THE SURPRISE
They galloped thus till night without exchanging a word. At sunset they
reached a ruined _rancho_, standing like a sentry, on the skirt of the
road. The adventurer made a sign and the riders pulled up their horses.
A man came out of the _rancho_, looked at them, without saying a word,
and then went in again. Some minutes elapsed; the man reappeared, but
this time he came from behind the _rancho_, and was leading two horses
by the bridle. These horses were saddled. The adventurer and Dominique
leapt down, removed their _alforjas_ and pistols, placed them on the
fresh horses and remounted. The man returned a second time with two
other horses, which Loïck and López mounted. The man, still silent,
collected the bridles of the four horses, and went off dragging them
after him.
"Forwards!" don Jaime cried.
They set out once more. The silent and rapid ride recommenced. The
night was gloomy and the riders glided through the shadows like
phantoms. All night they galloped thus. At about five a.m. they changed
horses again at a half-ruined _rancho_. These men seemed made of iron;
though they had been fifteen hours in the saddle, fatigue had no hold
on them. Not a word had been exchanged between them during this long
ride.
At about ten o'clock in the morning, they saw the domes of Puebla
glittering in the dazzling sunbeams. They had covered one hundred and
twenty-six miles that separated that town from Mexico, in twenty hours,
along almost impracticable roads. At about half a league from the town,
instead of continuing to advance in a straight line, at a sign from
the adventurer, they turned off and entered a scarce traced path that
ran through a wood. For an hour they galloped after don Jaime, who had
taken the lead of the cavalcade. They thus reached a rather extensive
clearing, in the centre of which stood an enramada.
"We have arrived," said the adventurer, checking his horse and
dismounting. "We will establish our headquarters here temporarily."
His companions leaped down and prepared to unsaddle their horses.
"Wait," he continued. "Loïck, you will go to your _rancho_, where the
Count de la Saulay and his servants are at present, and bring them
here. You, López, will fetch our provisions."
"Are we two going to wait under this enramada, then?" Dominique asked.
"No; for I am going to Puebla."
"Do you not fear being recognized?"
The adventurer smiled. Don Jaime and the _vaquero_ were left alone.
They removed their horses' bridles so that they might graze freely on
the tender grass of the clearing.
"Follow me," said don Jaime.
Dominique obeyed. They went under the enramada. This is the name given
in Mexico to a species of shapeless hut formed of interlaced branches,
and covered with other branches and leaves; these tenements, though of
very paltry appearance, offer a very sufficient shelter against rain
and sunshine. This enramada, better built than the others, was divided
into two compartments by a hurdle of intertwined branches, which
mounted to the roof and divided the hut into two equal parts. Don Jaime
did not stop in the first compartment, but passed straight into the
second, still followed by Dominique, who for some moments past seemed
to be plunged into serious reflections. The adventurer disturbed a pile
of grass and dry leaves, and drawing his machete, began digging up the
ground. Dominique looked at him in amazement.
"What are you doing there?" he asked him.
"As you see, I am clearing the entrance of a vault; come and help me,"
he answered.
Both set to work. Ere long appeared a large flat stone, in the centre
of which a ring was fixed. When the stone was removed, steps, clumsily
cut in the rock, became visible.
"Come down," said the adventurer.
He had lighted a lamp by means of a lucifer match. Dominique cast a
curious glance around him. The spot where he was, situated some seven
or eight yards underground, formed a sort of octagonal hall of very
considerable dimensions; four galleries, which seemed to run further
underground, entered at so many different points. This hall was amply
supplied with weapons of every description; there were also harnesses,
clothes, a bed made of leaves and furs, and even books on a shelf
hanging against the side.
"You see one of my dens," the adventurer said with a smile. "I possess
several like this scattered all over Mexico. This vault dates from the
time of the Aztecs, and its existence was revealed to me several years
ago by an aged Indian. You are aware that the province in which we
now are, was anciently the sacred territory of the Mexican religion,
and temples swarmed on it; the numberless underground passages were
used by the priests to go from one place to another without being
discovered, and thus give greater force to miracles of ubiquity which
they pretended to accomplish. At a later date, they served as a refuge
to the Indians persecuted by the Spanish conquerors. The one we are
now in, which runs on one side to the pyramid of Cholula, and on the
other to the very heart of Puebla without counting other issues, was on
several occasions extremely useful to the Mexican insurgents during the
war of Independence--now its existence is forgotten, and the secret is
only known to myself and to you now."
The _vaquero_ had listened to this explanation with the most lively
interest.
"Pardon me," he said, "but there is one thing that I do not exactly
understand."
"What is it?"
"You told me just now that if anyone arrived by chance, we should be at
once warned?"
"Yes, I did say so."
"I do not at all understand how this can be."
"Very simply. You see that gallery, do you not?"
