INSIDE THE HACIENDA.
Although since the beginning of the civil war the Hacienda del Barrio
had frequently served as headquarters for the insurgents of New Spain,
and, for this reason, had sustained several regular sieges from the
government troops, who twice took it by storm, still, in the interior
at least, but slight changes had taken place since the time when we
first introduced the reader to it.
Still this house, which at that time was almost a country mansion,
had become a real fortress, a deep and wide fosse had been dug round
that side of the walls which might be accessible, and the threatening
muzzles of several heavy guns peeped out of the embrasures, to avoid a
surprise and defend the approaches to the hacienda. The trees had been
felled for a radius of nearly a mile all round, the scarped path which
ran round the hill and led to the gateway had been dug up in several
places so as to render the approach still more difficult, and the
drawbridge had been placed in working order.
On entering the hacienda the adventurers and travellers were received
by a caballero, who paid them the greatest attention. It was the
proprietor of the hacienda, Don Aníbal de Saldibar. The eleven years
which had elapsed since our prologue had produced but very slight
effect on his vigorous organization. A few wrinkles had formed on the
hacendero's wide forehead, here and there a few threads of silver were
mingled with his black hair, but that was all. He was still upright,
and his eye was bright as ever. He and Don Aurelio had been long
acquainted, and appeared to feel a sincere friendship for each other.
"You and the gentlemen who accompany you are welcome," Don Aníbal
exclaimed as he warmly pressed his friend's hand; "you could not have
arrived more opportunely. Had it not been for you, I know not how
matters would have ended."
"Well, I hope," Don Aurelio said, warmly returning the pressure; "are
we the first at the meeting?"
"On my word, nearly so, there are very few persons here as yet. You
know how difficult the communications are, and what a system of
espionage Señor Apodaca, his Excellency the Viceroy of New Spain, has
invented. It is a perfect inquisition. Every suspicious individual is
immediately arrested, so that our friends are obliged to act with the
greatest prudence."
"In fact, we have unhappily reached that point when one half the
population plays the spy on the other."
"Well, enough on this head for the present. You and your friends must
need rest. Allow me to conduct you myself to the cuartos which have
been prepared for you by my orders."
"On my word, I confess to you that I accept your offer with the same
frankness in which it is made."
Don Aníbal then led his guests to spacious and rather comfortable
furnished apartments, where he left them at liberty to behave as they
thought proper, informing them that refreshments would be brought them
directly; then he left them, in order to receive other persons who
arrived at the hacienda at the moment. In fact, scarce had Don Aníbal
left, ere the door opened to make way for several footmen, loaded with
trays covered with refreshments of every description. The Sumach, after
bivouacking his adventurers in a corral, rejoined Don Aurelio, with
whom remained only one of his servants, namely, Viscachu, in whom he
seemed to have the greatest confidence.
Our four friends, that is to say, Don Aurelio, Moonshine, the Sumach,
and Viscachu, sat down to the table, and did honour to the refreshments
sent by Don Aníbal, in a manner which would have assuredly pleased him,
had he seen it. Viscachu, doubtless through humility, was seated a
little away; he alone ate moderately, rather as a man who does not wish
to be guilty of want of courtesy, than as a man who had just ridden
ten leagues, and whose appetite must have been sharpened by recent
and vigorous exercise. When the travellers' hunger was appeased, the
conversation, which had, at, the outset, been languishing, became more
animated, and naturally turned on the master of the house in which the
guests were assembled. Moonshine, after lighting his pipe, addressed
Don Aurelio.
"Will you allow me," he said to him, "to ask you a few questions with
reference to our host?"
"I see no reason why you should not," the Mexican replied; "I shall be
even pleased to give you all the information you wish about him that I
am in a position to supply."
"These questions will be quite general," the Canadian continued. "My
friend and I are strangers, and as it is probable that circumstances
will oblige us to make a rather lengthened stay in this country, I
confess to you that we should be glad to have certain information about
persons with whom chance may bring us into contact, which will enable
us to act toward them in such a way as will not hurt either their
feelings or their interests."
"The fact is," Oliver Clary said in support, interrupting his words
with numerous puffs of smoke, "the country is so extraordinary, all
that goes on in it so far surpasses anything I have hitherto seen, that
I am quite of my countryman and friend's opinion."
"As you please. To begin, I presume that you would like to know
something about our host."
"You have hit it, caballero," both men said, with a polite bow.
"Nothing is easier, the more so because I am a distant relative of
Don Aníbal, and am better able than most persons to give you the
information you require."
"Excellent," the Sumach said, as he threw himself lazily back in his
chair.
