I was about to enter after them, when some words spoken by one of the
attendants, who had drawn nearer to the tent, arrested my steps, causing
me to remain outside.
"It's Lola Vergara," said the speaker; "that's who it is. Any one who
has had the good fortune to see that _muchacha_ once, won't be likely to
forget _her_ face, and won't object to look at it a second time."
"You're right in what you say, Anton Chico. I know one who, instead of
disliking to look at her beautiful countenance, would give an _onza_ for
a single glance at it. _Carrambo_! that he would."
"Who--who is he?" asked several of the party.
"That big captain of _guerilleros_--Rayas, his name. I know he'd like
to see her."
"Why, her brother belonged to his _cuadrilla_; and the girl was with him
in the camp. I saw her myself, not three days ago, down by Puente
National."
"That's quite true!" assented the speaker who had endorsed the
declaration of Anton Chico.
"She was with the army for some days, along with the other women that
followed Rayas's troop. But then all at once she was missed, and nobody
knew where she went to. Capitan Rayas didn't, I know; or why should he
have offered an onza to any one who would tell him?"
"He made that offer?"
"_Ver dad_! I heard him."
"To whom?"
"To that ugly _zambo_ you've seen skulking about the camp--who belongs
to nobody. It was at the Puente National, as I have said. I was
standing under the bridge--the dry arch at the further end. It was just
after dark; when, who should come there but Capitan Rayas, and the zambo
following him. They were talking about this very _nina_: and I heard
her name more than once. I did not hear much, for I had to keep a good
distance off, so that they might not see me. But I heard that."
"What?"
"What I've said about the offer of the onza. `Find out, Santucho,' said
Rayas--Santucho is the zambo's name--`find out where he has hid her.'"
"Who has hid her?"
"_Carrambo_! that's what I couldn't make out; but who, if it wasn't her
own brother?--Calros, they call him."
"There's something ugly in all that," remarked one of the men.
"It isn't the nina, that's certain," jocularly rejoined Anton Chico.
"The zambo, then! he's ugly enough. What say you, camarados?"
"The patron, who wanted to employ him, is no great beauty himself," said
one who had not before spoken. "Notwithstanding his fine trappings, he
has got some black marks against him. Look here, _hombres_," continued
the speaker, drawing nearer to the others, and adopting a more
confidential tone. "I'm a blind man, if I haven't seen his phiz before;
ay, and _tapado_ at that."
"Tapado?" echoed several.
"With black crape! It was only on my last trip but one up the country.
I went with the _recua_ of Jose Villares. He carried goods for that
English house--you know--in the Calle do Mercaderos. Well, we were
stopped at the Pinal, between Perote and Puebla; every mule stripped of
its _carga_; and every man of us, with Jose himself obliged to lie with
our mouths to the grass, till the rascals had rifled the _recua_. They
took only what was most valuable and easiest carried; but, _carrambo_!
it well nigh ruined poor Jose; he has never been the same _aniero_
since."
"What of all that, hombre?" inquired one, who seemed to be still
unsatisfied. "What has that to do with the Capitan Rayas?"
"Ah! I forgot," said the accuser; "it was of the Capitan Rayas we were
speaking. Well, it has this to do with him. The _salteadores_ were all
tapado, with black crape over their faces, their captain like the rest;
but while he was engaged examining some papers he took from Jose, I
caught a glance of his ugly countenance--just enough to know it again.
If it wasn't the same I saw the other day when I met this Rayas in the
camp, then I don't know _chingarito_ from holy water. I'll answer for
it from the chin up to the eyes. Above that I didn't see it, for the
tapado was over it."
"Bah!" exclaimed one of the men, who appeared to be of easy conscience
himself; "what if the Capitan Rayas has done a little business on the
road? There are officers in our army of higher rank than he who've
cried out, `_Boca abajo_!'--ay, some that are now generals!"
"Hush, camarade!" interrupted one who stood nearest the speaker. "See,
the medico's coming out. _Guardate, guardate_! it's treason you're
talking!"
The interest with which I had listened to this singular palaver, had
hindered me from entering the tent. The men had spoken loud enough for
me to overhear every word--no doubt under the supposition that I did not
understand their language--and to keep them in this belief, I had made
pretence of being engaged in a whispering conversation with one of my
own troopers who stood near.
As the return of the medico put an end to the talking of his attendants,
I advanced to meet him, and inquired the condition of his patient.
"Thanks to your care, cavallero, he is out of danger from his wound.
But from what he has confided to me--and to you also, I believe--he will
be in danger of another kind by remaining in this place."
I could tell from this speech that Calros had communicated to the
surgeon the incidents of the preceding night.
"How long do you keep guard here?" inquired the Mexican, with an
abstracted air.
"I am under orders to strike tents and march--exactly at noon."
"To Jalapa, I presume?"
"To Jalapa."
"In that case this young fellow must be carried back to the village of
El Plan. A body of your troops will likely remain there for some time?"
"I believe that is the intention of our commander-in-chief."
"Then the invalid would be safer there. It will do him no harm, if
taken upon a stretcher. I must lend him half-a-dozen of my assistants,
or pick up some stragglers to perform this service."
"He would be safer in Jalapa?" I suggested, interrogatively. "Besides,
the climate of Jalapa is much more favourable to the healing of wounds--
is it not?"
"That is true," answered the man of science; "but Jalapa is distant. We
have not a single ambulance in our army. Who is to carry him there--a
poor soldier?"
"A fine young fellow, notwithstanding. My men would not mind the
trouble of taking him, if you think--"
I looked round, in hopes that the proposal might be heard and approved
by another.
The Jarocha was standing in the entrance of the tent, her face beaming
with gratitude. No doubt it was due to the assurance which the surgeon
had given her of her brother's speedy recovery; but I fancied I could
perceive, in the sparkle of her beautiful eyes, a smile indicative of
consent to what I had proposed.
The surgeon comprehended not the cause of my friendly interest in the
welfare of the wounded Jarocho.
Did Lola comprehend it? Did she suspect it? Endowed with the keen,
delicate instincts of her race, it was probable she did; at least, I
fancied so, from the kindly look with which she had listened to my
suggestion.
After all, it might have been gratitude for my friendly intentions, and
nothing more.
"I see no objection to his going up the road," said the surgeon, after
having spent some little time in considering, "It is very kind on your
part, cavallero," added he--"a stranger and an enemy." Here the medico
smiled. "It is only a continuation of your humane exertions during the
past night."
A smile, almost imperceptible, accompanied this last observation,
together with the slightest raising of his eyes towards the Jarocha.
"Suppose," said he, continuing his speech, and relieving me from some
little embarrassment, "suppose we consult the wishes of the invalid
himself. What say you, senorita?"
"_Gracias, nores_," replied the girl. "I shall ask brother Calros."
"Calros!" she called out, turning her face towards the tent. "The young
officer who has been so kind to you proposes to have you carried up the
road to Jalapa. Would you like to go there? The medico says the air of
Jalapa will be better for you than this place."
With a fast-beating pulse I listened for the response of the invalid.
It was delayed. Calros appeared to be considering.
"Why?" I asked myself.
"_Ay de mi_!" broke in the voice of his sister, in a tone of ingenuous
reflection. "It is very hot at El Plan."
"Thanks, sweet Lola!" I mentally exclaimed, and listened for the
decision of Calros, as a criminal waiting for his verdict.
Story 1, Chapter XIII.