The little bay of Ensenada, thus confided to the vigilance of Pepe the
sleeper, was mysteriously shut in among the cliffs, as if nature had
designed it expressly for smugglers--especially those Spanish
_contrabandistas_ who carry on the trade with a cutlass in one hand and
a carbine in the other.
On account of its isolation, the post was not without danger, especially
on a foggy November night, when the thick vapour suspended in the air
not only rendered the sight useless, but hindered the voice that might
call for assistance from being heard to any distance.
In the soldier who arrived upon this post, advancing with head erect and
light elastic tread, no one could have recognised Pepe the sleeper--
Pepe, habitually plunged in a profound state of somnolence--Pepe, of
downcast mien and slow dragging gait--and yet it was he. His eyes,
habitually half shut, were now sparkling in their sockets, as if even
the slightest object could not escape him even in the darkness.
After having carefully examined the ground around his post, and
convinced himself that he was entirely alone, he placed his lantern in
such a position that its light was thrown along the road leading to the
village. Then advancing some ten or twelve paces in the direction of
the water, he spread his cloak upon the ground, and lay down upon it--in
such an attitude that he could command a view both of the road and the
bay.
"Ah, my captain!" soliloquised the coast-guard, as he arranged his cloak
around him to the best advantage, "you are a very cunning man, but you
have too much faith in people who are always asleep; and devil take me!
if I don't believe that you are interested in my sleeping most soundly
on this particular night. Well, _quien sabe_? we shall see."
For about the period of half an hour Pepe remained alone--delivering
himself up to his reflections, and in turns interrogating with his
glance the road and the bay. At the end of that time a footstep was
heard in the loose sand; and looking along the pathway, the sentinel
perceived a dark form approaching the spot. In another moment the form
came under the light of the lantern, and was easily recognised as that
of Don Lucas, the captain of the coast-guard.
The officer appeared to be searching for something, but presently
perceiving the recumbent sentinel, he paused in his steps.
"Pepe!" cried he, in a low mincing voice.
No reply came from Pepe.
"Pepe!" repeated the captain, in a tone a little more elevated.
Still no reply from the sentinel, who remained obstinately silent.
The captain, appearing to be satisfied, ceased calling the name, and
shortly after retraced his steps towards the village. In a few seconds
his form was lost in the distance.
"Good!" said Pepe, as his superior officer passed out of sight; "just as
I expected. A moment ago I was fool enough to doubt it. Now I am sure
of it. Some smuggler is going to risk it to-night. Well, I shall
manage badly if I don't come in for a windfall--though it be at the
expense of my captain."
Saying this, the sentinel with one bound rose erect upon his feet.
"Here I am no more Pepe the Sleeper," continued he stretching himself to
his full height.
From this time his eyes were bent continually upon the ocean; but
another half hour passed without anything strange showing itself upon
the bosom of the water--nothing to break the white line of the horizon
where sea and sky appeared to be almost confounded together. Some dark
clouds were floating in the heavens, now veiling and now suddenly
uncovering the moon, that had just risen. The effect was fine; the
horizon was one moment shining like silver, and the next dark as funeral
crape; but through all these changes no object appeared upon the water,
to denote the presence of a human being.
For a long while the coast-guard looked so intently through the
darkness, that he began to see the sparks flying before his eyes.
Fatigued with this sustained attention, he at length shut his eyes
altogether, and concentrated all his powers upon the organs of hearing.
Just then a sound came sweeping over the water--so slight that it scarce
reached him--but the next moment the land-breeze carried it away, and it
was heard no more.
Fancying it had only been an illusion, he once more opened his eyes, but
in the obscurity he could see nothing. Again he shut them closely and
listened as before. This time he listened with more success. A sound
regularly cadenced was heard. It was such as would be made by a pair of
oars cautiously dipped, and was accompanied by a dull knocking as of the
oars working in their thole-pins.
"At last we shall see!" muttered Pepe, with a gasp of satisfaction.
A small black point, almost imperceptible, appeared upon the horizon.
Rapidly it increased in size, until it assumed the form and dimensions
of a boat with rowers in it, followed by a bright strip of foam.
Pepe threw himself suddenly _a plat ventre_, in fear that he might be
seen by those on the water; but from the elevated position which he
occupied, he was able to keep his eye upon the boat without losing sight
of it for a single instant.
