A man must have been essentially a pessimist, or thoroughly acquainted with the Mexican character, to apprehend treachery on seeing the warm reception accorded to the Frenchmen by the inhabitants of Guaymas. It was a madness—a delirium impossible to describe. Leperos, rancheros, campesinos, rich hacenderos, all pressed round the French, vying with each other in offering them a hearty welcome. It seemed as if this little band of adventurers, who were only passing through the town, brought to Sonora peace, tranquillity, and liberty; in a word, all those things the Mexicans want, and for which they sigh in vain. The cries of,Viva los Franceses! Viva el conde!rose on all sides with a deafening sound.
So soon as the company landed, by Don Louis' orders, the ranks were speedily formed; and the count, having Colonel Florés on his right hand, Don Antonio on his left, led his men to the barrack prepared for them, clearing his way with difficulty through the dense masses of spectators. In front of the barrack the alcalde mayor, and the juez de letras—that is to say, the two principal authorities of the town—flanked by their ragged alguaciles, were awaiting the arrival of the company; and on perceiving them, Don Louis commanded a halt.
The two magistrates then walked a few paces toward the count, whom they saluted respectfully, and began a long address stuffed with all sorts of pompous Mexican hyperboles, from among which Don Louis managed to discover that the Sonorians rejoiced in the depths of their hearts at the arrival of the valiant French company; that they set on his courage all their hope of being protected against their ferocious neighbours, the Apaches; that the French had not landed on a foreign shore, but amid brethren and sincere friends, who would be delighted to have it in their power to prove their devotion; and a thousand other things too long to repeat here.
When the alcalde mayor had ended his discourse amid the warm applause of the crowd, the juez de letras began one in his turn, equally long, equally diffuse, and equally perfidious as the first, and which met with the same success.
We will remark here that the Mexicans adore long speeches.
At length, when the two magistrates had finished speaking, the count bowed gracefully, and replied to them with a few of those words which come straight from the heart. They produced a perfect frenzy. The crowd yelled with joy, waving their hats and handkerchiefs; while from every window a perfect shower of flowers escaped from the dainty hands of the señoritas, and literally inundated the adventurers, who cordially responded to this delicate attention.
The company then entered the barrack; it was a large house, with an enormous inner court, admirably adapted for the use to which it was put at this moment. Within an hour, the adventurers, with that eminent knack peculiar to Frenchmen, were comfortably installed, and appeared to have occupied their quarters for the last six months.
The count fancied he had got rid of the alcalde and juez de letras: but it was not so; they had still several requests to make of him before they left him at liberty, and would not neglect them.
As in all other centres of population in Mexico, at Guaymas everyone lives pretty much as he pleases, without troubling himself greatly about the authorities. This liberty, or rather license, may be advantageous to one portion of the population, but is evidently extremely prejudicial to the other; in this sense, that the rascals, having entire liberty to commit all the wicked actions Satan constantly breathes in their ear, the honest people are obliged to defend themselves, and not count in any way upon the protection of a problematical police, which, if it happen to exist, naturally makes common cause with the brigands.
The magistrates had judged in their wisdom to profit by the stay of the Frenchmen at Guaymas, in order to disperse the scoundrels of every description, with whom the city abounds, with a salutary terror. Consequently, they begged the count to guard the principal posts of the pueblo with men belonging to his company, and to organise patrols to traverse the streets by night, and watch over the tranquillity of the citizens and public security.
When, after much circumlocution, the magistrates at length ventilated their request, the count answered them with a smile, that he was entirely at the service of the Mexican government, and if they considered his assistance useful, they might dispose of him and his men as they thought proper. The magistrates thanked him heartily, and, incited by the facility with which the count granted their first request, they ventured to bring forward the second, which, in their idea being of much more delicate nature, they feared would be refused. It was as follows:—
Corpus Christiis the most important religious ceremony of Mexico. This festival, to augment the splendour of which the people undergo the heaviest sacrifices, fell this year just a few days after the arrival of the French in Sonora. They wished the count to promise to have his little mountain guns fired during the whole period the procession went about the streets.
Guaymas had many guns in the forts; but unfortunately they were dismounted, and completely honeycombed with rust.
It may be easily understood, that in the mind of the superstitious Sonorians, on so solemn a festival as this, the bells were not sufficient, and that the ceremony would entirely lose its solemn character, unless a few gunshots were fired.
The worthy magistrates little expected that they were causing the count a lively pleasure, by asking of him two things as a favour, which, had he dared, he would have claimed as a right, for the following reasons.
Since the discovery of gold, so many scamps of every description had sought refuge in San Francisco, that the Californian population justly enjoyed a frightful reputation for vice, crime, and debauchery, in all the adjacent countries, and especially in the Pacific ports, on which they sometimes pounced like swarms of predacious birds. The count ardently desired on behalf of his undertaking, to show the Sonorians among whom they were destined to live, that the French emigrants had nothing in common with these sinister bandits, and that the men he had the honour to command were brave men, resolved to behave themselves properly, wherever chance took them, and never to molest the Mexican population.
As for the second question, it was even more serious in the count's eyes. The Mexicans are not only ignorant and superstitious, but even more. Although they do not understand a syllable of the religion they profess, or perhaps on account of that, they are exaggerated fanatics, and sooner pardon a murder than an insult, however slight in its nature, not to the religion itself, but merely to its exaggerated ceremonial. This fanaticism, carefully maintained during the Spanish dominion, was intended to keep foreigners, that is to say the English, whom they feared greatly, from the shores of New Spain. At that time, indeed, the English were almost the only Europeans who ventured to visit the Spanish colonies.
The monks profited by the difference of our religion, to make the most exaggerated portraits of the English to their parishioners, investing them with horns and claws, as the children of Lucifer must necessarily have. The Indians, credulous as babes, accepted, with closed eyes, all the fables the monks thought proper to tell them; and, with them, every foreigner became an Englishman, that is to say a heretic, a gringo.
The declaration of independence, while enabling the Mexicans to see foreigners of all nations, made no change in their convictions; for it is not so easy to destroy a prejudice rooted for centuries. They continued, as in the past, to see in foreigners only Englishmen, and consequently gringos; hence, that smouldering hatred which breaks out every time that occasion offers, and that secret horror they experience at the sight of every European.
