CHAPTER XXVIII.
PREPARATIONS FOR A RESCUE
We will now leave the Comanche camp for a season, and return to the Hacienda del Río, belonging to Count de Melgosa, whither we have before taken the reader, and to which the count ordered the wounded man to be conveyed. When they approached the hacienda, the Canadian remarked to the count that perhaps Don Melchior, owing to his weakness, could not be able to stand crossing the stream, and the ascent of the hill, which was rendered more fatiguing by the steepness of the path that led to the front gate. The count began laughing.
"What is it that amuses your Excellency?" the Canadian asked.
"Well," the count answered, "I am laughing at your simplicity, my friend."
"My simplicity!"
"Yes; I fancied you better acquainted with strategics."
"What do you mean?"
"Hang it all! You ought to know that a good general never lets himself be besieged without having the means to break the blockade when he thinks proper."
"Ah, ah!" the hunter said with a smile, "I suspected it; but no matter. Go on, Excellency."
"Does it interest you?"
"Enormously."
"Ah!" he said, giving him an inquiring glance.
"Oh, simply from an artistic point of view."
"Very good; well, I wish to prove to you what value I set on you, and what faith I have in your honour."
"You were wrong to doubt it, Excellency."
"I believe so. Then I will show you what no living being has ever yet seen."
"By Jove, Excellency, permit me to remark to you that what you are doing is most imprudent."
"With anyone else it would certainly be so; but are you not my friend?"
"I hope so, Excellency."
"In that case, it is no longer imprudent, but merely a mark of confidence. Diego López," he added, turning to the peon, "go to the right."
"Excellency," the latter said respectfully, "if we go to the right after passing that clump of larches, sumachs, and floripondios, we shall come to an impassable belt of rocks which border the river on that side."
"Nonsense," the count continued with a smile; "never mind; go on."
Diego López bowed, and at once went in the direction ordered. The road had to be cut with the axe, and they only advanced step by step. After about an hour of extremely fatiguing toil, the band reached, as Diego López had predicted, the foot of an enormous and irregular mass of rocks heaped on each other to a great height. They were forced to halt, owing to the material impossibility of going any further.
"You see, Excellency," Diego López said, with the satisfaction of a servant who believes he has got the best of his master.
"Yes, yes, I see," the count replied, as he attentively examined the rocks; "be kind enough, Señor Clary, to hold my horse for a moment."
He dismounted, threw the bridle to the Canadian, and said to the peon —
"Come hither, Diego."
The latter followed him without a word, vainly torturing his brain to guess what his master intended to do. The count walked straight up to the rocks; on reaching a certain spot he stooped, and after a moment's reflection, said —
"Thrust your gun barrel into that crack, and press."
The peon obeyed with the passive resignation of a good servant, and after a few efforts a rather large block started and fell to the ground.
"Very good," the count said; "go on; now this one." A second stone, larger than the first, fell, and revealed the entrance of a cave.
"Now," the count continued, "enlarge the passage."
"By heavens!" the Canadian exclaimed, "That is prodigious, and we can pass through, horses and all."
"Of course. Do you not know that all the haciendas of any size in this country were built by the first conquistadors of the country, who, being daily exposed to the attacks of the Indians, were obliged to dig passages of this nature, which allowed them, in the event of a siege, to procure provisions, or call in the aid of their friends and allies?"
"And you are not afraid to show this passage to me?" the Canadian said, in wonderment.
"Why should I be afraid? I repeat, that you are a friend, and that I have faith in you."
"That is true," the Canadian replied; "but, no matter," he added, with a shake of his head, "you have run a tremendous risk."
"Nonsense," the count continued, with a careless shrug of the shoulder. "With you?"
While they were conversing, Diego López and his comrades had worked so well that the entrance was now wide enough for the little band to pass.
"Come," said the count.
They went in, and when the last peon had passed through, the count continued —
"Now, Diego López, put the stones back in their place as well as you can, for it is useless to show other people the road we have taken."