Just then the noises ceased, and the oars were held out of water,
motionless, like some sea-bird, with wings extended, choosing a spot
upon which to alight. In the next instant the rowing was resumed, and
the boat headed directly for the shore of the bay.
"Don't be afraid!" muttered the coast-guard, affecting to apostrophise
the rowers. "Don't be afraid, my good fellows--come along at your
pleasure!"
The rowers, in truth did not appear to be at all apprehensive of danger;
and the next moment the keel of the boat was heard grinding upon the
sand of the beach.
"_Por Dios_!" muttered the sentinel in a low voice; "not a bale of
goods! It is possible after all, they are not smugglers!"
Three men were in the boat, who did not appear to take those precautions
which smugglers would have done. They made no particular noise, but, on
the other hand, they did not observe any exact silence. Moreover their
costume was not that ordinarily worn by the regular _contrabandista_.
"Who the devil can they be?" asked Pepe of himself.
The coast-guard lay concealed behind some tufts of withered grass that
formed a border along the crest of the slope. Through these he could
observe the movements of the three men in the boat.
At an order from the one who sat in the stern sheets, the other two
leaped ashore, as if with the design of reconnoitring the ground. He
who issued the order, and who appeared to be the chief of the party,
remained seated in the boat.
Pepe was for a moment undecided whether he should permit the two to pass
him on the road; but the view of the boat, left in charge of a single
man, soon fixed his resolution.
He kept his place, therefore, motionless as ever, scarce allowing
himself to breathe, until the two men arrived below him, and only a few
feet from the spot where he was lying.
Each was armed with a long Catalonian knife, and Pepe could see that the
costume which both wore was that of the Spanish privateers of the time--
a sort of mixture of the uniform of the royal navy of Spain, and that of
the merchant service; but he could not see their faces, hid as they were
under the slouched Basque bonnet.
All at once the two men halted. A piece of rock, detached by the knees
of the coast-guard, had glided down the slope and fallen near their
feet.
"Did you hear anything?" hastily asked one.
"No; did you?"
"I thought I heard something falling from above there," replied the
first speaker; pointing upward to the spot where Pepe was concealed.
"Bah! it was some mouse running into its hole."
"If this slope wasn't so infernally steep, I'd climb up and see," said
the first.
"I tell you we have nothing to fear," rejoined the second; "the night is
as black as a pot of pitch, and besides--the _other_, hasn't he assured
us that he will answer for the man on guard, _who sleeps all day long_?"
"Just for that reason he may not sleep at night. Remain here, I'll go
round and climb up. _Carramba_! if I find this sleepy-head," he added,
holding out his long knife, the blade of which glittered through the
darkness, "so much the worse--or, perhaps, so much the better for him--
for I shall send him where he may sleep forever."
"_Mil diablos_!" thought Pepe, "this fellow is a philosopher! By the
holy virgin I am long enough here."
And at this thought, he crept out of the folds of his cloak like a snake
out of his skin, and leaving the garment where it lay, crawled rapidly
away from the spot.
Until he had got to a considerable distance, he was so cautious not to
make any noise, that, to use a Spanish expression, _the very ground
itself did not know he was passing over it_.
In this way he advanced, carbine in hand, until he was opposite the
point where the boat rested against the beach. There he stopped to
recover his breath,--at the same time fixing his eye upon the individual
that was alone.
The latter appeared to be buried in a sombre reverie, motionless as a
statue, and wrapped in an ample cloak, which served both to conceal his
person and protect him from the humidity of the atmosphere. His eyes
were turned toward the sea; and for this reason he did not perceive the
dark form of the carabinier approaching in the opposite direction.
The latter advanced with stealthy tread--measuring the distance with his
eye--until at length he stood within a few paces of the boat.
Just then the stranger made a movement as if to turn his face towards
the shore, when Pepe, like a tiger hounding upon its prey, launched
himself forward to the side of the boat.
"It is I!" he exclaimed, bringing the muzzle of his carbine on a level
with the man's breast. "Don't move or you are a dead man!"
"You, who?" asked the astonished stranger, his eyes sparkling with rage,
and not even lowering their glance before the threatening attitude of
his enemy.
"Why me! Pepe--you know well enough? Pepe, the Sleeper?"
