FOOTNOTE:[43]Since the time of the Spaniards, these turrets oralmenasdenoted the house of a nobleman.
[43]Since the time of the Spaniards, these turrets oralmenasdenoted the house of a nobleman.
[43]Since the time of the Spaniards, these turrets oralmenasdenoted the house of a nobleman.
Departure of the Convoy.—Victoriano, the Muleteer.—His sudden Disappearance.—The Convoy is attacked by Robbers.
I purposed leaving Mexico now that order appeared established and commerce had returned to its wonted channels. I learned that the conducta was already in motion. I still held by my purpose of making part of the escort under the command of the Lieutenant Don Blas; and on the morning after a day spent in taking leave of my friends, I traversed the streets of Mexico for the last time, attended by my valet Cecilio.
Upon reaching the open country, the joy that had taken possession of me at the idea of my speedy return to Europe was slightly tinged by a vague feeling of sadness. Mexico is still surrounded with lakes as in the time of the Conquest; but the appearance of these still waters, traversed by a magnificent road, has been completely changed. The time is gone by when they bore on their bosom the brigantines of Cortez and the pirogues of the ancient inhabitants. Partly lessened by evaporation and partly by drainage, the lakes of Mexico preserve nothing of their former splendor. The distant report of some sportsman's gun, and the wild songs of the Indians, whose pirogues may sometimes be seen making their way through the bending reeds, at rare intervals break the mournful silence which broods over the fields in their vicinity. Somewhite aigrets—sitting motionless on the surface of the water—white as the flowers of the water-lily, a few water-hens, wild ducks, and huge reptiles which shake the aquatic plants as they pass, and here and there an Indian angler standing up to the middle of his legs in water, are the only living beings to be seen in these solitudes. The heavens and the mountains are alone unchanged; and the same volcanoes, their tops covered with eternal snow, still shoot up aloft into the air as they did three hundred years before.
Having arrived at Buena Vista, which commands a view of the whole valley of Mexico, I stopped to take a last look of the beautiful plain at my feet. In the midst of a belt of blue hills and small villages, whose white houses contrasted beautifully with the green of the willows, the lakes assumed, owing to the distance, something of their ancient glory. Mexico seemed still the city of the New World. I stopped for a moment to contemplate the distant domes with a feeling of involuntary dejection. I looked for the last time upon a city to which I had come with all the curiosity and enthusiasm peculiar to youth. Mexico was my halting-place when I returned from my excursions in the country round. It was like a second country to me; for, if infancy has its souvenirs dear to that state of childhood, youth can not forget the place where the flower of adolescence has shot up, and withered, alas! too soon. I looked again at this fertile valley, where smiles an eternal spring; and, to escape from the sadness which possessed me, put my horse to the gallop, and the lofty towers of that city which I was never more to behold were soon quickly lost to my view.
After passing a night at the venta of Cordova, my road lay through the woods of Rio Trio, so notoriousfor the robberies committed there in broad daylight, and the smiling plains of San Martin, which strongly remind one of those of the Bajio. The snowy peaks of the volcanoes in the vicinity of Mexico were lighted up by the last rays of a sun that sparkled like an expiring beacon-fire when I rode into Puebla. The conducta had passed through that town the same evening. Puebla, the lofty towers of its convents, churches, and cupolas all covered with enameled tiling, looks at a distance like an Oriental town overtopped with minarets. I halted a short time to rest myself, and on the third day after my departure from Mexico descried from a distance the red pennons of the lancers who escorted the convoy.
In the first cavalier to whom I addressed myself after overtaking the escort I could scarcely recognize the asistente of Don Blas. The desires of this worthy lépero on becoming a soldier had been completely satisfied, for, except that he had only a bottine on one foot, a shoe on the other, and no straps to his trowsers, his cavalry uniform left him nothing to desire. In consonance, also, with military discipline, he had parted with his hair.
"Tell me, friend," said I, accosting him, "are you still in the service of Lieutenant Don Blas?"
"Captain Don Blas, if you please—for he has been promised this rank as a reward for his heroic conduct on your azotea; and I have got my stripes also now. I am his servant no longer. He is a captain in a regiment of lancers. You see a detachment of them here."
I proceeded onward, and, in spite of his new uniform, had little difficulty in recognizing Don Blas. The captain was riding gloomily at the head of his troop. I congratulated him on his promotion, andinquired about his wound. He reddened slightly when he told me it had quite healed, and hurriedly asked me if I had counted the cost of traveling with him. I assured him it was my unalterable intention to accompany the convoy to Vera Cruz. Don Bias affected much joy at my resolution, after which the conversation fell quite naturally upon the dangers of the road, the mishaps of which I thought I should escape in his company. The captain shook his head.
"I am not so sure of that," said he. "I fear that you are jumping from the frying-pan into the fire, for the late troubles have increased the number ofguerillas.[44]And folks say that we shall probably have a hard fight with the highwaymen in the gorges of the Amozoque. The time is gone by when, under a certain viceroy, the standard of Castile, floating above a silver caravan, was sufficient to protect it in its passage."
"I hope," I replied, "that the troop of lancers under your command will make up for the want of the Spanish flag."
