Chapter Thirty Three.“Is it a Grito?”The soldiers of the guard had grounded arms, and were sauntering back to their benches, when something came into the sergeant’s mind which caused him misgiving.Was it possible he had been paying honours to those undeserving of them?He was sure of it being the carriage of Don Ignacio Valverde; his horses and livery too. But nothing more. None of the party was known to him as belonging to Don Ignacio’s family or servants. For José was but groom or second coachman, who occasionally drove out his young mistress, but never to the Palace, or other place where the sergeant had been on duty.Equally a stranger to him was the big fellow on the box, who had hold of the reins, as also one of the gentlemen inside. It occurred to him, however, that the face of the other was familiar—awakening the memories of more than ordinary interest.“Mil diablos!” he muttered to himself as he stood gazing after the retreating equipage. “If that wasn’t my old captain, Don Ruperto Rivas, there isn’t another man in Mexico more like him. I heard say he had turnedsalteador, and they’d taken him only the other day.Carria! what’s that?”The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from thegarita, still going on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase its speed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was this from any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip, as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box several times raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again. Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for? And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfied with the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to prevent it, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of the party were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when they passed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might be expected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegant light equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of a Cabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! a gun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military college of Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringing of bells. First those of the Cathedral, then of the Acordada, and the convent of San Francisco, with other convents and churches, till there was a clangour all over the city!Hark again! A second gun from the citadel, quickly followed by another from Chapultepec, evidently signals and their responses!“What thedemoniois it? Apronunciamento?” Not only did the sergeant thus interrogate, but all the soldiers under his command, putting the question to one another. It would be nothing much to surprise them, least of all himself. He was somewhat of a veteran, and had seen nigh a score of revolutions, countingententes.“I shouldn’t be surprised if it is,” he suggested, adding, as a third gun boomed out from the citadel; “it must be agrito!”“Who’s raising it this time, I wonder?” said one of the soldiers, all now in a flurry of excited expectancy.Several names of notedmilitarioswere mentioned at a venture; but no one could say for certain, nor even give a guess with any confidence. They could hardly yet realise its being the breaking out of apronunciamento, since there had been no late tampering with them—the usual preliminary to revolutions.It might not be, after all. But they would be better able to decide should they hear the rattle of small arms, and for this listened they all ears.More than one of them would have been delighted to hear it. Not that they disliked therégimeof the Dictator, nor the man himself. Like all despots he was the soldiers friend; professed and giving proofs of it, by indulging them in soldierly licence—permission to lord it over the citizen. But much as they liked “El Cojo” (Game leg), as they called him, agritowould be still more agreeable to them—promising unlimited loot.The sergeant had views of his own, and reflections he kept to himself. He felt good as sure there was something up, and could not help connecting it with the carriage which had just passed. He now no longer doubted having seen his old captain in it. But how came he to be there, and what doing? He had been in the city, that’s certain—was now out of it, and going at a speed that must mean something more than common. He could get to San Augustin by that route. There were troops quartered there; had they declared for the Liberals?It might be so, and Rivas was on his way to meet and lead them on to the city. At any moment they might appear on thecalzada, at the corner round which the carriage had just turned.The sergeant was now in a state of nervous perplexity. Although his eyes were on the road his thoughts were not there, but all turned inward, communing with himself. Which side ought he to take? That of theLiberalesor theParti Pretre? He had been upon both through two or three alternate changes, and still he was but asargento. And as he had been serving Santa Anna for a longer spell than usual, without a single step of promotion, he could not make much of a mistake by giving the Republican party one more trial. It might get him the long-coveted epaulette ofalferez.While still occupied with his ambitious dreams, endeavouring to decide into which scale he should throw the weight of his sword, musket, and bayonet, the citadel gun once more boomed out, answered by the canon of Chapultepec.Still, there was no cracking of rifles, nor continuous rattle of musketry, such as should be heard coincident with that cry which in the Mexican metropolis usually announces a change of government.It seemed strange not only to him, but all others on guard at El Nino. But it might be a parley—the calm before the storm, which they could not help thinking would yet burst forth, in full fusillade—such as they had been accustomed to.Listening on, however, they heard not that; only the bells, bells, bells, jingling all over the city, as though it were on fire, those of the cathedral leading the orchestra of campanule music. And yet another gun from the citadel, with the answering one from the “Summer Palace of the Monctezunas.”They were fast losing patience, beginning to fear there would be nopronunciamentoafter all, and no chance of plundering, when the notes of a cavalry bugle broke upon their ears.“At last!” cried one, speaking the mind of all, and as though the sound were a relief to them. “That’s the beginning of it. So,camarados! we may get ready. The next thing will be the cracking of carbines!”They all ran to the stack of muskets, each clutching at his own. They stood listening as before; but not to hear any cracking of carbines. Instead, the bugle again brayed out its trumpet notes, recognisable as signals of command; which, though only infantry men, they understood. There was the “Quick march!” and “Double quick!” but they had no time to reflect on what it was for, nor need, as just then a troop of Hussars was seen defiling out from a side street, and coming on towards them at a charging gallop.In a few seconds they were up to the gate, which, being still open, they could have passed through, without stop or parley. For all, they made both, the commanding officer suddenly reining up, and shouting back along the line—“Alto!”The “halt” was proclaimed by the trumpeter at his side, which brought the galloping cohort to a stand.“Sargento!” thundered he at their head to the guard-sergeant, who, with his men re-formed, was again at “Present arms!”“Has a carriage passed you, guard—a landau—grey horses, five men in it?”“Only four men, Señor Colonel; but all the rest as you describe it.”“Only four! What can that mean? Was there a coachman in light blue livery—silver facings?”“The same, Señor Colonel.”“That’s it, sure; must be. How long since it passed?”“Not quite twenty minutes, Señor Colonel. It’s just gone round the corner; yonder where you see the dust stirring.”“Adelante!” cried the colonel, without waiting to question further, and as the trumpet gave out the “Forward—gallop!” the Hussar troop went sweeping through the gate, leaving the guard-sergeant and his men in a state of great mystification and no little chagrin; he, their chief spokesman, saying with a sorrowful air—“Wellhombres, it don’t look like agrito, after all!”
The soldiers of the guard had grounded arms, and were sauntering back to their benches, when something came into the sergeant’s mind which caused him misgiving.
Was it possible he had been paying honours to those undeserving of them?
He was sure of it being the carriage of Don Ignacio Valverde; his horses and livery too. But nothing more. None of the party was known to him as belonging to Don Ignacio’s family or servants. For José was but groom or second coachman, who occasionally drove out his young mistress, but never to the Palace, or other place where the sergeant had been on duty.
Equally a stranger to him was the big fellow on the box, who had hold of the reins, as also one of the gentlemen inside. It occurred to him, however, that the face of the other was familiar—awakening the memories of more than ordinary interest.
“Mil diablos!” he muttered to himself as he stood gazing after the retreating equipage. “If that wasn’t my old captain, Don Ruperto Rivas, there isn’t another man in Mexico more like him. I heard say he had turnedsalteador, and they’d taken him only the other day.Carria! what’s that?”
The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from thegarita, still going on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase its speed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was this from any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip, as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box several times raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again. Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for? And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfied with the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to prevent it, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of the party were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when they passed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might be expected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegant light equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of a Cabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?
The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! a gun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military college of Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringing of bells. First those of the Cathedral, then of the Acordada, and the convent of San Francisco, with other convents and churches, till there was a clangour all over the city!
Hark again! A second gun from the citadel, quickly followed by another from Chapultepec, evidently signals and their responses!
“What thedemoniois it? Apronunciamento?” Not only did the sergeant thus interrogate, but all the soldiers under his command, putting the question to one another. It would be nothing much to surprise them, least of all himself. He was somewhat of a veteran, and had seen nigh a score of revolutions, countingententes.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if it is,” he suggested, adding, as a third gun boomed out from the citadel; “it must be agrito!”
“Who’s raising it this time, I wonder?” said one of the soldiers, all now in a flurry of excited expectancy.
Several names of notedmilitarioswere mentioned at a venture; but no one could say for certain, nor even give a guess with any confidence. They could hardly yet realise its being the breaking out of apronunciamento, since there had been no late tampering with them—the usual preliminary to revolutions.
It might not be, after all. But they would be better able to decide should they hear the rattle of small arms, and for this listened they all ears.
More than one of them would have been delighted to hear it. Not that they disliked therégimeof the Dictator, nor the man himself. Like all despots he was the soldiers friend; professed and giving proofs of it, by indulging them in soldierly licence—permission to lord it over the citizen. But much as they liked “El Cojo” (Game leg), as they called him, agritowould be still more agreeable to them—promising unlimited loot.
The sergeant had views of his own, and reflections he kept to himself. He felt good as sure there was something up, and could not help connecting it with the carriage which had just passed. He now no longer doubted having seen his old captain in it. But how came he to be there, and what doing? He had been in the city, that’s certain—was now out of it, and going at a speed that must mean something more than common. He could get to San Augustin by that route. There were troops quartered there; had they declared for the Liberals?
It might be so, and Rivas was on his way to meet and lead them on to the city. At any moment they might appear on thecalzada, at the corner round which the carriage had just turned.
The sergeant was now in a state of nervous perplexity. Although his eyes were on the road his thoughts were not there, but all turned inward, communing with himself. Which side ought he to take? That of theLiberalesor theParti Pretre? He had been upon both through two or three alternate changes, and still he was but asargento. And as he had been serving Santa Anna for a longer spell than usual, without a single step of promotion, he could not make much of a mistake by giving the Republican party one more trial. It might get him the long-coveted epaulette ofalferez.
While still occupied with his ambitious dreams, endeavouring to decide into which scale he should throw the weight of his sword, musket, and bayonet, the citadel gun once more boomed out, answered by the canon of Chapultepec.
Still, there was no cracking of rifles, nor continuous rattle of musketry, such as should be heard coincident with that cry which in the Mexican metropolis usually announces a change of government.
It seemed strange not only to him, but all others on guard at El Nino. But it might be a parley—the calm before the storm, which they could not help thinking would yet burst forth, in full fusillade—such as they had been accustomed to.
Listening on, however, they heard not that; only the bells, bells, bells, jingling all over the city, as though it were on fire, those of the cathedral leading the orchestra of campanule music. And yet another gun from the citadel, with the answering one from the “Summer Palace of the Monctezunas.”
They were fast losing patience, beginning to fear there would be nopronunciamentoafter all, and no chance of plundering, when the notes of a cavalry bugle broke upon their ears.
“At last!” cried one, speaking the mind of all, and as though the sound were a relief to them. “That’s the beginning of it. So,camarados! we may get ready. The next thing will be the cracking of carbines!”
