canarios!I dare say. But you may be killed."
"Pooh! Doña Hermosa expects me; and I am not killed yet."
"True; but you may be."
"Well, we shall see."
"Probably so. However, as I foresaw the objections you would make, I have arranged everything to go. The horses are ready saddled, thepeonesin waiting: we will set off as soon as you choose."
"Thanks, Estevan; you are really a friend."
"I know it," said the latter, with a gay smile. Estevan Diaz whistled shrilly, and thepeonesentered the court, leading two horses by their bridles.
"Let us be off," said Don Fernando, springing into the saddle.
"Let us be off," repeated Don Estevan.
They gave the horses their heads, and began to push their way slowly through the crowd of idlers assembled before the gates of the fortress to learn the latest news, and trotted down the steep incline leading from the fort to the oldpresidio, replying, as well as they could, to the questions with which they were assailed on all sides. As soon as they had threaded the town, they increased their speed along the road to the Hacienda del Cormillo, without noticing the repeated signals of several more than suspicious-looking individuals, carefully wrapped in thick cloaks, who had followed them at a distance since they left the fort, talking eagerly the while to each other.
It was a stormy day. The sky was gray and lowering; the birds wheeled screaming around; and the wind, blowing in squalls, roared in the deep defiles of the road, filling the air with clouds of impalpable dust.
The twopeoneswho had brought the news of the Indians' march upon thepresidiorode twenty paces in advance, and scanned the country on each side of the road with startled looks, expecting every instant to see the redskins make their appearance, and to hear the dreaded war whoop. Don Fernando and Don Estevan rode side by side, without exchanging a syllable, each sufficiently occupied by his own thoughts.
In the meanwhile, the nearer the travellers got to the river, the more the storm increased in intensity. The rain fell in torrents, the lightning flashed incessantly, and the peals of thunder rolled majestically among the high cliffs, from which enormous crags were constantly detached, and hurled crashing into the river.
The storm had reached such a pitch of fury, that the riders had the greatest difficulty in making progress, and were in constant danger of falling with their horses, which were plunging wildly in their fright at the tempest. The ground, soaked with rain, afforded no foothold for the poor brutes: they slipped and stumbled at every step, snorted violently, and threatened to break down.
"It is impossible to get farther," said themayor domo, picking up his horse from a plunge which had nearly unseated him.
"But what is to be done?" asked Don Fernando, looking about him with great anxiety.
"I think we had better take shelter under this clump of trees for a while: the storm grows worse and worse. It is folly to pursue our journey while it lasts."
"Let us go, if we must," said Don Fernando resignedly.
Accordingly they turned towards a small copse on one side of the road, which seemed to offer some little shelter from the intensity of the storm.
They were only a few paces from it, when four men, their faces covered with black masks, rushed out of the wood, and dashed at the travellers, whom they attacked without uttering a word. Thepeonesfell from their saddles, knocked over by two shots from the masked strangers, and rolled on the ground in convulsive agony, uttering the most piteous cries.
Don Fernando and Don Estevan, astonished at this sudden attack by men who could not be Indians,—for they were dressed likevaqueros, and their hands were white,—instantly dismounted, and, placing themselves behind their horses, awaited their assailants' onset with cocked rifles.
The latter, after making sure of the death of thepeones, turned their horses' heads to attack the two Spaniards. Shots were again exchanged, and a terrible combat began,—a dreadful struggle of two men against four—in which no word was spoken, and which was intended to end in the death of those who had been so treacherously set upon. However, the combat was sustained with a semblance of equality which discouraged the assailants, of whom one had already fallen, cut down to the teeth; while a second was retreating, with his chest pierced through by the good blade of Don Fernando.
"Aha! my masters," exclaimed the latter; "have you had enough, or do you wish to make further acquaintance with my blade? Fools that you are! You should have set at least ten to assassinate us."
"What!" added themayor domo, "Are you already satisfied? You are not clever enough for highwaymen; the man who pays you might have made a better choice."
In fact, the two remaining men in masks had withdrawn a few paces, and held themselves on the defensive.
Suddenly four other masked men appeared, and all six rushed upon the Spaniards, who awaited them firmly.
"The devil! I wronged you by my suspicion," said Don Estevan. "I see you are up to your work;" and he discharged a pistol point-blank into the midst of his adversaries.
