Kitabı oku: «The Indian Chief: The Story of a Revolution», sayfa 7
CHAPTER X
THE AMBASSADORS
The paper which the peon handed to Captain de Laville, and which caused him to feel such emotion, only contained one name; but it was a name well known at Guetzalli – that of the Count de Prébois Crancé. The Guetzallians had heard vague rumours of the French expedition formed at San Francisco for the purpose of working the inexhaustible mines of the Plancha de Plata. They knew, too, of the company's arrival at Guaymas; but since then they had received no news, and were completely ignorant of the events that had occurred.
The captain had not the remotest idea that the Count de Prébois was the leader of that expedition; but, from several words Louis had let fall during his stay at the hacienda, he suspected him of fostering certain projects against the Mexican Government. This was the reason why, on receiving the paper, his first impulse was to exclaim, "He here! What can be the matter?"
He proceeded at once to the count, persuaded that the latter, outlawed for some reason by the Mexican Government, had come to demand an asylum from him. Colonel Suarez' unexpected visit coincided strangely with the count's arrival, and confirmed him in his notion; for he supposed, with some appearance of truth, that the colonel was ordered to enforce on him not to receive the exile, or, if he received him into the colony, to hand him over at once to the Mexican authorities. Fearing lest he might commit some error prejudicial to the count, he had hurriedly left the colonel alone, in order to come to an understanding with his compatriot, as from the first moment he had resolved not only not to surrender him, but not to abandon him if he claimed his aid.
The reader sees that, although the captain's hypothesis was false, it bordered on the truth in several points.
Don Louis and Valentine, seated on butacas, were smoking and talking together, while drinking, to refresh themselves, a decoction of tamarinds, when the door opened, and the captain appeared. The three men shook hands affectionately, and then de Laville, making the others a sign to sit down again, began the conversation at once.
"What good wind brings you to Guetzalli, my dear count?" he said.
"Hum!" the latter said. "If you asked what cordonazo, you would be nearer the truth, my dear De Laville; for never has a more terrible hurricane assailed me than threatens at this moment."
"Oh, oh! do tell me about it I need hardly say, I suppose, I am quite at your service."
"Thank you; but, before all, one word. Who has taken the Count de Lhorailles' place in the government of the colony?"
"Myself," the young man modestly replied.
"By Jove! I am delighted to hear that," the count said frankly, "for no one was more worthy than you to succeed him."
"My dear sir!" he said in confusion.
"On my word, captain, I tell you honestly what I think: all the worse if it wounds you."
"Far from that," the young man remarked with a smile.
"Then all is for the best. I see that my interests will not be imperilled in your hands."
"You may feel assured of it."
"Permit me to introduce to you my most intimate friend, my foster brother, whose name you must often have heard, and with whom I should be glad for you to be better acquainted: in one word, he is the French scout whom the Indians and Mexicans have surnamed the 'Trail-hunter.'"
The captain rose hurriedly, and held out his hand to the hunter.
"What!" he said with considerable emotion, "Are you Valentine Guillois?"
"Yes, sir," the hunter replied with a modest bow.
"Oh, sir!" the young man exclaimed warmly, "I am delighted to form your personal acquaintance. Everybody respects and cherishes you here, because you maintain that title of Frenchman, of which we are all so proud. Thanks, count, thanks; and now, by heavens, ask of me anything you please, and I shall not know how to repay the pleasure you have caused me.
"Good heavens!" the count replied; "for the present I will only ask you a very simple matter. You will soon be visited, if he has not already arrived, by an aide-de-camp of General Guerrero."
"Colonel Suarez?"
"Yes."
"He is here."
"Already?"
"He has only been here an hour."
"He has told you nothing?"
"Not yet: we have not spoken together."
"All the better. Would you mind placing us where it would be possible for us to overhear your conversation, and not be seen?"
"That is very simple. Adjoining the room where he is waiting for me is a recess, only covered by a curtain; but we can manage it better still."
