"Eh, eh!" the Spaniard said with great composure, "Is that you, captain? What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, Cristo."
"Well, here I am."
"That is fortunate. When do we start?"
"All is changed."
"Eh?"
"Lead me first to your encampment, where I will explain it all to you."
"Come."
Don Cornelio followed him. This captain, whom the reader has doubtless recognised, was the old soldier of the war of independence whom we had the honour of presenting to him under the name of Don Isidro Vargas, the confidential tool of General Guerrero, to whom he was attached like the blade to the hilt.
The Spaniard, drawing his horse after him by the bridle, entered a large clearing lighted up by a dozen fires, round which were crouched a hundred men with sinister faces and irregular accoutrements, but all armed to the teeth. These bandits, whose ferocious appearance would have delighted a painter, illumined as they were by the fantastic flames of the braseros, were gambling, drinking, and quarrelling, and did not seem to notice Don Cornelio's arrival. The latter made a gesture of disgust on seeing them, but hobbled his horse near theirs, and rejoined the captain, who had already seated himself by a fire evidently made specially for him, as not one of the worthy people he had the honour of commanding came near it.
"Now I will hear you," the captain said so soon as he saw his comrade stretched out comfortably at his side.
"What I have to say will not take long."
"Let me hear it, at any rate."
"In two words, this is the matter: our expedition of this evening is useless—the bird has flown."
The captain, according to his habit in any moment of nervous excitement, rapped out a frightful oath.
"Patience!" the Spaniard went on. "This is what has happened."
And he described the way in which Father Seraphin had left the camp, accompanied by the young lady. On hearing it the worthy captain's face brightened.
"Come," he said, "all is for the best. What will you do?"
"Give me El Buitre and ten resolute men. The priest must pass through the Quebrada del Coyote: on arriving there I promise to strip him."
"And what shall I do during that time?"
"Whatever you like."
"Mil rayos!since I am here, I will remain; but I shall quit this encampment at daybreak, and after leaving a party to beat up the country, I will join the general at Ures."
"Then he is at Ures at this moment?"
"Yes, temporarily."
"Very good; then you will see me there with my prisoners."
"Agreed."
"And now make haste; I must start at once."
The captain rose, and while Don Cornelio was drawing his horse's girths tighter, he gave orders to ten of his men to prepare for an expedition. Within five minutes the little party left the clearing under the orders of the Spaniard, and took up the missionary's trail. The reader knows already what took place in the pass, which was not more than two leagues from the spot where the bandits lay in ambush. We will, therefore, leave Don Cornelio, and confine our attention to Captain Vargas.
"On my word," the captain said to himself when the Spaniard had left him, "I prefer that matters should end thus. There are only blows to be gained from those confounded Frenchmen, deuce take them! Now we shall be quiet for the whole night, so we will go to sleep."
The captain was not so safe as he imagined, though, and the night was not destined to be so quiet as far as he was concerned. On leaving the camp Valentine explained to his comrades the nature of the expedition they were going on, and recommended them to play Indian; that is to say, employ craft. On entering the forest in which Captain Vargas was hidden, the Frenchmen had heard the sound of horses, and seen the bandits under the Spaniard's command flash past in the darkness like a baud of black shadows. Not wishing to defer the execution of his plans, and possibly surrender the substance for the shadow, the hunter contented himself with sending an intelligent man after the party, in order to know what became of it; and the Frenchmen, after dismounting, crept into the forests like reptiles.
Nothing was more easy than to surprise the Mexicans. The latter believed themselves so safe that they had not even taken the precaution to post sentries round their bivouac, who might warn them in case of danger. Huddled pell-mell round the fires, the greater part were asleep, or already, plunged in that seeming lethargy which precedes sleep. As for the captain, he was wrapped up carefully in his cloak, and, with his feet to the fire and his head on a saddle, was fast asleep.
The adventurers reached the centre of the clearing without the slightest sound betraying their approach. Then, in accordance with the orders they had received, they seized the firelocks and sabres placed near each of the sleepers, formed a pile of them, and then cut the picket ropes of the horses, which they drove off with blows of the chicote. At the terrible noise produced by the headlong course of the horses, which spread in every direction, snorting and neighing, the Mexicans awoke. They remained for an instant as if petrified at the sight of the adventurers, who surrounded them on all sides with levelled muskets. By an instinctive movement they felt for their arms, but they had been removed.
