About midnight the storm broke out, but towards morning the hurricane became a little calmer, and the sun on rising, quite dispersed it. It was then that the five adventurers were able to discover the disasters produced by the tempest; some trees were broken and twisted like straws, while others, uprooted by the blast, lay with their roots in the air. The prairie was one vast marsh. The river, generally so calm, so limpid, so inoffensive, had invaded everything, rolling muddy waters, laying flat grass and plants, and digging deep ravines. Valentine congratulated himself on having in the evening established his camp upon the declivity of the mountain instead of descending into the plain, swallowed up by the furious waters.
The first care of the travellers was to rekindle their fire. Trangoil-Lanec looked about for a large flat stone. Upon this stone he laid a bed of leaves, with which the fire was at length lighted. Upon the damp earth it would have been impossible to obtain any. Soon a column of clear flame ascended towards the heavens, and revived the courage of the travellers. When breakfast was ended, gaiety returned, the sufferings or the night were forgotten, and the five men only thought of past miseries as an encouragement to support patiently those which still awaited them. Valentine began—
"We were wrong last night," he said, "to let Don Tadeo leave us."
"Why so?" Louis asked.
"Good Heavens! we were at that moment under the effects of a terrible impression, and did not reflect on one thing which has just occurred to me."
"And what is that?"
"This: as soon as Don Tadeo has accomplished the duties of a good citizen, it is evident to all of us that he will resign immediately a power he has accepted quite against his will."
"That is evident enough."
"What, then, will be his most anxious desire?"
"To set off in search of his daughter," said Louis.
"Or to join us."
"That is all the same thing."
"Granted; but there an impassable obstacle will rise."
"And what can that be?"
"The want of a guide to conduct him to us."
"That is true," the four men exclaimed.
"What is to be done?" Louis asked.
"Fortunately," Valentine continued, "it is not yet too late. Don Tadeo requires to have with him a man entirely devoted to him, perfectly acquainted with the country we propose to search, who could follow us on our track."
"Yes," said Trangoil-Lanec.
"Well," Valentine resumed, "that man is Joan."
"That is true," the Indian observed, "I will be his guide."
"Joan will leave us, I will give him a letter which Louis will write, and in which I will inform Don Tadeo of the mission with which our friend is charged."
"Good," said Curumilla, "our friend thinks of everything; let Louis write the letter."
"Well," cried Valentine, "now I think of it, it is all the better that this idea did not occur to me before."
"Why so?" said Louis in astonishment.
"Because poor Don Tadeo will be so happy to hear from us."
"That is true," said the count.
"Is it not? Well then, write the note, brother."
The count did not require to be told twice, but set to work immediately, Joan on his side.
"Brother," Valentine said to him on giving him the note, which the Indian concealed under the ribbon which bound his hair, "I have no instructions to give you; you are an experienced warrior."
"Has my brother nothing to say to me?" Joan replied, with a smile. "I leave my heart with you; I shall know where to find it again."
He bowed to his friends; then the brave Indian departed rapidly, bounding like a guanaco through the high grass.
"Brave fellow!" Valentine exclaimed, as he re-seated himself before the fire.
"He is a warrior," Trangoil-Lanec said proudly.
"Now, chief," continued the spahi, "suppose we have a little chat."
"I listen to my brother."
"Well, I will explain myself; the task we have undertaken is a difficult one! I would even add, it is impossible, if we had not you with us; Louis and I, notwithstanding our courage, would be obliged to renounce it; for in this country, the eyes of the white man, however good they may be, are powerless to direct him."
Trangoil-Lanec reflected for a few minutes, and then replied—
"My brother has spoken well; yes, the route is long and bristling with perils, but let my pale brothers leave it to us; brought up in the desert, it has no mysteries for us."
"That is exactly what I mean, chief," said Valentine; "as to us, we have only to obey."
"This point agreed upon," the count observed, "there is another not less important."
"What is that point, brother?" Valentine asked.
"That of knowing which way we are to direct our course, and when we shall set off."
"Immediately," Trangoil-Lanec replied; "only we ought to adopt a line from which we will not deviate."
"That is reasoning like a prudent man, chief; submit your observations to us."
"I think," said Trangoil-Lanec, "that to recover the track of the pale blue-eyed maiden, we must return to San Miguel."
"That is my opinion," said Valentine; "I cannot, indeed, see how we can do otherwise."
Curumilla shook his head dissentingly.
"No," he said, "that track would mislead us."
The two Frenchmen looked at him with astonishment, whilst Trangoil-Lanec continued smoking.
"I do not comprehend you, chief," said Valentine.
"Let my brothers listen," exclaimed Curumilla. "Antinahuel is a powerful and formidable chief; he is the greatest of the Araucano warriors. He has declared war against the palefaces; this war he will carry on cruelly, because he has with him a Huincas man and woman, who, for their own purposes, will urge him to invade their country. Antinahuel will assemble his warriors, but he will not return to his village. The blue-eyed maiden was carried off by the woman with a viper's heart, in order to induce the chief to enter upon this war. In order to discover the track of the female puma, the hunters follow that of the male; to find the track of the maiden, we must follow that of Antinahuel."
He ceased, reclined his head upon his breast, and waited.
"In good truth," said the count, "the reasons the chief has given seem good."
"Yes," Valentine added, "I believe that my brother Curumilla has hit the mark. It is evident that Antinahuel loves Doña Rosario, and that it was for the purpose of giving her up to him that that hideous creature had the poor girl carried off. What do you think, Trangoil-Lanec?"
"Curumilla is one of the most prudent Ulmens of his nation; he has the courage of the jaguar and the cunning of the fox. He alone has judged properly."
"Let us then follow the track of Antinahuel," said Valentine gaily. "That will not be difficult."
Trangoil-Lanec shook his head.
"My brother is mistaken; we will follow the track of Antinahuel, but we will do so after the Indian fashion."
"That is to say?"
"In the air."
"Pardieu!" Valentine said, stupefied.
The chief could not help smiling.
"If we were to blindly follow the track of the Toqui," he said, "as he has two days in advance of us, and he is on horseback, and we on foot."
"Caramba!" said the young man, "that is true. I did not think of that. How can we procure horses?"
"We do not require any in the mountains; we travel more quickly on foot. We will cut the track in a straight line; every time we fall in with it we will carefully note its direction, and we will continue acting thus till we feel certain of finding that of the pale maiden."