"Yes."
"It terminates with a sort of outlook about a yard square, covered
with shrubs, and impossible to detect at the very entrance of the path
by which it is alone possible to enter the wood; now, by a singular
effect of acoustics, which I shall not at all attempt to explain, all
sounds, of whatever nature they may be, even the slightest, which are
produced near that outlook are immediately repeated here, with such
distinctness, that it is most easy to recognize their nature."
"Oh! In that case I am no longer alarmed."
"Moreover, when the persons we expect have arrived, we will stop up
this hole, which will be useless to us, and leave by the gallery that
opens there in front of you."
While giving these explanations to his friend, the adventurer had
doffed a portion of his garments.
"What are you doing?" Dominique asked.
"I am disguising myself, in order to go and find out how matters stand
in Puebla. The inhabitants of that town are very religious; monasteries
are numerous there, and hence I am going to put on a Camaldoli dress,
by favour of which I can attend to my business without fear of
attracting attention."
The _vaquero_ had sat down on the furs, and was reflecting with his
back against the wall.
"What is the matter, Dominique? You appear to me preoccupied and sad?"
don Jaime asked him a moment after.
The young man started as if a viper had suddenly stung him.
"I am, in truth, sad, master," he muttered.
"Have I not told you that we shall find doña Dolores again?" he
continued.
Dominique quivered, and his face became livid; "Master," he said, as he
rose, and hung his head, "despise me, I am a coward."
"You a coward, Domingo! Good God, you speak falsely."
"No, master, I am telling the truth, I have misunderstood my duty,
betrayed my friend, and forgotten your recommendations." He gave a
profound sigh. "I love the betrothed wife of my friend," he added
feebly.
The adventurer fixed his bright eyes on him, "I was aware of it," he
said.
Domingo started and exclaimed in alarm, "You knew it?"
"I did," don Jaime continued, "And you do not despise me?"
"Why should I? Are we masters of our heart?"
"But she is betrothed to the count, my friend."
The adventurer made no answer to this exclamation. "And does she love
you in return?" he asked.
"How can I tell?" he exclaimed, "I have hardly dared to confess it to
myself."
There was a lengthened silence. While putting on his monastic garb, the
adventurer examined the young man aside. "The count does not love doña
Dolores?" he at length said.
"What! Can it be possible?" he exclaimed, hotly. Don Jaime burst into a
laugh.
"That is the way with lovers," he remarked, "they do not understand
that others have not the same eyes as themselves."
"But he is going to marry her?"
"He ought," he said, laying a marked stress on the word.
"Did he not come to Mexico expressly for the purpose?"
"It is true."
"Then you see he will marry her in that case."
The adventurer shrugged his shoulders.
"Your conclusion is absurd," he said. "Does a man ever know what he
will do? Does the morrow belong to him?"
"But since the misfortunes which have crushed doña Dolores' family and
herself, the count has been attempting impossibilities to save the
young lady."
"That proves that the count is a perfect gentleman and man of honour,
that is all. Besides, he is her relation, and is doing his duty in
trying to save her, even at the risk of his life and fortune."
Dominique shrugged his shoulders several times, "He loves her," he said.
"In that case I will turn the sentence; doña Dolores does not love
him."
"You think so?"
"I am sure of it."
"Oh, if I could only persuade myself of it, I might hope."
"You are a baby. Now I am off, and do you wait for me here: swear not
to leave this place till my return."
"I swear it."
"Good: I am going to work for you, so hope I shall return soon."
And giving him a last wave of the hand, the adventurer went off by a
side gallery.
The young man remained pensive so long as the sound of his friend's
retiring footsteps reached him, then he fell back on the bed of furs,
murmuring in a low voice, "He told me to wait."
We will leave Dominique plunged in those reflections which, judging
from the expression of his face, must have been agreeable, and follow
don Jaime on his adventurous expedition. As the vault was situated
about half a league from the town, don Jaime had that distance to go
underground before he found himself in Puebla. But this long walk
did not appear at all to alarm him: he proceeded at a round pace
along the gallery into which sufficient light penetrated by invisible
interstices, for him to be able to guide himself in the countless
windings he was forced to make. He walked thus for about three parts of
an hour, and at length reached the foot of a staircase, consisting of
fifteen steps.
The adventurer stopped a moment to draw breath, and then went up. When
he reached the top of the steps, he sought for a spring, which he soon
found, and pressed his finger on it. Immediately an enormous stone
became detached from the wall, moved noiselessly on invisible hinges,
and displayed a wide passage. Don Jaime stepped out and thrust back the
stone, which immediately resumed its first position in so perfect a
manner, that it was impossible, even with the most earnest attention,
to perceive the slightest crack or solution of continuity in the wall.
