A CONSPIRACY.
The sun, which had been nearly on the level of the horizon, soon
disappeared; his disc was no longer visible through the branches; the
evening breeze in fitful gusts agitated the foliage, and the birds
rapidly regained their roost for the night. The atmosphere was sensibly
refreshed, and though light remained on the plain, the thickets and
shrubbery were already shadowed by twilight. The mosquitoes buzzed by
myriads over the ponds and lakes, the greenish and stagnant water of
which was agitated by the movements of the reptiles. Already some dull
growls had troubled the silence of the desert, announcing the awakening
of the animals, saluting, on emerging from their secret lairs, the
setting of the sun.
The three men were sitting in the underwood, which began to be shrouded
in darkness. The Pincheyra had gone to seek his horse, which had been
left near those of the gauchos, to feed on the fresh grass and the
young roots of trees.
"Shall we light a fire?" asked Mataseis.
"What for?" asked Don Pablo.
"Why, first to see clearly, and then to warm ourselves."
"To say nothing of the glare of the fire keeping off the wild beasts,"
added Sacatripas.
"And attracting the red and white spies who are roaming about," said
the partisan with irony. "Are you afraid?"
"Afraid--of what?" said Mataseis.
"I do not know--of your shadow, perhaps?"
"Never--neither my brother nor I--we have no fear," said the gaucho, in
a harsh voice.
"Ah; not even that of rapping your knuckles in striking flint and
steel," pursued the Pincheyra in a tone of sarcasm; "then I offer
you my compliments, caballeros; for I have many a time had that fear
myself."
The gauchos understood the raillery, and frowned.
"Is it to babble like drivelling old women, or to talk on serious
matters, like true men, that we are here?" asked Mataseis in a sulky
tone.
"That is good, señor caballero!" cried Don Pablo laughing. "¡Vive Dios!
How you take fire at an innocent joke!"
"I don't call that joking," said the gaucho drily.
"Come, calm yourself, valiant caballero; I shall be henceforth serious
as an Indian chief, as you wish it; well then, I think it will be best
not to light a fire."
"Then, do not light it--it is quite indifferent to me; but though the
conversation may be a short one, we shall be benumbed with cold by the
time it is over."
"I do not say no, but prudence demands that we take the greatest
precautions. We are not here on an open hill, where the eye, ranging
without hindrance on either side, enables the approach of an enemy to
be seen by the simple undulation of the grass. We are, on the contrary,
crouched like wolves in the underwood, enveloped on all sides by walls
of foliage. Remember the axiom of the desert, the justice of which has
many a time been shown: 'In the forest, trees have ears, and leaves
have eyes;' how can we know that spies are not roaming about in the
shadows? The light of a cigar would be enough to attract them; the
matters of which we have to converse are too grave for us to run the
risk, when we can avoid it, of being surprised and overheard."
"You are right; I will not argue any more. Now I beg you come to the
point without more delay."
"Are you free?"
"Free as birds; free as air."
"You have broken your engagement with Don Emile?"
"This very morning."
"If that is the case, I can understand your game with the knife."
"With all respect to you, señor, you do not understand it at all."
"Bah! Don Emile, in dismissing you, has given each of you a pretty good
sum. Naturally, you have played while waiting for me, and thence the
wound on the cheek."
"Well, señor, you are not at all right: although there is some truth in
what you say, you have nevertheless made a serious mistake, which it is
my duty to correct."
"Well, let us have it. I am all ears."
"Well, Don Emile has certainly dismissed us; he offered each of us four
ounces, which he owed us for a month's salary."
"Of course you accepted it?"
"That is where you are wrong, señor. We refused it."
"You refused it? Oho! That tale is rather too good for me, gentlemen."
"It is, nevertheless, strictly true."
"Well, you doubtless had a motive for so acting?"
"Yes; this was it. On receiving Don Emile's money we engaged on our
honour, according to the treaty we had with him, not to endeavour to do
him any injury for the course of a month."
"¡Caspita! That is certainly serious. And you had the courage to
refuse?"
"Not to betray our consciences, and to preserve our liberty of action,
yes, señor!"
"We are caballeros," added Sacatripas, "and you know, señor, for a
caballero, honour is everything."
"¡Caspita! I know it," cried Don Pablo, bowing with an ironical smile,
which, thanks to the increasing darkness, passed unperceived by the
gaucho. "Do you know, caballeros, the more I reflect, the more I think
your action was magnificent."
"We have only done our duty," modestly answered Mataseis.
"That is true; but how many others in your position would have pocketed
the ounces!"