"How?"
"Does he know you?"
"Me?"
"Yes. Does he know you by sight?"
"No."
"You are sure of that?"
"Quite."
"Nor this gentleman either?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Very good: let me manage it. I will arrange it all; and now to talk of yourself."
"It is unnecessary."
"Why so?"
"Because it is probable the colonel will tell you more than I could."
"Ah, ah! then you fancy he has come on your account?"
"I am certain of it."
"Very good. Now, do not trouble yourself about anything, but let me arrange it all."
"Agreed."
"I will be with you again directly."
And he left the room.
The colonel was still in the same position as when we left him. He had lighted a considerable number of husk cigarettes, and the nicotine was beginning to act gently on his brain; his eyelids were drooping; in short, he was just on the point of going to sleep. The sudden entrance of the captain aroused him from this state of torpor, and he raised his head.
"Pray pardon my having left you alone so long," the young man said; "but an unforeseen event – "
"You are quite excused," the colonel answered politely. "Still I should have been charmed had you thought of advising the Count de Lhorailles of my arrival, for the affair that brought me here admits of no delay."
The captain regarded the Mexican with surprise.
"How!" he said, "the Count de Lhorailles?"
"Certainly: it is to him alone that I must communicate the dispatches of which I am bearer."
"But the Count de Lhorailles has been dead for nearly a year. Were you not aware of the fact?"
"My word, no, sir, I confess."
"That is extraordinary; yet I remember having sent a courier express to the Governor of Sonora to inform him of this death, and announce to him at the same time that the choice of my countrymen had fallen on me to take his place."
"It is probable, then, either that your courier did not obey his orders, or was assassinated on the road."
"I fear it."
"So that you, sir, are now captain of the colony of Guetzalli?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are very young to occupy so difficult a post."
"Colonel," de Laville answered with a slight hauteur, "we Frenchmen do not measure men by age or height."
"It is frequently wrong; but no matter, that does not concern me. With whom have I the honour of speaking?"
"With Don Carlos de Laville."
The colonel bowed.
"I will, then, with your permission, caballero, communicate my dispatches to you."
"A moment, sir," the captain said quickly. "I cannot listen to you unless I have by my side two of the principal men in the colony."
"For what object?"
"That is the law."
"Do so, then."
The captain struck a bell, and a peon entered.
"Ask the two gentlemen waiting in the green room to come here," he said.
The peon went out.
"What! the two persons who are waiting?" the colonel said suspiciously.
"Yes. As I presumed, colonel, that you were the bearer of dispatches, I warned these two persons in order to detain you as short a time as possible."
"In that case permit me to return you my thanks, for I am really terribly pressed for time."
At this moment the door opened, and the count and Valentine came in. The colonel bent a piercing glance upon them, to try to discover with what sort of men he would have to deal; but it was impossible to read anything in their cold and rigid countenances, which seemed hewn out of marble.
"Gentlemen," the captain said, "Colonel Don Suarez, aide-de-camp to General Don Sebastian Guerrero, military governor of the State of Sonora. Colonel Suarez, two of my countrymen."
The three men bowed stiffly.
"Now, gentlemen," the captain continued, "pray be seated. The colonel is the bearer of dispatches he wishes to communicate to us, and they are probably important, as the colonel has not stopped even between Pitic and this place. We are ready to listen to you, colonel."
Like all men accustomed to double dealing and underhand schemes, the colonel possessed an infallible instinct for scenting treachery. In the present case, although all was being done ostensibly with the greatest frankness, and he was a thousand leagues from suspecting the truth, he guessed that he was being cheated, although it was impossible to perceive the secret object they had in view. Still he had no subterfuges he could employ: he must obey his instructions, and he decided on doing so, much against the grain, after bending on the two strangers a second glance, by which he sought to read their very hearts' thoughts, but which had no better result than the first.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you have doubtlessly not forgotten the numberless acts of kindness with which the Mexican Government has overwhelmed you."