"Yes," Valentine replied; "your plan is ingenious; you are certain not to lose your way or your time."
"Let my brother be satisfied on those points."
"Tell me, travelling thus, as the bird flies, when do you think we are likely to overtake the man?"
"By the evening of the day after tomorrow."
"What! so quickly as that? It is incredible!"
"My brother will reflect; whilst our enemy will travel four leagues across the plain, by following the road we are about to take, we shall travel eight on the mountains."
"Pardieu! we must apply to you to know how to overcome distance. Act exactly as you think best, chief."
"Shall we start at once, then?" Valentine asked.
"Not yet," replied the Ulmen; "everything is a guide in the desert; if it should happen that we who pursue, should, in our turn, be pursued, your boots would betray us. Take them off, and the Araucano warriors will be blind."
Without making a reply, Valentine took off his boots, and took moccasins.
"Now," said the Parisian, laughing, "I suppose I may as well throw the boots into the river."
"By no means, my brother!" Trangoil-Lanec replied seriously; "the boots must be taken care of."
The two young men had each a leathern knapsack, which they carried on their shoulders, and containing their absolute necessaries. Without a word, they fastened the boots to the knapsack, and buckled it on their shoulders. Curumilla had soon finished his job, and he gave each of them a pair of moccasins, exactly like his own, which he tied on for them.
As soon as the Chilians had evacuated the rock, Antinahuel turned with an air of ill-humour towards General Bustamente.
"I have done as my brother desired," he said; "what more does he wish?"
"Nothing at present, chief, unless you, on your part, consent also to depart."
"My brother is right; we are no longer of any use."
"Absolutely none; but since, henceforward, we are free to act as we please, if agreeable to my brother we will go to the council lodge."
"Good!" the Toqui replied, following with a malevolent glance the last ranks of the Chilian soldiers.
The general placed his hand resolutely on his shoulder, at which the Toqui turned sharply round.
"What does the white chief want?" he asked.
"To tell you this, chief," the general replied, coolly; "of what consequence are thirty men, when you can immolate thousands? What you have done today is the height of policy. By sending away these soldiers, you appear to accept your defeat, and renounce, as feeling yourself too weak, all hopes of vengeance."
The brow of the chief expanded, and his look became less savage.
"Yes," he murmured, as if speaking to himself, "there is truth in what my brother says; in war we must often abandon a hen to obtain a horse afterwards. Let us go to the council lodge."
Antinahuel and the general, followed by Black Stag, returned to the toldo.
"That young man who presented himself here possesses a great heart," Antinahuel said, looking at Don Pancho; "my brother, doubtless knows him?"
"On my word no," the general remarked; "I saw him this morning for the first time; he is one of those vagabonds from Europe who come to rob us of our wealth."
"No; that young man is a chief."
"Hum I you seem interested about him."
"Yes; as we are naturally interested in a brave man. I should be happy to meet him again."
"Unfortunately," the general said, "that is not very probable."
"Who knows?" the chief observed in a pensive tone, "but let my brother listen; a Toqui is going to speak."
"I listen," the general replied.
"Whilst that young man was here," Antinahuel resumed impassively, "I examined him attentively; when he did not think my brother was looking at him, he cast strange glances at him."
"I do not know him, I tell you, chief," the general replied; "and suppose he should be my enemy?"
"An enemy should never be despised," said Antinahuel; "the meanest are often the most dangerous. But let us return to the subject of our meeting: what are my brother's present intentions?"
"Listen to me in your turn, chief; we are henceforward bound to each other by our common interests. I am convinced that if we mutually aid each other, and support each other frankly and loyally, we shall obtain magnificent results."
"Good! my brother will explain his views."
"I will not beat about the bush; this is the treaty I propose to you: help me frankly in recovering the power I have lost—give me the means of avenging myself on my enemies, and I will abandon to you for ever, in full proprietorship, not only the entire province of Valdivia, but, still further, that of Concepción as far as Talca."
At this magnificent offer the countenance of Antinahuel did not betray the least trace of emotion.
"My brother," said he; "gives what is not his."
"That is true," the general replied, curtly; "but I shall have it if you assist me, and without me you will never have it."
The chief slightly knitted his brow; the general feigned not to perceive it, but continued—
"It is for you to take it or leave it, chief; time passes."
The matter being put to him so shortly, the Toqui reflected a minute, then turned towards the general.
"Who will guarantee the execution of my brother's promise?" he said, looking him full in the face.
"Let my brother name what guarantee he demands," said the general.
"A smile of undefinable expression curled Antinahuels lips. He made a sign to Black Stag, who rose and left the tent."
"Let my brother wait a moment," said the Toqui.
The general bowed without replying. At the end of a few minutes Black Stag returned, followed by an Araucano warrior bearing a kind of rickety table, hastily knocked together, of badly-jointed pieces of wood. Upon this table the Toqui silently placed paper, pens, and ink.
"The palefaces," he said, "possess much learning; they know more than we poor ignorant Indians do; my brother knows that. I have been among the whites, and have seen many of their customs; let my brother take this pen, and let him repeat to me there," he added, "what he has just said to me; then, as I shall keep his words, the wind will not be able to carry them away."
The general seized the pen, and dipped it in the ink.
"Since my brother mistrusts my words," he said, in a tone of pique, "I am ready to do what he desires."
"My brother has ill-understood my words," Antinahuel replied, "I have the greatest confidence in him, I in no way mean to offend him; only I represent my nation."
Don Pancho saw there remained no subterfuge by which he could escape. Turning towards Antinahuel, therefore, he said with a smile—
"So be it! My brother is right; I will do what he desires."
The Toqui bowed gravely, the general placed the paper before him, wrote a few lines rapidly, and signed them.
"There, chief," he said, presenting the paper to Antinahuel; "that is what you require."
"Good!" the latter replied, taking it.
He turned it this way and he turned it that, as if to make out what the general had written; but as may be supposed, all his efforts produced no results. Don Pancho and Doña Maria watched him closely. At the expiration of a minute, the chief made another sign to Black Stag, who went out, but in a very short time returned, followed by two Indians leading a Chilian soldier between them.
"Moro Huinca," he said, in a rough voice, "can you explain what is set down on this paper?"
"What?" the soldier replied.
The general then added:—
"The chief asks you if you can read."
"Yes, señor," the wounded man stammered.
"Good!" said Antinahuel; "then explain it."