The two fellows were delighted at these mocking compliments, which they
took, or rather pretended to take--for they were not fools--like so
much ready money.
"Every good action merits reward," continued the Pincheyra, "and sooner
or later that reward comes. You shall now have a proof of it," added
he, taking out a little bag made of Spanish wool, the rotundity of
which was pleasant to see, from under his poncho; "you have given proof
of a disinterestedness and a loyalty which show me that you really are
caballeros. You have refused four ounces; well, I shall be pleased to
give you ten."
"Oh, caballero," cried the bandits.
"I know what you are going to say to me," pursued Don Pablo; "you
were going to assert that every good action carries in itself its own
reward."
"Yes, señor; you have guessed what we mean," cried Mataseis, with
enthusiasm. This, however, was not at all what he thought.
"But I do not agree with that," continued Don Pablo, "I should like you
thoroughly to understand that I know how to appreciate an action like
yours."
He then opened the bag without appearing to notice that the bandits
gloated on it, delicately introduced his long and slender fingers into
its mouth, and took out just the sum promised.
"There, my braves," said he, sharing the sum between them, and at the
same moment pocketing his purse; "there is your money."
The gauchos held out their hands, seized the money, and put it into
their large pockets with a thrill of pleasure, mixed, however, with a
little bitterness at the thought that it would have been easy, and much
more profitable, to take the eight ounces from Don Emile; but people
cannot think of everything. They found out their want of cleverness too
late.
"Now let us return to business," coolly said Don Pablo, unceremoniously
stopping the speech of the gauchos, who seemed to consider themselves
bound to offer exaggerated specimens of gratitude; "have you quite
decided to serve me?"
"We have," answered Mataseis, in his own name and that of his brother.
"Here is the matter, then; for motives, which I need not tell you, I
wish to seize two persons who, having set out a few days since, are to
meet, in company with several others, at about twenty leagues from the
spot where we are, the rendezvous having been arranged beforehand."
"Good! That can be done!"
"But it is more difficult than you suppose. Unhappily, it is impossible
for me to employ the men of my own squadron; they are too well known,
and the secret would immediately transpire."
"Who are these two persons?"
"The first is a Frenchman."
"Don Emile!" cried the gaucho.
"You have not guessed it; on the contrary, I believe that this
Frenchman is the mortal enemy of Don Emile."
"So much the better!" answered Mataseis with affectation; "I should
have been much annoyed at being his enemy."
"He is such a good young man!" said Sacatripas, like an echo.
The Pincheyra smiled.
"This Frenchman is named, I believe, Dubois, or something of that sort."
"Yes, yes; we know him. He arrived in this country, where he now enjoys
considerable influence with the government, only, a few months ego. He
came from Chili, if my memory does not deceive me."
"It is just this man with whom we have to do. Do you think you will
find any difficulty in seizing him?"
"Not the least. Now for the other."
"The other is General Don Eusebio Moratín."
"Who is about to be chosen president of the republic?"
"The same."
"Hum! It is a serious matter."
"Very serious--I have already warned you of that."
"General Moratín is a good patriot--a man of some consideration, and
much liked--he is one of the pillars of the revolution."
"It is just for that reason that I wish to get him out of the way,"
said Don Pablo, impatiently.
"To get rid of him. Do you wish to kill him, then?"
"To kill him, or take him--it matters little, so that he disappears how
the affair is managed."
"And the other?"
"The question is the same for both."
"The devil!" murmured the gaucho, scratching his head furiously
apparently to find a solution.
"That will be very costly, will it not?"
"Two good patriots!" continued Mataseis, without appearing to have
heard Don Pablo's remarks; "We also are patriots; we have gloriously
shed our blood for liberty."
"It will cost a great deal, as far as I can see."
"Oh, my dear country!" cried Sacatripas, raising his hands and his eyes
to Heaven with mock enthusiasm.
Don Pablo stamped with rage. He knew very well how to take the
patriotic sentiments of the two fellows; and although he himself was
not a man of much delicacy in such matters and in many others, this
ridiculous squeamishness disgusted him. However, it was necessary for
him to conceal his disgust, for he had now advanced too far to retreat.
"Oh!" cried Mataseis, "Such a proposition--to us!"
"To caballeros!" exclaimed Sacatripas, covering his face.
"So you refuse?" coldly said the Pincheyra, making a movement to rise.
"We do not say that!" quickly cried Mataseis, retaining him by the
poncho.
"We never said that," echoed Sacatripas.
"Only at the thought of committing this action, our heart bleeds."