They all ran to the stack of muskets, each clutching at his own. They stood listening as before; but not to hear any cracking of carbines. Instead, the bugle again brayed out its trumpet notes, recognisable as signals of command; which, though only infantry men, they understood. There was the “Quick march!” and “Double quick!” but they had no time to reflect on what it was for, nor need, as just then a troop of Hussars was seen defiling out from a side street, and coming on towards them at a charging gallop.
In a few seconds they were up to the gate, which, being still open, they could have passed through, without stop or parley. For all, they made both, the commanding officer suddenly reining up, and shouting back along the line—
“Alto!”
The “halt” was proclaimed by the trumpeter at his side, which brought the galloping cohort to a stand.
“Sargento!” thundered he at their head to the guard-sergeant, who, with his men re-formed, was again at “Present arms!”
“Has a carriage passed you, guard—a landau—grey horses, five men in it?”
“Only four men, Señor Colonel; but all the rest as you describe it.”
“Only four! What can that mean? Was there a coachman in light blue livery—silver facings?”
“The same, Señor Colonel.”
“That’s it, sure; must be. How long since it passed?”
“Not quite twenty minutes, Señor Colonel. It’s just gone round the corner; yonder where you see the dust stirring.”
“Adelante!” cried the colonel, without waiting to question further, and as the trumpet gave out the “Forward—gallop!” the Hussar troop went sweeping through the gate, leaving the guard-sergeant and his men in a state of great mystification and no little chagrin; he, their chief spokesman, saying with a sorrowful air—
“Wellhombres, it don’t look like agrito, after all!”
Chapter Thirty Four.An ill-used Coachman.“Such forethought?” exclaimed Rivas, as the landau went rattling along the road with the speed of a war-chariot, “wonderful!” he went on. “Ah, for cleverness, commend me to a woman—when her will’s in it. We men are but simpletons to them. My glorious Ysabel! She’s the sort for a soldier’s wife. But don’t let me be claiming all the credit for her. Fair play to the Señorita Valverde; who has, I doubt not, done her share of the contriving—on your account, Señor.”The Señor so spoken to had no doubt of it either, and would have been grieved to think otherwise, but he was too busy at the moment to say much, and only signified his assent in monosyllables. With head down, and arms in see-sawing motion, he was endeavouring to cut their coupling-chain; the tool he handled being a large file; another of the “something” to be found under the cushions—as found it was! No wonder Don Ruperto’s enthusiastic admiration of the providence which had placed it there.Handy with workmen’s tools as with warlike weapons, the young Irishman had laid hold of it as soon as they were safe through thegarita, and was now rasping away with might and main; the other keeping the chain in place.It was not a task to be accomplished without time. The links were thick as a man’s finger, and would need no end of filing before they could be parted. Still, there was little likelihood of their being interrupted until it could be done. There was nobody on the road, and only here and there some labourers at work in the adjoining fields, too busy to take note of them, or what they were at. The sight of a passing carriage would be nothing strange, and the horses going at a gallop would but lead to the supposition of its being a party of “jovenes dorados” driving out into the country, who had taken too much wine before starting.But, even though these poor proletarians knew all, there was nothing to be apprehended for any action on their part. Conspiracies andpronunciamentoswere not in their line; and the storm of revolution might burst over their heads without their caring what way it went, or even inquiring who was its promoter. So the escaping prisoners took little pains to conceal what they were at. Speed was now more to their purpose than strategy, and they were making their best of it, both to get on along the road, and have their legs free for future action.“We might have passed safely through that gate,” said the Mexican, who still continued to do the talking, “even had they known who we were.”“Indeed! how?”“You saw that sergeant who saluted us?”“Of course I did, and the grand salute he gave! He couldn’t have made it more impressive had it been the Commander-in-Chief of your army, or the Dictator himself who was passing.”“And I fancy it was just something of the kind that moved him. Doubtless, the livery of the coachman, which he would know to be that of Don Ignacio Valverde.”“You think he got us through?”“Yes. But it wouldn’t have done so if he’d known what was up. Though something else might—that is, his knowingme.”“Oh! he knows you?”“He does; though I’m not sure he recognised me in passing, as I did him. Odd enough, his being there just then. He was corporal in a company I once commanded, and I believe liked me as his captain. He’s an old schemer, though; has turned his coat times beyond counting; and just as well there’s been no call for trusting him. He’ll catch it for letting us slip past without challenge; and serve him right, wearing the colours he now does. Ha! they’ve waked up at last! I was expecting that.”It was the first gun at the citadel which called forth these exclamations, soon followed by the ding-dong of the city bells.“Carrai!” he continued, “we’re no doubt being pursued now, and by cavalry; some of those we saw in the procession. It begins to look bad. Still, with so much start, and this fine pair offrisones, I’ve not much fear of their overtaking us, till we reach the point I’m making for; unless, indeed—”“Unless what?” asked Kearney, seeing he had interrupted himself, and was looking out apprehensively.“That! There’s your answer,” said the Mexican, pointing to a puff of smoke that had just shot out from the summit of an isolated hill on which were batteries and buildings. “Chapultepec—a gun!” he added, and the bang came instantly after.“We’ll have it hot enough now,” he continued, in a tone telling of alarm. “There’s sure to be cavalry up yonder. If they’re cleverly led, and know which way to take, they may head us off yet, in spite of all we can do. Lay on the whip,” he shouted out to the coachman.And the whip was laid on, till the horses galloped faster than ever, leaving behind a cloud of dust, which extended back for more than a mile.The road they were on was the direct route to San Angel; and through this village Rivas had intended going, as he had no reason to believe there were troops stationed in it. But Chapultepec was nearer to it than the point where they themselves were, and cavalry now starting from the latter could easily reach San Angel before them. But there was a branch road leading to Coyoacan, and as that would give them some advantage, he determined on taking it.And now another gun at the citadel, with the response from Chapultepec, and, soon after, the third booming from both. But meanwhile, something seen at the castle-crowned hill which deepened the anxious expression on the face of the Mexican.“Santos Dios!” he exclaimed; “just as I expected. Look yonder, Señor!”Kearney looked, to see a stream pouring out from the castle gates and running down the steep causeway which zig-zags to the bottom of the hill. A stream of men in uniform, by their square crowned shakos and other insignia, recognisable as Lancers. They had neither weapons nor horses with them; but both, as Rivas knew, would be at theCuarteland stables below. He also knew that theLanzeroswere trained soldiers—a petted arm of the service—and it would not take them long to “boot and saddle.”More than ever was his look troubled now, still not despairing. He had his hopes and plans.“Drop your file, Señor,” he said hurriedly; “no time to finish that now. We must wait for a better opportunity. And we’ll have to leave the carriage behind; but not just yet.”By this they had arrived at the embouchure of the branch road coming out from Cayocaon, into which by his direction the horses were headed, going on without stop or slackening of speed. And so for nearly another mile; then he called out to those on the box to bring up.Rock, anticipating something of the sort, instantly reined in, and the carriage came to a stand. At which the two inside sprang out upon the road, Kearney calling to the Texan—“Drop the reins, Cris! Down; unhitch the horses. Quick!”And quick came he down, jerking the dwarf after, who fell upon all fours; as he recovered his feet, looking as if he had lost his senses. No one heeded him or his looks; the hurry was too great even to stay for unbuckling.“Cut everything off!” cried Kearney, still speaking to Rock. “Leave on only the bridles.”With the knife late put into his hands the Texan went to work, Kearney himself plying the other, while Rivas held the horses and unhooked the bearing reins.Soon pole-pieces and hame-straps were severed; and the frisones led forward left all behind, save the bridles and collars.“Leave the collars on,” said Rivas, seeing there was no time to detach them. “Now we mount two and two; but first to dispose of him.”The “him” was José, still seated on the box, apparently in a state of stupor.“Pull him down, Cris! Tie him to the wheel!” commanded Kearney. “The driving reins will do it.”The Texan knew how to handle tying gear, as all Texans do, and in a trice the unresisting cochero was dragged from his seat and bound, Ixion-like, to one of the carriage wheels.But Rock had not done with him yet. There was a necessity for something more, which looked like wanton cruelty—as they wished it to look. This was the opening of the poor fellow’s mouth, and gagging him with the stock of his own whip!So, rendered voiceless and helpless, he saw the four forzados, two-and-two, get upon his horses and ride off, the only one who vouchsafed to speak a parting word being the dwarf—he calling back in a jocular way—“Adios, Señor cochero! May your journey be as pleasant as your coach is slow. Ha, ha, ha!”
“Such forethought?” exclaimed Rivas, as the landau went rattling along the road with the speed of a war-chariot, “wonderful!” he went on. “Ah, for cleverness, commend me to a woman—when her will’s in it. We men are but simpletons to them. My glorious Ysabel! She’s the sort for a soldier’s wife. But don’t let me be claiming all the credit for her. Fair play to the Señorita Valverde; who has, I doubt not, done her share of the contriving—on your account, Señor.”
The Señor so spoken to had no doubt of it either, and would have been grieved to think otherwise, but he was too busy at the moment to say much, and only signified his assent in monosyllables. With head down, and arms in see-sawing motion, he was endeavouring to cut their coupling-chain; the tool he handled being a large file; another of the “something” to be found under the cushions—as found it was! No wonder Don Ruperto’s enthusiastic admiration of the providence which had placed it there.
Handy with workmen’s tools as with warlike weapons, the young Irishman had laid hold of it as soon as they were safe through thegarita, and was now rasping away with might and main; the other keeping the chain in place.
It was not a task to be accomplished without time. The links were thick as a man’s finger, and would need no end of filing before they could be parted. Still, there was little likelihood of their being interrupted until it could be done. There was nobody on the road, and only here and there some labourers at work in the adjoining fields, too busy to take note of them, or what they were at. The sight of a passing carriage would be nothing strange, and the horses going at a gallop would but lead to the supposition of its being a party of “jovenes dorados” driving out into the country, who had taken too much wine before starting.
But, even though these poor proletarians knew all, there was nothing to be apprehended for any action on their part. Conspiracies andpronunciamentoswere not in their line; and the storm of revolution might burst over their heads without their caring what way it went, or even inquiring who was its promoter. So the escaping prisoners took little pains to conceal what they were at. Speed was now more to their purpose than strategy, and they were making their best of it, both to get on along the road, and have their legs free for future action.
“We might have passed safely through that gate,” said the Mexican, who still continued to do the talking, “even had they known who we were.”
“Indeed! how?”
“You saw that sergeant who saluted us?”
“Of course I did, and the grand salute he gave! He couldn’t have made it more impressive had it been the Commander-in-Chief of your army, or the Dictator himself who was passing.”
“And I fancy it was just something of the kind that moved him. Doubtless, the livery of the coachman, which he would know to be that of Don Ignacio Valverde.”
“You think he got us through?”
“Yes. But it wouldn’t have done so if he’d known what was up. Though something else might—that is, his knowingme.”
“Oh! he knows you?”