"God grant it!" returned Don Blas. "Although I am not blind to the dangers we shall have to run, I shall do my duty in every case."
The long file of richly-laden mules, each having a burden of five thousand dollars in coined money, over every one of which the guardians of the convoy kept an incessant watch, was, in fact, a prize worth striking a blow for. The road to Mexico presents the most striking scenes incident to beauty in landscape, but the thick woods, the deep gorges, and the narrow defiles which we had to traverse might be swarming with robbers. I had scarcely passed a few hours amongmy new companions ere I began to feel the want of some amusement to dissipate the ennui attendant upon a slow and monotonous march through a desert country. The captain was assuredly a merry companion, but his jokes were trite and commonplace. The stories and songs of a muleteer who took the lead in that kind of entertainment in our little troop were infinitely more agreeable to me. He was a man of about thirty years of age, called Victoriano. He had traveled this road for several years, and had a story for every halting-place. In the evening, under a starry sky, when the mules, relieved from their burdens, munched their maize under themantaswhich served them for a rack; when round the bivouac fires the sentinels mounted guard over the treasure committed to their care, and the other soldiers slept upon their arms, the captain and I always had a new pleasure in listening to Victoriano, whose unflagging spirit found vent in pleasant stories, or in songs accompanied by the mandolin.
I pitied then the travelers I saw whirled along in the diligence like a flash of lightning, their horses galloping at the top of their speed, while the passengers very likely would be pointing us out to their friends as the only remnant existing of the old Mexican manners. A few more vices, I said to myself, and a few less charms, are the only results of this parody of civilization, which, up to the present time, has destroyed every thing and constructed nothing. On these evenings, round our watch-fire, living at once the life of a muleteer and that of a soldier, I still experienced without alloy, even though on my way to Europe, the feelings incident to life in the Eastern deserts.
Since our departure from Puebla, Acajete, the hacienda of San Juan, Tepeaca, and Santa Gertrudis (forwe had deviated from the ordinary route) had been so many resting-places, marked by a certain quiet in which the fatigue of the body is transferred to the mind, and which seems to prove that the happiness of a man consists in physical motion as much as in thought. We had just passed the town and fort of Perote. "Señor Cavalier," said Victoriano to me, "you ought to go to see the fort. I can easily accompany you to the gate, and, upon my recommendation, you will be admitted without difficulty. You can rejoin us afterward at Cruz Blanca, a little village about two leagues from here, where we shall pass the night, and on your return I shall tell you a story about it which made a great noise some years ago."
I took the advice of the muleteer, who, according to promise, introduced me into the fort, the interior of which I ran over at my pleasure in the company of an officer, who was glad to attend me in the capacity of guide. I was about an hour in the place, and, as the sun was beginning to set, galloped at full speed to join the convoy.
I passed over one of those arid and desolate plains, bristling with volcanic scoriæ, known by the name ofmal pais, upon which a scanty layer of earth allows only a few stunted plants to grow. The wind, blowing in sudden gusts, seemed to moan as it struck the sonorous leaves of the nopal and the clumps of juniper. The wolves also began to howl frequently, and the fog which was falling was so dense and cold that I thought I was long in reaching the watch-fire at which I expected Victoriano to fulfill his promise. However, the fear of losing my way in the fog, which hid the horizon, joined to the roughness of the ground, forced me to slacken my pace, and night had fallenbefore I arrived at our halting-place—Cruz Blanca. In the small number of houses which composed the village, it was not difficult to find where the conducta had stopped. To my great astonishment, I learned that Victoriano had not made his appearance. This circumstance had alarmed every body. Some accident of a serious nature must have happened to prevent a man, whose habitual punctuality was well known, from rejoining the cavalcade, and every one was lost in conjectures as to his absence, when a stranger presented himself, and requested to speak with the chief arriero. The new-comer was dressed in a well-worn stable-coat, and an apron such as is generally worn by mule conductors. He told us that Victoriano, whose horse had come down, had been much injured by the fall, and that they had conveyed him to Perote, where the utmost care would be taken of him. The unknown added that it was by his express desire that he had come to supply his place till he should be in a fit state to rejoin the convoy. The chief arriero, who had only the number of men strictly necessary, accepted his offer perhaps a little too inconsiderately. The new-comer was a stout fellow of about the same age as Victoriano, but the sinister expression of his countenance did not inspire me with the same feeling of confidence as the arriero.
The next morning we resumed our march, intending to pass the night at Hoya, a little village about five leagues from Cruz Blanca. The journey, though slow as ever, seemed more fatiguing, as Victoriano was not there to enliven it with his stories. Every thing seemed to go wrong after his departure. On arriving at Barranca Honda, about a league from where we had started in the morning, a mule cast its shoe, then asecond, and afterward a third. Very long halts were necessary for re-shoeing the animals. Victoriano's substitute acquitted himself as a farrier with great zeal and intelligence, to the great delight of the arriero, who continued, however, to discharge as many oaths as there were saints in the calendar. For my part, I must say that I could not look upon our new companion with the same satisfaction as the muleteer.