"Con mil rayos y mil demonios!" the captain shouted, as he stamped his foot furiously, "we are taken like rats in a trap."
"Hilloh!" Valentine said with an ironical laugh, "you are no longer majordomo, then, Señor Don Isidro Vargas?"
"And you," he answered with a grin of rage, "as it seems, are no longer a dealer in novillos, Señor Don Valentine?"
"What would you?" he said cunningly. "Trade is so very bad."
"Hum! not very bad with you, it seems."
"Hang it! you know men do what they can;" and turning to de Laville, he said, "My dear captain, all these caballeros have reatas: be good enough to employ them in binding them tightly."
"Eh, Señor Don Valentine?" the ex-majordomo shouted. "You are not merciful to us."
"I! What an error, Don Isidro! Still, as you know, war has certain necessities. I am taking my precautions—that is all."
"What do you intend to do with us?"
"You shall see, for I do not wish to deprive you of the pleasure of a surprise; and, by the way, how do you find what I have just done to you? It is as good as what you were preparing for us, I think?"
Captain Vargas could find no reply: he contented himself with gnawing his fingernails, after assuring himself, by a glance all around, that flight was as impossible as resistance. At this moment the man whom Valentine sent off to watch the scouting party returned, and whispered a few words in his ear. The hunter turned pale: he looked at the Mexican captain in a way that made him shudder, and then addressed his party.
"Tell off ten men to mount at once," he said sharply. "Captain de Laville, you will answer to me on your head for these bandits, whom I leave in your hands. Return to the camp quietly. I will join you, probably, on the road. The first who attempts to escape, blow out his brains pitilessly. You understand me?"
"You may be at ease: it shall be done. But what has happened?"
"The bandits we saw going off on our arrival intend to attack Father Seraphin."
"Death and the devil! you must make haste."
"I intend to do so. Good-by! Woe to you scoundrels! If a hair falls from the missionary's head you shall be all shot," he added, turning to his terrified prisoners.
And with this fearful promise he went off, followed by the few adventurers chosen to accompany him. On entering the pass the hunter met the fugitives, on whom he rushed. Unfortunately the latter had seen them first; and they succeeded in escaping by abandoning their horses, and clambering like cats up the almost perpendicular sides of the mountain. Valentine, without losing time in a futile pursuit, hastened to join the missionary.
"Ah!" the latter exclaimed on seeing him, "my friend, my dear Valentine, had it not been for Curumilla, we were lost."
"And Doña Angela?"
"Thanks be to Heaven, she is saved."
"Yes," she said, "thanks to Heaven and to these caballeros, who arrived just in time to protect us."
One of the strangers approached.
"Pardon me, sir," he said in excellent French, "but you are the French hunter of whom so much is said—Valentine Guillois, I think?"
"Yes, sir," Valentine answered with surprise.
"My name, sir, is Belhumeur."
"I know you, sir: my foster brother has often mentioned you as his best friend."
"I am delighted that he has kept me in such pleasant memory. Allow me to present to you Don Rafaël Garillas de Saavedra."
The two men bowed and shook hands.
"We have formed acquaintance like men of honour," Valentine remarked.
"Is not that the best form of introduction?"
"We cannot remain any longer here," Father Seraphin observed.
"I will myself return with you, señor padre," Don Rafaël said. "I intended to proceed to the count's camp; but I have found a better way of seeing him and securing his friendship."
"And what is that way?"
"By offering a shelter to Doña Angela at the Hacienda del Milagro, which belongs to me."
"Yes," the missionary said; "pardon me, Don Rafaël, for not having thought of that: it is the refuge best suited for this lady."
"I accept gratefully," the young lady murmured; and bending down to the hunter's ear, she whispered, smiling and blushing at the same time, "Don Valentine, will you undertake to say one word for me to Don Louis?"
"One!" he said. "What is it?"
"For ever!"
"Come, I will not recall my word," he said with a good-humoured laugh. "You are an angel: I shall end by loving you madly."
"Let us go!" she exclaimed.
"Will you not join our party, Belhumeur?" Valentine asked.
"Certainly; for I wish to speak with Don Louis."
"That is it," Don Rafaël observed. "I will escort the padre with Black Elk and Eagle-head. Señor Don Valentine, Belhumeur will serve as your guide to the Hacienda del Milagro."
"By Jove!" Valentine said with a laugh, "you will probably see me before you expect."
"Come whenever you please: you will ever be welcome."