And he gave him the paper.
The soldier took it mechanically. It was evident that the poor wretch, stupefied by terror, did not understand what was required of him.
"My friend," said the general, "as you know how to read, have the goodness to explain to us what is written on this paper. Is not that what you desire, chief?" he said, addressing the Toqui.
The soldier, whose terror was a little calmed by the friendly tone of the general, at last comprehended what was expected of him; he cast his eyes over the paper, and read as follows:—
"I, the undersigned, Don Pancho Bustamente, general of division, ex-minister at war of the Chilian republic, engage, in favour of Antinahuel, grand Toqui of the Araucanos, to abandon, in all proprietorship, to him and to his people, to enjoy and dispose of at their pleasure now and for ever, without anyone being able to contest with them the legitimate proprietorship: first, the province of Valdivia; second, the province of Concepción, to within twenty miles of the city of Talca. This territory shall belong, in all its breadth and in all its length, to the Araucano people, if the Toqui Antinahuel, by the help of an army, reinstates me in the power I have lost, and gives me the means to retain it in my hands."
"In faith of which I have signed with my name, prenames, and qualities."
"Don Pancho Bustamente,""General of Division, ex Minister ofWar of the Chilian Republic."
Whilst the soldier was reading, Antinahuel leaning over his shoulder, appeared endeavouring to read also; when he had ended, with one hand he snatched the paper roughly from him, and with the other he plunged his poniard into his heart.
"What have you done?" the general said.
"Wah!" the chief replied; "this fellow might have talked hereafter, perhaps."
"That is true." said Don Pancho.
An Araucano warrior took up the body, placed it upon his shoulders, and carried it out of the toldo.
"Well?" the general resumed.
"My brother may depend upon me," said Antinahuel; "I must now return to my village."
"Stay, chief," the general objected; "that is losing time."
"Interests of the highest importance oblige me."
"That is useless," said Doña Maria, coolly.
"What does my sister mean?" Antinahuel asked.
"I have comprehended the impatience which devours the heart of my brother; this morning I myself despatched achasquiafter the mosotones who were conducting the pale maiden to the toldería of the Puelches, with an order to retrace their steps."
The countenance of the chief cleared up.
"My sister is good!" he said; "Antinahuel, he will remember."
"Let my brother consent, then, to do what the great warrior of the palefaces desires."
"Let my brother speak," the chief continued gravely.
"We must, if we wish to succeed, act with the rapidity of lightning," said Don Pancho; "collect all your warriors, and let their rendezvous be upon the Bio Bio. We will gain possession of Concepción by acoup-de-main;and if our movements are prompt, we shall be masters of Santiago, the capital, before they have time to raise the necessary troops to oppose their passage."
"Good!" Antinahuel replied. "My brother is a skilful chief; he will succeed."
"Yes, but we must use despatch above everything."
"My brother will see," the Toqui said, laconically.
"My brother," he added to Black Stag, "will send off the quipu and the lance of fire; in ten suns, thirty thousand warriors will be assembled on the plain of Conderkanki. I have spoken—begone."
The Black Stag bowed, and left the cuarto without reply.
"Is my brother content?" asked Antinahuel.
"Yes," the general replied; "and I will soon prove to my brother that I also can keep my promises."
The Toqui gave orders for striking the camp. An hour later, a long file of horsemen disappeared in the depths of the virgin forest which formed the limits of the plain.
Doña Maria and Bustamente were in high spirits; they both thought their object nearly obtained; they imagined they were on the point of seeing realised the hope they had so long nourished.
It had been very unwillingly that Don Tadeo de León consented to resume that power which he had so gladly once laid down when he thought tranquillity was re-established. Dull and silent he followed the troop, who appeared rather to escort a state prisoner than the man they judged to be alone able to save his country.
For some time the storm had been expending its fury, and Don Tadeo seemed to be revived by the fiery breath of the tempest; he cast away his hat, that the rain might bathe his burning brow; with his hair flowing in the wind and his eyes flashing wildly, he dug his spurs into his horse's sides, and rushed forward shouting—
"Hurrah! hurrah! my faithful fellows! hurrah for our country! forward! forward!"
His companions, in the sinister flashes of the lightning, caught occasional glimpses of the imposing shadow galloping before them, his horse bounding over every obstacle that came in his way. Suddenly electrified by this strange vision, they rushed wildly forward in pursuit of him, uttering cries resembling his own, across the inundated plain, through trees twisted and tortured by the powerful hand of the hurricane, which roared furiously. A mad ride, beyond the power of language to describe, then ensued. Don Tadeo, with his eyes flashing fire, felt himself fatally carried away by the furious delirium which compressed his temples like a vice. At intervals he turned sharply round, uttering inarticulate cries, and then, as suddenly, he lifted his horse with his spurs and his knees, and galloped forward in pursuit of some imaginary enemy.
The soldiers, terrified at this terrible crisis, of which they could not divine the cause, and filled with grief at seeing him in this unhappy state, rode after him without knowing in what way to restore him the reason which seemed to be abandoning him.
On approaching Valdivia, although still at some distance from it, they were surprised to see, at this advanced hour of the night, innumerable lights shining in the direction of the city. Don Gregorio, Don Tadeos most faithful friend, was overpowered with grief at beholding him in such a dreadful state, and tried every means to restore to him that reason which appeared every moment to be about to leave him perhaps for ever.
All at once an idea struck him, and Don Gregorio urged his horse forward, pricking it with point of his dagger to increase its speed. The noble animal lowered its head, snorted loudly, and darted off like an arrow. After a few minutes of this wild course, Don Gregorio turned his horse short round upon its hind quarters, and without relaxing his speed, retraced his steps like a whirlwind. He and Don Tadeo were now galloping in a contrary direction, and must inevitably cross or clash. As they met, Don Gregorio seized the curb rein of his friend's horse with a grasp of iron, and giving it a sudden check, stopped it short.
"Don Tadeo de León!" Don Gregorio cried; "have you forgotten Doña Rosario, your daughter?"
At the name of his daughter, a convulsive trembling ran over Don Tadeos limbs.
"My daughter!" he cried in a piercing tone, "oh I restore me my daughter!"
Suddenly a cadaverous paleness covered his countenance, his eyes closed, the reins dropped from his hands, and he sank backwards. But, quick as thought, his friend had sprung to the earth, and caught him in his arms; Don Tadeo had fainted.
"He is saved!" said Don Gregorio.
