"Oh! Say not so, as you have perchance saved my life."
"Farewell, Don Louis," she replied, with an accent of ineffable gentleness; "we must part. Whatever may occur, remember that you have a devoted friend—a sister."
"A sister!" he remarked, bitterly, "be it so. If that is your wish; madam, I do not insist."
"Take this ring, as you wish absolutely to know who I am. My name is engraved upon it, but promise me not to read it for three days."
"I swear it," he replied, holding out his hand in the darkness.
A hand seized on his, pressed it gently, left a ring in it; and then he heard a slight rustling of silk, and a soft voice murmured farewell for the last time. The count heard a door close, and that was all. In a second, the door which had granted him admission to the house opened again. Don Louis wrapped himself in his cloak, and went out, a prey to considerable agitation. He reached his abode at full speed; from a distance he perceived a man standing before his gateway. The count, through a secret presentiment he could not explain, hurried onward.
"Valentine!" he suddenly exclaimed, with marks of amazement.
"Yes, brother," the other answered; "fortunately I met Don Cornelio. Your horse is ready; come, let us start."
"What is the matter, then?" he exclaimed, anxiously.
"Off, off! I will tell you all on the road."
Five minutes later, the adventurers started at full speed on the road from Pitic to Guaymas.
We will leave Don Louis and Valentine galloping on the road to Guaymas, and explain to the reader what had occurred in that town during the count's absence.
The French company formed at San Francisco was not completely made up, when the hunter brought his friend the money he required: about a dozen men were still deficient. Pressed by time and wishful to reach Sonora as soon as possible, Don Louis neglected to employ the same precautions in enrolling these men, as he had with the rest. He accepted almost anybody that presented himself. Unfortunately, among the new recruits were four or five scamps, to whom any restraint was unendurable, and who entered the company solely impelled by that instinct for evil which governs vicious natures; that is to say, with the secret intention of committing every crime that might prove profitable to them, so soon as they reached Mexico.
During the passage from San Francisco to Guaymas, and even so long as the count remained in the latter town, these persons carefully avoided showing themselves in their true colours, justly fearing punishment; but so soon as the count left Guaymas for Pitic, they threw off the mask, and in company with a few scamps of their own stamp, whom they picked up in the slums about the port, commenced a life of disorder and debauchery.
Colonel Florés and Don Antonio did not fail to profit by the irregular conduct of these men, and planted spies upon them, who excited them by all the means at their command to redouble their disorderly conduct. These emissaries cleverly spread the report that Don Louis had purposely deceived his comrades, that the mines of the Plancha de la Plata had no existence, that he had obtained no concession, and that his object was very different from what he had stated to his followers.
These calumnies, at first weak and as it were ashamed to expose themselves in broad daylight, in a short time obtained a degree of consistency; and a great fermentation was visible in the company. The officers, justly alarmed at what was passing, assembled in council, and resolved to warn the count of the alarming state of matters, and the dangers that menaced the expedition. Colonel Florés, as delegate of the government, was present at this council, and gave his opinion that a courier should be despatched to the count at once. The courier was really sent off, but almost immediately intercepted. This happened on the third day after the count's departure. The officer to whom he intrusted the command, reassured by the departure of the courier, and desirous to cover his responsibility by executing the orders he had received, ordered the assembly to be sounded at daybreak of the fourth day, and issued orders for immediate departure.
Murmurs broke out on all sides, cries and yells were heard, and for some time there was an inextricable confusion. Colonel Florés had hurried up, on hearing what was taking place. He insinuated that it would be probably imprudent to leave Guaymas, with the soldiers in their present state of excitement, and that it would be better to await the count's return, who, warned by the courier sent off the previous day, would doubtlessly arrive at once, and a hundred other more or less specious arguments.
But the temporary commandant was an old African soldier, trained in habits of discipline, and who only obeyed his orders. He replied sharply to the colonel that he begged him to attend to his own affairs, for what was occurring in no way concerned him. As for himself he had his orders, and would obey them, whatever the consequences might be.
Colonel Florés finding himself so sharply taken up, and perceiving that he was on the wrong road, immediately changed his batteries, and perfectly coincided with the officer, whom he urged to continue as he had begun, and not yield an inch to the insubordination of his soldiers. The commandant shrugged his shoulders contemptuously at these new suggestions from the worthy colonel, and walking into the middle of the yard, where the soldiers, forming scattered groups, were consulting together, he ordered the buglers to sound the assembly.
He was at once obeyed; but the adventurers yelled at the buglers, and redoubled their shouts and vociferations. The commandant remained motionless on the spot he had selected, with his arms folded on his chest; when the buglers had given the call, he pulled out his watch and coolly looked at the hour. The insurgents watched him closely, the other officers had come up, and ranged themselves round their chief.