After exchanging affectionate farewells the two parties turned their back on each other, and left the gorge by opposite roads.
[1]Enemy whom I adore, of Spain the second Helen, oh that I were born blind, or you born without beauty! Accursed be the day and hour when my star caused me to be born! Breasts that nourished me, better to have given me death. You will pay——
[1]Enemy whom I adore, of Spain the second Helen, oh that I were born blind, or you born without beauty! Accursed be the day and hour when my star caused me to be born! Breasts that nourished me, better to have given me death. You will pay——
The sun had risen nearly an hour when Valentine, and the band he commanded, joined Captain de Laville and the prisoners again at about two leagues from La Magdalena. The Mexicans were marching with bowed heads, and hands fastened behind their backs, between two files of French horsemen, with their rifles on the thigh, and finger on the trigger. The captain was slightly in advance of his men, conversing with the old Mexican officer, whose legs had been tied under his horse's belly, owing to an attempt at escape he had made.
In the rear came the prisoners' horses, easily recaught by the adventurers, and loaded with the muskets, sabres, and lances of their ex-masters. When the two bands united they went on more rapidly. Valentine, had he wished it, could have reached the camp before sunrise; but it was important for the success of the expedition, at the head of which the count had placed himself, that the population of La Magdalena, at this moment increased tenfold by the strangers who, owing to the festival, had flocked in from all parts of Sonora, should understand that the French had not undertaken an expedition so feather-brained as was supposed, or at least as the Mexican Government wished it to be supposed, and therefore the prisoners would march into camp in broad daylight.
The count, warned by Curumilla, whom the hunter sent on in advance, determined to give great importance to this affair, and display a certain degree of ostentation: consequently the whole army was under arms; and the flag, planted in front of the count's tent to the sound of bugles and drums, was saluted by the shouts of the adventurers. As the count had foreseen, the inhabitants of La Magdalena rushed to the camp to witness the sight the count prepared for them; and the road was soon covered by curious persons on horse and on foot, hurrying to be the first to arrive. When the head of the detachment reached the camp gates it stopped at a signal from Valentine, and a bugler sounded a call. At this summons an officer came out.
"Who goes there?" he shouted.
"France!" Captain de Laville, who had advanced a few paces, replied.
"What corps?" the officer continued.
"The liberating army of Sonora!"
An immense shout, raised by the populace, drowned the words.
"Enter," the officer said.
The barrier was raised, the drums began beating, the bugles sounding, and the marching past began. There was something really grand in this scene, so simple in itself, but which made the heart beat more rapidly when you examined the resolute air of this handful of men, left to themselves without succour, six thousand leagues from their country, who so proudly sustained the name of France, and who, at the beginning of the campaign, without firing a shot, returned with a hundred prisoners captured at the moment they were preparing to surprise the camp.
The Sonorians, under an involuntary emotion, regarded the Frenchmen with a respectful timidity, mingled with admiration, and, far from pitying the fate of their compatriots, they overwhelmed them with yells and jests. So great is the influence of courage and energy on these primitive races! When the prisoners were collected in the middle of the camp square the count approached them, surrounded by his staff and some of the chief inhabitants of La Magdalena, who followed him instinctively, carried away by their enthusiasm. It was really a holiday. Floods of light inundated the landscape; a gentle breeze refreshed the atmosphere; the bugles played merry tunes; the drums rattled; and the assembled populace uttered shouts of joy, while waving handkerchiefs and hats. The count smiled, for he was momentarily happy. The future appeared to him less gloomy and sad. He examined the prisoners for a moment with a pensive eye.
"I have come to Sonora," he at length said in a piercing voice, "to give liberty to the people of this country. I have been represented to you as a cruel and faithless man. Begone! You are free! Go and tell your countrymen how the chief of the pirates avenges the calumnies spread abroad about him. I do not even ask of you the promise not to bear arms against me again. I have on my side something which is stronger than all the soldiers who can be opposed to me—the hand of God, which guides me; for He wishes that this country should be at length free and regenerated. Unfasten those men, and restore them their horses."
The order was immediately obeyed, and the people greeted this generous resolution with shouts and ebullitions of joy. The prisoners hastened to quit the camp, though not before they had displayed by energetic protestations, their gratitude for the count's generosity. Don Louis then turned to Captain Isidro.
"As for you, captain," he said gravely, "you are one of the few lions left from that war of independence which overthrew the Spanish power. We are brothers, for we both serve the same cause. Take back your sword: a brave man like you must always wear it at his side."