The peons set to work, and in less than half an hour the entrance was once more hermetically closed, and so skilfully, that no one could have detected it from the outside. The passage in which the Spaniards found themselves was probably lighted by a multitude of imperceptible fissures, which at the same time renewed the stock of air; for although the entrance had been stopped up, it was not dark, and it was perfectly easy to breathe. Cut in the rock, the roof of this passage was lofty enough for a man to pass through comfortably on horseback – it was arched; the ground was dry and covered with a fine sand of a golden-yellow.
The count placed himself at the head of the little party and gave a signal to start. At first the passage descended rather abruptly, and from the noise the travellers heard over their heads, they understood that they were passing beneath the bed of the river; but gradually the ground rose gently, and the passage ascended with innumerable windings, opening out every now and then into long galleries, which showed that the first owners of this hacienda, as prudent people, retained several issues. At regular distances, they came to massive iron doors, which the count opened by touching a hidden spring, and which closed again after the travellers.
At length, after marching for about three-quarters of an hour in this inextricable labyrinth, the count stopped before a massive oak door, entirely covered with thick plates of iron.
"We have arrived," he said.
"What do you mean?" the Canadian remarked, "Not at the hacienda, I suppose?"
"Yes, we are at the hacienda; and, more than that, we are at the entrance of the court leading to the corral."
"That is impossible," said the Canadian.
The count smiled and touched a spring. The door opened, and the Canadian repressed a cry of surprise as the count informed him they were really in an inner court of the hacienda, which was at this moment empty. The travellers entered, and then the gate was closed so hermetically, and so thoroughly formed a part of the wall through the stones with which it was covered, that in spite of the attention with which the adventurer examined it, it was impossible for him to discover its exact position.
"It is prodigious!" he muttered.
"Not at all," the count replied, gently; "it is, on the contrary, a very ordinary affair, only due to the skill of the workman who was intrusted with the job. But let us lose no more time here; Diego López, convey the wounded man to the green room. Do not trouble yourself about your horse, Señor Clary, it will be taken care of; come."
"Hang it, the beast is valuable; and were it only for the sake of the person from whom I obtained it, I should not like any accident to happen to it."
"As for that, be at your ease; your horse will be as well taken care of as if it belonged to me."
Completely reassured by this promise, the Canadian dismounted and accompanied his host into the house. The count's unexpected arrival and the mysterious way in which he entered the hacienda caused some surprise to his people, who did not understand how he could have got in unseen by any of the sentries in a so carefully guarded fortress. The reception the countess gave the adventurer was not merely polite, but even affectionate, and very different from the somewhat dry manner in which she greeted him on the first occasion. Don Melchior was put to bed; and when the count and the Canadian entered the green room, the doctor of the hacienda was attending to him. The young man was asleep.
"Well," the count asked, presently, "what do you think about your patient, doctor?"
The doctor, or, to speak more correctly, the barber, who undertook that duty, drew himself up, pursed his eyebrows, and replied gravely —
"This young man is as well as his state allows him to be. I have bled him copiously, which, I believe, will produce a favourable result; in two days, if no serious accident occur, I can promise you that he will feel but little of the numerous contusions he has received."
"Thanks, doctor, for your good prognostics; attend to this young man as you would to myself; I have the greatest wish to hear him talk as soon as possible, even if he cannot get about."
"I will give you that satisfaction this very evening, Excellency," the doctor answered. "When the patient awakes, his strength will have returned sufficiently to allow him to answer any questions you may think proper to ask him."
The count and the adventurer exchanged a glance of satisfaction on hearing this. The doctor's prediction was realized, for shortly before sunset Don Melchior opened his eyes. At first he was somewhat astonished to find himself lying in bed and attended by a doctor; but when the latter had told him in a few words how, on being found half dead, he was transported to the spot where he now was, his memory at once returned, and he earnestly begged the doctor to inform the count that as he was refreshed by the bleeding and rested by the sleep which had resulted from it, he earnestly requested to see his saviour in order to thank him for the service he had done him, and to ask him to let him return as soon as possible to the Hacienda del Barrio, where matters of the greatest importance summoned him. The count and the Canadian proceeded straight to the young man, and after congratulating him on the fortunate change which had taken place in him in so short a time, pressed him to tell them all that had happened.