All these rough soldiers, whom no danger had the power to astonish or move, breathed a sigh of relief at hearing this word of hope. Several blankets and cloaks were quickly suspended to the branches of the tree under which the chief was placed for shelter. And all, mute and motionless, with their bridles passed under their arms, stood awaiting with anxiety the restoration to life of the man whom they loved as a father.
Nearly an hour passed away. Don Gregorio, bending over his friend, watched with an anxious eye the progress of the crisis. By degrees, the convulsive trembling which shook the body grew calmer, and he sank into complete immobility. Then Don Gregorio tore open Don Tadeo's sleeve, stripped his right arm, drew his dagger and opened a vein. No blood issued at first; but, at length, after a few seconds, a black drop, of the size of a pins head, appeared at the mouth of the wound; it increased progressively, and, at length, then followed by a second, and at the expiration of two minutes, a long stream of foaming black blood sprang from the orifice.
At length his teeth, which had remained clenched moved, and he heaved a sigh. The blood had lost the bituminous colour it at first wore, and had become red. He opened his eyes, and cast around an astonished look.
"Where am I?" he murmured faintly.
"Thank God! you are safe, dear friend!" Don Gregorio answered, he placed his thumb upon the wound; "what a fright you have given us!"
"What does all this mean?" said Don Tadeo, in a firmer voice; "tell me, Don Gregorio, what has happened?"
"Faith! it is all my fault," the latter replied. "This will teach me to choose my horses myself another time, and not leave it to a peon."
"Pray explain yourself, my friend; I do not understand you; I am so weak."
"Well you may be; you have had a terrible fall."
"Ah!" said Don Tadeo, "do you think so?"
"Caspita! Do I think so? Ask these caballeros. A miracle has saved you!"
"It is very singular! I cannot recollect anything of what you speak. When we left our friends all at once, the storm broke out."
"That was it! and your recollection is correct. Your horse took fright at a flash of lightning and ran away. When we came up with you, you were lying senseless in a ravine."
"What you say must be true, for I feel bruised, and my whole frame seems weak and exhausted."
"That is it! But, I repeat, fortunately you are not wounded; only I thought it best to bleed you."
"I thank you; the bleeding has done me good, my head is not so hot, my ideas are more calm! Thank you, my friend," he added, taking his hand.
"Perhaps you are not strong enough yet to sit on horseback." he said.
"Yes, I assure you, my strength is completely restored; besides, time presses."
Saying these words, Don Tadeo rose, and asked for his horse. A soldier was holding it by the bridle. Don Tadeo examined it attentively. The poor animal was filthy; it looked as if it had literally been rolled in the mud. Don Tadeo knitted his brow; he could not make it out. Don Gregorio laughed in his sleeve; it was by his orders that, to mislead his friend, the horse had been put in this condition.
"I can but wonder," said Don Tadeo, "when looking at this poor beast, how we both escaped!"
"Is it not incomprehensible?" Don Gregorio replied; "we can none of us account for it."
"Are we far from the city?"
"A league at most."
"Let us hasten on, then;" and the troop set off at a gallop.
This time Don Tadeo and his friend rode side by side, talking as they went, in a low voice of the means to be taken to thwart the attempts of General Bustamente. Don Tadeo had recovered all his coolness. His ideas had again become clear. One man alone was a stranger to all we have related. This was Don Ramón Sandias. The poor senator, soaked with rain, terrified at the storm, and muffled in his cloak up to the eyes, seemed to live quite mechanically. He only wished for one thing, and that was to gain some place of shelter; so he kept on and on, without knowing what he did, or whether the others followed him or not. He arrived in this manner at Valdivia, and was about to pass on when he was stopped by a man who seized his bridle.
"Hola? eh, caballero, are you asleep?" a rough voice cried.
He started with fear, and ventured to uncover one eye.
"No," he said, in a hoarse voice; "on the contrary, I am but too wide awake."
"Where do you come from, alone, so late?" the man who had before spoken continued.
"What do you mean by 'alone'?" said Don Ramón, recovering his spirits a little—"do you take my companions for nothing?"
"Your companions! What companions are you talking about?" cried several voices.
Don Ramón looked round with a terrified air.
"Well, that's true!" he said. "I am alone. What on earth has become of the others?"
"What others?" the first speaker rejoined; "we see nobody."
"Caramba!" the senator impatiently replied, "I mean Don Gregorio and his soldiers."
"What! are you part of Don Gregorios troop?" the people cried from all sides.
"To be sure I am," said the senator; "but pray let me get under shelter, for the rain pours terribly."
"You need not mind that," said a joker; "you can't be wetter than you are!"
"That's true," he replied.
"Do you know whether Don Gregorio has met with Don Tadeo de León?" Several voices asked simultaneously.
"Yes, they are coming together."
"Are they far off?"
"How the devil can I tell?"
At hearing this, the people who had stopped him dispersed in all directions, crying. "Don Tadeo is coming!" without taking any further notice of the half-drowned senator, who implored them in vain to direct him to a place of shelter. No one replied to him; all were busy lighting torches, or rousing the inhabitants of the houses, either by knocking at their doors, or calling them by their names.
"Válgame Dios!" the senator murmured in despair; "these people are all mad to run about the streets in such weather as this! Am I going to be present at another revolution?"
And spurring his horse, which was almost knocked up, he moved on with much ado, shaking his head dismally, to seek some hospitable roof where he might dry his clothes and get a few hours of repose.
Don Tadeo's entrance into Valdivia was truly a triumphant one. Notwithstanding the rain, which fell in torrents, the whole population was drawn up in the streets as he passed through, holding in their hands torches, whose flames, agitated by the wind, shed a pale, broken light, which was mingled with that of the constant electric flashes. The cries of joy of the inhabitants, the rolling of drums, were mingled with the peals of thunder and the furious hissing of the tempest.
Don Tadeo was much moved by this proof of love which the population offered him. He felt that, however great private interests may be, they are small in comparison with those of a people; that it is great and noble to sacrifice them to it, and that he who knows how to die bravely for the welfare of his fellow citizens fulfils a holy and a grand mission. His determination was formed at once. He drew his head proudly up, and saluted with a smile the joyous groups which pressed around him on his passage, clapping their hands and shouting "¡Viva Chile!" He arrived at the cabildo thus escorted.