"We must, however, decide," pursued Don Pablo; "however agreeable your
company may be, I cannot remain all night with you. I thought you were
intelligent men, free from prejudices; that is why I chose you for
this business. If it is not agreeable to you to serve me, consider
that I have said nothing about it. I will propose it to others less
scrupulous, who will be charmed at thus earning a hundred ounces, which
is a pretty sum."
"What was it you said, señor?" sharply cried Mataseis.
"I said a hundred ounces," coolly answered Don Pablo; "as times go,
gentlemen, you ought to look twice at that before refusing 1700
piastres (£212). Money becomes more and more scarce, and if the
revolution only lasts two years more, we shall not be able to get any
at all."
"True, señor; we live in very unfortunate times."
"Yes, yes, very unfortunate," added Sacatripas, in tears.
"Come, decide; is it yes or no," said Don Pablo, in a peremptory tone.
"I will add, by-the-bye, if that will calm your honourable scruples,
that these two men, with regard to whom you are so tender, are only
going to the rendezvous of which I have spoken with the design of
betraying what you call your republic."
"Oh, oh! Are you quite certain of what you say, señor?" asked
Sacatripas, breathing like a man on the point of drowning, and who
suddenly raised his head above the water.
"There is nothing more certain; besides, as you will probably be
present at the interview they are to have with the Brazilian general--"
"What! Are they thinking of treating with the Brazilians?"
"They simply wish to sell their country to Brazil."
"Ah, look at that, my dear fellow," exclaimed Sacatripas; "that, it
seems to me, considerably alters the matter."
"Changes it completely," answered the latter.
"We shall do the work of good patriots by arresting a traitor."
"By frustrating a horrible plot," exclaimed Sacatripas, with a gesture
of horror.
"And you gain one hundred ounces, which cannot do you any harm."
"And we gain one hundred," cried Mataseis, eagerly; but suddenly
stopping and biting his lips, "Oh! Believe us, señor," said he, with
compunction, "that the love of our country alone animates us in this
matter. We have no other interest than this--to save our country from
the abyss into which traitors wish to hurl it."
"No other than that," added Sacatripas, who made a point of modelling
all he said on that of his brother.
"That is agreed," said Don Pablo, bowing; "so it is now agreed--you
accept?"
"We accept; we must serve our country whenever occasion offers, but we
want some instructions."
"I am ready to give you all you require."
"First; how are we to proceed?"
"As to that, that is your affair. I leave the choice of means entirely
to you; the result alone concerns me. You are very intelligent
caballeros, endowed with a very fertile imagination; quite accustomed
to this sort of affair, in which you have acquired great experience. I
do not doubt that, if you will give yourself the trouble, you will come
out of the affair with honour."
"You flatter us, señor; but the business seems to us a thorny one."
"Very thorny," said Sacatripas, shaking his head.
"Bah! It requires a little skill, that is all. You are known for good
patriots. In the escort, you will probably meet friends, or, at least,
acquaintances; no difficulty will be made in receiving you, and when
the occasion presents itself, well--you will seize it!"
"That's it--we will seize it. Is it important to kill them?"
"Upon my word--that is your business. Provided that you give me an
undeniable proof that you have accomplished your mission, I shall not
require anything else. You will see, you will reflect. Prisoners are
often very embarrassing in the desert when you have not enough men to
guard them, so that they cannot attempt to escape. But you will do as
you shall think best."
"That is to say, that we have carte blanche?"
"Just so."
"Good! It is well to understand one another, in order that we may not
commit errors which will have to be much regretted. Where do you think
we shall meet our two personages."
"As to that, you cannot make a mistake. They come from Tucumán, and
will, of course, take the bank of the Rio Dulce, as there is no other
practicable path."
"Have they already set out?"
"I will not be certain, but I think so."
"Very well; we will join them. That will be neither long nor
difficult, as we have only to retrace our steps--which we are going to
do this very evening--for we by no means care to pass the night in the
place in which we are."
"Well put, my master."
"When our mission shall be terminated, we shall probably have to give
you an account of it, if it is only--"
"To take your money," interrupted Don Pablo.
"It is not that that I wished to say," quickly replied Mataseis, whose
concealed thought, however, it was--for he was not sorry to see the
prospect of the promised reward. "If it be only, I was saying, to give
you an account of what has happened--to give you up the prisoners, if
we have them--or, at least, to give you the proofs that you wish of
their arrest."
"Just so; we must see each other again. Oh! That will be very easy; why
cannot you go as far as Casa-Frama?"
The gauchos made a grimace. This proposition by no means pleased them;
it was putting themselves under the paws of the lion.
"It is very far," observed Mataseis. "The roads are very bad; the
journey would occasion us an irreparable loss of time."