"Does it not seem to you," said I to Don Blas, "that this fellow, who shoes the mules so cleverly, might not show an equal address in unshoeing them?"
The captain looked on my suspicions as ridiculous. "I am perfectly disinterested in the matter," I replied, "for, fortunately, none of the precious boxes belong to me; but I can't help regretting the absence of Victoriano."
The convoy put itself again in motion. Still, although it was necessary that the pace should be quickened, the mules appeared to have lost all their former energy, as if some enervating drug had been mixed with their food. Just when we were passing through Las Vigas, the arriero held a sort of conference with the chief of the escort. The former advised that we should pass the night in the village; Don Blas, however, thought it would be better to push on to Hoya, alleging that a delay in a convoy so soon expected in Vera Cruz, especially when the stages in advance were well known, would tend to spread a prejudicial uneasiness. Unluckily for the muleteer, this advice prevailed, and we resolved to push on to Hoya.
There is, perhaps, no part of Mexico in which the difference between the temperature of the plains and that of the more elevated regions is more keenly felt than in the approaches to the Vigas. A few secondsbefore reaching the village, you were in an instant transported into the vegetation peculiar to cold climates. There the warm breeze and blue heavens were gone, and in their stead a cold north wind blew sharply through the icy vapor which floated around us. Our eyes met only a dull sky, and an arid soil torn up and thickly covered with volcanic boulders. The fog, which at first crept along the surface of the ground, and rolled about in volumes like dust under the feet of our horses, was not long in mounting aloft, and hiding from our view the tops of the tall pines. We could scarcely distinguish one another in the dense mist which the icy wind was driving right in our faces. Deep ravines ran parallel with the road, which was of volcanic formation, and it was a difficult matter to prevent the mules from straggling in a path so hard to follow. I could not help admiring the calmness of Don Blas, the great importance of whose trust absolutely frightened me. As for the arriero, he was in great perplexity, and he galloped incessantly up and down the whole length of the convoy, the sparks flying from his mule's feet at every stroke. The poor man inspired me with a lively interest, for every thing he had in life was at stake; an immense responsibility rested upon him, and he counted and recounted his mules every minute with an anxiety painful to behold. When night had fully come on, Don Blas divided his escort into two bodies. With one he rode at the head of the convoy, and left the other under the charge of Juanito, his ex-asistente. The march was gloomy and silent, the chief noise heard being the tinkle of the bell of the leading mule, the songs of the soldiers, and the clattering of the mules' feet on the stony road. Riding alone on the flank of the convoy, I passedthrough my mind the various incidents of the morning; the disappearance of our favorite, the unshoeing of the mules, and the dull listlessness with which they now marched, appeared to me, in the midst of the fog which enveloped us, alarming in the highest degree. At the very moment I was asking myself if some treachery was not at work around us, I was joined by my valet Cecilio.
"Señor," said Cecilio, in a low voice, "if you will believe me, we ought not to stay here a moment longer. Something strange is going to happen."
"And where are we to go," said I, "when we can not see two paces before us among these rocks and ravines? But what is the matter?"
"The matter is, señor, that Victoriano has just slipped in among us, and perhaps I am the only one that has remarked his presence; but his coming bodes no good. The story of his accident appears to be only a falsehood."
"Are you sure of it?"
"Yes, quite; but that is not all. About a quarter of an hour ago, I was in the rear, as I have been generally all the march, owing to this confounded beast of mine, when two mounted cavaliers passed without seeing me, as I was concealed behind a mass of rock. One of them bestrode a magnificent black horse, and was otherwise too well equipped for a peaceable traveler."
"A magnificent black horse?" I said, interrupting him, thinking of the ranchero in Mexico who had looked so coolly on the departure of the convoy.
"The other," continued Cecilio, "rode a mule, and had the costume of a muleteer; and, if I rightly understood what they said, Victoriano must be an accomplice."
"And what became of the horsemen?"
"I have no doubt that, under cover of the darkness, they mingled with the escort. It is easy to guess why; and, probably, they are not alone, for these ravines could conceal an entirecuadrilla(band). If your lordship will be guided by me, we shall let the convoy go on without us."
"Not at all," I answered; "I must go and tell the captain."
"And who told you, señor, that the captain is not also an accomplice?"
I made no answer. It was not the time for discussion, but for acting. Without considering whether Cecilio's suspicions of Don Blas were well or ill founded, I spurred my horse to warn at least the chief arriero. With some trouble I made up to the rear guard, passed it and some of the mules, the others still forming a long line in front. In the midst of the fog I was guided by the clank of their hoofs on the rocky ground. At last I distinguished the tinkling of the leading mule a few hundred yards in advance. At the same moment I fancied I recognized in the cavalier by my side the sinister countenance of Victoriano's substitute. Some seconds after, the voice of a muleteer rose in the darkness.
"What's the meaning of this?" cried he. "Halloo! Victoriano, is that you? It is, by heavens! and by what chance?"