He dismounted, ascended the steps of the palace, and turned towards the crowd. The immense square was paved with heads. The windows of the houses were thronged with people; and all the crowd were uttering deafening cries of joy. Don Tadeo saw that a few words were expected from him. He made a gesture, and a profound silence immediately prevailed.
"Dear fellow citizens!" said the King of Darkness, "my heart is touched more than I can express with the extraordinary mark of sympathy you have given me. You shall always see me in the front rank of those who fight for liberty. Be always united for the public welfare, and tyranny will never succeed in conquering you."
This little warm address was hailed with reiterated "¡Bravos!" and prolonged cries of "¡Viva Chile!"
Don Tadeo entered the palace. He there found assembled the superior officers, the alcaldes, and the principal leader of the Dark Hearts. All rose at his entrance. Since the King of Darkness had regained his popular enthusiasm he had recovered all his faculties.
"Caballeros," he said, "I am happy to find you assembled at the cabildo. Moments are precious. General Bustamente has allied himself with Antinahuel, the Grand Toqui of the Araucanos, in order the more easily to regain his power. This is the reason why he made his pronunciamiento in this remote province. Delivered by the Araucanos, he has taken refuge among them. We shall soon see him at the head of those ferocious warriors, invading our frontiers and desolating our richest provinces. I repeat to you our moments are precious! A bold initiative alone can save us. But, to take the initiative, I must have on my part, I whom you have made your leader, regular powers granted by the senate."
These words, whose justice every one acknowledged, created a profound sensation. To the serious objection raised by Don Tadeo, it was difficult to make a reply. Don Gregorio approached him, holding a folded paper in his hand.
"Take this," he said, presenting the open paper to Don Tadeo: "this is the reply of the senate of Santiago to the manifesto you addressed to them after the fall of the tyrant; it is an order which invests you with supreme power. As, after the victory, you resigned the power into my hands, I had kept this order secret. The moment is come to render it public. Don Tadeo de León! you are our leader."
At this intelligence all present arose with delight, crying with enthusiasm, "¡Viva Don Tadeo de León!"
He took the paper and ran his eyes over the contents.
"That is well," he said, returning it to Don Gregorio, with a smile, "now I am free to act."
The members of the assembly resumed their seats.
"Caballeros," Don Tadeo continued, "as I told you, a bold initiative alone can save us. We must defeat our adversary by promptness. You know the man, you know he possesses all the necessary qualities for a good general; he will not therefore fall asleep in a false security; while his ally, Antinahuel, is an intrepid chief, endowed with boundless ambition. These two men, united by the same interests, may, if we do not take care, give us a great deal to do; we must therefore attack them both at once. This is what I propose: if the plan I am about to submit to you appears vicious, as we are assembled in council, you will discuss it."
He continued—
"We will divide our forces into two parts; the first shall go by forced marches, and attack Arauca. This expedition, the sole object of which is to divide the forces of our adversaries, ought to be made in a manner which will oblige them to send important reinforcements. A second division, composed of all the men in the province capable of bearing arms, will march upon the Bio Bio, in order to lend a hand to the troops of the province of Concepción.
"But," a superior officer objected, "permit me, Don Tadeo, to say that in your plan you forget one thing."
"What is that, señor?"
"Is not this province more exposed than any other?"
"You connect the events which are about to take place there with those that have preceded them."
"Doubtless I do."
"And that is where your error lies. When Don Pancho Bustamente caused himself to be proclaimed in Valdivia, he had good reasons. This province is remote—isolated; the general hoped to make a war depot of it, and to establish himself solidly there, thanks to his allies. That plan was well conceived, it offered great chances of success. But at the present moment the question is completely changed: the general has no longer anything to rely on in this province. In my opinion we must bar his road to the capital, and force him to accept battle. As to the province of Valdivia, it is not threatened in any way; only, as in such circumstances we cannot employ too much prudence, a civil militia must be instituted in order to defend its hearths. Don Gregorio, you will take the command of the troops destined to act against Arauca. I reserve for myself the command of the army of the Bio Bio. This morning, at daybreak, Señor the Alcalde Mayor, you will cause a bando to be published in all the provinces announcing that voluntary enrolments, at a demi-piastre per day, are opened. You, Colonel Gutierrez, I name governor of the province; your first care must be to organise the civic guard."
"Your Excellency may depend upon me," the colonel replied.
"I have known you for a length of time, colonel, and I know I can leave you to act with full confidence," said Tadeo, with a smile.
The members of the assembly retired, after having again proclaimed their devotion to the good cause. Don Tadeo and Don Gregorio were left alone. Don Tadeo was quite another man. Don Gregorio looked at him with astonishment.
"Brother," said Don Tadeo, "this time we must conquer or die. You will be near me in the hour of battle; you will leave your command when at a few leagues from the city, for it is at my side you must fight."
"Thanks!" said Don Gregorio, "thanks."
"This tyrant, against whom we are going once more to measure ourselves must die."
"He shall die."
"From among the Dark Hearts select ten men, who must be employed specially in pursuit of Bustamente."
"Depend upon me."
"Send directly Don Ramón Sandias to the governor of Concepción, to warn him to be upon his guard."
Don Gregorio bowed, and retired laughing.
Instead of taking a few hours of repose, Don Tadeo, as soon as he was alone, seated himself at a table, and began to send off orders.
Several hours had passed away thus; the morning was advanced, and Don Tadeo had despatched all his couriers. At this moment Don Ramón Sandias appeared.
"Well, Don Ramón," Don Tadeo said in a friendly accent, "you are still among us."
"Yes, Excellency," the senator replied.
"Have you cause to complain, Don Ramón?" asked Don Tadeo.
"Oh, no!" said the senator, "quite the contrary."
"I am ready to weep tears of blood when I reflect that I have allowed myself to be seduced by a silly ambition, which—"
"Well, what you have lost, if you like, I will restore to you," said Don Tadeo.
"Oh! speak! speak! what would I not do for that?"
"Even return among the Aucas?" said Don Tadeo.
"Why, no—"
"Stop a moment!" Don Tadeo interrupted; "this is what I expect of you: listen attentively."
"I listen, your Excellency," the senator replied, bowing humbly.
Don Gregorio entered.
"What is the matter?" asked Don Tadeo.
"The Indian named Joan, who once served you as a guide, has just arrived."
"Let him come in! let him come in!" cried Don Tadeo, rising.
Joan now entered.
"What brings you here?" asked Don Tadeo. "Speak! my friend!"