"Overwhelmed is the word," de Laville interrupted him with a smile. "Go on, colonel."
"The Government is ready to make still greater sacrifices for you, if necessary."
"Caspita!" the young man again interrupted him, "we will spare it the trouble. The kindnesses of the Mexican Government generally cost us very dearly."
A discussion commenced in this tone of raillery had not the slightest chance of resulting in an amicable arrangement. Still the colonel did not break down, his mind was made up. He cared little for the result, for he knew perfectly well that those who sent him would not hesitate to disavow him according to circumstances.
"Hum!" he said, "the following proposal is made you."
"I beg your pardon, colonel, but before telling us the proposals, perhaps it would be better to explain to us the reasons that induce the Government to offer them," de Laville observed.
"Good heavens, sir! you must know the reasons as well as I do."
"Pardon me, but we are completely ignorant of them, and would feel greatly obliged by your telling them to us."
The count and Valentine were as motionless as statues, and these two gloomy faces disturbed the colonel in an extraordinary manner.
"The reasons are very simple," he stammered.
"I do not doubt it, but be good enough to mention them."
"This letter," he said, handing a sealed paper to the captain, "will explain the matter fully."
De Laville took the paper, read it through hurriedly, and then crumpled it up passionately in his hand.
"Colonel," he then said in a firm voice, "the Government of Sonora forgets that the colony of Guetzalli only contains Frenchmen; that is to say, no traitors. We have retained our nationality, although established in this country; and if the Mexican laws will not protect us we will appeal to our minister at Mexico, and, if necessary, contrive to protect ourselves."
"These threats, sir – " the colonel interrupted.
"They are not threats," the young man continued energetically. "General Guerrero insults us by inviting us not merely to abandon one of our countrymen, who is in every respect worthy of our support, through his loyalty, courage, and nobility of character, but also by proposing to us to hunt him down like a wild beast, and deliver him over. The general menaces us with outlawry if we assist the count, whom he brands as a pirate and a rebel. Let him do so if he please. This letter you have handed me will be carried by a sure man to Mexico, and handed to our minister, with a detail of all the annoyances we have suffered from the Mexican authorities ever since our settlement here."
"You are wrong, sir," the colonel answered, "to take the proposal made you in this way. The general is very well disposed toward you. I doubt not that he will consent to grant you great advantages if you will only obey him. What do you peaceful colonists care for this rebellious count, whom I dare say you never heard of? Your own interests demand that you should turn against him. This man is a villain, to whom nothing is sacred. Since his arrival in our country he has committed the most odious crimes. Take my advice, sir; do not obstinately choose a wrong path, but prove to the Government all your gratitude for the favours you have received by abandoning this villain."
The captain had listened calmly and coldly to the Mexican's long diatribe, holding in check by a glance the count and his companion, who found it very difficult not to burst out and treat this man in the way he deserved. When the colonel at length ceased, the captain looked at him with sovereign contempt.
"Have you finished?" he said dryly.
"Yes," the other answered in confusion.
"Very good. Now, thanks to Heaven, we have nothing more in common. Be good enough to mount your horse and leave the colony immediately. As for General Guerrero, tell him that I will give him an answer myself."
"I will retire, sir. Do you intend to give this answer soon?"
"Within twenty-four hours. Begone!"
"I will report our conversation word for word to the general."
"I shall be glad of it. Good-by till we meet again, sir."
"What! do you intend to take your answer personally?"
"Perhaps so," de Laville answered mockingly.
The colonel went out all abashed by his reception, and followed by the three men, who did not let him out of sight, and walked by his side, so as to prevent him communicating with anyone. His horse was waiting in the courtyard, held by one of the orderlies. The colonel mounted and rode off rapidly, for he was anxious to leave the colony. On reaching the isthmus gate he, however, turned round, and looked back for some time.
"Who can those two men be?" he muttered.