"Yes, and then," said the Pincheyra, smiling, "great as is the
confidence you have in me, it does not go so far as to induce you to
place yourself entirely at my mercy. I understand your hesitation."
"Oh, señor I do not think--"
"I do not think anything, and you give me no offence, I assure you.
In this world it is good to be prudent, and so far you are right. To
come to Casa-Frama would necessitate your making a journey which,
in the event of your bringing the prisoners with you, would be very
troublesome. This rendezvous would be worth nothing. I prefer to give
you another."
"Whatever it is, caballero, we accept it with the greatest pleasure."
"I am sure of it. You, of course, know the town of Cordova?"
"On the Rio Primero--yes, señor."
"It is not far from the Rio Dulce?"
"About twenty leagues at the most."
"That's it. Well, at about two leagues from Cordova, coming from the
Rio Dulce, there is a tambo."
"The tambo del Almendral--we know it well; there are two magnificent
almond trees before the door."
"That's it. Well, your expedition terminated, proceed directly to this
tambo. I will wait for you."
"We shall take care not to fail, caballero."
"I wish, before leaving you, to give you a proof of the confidence
which I have in you."
"A confidence which shall be justified, do not doubt it, señor."
"I have promised you one hundred ounces each, have I not?"
"Yes, señor, one hundred ounces each," said the bandits, whose eyes
flashed with covetousness.
Don Pablo again took from under his poncho the Spanish wool purse, and
took from it a certain number of pieces of gold.
"Here are twenty-five ounces each," said he, presenting them, "which I
beg you to accept as an earnest of our bargain."
"Oh, señor!" they cried, pocketing the money joyfully; "There is no
necessity for that."
"I know you too well not to be assured of your complete
disinterestedness," he answered; "but we do not know what may happen.
Perhaps you will have expenses to incur, so that you had better have
funds. Now, gentlemen, we have not, I think, anything more to say. I
shall have the honour, then, of taking leave of you, for I have far to
go before I get any repose for the night."
"We, too, are going to set out, señor, and if you are going our way, we
shall be happy to have your company as far as possible."
"Whatever direction you take," answered he, frowning, "that which I
take is diametrically opposite to it."
"That is enough, señor," answered Mataseis, in an offended tone.
"Do not misunderstand my words," resumed Don Pablo, who saw his
mistake; "the success of the affair in which we are engaged demands
that no one should know of the relations which exist between us.
Otherwise, I should be delighted and honoured by taking advantage, for
a longer time, of your agreeable company."
The gauchos bowed deferentially. Matters being thus arranged on a good
footing, Don Pablo hastened to saddle his horse, and immediately leaped
on his back.
"Adieu, señores," said he, bowing slightly to them. "Before separating,
permit me to say a last word."
"Speak, señor."
"Well, if I am satisfied with the way in which you shall accomplish
your mission, bear this in mind--the twenty-five ounces that I have
given you shall not be taken from the sum I have promised you--you
understand? Au revoir."
And spurring his horse, he emerged from the thicket, leaving the
gauchos there, in a state of jubilation impossible to describe.
"Eh! Eh!" cried Mataseis, rubbing his hands; "this day's work has not
been bad--what do you say, my dear fellow?"
"I think it is capital," answered Sacatripas.
"Yes, yes," said the other, with some remains of rancour, "because you
have done me out of ten ounces."
"Do not let us speak anymore of that; the affair has been settled."
"Yes, on my face, by an ugly scratch."
"Do you complain of that? It is so skilfully made, that you look like a
guapo (bravo) of Santiago."
"I do not complain of it, but it smarts very much."
"Bah! Tomorrow you will think nothing of it."
"I hope so, indeed. Shall we go? It is already late."
"Nearly half past six; how the time passes in talking!"
"Yes, and in reckoning money," said Mataseis, laughing.
"Well, let us go then; we shall have the advantage of moonlight some
part of the way, which will be all the better, as our horses are tired."
They then saddled their horses.
"I did not think Don Pablo Pincheyra was so generous," said Sacatripas,
while placing the harness on his horse.
"Nor I either; he has been represented to me as an avaricious man."
"The death of these two men must be a matter of great importance to
him."
"That is just what I think. By-the-bye, shall we kill them or not?"
"What should we do with them? They would embarrass us."
"Bah! Let us kill them; in that way we should not fear their escaping."
"That is the surest way; an affair like this ought not to be done by
halves."
"Well, we will decide on that--we will kill them."
"We will kill them."
After having thus come to an agreement, the two bandits lighted their
cigars, mounted on horseback, and took the road which would take them
out of the wood, where this dark plot had just been conducted.