Don Melchior, on recognizing the count, who during his visit to the hacienda had displayed much interest in him, had no difficulty in recounting what had happened in the fullest detail, the more so because knowing the count to be on very intimate terms with Don Aníbal Saldibar, he hoped that the Spanish gentleman might help him in the plan he meditated. The count was overwhelmed with grief on hearing the misfortune which had happened to Doña Emilia, and immediately suspected that the daring abduction to which she had been a victim was the revenge of the Red Buffaloes, those constant foes of Don Aníbal. But there was some mystery about this skilfully arranged and boldly executed expedition. He suspected treachery, though it was impossible to rest those suspicions on one person more than another. His anxiety was the greater because it was probable that the ravishers, after their snare was successful, had returned to the impenetrable deserts which served them as refuge, and where it was impossible to pursue them, especially owing to the state of confusion into which the country was thrown by the decisive pronunciamiento of which Don Aníbal was one of the principal chiefs, and was stripped of any hope of cooperation from the Spaniards. The situation was serious, and the count did not know how to escape from it.
"Listen to me," said the Canadian, who during the young man's recital had not made the slightest remark. "The affair of which you are talking, is beyond the pale of the common law. Spanish troops will be of no more use to you than Mexican. You have to deal with redskins, do not overlook that fact."
"We know it perfectly well," the count interrupted; "but how does that advance us?"
"Pardon me, Excellency, but I am acquainted with Indian habits. During the fifteen years I have been traversing the desert in all directions I have had time to study them, hence I believe myself in a position to give you good advice."
"Speak, my friend, speak," the count exclaimed.
"Explain yourself, caballero," the young man said imploringly.
"One of two things will happen," the Canadian continued. "Either the redskins have seized Doña Emilia and her daughter in order to massacre them, or they have carried them off for the purpose of obtaining a ransom. In the first place they will not kill them for a week, because if it be a revenge, as you say, they desire to take on their enemies, they will sacrifice their victims in the presence of the whole nation assembled for a species of holiday, which will necessitate a great loss of time in convening the scattered tribes. In the second case, you have nothing to fear for the life of the ladies; and tomorrow, possibly today, they will send to the hacienda a messenger to settle the amount of ransom."
"Hum! What you do us the honour of telling us is doubtless very sensible," the count remarked; "but I do not yet see the nature of the advice you wish to give us."
"Patience," the Canadian continued with a shake of his head, "my advice is this. Tomorrow, at sunrise, I will start for the Hacienda del Barrio. If no Indian has appeared, after reporting the result of my embassy, and warning Don Aníbal of what has happened, I will have a talk with my friend Moonshine. He knows the Indians as well as I do, perhaps better. Well, if he shares my opinion, we will both start on the trail of the redskins, and they will be very cunning, I swear, if we do not discover them. That is my advice."
"Yes," the count answered, "your reasoning is excellent, and the plan you propose is the only one feasible; but what can two men do alone against several hundreds? You will be killed without any advantage."
"Well, if you can hit on a better scheme, I shall not oppose it."
"I do not say that I can. I merely believe that your idea, good in principle, is bad in its mode of execution; that is to say, where two men would perish, ten or fifteen would infallibly succeed."
"But where will you find that number of men to volunteer running such risks?"
"I will be the first," Don Melchior said warmly.
"And I the second," the count said more calmly.
"You?" the Canadian remarked, with surprise.
"Yes, I, my friend," he continued. "I have an old account to settle with the redskins generally, and the Red Buffaloes particularly. They are my enemies also. The marks of their claws have been for a long time imprinted on my flesh. Who knows whether I shall not avenge myself, while fancying that I am only avenging a friend?"
"Hence," said Don Melchior, "we will start tomorrow at sunrise."
"I alone," the Canadian answered; "your presence at the hacienda would be more injurious than useful. Allow Don Aníbal's grief time to calm before presenting yourself to him."
The young man felt the force of the adventurer's reasoning, and hung his head sadly, though without offering any objection.
"I will accompany you, señor," said the count. "I trust that my intervention with Don Aníbal will not prove in vain."
"What are you thinking of, Excellency? In the present state of affairs, do you not fear being regarded as an enemy?"