"I think nothing equal to a good story after a jolly breakfast," said
Moonshine, as he rested his elbows on the table, and prepared to listen.
Don Aurelio delicately rolled a husk cigarette between his fingers, lit
it, and then went on as follows:--
"It is scarce midday," he said; "it is probable that we shall not be
disturbed till four o'clock, for Don Aníbal is at this moment occupied
in receiving the numerous visitors who are arriving from all parts of
the province. We have four hours before us, which we cannot employ
better; so listen to me."
After this sort of introduction, the Mexican summoned up his
recollections for a few minutes, and then went on like a man prepared
to tell a long story:--
"Don Aníbal Heredia Gómez de Alvarado y Saldibar is what we call in
this country a _Cristiano viejo_, that is to say, his blood has never
crossed, during ages, with that of the Indians; he is descended in
a straight line from that famous Don Pedro de Alvarado to whom Don
Hernando Cortés entrusted the government and command of the city of
Mexico, when he was compelled to proceed to Veracruz, to fight Don
Pamfilo de Narváez, whom Don Diego Velasquez, Governor of Cuba, sent
against him, and who passed with all his men under the flag of the
conqueror. You will see from this rapid sketch that Don Aníbal comes
from a good stock. When Hernando Cortés had completed the conquest
of Mexico, he divided the vast territory among all his lieutenants.
Don Pedro de Alvarado, owing to his fidelity to the Conquistador,
was naturally the best provided for, and he soon found himself in
possession of an enormous fortune. This fortune, being well managed,
augmented in the course of time, and thus at the present day Don Aníbal
is not only one of the richest landowners in New Spain, but in the
whole world. This colossal fortune was further increased, some sixteen
years back, by Don Aníbal's marriage with Doña Emilia de Aguilar, my
cousin, sixth removed. Doña Emilia was at that period seventeen years
of age, and one of the loveliest girls in the province."
Don Aurelio paused for a few seconds, and then continued--
"Here there is a grand gap, not in my recollection, but in the
information I have been able to collect. At the period to which I
allude some interesting business forced me to make a voyage to the
Havana, so that I only heard on my return that Don Aníbal had drawn
on himself the hatred of certain Indians established on his estates;
that these Indians, expelled by him, had sworn to avenge themselves,
which they tried several times, but unsuccessfully. While this was
going on, Hidalgo, the curé of Dolores, raised the standard of revolt,
and summoning the population under arms, began that long war of
independence which is not yet terminated. Although of Spanish origin,
Don Aníbal, whose whole fortune consists of land and mines, and whom
the triumph of the revolution would irremediably ruin if he obstinately
remained faithful to the Spanish government, either through interest or
conviction, or through these motives united, joined the insurrection,
and became one of its most devoted adherents. The house in which we
are at this moment, perfectly situated, as you can see, and tolerably
well fortified to resist a surprise, has several times served as
headquarters for the insurgents. Once was Don Aníbal surprised suddenly
by the Spaniards; the hacienda was so completely and rapidly invested
that Don Aníbal had not the time, as he had intended, to send Doña
Emilia and her child, who was then hardly eighteen months old, to Leona
Vicario. Both, therefore, remained with him, and then a frightful
affair, which has never been properly cleared up, took place. A snake
was conveyed into the garden of the hacienda by an Indian, as was found
by the trail discovered on the sand, and the bag of tapir hide he
left behind. How this Indian contrived to elude the vigilance of the
sentinels no one ever knew. Still it is a fact that this snake, without
doing the slightest hurt to the infant, attacked the nurse, whose
milk it sucked with a horrible frenzy. The wretched girl died almost
immediately after in fearful convulsions, and Doña Emilia, who was a
witness of the tragedy, not having the strength to endure it, went mad."
"Oh!" the hearers exclaimed, with a terror mingled with horror, "that
is fearful."
"Is it not?" Don Aurelio said sadly.
"And what became of the unhappy mother?" Moonshine asked with interest.
"Did she remain mad?" the adventurer added.
"No," the Mexican continued, "the unfortunate lady recovered her
reason, or, at least, after two years of assiduous care, she appeared
to do so, for, since the scene I have described to you, she has
constantly suffered from terrible crises, which succeed each other with
a strength and energy that continually grow greater."
"Poor woman!" Viscachu muttered.