Being on the point of burying himself with his company in the heart of Mexico—of passing through fanatic, credulous, and ignorant tribes, with whom it was important to live in peace, and give them no pretext for quarrelling—it was of the highest interest to the count to show by an undeniable proof that the French were not gringos, but, on the contrary, as good catholics as the Sonorians.
Hence he favourably greeted the magistrates' request—a request which probably concealed a trap—and promised them not only that the guns should thunder during the whole period of the procession, but that the company would be happy to accompany the holy sacrament during its progress through the streets of the town. The more so, the count added, because the French were catholics, and would eagerly seize the opportunity to manifest their fervour for their revered religion.
The magistrates, having at length obtained all they desired, took leave of the count with great demonstrations of gratitude and respect. The count breathed again, for thesederunthad been long. Still, all was not over yet, as the count soon perceived.
Don Antonio, and his inseparable friend the colonel, would not so easily loose their hold, and only consented to withdraw when the count promised to be present that same evening with all his officers at a banquet Don Antonio had prepared, tofêtethe arrival of the French company. The count gave his word, and was at length left at liberty for a few hours.
Now that the company had arrived at Guaymas, that is to say, the first halt on the road to the mines, the expedition had really commenced, the first obstacles were cleared. According to the count's idea, all required now was to give his men a few days' rest, and then push resolutely onward.
Profiting by the first impression produced by the Frenchmen, the count, without loss of a moment, had his papers put in order, and easily obtained his passports for the interior. Several days passed thus, the French reigned as masters in Guaymas, petted and caressed by the inhabitants whom their gaiety and carelessness pleased above all, and who, having hitherto seen a few ragged outcast Mexican soldiers, could not leave off admiring the training, martial aspect, and the perfect dexterity with which the foreigners manoeuvred and managed their weapons.
The company performed the police duties of the town with the greatest care; thefts and assassinations ceased as if by enchantment; and the Sonorians slept tranquilly, on the faith of their new friends.
On Corpus Christi day, as had been arranged, the French cannon were fired during a portion of the day, and the adventurers accompanied the procession, bearing bouquets in their muzzles, and behaving with the greatest decency. Their presence at church produced all the effect the count anticipated from it; and the certainty acquired by the inhabitants that the strangers were good catholics, still further increased the friendship they entertained for them.
Matters went on thus for several days, and nothing occurred to trouble the azure of the count's projects. In fact, the most perfect harmony prevailed between him and the magistrates, at least apparently; hence, with the native frankness of his character, the count began to reproach himself secretly for the distrust he had at first felt, or rather Valentine inspired him with; and in his heart he accused his friend of having yielded to unjust prejudices against men who seemed to study not merely to satisfy him, but to anticipate the slightest desires of the members of the expedition.
Indeed, how could the count suspect treachery? He had only come on the entreaty of the Mexican government. It was that government which demanded that his company should be trained, numerous, and well armed. The chief authorities of the country had a greater interest in the success of the enterprise, because they were nearly all shareholders. To suppose that, under such circumstances, these persons intended to cheat him, the count must have at first admitted that they were insane; for no one ever carries on war at his own expense, and the Mexicans are generally known to have a clutching hand for money.
In the meanwhile, time passed rapidly; the count was afraid, lest themoraleof his comrades might suffer by a longer stay in the heart of a Sonorian city. He was burning to set out; but, unfortunately, it was impossible for him to do so, until depôts of provisions had been made along the road, and the government of the state had arranged with him the definitive movements of the company on its march to the mines.
Don Louis complained bitterly both to the colonel and Don Antonio of the continual delays he was obliged to suffer, and the pretexts, more or less plausible, employed to keep him in disgraceful inaction. The governor, who declined to quit Pitic, only made evasive answers to his letters, or declared that he had received no instructions.
This state of things could not, and must not, last longer. As there was a risk of the company dissolving, and all the fruit of the preliminary labours being lost, before the enterprise had been seriously entered on, Don Louis resolved at all risks to emerge from this equivocal position. Consequently, after having formally stated his wishes to Colonel Florés and Don Antonio, he informed them that since General Guerrero did not appear to understand the tenour of his letters, he was resolved to proceed himself to Pitic, and have a categorical explanation with him.
The two men started with joy at this news; for they required the count's absence for the success of the plans they had formed. Instead, therefore, of turning him from his project, they urged him warmly to put it in execution without delay, and start as soon as possible. Don Louis had no need to be stimulated and urged on thus. So soon as he left the two men, he proceeded to the barrack, assembled the company, and told them of his speedy departure, which was joyfully heard by all these energetic and ardent men whom rest fatigued, and on whom idleness began to weigh heavily. The count intrusted the temporary command to one of the officers on whom he thought he could most count, giving him the order that, if he heard nothing from him within four days, the company would start at once to join him, and after again urging the men to keep up the strictest discipline, the count finally quitted the barrack.
At his house he found Valentine awaiting him. The latter approved his conduct, but refused to accompany him, giving as his reason, that he believed he should serve the good cause better by remaining at Guaymas. The truth was, that the hunter did not wish to leave out of sight the men he had undertaken to watch, until he had discovered their machinations.
Louis did not insist. He knew that with a man of Valentine's character there was no chance of discussing, when he had once formed a determination. Followed by Don Cornelio and an escort of ten well-mounted horsemen, the count set out, after once again pressing his friend's hand, and proceeded toward Pitic, where—at least he hoped so—he should at length find the word of the enigma.
"Hum!" Valentine muttered, following him with a thoughtful glance; "either I am greatly mistaken, or, now that he is no longer here, to thwart by his presence the gloomy machinations of the scoundrels who wish to make him their dupe, we shall soon have something new."
After this aside, the hunter walked with his usual measured step toward the barrack, where he arrived in a few moments, and found the adventurers in a state of great excitement, produced by the departure of their leader.
The distance is not great from Guaymas to Pitic, and the count covered it in a few hours.
Pitic, or Hermosillo, is a delightful town, enclosed with walls, and surrounded by kitchen gardens, whose produce is rather important. Unfortunately, the night had completely set in when the count arrived there, and he could only take a vague glance at the scenery, which, seen through the obscurity, had entirely changed its character, and assumed a gloomy appearance, which painfully contracted the adventurer's heart. The count had considerably recovered from his first illusions; the paltry annoyances of which he was the object now made him see the future under a different light, and he already doubted the success of an enterprise against which, from the outset, so many underhand obstacles were raised.