There was no reply, and the question was not repeated. I shuddered. I thought I heard a stifled cry, followed by a heavy fall. I listened again attentively, but the only sounds were the whistling of the wind, and the echo of the mules' feet upon the stony road. A few seconds after my horse shiedviolently, as if he had distinguished in the darkness something that had alarmed him. Desirous of clearing up the terrible doubts that harassed my mind, I took out my tinder and steel as if to light a cigar, and to warm me by the exercise it afforded. I fancied for a moment that I was the sport of a dream. By the momentary light it sent forth, I thought I saw some strange figures marching along with the soldiers of our escort and the muleteers. Silent phantoms seemed to have glided mysteriously out of the darkness, and were traveling along with us, some clad in lancers' uniform, others wearing the striped frocks of the muleteers. All at once the bell of the leading mule ceased to sound; in a few seconds it recommenced, but in quite a different direction, and similar sounds issued from the ravines on the left of the road. I had seen enough—nay, too much; treachery surrounded us on every side. But what could one do in the midst of a thick fog, and on a road bordered by ravines? How could one distinguish friends from foes in the deep gloom? Astonished and disconcerted, I stopped my horse; then, at the risk of breaking my neck in the darkness, I galloped to the front of the convoy; it was now too late. A cord whistled over my head and encircled me; my horse made a bound forward; but, instead of being dragged from my saddle, and thrown under the animal's feet as I expected, I felt myself bound to my horse with a terrible tightness. The noose intended for me alone had also enlaced him. My right arm was so tightly bound to my body that I could not disengage myself sufficiently to allow me to draw my knife from my boot to cut the lasso. I dug my spurs into my horse's flanks. The noble animal neighed, and tore forward with irresistible vigor. I felt thelasso tighten till it almost cut me, then suddenly slack. A snap of broken girths, an imprecation of rage, and all at once I found myself free, almost before I could fully realize the danger I had escaped. A vigorous bound of my horse almost unseated me. I kept my saddle, however, and galloped furiously on. Some shots were heard, and a ball whistled close to my ears; at the same moment, cries of alarm arose in the darkness. The repercussion of the firing was fearful, and the confusion indescribable. The mules, deceived by the bells which rang in various directions, ran against each other, and jostled one another in the darkness. The flashes of the fire-arms tore through the fog, and the reports died away among the rocks. By the glare of the musketry you could see the lancers, in their red uniforms, huddled together in confusion, and firing away at random in the thick darkness; the balls went whistling through the air, and the cries of despair of the muleteer were heard distinctly above the din of the tumult.
My frightened horse had carried me far from the scene of combat. I pulled him in immediately and returned. When I rejoined the convoy the contest was over and the bandits had disappeared. Don Blas, who had kept himself very cool during the whole affair, grasped me silently by the hand. I had no time to question him, for a man threw himself between us, a torch in his hand, imploring the captain's assistance. By its light I recognized the discomposed features of the poor muleteer. Some of the soldiers, dismounting, cut branches off the fir-trees and lighted them. We could then survey the sad spectacle which met our eyes. The mozos, among whom Victoriano's substitute was no longer to be seen, watched the pooranimals that were standing in groups round the leading mule, whose bell had disappeared. Several mules were bleeding from large wounds: two soldiers, very likely hit by the balls of their comrades, were bandaging their legs with their pocket-handkerchiefs. In a shallow ravine, which the torches reddened with a melancholy glow, a poor muleteer lay writhing in the death agony. This was the man who had recognized Victoriano; he had expiated the fault of having seen too well. The arriero, torch in hand, walked from one mule to another, tearing his hair the while, and wiping off the sweat, which, in spite of the coldness of the night, dropped profusely from his face. "I am lost—ruined!" cried the poor devil, who appeared scarcely to have sufficient courage to ascertain his precise loss with exactness. He commenced, however. Don Blas, who seemed very pale even by the reddish glare of the torches, sat motionless in his saddle. I scrutinized his features as I thought over Cecilio's words, but nothing in his countenance betrayed the painful emotion of a man who, by negligence or misfortune, had failed in the execution of his duty.
"Don't you think," said I to him, "that it would be no bad thing to pursue the robbers who have carried off their booty, and who are every moment increasing their distance from us?"
Don Blas seemed to wake out of his reverie.
"Doubtless," he cried, roughly; "but who told you that they have carried off any thing?"
"Heaven help this poor man!" said I, pointing to the muleteer, who uttered a doleful cry.
"May God pity me!" cried he, "for I shall never survive it. Five, Señor Captain! five are gone!" he continued, in a choking voice. "I have lost in onenight the fruit of twenty years' toil! Ah! Señor Don Blas, by the life of your mother, try to recover them for me; the half shall be yours. Ah! why did you advise me to proceed to-night? Why did I listen to you?"
And the poor muleteer, dashing his torch upon the road, rolled in the dust.
The captain being thus forced to make some reparation for the misfortune which he had either ignorantly or designedly caused, picked out a dozen of his best-mounted horsemen, ordered them to cut some pine branches to serve for torches, and to commence the pursuit without delay. I did not anticipate any very successful issue to the expedition, although I had been the first to advise him to it. Persuaded, however, that, though there was little chance of success, there was little risk to be run; desirous, besides, to witness the wonderful sagacity of the Mexicans in following even the faintest traces, I insisted upon accompanying Don Blas and his band. The captain agreed without much difficulty, and we set out immediately for Hoya.