The captain looked at him gloomily.
"Why can I no longer hate you?" he replied. "I should have preferred an insult to your generosity. Now I am no longer free."
"You are so, captain. I ask from you neither friendship nor gratitude. I have acted as I thought it my duty to do. Let us each follow our own road, but let us try not to meet again."
"Your hand, caballero; and now a word."
"Speak."
"Take care of the persons in whom you place confidence."
"Explain yourself."
"I can say no more, or I should be a traitor myself."
"Oh, ever, ever the same treachery!" the count muttered, growing thoughtful.
"And now farewell, caballero. If I am forbidden to wish the success of your plans, at least I will do nothing against them; and if you do not see me among the ranks of your friends, I shall not be in those of your enemies."
The old captain bounded into his seat, made his horse perform a few graceful curvets, and after bowing to the company, started at a gallop.
The remainder of the day was one continued festival. The count had succeeded: his generous conduct to the prisoners bore its fruits. The French adventurers had risen enormously in the opinion of the Sonorians. The count had already acquired a great influence in the country, and several persons began to prognosticate a successful issue for the expedition.
At nightfall Don Louis convoked all the chiefs of the army to a secret council of war. By a providential accident, the count, who would doubtlessly have permitted Don Cornelio to be present at the council, owing to the confidence he placed in him, had sent that gentleman to La Magdalena to buy several horses he required. This commission, by preventing the Spaniard's presence at the council, insured its secrecy.
Don Cornelio had succeeded by a miracle in escaping the hunter's pursuit, and had re-entered the camp unnoticed about two hours before the arrival of the prisoners. He had killed his horse, but was this time at least safe himself, for no one dreamed of suspecting him; and even had it been the case, nothing would have been easier for him than to establish analibi.
At eight in the evening the roll call sounded, the camp gates were closed, and the officers proceeded to head quarters; that is to say, the jacal inhabited by the count. A row of sentries, set about ten paces distant from the hut, so as to be themselves out of hearing distance, had orders to fire on the first person who attempted to enter the place of meeting without orders.
The count was seated at a table, on which a road map of Sonora was laid out. The assembly was composed of some fifteen persons, among whom were Valentine, Curumilla, Captain de Laville, and Belhumeur, who was too intimate a friend of the count to be excluded from a conference of such an important nature. When all had arrived the door was shut, and the count rose.
"Comrades," he said in a firm voice, though suppressed, lest he should be heard outside, "our expedition is about to commence in reality: what we have done up to the present is nothing. I have several times sounded, either myself or through my spies, the intentions of the richest hacenderos or campesinos of this State. They seem very well disposed toward us; but let us not be deceived by fallacious promises. These people will do nothing as long as our expedition does not rest on a solid base of operations; in other words, we must seize on a city. If we succeed, our cause is gained, for the whole country will rise for us. I have led you to this place because La Magdalena forms the extremity of an angle at which three roads debouch, each leading to one of the chief cities of Sonora; and it is one of those cities we must carry. But which shall it be? That is the question. All three are crammed with troops: in addition, General Guerrero holds the roads leading to them, and he has sworn," the count added with a smile, "to make only one mouthful of us, if we dare to take one step in advance. But that disquiets you but very slightly, I suppose: let us, therefore, return to the important question. Captain de Laville, be good enough to give us your opinion."
The captain bowed.
"I am inclined for Sonora," he said. "It is a new city, I grant, but it bears the name of the country we propose to deliver, and that is an important consideration."
Several officers spoke in turn, and the majority ranged themselves on the side of Captain de Laville. The count then turned to Valentine.
"And what is your opinion, brother?"
"Hum!" the hunter said, "I am no great hand at talking, as you know, brother," he answered. "Still I have a certain knowledge of warfare, which may perhaps inspire me rightly. You want a rich and manufacturing city, in order to protect the opulent inhabitants of the country from any sudden attack, and whence you can effect your retreat without danger, if too numerous forces try to crush you. Is it not so?"
"Indeed, the city we seize must combine these three conditions as far as possible."
"There is only one which combines them."
"It is Hermosillo," Belhumeur said.
"That is true," Valentine went on. "That city is inclosed with walls. It is theentrepôtof all the trade of Sonora, and consequently very rich; and, which is of the last importance to us, it is only fifteen leagues from Guaymas, the port where reinforcements will land coming from California, if we require them, and where we can seek a refuge if we are compelled to fight our retreat."