“He does; though I’m not sure he recognised me in passing, as I did him. Odd enough, his being there just then. He was corporal in a company I once commanded, and I believe liked me as his captain. He’s an old schemer, though; has turned his coat times beyond counting; and just as well there’s been no call for trusting him. He’ll catch it for letting us slip past without challenge; and serve him right, wearing the colours he now does. Ha! they’ve waked up at last! I was expecting that.”
It was the first gun at the citadel which called forth these exclamations, soon followed by the ding-dong of the city bells.
“Carrai!” he continued, “we’re no doubt being pursued now, and by cavalry; some of those we saw in the procession. It begins to look bad. Still, with so much start, and this fine pair offrisones, I’ve not much fear of their overtaking us, till we reach the point I’m making for; unless, indeed—”
“Unless what?” asked Kearney, seeing he had interrupted himself, and was looking out apprehensively.
“That! There’s your answer,” said the Mexican, pointing to a puff of smoke that had just shot out from the summit of an isolated hill on which were batteries and buildings. “Chapultepec—a gun!” he added, and the bang came instantly after.
“We’ll have it hot enough now,” he continued, in a tone telling of alarm. “There’s sure to be cavalry up yonder. If they’re cleverly led, and know which way to take, they may head us off yet, in spite of all we can do. Lay on the whip,” he shouted out to the coachman.
And the whip was laid on, till the horses galloped faster than ever, leaving behind a cloud of dust, which extended back for more than a mile.
The road they were on was the direct route to San Angel; and through this village Rivas had intended going, as he had no reason to believe there were troops stationed in it. But Chapultepec was nearer to it than the point where they themselves were, and cavalry now starting from the latter could easily reach San Angel before them. But there was a branch road leading to Coyoacan, and as that would give them some advantage, he determined on taking it.
And now another gun at the citadel, with the response from Chapultepec, and, soon after, the third booming from both. But meanwhile, something seen at the castle-crowned hill which deepened the anxious expression on the face of the Mexican.
“Santos Dios!” he exclaimed; “just as I expected. Look yonder, Señor!”
Kearney looked, to see a stream pouring out from the castle gates and running down the steep causeway which zig-zags to the bottom of the hill. A stream of men in uniform, by their square crowned shakos and other insignia, recognisable as Lancers. They had neither weapons nor horses with them; but both, as Rivas knew, would be at theCuarteland stables below. He also knew that theLanzeroswere trained soldiers—a petted arm of the service—and it would not take them long to “boot and saddle.”
More than ever was his look troubled now, still not despairing. He had his hopes and plans.
“Drop your file, Señor,” he said hurriedly; “no time to finish that now. We must wait for a better opportunity. And we’ll have to leave the carriage behind; but not just yet.”
By this they had arrived at the embouchure of the branch road coming out from Cayocaon, into which by his direction the horses were headed, going on without stop or slackening of speed. And so for nearly another mile; then he called out to those on the box to bring up.
Rock, anticipating something of the sort, instantly reined in, and the carriage came to a stand. At which the two inside sprang out upon the road, Kearney calling to the Texan—
“Drop the reins, Cris! Down; unhitch the horses. Quick!”
And quick came he down, jerking the dwarf after, who fell upon all fours; as he recovered his feet, looking as if he had lost his senses. No one heeded him or his looks; the hurry was too great even to stay for unbuckling.
“Cut everything off!” cried Kearney, still speaking to Rock. “Leave on only the bridles.”
With the knife late put into his hands the Texan went to work, Kearney himself plying the other, while Rivas held the horses and unhooked the bearing reins.
Soon pole-pieces and hame-straps were severed; and the frisones led forward left all behind, save the bridles and collars.
“Leave the collars on,” said Rivas, seeing there was no time to detach them. “Now we mount two and two; but first to dispose of him.”
The “him” was José, still seated on the box, apparently in a state of stupor.
“Pull him down, Cris! Tie him to the wheel!” commanded Kearney. “The driving reins will do it.”
The Texan knew how to handle tying gear, as all Texans do, and in a trice the unresisting cochero was dragged from his seat and bound, Ixion-like, to one of the carriage wheels.
But Rock had not done with him yet. There was a necessity for something more, which looked like wanton cruelty—as they wished it to look. This was the opening of the poor fellow’s mouth, and gagging him with the stock of his own whip!
So, rendered voiceless and helpless, he saw the four forzados, two-and-two, get upon his horses and ride off, the only one who vouchsafed to speak a parting word being the dwarf—he calling back in a jocular way—
“Adios, Señor cochero! May your journey be as pleasant as your coach is slow. Ha, ha, ha!”
Chapter Thirty Five.Double Mounted.The labourers hoeing among the young maize plants, and thetlachiquerodrawing the sap from his magueys, saw a sight to astonish them. Two horses of unusual size, both carrying double, and going at full gallop as if running a race—on one of them two men in cloaks, blue and scarlet; the other ridden by a giant, with a mis-shapen monkey-like creature clinging on the croup behind—harness bridles, with collars dancing loose around their necks—chains hanging down and clanking at every bound they made—all this along field paths, in an out-of-the-way neighbourhood where such horses and such men had never been seen before! To the cultivator of “milpas” and the collector of “aguamiel” it was a sight not only to astonish, but inspire them with awe, almost causing the one to drop his hoe, the other his half-filled hog-skin, and take to their heels. But both being of the pure Aztecan race, long subdued and submissive, yet still dreaming of a return to its ancient rule and glories, they might have believed it their old monarchs, Monctezuna and Guatimozin, come back again, or the god Oatluetzale himself.In whatever way the spectacle affected them, they were not permitted long to look upon it. For the galloping pace was kept up without halt or slowing; the strange-looking horses—with the men upon their backs, still stranger to look at—soon entered achapparal, which bordered the maize and maguey fields, and so passed out of sight.“We’re near the end of our ride now,” said Rivas to Kearney, after they had been some time threading their way through the thicket, the horses from necessity going at a walk. “If ’twere not for this ironmongery around our ankles, I could almost say we’re safe. Unfortunately, where we’ve got to go the chains will be a worse impediment than ever. The file! Have we forgotten it?”“No,” answered Kearney, drawing it from under his cloak, and holding it up.“Thoughtful of you,caballero. In the haste, I had; and we should have been helpless without it, or at all events awkwardly fixed. If we only had time to use it now. But we haven’t—not so much as a minute to spare. Besides the lances from Chapultepec, there’s a cavalry troop of some kind—huzzars I take it—coming on from the city. While we were cutting loose from the carriage, I fancied I heard a bugle-call in the direction cityward. Of course, with guns and bells signalling, we may expect pursuit from every point of the compass. Had we kept to the roads, we’d have been met somewhere. As it is, if they give us another ten minutes’ grace, I’ll take you into a place where there’s not much fear of our being followed—by mounted men, anyhow.”Kearney heard this without comprehending. Some hiding-place, he supposed, known to the Mexican. It could only mean that. But where? Looking ahead, he saw the mountains with their sides forest-clad, and there a fugitive might find concealment. But they were miles off; and how were they to be reached by men afoot—to say nothing of the chains—with cavalry in hue and cry all around them? He put the question.“Don’t be impatient,amigo!” said the Mexican in response; “you’ll soon see the place I speak of, and that will be better than any description I could give. It’s a labyrinth which would have delighted Daedalus himself.Mira! You behold it now!”He pointed to afaçadeof rock, grey, rugged, and precipitous, trending right and left through thechapparalfar as they could see. A cliff, in short, though of no great elevation; on its crest, growing yuccas, cactus, and stunted mezquite trees.“ThePedregal!” he added, in a cheerful voice, “and glad am I to see it. I’ve to thank old Vulcan or Pluto for making such a place. It has saved my life once before, and I trust will do the same now, for all of us. But we must be quick about it.Adelante!”The horses were urged into a final spurt of speed, and soon after arrived at the base of the rocky escarpment, which would have barred them further advance in that direction, had the intention been to take them on. But it was not.“We must part from them, now,” said Rivas. “Dismount all!”All four slipped off together, Rock taking hold of both bridles, as if he waited to be told what to do.“We mustn’t leave them here,” said the Mexican. “They might neigh, and so guide our pursuers to the spot. In another hour, or half that, we needn’t care; it’ll be dark then—”He interrupted himself, seeming to reflect, which, the Texan observing, said to Kearney—“He weeshes the anymals sent off, do he?”“Just that, Cris.”“I war thinkin’ o’ thet same, meself. The groun’ for a good spell back hez been hard as flint, an’ we hain’t leftmuch o’ trail, nothin’ as a set o’ bunglin’ yaller-bellies air like ter take up. As for startin’ the horses, that’s easy as fallin’ off a log. Let me do it.”“Do it.”“Take holt o’ one then, Cap. Unbuckle the neck strap and pull off the bridle, when you see me do so wi’ t’other. It is a pity to act cruel to the poor brutes arter the sarvice they’ve did us; but thar ain’t no help for ’t. Riddy, air ye?”“Ready!”The Texan had taken out his knife; and in another instant its blade was through the horse’s ear, the bridle jerked off at the same time. The animal, uttering a terrified snort, reared up, spun round, and broke away in frenzied flight through the thornychapparal. The other, also released, bounded after, both soon passing out of sight.“Bueno—bravo!” cried the Mexican, admiringly, relieved of his dilemma. “Now, señors, we must continue the march afoot, and over ground that’ll need help from our hands, too.Vamonos!”Saying which, he took up the bridles, and tossed them over the crest of the cliff; then ascended himself, helping Kearney. There was no path; but some projections of the rock—ledges, with the stems of cactus plants growing upon their—made the ascent possible. The Texan swarmed up after, with hunchback at his heels; as he got upon the top, turning suddenly round, laying hold of the chain, and with a “Jee up,” hoisting the creature feet foremost!Another second and they were all out of sight; though not a second too soon. For as they turned their backs upon the cliff, they could hear behind, on the farther edge of the thicket through which they had passed, the signal calls of a cavalry bugle.
The labourers hoeing among the young maize plants, and thetlachiquerodrawing the sap from his magueys, saw a sight to astonish them. Two horses of unusual size, both carrying double, and going at full gallop as if running a race—on one of them two men in cloaks, blue and scarlet; the other ridden by a giant, with a mis-shapen monkey-like creature clinging on the croup behind—harness bridles, with collars dancing loose around their necks—chains hanging down and clanking at every bound they made—all this along field paths, in an out-of-the-way neighbourhood where such horses and such men had never been seen before! To the cultivator of “milpas” and the collector of “aguamiel” it was a sight not only to astonish, but inspire them with awe, almost causing the one to drop his hoe, the other his half-filled hog-skin, and take to their heels. But both being of the pure Aztecan race, long subdued and submissive, yet still dreaming of a return to its ancient rule and glories, they might have believed it their old monarchs, Monctezuna and Guatimozin, come back again, or the god Oatluetzale himself.