"Oh, yes, poor woman!" Don Aurelio continued. "Don Aníbal, although
he would not let it be seen, adored his wife. The misfortune which
burst on him like a thunderclap, by revealing to him all the immensity
of his passion, deprived him of the strength any longer to conceal
it. All the time that Doña Emilia's madness lasted, the devotion and
self-denial he displayed were sublime. When she at length recovered her
senses, he ordered all his servants not to restrain her in any way, but
to let her act as she pleased, without even questioning or troubling
her. A strange change had taken place in Doña Emilia's character; this
woman or girl--for she was hardly eighteen years of age when the
misfortune happened--so kind, gentle, timid, and graceful, became a
lioness thirsting for carnage, only dreaming of combats, and having one
fixed idea, that of incessantly pursuing the redskins, and pitilessly
destroying them wherever she met them. Employing the liberty her
husband granted her, she frequently disappeared from the hacienda for
whole weeks, taking her daughter with her, from whom she never parts,
and whom she has trained in her own feelings of hatred and revenge; and
both remained absent all this time, and no one was able to discover
what became of them, or what they were doing; then the mother and
daughter would return with smiling faces and tranquil demeanour, as if
nothing extraordinary had occurred."
"And now?" Moonshine interrupted.
"I believe that the same thing goes on now," the Mexican continued,
"and that Doña Emilia has not given up her wanderings. Don Aníbal,
whom her absence terribly alarmed, has tried several times to prevent
them, but he found that the precautions he took to keep his wife at
home rendered her so unhappy that he preferred letting her act as she
thought. However, for some reason unknown to me, the Indians feel such
a superstitious terror of her that her mere appearance suffices to put
them to flight, however numerous they may be, as has been witnessed on
several occasions."
"It is extraordinary," Oliver Clary muttered.
"And the young lady?" Moonshine asked.
"She is now nearly fifteen years of age, and her name is Diana. She
is an exquisite creature, light and graceful, fair-haired, and her
eyes reflect the blue of heaven; but, beneath this delicate appearance
she conceals an indomitable energy, and an incredible firmness of
character. Educated by her mother, as I told you, she adores and only
obeys her, although she has a deep and sincere friendship for her
father, and evinces the greatest respect for him. Still, Don Aníbal,
I feel persuaded, however energetic he may be, would not venture to
contend with her, for he would be certain beforehand of defeat. The
young lady is, therefore, quite her own mistress, and hence never
leaves her mother; but the singular thing is that these two females,
who understand each other so thoroughly, have admitted a third person
to their friendship."
"A third," the Canadian said; "who is it?"
"That is the strangest thing of all; he is a tall, well-built, powerful
young fellow of about two and twenty, whom Don Aníbal brought back some
twelve or thirteen years ago from an expedition against the Indians,
and there is every reason for believing that he is a redskin himself.
This person's name, or rather the name given him, is Melchior Díaz.
Gifted with prodigious strength and unequalled activity and Excellency
in all manly exercises, this young man is the darling of Don Aníbal,
who sees with secret despair the approaching extinction of his name,
for he has no son, and is, consequently, the last of his race. Hence he
has bestowed on this young man, who, I must allow, is in every respect
worthy of it, through the goodness of his heart and the rectitude of
his mind, the affection he would feel for a real son; on the other
hand, being forced to consent to leave his wife and daughter their
liberty, he is glad to know they have such a devoted defender, for
Melchior accompanies them in all their expeditions. Several times Don
Aníbal has tried to obtain from the young man some information as
to their nature, but the latter has been impenetrable, intrenching
himself behind the oath he says he has taken never to reveal anything
that relates to Doña Emilia. Now, how is it that this lady, who
has such an inveterate hatred for the Indians, has taken into her
friendship this young man, who, I repeat, is assuredly a redskin, and
is so attached to him that she will not let him leave her for a moment?"
"And what does Doña Diana think of this young man?" the hunter asked.
"Diana is a child knowing nothing of life; she believes that Melchior
is her brother, for they were brought up together, and she feels a
frank friendship for him."
"But the young man," Moonshine said searchingly, "does he know that he
is not Doña Diana's brother?"
"I am not aware, but it is probable that Don Aníbal or Doña Emilia has
informed him of his origin."
"Is he at the hacienda at this moment?" the Sumach asked.
"I cannot tell you. I have not been here for several months, and so do
not know what is going on. But I hear a footstep in the corridor, and I
doubt not but that we are going to be interrupted."
In truth, a light footstep was audible on the outside, coming nearer
and nearer to the room in which the travellers were. At length the door
opened, and a peon appeared.
"Pardon, señores," he said, after bowing ceremoniously, "Don Aníbal de
Saldibar, my master, requests you to follow me to the grand hall, where
all the caballeros are assembled."
"We are at Don Aníbal's orders," Don Aurelio said, as he rose.
His companions imitated him, and all four went out after the servant.