The latter, still without a word, answered his fire, and the struggle was renewed with fresh fury.
But the two brave Spaniards could not defend themselves much longer: they were exhausted with fatigue; and it was not long before they, in their turn, fell on the dead bodies of two more of their assailants, whom they had sacrificed to their fury before they fell.
When they saw Don Fernando and Don Estevan stretched on the ground, the strangers uttered a shout of triumph. Without troubling themselves about themayor domo, they seized the body of Don Fernando, threw it over the neck of one of their horses, and rapidly vanished amongst the manifold complications of the road.
The tempest continued to rage with fury. A lugubrious silence reigned in the spot where this tragedy had been acted, and where seven corpses were now lying, round which the vultures and hideouszopilotes, uttering their hoarse cries, began to sail in narrowing circles.
When Don Fernando left them, the governor and the major remained perfectly mute a while, overcome by the gravity of the news they had just received. But a state of prostration so much at variance with the character of the two veterans, whose life had been spent in active service, could not last long. They soon recovered their animation, like two noble steeds who prick up their ears at the signal for the charge; their features resumed their usual expression of imperturbability; and, having exchanged a shake of the hand; they left the apartment.
"The shock has been a rude one, and I was far from expecting it," said the colonel; "but,¡vive Dios!the pagans shall find out whom they have to deal with. Major, have the officers' call sounded we will hold a council of war, to concert measures of defence."
"That is right," replied the major; "just what you ought to do. I had rather see you thus—proud, resolute, and stern—than troubled and anxious, as you have looked these last few days.Caray!you are yourself again, now, my good friend."
"Well," said the governor, smiling, "you ought not to be astonished at the change, my dear Barnum. For some time past I have been sadly oppressed by vague forebodings, and the ill they threatened seemed the greater, because I could not divine what it might be. Now the stroke has fallen, I know what I have to do. I have not the least doubt that the danger which menaces us is immense, but we know what the result will be."
"Quite true," said the major, leaving him to obey the orders he had received from his chief.
The officers of the garrison were soon assembled around the governor; there were six of them, without counting the major and colonel. Don José Kalbris invited them to be seated, and then addressed them:
"Caballeros, you are aware why I have sent for you: the Indians threaten us once more. I have just got the information from one of our bravest scouts—in fact, the most faithful and intelligent of them all. It is a grave case, señores; for the Indians have leagued themselves together, and are marching against us in great force. I have caused you to meet here, in order to organise a vigorous defence, and to endeavour to discover the means of giving these savages so sharp a lesson, that it will be a long time before they dream of invading our territories again. But, first of all, let us see what means are at our disposal."
"We have plenty of arms and ammunition," said the major. "We have two hundred thousand pounds of powder, abundance of muskets, sabres, lances, and pistols; and the guns are in good condition, and amply supplied with round shot and grape."
"A capital account," said the colonel, rubbing his hands for joy.
"Unfortunately," continued the major, "although we have plenty of arms, we have very few men fit for service."
"How many men have we?"
"The effective state should be two hundred and seventy; but, unluckily, disease, death, and desertion have reduced them to a hundred and twenty."
"The deuce!" said the colonel, shaking his head; "But I think we might manage to increase the number. We are in one of those critical positions where the end sanctifies the means: we must not be nice in our choice. Besides, the common safety is in question. I trust to meet with no opposition to the execution of a plan which I hope will save us all."
"What is it? We all go hand and hand with you."
"I know that very well. I do not allude to you, señores, but to the inhabitants of the town, who will reject it, and with whom we shall be obliged to have recourse to forcible measures. It is of the last importance to make an imposing show of men on the walls. Now, this is what I propose: all thepeonesof thehaciendasshall be enrolled, and formed into companies; the merchants shall form another corps; the haciendas, well mounted and armed, shall defend the approaches, and patrol the plain. By these means, we shall muster an effective force of about eleven hundred men,—a number quite sufficient to hold the savages in check, and force them to retreat precipitately to their villages."
"You must recollect, colonel, that the greater number of thevaqueroshere are criminals, to whom any disturbance is a pretext for plunder."
