The Flying Horseman. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
have shown how his appeals had been heard, and had moved Zeno Cabral to attempt a last effort.
When the partisan found himself at last upon firm earth, his first movement was to thank God for his marvellous deliverance; then tendering his hand to Emile, who, at the first glance, he perceived to be the master of those who had brought succour to him:
"Thank you, señor," he said; "thanks to you, I am saved; but there are other unhappy ones."
"I know it, caballero," interrupted the young man. "A numerous troop of travellers are at this moment still exposed to terrible danger; with the aid of God, we shall save them."
"You believe so?" joyously cried the partisan.
"I hope so, at all events, señor: for several hours already my companions and myself have been working. Come; your aid will not be useless."
Zeno Cabral followed him with readiness.
He gave utterance to a cry of joy, on perceiving the bridge which the painter bad succeeded in throwing from one side to the other of the gulf.
The work was nearly finished; the plank alone remained to establish. This was the affair of half an hour.
"Do you think, now," asked the young man, "that your companions will risk themselves on this bridge?"
"Oh, that will be only play to them," responded the partisan.
"Cross the bridge, then; clear a passage through the ruins left by the avalanche. Then, arrived on the other side, you will only have to open in the earth heaped up on the rock a trench enough for a passage of a horse."
"Will you not come with me?"
"What's the good? Better that you should go alone. Our sudden presence would cause great surprise among your friends."
"That's reasonable; in the fainting state in which they are, perhaps that would cause serious consequences. Au revoir, then, and to our speedy meeting."
The young man took the hand of the Frenchman a last time, and set out on the bridge, which he traversed in a minute.
Meanwhile the Pincheyras, who had had a moment's hope when they had seen Don Zeno Cabral, with such skill and such cool bravery, launch himself into the precipice to attempt to find a passage, suddenly felt that hope extinguished in their hearts, when all of a sudden the tree on which the adventurous young man was holding rolled into the abyss.
In vain Don Pablo, whose indomitable courage had not been cast down by this terrible blow, attempted at several times, now in chiding, then in exciting them, to galvanise his companions, and to awaken in them a spark of bravery. All was useless; the instinct of self-preservation, the last sentiment which stands in the human heart, and which supports it in the most horrible crises, was extinct in their hearts.
Don Pablo, disheartened by this torpor into which the soldiers had fallen, and acknowledging the impossibility of raising them from it, crouched at the foot of the barricade, and there, his arms crossed over his chest, awaited death.
The tempest had sensibly diminished; the sky had cleared up; the wind only blew in gusts, and the fog, as it dissipated, permitted them to descry the landscape, which presented so many features injured by the storm, and the desolate aspect of which, if it were possible, added more to the horror of the situation in which the travellers were.
"We must have done with this," murmured Don Pablo; "since these brutes are incapable of helping us, and as terror paralyses them, I will leave them, if it must be so, to their fate; but, as I hope for heaven. I swear I will save these two unfortunate ladies."
Whilst speaking thus, the partisan raised himself, and, throwing around him a last look, he prepared to go to the ladies, who were lying in a fainting state.
On a sudden the branches of the barricade, pushed back by a vigorous hand, separated rudely behind him, and Don Zeno leaped into the path. At sight of him a total change took place in the troop. At the sight of Zeno Cabral, whom they believed to be dead, the partisans leaped up as though stricken by an electric shock, and hope, re-entering their breasts, gave them back all their courage.
Don Pablo had no occasion to order them to set themselves to work; they rushed on the barricade with a desperate ardour, and in less than a half-hour every obstacle had disappeared. The earth, the rocks, the very trees were thrown into the gulf, with the partisans' cries of joy exciting one another to see who should do the most work.
The horses and the mules, held by the bridle by their masters, crossed the bridge without much difficulty, and soon found themselves in safety in the valley.
A litter had been made to transport the two ladies, still fainting; they were placed in the tambo, on a bed of dry leaves, covered with skins and cloaks, and then confided to the intelligent care of Tyro.
Don Pablo, perceiving his old prisoner, uttered a cry of surprise.
"What!" cried he, "you here, Don Emile?"
"As you see," answered the young man.
"Then it is to you that we owe our safety?"
"After God, it is to me that you owe it, señor."
The partisan looked at the Frenchman with admiration.
"Is it possible," murmured he, "that such great and noble natures exist? Don Emile," said he, "I have done you serious injury; I persecuted you during all the time that you were at Casa-Frama, without any real reason. My conduct has been despicable; you ought to hate me, and you save me!"
"Because, Don Pablo," answered the young man, "you are a man in the true sense of the word; because your faults are those necessitated by the life you lead; because every good feeling is not dead within you, and your heart is generous. I do not claim the right of being more severe than God, and of condemning you to perish, when a hope of saving you existed."
"This obligation that you impose on me, Don Emile, I accept with joy. You have a better opinion of me than I dared to have of myself. I will try to show myself, for the future, worthy of what you have done for me today."
"You were acquainted with one another?" said Don Zeno.
"A little," answered Don Pablo.
The conversation ceased here for the time. The partisans proceeded to arrange their camp, and to prepare their breakfast, of which, now that they were saved, they began to feel the want. Emotions, in the desert, for a time overcome hunger; the danger passed, hunger returns.
CHAPTER IV
DIPLOMACY
Meanwhile the storm had abated, the sky became cloudless, and the sun burst out with a warm glow that was very welcome.
Emile, after having confided the two ladies to the care of the Guarani, had left the tambo, oppressed by a sad apprehension.
At first, carried away by the vivacity of his disposition, he had, at the peril of his life, tried to save men threatened with a frightful death; but, the danger passed, all the difficulty of his position suddenly appeared to him.
The young man's position was critical; an event impossible to foresee had destroyed all his plans. The storm, in thus coming to the aid of the Pincheyras, obliged the Frenchman to adopt a system of dissimulation incompatible with his loyal character.
However, there was no other means than that; he must adopt it. The young man resigned himself to it – against his will, it is true – hoping that perhaps fate might weary of persecuting the two weak creatures whom he wished to serve.
A prey to by no means pleasurable thoughts, Emile, with his arms crossed behind his back, and his head leaning on his breast, paced with an agitated step the open space before the tambo, when he heard himself called several times in a loud voice.
He raised his head. Don Zeno and Don Pablo Pincheyra, seated side by side on the banks of a ditch, made a sign to him to join them.
"What do these demons want with me?" murmured he, in his manner of speaking to himself in a low tone. "They are certainly two good specimens of scoundrels. Ah!" said he, with a sigh, "How happy was Salvator Rosa – he who could at his ease paint all the brigands that he met!