"Politics have nothing to do with the step I propose taking in your company, señor. Moreover, do you not remember that I have sworn never more to serve the Spanish government? I am, therefore, free to act as I please."
"I have no remarks to make to you on that subject, Excellency; perhaps it is better that it should be so; besides, you know better than I do what line of conduct you ought to hold."
"Believe me, my friend, that the one I am adopting is the best."
"Then," Don Melchior remarked, sadly, "you condemn me to remain here?"
"Yes, till you receive fresh orders, my friend," the Canadian said good-humouredly; "but do not feel vexed, young gentleman; get well again as quickly as you can, and you shall enter on the campaign against the redskins in our company."
"Do you promise me that?" the young man asked, with a start of joy.
"I swear it, on the faith of Oliver Clary. You are too brave to be left behind."
The young man thanked him warmly, and feeling easier in his mind, he fell back on his bed, and was soon fast asleep. On the morrow at sunrise the count and the Canadian entered the chamber of the wounded man to take leave of him, but they found him dressed and ready to start.
"You know very well that you are not to accompany us."
"It is not my intention either," he answered.
"Still you are preparing to leave the hacienda."
"Yes, and probably at the same time as yourself."
"Hum!" said the Canadian, as he took a side glance at the young man, whose handsome masculine face, pale with suffering, had an expression of energetic will. "You seem quite resolved," he said.
"Whatever may happen, yes."
There was a silence.
"Very good," the Canadian continued; "wait for me here for six hours."
"What are you going to do?" Don Melchior exclaimed.
"On my return I will tell you: do you pledge me your word?"
"I do."
"Very good."
Without adding a word, Oliver went out, making the count a sign to follow him.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE REVOLUTION
We will now return to the Hacienda del Barrio, in order to explain to the reader certain important events which had occurred, the knowledge of which is indispensable to understand coming facts. The conspirators, after the departure of Count de Melgosa, whose unexpected visit had so disagreeably surprised them, had immediately separated, not through any fear of the consequences which this visit might have for them, but, on the contrary, to arm their peons and adherents, and put themselves as quickly as possible in a position to resist any attempted aggression on the part of the Spanish government.
The Mexicans, instructed and hardened to war by ten years' fighting and their numerous defeats, were no longer the half-savage men who marched without order or discipline, impelled solely by religious fanaticism or the ardent love of liberty, and let themselves be bravely slaughtered by the old Spanish bands on the plains of Calderón. Hidalgo and Morelos, those sublime champions of liberty, had lost their lives in their generous attempts at emancipation; but their blood had not in vain bedewed that Mexican soil which the Spaniards fancied enslaved forever. Other chiefs, electrified by the heroic devotion of their predecessors, had risen in their turn, and, profiting by past errors, organized the revolt, and gradually, by their skilful and incessant guidance, the insurrection, at first timid and retired, extended, and eventually became a revolution.
The knell of Spain had rung: her power, ruined on all sides, crumbled away in hands too feeble to hold it. The Viceroys of New Spain, incessantly pressed, were involuntarily forced to try concessions – a fatal resolve for tyranny, which it is impossible to check, for no sooner is one difficulty smoothed than another larger and more formidable rises up. The supreme struggle began. The proclamation of Iguala, published by General Iturbide – that is to say, the independence of New Spain, union between the Spanish and Mexican races, and the exclusive maintenance of the Catholic religion – gave the signal for revolt. It was general; insurgent bands were organized on all sides.
Don Pelagio Sandoval summoned all the hacenderos of the province, and two days after the conference we have described, the insurgent forces, amounting to more than ten thousand well-armed men, infantry and cavalry, and having a battery of six mountain guns, quitted the Hacienda del Barrio, where their chief only left a weak garrison to hold the Indians in check, and advanced by forced marches on Coahuila. This capital of the province was a town of nine or ten thousand souls, built on an affluent of the Río Sabina, surrounded by walls, and; owing to the arrangements made long before by General Cárdenas, it was perfectly defended from a surprise. The progress of the insurrectionary army was truly a triumphant march. At each step reinforcements reached it, and the Mexicans everywhere took up arms. Leona Vicario, Castanuello, Parras, Nueva Bilbao, and Santa Rosa expelled the Spaniards, and proclaimed their independence by hoisting the green, white, and red flag, the emblem of the three guarantees of the treaty of Iguala, independence, union, and religion.