"Return to your squads, gentlemen," he said to them in a clear voice, which, though not raised above the tone of an ordinary conversation, was distinctly heard by all. "Your men have five minutes to fall in; we shall start in a quarter of an hour."
A prolonged laugh greeted these words. The commandant returned his sabre to its scabbard, and walked with a measured step straight up to one of the scamps who had been the originator of the tumult, and who appeared to insult him most of all. The man started on seeing his chief walking toward him, and instinctively looked behind him. The shouts had ceased, and the adventurers, were waiting curiously the issue. When the commandant was only two paces from the man, he stopped, and looking him firmly in the face said,—-
"Were you laughing at me just now?"
The other hesitated to reply.
"It is not the chief who is speaking to you at this moment," the officer continued, "but the man you have insulted."
The adventurer felt that the eyes of all his comrades were fixed upon him; so he recalled all his effrontery.
"Well, supposing I was?" he said insolently.
"In that case," the officer continued quietly, "you are a scoundrel."
"A scoundrel?" the other retorted, in a passion. "You must be more careful in your language, I advise you."
"You are a scoundrel, I repeat; and I am going to punish you."
"Punish me?" he said, sneeringly; "come on then."
"Give the fellow a sabre," the officer said, turning to the spectators.
"A sabre? What for?"
"To give me satisfaction for your insult."
"I do not know how to use a sabre."
"Ah, that is the case, is it? You insult me because, you fancy yourself supported by your comrades, and that I am alone; but your comrades are brave men; they know me, and would not wish to insult me."
"No, no!" several voices exclaimed.
"While you are a miserable coward, unworthy longer to belong to the company. I dismiss you; you are no Frenchman; be off!"
Then, with a strength he little thought he possessed, the officer seized the man by the collar of his coat, and hurled him twenty paces. He jumped up, and ran off at full speed followed by a general yell.
The officer was not mistaken. The fellow was not a Frenchman. But why need we divulge his nationality? A whole nation must not be responsible for the villainy of a single man.
When the officer turned round again after this summary execution, he saw that all the adventurers had fallen in, and were standing motionless and silent. The commandant reproached nobody, and did not appear to remember any longer the resistance offered to him. All men are alike. To subdue them, you must prove to them that you possess a decided superiority over them.
Colonel Florés was stupefied. He understood nothing of what was taking place.
"Hum!" he muttered to himself; "what energy! What courage! I fancy we shall not find it an easy matter to master men like these."
The commandant, after assuring himself by a glance that the company had really returned to its duty, gave the order for starting. This order, at once repeated by the subaltern officers, was obeyed without the slightest murmur; and the adventurers set out on their march, preceded by a long file of mules, carrying the baggage, and two or three carts, conveying invalids. The guns (for the count had judged it necessary to augment his artillery), were in the centre, dragged by mules. The march was closed by the cavalry, a detachment of ten men having been previously told off to form the vanguard.
The Frenchmen traversed Guaymas at a quick step, amid the shouts and wishes of success of the population collected on their road. Don Antonio accompanied the company to the Rancho de San José, which forms, as it were, a suburb of Guaymas. On arriving there, he took leave of the officers in the most friendly manner, repeating his offers of service; and after pressing the hand of Colonel Florés, who went on with the adventurers, and exchanging a glance with him, he returned to the port.
It was late when the Frenchmen started. The heat was stifling; consequently they could not cover much ground, retarded, as they were, by the mules and carts. At sunset, they encamped at the entrance of a village, about four leagues from the town.
The commandant imagined he had gained everything by inducing the company to leave Guaymas; but he was mistaken. The leaven of discord, artfully spread among the adventurers, was still at work, and was carefully kept up by the men to whom we have alluded. It was by no means the interest of these fellows to bury themselves in the interior of the country, where they would have no chance of finding what they had come to Mexico for, namely, opportunities for robbery and debauch. Thus, far from feeling discouraged by the check they had received that very morning, they intended to begin again, as soon as the occasion presented itself.
Valentine, who carefully watched all that went on around him, took the commandant on one side when the camp was formed, and warned him of the insubordination in the company. The latter, however, attached no great importance to the hunter's observations; for he was persuaded that, after the vigorous manner in which he had behaved, the adventurers would not dare to mutiny again.
Valentine's previsions were only too well founded, as the commandant had proof the next morning, when he wished to start again. The adventurers bluntly refused; threats or prayers were equally unavailing; they remained deaf to every observation. It was no longer mutiny, but a perfect revolt, followed only too soon by utter anarchy. The promoters of disorder triumphed; still they could not succeed in inducing their comrades to return to Guaymas.
Through a remnant of that feeling of duty which never deserts soldiers, the adventurers were unwilling to abandon the count; they returned merely to the old charges that had been suggested to them. They wanted a proof that the mines really existed, that their chief had a regular concession, and that they were not cheated. In addition to these demands they set up another, which would completely compromise the future of the company, were it granted. They demanded that all the officers chosen by Don Louis should be broken, and the company be permitted to choose others by vote.