At the moment of mounting his horse, he had received from the general commandant of the province a note giving him peremptory orders to remain at Guaymas, with his company, and not to march forward until more ample information, that is to say, until the general had received positive instructions on the subject, from the central government at Mexico. As may be easily supposed, this order, intimated in so brutal a manner after all that had passed, had obtained the sole result of pressing the count's departure; for he was outraged by this flagrant violation of all the conditions stipulated in his treaty.
The little band entered Pitic without exciting the slightest attention. At this hour the streets were nearly deserted; and the few travellers they meten route,deceived by their Mexican costume, did not even take the trouble to look at them. The count dismounted in the Calle San Agostino, before a house which he had got in readiness for the occasion, without saying a word to anyone. After a gentle rap at the door, it opened, and the party entered. The house belonged to a Frenchman, who had gone on a journey in the interior, for commercial reasons; but during his absence, the servants, in obedience to his instructions, received the count with the utmost attention. The latter, after whispering a few words to Don Cornelio, who went out at once, retired to the cuarto prepared for him.
Don Louis was a man of powerful and energetic temper, a man of action before all. He understood that, after the turn that matters had taken, he must act energetically and without losing a moment, unless he wished to receive an irreparable check. His plan was formed, and he prepared to carry it out without delay.
Don Cornelio returned at the moment when the count, who had changed his costume, was giving a final glance at his appearance.
"Already!" he said, on perceiving the Spaniard.
"I have found the house, it is only a few paces from here."
"All the better, we shall have less distance to go."
"Five minutes at the most."
"Is General Guerrero in Pitic?"
"He is. Still I fancy you would do better by delaying your visit till tomorrow."
"Why so?"
"Because there is atertuliathis evening at the palace."
The count turned.
"What difference does that make?" he asked.
"Oh, as you please, señor; but, perhaps, you do not know what a tertulia is."
"Not exactly; but you will explain it to me?"
"Nothing more easy. A tertulia is a party, a festival—a ball, in a word."
"I understand. And you are sure, Don Cornelio, that there is a tertulia this evening at the governor's palace?"
"Positively sure, your excellency."
"Bravo! That will do our business."
The Spaniard looked at him in amazement.
"Don Cornelio," the count continued, "change your travelling dress. I mean to take you with me."
"The fact is——," he said hesitating.
"What then?"
"I must confess to you, señor conde, that I have no other clothes save those I wear."
"Ah, that is of no consequence," the count replied with a smile, pointing at the same time to a heap of clothes thrown pell-mell on the furniture. "I suppose that you are sufficiently my friend not to feel annoyed at the cool way in which I treat you."
"Oh, not at all," the Spaniard exclaimed, with a movement of joy.
"I must ask you to make haste, though; for I am waiting."
"I only ask for five minutes."
"I give you ten. You will find me in the patio; I am going to give my escort orders to mount."
The count went out, and Don Cornelio eagerly set to work obeying him. We must add, to the glory of the Spaniard, that Don Louis' treatment of him, so far from annoying him, had caused him to feel a deep gratitude.
The Spaniard was not mistaken; there was really a tertulia at the governor's palace. General Guerrero was extremely rich: hence, the ball he gave this evening was sumptuous, and in every way worthy of the exalted post he occupied in the province.
The crowd filled his rooms, which glistened with light and dazzled with gilding. All the higher society of Pitic was assembled at the palace; tables, covered with gold, were surrounded by players, who, with that proud carelessness characteristic of Mexicans, risked enormous sums on a card. In a vast hall, a band, perhaps rather wild to European ears, regulated the movements of the dancers; while a private room was reserved for the ladies. Doña Angela, ravishingly beautiful, was seated on her throne, in the midst of this bevy of pretty women.
But, despite all the general's efforts to please his guests, and excite them to amuse themselves, the festivities languished. The young ladies, generally so impassioned for dancing, refused all invitations; they preferred to remain talking together in the apartment reserved for them. The fact was, they were discussing at this moment a most interesting point, which had the privilege of arousing feminine curiosity to the highest pitch. The news of the French landing at Guaymas supplied the staple of the conversation.
"Good gracious!" a young woman said, with a charming smile, "will the English come here?"
"Doubtlessly," another observed; "but they are not English,Querida."
"Oh, you are mistaken, Carmencita. All foreigners are English, that is to say heretics; my confessor told me so."
"They must be hideous," a third asserted, advancing her head in curiosity.
"Indeed not, I assure you; they are men like others," the second speaker observed, a pretty brunette, with black eyes that sparkled with malice. "I spent Corpus Christi with my uncle at Guaymas, and saw them. Some of them, indeed, are very good-looking."
"That is impossible!" they exclaimed in chorus. "They are heretics!"
"They will massacre us."
"They are said to be very cruel."
"Their chief especially."
Till then Doña Angela had remained silent, absorbed in silent thought; but at this remark she suddenly raised her head.
"Their chief is a caballero," she said in a loud voice. "He is a conde in his own country; and if he has come to Sonora, it is probably only on our behalf."
All the young women were silent; for they were amazed at this strange outbreak on the part of Doña Angela; then they began chattering together. The young lady, vexed at having thrust herself forward so imprudently, bit her lips, blushed slightly, and fell back in her reverie. At this moment Don Sebastian entered the room.
"Ah, here is the general!" three or four young girls exclaimed gaily, as they rose and eagerly surrounded him.
"Yes, here I am, señoritas," he answered with a smile. "What do you want of me?"
"Merely some information."
"About what?"
"We wish to know," Doña Carmencita began; then she corrected herself. "It is not I, general, but these ladies."
"I am persuaded of that," Don Sebastian said, gallantly; "be good enough, then, to be their interpreter. What do they desire to know?"
"Who are the Ingleses?"
"What Ingleses?"
"Those who have landed at Guaymas."
"Ah! Very good."
"You will tell us, will you not, general?" they all exclaimed at once.
"If it is agreeable to you."
"Oh! Greatly so."
"In the first place, they are not English."
"They must be, as they are foreigners."
The general smiled at this simple observation; but mentally recognising the impossibility of destroying an opinion so deeply rooted, he turned the question.
"These men are two hundred and odd in number."
"So many as that?" two or three young ladies exclaimed, with a gesture of terror.
"Yes, indeed, so many as that, señoritas; but reassure yourselves—you have nothing to fear from them. They are kind and obliging, and their chief is a perfect caballero."
"But why do they come here?"
"They came for the purpose of working certain mines."