Don Pelagio Sandoval, not wishing to leave any enemy in his rear, suddenly attacked the Presidio of the Río Grande as well as the forts of the Agua Verde and Bahia, built on the Río del Norte, in order to protect the border against Indian forays, and after a vigorous resistance, carried them by storm. The insurgent general, in order not to embarrass his army with prisoners, contented himself with disarming the Spanish garrisons, and left them free to retire wherever they pleased. This merciful policy formed too great a contrast with the rigorous system hitherto adopted by the government, not to produce a good result, whose effect was immediately felt; many officers and soldiers, natives of New Spain, offered their swords to the insurrection, and passed into the ranks of the Mexican army. One town alone still resisted the general movement and remained faithful to Spain; this town was Coahuila.
General Don López de Cárdenas, at the first insurrectionary movement, called in all the Spanish garrisons scattered through the other towns, which he despaired of defending effectually against the formidable forces of the insurgents, and shut himself up in Coahuila, resolved to bury himself beneath the smoking ashes sooner than open the gates to men whom he regarded as miserable rebels, deceived and seduced by a fanatic priest. After proclaiming independence in all the towns of the province, and establishing the national government, Don Pelagio led on Coahuila the forces at his disposal, which, as we said, had been largely augmented by the contingents constantly supplied by the liberals, and now rose to the really formidable number of 25,000 men.
The Mexicans reached the town after meeting with no further obstacle than a considerable cavalry corps, probably sent to reconnoitre, and which, after exchanging a few carbine shots with the vanguard, declined a contest and fell back. The town was immediately invested. General Cárdenas was not only an old soldier, but also a skilful strategist; in the prevision of a revolt, he had abundance of arms and ammunition at Coahuila, and so soon as he was shut up in the town, he had earth breastworks thrown up, and wide ditches dug. Hence a regular siege was about to begin against an enemy who was too well aware of the hatred he had aroused not to offer a vigorous resistance. The priest's first care was to trace a parallel, and throw up entrenchments. The flag of independence was haughtily hoisted on the jacal, which served as headquarters, and Don Pelagio summoned the town to surrender. On hearing the Mexican bugles, General Cárdenas appeared on the ramparts, surrounded by a large party of Spanish officers, smart as gold lace could make them.
"Who are you and what do you want?" he said in a haughty voice, addressing the officer who commanded the Spanish detachment.
This officer was Don Aníbal de Saldibar, whom General Sandoval had made his first aide-de-camp and major-general. Don Aníbal held in his hand his drawn sword, to the blade of which a white scarf was fastened.
"Who are you?" he answered; "I have orders only to address Don López de Cárdenas, commanding the town."
"And governor of the province," the general interrupted sarcastically.
"The province no longer recognizes the power of the Spanish government."
"Indeed," he said; "and pray what do you want with General Cárdenas?"
"I can only tell that to himself."
"Well, speak without further delay, for he is listening to you."
Don Aníbal bowed.
"I have orders," he said, "to summon you to surrender the town immediately to General Don Pelagio Sandoval, commander-in-chief of the Mexican forces of the province of Coahuila."
"Ah, ah!" said the general, biting his moustache.
"General Sandoval," Don Aníbal continued, "invites you to arrange an interview with him in order to discuss the terms of the capitulation."
General Cárdenas could not stand this any longer; the demands of the insurgents seemed to him so absurd, that he burst into a laugh, in which his officers joined. Don Aníbal was not at all affected by this unseasonable hilarity; he stood coldly with folded arms, waiting till the general thought proper to become serious again.
"Well, my good fellow," the latter said presently; "are you still there?"
"Certainly, General, and shall remain till you are pleased to answer me."
"Diablos, your pretensions are too exaggerated. Learn that I know no other army in New Spain but the Spanish. As for the cuadrilla of bandits surrounding the town at this moment, and the cabecilla who commands it, to whom you dare give the title of general, listen carefully to this: I do not treat with rebels, wretched slaves who have revolted against their masters. I consented to listen to you to the end, and not have you shot at once, but do not try my patience too far. Retire and be careful not to be the bearer of such messages in future, for a misfortune would happen to you; that is the only answer I can and will give you. Now, make haste to be off, if you do not wish me to give the order to treat you as you deserve."