And he dug his spurs in his horse's sides. When he had disappeared in the windings of the road the captain seized Don Louis' hand, and pressed it affectionately.
"And now, my dear count," he said to him, "speak. What can I do for you?"
CHAPTER XI
THE PLAN OF THE CAMPAIGN
The count returned the young man's affectionate pressure, but shook his head sorrowfully and remained silent.
"Why do you not answer me?" the captain asked him. "Do you doubt my willingness to be of service to you?"
"It is not that," the count said sadly. "I know that your heart is noble and generous, and that you will not hesitate to come to my aid."
"Whence arises this hesitation, then?"
"Friend," the count answered with a melancholy smile, "I reproach myself at this moment for having come to find you."
"For what reason?"
"Need I tell you? This land you cultivate, only a few years back, was a virgin forest, serving as a lurking place for wild beasts: now, thanks to your labour and intelligence, it has been metamorphosed into a fertile and cultivated plain; numerous flocks feed in your prairies; the desolation and neglect of this frontier have disappeared to make room for the incessant toil of civilisation. This colony of Guetzalli, founded with so much trouble, bedewed with so much blood, prospers, and is beginning to repay amply the toil and perspiration it cost you. The day is at hand when, stimulated by your example, other colonists will come to join you, and, by aiding you to repulse the Indios Bravos into their impenetrable deserts, will for ever protect the Mexican frontiers from the depredations of the savages, and restore to this magnificent country its pristine splendour.
"Well?" the captain remarked.
"Well," the count continued, "is it fitting for me, a stranger, a man to whom you owe nothing, to drag you into a contest without any probable issue – to mix you up in a quarrel which does not concern you, and in which you have everything to lose, so that tomorrow the land you have, after so many efforts, torn from desolation, should fall back into its primitive barbarism? In a word, my friend, I ask myself by what title and by what right I should drag you down in my fall."
"By what title and right? I will tell you," the young captain said nobly. "We are here six thousand leagues from our country, on the extreme limits of the desert, having no protection to hope, or help to seek, other than from ourselves. At such a distance from their country all Frenchmen must consider each other as brothers, and be responsible for each other. All must resent an insult offered to a Frenchman. It is because we are few in number, and consequently exposed to the insults of our enemies, that we ought to defend one another, and demand that justice should be done us. By acting thus we not only protect our own honour, but defend our country, and guard from any insult that title of Frenchmen of which we are justly proud."
"You speak well, captain," Valentine interrupted him. "Your words are those of a man of heart. It is abroad that patriotism must be strong and inflexible. We have no right to allow wretched enemies to lower that national honour which our brothers in France have intrusted to us; for each of us here represents our beloved country, and must at his risk and peril make it be respected by all, no matter under what circumstances."
"Yes," the captain answered quickly, "the Mexican Government, by insulting the Count de Prébois Crancé, by breaking all its engagements with him, and betraying him in so cowardly a fashion, has not insulted a Frenchman, an individual, or nameless adventurer, but the whole of France. Well, France must reply to it, and, by heavens! we will pick up the glove thrown to us. We will fight to avenge our honour; and if we succumb, we shall have fallen nobly in the arena, and believe me, gentlemen, our blood will not have been shed in vain: our country will pity while admiring us, and our fall will create us avengers. Besides, my dear count," he added, "you are in no way a stranger to the colony of Guetzalli; for did you not lend us the support of your arm and your counsels under critical circumstances? It is our turn now, and we shall only pay our debts after all."
The count could not refrain from smiling.
"Well," he said with emotion, "be it so: I accept your generous devotion. Any further resistance would not only be ridiculous, but might appear in your eyes ungrateful."
"Very good," the captain said gaily; "we are now beginning to understand each other. I was certain that I should end by convincing you."
"You are a charming companion," the count retorted; "it is impossible to resist you."
"By Jove! you arrive at the very moment to obtain speedy help."
"How so?"
"Just imagine that two days later you would not have found me at home."
"Impossible!"