"I beg your pardon, papa," Doña Angela observed, who had been attentively listening to the conversation. "Did you not say they came?"
"Yes, my child, I said so."
"But they are still at the port, I think?"
"Yes, they are; but it is probable that they will soon depart."
"For the mines?"
"No. To return whence they came."
Doña Angela contracted her eyebrows, a movement in her which denoted grave annoyance and great mental preoccupation, and was silent again.
"All the better. Let them go, the heretics!" one of the ladies exclaimed. "These accursed English only come to our country to plunder us."
"That is true." The majority warmly supported her.
"Besides, I do not care what is said; I assert that they are frightfully ugly."
"Well!" a young lady said, with a delicious pout, "I should have liked to see one—only one—to know what to think about them."
"I am very much afraid, Doña Redempción," the general remarked with a smile, "that it will now be impossible to satisfy your curiosity."
"All the worse; for a heretic must be an extraordinary animal. Are they as ugly as the Indios Bravos?"
"That is a different matter."
"Ah! And are you certain, general, that I shall not be able to see one? That annoys me."
"I regret it, señorita."
"And I, too. But supposing one of them were to come to Hermosillo?"
"That is peremptorily forbidden them. They will be cautious not to disobey the order they have received."
"Ah!" she said with a pout.
At the same moment, a door was thrown open with a crash; and a servant announced in a loud and perfectly distinct voice,—
"His Excellency the Count Louis de Prébois. His Excellency Don Cornelio Mendoza."
If the count purposed to produce an effect, his object was completely attained. His sudden entrance was a regular tableau, and caused a general emotion, whose immense extent it was certainly impossible for him to calculate.
All the ladies had risen, and, grouped round the general, examined with a curious and timid eye the chief of the adventurers.
The count, whose splendid ranchero costume, which he wore with inimitable grace, added to the fascinating charm spread over his whole person, walked a few steps with a smile, bowed around with a gesture full of elegance, and waited. The general had suddenly turned of a livid pallor.
The news of the count's arrival, spreading through the other rooms with incomprehensible rapidity, suddenly stopped the dancing and gambling; all the guests quitted the other rooms, and proceeded toward the one in which the count was said to be.
Still, each second that elapsed added to the embarrassment of the position; the general felt it, and sought in vain a mode of escape. Don Louis understood, or rather guessed, the general's perplexity; hence, advancing two paces, he said with exquisite politeness,—
"I am confounded, general, by the trouble I have involuntarily caused among your guests. It seems that I was not expected at Pitic."
The general succeeded in regaining a little self-possession.
"I allow it, caballero," he replied. "Still the impromptu visit you have deigned to make me must be most agreeable to me, be assured."
"I hope so, general; and yet, to judge by the glances directed upon me from all sides, I may be permitted to doubt it."
"You are mistaken, señor conde," the general continued, attempting to smile. "For the last few days fame has been so occupied with you, that the eagerness of which you are now the object ought not at all to astonish you."
"I should wish, general," the count said, with a bow, "that this eagerness were more friendly. My conduct, since my arrival in Sonora, should have attracted greater sympathy toward me."
"What would you? We are savages, señor conde," the general said with a sarcastic smile; "we have the misfortune not to love what comes from foreign parts; so you must forgive us. But enough on that subject, for the present," he added, changing his tone. "As you have been kind enough to become my guest, allow me to present you officially to these ladies, who are burning to become better acquainted with you."
Don Louis yielded gracefully to the general's wishes. The latter then, affecting the most exquisite courtesy, presented his guest, as he called him, to the most influential persons at the ball. Then he led him to his daughter, who, since the count's entrance, had stood motionless, with her eyes obstinately fixed upon him.
"Señor conde," the general said, "my daughter, Doña Angela. Doña Angela, the Count Don Louis de Prébois Crancé."
Don Louis bowed respectfully before the young lady.
"I have had the honour of knowing the count for a long while," she said with a graceful smile.
"It is true," the general said, suddenly pretending to remember; "we have been acquainted for a long time, caballero."
"It was not my place to remind you under what circumstances we met."
"That is true, count, it was mine; believe me that I have not forgotten it."
"Nor I," the young lady murmured; "for I owe you my life, señor."
"Oh, señorita!"
"Permit me, permit me, señor conde," the general said, with an emphasis assuredly affected; "we Mexican caballeros have a long memory for good as for ill. You risked your life to defend mine, and that is one of the debts we like to pay. I am your debtor, señor Don Louis."
"Are you speaking seriously, general?" the count asked, looking at him fixedly.
"Certainly, caballero; the subject is too serious for me to treat it otherwise. I will even add that my most lively desire would be soon to find the occasion to acquit my debt."
"If that be so, general, I can offer you the occasion, if you will allow me?"
"How so?" the general asked, somewhat taken aback by finding himself taken at his word. "I am too happy to be agreeable to you. What do you want of me?"
"I want nothing, general; I only wish to make a request of you."
"A request! You, Don Louis? Oh, oh, what is it? Pray speak."
"I would beg you to grant me a few moments of private conversation."
"This night?"
"This very instant."
"Come," the general continued, "I hoped to be free from business for a few hours at least, but you order otherwise. Your request shall be satisfied, Don Louis; a caballero has but his word."
"Pray pardon me, general. I am really confounded by pressing you so greatly; but imperious reasons——"
"Not a word more, I implore you, Don Louis, or you will make me suppose that you attach to this interview an importance which it cannot possibly possess."
Don Louis contented himself with bowing in reply. The general then turned to his guests, the majority of whom, their first curiosity satisfied, had returned to the various amusements they had quitted for a moment.
"Señoras and caballeros," he said, "I must ask you to pardon me for leaving you for a few minutes; but as you see, Don Louis has my word, and I must free it."
The guests bowed courteously. Doña Angela had summoned Don Cornelio to her side, and, profiting by the liberty Mexican manners give young girls, she was conversing with him in a low voice.
"Go, papa," she said with a soft smile, intended for the count; "but do not keep Señor Don Louis too long. Now that the ladies know him, they would like some conversation with him."
"Do not be alarmed, ladies; in ten minutes we shall return. Any discussion between myself and the count cannot be long."
"Heaven grant that be true," Louis said in his heart; "but I believe the contrary."
The general passed his arm through the count's, led him through the saloons, and stopped at a door he opened.
"Go in, caballero," he said to him.
The count entered, and the general followed, carefully closing the door behind him.