The truth of these words was immediately recognised by the hearers.
"I am also inclined for Hermosillo," the count said; "but I must not conceal from you that General Guerrero, who, after all, is an experienced soldier, has so well comprehended the advantages which would result to us from the occupation of that city, that he has concentrated imposing forces there."
"All the better, count!" de Laville exclaimed. "In that way the Mexicans will learn to know us at the first blow."
All applauded these words, and it was definitively settled that thearmyshould march on Hermosillo.
"Another objection," the count said: "the Mexicans are masters of the three roads. We must put them off the scent."
"That is my business," Valentine said with a laugh. "Good! we will make demonstrations on three sides at once, so as to keep the enemy on the move, and we will advance by forced marches on Hermosillo. Still I am afraid we shall lose a heavy number of men."
Curumilla rose. Up to this moment the Araucano had remained silently on a stool, smoking his Indian calumet, and not seeming to hear what was said around him.
"Let the chief speak," Valentine said; "his words are worth their weight in gold."
Everyone was silent.
"Curumilla," the chief said, "knows a crossroad which abridges the distance, and of which the Mexican general is ignorant. Curumilla will guide his friends."
The chief then took up his calumet again, and sat down once more as if it were nothing. From this moment the discussion was at an end. Curumilla, according to his custom, had cut the knot by removing the most dangerous obstacle.
"Comrades," the count said, "the wagons and guns are horsed. Wake up your men, and break up the camp silently. The inhabitants of La Magdalena, on getting up tomorrow morning, must not know what has become of us."
Then taking Captain de Laville and Valentine one side,—
"While I am going along the crossroad under the chiefs guidance, you, captain, will proceed in the direction of Ures; and you, brother, will march on Sonora. Get near enough to be seen, but do not engage in any skirmish; fall back, and join me again at once. We can only conquer our enemies by the rapidity of our movements."
"But in case we cannot join you on the road," Valentine objected, "what place will you appoint for our meeting?"
"The Hacienda del Milagro, four leagues from Hermosillo," Belhumeur said. "Headquarters will be there."
"Yes," the count said, furtively pressing the Canadian's hand.
The meeting broke up, and each went to execute the orders he had received. The camp was broken up in the utmost silence, and the most minute precautions were taken to allow none of the movements to transpire outside. The bivouac fires were left lighted; in short, nothing was touched which could cause any suspicion of a hurried departure.
At about eleven in the night the two parties, under Valentine and Captain de Laville, set out in different directions: the count soon followed them with the main body and the baggage, so that by midnight the camp was entirely deserted. Curumilla had not deceived the count. After about two hours' march he made the troops wheel to the right, and entered a narrow path, in which there was just room for the vehicles, and the whole company disappeared in the infinite windings of a true wild beast's track, in which it was impossible to suppose that an armed body, accompanied by numerous and heavy wagons and field pieces, would ever venture.
Still, when the first obstacles were overcome, this road, which appeared so difficult, offered no serious causes for delay, and the Frenchmen pushed on rapidly. Two days after they were rejoined by the detachments which had operated on their flank. Captain de Laville and Valentine had been completely successful in deceiving the general, whose advanced post still continued to guard the roads, little suspecting that they had been turned.
This march lasted nine days, through numberless difficulties, over shifting sand which fled beneath the feet, under a parching heat with no water, and, during the last two days, with no provisions or forage. But nothing could lessen the courage of the men, or destroy their inexhaustible gaiety: they went on bravely, keeping their eyes fixed on their chief, who went on foot before them, consoling and encouraging them. On the evening of the ninth day they saw in the distance, in the centre of a well-wooded landscape, the outlines of a considerable hacienda. It was the first house they had come across since leaving La Magdalena.
"What hacienda is that?" Don Louis asked Belhumeur, who walked by his side.
"The Hacienda del Milagro," the Canadian answered.
The Frenchmen uttered a shout of joy: they had arrived. They had marched sixty leagues in nine days, along almost impracticable roads.
Curumilla had kept his promise. Thanks to him, the column had not been molested.
When within gunshot of the hacienda the count commanded a halt.
"De Laville," he said to the captain, "push on ahead, and occupy the hacienda in force: we shall have our headquarters there."
"What is the use of that?" Belhumeur asked. "Did you not put faith in my words, then? Don Rafaël and his family will be delighted to receive you and greet you with open arms."