Valentine remarked to them that they could do nothing during their chiefs absence. They must await his return, or commit a flagrant act of illegality; for Don Louis was at liberty to choose whom he pleased for officers, as he was the sole leader of the expedition, and alone responsible for its conduct.
The adventurers at length yielded to this reasoning, which appeared to them just; and, in order to stop as soon as possible these discussions which only delayed the affairs of the company, it was settled that Valentine should start the next morning for Pitic, and bring back the count with him. Valentine promised to do what they wanted, and tranquillity was gradually restored for the remainder of the day.
The next morning, at daybreak, therefore, Valentine mounted his horse, and started for Pitic. We have seen that he was fortunate enough to find Don Louis, and in what way he brought him off. On the road he told his friend all that had occurred, in the fullest details. Hence, the count was burning to arrive at the camp to check the disorder, and prevent the dissolution of the company, whose existence was seriously menaced, if such a state of things was allowed to continue only a few hours longer.
At daybreak, the horsemen reached the camp. All was topsy-turvy; confusion and disorder prevailed on all sides. The adventurers would listen to nothing. The officers, rendered powerless, knew not what to do, or how to turn away the storm that threatened them. But the sudden arrival of the count was a thunderbolt for the mutineers.
Don Louis leaped off his horse, and walked resolutely toward them. At the sight of him, the adventurers involuntarily felt the feeling of duty re-aroused in their hearts, which they had vainly striven to stifle.
"The assembly!" the count shouted in a thundering voice.
Yielding to this man's magical influence, which they had so long been accustomed to respect, they obeyed orders, and assembled around him.
"Not so," he continued; "fall in."
The first step was taken, they formed their ranks. The count surveyed them, looking closely along the ranks. The adventurers stood silent and gloomy; they felt themselves guilty. These hardened men trembled, not from fear but shame. The count addressed them.
"What have you to reproach me with, comrades?" he said to them, in his gentle and sympathising voice. "Since the moment I first collected you around me, have I not done all in my power to improve your position? Have I not constantly treated you as my children? Speak: if I have injured one of you, or committed a single act of injustice, tell it me? You have been led to believe that I am deceiving you, that I was not the owner of the Plancha de Plata, that this mine did not exist. Look here," he added, as he drew a document from his chest, "here are the papers; the agreement is regularly drawn up, the stations are prepared up to the mines. Now, have you faith in me? do you now suppose that I am deceiving you. Answer!"
He was silent for a moment; but not a voice was raised to answer him.
"Ah! That is the state of the case," he continued; "now listen to me. The mines to which I am leading you contain incalculable wealth. These riches will be yours. I shall only take what you give me. You shall settle my share. Will you now accuse me of wishing to cheat you for my own profit? You ask for fresh officers chosen by yourselves. I will never consent to such a condition. Your officers are men in whose capacity I have full and entire confidence: they well keep their positions. Among you there are cowards, who have become the tools of my enemies for the purpose of destroying us. These men all belong to the second squad. They had better spare me the trouble of discharging them with ignominy."
The adventurers, carried away by their chiefs frank and honourable language, rushed toward him, uttering shouts of joy. Peace was made: all was forgotten. The emissaries, so suddenly discharged, profited by the general enthusiasm to disappear without beat of drum.
"Here is a courier!" Valentine suddenly said.
The count turned sharply. Alancerowas coming up at full gallop.
"El señor conde?" he asked.
"I am he," Don Louis answered.
The soldier held out to him a sealed despatch. The count took it with an indescribable flutter of the heart, and rapidly ran over the lines. Suddenly he uttered a shout of joy.
"Listen," he said; "here is the order I have so long been expecting. The President of the Republic authorizes us to set out immediately for the mines. Comrades, we will be off at once for the Plancha de Plata."
"To the mines!" the adventurers shouted.
On folding up the paper, Don Louis noticed a few words in French written at the foot of the envelope.
"What is this?" he muttered.
He then read:—
"Start at once. Perhaps counter orders have already been given. Your enemies are on the alert."
"Oh!" the count said, "what do I care now? I will manage to foil all their tricks."
The adventurers set to work gaily in preparing the carts for the long journey they would have to go. The two field pieces were carefully fastened on their carriages; in short, all preparations were taken to avoid the accidents inseparable from a journey across the desert.
The adventurers worked with such zeal to terminate their preparations, that within two hours the column was on their march for Apacheria. The joy was at its height, the enthusiasm general. One man alone doubted, and that man was Valentine.
The fact was, that the hunter was acquainted with the Mexican character, the groundwork of which is cunning, treachery, and roguery; and, in spite of himself, he trembled for his comrades.
[The further adventures of the gold-seekers will be found in the concluding volume of this series, which is called "The Indian Chief."]