FOOTNOTE:[44]Bands of robbers.
[44]Bands of robbers.
[44]Bands of robbers.
Don Tomas Verduzco is shot by Juanito.—Death of Captain Don Blas.
It was a difficult enterprise on which we had entered. Darkness masked the march of the robbers, whose trail it would be almost impossible to follow unless during daylight, as it led over a volcanic soil. We were certain that the stolen mules had not been taken in the direction of Perote. From the place where we now were, the lights in the village of Hoya were easilydiscernible even through the dense fog which stretched all round us. The news of our disaster could not be long in reaching that place, and the presumption was that the robbers were not to be sought for in that direction. The ground on the left side of the road was impracticable in the darkness, from the large number of sloughs and ravines which seamed its surface. There was no doubt but that the bandits had gained the woody heights on the right which overhung the road, and that the pursuit must be begun in that quarter. A soldier remarked that the light of our torches would betray our presence. We were ignorant of the number of our enemies, who could very easily see us from the lights we carried, and prudence prompted us to hide our motions in darkness. By the captain's order we extinguished the flambeaux, not, however, without casting a glance over the ground we were going to traverse. A steep path led to the crest of a ridge that overhung the road. Three of us, of whom I was one, remained to point out this particular spot. The rest were sent to explore the different paths which were to be met with more in advance. We waited in all stillness the return of the exploring party. Thus passed some minutes. The winds, sighing through the pines which formed a gloomy arch above the hollow road at whose mouth we were stationed, shook upon our heads the condensed mists which fell drop by drop from their sloping branches. At the end of half an hour the horsemen returned. They had seen nothing, but they were certain that no other path than the one on which we were posted led to the high road. If we followed it, we would be sure of hitting the right trail. The soldiers, animated by the hope of a rich reward, were as desirous to begin the pursuit as a pack of dogs tohunt a stag. The captain alone seemed to have no heart for the work, and the orders he gave betrayed a considerable amount of indecision. We began our march, however. Unfortunately, the darkness of the night made our progress very slow. At times, and during a short halt, one of the horsemen alighted and applied his ear to the ground, but not a sound was heard but the sighing of the wind. The rocky ground, carefully examined by the light of a cigar, seemed incapable of bearing even the slightest impress. Guided, however, by an inexplicable instinct, the soldiers did not appear to doubt but that the robbers had passed that way. The gravel soon ceased to crunch beneath our tread; we were now on softer ground. We had at last some chance of discovering the trace of the men or animals which had followed that road. Half of us alighted, and by the light of our cigars, or sparks from flint and steel, began examining with the utmost minuteness every bit of moss or bare earth on the path. Tracks crossed one another in every direction; and at the end of a few minutes, a soldier uttered a cry of joy, and pointed out to us the distinct impress of the two feet of a mule. One of the marks showed that the animal had been newly shod, from the deeper dent made in the soft ground. This was, assuredly, the traces of one of the mules of the convoy that we had been forced to shoe that very morning. At this time we were marching only at random, and our delight at this discovery was intense. The trail was followed till it conducted us to a vast open clearing, a sort of square, from which several paths struck off similar to the one we had followed. There we were completely at fault.
A considerable time had now elapsed since webegan our search. The captain, in order to husband our horses' strength in case a new and longer pursuit would be required, ordered a halt. The different paths, which crossed one another in such confusion, could not, he said, be properly examined unless by daylight. The men began to murmur at this unexpected check; but obedience was necessary, and they all alighted. Some large fires were kindled, more for warmth against the freezing cold of the night, and to guard against a sudden surprise, than for the light they afforded. As I took no great interest in the search, I joyfully welcomed the opportunity I had of warming myself at a good fire, and of taking some repose, of which I stood in great need.
After a few minutes' talk, all was silent. The clearing in which we were bivouacked was illuminated throughout its whole extent by the light of our fires. Nothing was heard but the rapid and measured step of the two sentinels we had posted. Several hours rolled away; our fires were just dying out, and day could not be far off, when a cracking of broken branches was heard at some distance. One of our sentinels, his carbine in one hand and a torch in the other, advanced to the place whence the noise proceeded, and soon reappeared leading a mule, which, from its color, and the pack-saddle on his back, was easily recognized as one of those that had been stolen from the convoy. His broken bridle showed that, after having been deprived of his precious burden, they had tied him up in a thicket to prevent our finding him, and that the poor beast had only been able to gain our encampment by breaking his tether. Every body was soon on foot. The woods, perviated every where with paths, unhappily afforded us no new traces, and we much fearedthat the robbers had divided their plunder, and gone off in a different direction. This thought, which discouraged us so much, produced quite a different effect upon the captain. Up to this time Don Blas had seemed to take no interest in the pursuit, but now he flew into a violent passion, and uttered the most violent menaces against the bandits, whose daring had caused us to lose so much.
"Ah!" cried he, "if chance but throws any of them into my hands, I shall shoot them without benefit of clergy."
Speaking thus, Don Blas walked backward and forward, hitting the ferns which branched out above us with his sabre.
"Whom will you shoot?" I asked.