Don Jaime looked searchingly round him: he was alone. The spot where he
was was a chapel of the cathedral of Puebla. The secret door through
which the adventurer had passed opened on a corner of this chapel,
and was concealed by a confessional. These precautions were carefully
taken, and there was no risk of a discovery. Don Jaime left the church
and found himself on the Plaza Mayor. It was about midday, the hour of
the siesta, and the square was almost deserted. The adventurer pulled
the hood over his eyes, hid his hands in his cuffs, and with his head
hanging on his chest, and with a calm and contemplative step he crossed
the square and entered one of the streets that ran from it.
Oliver thus reached the gate of a pretty house, standing in its own
grounds, and which seemed to rise from the centre of a bouquet of
orange and pomegranate trees. As this gate was only on the hasp, the
adventurer pushed it, went in and closed the gate again after him.
He then found himself on the sanded walk that led to the door of the
house, which was raised by a few steps, and covered by a large verandah
in the Mexican fashion. Oliver looked suspiciously around him, but the
garden was deserted. He advanced; but instead of proceeding toward the
house he struck into a sidewalk, and after a few turns found himself
facing a door apparently belonging to the offices.
On reaching this spot Oliver took a silver whistle hanging round his
neck by a thin gold chain, raised it to his lips, and produced a sweet
and peculiarly modulated sound. Almost immediately a similar whistle
was heard from the interior, the door opened, and a man appeared. The
adventurer made him a Masonic sign, to which the other replied, and
followed him into the house. Without speaking, this man guided him
through several apartments till he reached a door which he opened to
let the adventurer pass through, while he remained behind.
The room into which Oliver was thus introduced was elegantly furnished,
large Venetian blinds interrupted the rays of the sun, the floor was
covered with one of those soft _petates_ which the Indians alone know
how to manufacture; a hammock of aloe fibre suspended by silver rings
from hooks of the same material divided the room in two. A man was
lying in this hammock fast asleep. It was don Melchior de la Cruz; a
knife with a curiously embossed silver hilt, with a wide long blade
sharp as a viper's tongue, was placed on a low sandalwood table within
reach, by the side of two magnificent revolvers.
Even in his own house, in the middle of Puebla, don Melchior thought it
right to be on his guard against a surprise or treachery. His fears,
however, were not at all exaggerated, for the man who is at that moment
before him might fairly be reputed one of his most formidable enemies.
The adventurer surveyed him for some minutes, then advanced softly
to the hammock without producing the slightest noise. He took the
revolvers, concealed them under his gown, seized the knife, and then
gently touched the sleeper. Though the touch, was so light, it sufficed
to arouse don Melchior. He at once opened his eyes, and stretched out
his arm to the table by a mechanical movement.
"It is useless," Oliver said to him, coldly; "the weapons are no longer
there."
At the sound of this well-known voice don Melchior sprang up as if
moved by a spring, and fixing a haggard eye on the man standing
motionless before him, he asked, in a voice choked by horror--
"Who are you?"
"Have you not recognized me yet?" the adventurer remarked, jeeringly.
"Who are you?" he repeated.
"Ah! You require a certainty: well, look!" and he threw back his hood
on his shoulders.
"Don Adolfo!" the young man muttered, in a hollow voice.
"Why this astonishment?" the adventurer continued, in the same mocking
voice. "Did you not expect me? Still, you should have supposed that I
would come to seek you."
Don Melchior remained for a moment as if lost in thought. "Be it so,"
he at length said, "After all it is better to come to an end once for
all," and he sat down again, apparently calm and careless, on the edge
of the hammock.
Oliver smiled. "Very good," he said; "I would sooner see you thus: let
us talk, we have time."
"Then you have not come with the intention of assassinating me?" he
asked, ironically.
"Oh! What a bad thought that is of yours, my dear sir! I raise a hand
against you! Oh, no! Heaven preserve me from it! That is the hangman's
business, and I should be most sorry to poach on the manor of that
estimable functionary."
"The fact is," he exclaimed, impetuously, "that you have entered my
house as a malefactor, in disguise, of course, to assassinate me."
"You repeat yourself, and that is clumsy; if I have come to you
in disguise it is because circumstances compelled me to take the
precaution, that is all: moreover, I only followed your example," and
suddenly changing his tone, he added--"by the by, are you satisfied
with Juárez? Has he rewarded your treachery handsomely? I have heard
say that he is a very greedy and mean Indian, and so, I suppose, he
contented himself with making you promises?"
Don Melchior smiled disdainfully.
"Did you thus privily enter my house only to talk such trash to me?" he
asked.
The adventurer rose, drew a revolver, stepped forward, and regarding
him with a look of indescribable contempt, shouted, in a voice of
thunder--
"No, scoundrel, I have come to blow out your brains if you refuse to
reveal to me what you have done with your sister, doña Dolores!"