"For that reason, I have appointed them the exterior defence of the place. They shall encamp outside thepresidio, into which they shall not enter on any pretence. To lessen the chance of a mutiny amongst them, they shall be formed into two divisions—one of which shall be constantly employed in scouring the neighbourhood, while the other remains in camp. Thus, by keeping them always at work, we shall have nothing to fear from them."
"As for the creoles, and the strangers at present in thepresidio," said the major, "I think you had better order them to assemble in the fort every night: we shall be able to use them in case of necessity."
"Very good. You will also double the number of scouts, the better to avoid a surprise. You will also have the entrances to the place barricaded, to check the tremendous charges the Indians make when they attack a position."
"Permit me to propose, colonel, that a man to be depended upon should be despatched to put the hacenderos on their guard, and warn them to take refuge in the fort at the signal of three guns, to announce the approach of the Indians."
"It shall be done, major; or these poor fellows would be all massacred by the pagans. The inhabitants of the town must also be warned to retire—the women into the fort—as soon as the Indians are visible, or they may be carried off. The savages are partial to white women, and in the last inroad carried off three hundred: such a piece of misfortune must not happen again. I think, señores, we have taken every precaution against the threatened danger; we have now only to do our duty as brave men. Our fate is in the hands of God, who will surely not abandon us in circumstances of such great peril."
The officers rose, and were preparing to take leave of their chief, when anothervaquerowas announced as bringing reports to the governor.
Don José made signs to his officers to retain their seats, and ordered the scout to be introduced.
It was Tonillo el Zapote, Pablito's friend. He had left the place where they had hidden themselves to watch the movements of the Indians four hours after his comrade, and yet had arrived at thepresidioonly an hour later,—sure proof of the importance of the news he bore.
He looked as impudent and sneering as ever. His face was pale, and smeared with blood and powder; his dress was torn in many places; while the bandage round his head, one arm in a sling, and, more than all, three or four scalps which hung bleeding from his girdle, showed that he had had a hard tussle with the Indians, and been obliged to cut his way through them to reach thepresidio.
"Zapote!" said the governor; "your comrade, Pablito, has just left me."
"I know, colonel," answered thevaquero.
"Have you brought us worse tidings than his?"
"That depends upon the light in which you look upon them, señores."
"What do your words imply?"
"Oh!" was the reply, while the speaker swayed himself carelessly from side to side; "If you love your ease, it is very probable it would be troubled before long, and, in that case, the news I bring cannot be very pleasant to you; but if you are fond of mounting to meet the redskins, you can easily gratify your whim, and all I have to tell you will be very acceptable."
Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation and the anxiety they felt, the governor and his officers could not help smiling at the singular logic of thevaquero.
"Explain, Zapote," said Don José; "we shall then know what to think of your tidings."
"Hardly ten minutes after my comrade left me, I was rummaging in the bushes, which seemed to me to have an odd kind of motion, when I discovered apeon, whose terror was so great, that it took me a good half hour to get him to describe the dangers from which he had escaped. The fellow belonged to a poor old man called Ignacio Rayal, one of the two solitary individuals who escaped from the massacre of the inhabitants of the peninsula of San-José by the Apaches in the last invasion, twenty years ago. Thepeonand his master were looking for firewood, without dreaming of danger, when the Indians suddenly started up close by. The former had time to hide himself in a drain; but the old man, too feeble to save himself, fell into the hands of the savages, who butchered him with all the refinements of their horrid barbarity. His body was riddled with wounds, till his own mother would not have known him; he had received twenty lance thrusts; and his head was smashed to atoms with tomahawks. I left thepeonto watch in our ambuscade, after I had restored his courage as well as I could, and, proceeding in the direction he pointed out, was not long in seeing a host of Indians driving before them a multitude of cattle and prisoners. These fellows put everything to sack and fire on their route; they were marching rapidly on thepresidio, and detached parties at intervals to destroy the haciendas on their road. The haciendas of Piedra Rosa and San Blas are no longer standing; they are now a heap of ashes, under which their unfortunate owners lie buried. These are my tidings; make what you like out of them, señores."
"And these scalps?" said the governor, pointing to the bloody trophies hanging at thevaquero'sgirdle.
"Oh! These are nothing," he replied, with a smile of triumph; "as I had got too near the Indians, in the hope of getting a better idea of their force and intentions, they saw me, and naturally wanted to lay hands on me; so we had a bit of a skirmish."