The count smiled, and bent down to the Canadian's ear.
"My friend Belhumeur," he said to him in a low voice, "you are a child who will understand nothing. I take these precautions which grieve you so much, not for my own sake, but on behalf of our friends. Supposing, as may be unfortunately the case, that we are beaten by the Mexicans—what will happen then? That Don Rafaël will inevitably fall a victim to the sympathy he has evinced for us; while, by acting as I do, he bows to force, and the Mexican authorities will be unable, in spite of all their desire, to render him responsible for our stay at his house."
"That is true," the Canadian answered, struck by the logic of this reasoning.
"Still," Don Louis continued, "in order to avoid any misunderstanding, you will accompany the captain, and while he is talking loudly you can whisper to our friends what the reason is."
Five minutes later the detachment started at a gallop, followed presently by the rest of the column. All took place as the count had arranged. Warned by Belhumeur, Don Rafaël protested energetically against the forced occupation of the hacienda, and feigned only to yield to superior force. The estate was definitively occupied, and Don Rafaël mounted with some of his servants, in order to go and meet the column; but, by the count's orders, it did not stop at the hacienda, but pushed on and camped about two leagues from Hermosillo.
The count and Rafaël met, not like strangers to each other, but as old friends delighted at meeting again, and entered the hacienda, conversing in a low voice. Before dismounting, the count sent off couriers and scouts in every direction, in order to have certain news about the enemy; and only keeping with him an escort of eight men, he sent the others to the bivouac, and entered the hacienda.
Don Ramon, Don Rafaël's father, and Doña Luz, that amiable woman whose touching history we told in a previous story,[1]were waiting, surrounded by their servants, the arrival of the Frenchmen at the door of the hacienda.
"You are welcome, valiant combatants for the independence of Sonora," General Don Ramon said as he held out his hand to the count.
The latter leaped from his horse.
"May God grant that I may be as fortunate as you have been, general!" he replied with a bow. Then, turning to Doña Luz, "Pardon me, madam," he said to her, "for having come to trouble your peaceful retreat: your husband is alone to blame for the indiscretion I am committing at this moment."
"Señor conde," she answered with a smile, "do not make such excuses: this house and all it contains belong to you. We see your arrival with joy—we shall witness your departure with sorrow."
The count offered his arm to Doña Luz, and they entered the hacienda. But the count was restless—his glance wandered incessantly.
"Patience!" Don Rafaël said to him with a meaning smile; "you will see her. It would have been imprudent for her to appear sooner, so we prevented her."
"Thanks!" the count said; and the cloud which obscured his noble face disappeared at once.
The interview of the two lovers was as it should be; that is to say, calm, affectionate, and deeply felt. The count warmly thanked Father Seraphin for the protection he had accorded the maiden.
"Ere long," Doña Luz said, "all your torments will be ended, and you will be able to yield to the passionate emotions of your heart without constraint."
"Yes," the count answered pensively, "tomorrow will probably decide my fate, and that of the woman I love."
"What do you mean?" Don Rafaël exclaimed.
The count looked anxiously around him: he saw that he could speak, and that those who pressed toward him were sincere friends.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I shall attack Hermosillo and take it, or fall dead in the breach."
All present were in a state of stupor. Don Rafaël made Black Elk a sign to stand outside the door to keep off all comers, and then returned to the count.
"Have you really that idea?" he asked him.
"Were it not so, should I be here?" he said simply.
"But," Don Rafaël continued urgently, "Hermosillo is an inclosed town with strong walls."
"I will force them."
"It has a garrison of 1200 men."
"Ah!" he said indifferently.
"For two months the militia have been exercised daily."
"Militia!" he replied with a disdainful air. "I suppose, at any rate, they are numerous?"
"About 3000 men."
"All the better."
"General Guerrero, who has at length discovered that his flank was turned, has thrown himself into the city with 6000 Indians, and is awaiting other reinforcements."
"That is the reason, my friend, why I must attack at once. I have already, according to your calculation, opposed to me 11,000 men, intrenched behind good walls. The longer I wait, the more numerous they will grow; and if I do not take care," he added with a laugh, "that army will end by growing so considerable that it will be impossible for me to destroy it."
"You are perhaps unaware, my friend, that Hermosillo is surrounded by market gardens, which render the approaches almost impracticable?"
"Believe me, my good friend," the count replied carelessly, "I shall enter by the gates."