"Whom?" replied the captain; "why, the first man that happens to fall into my hands."
"That will be a right which it may be difficult to exercise, for robbers on the high road have generally long arms."
"That's my concern," answered Don Blas, with a strange smile; "I will find the means to have the law on my side."
The captain immediately gave the word to mount. The soldiers, delighted at the prospect of regaining their lost time, welcomed the order with acclamation. I must confess that I could not account for this sudden change in the conduct of Don Blas. Why so much zeal after so much coldness? I pleased myself by thinking that hitherto it had been only in appearance, and that the captain had shown so much apathy at first for the sake of propriety, that it might not be thought he was actuated by too lively a desire to gain the reward promised by the arriero.
One of the three paths which led out of the clearing was so narrow, and so little frequented, judging by the appearance of the ground, that, according to all appearance, it could not lead to any inhabited place. The other two were deeply marked with the footprints of men and animals. They would very likely lead to some hacienda, or rancho at least. According to the conjectures of the soldiers, the least trodden of the three paths was that which most probably the robbers had taken. Opinion being divided on that point, the captain ordered us to separate into two parties, and each, taking a particular path, to explore it to the utmost, and two hours after nightfall to rejoin one another in the clearing. Don Blas placed himself at the head of one of these detachments, the other was under the command of Juanito. As for myself, I followed Don Blas, although he did every thing he could to dissuade me from doing so, but I had an instinctive notion that he would not be the man to prefer the most dangerous road. The path we had taken led us toward a wide plain. We soon arrived at an open square in the wood whence several roads diverged. This was a new embarrassment. Our band, however, proceeded in pairs to explore each of these ramifications.
"If this continue," I said to Don Blas, "we shall soon be completely separated from one another, and be liable to be pursued in our turn by those whom we are pursuing."
Still Don Blas did not think that any danger was to be apprehended by this division of our forces. He forthwith proceeded to reconnoitre one of these roads, and I accompanied him. However, when we had proceeded some distance from our companions, his ardorseemed suddenly to cool. He stopped his horse, which was before mine, and proceeded to expatiate upon the beauty of the landscape with the cool indifference of a dissatisfied tourist. The sun had dissipated the mist which had till now enwrapped us. The sky was clear and without a cloud, and a pleasant warmth soon made us forget the sharp and piercing cold of the preceding night. A slight perfume of guava, that the wind wafted along at intervals, was now and then mixed with the sharp and pungent odor of the pines. This was like a harbinger of the beautiful azure sky of the hot regions, and the magnificence of their luxuriant vegetation. We were now separated from the first of our party by several miles.
"I should like to know," said Don Blas to me, after a short silence, "how far the audacity of these brigands would go."
"That is very clear, it seems to me," I replied, "and, since yesterday evening, facts show very strongly how much they are capable of doing."
We had not proceeded far till we met with evidence which proved to us that we were now on the trail of the robbers. Don Blas, seeing some pieces of wood lying on the ground, alighted and picked them up. It was the remains of one of the little boxes in which the sacks of piastres had been packed. He then begged me, in spite of my entreaties, to remain where I was; and, wheeling his horse about, set off at full speed. A turn in the road soon hid him from my view, and I remained alone, without being able to explain the reason of his singular conduct. A painful suspicion, which I had been trying to drive from my mind for some time, now recurred to me with redoubled force. Had Don Blas really any connivance with those robbers,whose presence he wished to seek without a witness? Suddenly a distant shot was heard, which roused me from my reflections. I thought I heard likewise a feeble cry of alarm and distress. I listened, but every thing was calm and silent round me. Prudence urged me to retrace my steps. The captain might be killed; if still alive, dangerously wounded. In these two cases I could be of no assistance; but I resolved to return to procure help. Having come to the place where Don Blas and I had separated from our companions some time before, I discharged my two pistols in succession. I soon had the satisfaction of being rejoined by two of our men, whom I informed in a few words of what had passed.
"The brigands!" cried Juanito; "they are capable of killing my captain for his gold epaulets;" and, to prevent a proceeding so prejudicial to his interests, the sergeant set off at a gallop. The lancers imitated his example, and I followed them, impatient to rejoin Don Blas, but without much hope that Juanito would be deceived. My fears were soon changed to a painful certainty. The captain, unhorsed by the shot I had heard, lay upon the grass, his breast pierced by a ball, but still alive, in spite of the dangerous nature of his wound, and the blood that was flowing from it in abundance. We all hastened to assist him. One of the soldiers stanched the blood, and bound it up very dexterously with our handkerchiefs. While one of the escort went in pursuit of Don Blas's horse, which had escaped, and the captain, with his back to the trunk of a tree, was slowly reviving, I began to examine the ground on all sides. The unhappy man had evidently surprised the bandits at the very moment they were dividing their booty, for broken boxesand bags turned outside in strewed the ground in all directions. Refreshed by a sip of brandy that I caused him to swallow, Don Bias declared that he had seen nobody, and that he had but newly arrived at the place when he was stretched on the earth by a musket-shot. He then added that he knew the hand that had fired the piece. This was too singular a contradiction to provoke a reply. Whether he had said too much, and, being fatigued, wished to say no more, I know not, but he spoke not another word. In the mean time his horse had been caught, and the wounded man affirmed that he thought himself sufficiently recovered to be able to reach the convoy. Still, his strength not being equal to his inclination, it was necessary to lift him on horseback. A soldier mounted behind to support him and take the reins, and we set out on the road to Hoya.