"The white chiefs are preparing to set out upon the track of Antinahuel."
"God bless them! they are noble hearts!" Don Tadeo exclaimed.
"My father was sad last night when he parted from us."
"Yes, yes," the poor father murmured.
"Before taking the track, Don Valentine felt his heart softened at the thoughts of the uneasiness you would doubtless experience; he therefore made his brother with the dove's eyes trace this necklace."
Saying these words, he drew out the letter which was carefully concealed under the ribbon that confined his hair, and presented it to Don Tadeo.
"Thanks!" cried the father as he placed the letter in his bosom and held out his hand graciously to the warrior; "thanks to those who sent you, and thanks to you, my brother: you shall remain with me, and when the moment arrives you shall conduct me to my daughter."
"I will do so; my father may depend upon me."
"I do depend upon you, Joan."
"I am at the service of my father, as is the horse which the warrior mounts," Joan replied, respectfully.
"One instant," said Don Tadeo, clapping his hands, to which a servant responded.
"I desire," he said, in an emphatic manner, "that every respect he paid to this warrior: he is my friend, and is at liberty to do just as he likes; let everything be given to him that he asks for."
The Indian warrior left the apartment.
"A noble nature!" cried Don Tadeo.
"Yes." said Don Ramón, "for a savage."
The King of Darkness was recalled to himself by the voice which thus mingled its harsh notes with his thoughts; his eyes fell upon the senator, whom he no longer thought of.
"Ah!" said he, "I had forgotten you, Don Ramón."
The latter bit his tongue and repented too late.
"Did you not tell me," Don Tadeo resumed, "that you would give a great deal to be at your hacienda?"
The senator shook his head affirmatively.
"I will offer you," Don Tadeo continued, "a chance of regaining the happiness you sigh for. You will set out immediately for Concepción. One would think you did not like the mission."
"I will go."
"That is well; a pleasant journey to you."
The senator asked—
"If the Araucanians surprise me, and get possession of this paper?"
"You will be shot—that's all," said Don Tadeo.
"Why, this is a trap!" the terrified senator exclaimed.
"You have but twenty minutes to make the preparations for your departure."
The senator seized the letter eagerly, and, without replying, rushed out of the room like a madman. Don Tadeo could not repress a smile at his extreme terror, and said to himself—
"Poor devil! he little suspects that I should be highly pleased if the Araucanians obtained the paper."
"Everything is ready," said Don Gregorio, entering.
"That is well. Let the troops be drawn up in two bodies just outside the city. Where is Joan?"
"I am here," the latter replied, coming forward.
"I wish to confide to my brother a mission of life and death."
"I will accomplish it, or die in the attempt."
"Deliver this necklace to the Spanish general, Fuentes, who commands in Concepción." Don Tadeo drew from his breast a dagger of a curious shape, the bronze knob of which served as a seal. "My brother will also take this dagger; on seeing it the general will know that Joan comes from me."
"Good," the warrior replied, taking the weapon.
"That weapon is poisoned—: the slightest scratch will inflict certain death."
"Oh—oh!" said the Indian, "that is indeed a good weapon! When shall I set out?"
"A horse shall be given to my brother, to whom I have only one more word to say: let him take care not to get killed; I would have him return to me."
"I shall come back again," said the Indian, confidently. "Farewell."
Don Tadeo and Don Gregorio left the cabildo. The orders of the King of Darkness had been executed with the greatest punctuality and promptitude. Two bodies of troops were drawn up; one, of nine hundred men, was charged with the attack on Arauca, the other, of nearly two thousand, under the immediate orders of Don Tadeo himself.
In addition to a numerous troop of cavalry, the Chilians took with them ten pieces of mountain artillery. The troops filed off at a quick step before the inhabitants, who saluted them with hearty shouts.
When they were about to separate, Don Tadeo took his friend aside.
"This evening, when you have established your camp for the night, Don Gregorio," he said, "you will give up the command to your lieutenant and rejoin me."
"That is understood; I thank you for the favour you confer upon me."
After a last shake of the hands the two leaders separated, to place themselves at the head of their respective troops, which were advancing rapidly into the plain.
General Bustamente had taken advantage of the sudden good-will that Antinahuel had shown towards him; so that two days after the events we have related the Araucanian army was strongly entrenched upon the Bio Bio. Antinahuel, like an experienced chief, had established his camp at the summit of a wooded hill. A screen of trees had been left to conceal the presence of the army. The various contingents had arrived in great haste at the rendezvous, and more came in every minute. The total force of the army was, at that moment, about nine thousand men. Black Stag, with a troop of chosen warriors, beat the country in all directions, in order to surprise the enemy's scouts.
Antinahuel had retired under his toldo with the Linda and Doña Rosario. She bore upon her pale countenance traces of the fatigues she had undergone. She stood, with downcast eyes, before the Toqui.
"My brother sees that I have kept my promise," said the Linda.
"Yes," the Toqui replied; "I thank my sister."
"My brother is a great warrior, he has but one word; before entering the territories of the Huincas, it will be as well to determine the fate of his prisoner."
"This young maiden is not my prisoner," Antinahuel remarked; "she shall be my wife."
"So be it," said the Linda, shrugging her shoulders.
"My sister is fatigued," said the chief. "A toldo is prepared for my sister; she shall repose a few hours."
"Chief," she replied, "my body feels no fatigue; I am strong. Your mosotones were very kind to me."
"Their chief had ordered them to do so," Antinahuel said, gallantly.
"I thank you for having given these orders."
"I love my sister," said the Toqui.
The young lady did not at all understand this blunt declaration of love.
"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, innocently, "you love me—you have pity on me."
"I will make every effort to make my sister happy."
"Oh! it would be so easy to do that, if you really wished it!" she cried.
"What must I do for that? I am ready to obey my sister."
"Is that really true?"
"Let my sister speak," said the chief.
"The tears of a poor girl can only render a great warrior like you sad!"
"That is truth," he remarked, mildly.
"Restore me to my friends!" she cried, in an excited manner.
Antinahuel drew back quite astounded, biting his lips with anger. The Linda burst into a loud laugh.
"You see," she said, "it is very easy for you to render her happy."
The chief knitted his brow still more ferociously.
"Come, brother," the Linda continued, "do not be angry; leave me to have a moment's chat with her."
"What to do?" the Toqui asked, impatiently.
"Caramba! why, to explain your intentions clearly to her."
