The Gold-Seekers: A Tale of California. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
return to Guadalajara with you?"
"No, child; you will live at my large hacienda, Aguas Frescas, with your mother and my most faithful servants, during the period of my absence; for so soon as I have ended the urgent business that demands my presence at San Blas, I shall go to Mexico and join General Santa Anna. His Excellency has done me the honour to send for me."
"Oh!" she said, clasping her hands in entreaty, "you ought to take me with you to the ciudad."
"Little madcap, you know perfectly well that is impossible; but on my return I will bring you and your mother the finest things from the Portales des Mercaderes and the Parian, in order that you may eclipse the most coquettish señoras of Tepic, when it may please you to walk on the Alameda of the Pueblo."
"Oh! That is not the same thing," she said with a charming pout; "and yet," she added, suddenly regaining her good humour, "I thank you, father; for you are kind – you love me; and when you do not satisfy my whims, it is because you find it impossible."
"I am glad that you recognise that fact, and at length do me justice, little rattle-brain; for you spend your life in teasing me."
The girl began laughing, and by a sudden impulse letting her reins fall, she threw her arms round her father's neck and kissed him several times.
"Take care what you are about," the colonel said, at once happy and alarmed. "If Rebecca were to bolt you would be killed. Take up your reins at once, I say!"
"Nonsense!" she said, laughing, and shaking her brown tresses carelessly; "Rebecca is too well trained to behave in such a way."
Still she caught up her reins and settled herself in her saddle.
"Angelita mia," the father continued, perhaps more seriously than the circumstances demanded, "you are no longer a child. You ought to begin to grow more reasonable, and moderate the vivacity of your character."
"Do you scold me for loving you, my father?"
"Heaven forbid, my child! I only make a remark which I consider just; for, if you yield in this way to your first impressions, you will prepare great grief for yourself at a future day."
"Do not think that, my kind father. I am quick, careless, impressionable, that is true; but, by the side of those defects, I have the family pride I derive from you, and which will defend me from many faults."
"I hope so, my daughter."
"Do not assume that stern air for a harmless act of folly, father, or I shall fancy that you are angry with me." Then she added, with a laugh, "I remember that our family descends in a straight line from the Mexican king, Chimalpopocatzin, who, as his name indicates, had for his emblem a buckler from which smoke is issuing. You see, father, our character has not degenerated since that valorous king, and we have ever remained as firm as he was himself."
"Come, come," the colonel said good-humouredly, "I shall give up scolding you in future, for I see that it is labour wasted."
The girl smiled maliciously, and was about to reply, when a flash of light was seen in front of the party.
"What is that?" the colonel asked, raising his voice. "Is there anyone on the road?"
"I think so, colonel," one of the domestics answered at once, "for that flash seems to me produced by the flint of a mechero.
"That is my opinion too," the colonel said. "Let us hasten on, in order to see this delayed smoker."
The little band, which had hitherto proceeded at a slow pace, broke into an amble. At the expiration of an hour, at the same time as the sound of a horse's hoofs reached the travellers, they also heard the shrill and discordant sounds of a jarana (guitar), and the refrain of the following song, so familiar in Mexico, was borne on the breeze: —
"Sin pena vivamos
En calma feliz:
Gozar es mi estrella,
Cantar y reir."1
"Bravo!" the colonel shouted, who reached the singer at this moment. "Bravely and joyously said, comrade!"
The latter, with a husk cigarette in his mouth, bowed his head in affirmation, and defiantly twanged an air on his jarana; then, throwing it across his shoulder, where it was held by a species of brace, he turned to his addresser, and ceremoniously doffed his vicuna-skin hat.
"May God protect you, caballero!" he said politely. "It seems that the music pleases you."
"Greatly," the colonel answered, scarce able to retain his laughter at the sight of the singular person before him.
He was a tall fellow of eight-and-twenty at the most, marvellously thin, dressed in a ragged jacket, and haughtily folded in a cloak, whose primitive colour it was impossible to recognise, and which was as full of holes as a sieve. Still, in spite of this apparent wretchedness and starving face, the man had a joyous and decided expression about him, which it was a pleasure to look upon. His little black eyes, which looked as if pierced by an auger, sparkled with humour, and his manner had something distingué about it. He was mounted on a horse as thin and lanky as himself, against whose hollow flanks beat the straight sword called a machete, which the Mexicans continually wear at their side, passed through an iron ring instead of a sheath.
"You are very late on the road, compañero," the colonel continued, whose escort had by this time caught him up. "Is it prudent for you to travel alone at this hour?"
"What have I to fear?" the stranger replied. "What salteador would be such a fool as to stop me?"
"Who knows?" the colonel remarked with a smile. "Appearances are often deceitful, and it is not a bad plan to pretend poverty, in order to travel in safety along the high roads of our beloved country."
Though uttered purposelessly, these words visibly troubled the stranger; still he at once recovered, and continued in a hearty voice, —
"Unfortunately for me, any feint is useless. I am really as poor as I seem at this moment, although I have seen happier days, and my cloak was not always so ragged as you now see it."
The colonel, perceiving that the subject of conversation was disagreeable to his new acquaintance, said, —
"As you did not stop either at San Pedro or at Zapopan, for I presume that, like myself, you came from Guadalajara – "
"It is true," the stranger interrupted him; "I quitted the city about three in the afternoon."
"I suppose," the colonel continued, "that you intend to halt at the mesón of San Juan; so, if you have no objection, we will proceed thither together, for I intend to halt for the night there."
"The mesón of San Juan is a good hostelry," the other said, respectfully lifting his hand to his hat; "but what shall I do there? I have not an ochavo to expend uselessly, and have far to go. I will bivouac on the road; and while my horse, poor brute, is sucking its bit, I will smoke cigarettes, and sing that romance of King Rodrigo, which, as you are aware, commences thus."
And quickly bringing his guitar to the front, he began singing in a loud voice, —
"Cuando las pintadas aves
Mudas están, y la tierra
Atenta escucha los rio
Que al mar su tributo llevan:
Al escaso resplandor – "2
"Eh!" the colonel exclaimed, brusquely interrupting, "what musical rage possesses you? It is frenzy."
"No," the singer replied in melancholy mood; "it is philosophy."
The colonel examined the poor fellow for a moment; then drawing nearer to him, —
"I am Colonel Don Sebastian Guerrero de Chimalpos. I am travelling with my daughter and a few servants. Grant me the honour of your company for this night: tomorrow we will separate, and go our several ways."
The stranger hesitated for a moment, and frowned. This shade of dissatisfaction, however, soon disappeared.
"I
Let us live without annoyance in a happy calm: playing is my star, singing and laughing.
When the spangled birds are dumb, and the attentive earth listens to the rivers that bear their tribute to the sea by the weak light – .