The room to which the general led the count was a study. Don Sebastian pointed to a chair, and took another himself. There was a moment's silence, during which the two men examined each other carefully. On passing the study threshold, both doffed that gaiety they had imprinted on their faces, to assume a severe and thoughtful look, harmonising better with the grave questions they were probably about to discuss.
"I am waiting, señor conde," the general at length said, "till it please you to explain yourself."
"I hesitate to do so, general," Don Louis answered.
"You hesitate, count!"
"Yes, because, in what I have to say to you, there are some matters so delicate that I almost fear to approach them."
The general was mistaken as to the meaning of the count's words. How could he understand the exquisite delicacy that dictated them?
"You can speak without fear," he said; "no one can hear you. Precautions have been taken, so that nothing said in this room can transpire outside. Banish then, I implore you, all reserve, and explain yourself frankly."
"I will do so, as you demand it; indeed, it is, perhaps, better that it should be so. In this way, I shall know at once what I have to hope or fear."
"You are bound to hope everything from me," the general said in an insinuating voice. "I wish you no harm; on the contrary, I desire to serve you; and to give you an example of frankness, I will begin by declaring to you, that your fate depends on yourself alone, and that the success or ruin of your enterprise is in your own hands."
"If it be really so, general, the discussion between us will not be long. But, allow me in the first place to set forth my grievances, in order to throw full light on the state of the case."
"Do so."
"In the first place, permit me one question. Do you know the conditions of my treaty with the Mexican government?"
"Of course I do, count, as I have in my possession a copy of it."
Don Louis made a sign of surprise.
"That must not astonish you," the general continued; "remember what occurred at Mexico. Do you not owe to an influential person, whose name you are ignorant of, the removal of those insurmountable obstacles which prevented the acceptance of your treaty by the President of the Republic?"
"I allow it."
"That person, I can now tell you, was myself."
"You, general?"
"Myself. Then, do you remember that when all was concluded, I became the first shareholder who gave his signature, and supplied funds?"
"That is perfectly correct; but this only renders more incomprehensible the strange position in which I have been placed."
"How so?"
"Pardon me, general, the frankness with which I express myself."
"Go on, count. We are here to tell each other the truth."
"In reality, since my arrival at Guaymas, your conduct toward me has been inexplicable."
"You are jesting. I consider it most natural."
"Still, it appears to me——"
"Come, what do you find so extraordinary in my conduct?"
"Well, everything."
"Mention details."
"I will do so."
"Let us see."
"Shall I start from the commencement?"
"Certainly."
"Very good. You know, as you have a copy of my agreement, that it is stated in it that I shall only stay at Guaymas just the time necessary for the company to settle the halting places, and prepare provision and fodder."
"Perfectly correct."
"I have been kept at the port nearly a fortnight under excuses, each more frivolous than the other. Comprehending how injurious inaction may prove to my company, I made repeated applications to the captain-general and yourself. All my letters were answered by want of instructions."
"Go on."
"Wearied with this abnormal position, I at length succeed in obtaining my passports to start for the mine. At that moment I receive from you, general, a note giving me orders not to leave Guaymas."
"Very good. Proceed."
Don Louis, confounded by the impassiveness of the speaker, whose face remained calm and voice tranquil, began to feel himself growing angry.
"Now, general," he said, raising his voice, "I have a right to ask you clearly what game we are playing.
"A very simple one, my dear count, I repeat to you; and you can, if you really desire it, hold all the trumps in your hand."
"I confess that I do not at all understand you."
"That is impossible!"
"On my honour! I should feel most sincerely obliged by your explaining to me clearly what is happening; for I assure you that I am in a fog from which I despair ever to escape."
"That depends on yourself alone."
"By Heavens, general, you will allow that you are jesting with me?"
"Not the least in the world."
"What? At the request of your government, I come to Sonora with permission to work the mines. Owing to your influence, as you yourself allow, my treaty is signed. Confiding in Mexican honesty, I organise an expedition—I arrive; and my partners, yourself first of all, turn against me and treat me, not as their friend, their representative, not with even the respect due to a gentleman, but affect to consider me as almost a filibuster."
"O count! You are going too far."
"On my soul, general, such things can only be witnessed in Mexico."
"My dear count, you are mistaken. No one is seeking to injure you, on the contrary."
"Still, up to the present, you, one of the largest shareholders in the company, whose interests are at stake, you in a word, who, owing to the influence you possess, should have helped us in the most effective manner, have only employed that power to impede our movements and injure us in every way."
"O count! What terms you are employing."
"Good Heavens, general, excuse me! But it is time for all these absurd annoyances to cease, and for me to be allowed to proceed to the mines. All this has lasted too long."
The general appeared to reflect for a moment.
"Come, frankly," he said at last; "did you not understand why I acted toward you in that way?"
"I swear it."
"That is strange. Pardon me in your turn, count; but I had a very different opinion of you."
"What do you mean?"
"Then you did not guess why I, general, military governor of Sonora, supported so warmly your petition to the President?"
"But——"
"You did not guess," he went on sharply, "why I demanded that your companions should be well armed, and organised as soldiers?"
"It appears to me——"
"You did not understand why I had you invested with a military power as extensive as if you were chief of an army? Come, count, you are not speaking seriously at this moment; or else you wish to play a cunning game with me."
While pronouncing these words with a certain degree of vehemence, this time real, the general had left his chair, and was walking about the room in agitation. The count listened to him with the greatest attention, while watching him closely. When he was silent, he replied:—
"I will tell you, general, what I did understand."
"Speak."
"I understood, that the Mexican government, too weak to recover for itself the rich placers of the Plancha de la Plata, which by its carelessness, had fallen once more into the hands of the Indians, would gladly see strangers carry out an expedition from which it would reap the greatest profit. I understood, besides, that the government, unable effectively to protect the inhabitants of Sonora against the incursions of the Apaches and Comanches, would be delighted if the same strangers took on themselves at their risk and peril to restrain these ferocious plunderers within their frontiers. I understood lastly, that General Don Guerrero, (whose life and his daughter's I had been so fortunate as to save, and who felt such deep gratitude toward me), had gladly seized on the opportunity to do me a service in his turn, by placing at my disposal that great influence he possesses, to obtain for me that which I had so long solicited in vain. That is all I understood, general."
"Ah! That is all?"
"Yes; but am I mistaken?"
"Perhaps."