We arrived there about midday. A new incident here awaited us. Scarcely had Don Bias been laid on one of the rough beds, hastily knocked up for him in a cabin in the village, when a detachment of the escort which had been scouring the country round all the morning brought in a prisoner with his hands tied behind his back. His face was blackened, and half concealed by a handkerchief. This disguise was most suspicious, as it is the one usually adopted by Mexican highwaymen. Under this hideous mask I fancied I discerned—a remarkable circumstance—the features of a man who had played a most prominent part in one of the most melancholy episodes of my wanderings, Don Tomas Verduzco. Surrounded by a crowd, he did not discern me. He entreated to be led to the captain; and his voice, though altered by his agitation, was still that of the bravo. I went before themen who were conducting him, and entered first into the hut where Don Blas lay. As soon as he saw the person they had brought him, his pale face became livid, and hatred gleamed in his eyes; he, however, said nothing. The prisoner stood unmoved, and an air of impudent assurance had replaced the expression of stupefaction that was visible a moment before in his countenance.
"What! Señor Don Blas!" cried he; "can I believe my eyes? Are you dangerously wounded? The conducta, it seems, has been pillaged in part, and I am accused of having assisted in that piece of villainy. Good God! it seems as if it were only a dream."
"I fear that it is something worse than a dream," replied the captain, coldly.
"What do you mean by that coldness?" said the bravo, for it was really he. "Your lordship will, perhaps, be less pleased at seeing me than I am in meeting you."
"On the contrary," answered Don Blas, in a voice to which excitement had restored all its former firmness, "I doubt if you are as glad to see me as I am to have you in my power."
"I do not understand you, Señor Captain," returned the bravo, impudently.
"Youwillunderstand me," said the captain. "If I am pleased at meeting you again, it is only that I may treat you as a highwayman, as a murderer, by shooting you at once, without benefit of clergy."
The look of the captain, which expressed an implacable hatred, added strength to his words; and the bravo, the predominant feature of whose character was evidently not courage, seemed almost to quail under this terrible menace, and he lost countenance for amoment. Seeing, however, that his wound gave Don Blas more assurance, he made a strong effort to master himself, and replied, in quite a firm tone of voice,
"Shootme! That's rather a good joke; but I have more protectors than you think; and, if it is necessary, I will say—Señor Captain, I will say—"
It was now Don Blas's turn to tremble. The captain ordered the bravo to be silent by an imperious gesture; and, signing to Juanito to leave the room, remained alone with the assassin. I am wholly ignorant of what passed between these two worthies, and could only guess what cause had so suddenly changed the opinion of Don Blas with regard to Verduzco. I only know that, after an hour's conversation, the bravo quitted the captain's chamber under the escort of Juanito, who appeared from that moment to treat the prisoner with singular consideration.
The captain's wound did not, however, look so alarming as it did, and a considerable difference could even be observed upon his spirits. After passing two miserable days in the cabin at Hoya, I heard without much surprise that Don Blas thought himself sufficiently recovered to be able to accompany us to Jalapa in a litter, which the chief muleteer had constructed for the purpose. The wounded officer would probably find in that town better medical advice than he could get in Hoya. He could also keep his prisoner in his own hands and under his own guidance.
We had more than fifteen miles to go to reach Jalapa, and, although it was almost two hours after midday before we set out, it was possible to reach that town if we traveled at a quickened pace. This time, a reconnoitring party had been sent on in advance, and every precaution taken to guard against a newsurprise. Juanito carried the prisoner behind him. The sergeant and his prisoner chatted as gayly as two friends who were going to the same fête, sharing the same horse. The convoy advanced at a rapid pace. We had now marched two leagues, and had reached San Miguel el Soldado. I then could not help observing that Juanito's horse, probably from its double burden, had lagged behind, and was now far in the rear. Restrained by curiosity from leaving the captive out of sight, I gradually checked the impetuosity of my horse in such a way as to follow Juanito and the bandit at a short distance.
"Caspita!" cried the sergeant, after a long silence, "you have on a capital pair of boots, Señor Don Tomas."
I must remind the reader that Juanito had only a bottine and a shoe.
"I am glad my boots please you," Verduzco replied, "and I would place them at your disposal, but you see I am not quite done with them yet."
"You are very kind, Señor Don Tomas," replied the sergeant, with equal courtesy, "but I mean that I would only borrow them from you when they are of no more use to you. That is always the way I do with my friends, and you are decidedly one. I shall wait, then."