"Well, then——"
"Only be so kind as to observe that in nowise will I answer for disposing her in your favour."
"Ah! To what purpose, then, will you talk?"
"I will undertake that, after our conversation, she shall know perfectly what she has to expect from you with regard to herself."
"My sister has a golden tongue—she will prevail."
"Hum! I do not think so; nevertheless I will try, in order to make myself agreeable," she added.
"Very well; and during that conversation I will visit the camp."
"Do so," said the Linda.
Antinahuel went out, after darting at the young girl a look which made her cast down her eyes. Left alone with Rosario, the Linda examined her for an instant with such an expression of malignant hatred, that the poor girl felt herself tremble. The sight of this woman produced upon her the strange effect attributed to the look of the serpent; she felt herself fascinated by the cold glance of the green eyes that were fixed upon her in a manner which she could not endure. After a few minutes the Linda said, in a cutting voice—
"Poor girl! Although you have been nearly a month a prisoner, can you at all divine what induced me to have carried you off?"
"I do not comprehend you, señora," the young lady replied, mildly; "your words are enigmas to me; I in vain endeavour to discover their meaning."
"Oh! poor, innocent thing!" the courtesan replied, with a mocking laugh; "and yet I fancy that on the night we were face to face at the village of San Miguel, I spoke to you pretty plainly."
"All it was possible for me to understand, señora, was, that you hate me."
"As the fact exists, of what importance is the reason? Yes, I hate you, insignificant thing! But I do not even know you! While avenging myself upon you, it is not you I hate; but the man who loves you; whose heart is broken at your tears! But the torments I reserve for you are nothing, if he is ignorant of them."
"God is just, señora," the maiden replied, firmly. "I do not know what crimes you meditate, but He will watch over me."
"God! miserable, puny creature!" cried the Linda. "God is but a word; He does not exist."
"He will not fail me, señora," Doña Rosario replied. "Beware! lest soon bowed by His powerful hand, you, in your turn, may implore His mercy in vain."
"Begone, miserable child; your threats only inspire me with contempt."
"I do not threaten, señora; I am an unfortunate young girl. I only endeavour to soften you."
"Vain are your prayers," she added; "when my hour comes I will ask for no more mercy than I have had for you."
"God pardon you the evil you wish to do."
For the second time the Linda experienced an indefinable emotion, of which she in vain sought to explain the cause; but she fortified herself against this secret presentiment which appeared to warn her that her vengeance would mislead herself.
"Listen!" she said, in a short, sharp tone; "it was I who had you carried off, as you are aware; but you know not for what purpose, do you? The man who has just left us, Antinahuel, the chief of the Araucanos, is a vile wretch! He has conceived a passion for you, an impure, monstrous passion. His mother wished to divert his mind from this passion, and he killed his mother."
"Oh!" the young girl exclaimed, penetrated with horror.
"You tremble, do you not?" the Linda continued; "that man is an abject being! He has no heart but for crime! He knows no laws but those which his passions and vices impose upon him! Well, this hideous being—this odious villain loves you; I tell you he is in love with you—do you understand me?"
"Oh, you cannot have sold me to this man!" the maiden shrieked in a state of stupefaction.
"I have," she replied, grinding her teeth; "and were it to be begun again, I would do it again! Oh, you do not know what happiness I experience in seeing you, a white dove, rolled in the mud."
"But have you no heart, señora?"
"No, I no longer have; it is long since it was tortured and broken by despair."
For a moment the maiden was overcome.
"Pity, señora!" she cried, in a piercing tone; "oh, you have said you had a heart once! You have loved! In the name of him you loved, have pity—pity for me."
"No, no pity, none was felt for me!" and she pushed her away.
"Señora! in the name of one you have loved, pity."
"I love nothing now but vengeance!" she cried; "it is good to hate; a woman forgets her insults through it."
Doña Rosario did not hear these frightful words; a prey to despair, she continued to weep and supplicate; but the word child struck her ear; a light flashed across her brain.
"Oh, señora!" she cried, "I knew you were good, and that I should succeed in softening you!"
"What does this folly mean?" said the Linda.
"Señora!" Rosario implored, "you have had children! you have loved them! oh, loved them dearly!"
"Silence, unhappy wretch!" cried the Linda; "silence; speak not to me of my daughter!"
"Yes," Rosario continued, "that is it; it was a daughter. Oh, you adored her, señora!"
"Adored my daughter!" cried the Linda, with the roar of a hyena.
"In the name of that beloved daughter, pity!"
The Linda broke suddenly into a frantic laugh. "Miserable fool! what a remembrance have you evoked!—It is to avenge my daughter! my daughter! who was stolen from me, that I wish to make of you the most unhappy of creatures."
Doña Rosario remained for an instant as if struck by a thunderbolt, but looking the courtesan full in the face, said—
"Señora, you have no heart—be then accursed. As to me, I shall be taught how to extricate myself from the outrages you vainly threaten me with."
And, with a movement as quick as thought, she snatched from the girdle of the Linda a narrow, sharp-pointed dagger.
The Linda sprang towards her.
"Stop, señora," the maiden said to her, resolutely; "one step farther, and I stab myself! Oh, I no longer fear you!"
Doña Rosarios look was so firm, her countenance so determined, that the Linda stopped.
"Well," Rosario resumed, with a smile of contempt, "you no longer triumph now; you are no longer certain of your vengeance; let the man you threaten me with dare to approach me, and I will plunge this dagger into my heart."
The Linda looked at her, but made no reply; she was conquered.
At that moment a great tumult was heard in the camp; hurried steps approached the toldo in which the two women were. The Linda resumed her seat, and composed her features. Doña Rosario, with a joyful smile, concealed the dagger.
In the meantime Don Ramón had left Valdivia. This time the senator was alone—alone with his horse, a poor, lean, half-foundered beast, which hobbled along with its head and ears down, and appeared in all points to harmonise with the sad thoughts which doubtless occupied its master's mind.
The future by no means appeared to him pleasant. He had left Valdivia under a threat of death; at every step he expected to be aimed at by some invisible gun. Being conscious that he could not impose upon the enemies, doubtless disseminated over his route, by any appearance of strength or power, he determined to impose upon them by his weakness—that is to say, he got rid of all his arms. At a few leagues distance from Valdivia he had been passed by Joan. Don Ramón watched him for a long time with a look of envy.