In whatever way the spectacle affected them, they were not permitted long to look upon it. For the galloping pace was kept up without halt or slowing; the strange-looking horses—with the men upon their backs, still stranger to look at—soon entered achapparal, which bordered the maize and maguey fields, and so passed out of sight.
“We’re near the end of our ride now,” said Rivas to Kearney, after they had been some time threading their way through the thicket, the horses from necessity going at a walk. “If ’twere not for this ironmongery around our ankles, I could almost say we’re safe. Unfortunately, where we’ve got to go the chains will be a worse impediment than ever. The file! Have we forgotten it?”
“No,” answered Kearney, drawing it from under his cloak, and holding it up.
“Thoughtful of you,caballero. In the haste, I had; and we should have been helpless without it, or at all events awkwardly fixed. If we only had time to use it now. But we haven’t—not so much as a minute to spare. Besides the lances from Chapultepec, there’s a cavalry troop of some kind—huzzars I take it—coming on from the city. While we were cutting loose from the carriage, I fancied I heard a bugle-call in the direction cityward. Of course, with guns and bells signalling, we may expect pursuit from every point of the compass. Had we kept to the roads, we’d have been met somewhere. As it is, if they give us another ten minutes’ grace, I’ll take you into a place where there’s not much fear of our being followed—by mounted men, anyhow.”
Kearney heard this without comprehending. Some hiding-place, he supposed, known to the Mexican. It could only mean that. But where? Looking ahead, he saw the mountains with their sides forest-clad, and there a fugitive might find concealment. But they were miles off; and how were they to be reached by men afoot—to say nothing of the chains—with cavalry in hue and cry all around them? He put the question.
“Don’t be impatient,amigo!” said the Mexican in response; “you’ll soon see the place I speak of, and that will be better than any description I could give. It’s a labyrinth which would have delighted Daedalus himself.Mira! You behold it now!”
He pointed to afaçadeof rock, grey, rugged, and precipitous, trending right and left through thechapparalfar as they could see. A cliff, in short, though of no great elevation; on its crest, growing yuccas, cactus, and stunted mezquite trees.
“ThePedregal!” he added, in a cheerful voice, “and glad am I to see it. I’ve to thank old Vulcan or Pluto for making such a place. It has saved my life once before, and I trust will do the same now, for all of us. But we must be quick about it.Adelante!”
The horses were urged into a final spurt of speed, and soon after arrived at the base of the rocky escarpment, which would have barred them further advance in that direction, had the intention been to take them on. But it was not.
“We must part from them, now,” said Rivas. “Dismount all!”
All four slipped off together, Rock taking hold of both bridles, as if he waited to be told what to do.
“We mustn’t leave them here,” said the Mexican. “They might neigh, and so guide our pursuers to the spot. In another hour, or half that, we needn’t care; it’ll be dark then—”
He interrupted himself, seeming to reflect, which, the Texan observing, said to Kearney—
“He weeshes the anymals sent off, do he?”
“Just that, Cris.”
“I war thinkin’ o’ thet same, meself. The groun’ for a good spell back hez been hard as flint, an’ we hain’t leftmuch o’ trail, nothin’ as a set o’ bunglin’ yaller-bellies air like ter take up. As for startin’ the horses, that’s easy as fallin’ off a log. Let me do it.”
“Do it.”
“Take holt o’ one then, Cap. Unbuckle the neck strap and pull off the bridle, when you see me do so wi’ t’other. It is a pity to act cruel to the poor brutes arter the sarvice they’ve did us; but thar ain’t no help for ’t. Riddy, air ye?”
“Ready!”
The Texan had taken out his knife; and in another instant its blade was through the horse’s ear, the bridle jerked off at the same time. The animal, uttering a terrified snort, reared up, spun round, and broke away in frenzied flight through the thornychapparal. The other, also released, bounded after, both soon passing out of sight.
“Bueno—bravo!” cried the Mexican, admiringly, relieved of his dilemma. “Now, señors, we must continue the march afoot, and over ground that’ll need help from our hands, too.Vamonos!”
Saying which, he took up the bridles, and tossed them over the crest of the cliff; then ascended himself, helping Kearney. There was no path; but some projections of the rock—ledges, with the stems of cactus plants growing upon their—made the ascent possible. The Texan swarmed up after, with hunchback at his heels; as he got upon the top, turning suddenly round, laying hold of the chain, and with a “Jee up,” hoisting the creature feet foremost!
Another second and they were all out of sight; though not a second too soon. For as they turned their backs upon the cliff, they could hear behind, on the farther edge of the thicket through which they had passed, the signal calls of a cavalry bugle.
Chapter Thirty Six.The Pedregal.Interesting as is the Mexican Valley in a scenic sense, it is equally so in the geological one; perhaps no part of the earth’s crust of like limited area offering greater attractions to him who would study the lore of the rocks. There he may witness the action of both Plutonic and Volcanic forces, not alone in records of the buried past, but still existing, and too oft making display of their mighty power in the earthquake and the burning mountain.There also may be observed the opposed processes of deposition and denudation in the slitting up of great lakes, and the down wearing of hills by tropical rain storms, with the river torrents resulting from them.Nor is any portion of this elevated plateau more attractive to the geologist than that known as “El Pedregal”; a tract lying in its south-western corner, contiguous to the Cerro de Ajusco, whose summit rises over it to a height of 6,000 feet and 13,000 above the level of the sea.It is a field of lava vomited forth from Ajusco itself in ages long past, which, as it cooled, became rent into fissures and honey-combed with cavities of every conceivable shape. Spread over many square miles of surface, it tenders this part of the valley almost impassable. No wheeled vehicle can be taken across it; and even the Mexican horse and mule—both sure-footed as goats—get through it with difficulty, and only by one or two known paths. To the pedestrian it is a task; and there are places into which he even cannot penetrate without scaling cliffs and traversing chasms deep and dangerous. It bristles with cactus, zuccas, and other forms of crystalline vegetation, characteristic of a barren soil. But there are spots of great fertility—hollows where the volcanic ashes were deposited—forming littleoases, into which the honest Indian finds his way for purposes of cultivation. Others less honest seek refuge in its caves and coverts, fugitives from justice and the gaols—not always criminals, however, for within it the proscribed patriot and defeated soldier oft find an asylum.In the four individuals who had now entered there was all this variety, if he who directed their movements was what the Condesa Almonté described him. In any case, he appeared familiar with the place and its ways, saying to Kearney, as they went on—“No thanks to me for knowing all about the Pedregal. I was born on its edge; when a boy bird-nested and trapped armadilloes all over it. Twisted as this path is, it will take us to a spot where we needn’t fear any soldiers following us—not this night anyhow. To-morrow they may, and welcome.”Their march was continued, but not without great difficulty, and much exertion of their strength. They were forced to clamber over masses of rock, and thread their way through thickets of cactus, whose spines, sharp as needles, lacerated their skins. With the coupling-chains still on, it was all the more difficult to avoid them.Luckily, they had not far to go before arriving at the place where their conductor deemed it safe to make a stop. About this there was nothing particular, more than its being a hollow, where they could stand upright without danger of being seen from any of the eminences around. Descending into it, Rivas said—“Now, Don Florencio, you can finish the little job you were interrupted at, without much fear of having to knock off again.”At which he raised the chain, and held it rested on something firmer than the cushion of a carriage. So placed, the file made better progress, and in a short time the link was cut through, letting them walk freely apart.“Caballero!” exclaimed the Mexican, assuming an attitude as if about to propose a toast; “may our friendship be more difficult to sever than that chain, and hold us longer together—for life, I hope.”Kearney would not have been a son of Erin to refuse reciprocating the pretty compliment, which he did with all due warmth and readiness.But his work was not over. Rock and Zorillo had yet to be uncoupled; the former, perhaps, longing to be delivered more than any of the four. He had conceived a positive disgust for the hunchback; though, as already said, less on account of the creature’s physical than moral deformity, of which last he had ample evidence during the short while they were together. Nor had it needed for him to understand what the latter said. A natural physiognomist, he could read in Zorillo’s eyes the evil disposition of the animal from which he drew his name.As Kearney approached him with the file, the Texan raising his foot, and planting it on a ledge of rock, said—“Cut through thar, Cap—the link as air nixt to my ankle-clasp.”This was different to what had been done with the other, which had been severed centrally. It was not intended to take off the whole of the chains yet. The Mexican said there was no time for so much filing; that must be done when they got farther on.“Yer see, Cap,” added Rock, giving a reason for the request, “’fore it’s all over, who knows I mayn’t need full leg freedom ’ithoot any hamper? So gie the dwarf the hul o’ the chain to carry. He desarve to hev it, or suthin’ else, round his thrapple ’stead o’ his leg. This chile have been contagious to the grist o’ queer company in his perambulations roun’ and about; but niver sech as he. The sight of him air enough to give a nigger the gut ache.”And in his quaint vernacular he thus rambled on all the time Kearney was at work, his rude speech being an appropriate symphony to the rasping of the file.He at the other end of the coupling-chain lay squatted along the ground, saying not a word, but his eyes full of sparkle and mischief, as those of an enraged rattle-snake. Still, there was fear in his face; for though he could not tell what was being said, he fancied it was about himself, and anything but in his favour. He was with the other three, but not of them; his conscience told him that. He was in their way, too; had been all along, and would be hereafter. What if they took into their heads to rid themselves of him in some violent manner? They might cut his throat with one of the knives he had seen them make such dexterous use of! Reflecting in this fashion, no wonder he was apprehensive.Something was going to be done to him different from the rest, he felt sure. After the chain had been got apart the other three drew off to a distance, and stood as if deliberating. It must be about himself.And about him it was—the way to dispose of him.“I hardly know what we’re to do with the little beast,” said Rivas. “Leave him here loose we daren’t; he’d slip back again, good as certain, and too soon for our safety. If we tie him he will cry out, and might be heard. We’re not far enough away.Oiga! They’re beating up the cover we’ve just come out of. Yes; they’re in thechapparalnow!”It was even so, as could be told by the occasional call of a bugle sounding skirmish signals.“Why not tie and gag him, too?” asked Kearney.“Sure we could do that. But it wouldn’t be safe either. They might find their way here at once. But if they didn’t find it at all, and no one came along—”“Ah! I see,” interrupted the Irishman, as the inhumanity of the thing became manifest to him. “He might perish, you mean?”“Just so. No doubt the wretch deserves it. From all I’ve heard of him, he does richly. But we are not his judges, and have no right to be his executioners.”Sentiments not such as might have been expected from the lips of a bandit!“No, certainly not,” rejoined Kearney, hastening to signify his approval of them.“What doyouthink we should do with him, Rock?” he added, addressing himself to the Texan, who quite comprehended the difficulty.“Wal’, Cap; ’t ’ud be marciful to knock him on the head at onc’t, than leave him to gasp it out with a stopper in his mouth; as ye say the Mexikin thinks he mout. But thar ain’t no need for eyther. Why not toat him along? Ef he should bother us I kin heist him on my back, easy enuf. A ugly burden he’d be, tho’ ’tain’t for the weight o’ him.”The Texan’s suggestion was entertained, no other course seeming safe, except at the probable sacrifice of the creature’s life. And that none of them contemplated for a moment. In fine, it was determined to take him on.The colloquy now coming to an end, Rivas and the Irishman caught up the pieces of chain still attached to their ankles, each making the end of his own fast round his wrist, so as not to impede their onward march. This done, they all moved on again, the Mexican, of course, foremost, Kearney at his heels. After him, Cris Rock, chain in hand, half leading, half-dragging the dwarf, as a showman might his monkey.In this way there was no danger of his betraying them. He could shout and still have been heard by those behind. But an expressive gesture of the Texan admonished him that if he made a noise, it would be the last of him.