The two horsemen then spoke in a low tone, and I could only catch snatches of their conversation. I was soon drawn away from the distraction into which I had been betrayed by the beauty of the landscape. We were just over San Miguel. From this elevated point the eye wandered over a charming valley, encircled by a belt of foggy mountains. The Naocampatepetl,[45]an extinct volcano, which has the appearanceof a square block of stone, is the highest eminence in this range. At the foot of the peak of Macuiltepetl, upon a beautiful carpet of verdure which covers the valley, in the midst of orange-trees in full blossom, of lofty palm-trees, and bananas loaded with fruit, stands the town of Jalapa, set as in a garland of flowers. Placed between the icy fog of the mountains which surround it and the hot atmosphere of the sea-coast, Jalapa is only visited by breezes laden with perfumes. The thick vapors, which hang like a curtain over the plain, lend to it a delicious freshness. Viewed from the top of the hill, where nothing was near but gloomy pines and a stunted vegetation, similar to that of the north, the valley which now lay at my feet seemed more enchanting from the contrast which it afforded.
Day at last came to a close. Macuiltepetl, and the sides of the extinct volcano, began to lose their shades of dusky violet, and already the peak of Orizaba[46]appeared at a distance like a brilliant star. At the bottom of the picture under my eye ran an almost imperceptible white line, which terminated to the right and left in the horizon. This line was the ocean, and it was not without a lively emotion that I contemplated that immense mass of water which laves the shores of France.
While I was absorbed in the contemplation of this enchanting landscape, the convoy had advanced considerably beyond me. I then fancied that the belt which bound the body of the bravo and the soldier together was not so tight as it used to be. This circumstance, remarked also by others, led me to believe that Juanito was conniving at a plan of escape on the part of the prisoner. I asked myself, though it was abusiness repugnant to my feelings, if I ought not to apprise the captain of the matter. However, I thought that my presence would be a hinderance to Verduzco's attempt to escape, and so preferred remaining where I was. Suddenly the belt, cut by the bravo's knife, divided into two, and the bandit, slipping from the horse's back to the ground, darted off at a run. The lancer was up with him at a single bound of his horse. Juanito applied the muzzle of his carbine to the bravo's head, drew the trigger, and blew out his brains before I could even utter a cry.
"On my word," said Juanito, replacing the carbine in its case, still smoking, "he can't complain that I have not had a regard for his feelings, for I could have got possession of his boots two hours sooner."
Set completely at ease on this delicate point, the sergeant dismounted, and, snatching the objects of his desire, pulled them off the corpse and put them on.
"I knew quite well," added he, "that I would complete my equipment at last."
"My dear Juanito," said I to him, "you are a faithful servant to the captain, although I always suspected the contrary; but there is a mystery wrapped up in this which I do not comprehend, and if you unriddle it for me I will give you a piastre."
"With much pleasure," said Juanito, taking the money; "I wish I could find every day a confessor equal in generosity to your lordship."
The sergeant remounted, and, while walking our horses together, he said,
"What you saw me do was by an order of the captain. To shoot this wicked knave would have been, in the eyes of the law, a crime that would have cost us dear; to place him in the hands of the judges wouldhave offered him a favorable chance of getting off altogether; to kill him, on the contrary, when he was trying to escape, was quite lawful. The attempt at flight, at which I seemed to connive, was only a plan concerted between the captain and me, and the prisoner fell into the snare."
"But why has your captain acted in such a way to a man with whom he had formerly such intimate relations?"
"Ah! that's quite another thing!" replied Juanito. "Before sending Verduzco to a better world, my captain charged me to confess my prisoner. Here is what he told me, and which I will tell only to you, or to those who will give me a piastre for the information. Counting upon the influence which he had in high places, Verduzco engaged to procure for the captain an acting order as commander of the first convoy which left Mexico, the agreement being that he was to allow the conducta to be pillaged on its march, and that afterward the proceeds should be shared between them. Don Blas accepted these conditions; but I must say in his favor that he seemed to have repented of the bargain he had made with the bandit. Now, you know what happened to the convoy; but the best of the joke is, that the successfulcoupwas made by another band than that of Verduzco's, who had not reckoned on any thing of the kind. While the bravo was waiting for the conducta beyond Hoya, another body of robbers, better informed, met it before it reached that place. It was by these wretches that the captain was wounded. He fancied that Verduzco had betrayed him, and it was on that account that I received the order to seize the first opportunity that offered to blow the ruffian's brains out."
We spurred our horses to rejoin the convoy. As soon as Juanito perceived the captain's litter, he set his horse to a gallop, and rode alongside for a time. Some minutes passed, during which, bending to the patient's ear, he whispered to him the execution of his orders. Suddenly he ordered the convoy to stop. All pressed round the litter, and I galloped up to ascertain the cause of the halt. A painful feeling, produced by the sergeant's report, had brought on bleeding internally, and when I came up he was already in the last agonies.
The death of Don Blas severed the last tie that bound me to the silver convoy. I resolved to let it proceed without me. The scenes I had witnessed had left a painful feeling on my mind, and I was no longer able to support the company of men whose brutal passions were not satisfied till a crime had been committed. I then halted, and soon saw the cavalcade disappear in the mist, conveying a litter which contained only a corpse, the escort around it holding their lances reversed as a sign of mourning. Night approached. I set out, and reached Jalapa after a slow march, where my sombre and melancholy thoughts were soon replaced by more cheerful feelings.