"What happy fellows these Indians are!" he grumbled; "the desert belongs to them. Ah!" he added, with a sigh; "if I were but at Casa Azul."
Casa Azul was the senator's quinta—that quinta with white walls, green blinds, and leafy bowers, which he so much regretted having left in a moment of silly ambition, and which he never hoped to see again. When he passed by a wood, or along a narrow way between two mountains, he cast terrified glances around him, and entered the suspicious passage, murmuring—
"This is where they are waiting for me!"
And when the wood was passed, and the dangerous lane cleared, instead of felicitating himself upon being still safe and sound, he said, with a shake of the head—
"Hum! the Pícaros! they know very well I cannot escape them, and they are playing with me as a cat does with a mouse."
And yet two days had passed away without a mishap, nothing had occurred to corroborate the senator's suspicions and uneasiness. He had that morning crossed the ford of the Carampangne, and was drawing near to the Bio Bio which he hoped to reach by sunset.
But the Bio Bio had to be crossed, and there lay the difficulty. The river has but one ford, a little above Concepción. The senator knew it perfectly well but a secret presentiment told him not to approach it. Unfortunately Don Ramón had no choice, he could take no other road.
The senator hesitated as long as Cæsar did at the famous passage of the Rubicon; at length, as there were no means of doing otherwise, Don Ramón very unwillingly spurred on his horse, and advanced towards the ford, recommending himself to the protection of all the saints of the Spanish golden legend.
The horse was tired, but the smell of the water renovated its strength, and it cantered gaily on with the infallible instinct of these noble beasts, without pausing in the inextricable windings which crossed each other in the high grass. Although the river was not yet visible, Don Ramón could hear the roaring of the waters. He was passing by, at the moment, a dark hill, from the thickly-wooded sides of which proceeded, at intervals, sounds which he could not make out. The animal too, as much alarmed as its master, pricked up its ears and redoubled its speed. Don Ramón scarcely ventured to breathe, and looked in all directions with the greatest terror. He was close to the ford, when suddenly a rough voice smote his ear and rendered him as motionless as if he had been changed into a block of marble. Half a score Indian warriors surrounded him on all sides; these warriors were commanded by Black Stag.
It was a strange circumstance, but when the first moment of terror was past, the senator completely recovered himself—now that he knew what he had to trust to, the danger which he had so long dreaded was before him, but less terrific than he had supposed it to be. Black Stag examined him carefully, and at length placed his hand upon the bridle of his horse, saying, as he endeavoured to recall a half-effaced remembrance—
"It seems to me that I have seen the paleface somewhere?"
"To be sure," the senator replied; "we are old friends."
"I am not the friend of the Huincas," the Indian said, sternly.
"I mean," Don Ramón corrected himself, "we are old acquaintances."
"Good! what is the Chiapla doing here?"
"Hum!" the senator said; "I am doing nothing."
"Let the paleface reply clearly; a chief is questioning him," Black Stag said, frowning.
"I ask no better," Don Ramón replied, in a conciliating tone. "Question me."
"Where is the paleface going?"
"Where am I going? When you stopped me I was preparing to cross the Bio Bio."
"Good! And when you had crossed the Bio Bio?"
"Oh, then I should have hastened to gain my quinta, which I am very sorry I ever quitted."
"Doubtless the paleface is charged with some mission?"
"Who, I?" said the senator, in the most careless way possible; "Who do you think would charge me with a mission?"
"Good! Where is the necklace?"
"What necklace do you mean?"
"The one which you have to deliver to the chief of Concepción."
"Who! I?"
"Yes, you."
"I have none."
"My brother speaks well: Aucas warriors are not women, they know how to discover what is hidden."
Any resistance was impossible, and if it had not been, Don Ramón was not the man to have attempted it; hence he obeyed, and his horse was led away.
"The paleface will follow me," Black Stag commanded.
"Hum!" said Don Ramón, "where are you going?"
"To the Toqui and the Great Eagle of the Whites."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" said Don Ramón to himself.
The warriors led their prisoner among the coppice. After a short ascent they arrived at the camp. General Bustamente and Antinahuel were conversing as they walked about.
"What have you there?" asked the general.
"A prisoner," Black Stag replied.
"Eh, what!" said the general, "it is my honourable friend, Don Ramón!"
"Yes—worse luck—"
"How can that be? Were you not seeking me?"
"God forbid!" the senator cried.
"Look there, now; why, then, where were you going alone thus?"
"I was going to my own home."
The general and Antinahuel exchanged a few words.
"Come with us, Don Ramón," the general rejoined, "the Toqui wishes to have some conversation."
"With pleasure," said Don Ramón; and cursing his evil star he followed the two men into the toldo.
The warriors who had brought the senator remained without, to execute the orders they might receive.
"You said," the general continued, as soon as they were in the toldo, "that you were going home at Casa Azul."
"Yes, general."
"Why that sigh? nothing that I am aware of will be opposed to the continuation of your journey."
"Do you mean that?" the senator exclaimed.
"Hum! that depends entirely upon yourself."
"How so?"
"Deliver up to the Toqui the order which Don Tadeo de León has charged you."
"What order do you mean, general?"
"Why, the one you probably have."
"You are mistaken, general; I am not charged with any mission to General Fuentes, I am sure."
"And yet the Toqui asserts the contrary."
"This man lies; he must have a necklace," said Antinahuel.
"It is very easy to ascertain that." said the general, coolly. "Black Stag, my friend, please to have this caballero suspended by the thumbs to the next tree."
The senator shuddered.
"I beg you to observe," the general continued, "that we do not commit the rudeness of searching you."
"But I assure you I have no order."
"Bah! and I am certain you will find one—there is nothing like being suspended by the thumbs."
"Come," said Black Stag.
The senator bounded away from him with fear.
"Well, I think I recollect——" he stammered.
"There, you see."
"That I am the bearer of a letter."
"Just as I said you were."
"But I am ignorant of its contents."
"Caramba! that is very likely."
"Well, to General Fuentes, I suppose. But if I give you up the paper shall I be free?" he asked.
"Hum! the position is changed. If you had given it up with a good grace I could have guaranteed your freedom."
"Still!"
"Come, give it to me."
"Here it is," said the senator, drawing it from his bosom.
The general took the paper, ran his eye rapidly over it, then drawing Antinahuel to the other extremity of the toldo, they talked together for some minutes in a low voice. At length the general turned towards the senator.