Interesting as is the Mexican Valley in a scenic sense, it is equally so in the geological one; perhaps no part of the earth’s crust of like limited area offering greater attractions to him who would study the lore of the rocks. There he may witness the action of both Plutonic and Volcanic forces, not alone in records of the buried past, but still existing, and too oft making display of their mighty power in the earthquake and the burning mountain.
There also may be observed the opposed processes of deposition and denudation in the slitting up of great lakes, and the down wearing of hills by tropical rain storms, with the river torrents resulting from them.
Nor is any portion of this elevated plateau more attractive to the geologist than that known as “El Pedregal”; a tract lying in its south-western corner, contiguous to the Cerro de Ajusco, whose summit rises over it to a height of 6,000 feet and 13,000 above the level of the sea.
It is a field of lava vomited forth from Ajusco itself in ages long past, which, as it cooled, became rent into fissures and honey-combed with cavities of every conceivable shape. Spread over many square miles of surface, it tenders this part of the valley almost impassable. No wheeled vehicle can be taken across it; and even the Mexican horse and mule—both sure-footed as goats—get through it with difficulty, and only by one or two known paths. To the pedestrian it is a task; and there are places into which he even cannot penetrate without scaling cliffs and traversing chasms deep and dangerous. It bristles with cactus, zuccas, and other forms of crystalline vegetation, characteristic of a barren soil. But there are spots of great fertility—hollows where the volcanic ashes were deposited—forming littleoases, into which the honest Indian finds his way for purposes of cultivation. Others less honest seek refuge in its caves and coverts, fugitives from justice and the gaols—not always criminals, however, for within it the proscribed patriot and defeated soldier oft find an asylum.
In the four individuals who had now entered there was all this variety, if he who directed their movements was what the Condesa Almonté described him. In any case, he appeared familiar with the place and its ways, saying to Kearney, as they went on—
“No thanks to me for knowing all about the Pedregal. I was born on its edge; when a boy bird-nested and trapped armadilloes all over it. Twisted as this path is, it will take us to a spot where we needn’t fear any soldiers following us—not this night anyhow. To-morrow they may, and welcome.”
Their march was continued, but not without great difficulty, and much exertion of their strength. They were forced to clamber over masses of rock, and thread their way through thickets of cactus, whose spines, sharp as needles, lacerated their skins. With the coupling-chains still on, it was all the more difficult to avoid them.
Luckily, they had not far to go before arriving at the place where their conductor deemed it safe to make a stop. About this there was nothing particular, more than its being a hollow, where they could stand upright without danger of being seen from any of the eminences around. Descending into it, Rivas said—
“Now, Don Florencio, you can finish the little job you were interrupted at, without much fear of having to knock off again.”
At which he raised the chain, and held it rested on something firmer than the cushion of a carriage. So placed, the file made better progress, and in a short time the link was cut through, letting them walk freely apart.
“Caballero!” exclaimed the Mexican, assuming an attitude as if about to propose a toast; “may our friendship be more difficult to sever than that chain, and hold us longer together—for life, I hope.”
Kearney would not have been a son of Erin to refuse reciprocating the pretty compliment, which he did with all due warmth and readiness.
But his work was not over. Rock and Zorillo had yet to be uncoupled; the former, perhaps, longing to be delivered more than any of the four. He had conceived a positive disgust for the hunchback; though, as already said, less on account of the creature’s physical than moral deformity, of which last he had ample evidence during the short while they were together. Nor had it needed for him to understand what the latter said. A natural physiognomist, he could read in Zorillo’s eyes the evil disposition of the animal from which he drew his name.
As Kearney approached him with the file, the Texan raising his foot, and planting it on a ledge of rock, said—
“Cut through thar, Cap—the link as air nixt to my ankle-clasp.”
This was different to what had been done with the other, which had been severed centrally. It was not intended to take off the whole of the chains yet. The Mexican said there was no time for so much filing; that must be done when they got farther on.
“Yer see, Cap,” added Rock, giving a reason for the request, “’fore it’s all over, who knows I mayn’t need full leg freedom ’ithoot any hamper? So gie the dwarf the hul o’ the chain to carry. He desarve to hev it, or suthin’ else, round his thrapple ’stead o’ his leg. This chile have been contagious to the grist o’ queer company in his perambulations roun’ and about; but niver sech as he. The sight of him air enough to give a nigger the gut ache.”
And in his quaint vernacular he thus rambled on all the time Kearney was at work, his rude speech being an appropriate symphony to the rasping of the file.
He at the other end of the coupling-chain lay squatted along the ground, saying not a word, but his eyes full of sparkle and mischief, as those of an enraged rattle-snake. Still, there was fear in his face; for though he could not tell what was being said, he fancied it was about himself, and anything but in his favour. He was with the other three, but not of them; his conscience told him that. He was in their way, too; had been all along, and would be hereafter. What if they took into their heads to rid themselves of him in some violent manner? They might cut his throat with one of the knives he had seen them make such dexterous use of! Reflecting in this fashion, no wonder he was apprehensive.
Something was going to be done to him different from the rest, he felt sure. After the chain had been got apart the other three drew off to a distance, and stood as if deliberating. It must be about himself.
And about him it was—the way to dispose of him.
“I hardly know what we’re to do with the little beast,” said Rivas. “Leave him here loose we daren’t; he’d slip back again, good as certain, and too soon for our safety. If we tie him he will cry out, and might be heard. We’re not far enough away.Oiga! They’re beating up the cover we’ve just come out of. Yes; they’re in thechapparalnow!”
It was even so, as could be told by the occasional call of a bugle sounding skirmish signals.
“Why not tie and gag him, too?” asked Kearney.
“Sure we could do that. But it wouldn’t be safe either. They might find their way here at once. But if they didn’t find it at all, and no one came along—”
“Ah! I see,” interrupted the Irishman, as the inhumanity of the thing became manifest to him. “He might perish, you mean?”
“Just so. No doubt the wretch deserves it. From all I’ve heard of him, he does richly. But we are not his judges, and have no right to be his executioners.”
Sentiments not such as might have been expected from the lips of a bandit!
“No, certainly not,” rejoined Kearney, hastening to signify his approval of them.
“What doyouthink we should do with him, Rock?” he added, addressing himself to the Texan, who quite comprehended the difficulty.
“Wal’, Cap; ’t ’ud be marciful to knock him on the head at onc’t, than leave him to gasp it out with a stopper in his mouth; as ye say the Mexikin thinks he mout. But thar ain’t no need for eyther. Why not toat him along? Ef he should bother us I kin heist him on my back, easy enuf. A ugly burden he’d be, tho’ ’tain’t for the weight o’ him.”
The Texan’s suggestion was entertained, no other course seeming safe, except at the probable sacrifice of the creature’s life. And that none of them contemplated for a moment. In fine, it was determined to take him on.
The colloquy now coming to an end, Rivas and the Irishman caught up the pieces of chain still attached to their ankles, each making the end of his own fast round his wrist, so as not to impede their onward march. This done, they all moved on again, the Mexican, of course, foremost, Kearney at his heels. After him, Cris Rock, chain in hand, half leading, half-dragging the dwarf, as a showman might his monkey.
In this way there was no danger of his betraying them. He could shout and still have been heard by those behind. But an expressive gesture of the Texan admonished him that if he made a noise, it would be the last of him.
