The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
enough, therefore, to excuse if I refuse your gracious invitation, for which, however, I feel as grateful as if I had accepted it."
"I will not press you, señor, though I should have been flattered to have you as a guest: it is settled then that we are to remain here a little while longer?"
"As long as you please, señor: I repeat that I am at your orders."
After this exchange of politeness the two speakers separated, the old gentleman re-entered the rancho, and the officer went out to give his squadron orders to bivouac.
The soldiers dismounted, picketed their horses, and began strolling about, smoking a cigarette, and looking at everything with the restless curiosity peculiar to Mexicans.
The officer whispered a few words to a private, and the latter, instead of imitating the example of his comrades, remounted his horse and went off at a gallop.
About ten in the morning, the servants of Don Antonio de Carrera put the horses to the berlin, and a few minutes after the old gentleman came forth.
He gave his arm to a lady, so wrapped up in her veil and mantua that it was literally impossible to see anything of her face or divine the elegance of her form.
So soon as the young lady was comfortably seated in the berlin, Don Antonio turned to the officer who had hurried up to him.
"We will start whenever you please, señor lieutenant," he said to him.
Don José bowed.
The escort mounted: the old gentleman then entered the carriage, the door of which was closed by a footman who seated himself by the side of the coachman: four other well armed valets got up behind the carriage.
"Forward!" the officer shouted.
One half the escort went in front, the other half formed the rear guard. The driver lashed his horses, and carriage and horsemen soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.
"May heaven protect them," the ventero muttered, as he crossed himself and tossed in his hand two gold ounces given him by Don Antonio: "the old gentleman is a worthy man, but unfortunately Don José Dominquez is with him, and I am greatly afraid that his escort will be fatal to him."
CHAPTER III
THE SALTEADORES
In the meanwhile the carriage rolled along the Orizaba road, surrounded by its escort. But at a little distance from that town it turned off and reached by a short cut the Puebla road, along which it advanced in the direction of the defiles of Las Cumbres: while going at full speed along the dusty road, the two travellers caroused.
The lady who accompanied the old gentleman was a girl of sixteen or seventeen years at the most; her delicate features, her blue eyes bordered by long lashes which, in falling traced a brown semicircle on her velvety cheeks, her straight nose with its pink or flexible nostrils, her small mouth, whose coral lips when parted allowed a glimpse of her pearly teeth, her slightly dimpled chin, her pale complexion rendered even paler by the silky tresses of raven hair which surrounded her face and fell on her shoulders, produced one of those pale and attractive countenances, which are only seen in equinoctial countries, and which, while not possessing the piquancy of the frail beauties of our northern climes, have that irresistible attraction which makes one dream of the angel in the woman, and produces not only love but adoration.
Gracefully reclining in a corner of her carriage, half buried in masses of muslin, she allowed her eyes to wander pensively over the country, only answering absently and in monosyllables the remarks which her father addressed to her.
The old gentleman, though he affected a certain assurance, appeared, however, rather restless.
"I tell you, Dolores," he said, "all this is not clear in spite of the repeated affirmations of the heads of the Veracruz government, and the protection they feign to grant me. I have no confidence in them."
"Why not, papa?" the young lady asked carelessly.
"For a thousand reasons: the principal one is that I am a Spaniard, and you know that unfortunately at the present time, that name is a further motive for the hatred the Mexicans feel against Europeans generally."
"That is only too true, papa, but permit me to ask one question."
"Pray do so, Dolores."
"Well, I should like you to tell me the urgent motive which induced you to leave Veracruz suddenly, and take this journey with me, more especially, when usually you never take anyone with you on your excursions."
"The motive is very simple, my child, serious interests claim my presence at Mexico, where I must be as soon as possible. On the other hand, the political horizon is daily growing darker, and I reflected that a residence at our Hacienda del Arenal might become ere long, dangerous for our family. I therefore have resolved that, after leaving you at Puebla with our relation Don Luis de Pezal, whose god-daughter you are, and who loves you dearly, to push on to Arenal, where I shall take up your brother Melchior, and convey you to the capital, where it will be easy for us to find effectual protection, in the event, unhappily too easy to foresee, of the constituted power being suddenly overthrown and that of Veracruz substituted for it."
"And you have no other motive, but that, papa?" the young lady said, leaning forward, with a slight smile.
"What other motive could I have but what I have just told you, my dear Dolores?"
"You see I do not know, papa, since I ask you."
"You are a curious niña," he continued laughingly, shaking his finger at her, "you would like to make me confess my secret."
"Then you have a secret, papa?"
"That is possible; but for the present you must be satisfied with knowing so much, for I shall not tell it to you."
"Really, dear papa?"
"I pledge you my word."
"Oh, in that case I will not press you. I know too well that when you put on your big voice and knit your brows, it is useless to do so."
"You are a madcap, Dolores."
"No matter. I should have liked to know why you assumed a false name for this journey."
"Oh! I have no objection to tell you that: my name is too well known, as that of a rich man, for me to venture to carry it across country when so many bandits are swarming on the roads."
"You had no other motive?"
"No other, my dear child: I believe that is sufficient, and that prudence urged me to act as I have done."
"Very good, papa," she replied, shaking her head with a pout: "but," she suddenly exclaimed, "I fancy, papa, that the carriage is slackening its speed."
"It is true," the old gentleman answered, "what is the meaning of this?".
He pulled down the glass and thrust out his head, but could see nothing: the berlin was at this moment entering the defile of the Cumbres, and the road made so many winds, that it was impossible to see more than thirty yards before or behind. The old gentleman called up one of the servants who rode close to the carriage.
"What is the matter, Sanchez?" the traveller asked. "I fancy we are not going so fast as before."
"That is true, señor amo," Sanchez answered, "since we left the plain, we have not been advancing so rapidly, though I do not know the reason: the soldiers of our escort appear alarmed, and are talking together in a low voice, while incessantly looking round them: it is evident that they fear some danger."
"Could the salteadores or guerillas who infest the roads think of attacking us?" the old gentleman said with ill-disguised anxiety, "Pray inquire, Sanchez – Hem! The spot would be capitally chosen for a surprise, still, our escort is numerous, and unless they have an understanding with the bandits, I doubt whether the latter would venture to bar our way. Come, Sanchez, cross-question the soldiers adroitly, and report to me what you learn."
The servant bowed, checked his horse to let the carriage pass him, and then prepared to carry out the commission with which his master had intrusted him.
But Sanchez caught up the berlin again almost