"Did you not notice, on your arrival, the wagons and carts arranged in one of the courts you crossed?"
"I did."
"I was on the point of starting, at the head of eighty picked men, to go and work certain mines we have heard about."
"Ah, ah!"
"Yes; but for the present the expedition will remain in statu quo, for the band I intended to lead into the desert will join you, or at least I presume so."
"What! you presume so?"
"Yes, because I cannot dispose of the band, or change the object of the expedition, without the general assent."
"That is true," said the count; and his features grew solemn.
"But do not feel alarmed," the captain continued; "we shall easily obtain that assent when the colonists know what interests I propose to serve."
"May Heaven grant it!"
"I guarantee success. You have, I suppose, all the stores necessary for entering on a campaign?"
"Nearly so; but I regret to say that all my arrieros have deserted me, and left my camp furtively."
"The deuce! and naturally they took their mules with them?"
"All, without exception; and this renders it very embarrassing to move my baggage and draw my guns."
"Good, good! We will provide for all that. I have here, as you saw, excellent wagons; I am also well supplied with mules; and there are in the colony men perfectly capable of leading them."
"You will render me no slight service."
"I hope to render you others far greater than that."
The three men had returned to the room in which the conference with Colonel Suarez had taken place. The captain struck the bell, and a peon entered.
"This evening, after oración, at the end of the day's labour, the colonists will assemble in the patio to hear an important communication I have to make to them," he said.
The domestic bowed.
"Bring the dinner," the captain added. Then, turning to his guests, he said, "I presume you will dine with me, for you cannot start again before tomorrow?"
"That is true. Still we expect to be off before sunrise."
"Where is your camp?"
"At the mission of Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles."
"That is close by."
"Oh! some thirty leagues at the most."
"Yes, and the position is very strong. You do not intend, though, to stay there long?"
"No; I mean to strike a heavy blow."
"You are right: you must cause the terror of your name to precede you."
At this moment the peons brought in the dinner.
"To table, gentlemen," the captain said.
The meal was, as might be expected in this extreme frontier, excessively frugal. It was only composed of venison, maize tortillas, red beans, and pimiento, the whole washed down with pulque, mezcal, and Catalonian refino, the strongest spirit in the known world. The guests had a true hunter's appetite; that is to say, they were nearly dead of hunger, for the count and Valentine had eaten nothing for thirty hours. Hence they vigorously attacked the provisions placed before them.
The peons had retired immediately after bringing in the dinner, so as to leave the party full liberty for conversation. Hence, so soon as the rough edge was taken off their appetite, the discussion was begun again exactly where it left off, which always occurs with men whose minds are preoccupied by any difficult project.
"So," the captain asked, "war is decidedly declared between you and the Mexican Government?"
"Without remedy."
"Although the cause you sustain is just, as you are fighting for the maintenance of a right, still you will inscribe something on the banner you display?"
"Of course. I inscribe the only thing which can guarantee me the protection of the people through whom I pass, and make the oppressed and the malcontents flock to me."
"Hum! what is it?"
"Only four words."
"And they are?"
"Independencia de la Sonora."
"Yes, the idea is a happy one. If a particle of nobility and generosity is left in the hearts of the inhabitants of this unhappy country (which, however, I confess to you I greatly doubt), those four words will suffice to produce a revolution."
"I hope so, without daring to count on it. You know, like myself, the Mexican character – a strange composite of all good and bad instincts, about which it is impossible to form a decided opinion."
"Why, my dear count, the Mexicans are like every people that has been for a long time enslaved. After remaining children for ages, they grew too fast, and had the pretension of being men, when they scarcely began to comprehend their emancipation, or were in a position to derive any benefit from it."
"Still we will attempt to galvanise them. The revolutionary race is, perhaps, not completely extinct in this country, and what remains will be sufficient to enkindle the sacred flame in the hearts of all."
"What do you intend to do?"
"Hasten onwards, so as not to let myself be attacked, which always implies inferiority, if not timidity."