Chapter Thirty Seven.A Suspicion of Connivance.“Suspicious, to say the least of it! If a coincidence, certainly the strangest in my experience, or that I’ve ever heard of. A score of other carriages passing, and they to have chosen that one of all!Carrai! it cannot have been chance—improbable—impossible!”So soliloquised the Chief Magistrate of Mexico, after receiving a report of what had occurred in the Callé de Plateros. He had as yet only been furnished with a general account of it; but particularising the prisoners who had escaped, with their mode of making off, as also whose carriage they had seized upon. He had been told, also, that there were two ladies in it, but needed not telling who they were.All this was made known by a messenger who came post-haste to the Palace, soon after the occurrence. He had been sent by Colonel Santander, who could not come himself; too busy getting the Hussars into their saddles for the pursuit—for he it was who led it. And never did man follow fugitives with more eagerness to overtake them, or more bitter chagrin in their flight.Not much, if anything, less was that of Santa Anna himself, as he now sat reflecting over it. He, too, had seen the two Texans with Rivas in the sewers; the latter a well-known enemy in war, and, as he late believed, a dangerous rival in love. He had glanced exultingly at him, with the thought of that danger past. The rebel proscribed, and for years sought for, had at length been found; was in his power, with life forfeit, and the determination it should be taken. That but a short hour ago, and now the doomed man was free again!But surely not? With a squadron of cavalry in pursuit, canon booming, bells ringing, every military post and picket for miles round on the alert, surely four men chained two and two, conspicuous in a grand carriage, could not eventually get off.It might seem so; still the thing was possible, as Santa Anna had reason to know. A man of many adventures, he had himself more than once eluded a pursuing enemy with chances little better.He sat chewing the cud of disappointment, though not patiently, nor keeping all the time to his chair. Every now and then he rose to his feet, made stumping excursions round the room, repeatedly touched the bell, to inquire whether any news had been received of the fugitive party.The aide-de-camp in attendance could not help wondering at all this, having had orders to report instantly whatever word should be brought in. Besides, why should the great Generalissimo be troubling himself about so small a matter as the escape of three or four prisoners, seeming excited as if he had lost a battle.The cause of this excitement the Dictator alone knew, keeping it to himself. He was still in the dark as to certain details of what had transpired, and had sent for the governor of the Acordada, who should be able to supply them.Meantime he went about muttering threats against this one and that one, giving way to bitter reflections; one bitterest of all, that there had been a suspicion of connivance at the escape of the prisoners. But to this there was a sweet side as well; so some words uttered by him would indicate.“Ah, Condesa! You may be clever—you are. But if I find you’ve had a hand in this, and it can be proved to the world, never was a woman in a man’s power more than you’ll be in mine. Title, riches, family influence, all will be powerless to shield you. In the cell of a prison where I may yet have the pleasure of paying you a visit, you won’t be either so proud or so scornful as you’ve shown yourself in a palace this same day.Veremos—we shall see.”“Don Pedro Arias.”It was an aide-de-camp announcing the Governor of the Acordada.“Conduct him in.”Without delay the prison official was ushered into the presence, looking very sad and cowed-like. Nor did the reception accorded him have a restoring influence; instead, the reverse.“What’s all this I hear?” thundered out the disposer of punishments and of places; “you’ve been letting your prisoners bolt from you in whole batches. I suppose by this time the Acordada will be empty.”“Excellentissimo! I am very sorry to say that four of them—”“Yes; and of the four, two of them you had orders to guard most strictly—rigorously.”“I admit it, Sire, but—”“Sirrah! you needn’t waste words excusing yourself. Your conduct shall be inquired into by-and-by. What I want now is to know the circumstances—the exact particulars of this strange affair. So answer the questions I put to you without concealment or prevarication.”The gaol-governor, making humble obeisance, silently awaited the examination, as a witness in the box who fears he may himself soon stand in the dock.“To begin: why did you send those four prisoners out with the chain-gang?”“By order of Colonel Santander, Sire. He said it was your Excellency’s wish.”“Humph! Well, that’s comprehensible. And so far you’re excusable. But how came it you didn’t see to their being better guarded?”“Sire, I placed them in charge of the chief turnkey—a man named Dominguez—whom I had found most trustworthy on other occasions. To-day being exceptional, on account of the ceremonies, he was pressed to take drink, and, I’m sorry to say, got well-nigh drunk. That will explain his neglect of duty.”“It seems there were two ladies in the carriage. You know who they were, I suppose?”“By inquiry I have ascertained, your Excellency. One was the Countess Almonté the other Don Luisa Valverde, as your Excellency will know, the daughter of him to whom the equipage belonged.”“Yes, yes. I know all that. I have been told the carriage made stop directly opposite to where these men were at work. Was that so?”“It was, Sire.”“And have you heard how the stoppage came about?”“Yes,Excellentissimo. The horses shied at something, and brought the wheels into a bank of mud. Then thecochero, who appears to be a stupid fellow, pulled them up, when he ought to have forced them on. While they were at rest the fourforzadosmade a rush, two right into the carriage, the other two up to the box; one of these last, the bigTejano, getting hold of the reins and whip, and driving off at a gallop. They had only one sentry to pass in the direction of San Francisco. He, like Dominguez, was too far gone in drink, so there was nothing to stop them—except the guards at the garitas. And, I am sorry to say, the sergeant at El Nino Perdita let them pass through without so much as challenging. His account is that, seeing the carriage belonged to one of your Excellency’s Ministers, he never thought of stopping it, and should not. Why should he, Sire?”This touch of obsequious flattery seemed to mollify the Dictator’s wrath, or it had by this otherwise expended itself, as evinced by his rejoinder in a more tranquil tone. Indeed, his manner became almost confidential.“Don Pedro,” he said, “I’m satisfied with the explanation you give, so far as regards your own conduct in the affair. But now, tell me, do you think the ladies who were in the carriage had anything to do with the drawing up of the horses? Or was it all an accident?”“Will your Excellency allow me a moment to reflect? I had thought something of that before; but—”“Think of it again. Take time, and give me your opinion. Let it be a truthful one, Don Pedro; there’s much depending on it.”Thus appealed to, the gaol-governor stood for a time silent, evidently cudgelling his brains. He made mental review of all that had been told him about the behaviour of the young ladies, both before they were turned out of the carriage and after. He was himself aware of certain relations, friendly at least, supposed to exist between one of them and one of the escaped prisoners, and had thought it strange, too, that particular equipage being chosen. Still, from all he could gather, after ample inquiry, he was forced to the conclusion that the thing was unpremeditated—at least on the part of the ladies.This was still his belief, after reflecting as he had been enjoined to do. In support of it he stated the facts as represented to him, how the Señoritas had been forced from their carriage, almost pitched into the street, their costly dresses dirtied and damaged, themselves showing wildest affright. Still, this was strange, too, on the part of the Condesa; and, in fine, Don Pedro, after further cross-questioning, was unable to say whether there had been connivance or not.After giving such an unsatisfactory account of the matter he was dismissed, rather brusquely; and returned to the Acordada, with an ugly apprehension that instead of continuing governor of this grand gaol, with a handsome salary and snug quarters, he might ere long be himself the occupant of one of its cells, set apart for common prisoners.
“Suspicious, to say the least of it! If a coincidence, certainly the strangest in my experience, or that I’ve ever heard of. A score of other carriages passing, and they to have chosen that one of all!Carrai! it cannot have been chance—improbable—impossible!”
So soliloquised the Chief Magistrate of Mexico, after receiving a report of what had occurred in the Callé de Plateros. He had as yet only been furnished with a general account of it; but particularising the prisoners who had escaped, with their mode of making off, as also whose carriage they had seized upon. He had been told, also, that there were two ladies in it, but needed not telling who they were.
All this was made known by a messenger who came post-haste to the Palace, soon after the occurrence. He had been sent by Colonel Santander, who could not come himself; too busy getting the Hussars into their saddles for the pursuit—for he it was who led it. And never did man follow fugitives with more eagerness to overtake them, or more bitter chagrin in their flight.
Not much, if anything, less was that of Santa Anna himself, as he now sat reflecting over it. He, too, had seen the two Texans with Rivas in the sewers; the latter a well-known enemy in war, and, as he late believed, a dangerous rival in love. He had glanced exultingly at him, with the thought of that danger past. The rebel proscribed, and for years sought for, had at length been found; was in his power, with life forfeit, and the determination it should be taken. That but a short hour ago, and now the doomed man was free again!
But surely not? With a squadron of cavalry in pursuit, canon booming, bells ringing, every military post and picket for miles round on the alert, surely four men chained two and two, conspicuous in a grand carriage, could not eventually get off.
It might seem so; still the thing was possible, as Santa Anna had reason to know. A man of many adventures, he had himself more than once eluded a pursuing enemy with chances little better.
He sat chewing the cud of disappointment, though not patiently, nor keeping all the time to his chair. Every now and then he rose to his feet, made stumping excursions round the room, repeatedly touched the bell, to inquire whether any news had been received of the fugitive party.
The aide-de-camp in attendance could not help wondering at all this, having had orders to report instantly whatever word should be brought in. Besides, why should the great Generalissimo be troubling himself about so small a matter as the escape of three or four prisoners, seeming excited as if he had lost a battle.
The cause of this excitement the Dictator alone knew, keeping it to himself. He was still in the dark as to certain details of what had transpired, and had sent for the governor of the Acordada, who should be able to supply them.
Meantime he went about muttering threats against this one and that one, giving way to bitter reflections; one bitterest of all, that there had been a suspicion of connivance at the escape of the prisoners. But to this there was a sweet side as well; so some words uttered by him would indicate.
“Ah, Condesa! You may be clever—you are. But if I find you’ve had a hand in this, and it can be proved to the world, never was a woman in a man’s power more than you’ll be in mine. Title, riches, family influence, all will be powerless to shield you. In the cell of a prison where I may yet have the pleasure of paying you a visit, you won’t be either so proud or so scornful as you’ve shown yourself in a palace this same day.Veremos—we shall see.”
“Don Pedro Arias.”
It was an aide-de-camp announcing the Governor of the Acordada.
“Conduct him in.”
Without delay the prison official was ushered into the presence, looking very sad and cowed-like. Nor did the reception accorded him have a restoring influence; instead, the reverse.
“What’s all this I hear?” thundered out the disposer of punishments and of places; “you’ve been letting your prisoners bolt from you in whole batches. I suppose by this time the Acordada will be empty.”
“Excellentissimo! I am very sorry to say that four of them—”
“Yes; and of the four, two of them you had orders to guard most strictly—rigorously.”
“I admit it, Sire, but—”
“Sirrah! you needn’t waste words excusing yourself. Your conduct shall be inquired into by-and-by. What I want now is to know the circumstances—the exact particulars of this strange affair. So answer the questions I put to you without concealment or prevarication.”
The gaol-governor, making humble obeisance, silently awaited the examination, as a witness in the box who fears he may himself soon stand in the dock.
“To begin: why did you send those four prisoners out with the chain-gang?”
“By order of Colonel Santander, Sire. He said it was your Excellency’s wish.”
“Humph! Well, that’s comprehensible. And so far you’re excusable. But how came it you didn’t see to their being better guarded?”
“Sire, I placed them in charge of the chief turnkey—a man named Dominguez—whom I had found most trustworthy on other occasions. To-day being exceptional, on account of the ceremonies, he was pressed to take drink, and, I’m sorry to say, got well-nigh drunk. That will explain his neglect of duty.”
“It seems there were two ladies in the carriage. You know who they were, I suppose?”
“By inquiry I have ascertained, your Excellency. One was the Countess Almonté the other Don Luisa Valverde, as your Excellency will know, the daughter of him to whom the equipage belonged.”
“Yes, yes. I know all that. I have been told the carriage made stop directly opposite to where these men were at work. Was that so?”
“It was, Sire.”
“And have you heard how the stoppage came about?”
“Yes,Excellentissimo. The horses shied at something, and brought the wheels into a bank of mud. Then thecochero, who appears to be a stupid fellow, pulled them up, when he ought to have forced them on. While they were at rest the fourforzadosmade a rush, two right into the carriage, the other two up to the box; one of these last, the bigTejano, getting hold of the reins and whip, and driving off at a gallop. They had only one sentry to pass in the direction of San Francisco. He, like Dominguez, was too far gone in drink, so there was nothing to stop them—except the guards at the garitas. And, I am sorry to say, the sergeant at El Nino Perdita let them pass through without so much as challenging. His account is that, seeing the carriage belonged to one of your Excellency’s Ministers, he never thought of stopping it, and should not. Why should he, Sire?”
This touch of obsequious flattery seemed to mollify the Dictator’s wrath, or it had by this otherwise expended itself, as evinced by his rejoinder in a more tranquil tone. Indeed, his manner became almost confidential.
“Don Pedro,” he said, “I’m satisfied with the explanation you give, so far as regards your own conduct in the affair. But now, tell me, do you think the ladies who were in the carriage had anything to do with the drawing up of the horses? Or was it all an accident?”
“Will your Excellency allow me a moment to reflect? I had thought something of that before; but—”
“Think of it again. Take time, and give me your opinion. Let it be a truthful one, Don Pedro; there’s much depending on it.”
Thus appealed to, the gaol-governor stood for a time silent, evidently cudgelling his brains. He made mental review of all that had been told him about the behaviour of the young ladies, both before they were turned out of the carriage and after. He was himself aware of certain relations, friendly at least, supposed to exist between one of them and one of the escaped prisoners, and had thought it strange, too, that particular equipage being chosen. Still, from all he could gather, after ample inquiry, he was forced to the conclusion that the thing was unpremeditated—at least on the part of the ladies.