"Then, be kind enough to explain yourself categorically, general."
"What use would it be now? It is too late," the general answered, darting at him a glance of strange meaning.
"Why, then, too late?"
Don Sebastian walked quickly up to the count, and stopped in front of him.
"Because now," he said, "we can never understand each other."
"You believe so, general?"
"I am sure of it."
"But, for what reason?"
"You wish me to tell it you?"
"I beg you."
"Well, then, señor conde, the reason is this: you are a man of too much sense and vast intelligence—in a word, you are a man in a thousand——"
"General, I implore you——"
"I do not flatter you, count; I tell you the truth. Unfortunately, though you speak Spanish with rare perfection, you are not sufficiently acquainted withMexicanfor us ever to understand each other."
"Ah!" the count said, without adding another word.
"I am right, I think; this time you caught the meaning of my words?"
"Perhaps, general, I will reply in the remark you employed an instant ago."
"Very good. Now, I think, we have nothing more to say to each other."
"Permit me a few words."
"Speak."
"Whatever may happen, general, on passing the door of the room, I shall not remember one word of our conversation."
"As you please, count; we have said nothing the whole town might not hear."
"That is true; but others might possibly put a different interpretation on them than mine. There are so many ways of understanding words."
"Oh! But ours were remarkably innocent."
"They were. I trust, general, we shall not part as foes."
"Why should we be so, my dear count? I desire, on the contrary, that the agreeable acquaintance we have renewed this evening may be changed ere long—on your side at least, for on mine it has long been so—into a durable friendship."
"You overwhelm me, general."
"Do I not owe you my life?"
"So I may always count on you?"
"As on yourself, my dear friend."
These words were uttered by the two speakers with such delicately sharpened irony, that no one could have guessed, beneath the charming smile that played on their lips, the rage and hatred which swelled their hearts.
"Now," the general continued, "I believe we can return to the ballroom?"
"I am at your orders, general."
Don Sebastian opened the door of the room, and stood against the wall. The count passed him.
"Do you play, Don Louis?" the general asked him.
"Rarely; still, if you wish it, I shall be happy to cover your stake."
"This way then."
They entered a room in which several monte tables were established. The gamblers were collected before a table, at which a man, who had an enormous pile of gold before him, was enjoying extraordinary good luck. The man was Don Cornelio. After conversing for some time with Doña Angela, the Spaniard, attracted by the irresistible charm of gold, approached the monte tables, and, fascinated in spite of himself, he had risked the few ounces he possessed.
Luck had been favourable to him; so constantly favourable, that in less than an hour he had gained nearly all the gold of all the players who had ventured to hold their ground against him; so that he eventually won an enormous sum. At the moment the count and the general arrived near him, Don Cornelio's last adversary retired, completely cleaned out, and the fight ceased for want of combatants; so that the Spaniard, after looking around him, and seeing that no one cared longer to contend with him, began with unchangeable coolness thrusting into the vast pockets of hiscalzonerasthe ounces piled up before him.
"Oh, oh!" the general said, gaily, "it seems that the Atravida company is in luck to-night, Señor Don Louis; it gains on all sides at once."
The count smiled at this double-edged compliment.
"Let us see if I shall change the vein?" Don Sebastian continued, "Will you play against me, Don Louis?"
"On one condition."
"What? I accept it beforehand."
"This: I have a peculiar custom of never playing more than three stakes."
"Good."
"Wait a minute. I play them, doubling each time."
"The deuce! And if you lose one of the three?"
"That is of no consequence; still, I do not think I shall lose," he said with perfect calmness.
"What! You do not think you will lose?"
"No; I confess to you that I have great luck in play. The reason is, probably, because I care very little about winning."
"That is possible; still, what you tell me is so curious, that I should like to convince myself of the fact."
"It only depends on you."
By degrees, the guests had drawn nearer the two gentlemen, and formed a group around them. Doña Angela had also advanced, and was now close to Don Louis' side.
"Come," the general said, "let us play three stakes."
"At your orders."
"How much shall we set?"
"What you please."
"Suppose we say 2000 piastres?"
"Agreed."
The general took up a pack of new cards.
"If you have no objection," he remarked, "we will neither of us cut."
"As you please."
"But who shall be dealer?"
"I," Doña Angela suddenly exclaimed, as she seized the pack of cards.
"Oh, oh!" the general said with a smile, "take care, Don Louis; my daughter is enlisted against you."
"I cannot believe that the señorita is my enemy," the count replied, as he bowed to the young lady.
Doña Angela blushed, but said nothing; she unfastened the pack, and shuffled the cards.
"Two thousand piastres," the general said. "Deal, my child."
She began turning up the cards.
"Lost!" she said in a moment.
"That is true," said the general; "I have lost; now for the second.Caramba!Take care, niña, we are playing this time for 4000 piastres."
"Lost!" she cried.
"Again! That is singular. Come, Don Louis, the last one."
"Perhaps it would be better to stop here; neither you nor I, general, care for this money."
"That is the reason I wish for the third stake; besides, luck may have favoured you hitherto."
"Did I not warn you?"
"Come, come; I wish to be certain."
"Lost!" the young lady said for the third time, in her harmonious voice.
"Caramba!This is really singular. I owe you 14,000 piastres, Don Louis. I allow that you have really extraordinary fortune."
"I know it," the count answered, still perfectly cool; "and now permit me to leave you. Señorita, accept my grateful thanks for the kind assistance you granted me in this matter."
The young lady bowed, ashamed and blushing,
"Tomorrow, at daybreak, the 14,000 piastres will be at your house, Don Louis."
"Do not hurry yourself, general; I shall have the honour of seeing you again."
The count thereupon took leave, and withdrew with Don Cornelio, obsequiously accompanied to the door of the last room by the general.
"Double traitor!" the count muttered, as he mounted. "Take care of yourself, for now I see your game. In spite of your cunning, you have let me read your thoughts."
The count, followed by his escort, thoughtfully returned to the house he inhabited. He was reflecting on the means to be employed in foiling the machinations of his enemies, and carrying out his expedition successfully. As for Don Cornelio, he only thought of one thing—the luck he had had during the evening; and, while galloping by Don Louis' side, he mentally calculated the number of ounces he had gained, of which fact he had not yet been able to assure himself satisfactorily.
The American character is made up of contrasts; and one of the strangest of these is the honesty and punctuality with which play debts are liquidated. The man who would remorselessly assassinate another to rob him of two reals, would not fail to pay him, within twenty-four hours, any gambling debt, however large it might be.