The company gazed on the count with an amazement akin to terror. They looked at each other, and seemed to be asking whether they had not to deal with a maniac.
"Pardon me, my friend," Don Rafaël continued, "but I think you said that you intended to attack tomorrow?"
"Certainly."
"But supposing your troops have not arrived?"
"What! my troops not arrived? Did not you see them march past the hacienda an hour ago?"
"Yes, I saw a small detachment pass—your vanguard, of course."
"My vanguard!" the count exclaimed with a laugh. "No, my good friend, that small detachment forms my entirearmy."
Don Rafaël, Don Ramon, and, the other persons present were men of recognised courage. On several occasions they had sustained giant combats against enemies tenfold in number; in short, they had furnished proof of the most extravagant courage and most insane temerity. But the count's eccentric proposition of going coolly with a handful of adventurers to take a city defended by 10,000 men seemed to them so extraordinary and so incredible, that they remained dumb for a moment, hardly knowing whether they were awake or suffering from a frightful nightmare.
"Tell me, my friend," Don Rafaël exclaimed, his arguments quite exhausted, "how many men can you deploy in line?"
"Hang it! not many," the count said with a smile, "I have invalids: still I can dispose of about two hundred and fifty, and I hope they will be sufficient."
"Yes," Doña Angela said enthusiastically, "they will be sufficient, for the cause these men defend is holy, and God will protect them."
"Don Rafaël," the count said simply, "have you ever heard of what is called thefuria Francese?"
"Yes, but I confess to you that I do not exactly understand what it is."
"Well," he added, "wait till tomorrow, and when you have seen this formidable army crushed, destroyed, and dispersed like autumn leaves by the wind; when you have been present at the capture of Hermosillo, you will know whatfuria Franceseis, and understand the prodigies of valour which history has recorded, and Frenchmen perform almost in sport."
The conversation ended here, and they proceeded to the dining room, where the refreshments, of which the count stood in such need, had been prepared. So soon as they rose from table the count asked leave to retire to the apartment prepared for him, and begged Father Seraphin to follow him. They remained for a long time shut up, talking ear to ear. When the missionary came out his eyes were red, and traces of tears furrowed his pale cheeks. The count pressed his hand.
"So, then," he said, "in case of a mishap——"
"I will be there, count, trust me;" and he retired slowly.
During the evening, and, indeed, far into the night, the count listened to the reports of his scouts and spies: the news they brought coincided in every respect with the information imparted by Don Rafaël. General Guerrero had hurried to Hermosillo, where he was securely intrenched.
Valentine and Curumilla were the last to arrive; but they were not the bearers of bad news. Valentine, at the head of a party of foragers, had, by Curumilla's advice, advanced along the Guaymas road, and surprised a convoy of provisions and ammunition intended for the Mexicans. This had been taken to the camp by the hunter's care, and was warmly welcomed by the Frenchmen, whose stock of food, as we have seen, was entirely exhausted. Captain de Laville, for his part, had surprised three or four of the enemy's patrols, which had imprudently advanced too far. The count sent Curumilla to the captain with orders to take advantage of the darkness of the night to advance, and push on his advanced posts to within a gun-shot and a half of the town.
When alone with Valentine he spread out a plan of Hermosillo on the table, and both bending over it, began studying it attentively. We have already described Hermosillo several times: we will limit ourselves to saying that the market gardens by which that city is surrounded are inclosed with walls, behind which it is easy to placetirailleurs, whom the nature of the ground enables to fall back from post to post, constantly protected by the walls, which are about three feet in thickness, and built ofadobas. In addition, on the side on which the count was marching, a wide and deep ditch, which could only be traversed by means of a bridge, at the end of which a strong body of troops was doubtless posted, formed an almost impregnable defence.
As may be seen from our description, Hermosillo is far from being an open town, which can be seized without striking a blow; and, in attempting to carry it at the head of 250 men, the Count de Prébois Crancé, if he succeeded, might justly flatter himself on having accomplished one of the greatest exploits of modern times.
General Guerrero, according to the reports of the scouts, and the Mexican officers under his command, affected a superb contempt for these naked-footed Frenchmen, as they called them, and promised to give them so rough a lesson that they would not feel disposed to begin again. Curumilla, however, had brought back a piece of news which could not fail to give the count hopes. In spite of the immense preparations he had made, against the company, General Guerrero had been so surprised by the news of its hurried march on Hermosillo, and the daring manner in which it had turned its advanced posts, that, in his hurry to go to the aid of the menaced city, he had been constrained to leave behind him the greater part of his forces, and the city, in reality, only contained twelve or fifteen hundred defenders, doubtlessly a very large number, but much less than the count had expected to find.