This was still his belief, after reflecting as he had been enjoined to do. In support of it he stated the facts as represented to him, how the Señoritas had been forced from their carriage, almost pitched into the street, their costly dresses dirtied and damaged, themselves showing wildest affright. Still, this was strange, too, on the part of the Condesa; and, in fine, Don Pedro, after further cross-questioning, was unable to say whether there had been connivance or not.
After giving such an unsatisfactory account of the matter he was dismissed, rather brusquely; and returned to the Acordada, with an ugly apprehension that instead of continuing governor of this grand gaol, with a handsome salary and snug quarters, he might ere long be himself the occupant of one of its cells, set apart for common prisoners.
Chapter Thirty Eight.The Report of the Pursuer.With unappeased impatience the Dictator awaited the return of the pursuing party, or some news of it. The last he in time received at first hand from the lips of its leader, who, after nightfall, had hastened back to the city and reported himself at the Palace.“You have taken them?” interrogated Santa Anna, as the Hussar officer, no longer in a glitter of gold lace, but dim with sweat and dust, was ushered into his presence.He put the question doubtingly; indeed, from the expression of Santander’s face, almost sure of receiving a negative answer. Negative it was—“Not yet, Sire; I regret to say they are still at large.”The rejoinder was preceded by a string of exclamatory phrases, ill becoming the Chief of the State. But Santa Anna, being a soldier, claimed a soldier’s privilege of swearing, and among his familiars was accustomed to it as any common trooper. After venting a strong ebullition of oaths, he calmed down a little, saying—“Give me a full account of what you’ve seen and done.”This was rendered in detail, from the time of the pursuit being entered upon till it had ended abortively, by the coming on of night.Chancing to be in the Maza, the Colonel said, when word reached him of what had occurred in the Callé de Plateros, he made all haste to pursue with a squadron of Hussars. Why he took so many, was that he might be able to send a force along every road, in case it should be necessary.He found theescapadoshad gone out by El Nino Perdido, the sergeant on guard there allowing them to go past.“See that he be put under arrest!”“He’s under arrest now, your Excellency. I had that done as I was returning.”“Proceed with your relation!”Which Santander did, telling how he had followed the fugitive party along the San Angel Road, and there met a troop of Lancers from Chapultepec. Some field-labourers had seen a carriage turn off towards Coyoacan; and taking that route he soon after came up with it. It was stopped on the roadside: empty, horses gone, the harness strewed over the ground hacked and cut; thecocherostrapped to one of the wheels, and gagged with the handle of his whip!When the man was released he could tell nothing more than that the four had mounted his horses, a pair upon each, and galloped off across the country, on a sort of bridle path, as if making for the San Antonio Road.Turning in that direction, Santander soon discovered that they had entered into a tract ofchapparal; and while this was being searched for them, the unharnessed horses were observed rushing to and fro in frenzied gallop, riderless of course. When caught, it was seen why they were now excited, one of them having its ear slit, the blood still dropping from the wound.Thechapparalwas quartered in every direction; but he soon came to the conclusion it was no use searching for them there.“Carramba!” interrupted his listener; “of course not I know the place well. And if you, Señor Colonel, were as well acquainted with thatchapparal, and what lies alongside it, as one of those you were after, you’d have dropped the search sooner. You needn’t tell me more; I can guess the finish; they got off into the Pedregal.”“So it would seem, your Excellency.”“Seem! So it is,por cierto. And looking for them there would be so much lost time. Around your native city, New Orleans, there are swamps where the runaway slave manages to hide himself. He’d have a better chance of concealment here, among rocks, in that same quarter you’ve just come from. It’s a very labyrinth. But what did you afterwards? You may as well complete your narrative.”“There is not much more to tell, Sire; for little more could we do. The darkness came on, as we discovered they had taken to the rocks.”“You did discover that?”“Yes, your Excellency. We found the place where they had gone up over a sort of cliff. There were scratches made by their feet, with a branch broken off one of the cactus plants; some of the sewer mud, too, was on the rock. But there was no path, and I saw it would be useless carrying the pursuit any further till we should have the light of morning. I’ve taken every precaution, however, to prevent their getting out of the Pedregal.”“What precautions?”“By completely enfilading it, Sire. I sent the Lancers round by San Geromino and Contreras; the Hussars to go in the opposite direction by San Augustin. They have orders to drop a picket at every path that leads from it, till they meet on the other side.”“Well, Señor Colonel, your strategy is good. I don’t see that you could have done better under the circumstances. But it’s doubtful whether we shall be able to trap our foxes in the Pedregal. One of them knows its paths too well to let night or darkness hinder his travelling along them. He’ll be through it before your pickets can get to their stations. Yes; and off to a hiding-place he has elsewhere—a safer one—somewhere in the Sierras. Confound those Sierras with their caverns and forests. They’re full of my enemies, rebels, and robbers. But I’ll have them rooted out, hanged, shot, till I clear the country of disaffection.Carajo! I shall be master of Mexico, not only in name, but deeds. Emperor in reality!”Excited by the thought of unrestrained rule and dreams of vengeance—sweet to the despot as blood to the tiger—he sprang out of his chair, and paced to and fro, gesticulating in a violent manner.“Yes, Señor Colonel!” he continued in tone satisfied as triumphant. “Other matters have hindered me from looking after these skulking proscripts. But our victory over the Tejanos has given me the power now, and I intend using it. These men must be recaptured at all cost—if it take my whole army to do it. To you, Don Carlos Santander, I entrust the task—its whole management. You have my authority to requisition troops, and spend whatever money may be needed to ensure success. And,” he added, stepping close to his subordinate, and speaking in a confidential way, “if you can bring me back Ruperto Rivas,or his head so that I can recognise it, I shall thank you not asColonel, but asGeneralSantander.”The expression upon his face as he said this was truly Satanic. Equally so that on his to whom the horrid hint was given. Alike cruel in their instincts, with aims closely corresponding, it would be strange if the fugitive prisoners were not retaken.
With unappeased impatience the Dictator awaited the return of the pursuing party, or some news of it. The last he in time received at first hand from the lips of its leader, who, after nightfall, had hastened back to the city and reported himself at the Palace.
“You have taken them?” interrogated Santa Anna, as the Hussar officer, no longer in a glitter of gold lace, but dim with sweat and dust, was ushered into his presence.
He put the question doubtingly; indeed, from the expression of Santander’s face, almost sure of receiving a negative answer. Negative it was—
“Not yet, Sire; I regret to say they are still at large.”
The rejoinder was preceded by a string of exclamatory phrases, ill becoming the Chief of the State. But Santa Anna, being a soldier, claimed a soldier’s privilege of swearing, and among his familiars was accustomed to it as any common trooper. After venting a strong ebullition of oaths, he calmed down a little, saying—
“Give me a full account of what you’ve seen and done.”
This was rendered in detail, from the time of the pursuit being entered upon till it had ended abortively, by the coming on of night.
Chancing to be in the Maza, the Colonel said, when word reached him of what had occurred in the Callé de Plateros, he made all haste to pursue with a squadron of Hussars. Why he took so many, was that he might be able to send a force along every road, in case it should be necessary.
He found theescapadoshad gone out by El Nino Perdido, the sergeant on guard there allowing them to go past.
“See that he be put under arrest!”
“He’s under arrest now, your Excellency. I had that done as I was returning.”
“Proceed with your relation!”
Which Santander did, telling how he had followed the fugitive party along the San Angel Road, and there met a troop of Lancers from Chapultepec. Some field-labourers had seen a carriage turn off towards Coyoacan; and taking that route he soon after came up with it. It was stopped on the roadside: empty, horses gone, the harness strewed over the ground hacked and cut; thecocherostrapped to one of the wheels, and gagged with the handle of his whip!
When the man was released he could tell nothing more than that the four had mounted his horses, a pair upon each, and galloped off across the country, on a sort of bridle path, as if making for the San Antonio Road.
Turning in that direction, Santander soon discovered that they had entered into a tract ofchapparal; and while this was being searched for them, the unharnessed horses were observed rushing to and fro in frenzied gallop, riderless of course. When caught, it was seen why they were now excited, one of them having its ear slit, the blood still dropping from the wound.
Thechapparalwas quartered in every direction; but he soon came to the conclusion it was no use searching for them there.
“Carramba!” interrupted his listener; “of course not I know the place well. And if you, Señor Colonel, were as well acquainted with thatchapparal, and what lies alongside it, as one of those you were after, you’d have dropped the search sooner. You needn’t tell me more; I can guess the finish; they got off into the Pedregal.”
“So it would seem, your Excellency.”
“Seem! So it is,por cierto. And looking for them there would be so much lost time. Around your native city, New Orleans, there are swamps where the runaway slave manages to hide himself. He’d have a better chance of concealment here, among rocks, in that same quarter you’ve just come from. It’s a very labyrinth. But what did you afterwards? You may as well complete your narrative.”
“There is not much more to tell, Sire; for little more could we do. The darkness came on, as we discovered they had taken to the rocks.”
“You did discover that?”
“Yes, your Excellency. We found the place where they had gone up over a sort of cliff. There were scratches made by their feet, with a branch broken off one of the cactus plants; some of the sewer mud, too, was on the rock. But there was no path, and I saw it would be useless carrying the pursuit any further till we should have the light of morning. I’ve taken every precaution, however, to prevent their getting out of the Pedregal.”
“What precautions?”
“By completely enfilading it, Sire. I sent the Lancers round by San Geromino and Contreras; the Hussars to go in the opposite direction by San Augustin. They have orders to drop a picket at every path that leads from it, till they meet on the other side.”
“Well, Señor Colonel, your strategy is good. I don’t see that you could have done better under the circumstances. But it’s doubtful whether we shall be able to trap our foxes in the Pedregal. One of them knows its paths too well to let night or darkness hinder his travelling along them. He’ll be through it before your pickets can get to their stations. Yes; and off to a hiding-place he has elsewhere—a safer one—somewhere in the Sierras. Confound those Sierras with their caverns and forests. They’re full of my enemies, rebels, and robbers. But I’ll have them rooted out, hanged, shot, till I clear the country of disaffection.Carajo! I shall be master of Mexico, not only in name, but deeds. Emperor in reality!”
Excited by the thought of unrestrained rule and dreams of vengeance—sweet to the despot as blood to the tiger—he sprang out of his chair, and paced to and fro, gesticulating in a violent manner.
“Yes, Señor Colonel!” he continued in tone satisfied as triumphant. “Other matters have hindered me from looking after these skulking proscripts. But our victory over the Tejanos has given me the power now, and I intend using it. These men must be recaptured at all cost—if it take my whole army to do it. To you, Don Carlos Santander, I entrust the task—its whole management. You have my authority to requisition troops, and spend whatever money may be needed to ensure success. And,” he added, stepping close to his subordinate, and speaking in a confidential way, “if you can bring me back Ruperto Rivas,or his head so that I can recognise it, I shall thank you not asColonel, but asGeneralSantander.”