"I presume these Indians are a party of pillagers from the wilderness, who want to steal cattle, and will retire when they have collected enough booty."
"Hm!" said Tonillo, shaking his head; "I am not sure of that. There are too many of them; they are too well equipped. Colonel, these fellows have another object: unless I am greatly mistaken, they intend to wage war to the knife against us."
The governor exchanged looks with his officers.
"Thank you, Zapote," said he; "I am pleased with you. Your conduct has been that of a loyal Mexican. Return to your post, and be doubly vigilant."
"You may rely on my comrades and me, colonel. You know, we do not exactly love the Indians," said Tonillo, who saluted and left them.
"You see, señores," said the governor, "that the situation grows more critical every minute. We will lose no more time in deliberation. You may go."
"One moment," said the major; "I have a piece of advice to give before we separate."
"Let us hear it, old friend."
"No precaution must be omitted in the perilous circumstances which surround us. We are here in an out-of-the-way place, far from any speedy and efficacious support. We may have to sustain a siege in thepresidio, and run the risk of being starved out. I propose that a vessel be immediately despatched to the governor general of the state, to apprise him of our critical position, and to request reinforcements; for it is impossible, with our scanty forces, to hold out long against the invasion."
A profound and solemn silence followed this speech.
"What do you think of Major Barnum's advice?" said the colonel to his officers.
"We agree to it," said one of them, speaking in the name of the others; "and we think it ought to be put into execution without delay."
"I am of the same opinion," said Don José; "let it be so. Caballeros, you may retire."
And now they began to organise the defence with an energy inconceivable to those acquainted with the Spanish character, and the profound laziness which is one of its principal failings.
The terrible danger menacing them made all the inhabitants of thepresidioresponsible for each other; it seemed to give courage to those who had none, and redouble the ardour of the others.
Two hours later, troops of cattle were driven in and parked in the town, the streets barricaded, the guns supplied with ammunition, and the women and children shut up in the buildings within the fort.
A vessel had been despatched to the capital of the state, as had been agreed on in council; and a hundred and fifty resolute men intrenched themselves in the oldpresidio, the houses of which they loopholed, in order to make head against the Indians when they appeared.
The governor and Major Barnum seemed to multiply themselves; they were ubiquitous; encouraging the newly enlisted, helping the workmen, and speaking hope to all.
About three o'clock in the afternoon, a strong wind arose, bringing with it from the south-west volumes of thick smoke, obstructing the view of objects at a distance. It was caused by the conflagration throughout the country. The anxiety of the inhabitants increased tenfold, as the direction from which it came proved that it could only arise from the doings of the Indians.
The Indian tribes always have recourse to this measure when they intend to invade the territories of the whites; an excellent aid to their system of attack by surprise, for, by shrouding the country in smoke, they prevent the scouts discovering them from afar, and are more easily able to conceal their numbers and motions.
On the day in question, the Indians, unhappily for the Mexicans, succeeded better than their wont; for the wind drove the smoke across the open, and one could scarcely distinguish objects at ten paces off.
It must be allowed, that in a country so uniformly level as the prairies, which afford no points to mask a march, and where nothing is easier than to find out the enemy's whole strength, the stratagem employed by the Indians is as simple as it is ingenious.
The scouts came galloping in one after the other, to report to the governor the approach of the enemy, who, according to their calculations, would reach thepresidioof San Lucar that same night.
The masses of Indians increased every moment. Their hordes covered the open; they marched with inconceivable rapidity, and seemed to concentrate all their forces on the lucklesspueblo.
The governor ordered the three alarm-guns to be fired. Immediately one saw the poorrancheros(cottagers) of the plain trooping in crowds into the town, bringing with them their cattle and furniture, and shedding tears of rage and despair at the sight of their harvests blazing in all directions.
The poor men encamped as they best could in the squares of thepueblo;and after sending their women and children into the fort, all able to bear arms rushed to the barricades, resolved to make those pay dearly who had been the cause of their ruin.
Terror and consternation reigned throughout the town: nothing was heard but sighs and lamentation; and night came, to add horror to the situation by enveloping the earth in darkness.
Strong patrols paraded the streets incessantly; and at times hardyvaqueros, gliding like serpents through the obscurity, ventured two or three hundred paces from the walls, to assure themselves that no immediate danger threatened thepresidio.