The next morning, on waking, Don Louis found on the table of his room several canvas bags, filled with ounces. They contained the 14,000 piastres, lost on the previous evening by the general, and which the latter had sent at sunrise.
Louis was annoyed at this punctuality, which, in his ignorance of Mexican habits, he was far from expecting. It appeared to him of evil omen. He dressed; and, after breakfasting, left Don Cornelio engaged in counting his previous evening's gains, and wrapping himself in his cloak, went out with the intention of looking at the town.
As, during his walk, he passed before the palace, he took advantage of this circumstance to give his card to one of the general's criados, not wishing, after the conversation they had held, to force himself upon him, but intending to call in person the next day.
The count employed several hours in traversing the town, visiting the churches, of which two or three are rather fine, and smoking sundry cigarettes on the Alameda, a delightful promenade shaded by noble trees, where the fair sex of Pitic breathe the fresh air every evening. At length, he returned home, shut himself up in his room, and earned on his correspondence till a late hour.
The next day, as he had resolved, he proceeded to the palace: it was closed. The general, summoned by an important affair, had started at four o'clock the previous afternoon on horseback, only taking with him a small squadron of lancers. But, the man added who gave the count this information, his excellency the general would not be long absent; he would probably return within four days. The count, try all he knew, could obtain no more positive information. The Mexicans, ordinarily so gossiping, can become, when their interests demand it, as dumb as fish; and in that case it is impossible, either by money or promises, to get a single syllable from them.
Don Louis retired, excessively annoyed at thiscontretemps, which seemed expressly prepared for him; still, in order to clear up his doubts, and not wishing, under circumstances so grave, to act lightly, and commit any imprudence, although the general's behaviour seemed to him highly improper, he resolved to wait a few days, in order that he might have right on his side, by proving that Don Sebastian's departure had been premeditated for the purpose of avoiding any further explanation with him.
Daily, the count sent one of his men to the palace to inquire whether the general had returned. The answer was always the same. The general was absent, but it was certain he would soon return: he was indeed expected at any moment. Eight days passed thus. Another subject of restlessness then arose, to increase the count's annoyances and the impatient feeling that was beginning to conquer him.
On leaving Guaymas, he had given orders to the officer to whom he gave the temporary command of the company, to start to join him after four days. The men, then, must not only have started, but must be close to Pitic, as the two towns were only fifteen leagues apart, a distance which an armed body can easily cover between two suns; and yet, since his leaving the port, the count had received no news—no reply to his letters; and the company did not make its appearance.
What had happened since his leaving Guaymas? What new obstacles had been interposed to the movement of his company? Whence resulted this incomprehensible delay of four days? Why had not the officer left in charge informed him of what had occurred? Or had his couriers been interrupted on the road? Why had not Valentine or Curumilla, those two resolute and devoted men, for whom the greatest obstacles had no existence, come to warn him?
All these suppositions, and many others that offered themselves to the count's perplexed mind, threw him into a state of moral excitement impossible to describe. He knew not what to resolve, what means to employ, in order to acquire a certainty a hundred fold preferable to the doubt that gnawed him. At length, he decided on sending Don Cornelio, in whom he believed he could trust, at full gallop to Guaymas. That gentleman was out, however, and was sought for without being found.
This new obstacle culminated the count's feverish impatience. He mounted his horse, and started with the intention of exploring the environs of the town, in the secret hope of discovering some traces of his comrades, or at least learning some news about them. During the four hours he galloped in every direction, he saw nothing, and heard nothing. He turned back—a prey to a mighty sorrow, and heavy discouragement.
On approaching his house, the sound of a jarana reached his ears, and he hurried on his steed. Don Cornelio, carelessly seated on a stool in the porch of the house, was strumming his guitar, singing, as was his wont, his inevitable romance of King Rodrigo. On perceiving Don Louis, the Spaniard threw his instrument far from him, and rose with a cry of joy.
"At length!" he shouted.
"Why at length?" the count answered. "I consider the exclamation curious, since I have been searching after you, and could not lay my hand on you."
The Spaniard smiled mysteriously.
"I know it," he said; "but this place is not propitious for talking. Don Louis, will you permit me to accompany you to your cuarto?"
"With the greatest pleasure; the more so, as I also wish to speak with you."
"Come, that is a charming coincidence."
On reaching his room, Don Louis turned to his companion.
"Well," he said to him; "what have you to tell me?"
"Listen. This morning, according to my daily custom, I was walking about after breakfast, smoking a papelito, when, at the corner of the Calle de la Merced and the Calle San Francisco, I felt a slight touch on my arm. I turned sharply. A charming woman, or at least I suppose so, for it was impossible for me to distinguish her features, so carefully were they hidden in the folds of her rebozo, made me a sign to follow her. What would you have done in my place, Don Louis?"
"I do not know, my friend; but I entreat you, be brief, for I am in a hurry."
"Well, I followed her. You know that I have an idea about Mexican women, and am convinced that some day or other——"
"In Heaven's name, my friend, come to the point," Don Louis interrupted him, stamping his foot impatiently.
"I am doing so. I followed her then. She entered the church of la Merced, I at her heels. The church was deserted at that moment, which caused me a lively pleasure; because in such a case a man can talk at his ease. Do not be impatient, I have come to it. When I reached a rather dark corner, the young and charming female, for I assert that she is both, turned so suddenly that I almost trod on her toes. 'Are you not Don Cornelio Mendoza?' she asked me. 'Yes,' I replied.
"'In that case,' she said, 'you are a friend of the count.' I guessed at once that the stranger alluded to you. 'I am his intimate friend,' I continued. 'That is well,' she added, drawing from her bosom a small note, which she placed in my hand; 'give him this as quickly as possible, it alludes to very grave matters.' I seized the paper, on which I mechanically fixed my eyes; when I raised them again, my incognita had disappeared, fled like a sylph, leaving no trace. It was impossible for me to catch her up, for the confounded place was so dark."
"Well, and where is the note?" Don Louis asked.
"Here it is. Oh, I did not lose it! It was too warmly recommended to me."
The count took it, and, without deigning a glance, threw it on the table. Since his arrival at Pitic he had received twenty a day, and had not answered one; he did not even read them now, as he felt convinced they all meant the same thing.
