The Bee Hunters: A Tale of Adventure. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
the present circumstances it was certainly not this consideration which induced the cavalier to act as he was doing. He had a powerful motive, with which we shall become acquainted presently; for, in spite of his feigned indifference, it was only with a sentiment of lively disgust that he seated himself beside the bandit.
As to the latter, we feel ourselves bound in justice to state that he had only one feeling of regret—the shame of having missed his blow; but he promised himself, in petto, to take his revenge as soon as possible, and this time to take such sure precautions that he must succeed.
"What are you thinking of?" demanded the cavalier, all of a sudden.
"I? On my honour, nothing," was the ingenuous reply.
"You would deceive me. I know what you are thinking of at this very moment."
"Oh, as for that, permit me to tell you—"
"You were thinking of killing me," said the cavalier, interrupting him abruptly.
The other returned no answer; he contented himself with muttering between his teeth—
"What a devil! He reads the most hidden thoughts. One is not safe beside him."
"Will you answer honestly, and frankly, the questions I am about to put to you?" resumed the cavalier, after a time.
"Yes; as well as lies in my power."
"That is to say, just so far as your interest does not lead you to lie."
"Confound it, señor, no one likes to make war upon oneself! No one ought to force me to speak ill of myself."
"You are right. Who are you?"
"Señor," replied the other, raising himself proudly, "I have the honour to be a Mexican, My mother was an Opata Indian; my father a caballero (gentleman) of Guadalupe."
"Very well; but I learn nothing from this about yourself."
"Alas, señor!" was the reply, given in that whining tone the Mexicans know so well how to adopt, "I have been unfortunate."
"Oh, you have met with misfortunes! Well, pardon me once more. You have forgotten to mention your name."
"It is a very obscure one, señor; but since you desire to know it, here it is: I am called Tonillo el Zapote—at your service, señor."
"Thanks, Señor Zapote. Now proceed; I am listening."
"I have followed many trades in my day. I have been by turns lepero (vagabond), muleteer, husbandman, soldier. Unhappily, I am of a quick temper: when I am in a passion, my hand is very ready."
"And heavy," said the cavalier, with a smile.
"It is all the same; so much so, that I have had the misfortune to bleed five or six individuals who had the imprudence to pick a quarrel with me. The Juez de letras (magistrate) was annoyed; and under the pretence that I was guilty of six murders, he asserted I deserved the garotte; so, seeing my fellow citizens misapprehended me—that society would not appreciate me at my real value—I took refuge in the desert, and turned hunter."
"Of men?" interrupted the cavalier in a tone of sarcasm.
"By Heavens! Señor, times are hard: the Gringos pay twenty dollars for a scalp. It is a pretty sum; and, on my honour, particularly so when want presses. But I never have recourse to these means except in the direst extremity."
"It is well. And now tell me, do you know me?"
"Very well by report; personally, not at all."
"Have you any reasons for hating me?"
"I have already the honour to tell you—none."
"In that case, why have you attempted to assassinate me?"
"I, señor?" cried he, showing signs of the utmost astonishment; "I assassinate you? Never!",
"What, fool!" exclaimed the cavalier, lowering his brows, "Dare you maintain such an imposture? Four times have I served as a target to your rifle. You have drawn trigger upon me this very day, and—"
"Oh! By your leave, señor," said El Zapote with warmth, "that is quite a different thing. True, I fired at you; it is even likely I shall fire at you again; but never, as I hoped for Paradise, have I dreamed of assassinating you. For shame!—I, a caballero! How could you form so bad an opinion of me, señor?"
"Then what was your intention in firing at me?"
"To kill you, señor; nothing more."
"Then in this case murder is not assassination?"
"Not in the slightest degree, señor; this was business."
"What! Business?—The rogue will make me go mad, upon my soul!"
"By Heaven, señor, an honest man must stick to his word."
"If it is to kill me?"
"Exactly so," answered El Zapote. "You can understand that, under the conditions, I was compelled to keep my engagement."
There was a moment of silence; evidently the reasoning did not seem so conclusive to the cavalier as to the lepero.
Then said the former:
"Enough; let us have done with this."
"I ask no better of your seigneurie."
"You acknowledge, I suppose, that you are in my power?"
"It would be difficult to assert the contrary."
"Good! As, according to your own confession you have fired on me with the evident intention of killing me—"
"I cannot deny it, señor."
"In killing you, now you are in my power, I should only be making use of reprisals?"
"That is perfectly true, caballero, I must even confess that you could not possibly have a stronger reason for doing so."
His companion gazed at him in surprise.
"Then you are content to die?" said he.
"Let us understand each other," replied the lepero with avidity. "I am not at all content. On the contrary, I only know that I am a thorough gambler, that is all. I played; I lost; I have to pay. It is reasonable."
The cavalier seemed to reflect.
"And if, instead of planting my knife in your throat, even as you yourself acknowledge I have the right to do—"
El Zapote made a sign of assent.
"I were to restore you to liberty," continued the cavalier, "leaving you the power of acting according to your own impulse?"
The bandit shook his head sorrowfully.
"I repeat," he said, "that I would kill you. A man must stick to his word. I cannot betray the confidence of my employers; it would ruin my reputation."
The cavalier burst out laughing.
"I suppose you have been well paid for this undertaking?" said he.
"Not a great deal; but want makes many things be done. I have received a hundred piastres."
"No more?" exclaimed the stranger, with a gesture of disdain; "It is very little; I thought myself worth more than that."
"A great deal more, particularly as the undertaking was difficult; but next time I will take a silver bullet."
"You are an idiot, comrade. You will not kill me the next, any more than you did the other times. Think of what has occurred up to today. I have already heard your balls whistle four times about my ears: that annoyed me. At last I wished to find out who you were: you see I have succeeded."
"It is the truth. Now, after all, were you not aware of my being close to you?"