Curumilla had peacefully entered the city. His being an Indian served as his safeguard, and he had seen, visited, and examined everything. This news the Araucano brought back on reporting to the count the execution of the orders sent through him to Captain de Laville. The count and the hunter rubbed their hands, and hastened to make their final arrangements.
Among the hacenderos present at the conference of La Magdalena was one whose influence was immense upon the pueblos. It was the man who, in the name of his countrymen, had assured the count that, so soon as an important town had fallen into the hands of the French, the signal for revolt should be given, and the country roused in a few days, in order to effect a decisive diversion. Don Louis, not wishing to lose a moment, and in the certainty of success, wrote him a letter in which, after announcing to him the fall of Hermosillo, he urged him to be ready to support him, and give the signal for insurrection.
We mention this fact to prove not only that the count believed himself sure of succeeding, but also foresaw everything with that sublime intuition only possessed by men of genius.
The letter written, and the last arrangements made, the count and Valentine left the room. It was about two in the morning: the sky was gloomy, and warm gusts coming from the desert bowed down the leafy crowns of the trees.
The two foster brothers went down into the patio, where all the inhabitants of the hacienda had assembled to salute the count on his departure. Doña Angela, wrapped up in a long white dressing gown, with pallid face and eyes filled with tears, looked like a phantom in the glare of the torches shaken by the peons. The escort had mounted and sat motionless. Curumilla held the horses of the two Frenchmen. When they appeared, all raised their hats and saluted with a deep and respectful bow.
"Farewell, Don Louis," Don Rafaël said to him. "May Heaven grant you the victory!"
"May Heaven grant you the victory," Don Ramon repeated, "for you are fighting for the independence of a people!"
"Never were more fervent prayers offered up than we shall make for you, Don Louis," Doña Luz then said.
The count felt his heart contract.
"I thank you all," he said with much emotion. "Your wishes do me good: they prove to me that among the Sonorians there are some who comprehend my noble object. Thanks once again."
Doña Angela came up to the count.
"Don Louis," she said to him, "I love you. Do your duty."
The count bent down to her, and imprinted a kiss on her pale forehead.
"Doña Angela, my affianced!" he said with a tenderness impossible to render, "you will see me again either a conqueror or a corpse."
And he made a move as if to depart. At this moment Father Seraphin came to his side.
"What!" he said with surprise, "do you accompany me, my father?"
"I am going where duty calls me, sir," the missionary replied with that angelic simplicity which was so characteristic of him—"where I shall find pain to console, misfortunes to alleviate. Let me follow you."
Louis pressed his hand silently, and after bowing once again to the friends he was leaving, perhaps for ever, he gave the signal for departure, and the cavalcade soon disappeared in the darkness.
Doña Angela remained cold and motionless in the doorway so long as she could hear the horses' hoofs echoing on the road. When every sound had died away in the distance a long-restrained sob burst from her.
"Heavens, heavens!" she exclaimed in despair, and stretching out her hands to the sky. Then she fell back in a fainting fit. Doña Luz and Don Rafaël hastened to her aid, and carried her into the hacienda, where they eagerly tried to restore her to consciousness. Belhumeur tossed his head several times, and prepared to shut the gate of the hacienda.
"Not yet," a voice said to him; "let us go out first."
"Eh, what?" he said. "Where the deuce do you want to go at this hour, Black Elk?
"To tell you the truth," the hunter answered, "I am almost a Frenchman, since I am a Canadian, and so I am going to help my countrymen."
"Halloh!" Belhumeur exclaimed, struck by these words, "that's not a bad idea. By Jove! you shall not go alone; I will accompany you."
"All the better; then there will be three of us."
"How three? Who else is coming with us?"
"Eagle-head, by Jove! The chief says there are down there some Indians, enemies of his nation, whom he should like to have a set-to with."
"Let us be off, then. I believe that the count will be pleased to have three fighting men more, like us, in his company."
"By Jove! I should think so," Belhumeur said.
"I do not care," Black Elk remarked, "whatever you may say, he is a fine fellow. What do you think about him, you who know him, eh?"
"Tough as hickory," the Canadian answered intrepidly.
Without further commentary the three bold hunters mounted and proceeded in the track of the count.