"Take care, General," Don Aníbal answered intrepidly, "the struggle you are hurrying on is an impious one, the cause you defend is a lost one. Through humanity, if not through conviction, spare the useless shedding of innocent blood, which will fall on your head."
"Send a couple of bullets at that chatterer," the general said with a shrug of his shoulders, as he turned to the troops present at this interview.
The soldiers obeyed, and several bullets, badly aimed, perhaps purposely so, whistled portentously past the ears of the brave hacendero. The latter, who had fully heard the order given by the general, did not attempt to avoid them, but merely removed the white scarf from his sword and threw it from him.
"Of what use is a flag of truce," he said, "when you have to deal with hangmen who despise the law of nations. Farewell, General Cárdenas; I had forgotten the name which the inhabitants of this province have branded you with; you have just reminded me of it." After bowing ironically to the Spaniards, he made a sign to his escort to follow him, and retired with a slow, calm step, as if he had nothing to fear from the man whom he thus outraged. The general had raised his head and opened his mouth, probably to give some terrible order; but he succeeded in restraining himself. He smiled cunningly as he looked after the flag of truce who had so audaciously braved him, and, as he left the ramparts, said —
"Come, caballeros, we will return to the cabildo. The bark of those scoundrels is worse than their bite. I trust before long to prove to them that they were right to christen me 'the Shark.'"
Don Aníbal returned to the jacal, where Father Sandoval was waiting for him, surrounded by his staff. The general of the insurgents knew perfectly well that the summons he sent his enemy would remain unanswered, or, if he deigned to give one, that it would be of an insulting nature; but he thought himself bound to take this step, in order to have right entirely on his side, by forcing General Cárdenas, with whose character he was thoroughly acquainted, to commit one of those bloodthirsty acts to which he was accustomed. Such a deed would permit him to make every effort to carry the town and capture the general, of whom he purposed to make an example. Father Sandoval's calculations were perfectly correct. General Cárdenas had not hesitated to give orders to fire on a flag of truce. He had done even more, as the Mexican officers soon learned from the formidable clamour that ran along the whole army.
During the skirmish which took place a short distance from the town, the Spaniards took six or seven prisoners – poor peons, not so well mounted as their comrades, and who had not been able to rejoin the army so speedily as they might have liked. These prisoners were taken into the town, and as ill luck would have it the general perceived them as he entered the cabildo. On seeing them he could not restrain his fury, but ordered that they should at once be led to the ramparts, and hung in the sight of the Mexican army. In vain did the officers try to dissuade him. The general was inexorable, and the poor fellows were hung without any trial. They heaved their last sigh at the very moment when Don Aníbal de Saldibar entered the jacal, and the army burst into a fearful clamour, which caused the Mexican general and his officers to shudder with horror and passion.
The siege consequently began under mournful auspices. Every insurgent who fell into the hands of the Spaniards was hung on the ramparts. General Cárdenas had sworn to make a wall of corpses round the town. On their side, the Mexicans mercilessly massacred the hapless Spaniards whom the chances of war delivered into their hands. It was in vain that Padre Sandoval implored his comrades to spare their enemies. The exasperation of the Mexicans was at its height, and they remained deaf to the prayers and orders of their chief. At the same time the Spanish general defended himself like a lion. Every patch of ground gained by the insurgents was disputed inch by inch, and cost streams of blood.
The town had been invested for seven days, and as yet there was no prospect that it would be soon captured. On the eighth day, Father Sandoval received a copy of the treaty signed by General Iturbide and the Viceroy O'Donojú. This treaty stated substantially that Mexico was declared independent, on the condition of establishing a constitutional and representative monarchy, of which a member of the family of the Spanish Bourbons should be nominated King. The Viceroy understood the critical position in which the interests of the home country were placed, and despairing completely to preserve to Spain the possession of this rich colony, he skilfully turned the question, so as to save as much as he could.