"That is true."
"How many men do you expect to be able to give me?"
"Eighty horsemen, commanded by myself, as I told you."
"Thanks! But when will these horsemen (who, by the way, will be very useful to me, as I possess so few at the moment) be able to join me?"
"This evening they will be granted you, and in two days they will reach the mission."
"Could you send off the mules, wagons, and muleteers tomorrow with me?"
"Certainly."
"Very good. I will set out at once for Magdalena: it is a large pueblo, commanding the two roads from Ures and Hermosillo."
"I know it."
"Proceed there direct, for that will save a loss of time."
"Agreed. I shall arrive there at the same time as yourself, which will be the more easy as I shall send off my baggage to your head quarters."
"Very good."
"You intend, then, to act energetically?"
"Yes; I mean to try a grand stroke. If I succeed in taking one of the three capitals of Sonora I shall have gained the campaign."
"Such an enterprise is surely rash."
"I know it; but in my position I dare not calculate consequences – boldness alone can and must save me.
"You are right, and I will not add a word. But now let us proceed to the meeting, for our men are assembled. In their present temper I am certain that the request I am about to make of them will be granted without difficulty."
They went out. As the captain had announced, all the colonists were assembled in the courtyard, broken up into scattered groups, eagerly discussing the reasons which caused their assemblage. When the captain appeared, accompanied by his two friends, silence was immediately established, curiosity closing the mouths of the most talkative.
The Count de Prébois Crancé was known to most of the colonists: his appearance was consequently hailed with sympathetic greetings, for each retained in his memory the recollection of the services he had rendered when Guetzalli was so rudely assailed by the Apaches. The captain cleverly availed himself of this goodwill, on which he had, indeed, built, in order to explain his request clearly to the colonists, while accounting for the causes which obliged the count to come and seek allies at Guetzalli.
The men would not have been the hearty adventurers they really were, had they received such a request coldly. Seduced, as was natural, by the strangeness and even the temerity of the enterprise proposed to them, they consented to range themselves under the count's banner with enthusiastic shouts and delight. The first expedition projected, and for which all the preparations had been made, was completely forgotten, and the only question was the enfranchisement of Sonora. Had the count asked for two hundred men, he would certainly have obtained them on the spot without the slightest difficulty.
Captain de Laville, delighted at the prodigious success he had achieved, warmly thanked his comrades, both in the count's name and his own, and immediately began getting ready to start. The wagons were carefully inspected to see that they were all in order, and were then laden with all the articles requisite for the coming campaign. At about an hour before sunrise all was ready for starting; the wagons were loaded, and horses attached; the mules, carefully selected, were intrusted to steady men.
Louis and Valentine mounted; the captain accompanied them about a league from the company; and then they parted, agreeing to meet again three days later at La Magdalena.
Mules and wagons progress very slowly in Mexico, where there are in reality no roads, and where you are generally forced to cut a path with the axe. Louis and his foster brother, whose presence was imperatively demanded at the mission, felt in despair at this slowness. In this extremity the count resolved to leave the caravan, and push on ahead. In consequence they left the arrieros, after recommending the greatest diligence to them, and burying their spurs in their horses' flanks, set out at full speed for the mission.
The American horses, descended from the old Arabs of the conquerors of New Spain, have several incontestable advantages over ours. In the first place they are temperate: a little alfalfa in the morning, after washing their mouths out, enables them to go a whole day without food, drink, or rest. These horses seem indefatigable, and, indeed, they have only one pace – the gallop; and at the end of the day, after going twenty leagues at that pace, they have not turned a hair, and do not display the slightest fatigue.
As our two horsemen were mounted on crack steeds, they reached the mission in a comparatively very short period. At the first barricade a man was waiting for them: it was Curumilla.
"Someone is waiting for you," he said. "Come."
They followed him, asking each other with a glance what reason could be so important as to draw such a long sentence from Curumilla.