Things remained in this state till about two in the morning, when, in the midst of the mournful silence brooding over the town, a slight noise, scarcely perceptible at first, was heard. It grew louder every moment, and all of a sudden, as if by enchantment, and without any one being able to guess how they got there, the Apaches crowned the barricades of thepresidio, brandishing flaming torches and uttering the war whoop.
For a moment the inhabitants thought the town was taken; but Major Barnum, who commanded at this post, was too old a soldier, and too accustomed to Indian warfare, to be deceived by their stratagem. At the moment the Apaches were about to cross the barricades, a well-sustained fire opened suddenly upon them, and drove them from the intrenchments much faster than they had scaled them.
The Mexicans charged with the bayonet: for one moment there was a frightfulmêlée, from the midst of which rose cries of agony, maledictions, and the sharp clang of steel crossing steel; then the whites regained their position; the Indians disappeared; the town, illumined for so short a time by the blaze of the torches, was again enveloped in darkness; and the silence, broken by the few minutes of onslaught, was once more complete.
This was the only attempt that night. The Indians were up to their work; having failed in their boldcoup-de-main, they would, in all probability, convert the attack into a blockade, if they were determined to take the town; or they might retreat altogether, if their miscarriage had led them to despair of mastering it.
But at daybreak this latter illusion vanished; the Indians seemed to have no inclination to beat a retreat.
The country presented a most afflicting spectacle; everything was burnt down, and the disorder frightful. In one place a band of mounted Apaches were driving before them the horses and cattle they had stolen; in another, nearer the town, and facing towards it, a strong body of warriors, with poised lances, watched the movements of the inhabitants of thepresidio, with the intention of repelling any sortie that might be attempted; behind them, women and children were chasing the cattle, which were lowing with anger at being forced to quit the pastures; here and there prisoners, men, women, and children, driven on by blows of the lance, lifted their hands in vain supplication, and painfully dragged themselves forward amidst their captors. Lastly, as far as the eye could see, long files of Indians were hastening up on every side, while others drove in the pickets, or builtcallis(huts); and the town was completely surrounded.
Then an unheard-of circumstance occurred—a circumstance which the most experienced soldiers in the fort had never witnessed in all their previous encounters with the Indians, viz. the order that ruled through all this disorder; that is to say, the manner in which thecalliswere grouped, the serried and disciplined march of the infantry, the precision of their movements; and, what particularly upset all the arrangements of the colonel and major, the drawing of a parallel about the place, and throwing up an earthwork with immense rapidity, so as to shelter the Apaches from the fire of the guns.
"¡Sangre de Dios!" exclaimed the colonel, with an angry stamp; "those wretches have a traitor among them; they have never made war in this fashion before."
"Hem!" said the major, pulling at his moustache; "We shall have to tilt against rude jousters."
"Yes," replied the colonel; "and if succour does not arrive from the city, I do not exactly see how this is to end."
"Badly, colonel.¡Caray!I am afraid we shall lose our hides here. Look! There are more than three thousand of them, without counting those who are still coming and blackening the plain on all sides. But what is the meaning of this noise?" he added, as he turned in the direction whence the notes of a trumpet proceeded.
Four sachems, dressed in white, and preceded by an Indian bearing a white flag, had halted at half-gunshot from the first barricade at the oldpresidio.
"What can this mean?" said the colonel; "They seem to demand a parley. Do they think I am fool enough to fall into the snare? Major, a hatful of grape for that group of pagans! We'll teach them to take us for dolts!"
"I think you are wrong, colonel, and that it would be better to parley with them; in that way we shall learn their intentions."
"You may be right, my good friend; but who will be fool enough to risk his life among these lawless bandits?"
"I, if you will permit me," answered the major.
"You!" cried Don José, in astonishment.
"Yes; is it not our duty to suffer no means to escape us by which we may save the wretched people confided to our honour? I am only one man; my life is of little importance to the defence of thepresidio, and the step I am about to take may save it."
The colonel stifled a sigh, pressed his old friend's hand affectionately, and exclaimed, in a voice half choked with the emotion he vainly endeavoured to suppress:
"Go, since you insist upon it."
"Thanks," said the major joyfully. And he turned with a firm step in the direction of the barricade.