"And now," he added, "you have finished, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Then listen to me in your turn," he continued, handing him the letter he had prepared for the hunter during his absence. "You will mount this instant, start for Guaymas; give this letter to Don Valentine, and bring me back the answer. You understand?"
"Of course."
"I can rely on your diligence?"
"I start."
He went out. Ten minutes later, Don Louis heard the hurried footfalls of a horse re-echoing before the gateway.
"Tomorrow, at this hour, I shall know on what I have to depend," Don Louis muttered.
He threw himself on a butaca; and, resting his elbows on a table, he buried his head in his hands, and fell into deep thought. In this position, his eyes were involuntarily fixed on the note Don Cornelio had given him, and which was just in front of him. A sickly smile played on his lips.
"Poor fools!" he muttered, "who only dream of love and pleasure, to whom life is only one long festival. What need have I of your false protestations, to which I cannot respond? Love for me no longer exists. Like all the women who have preceded her, this one, doubtlessly, offers me an eternal love, which she will forget tomorrow. Why trouble myself about such absurdities? My heart is dead to joy—only too dead, alas!"
And he thrust the paper away.
The night was rapidly falling, and the count kindled a lucifer match to light a candle; but, as frequently happens to people deeply engaged, when he held the lucifer to the candle, he perceived that the former was nearly burnt out. Then, mechanically, he took up the note he had spurned, folded it up, and was going to twist it into a spill; but all at once he stopped, threw the match on the floor, lit another, and read this note, so despised a moment previously. The following were the contents:—
"A person interested in the Count Don Louis begs him, for his own sake, to go this evening to the Alameda at ten o'clock, under the first walk on the left. A person seated on the third bench will say to him 'Guaymas,' he will answer 'Atravida,' and follow her at a distance, without addressing other questions to her, to the spot where she is directed to lead him, and where the count will learn matters which, for his own safety and that of his comrades, it is important for him to know."
This strange note was not signed.
"What is the meaning of this?" the count said to himself. "Is it a mystification? For what object? Is it a snare offered me, in which they wish me to fall? By Heaven, I will know the truth! What hour is it—nine? I have still an hour before me. If my mysterious correspondent meditates an assassination, he will find with whom he has to deal. Who knows? Perhaps it is really a warning a good friend wishes to give me? I shall soon see."
While saying this, the count had changed his clothes for others of a dark hue. He put on his waist belt, through an iron ring of which, according to the Mexican fashion, he passed a sheathless machete; he placed two excellent revolvers in his girdle, wrapped himself carefully in the folds of a wide cloak, pulled his broad brimmed hat over his eyes, and prepared to go out.
"By Jove!" he said, as he crossed the threshold of the house, "armed as I am, the brigands who attempt to attack me will have their work cut out."
At the moment the count entered the street, it struck a quarter to ten by the clock of the Cabildo.
"I have just time," he said.
And he began walking quickly. The night was dark, the streets were deserted. As the count had expected, he reached the Alameda exactly as the clock struck ten.
"Let us see," he said.
He then walked with a firm step, though looking carefully around, and with his hand on his arms, in fear of a surprise. Conforming to the instructions of the note, he proceeded toward the walk indicated to him. He soon distinguished a dark form, which he recognised as that of a female seated on a bench. The count was then ashamed of his suspicions, left his hold of his arms, and, after reflection, was on the point of returning, supposing that this rendezvous was not so serious as he had at first supposed. Still, after a moment's reflection, he resolved on carrying out the affair to the end, and walked toward the stranger, who remained perfectly calm. At the moment he was passing her she coughed gently, and the count turned to her.
"Guaymas" she said in a low voice.
"Atravida" the count replied in the same tone.
"Come."
"Go on."
The strange woman rose, and not turning once, proceeded with a firm and hasty step along the Alameda, and turned into a narrow street inhabited by leperos, stopping before a house of rather wretched appearance. She then opened the door with a key she held in her hand, and went in, being careful to leave the door ajar. The count was close at her heels, and entered without any hesitation. He found himself in dense obscurity, and heard the door close behind him with a spasm at his heart.
"It is plain that I am in a wasp's nest," he said to himself.
"Fear nothing," a soft and melodious voice suddenly said, almost in his ear; "you have no occasion to alarm yourself, for these precautions are not taken against yourself."
The affectionate and almost mournful accent of this voice completely reassured the count.
"I fear nothing," he said. "Were I afraid of a snare, should I have come?"
"Listen, moments are precious. I have only a few seconds at my command."
"I am listening."
"You have powerful enemies; one especially has sworn your destruction. Take care! You would not serve his plans and become the agent of disorder, in order to help that man in gaining the object of his ambition; so that man has resolved your death."
"I despise the man's threats, for I know him."
"Perhaps so, I mention no names. Still, he is not alone against you. If you wish to foil your enemy's plans, act vigorously; above all be prudent. Treason is everywhere in Mexico, it is breathed in the air; so trust to none but well tried men. You have traitors even among those who come nearest to you."
"What do my enemies want?"
"To destroy you, I tell you, because you have refused to become their accomplice."
"Oh! I will avenge myself."
"Take care! Above all, do not remain long here. Your enemies can act the more surely in the dark, when, they know you are away from your company. Rejoin your comrades."
"I will do so this very night."
"Yes, start at once for the mines. If you can reach them before your enemies are in a position to raise the mask, you will be saved."
"Thanks for your advice, I will follow it."
"So now, good-by."
"Good-bye," the count said, with an accent of regret.
"We must not meet again."
"What! After the signal service you render me at this moment——"
"It must be. Everything parts us."
"Tell me one thing, pray."
"What?"
"Whence comes the interest you deign to show me?"
"Is the motive for a woman's actions ever known?"
"Oh, you are jesting with me, señora; that is wrong."
The strange lady sighed.
"No, Don Louis," she continued, "I am not jesting with you. What need that you should know me? Sufficient for you that I watch over you. Seek not for the motive."
"On the contrary, I am anxious to know it."
"Were I to tell you that I loved you, would you believe it, Don Louis?" she said, sorrowfully.
"Oh!" he said, with emotion, "I would pity you, madam, if you attached yourself to a wretched being like myself, whose life has only been one long suffering."
"Do you not know, then, that we women love the unhappy before all? Our mission upon earth is to offer consolation."
"Madam, I implore you, do not let me leave you thus. I should carry away in my heart a grief which nothing could cure."
"I was wrong to come," she murmured, mournfully.