The expression upon his face as he said this was truly Satanic. Equally so that on his to whom the horrid hint was given. Alike cruel in their instincts, with aims closely corresponding, it would be strange if the fugitive prisoners were not retaken.
Chapter Thirty Nine.Up the Mountain.“We’re going to have a night black as charcoal,” said Rivas, running his eye along the outline of the Cordilleras, and taking survey of the sky beyond.“Will that be against us?” queried the young Irishman.“In one way, yes; in another, for us. Our pursuers will be sure to ride all round the Pedregal, and leave a picket wherever they see the resemblance of path or trail leading out. If it were to come on moonlight—as luckily it won’t—we’d had but a poor chance to get past them without being seen. And that would signify a fight against awkward odds—numbers, arms, everything. We must steal past somehow, and so the darkness will be in our favour.”As may be deduced from this snatch of dialogue, they were still in the Pedregal. But the purple twilight was now around them, soon to deepen into the obscurity of night; sooner from their having got nearly across the lava field, and under the shadow of Ajusco, which, like a black wall, towered up against the horizon. They had stooped for a moment, Rivas himself cautiously creeping up to an elevated spot, and reconnoitring the ground in front.“It will be necessary for us to reach the mountains before morning,” he added after a pause. “Were we but common gaol-birds who had bolted, it wouldn’t much signify, and we’d be safe here for days, or indeed for ever. The authorities of Mexico, such as they are at present, don’t show themselves very zealous in the pursuit of escaped criminals. But neither you nor I, Señor Kearney, come under that category—unluckily for us, just now—and the Pedregal, labyrinth though it be, will get surrounded and explored—every inch of it within the next forty-eight hours. So out of it we must move this night, or never.”Twilight on the table-lands of the western world is a matter of only a few minutes: and, while he was still speaking, the night darkness had drawn around them. It hindered them not from proceeding onwards, however, the Mexican once more leading off, after enforcing upon the others to keep close to him, and make no noise avoidable.Another half-hour of clambering over rocks, with here and there a scrambling through thickets of cactus, and he again came to a stop, all, of course, doing the same. This time to use their ears, rather than eyes; since around all was black as a pot of pitch, the nearest object, rock or bush, being scarcely visible.For a time they stood listening intently. Not long, however, before hearing sounds—the voices of men—and seeing a glimmer of light, which rose in radiation above the crest of a low ridge at some distance ahead.“Un piqûet!” pronounced Rivas, in a half-whisper.“Soto en la puerto—mozo!” (knave in the door—winner) came a voice in a long-drawn accentuation, from the direction of the light.“Good!” mutteringly exclaimed the Mexican, on hearing it. “They’re at their game ofmonté. While so engaged, not much fear they’ll think of aught else. I know the spot they’re in, and a way that will take us round it. Come on,camarados! The trick’s ours!”Sure enough it proved so. A path that showed no sign of having ever been trodden, but still passable, led out past the gambling soldiers, without near approach to them. And they were still absorbed in their game—as could be told by its calls every now and then drawled out, and sounding strange in that solitary place. Ruperto Rivas conducted his trio of companions clear of the Pedregal, and beyond the line of enfiladement.In twenty minutes after they were mounting the steep slope of the Cerro Ajusco, amid tall forest trees, with no fear of pursuit by the soldiers, than if separated from them by a hundred long leagues.After breasting the mountain for some time, they paused to take breath, Rivas saying—“Well,caballeros, we’re on safe ground now, and may rest a bit. It’s been a close shave, though; and we may thank our stars there are none in the sky—nor moon. Look yonder! They’re at it yet. ‘Soto en la puerto—mozo!’ Ha, ha, ha!”He referred to a faint light visible at a long distance below, on the edge of the Pedregal, where they had passed that of a picket fire-camp, which enabled themontéplayers to make out the markings on their cards.“We may laugh who have won,” he added, now seemingly relieved from all apprehension of pursuit.Nevertheless the fugitive party stayed but a short while there; just long enough to recover wind. The point they were making for was still further up the mountain, though none of them could tell where save Rivas himself. He knew the place and paths leading to it, and well; otherwise he could not have followed them, so thick was the darkness. In daylight it would have been difficult enough, yawning chasms to be crossedbarransas—with cliffs to be climbed, in comparison with which the escarpments of the Pedregal were but as garden walls.In a groping way, hand helping hand, all were at length got up and over, as the tolling of distant church bells, down in the valley below, proclaimed the hour of midnight. Just then Rivas, once more making a stop, plucked a leaf from one of the grass plants growing by, and placing it between his lips gave out a peculiar sound, half screech, half whistle—a signal as the others supposed; being assured it was, by the response soon after reaching their ears.The signal was given again, with some variations; responded to in like manner. Then a further advance up the mountain, and still another halt; this time at hearing the hail:“Quien viva!”“El Capitan!” called out Rivas in answer, and received for rejoinder first an exclamation of delighted surprise, then words signifying permission to approach and pass.The approach was not so easy, being up a steep incline, almost a cliff. But on reaching its crest they came in sight of the man who had challenged, standing on a ledge of rock. A strange-looking figure he seemed to Kearney and the Texan, wearing a long loose robe, girded at the waist—the garb of a monk, if the dim light was not deceiving them; yet with the air of a soldier, and sentinel-fashion, carrying a gun!He was at “present arms” when they got up opposite; and wondering, but without saying aught, they passed him—their conductor, after a momentary pause and a muttered word to him, leading on as before.Another ascent, this time short, but still almost precipitous, and this climbing came to an end.
“We’re going to have a night black as charcoal,” said Rivas, running his eye along the outline of the Cordilleras, and taking survey of the sky beyond.
“Will that be against us?” queried the young Irishman.
“In one way, yes; in another, for us. Our pursuers will be sure to ride all round the Pedregal, and leave a picket wherever they see the resemblance of path or trail leading out. If it were to come on moonlight—as luckily it won’t—we’d had but a poor chance to get past them without being seen. And that would signify a fight against awkward odds—numbers, arms, everything. We must steal past somehow, and so the darkness will be in our favour.”
As may be deduced from this snatch of dialogue, they were still in the Pedregal. But the purple twilight was now around them, soon to deepen into the obscurity of night; sooner from their having got nearly across the lava field, and under the shadow of Ajusco, which, like a black wall, towered up against the horizon. They had stooped for a moment, Rivas himself cautiously creeping up to an elevated spot, and reconnoitring the ground in front.
“It will be necessary for us to reach the mountains before morning,” he added after a pause. “Were we but common gaol-birds who had bolted, it wouldn’t much signify, and we’d be safe here for days, or indeed for ever. The authorities of Mexico, such as they are at present, don’t show themselves very zealous in the pursuit of escaped criminals. But neither you nor I, Señor Kearney, come under that category—unluckily for us, just now—and the Pedregal, labyrinth though it be, will get surrounded and explored—every inch of it within the next forty-eight hours. So out of it we must move this night, or never.”
Twilight on the table-lands of the western world is a matter of only a few minutes: and, while he was still speaking, the night darkness had drawn around them. It hindered them not from proceeding onwards, however, the Mexican once more leading off, after enforcing upon the others to keep close to him, and make no noise avoidable.
Another half-hour of clambering over rocks, with here and there a scrambling through thickets of cactus, and he again came to a stop, all, of course, doing the same. This time to use their ears, rather than eyes; since around all was black as a pot of pitch, the nearest object, rock or bush, being scarcely visible.
For a time they stood listening intently. Not long, however, before hearing sounds—the voices of men—and seeing a glimmer of light, which rose in radiation above the crest of a low ridge at some distance ahead.
“Un piqûet!” pronounced Rivas, in a half-whisper.
“Soto en la puerto—mozo!” (knave in the door—winner) came a voice in a long-drawn accentuation, from the direction of the light.
“Good!” mutteringly exclaimed the Mexican, on hearing it. “They’re at their game ofmonté. While so engaged, not much fear they’ll think of aught else. I know the spot they’re in, and a way that will take us round it. Come on,camarados! The trick’s ours!”
Sure enough it proved so. A path that showed no sign of having ever been trodden, but still passable, led out past the gambling soldiers, without near approach to them. And they were still absorbed in their game—as could be told by its calls every now and then drawled out, and sounding strange in that solitary place. Ruperto Rivas conducted his trio of companions clear of the Pedregal, and beyond the line of enfiladement.
In twenty minutes after they were mounting the steep slope of the Cerro Ajusco, amid tall forest trees, with no fear of pursuit by the soldiers, than if separated from them by a hundred long leagues.
After breasting the mountain for some time, they paused to take breath, Rivas saying—
“Well,caballeros, we’re on safe ground now, and may rest a bit. It’s been a close shave, though; and we may thank our stars there are none in the sky—nor moon. Look yonder! They’re at it yet. ‘Soto en la puerto—mozo!’ Ha, ha, ha!”
He referred to a faint light visible at a long distance below, on the edge of the Pedregal, where they had passed that of a picket fire-camp, which enabled themontéplayers to make out the markings on their cards.
“We may laugh who have won,” he added, now seemingly relieved from all apprehension of pursuit.
Nevertheless the fugitive party stayed but a short while there; just long enough to recover wind. The point they were making for was still further up the mountain, though none of them could tell where save Rivas himself. He knew the place and paths leading to it, and well; otherwise he could not have followed them, so thick was the darkness. In daylight it would have been difficult enough, yawning chasms to be crossedbarransas—with cliffs to be climbed, in comparison with which the escarpments of the Pedregal were but as garden walls.
In a groping way, hand helping hand, all were at length got up and over, as the tolling of distant church bells, down in the valley below, proclaimed the hour of midnight. Just then Rivas, once more making a stop, plucked a leaf from one of the grass plants growing by, and placing it between his lips gave out a peculiar sound, half screech, half whistle—a signal as the others supposed; being assured it was, by the response soon after reaching their ears.
The signal was given again, with some variations; responded to in like manner. Then a further advance up the mountain, and still another halt; this time at hearing the hail:
“Quien viva!”
“El Capitan!” called out Rivas in answer, and received for rejoinder first an exclamation of delighted surprise, then words signifying permission to approach and pass.
The approach was not so easy, being up a steep incline, almost a cliff. But on reaching its crest they came in sight of the man who had challenged, standing on a ledge of rock. A strange-looking figure he seemed to Kearney and the Texan, wearing a long loose robe, girded at the waist—the garb of a monk, if the dim light was not deceiving them; yet with the air of a soldier, and sentinel-fashion, carrying a gun!
He was at “present arms” when they got up opposite; and wondering, but without saying aught, they passed him—their conductor, after a momentary pause and a muttered word to him, leading on as before.
Another ascent, this time short, but still almost precipitous, and this climbing came to an end.