No need saying that the cavalcade seen passing the copse is the lancer
troop of Colonel Uraga.
Some thirty hours before, they ascended to the Staked Plain, and are now
nearly across it. Guided by the traitor, they had no need to grope
their way, and have made quick time. In a few hours more they will
pounce upon the prey for which they have swooped so far.
The two men concealed in the grove expect them to ride on without
stopping, till out of sight. Instead, they see them draw up at a few
miles distance, though all remain mounted. Two separate from the rest
keep on a couple of hundred yards ahead, then also halt.
These are Uraga himself, with his adjutant Roblez.
'Tis only a temporary pause to exchange counsel about the plan of
proceeding--as a falcon expands itself in the air before its last flight
towards the quarry it has selected.
Before separating from his followers, Uraga has summoned to his side the
youngest commissioned officer of the troop, saying,--
"Alferes! go back to that Indian! Send the brute on to the front here."
Manuel is the individual thus coarsely indicated.
Told that he is wanted, the peon spurs his mule forward, and places
himself by the side of the commanding officer, who has meanwhile
dismounted.
In the countenance of the Indian there is an expression of conscious
guilt, such as may appear in that of one not hardened by habitual crime.
There is even something like compunction for what he is about to do,
with remorse for what he has already done. Now that he is drawing near
the scene, where those betrayed by him must suffer, his reflections are
anything but pleasant. Rather are they tinged with regret. Don
Valerian Miranda has been an indulgent master to him, and the Dona Adela
a kind mistress. On both he is bringing destruction.
And what is to be his reward? From the time of his betraying them, the
moment he parted with the secret of their hiding-place, he has lost
control of it.
He is no longer treated with the slightest respect. On the contrary, he
to whom he communicated it behaves to him as conqueror to conquered,
master to slave, forcing him forward with sword pointed at his breast,
or pistol aimed at his head.
If a guide, he is no longer looked upon as a voluntary one. Nor would
he be this, but for a thought that inspires, while keeping him true to
his treasonous intent. When he thinks of Conchita--of that scene in the
cotton-wood grove--of the Texan kissing her--holding her in his fond
embrace--when the Indian recalls all this, torturing his soul afresh,
then no more remorse, not a spark of regret, not a ray of repentance!
No; perish the dueno--the duena too! Let die the good doctor, if need
be--all whom his vengeance has devoted!
"Sirrah! are those the two peaks you spoke of?"
It is Uraga who puts this interrogatory, pointing to a pair of twin
summits seen rising above the horizon to eastward.
"_Si Senor Coronel_; they are the same."
"And you say the path leads down between them?"
"Goes down through a gulch, after keeping round the cliff."
"And there's no other by which the valley may be entered?"
"Your excellency, I did not say that. There is another entrance, but
not from the upper plain here. A stream runs through, and cuts it way
out beyond. Following its channel through the _canon_, the place can be
reached from below; but not after it's been raining. Then the flood
fills its bed, and there's no path along the edge. As it hasn't rained
lately, the banks will be above water."
"And anyone could pass out below?"
"They could, Senor Coronel."
"We require to observe caution, Roblez," says Uraga, addressing himself
to the adjutant; "else we may have made our long journey for nothing.
'Twill never do to enter the cage and find the birds flown. How far is
it to the point where the river runs below?"
The question is put to the peon.
"_Cinco leguas, Senor_; not less. It's a long way to get round, after
going down the cliff."
"Five leagues there, and five back up the canon of the stream--quite a
day's journey. If we send a detachment round 'twill take all of that.
Shall we do it?"
"I don't think there's the slightest need for wasting so much time,"
counsels the adjutant.
"But the Indian says any one going down the defile between those hills
can be seen from the house. Supposing they should see us, and retreat
by the opening below?"
"No need to let them see us. We can stay above till night, then descend
in the darkness. As they're not likely to be expecting visitors, there
should be no great difficulty in approaching this grand mansion
unannounced. Let us make our call after the hour of midnight, when,
doubtless, the fair Adela will be dreaming of--"
"Enough!" exclaims Uraga, a cloud suddenly coming over his countenance,
as if the words of his subordinate recalled some unpleasant souvenir.
"We shall do as you say, _ayadante_. Give orders for the men to
dismount. We shall halt here till sunset. Meanwhile, see that this
copper-skin is closely kept. To make safe, you may as well clap the
manacles on him."
In obedience, Roblez takes the Indian back to the halted troop, directs
him to be shackled; then gives the order for dismounting.
But not for a night camp, only for a temporary bivouac; and this without
fires, or even unsaddling of the horses. The troopers are to stay by
the stirrup, ready at any moment to remount.
There stay they; no longer in formation, but, as commanded, silent and
motionless; only such stir as is made by snatching a morsel from their
haversacks or smoking their corn-husk cigarritos.
Thus till near sundown, when, remounting, they move on.