"Curses upon him, if he has betrayed me?" muttered, the stranger, as if
speaking to himself.
"If you are speaking of Don Lucas Despierto," interrupted the
carabinier, "I can assure you he is incapable of such a thing; and if I
_am here_ it is because that he has been only too discreet, senor
smuggler."
"Smuggler!" exclaimed the unknown, in a tone of proud disdain.
"When I say smuggler," replied Pepe, chuckling at his own perspicuity,
"it is only meant as a compliment, for you haven't an ounce of
merchandise in your boat, unless indeed," continued he, pointing with
his foot to a rope ladder, rolled up, and lying in the bottom, "unless
that may be a sample! _Santa Virgen_! a strange sample that!"
Face to face with the unknown, the coast-guard could now examine him at
his leisure.
He was a young man of about Pepe's own age, twenty-five. His complexion
had the hale tint of one who followed the sea for a profession. Thick
dark eyebrows were strongly delineated against a forehead bony and
broad, and from a pair of large black eyes shone a sombre fire that
denoted a man of implacable passions. His arched mouth was expressive
of high disdain; and the wrinkles upon his cheeks, strongly marked
notwithstanding his youth, at the slightest movement, gave to his
countenance an expression of arrogance and scorn. In his eyes--in his
whole bearing--you could read that ambition or vengeance were the ruling
passions of his soul. His fine black curling hair alone tempered the
expression of severity that distinguished his physiognomy. With regard
to his costume, it was simply that of an officer of the Spanish navy.
A look that would have frightened most men told the impatience with
which he endured the examination of the coast-guard.
"An end to this pleasantry!" he cried out, at length. "What do you
want, fellow? Speak!"
"Ah! talk of our affairs," answered Pepe, "that is just what I desire.
Well, in the first place, when those two fellows of yours return with my
cloak and lantern--which they are cunning enough to make a seizure of--
you will give them your commands to keep at a distance. In this way we
can talk without being interrupted. Otherwise, with a single shot of
this carbine, which will stretch you out dead, I shall also give the
alarm. What say you? Nothing? Be it so. That answer will do for want
of a better. I go on. You have given to my captain forty _onzas_?"
continued the carabinier, with a bold guess, making sure that he named
enough.
"Twenty," replied the stranger, without reflecting.
"I would rather it had been forty," said Pepe. "Well, one does not pay
so high for the mere pleasure of a sentimental promenade along the shore
of the Ensenada. My intervention need be no obstruction to it--provided
you pay for my neutrality."
"How?" asked the unknown, evidently desirous of putting an end to the
scene.
"Oh, a mere bagatelle--you have given the captain forty _onzas_."
"Twenty, I tell you."
"I would rather it had been forty," coolly repeated the carabinier, "but
say twenty, then. Now I don't wish to be indiscreet--he is a captain, I
am nothing more than a poor private. I think it reasonable therefore,
that I should have _double_ what he has received."
At this extortionate demand the stranger allowed a bitter oath to escape
him, but made no answer.
"I know well," continued Pepe, "that I am asking too little. If my
captain has three times my pay, of course he has three times less need
of money than I, and therefore I have the right to _triple_ the sum he
has received; but as the times are hard, I hold to my original demand--
forty _onzas_."
A terrible struggle betwixt pride and apprehension appeared to be going
on in the bosom of the stranger. Despite the coldness of the night the
perspiration streamed over his brow and down his cheeks. Some imperious
necessity it was that had led him into this place--some strange mystery
there must be--since the necessity he was now under tamed down a spirit
that appeared untamable. The tone of jeering intrepidity which Pepe
held toward him caused him to feel the urgency of a compromise; and at
length plunging his hand into his pocket he drew forth a purse, and
presented it to the carabinier.
"Take it and go!" he cried, with impatience.
Pepe took the purse, and for a moment held it in his hand as if he would
first count its contents.
"Bah!" he exclaimed, after a pause, "I'll risk it. I accept it for
forty _onzas_. And now, senor stranger, I am deaf, dumb, and blind."
"I count upon it," coldly rejoined the unknown.
"By the life of my mother!" replied Pepe, "since it's not an affair of
smuggling I don't mind to lend you a hand--for as a coast-guard, you
see, I could not take part in anything contraband--no, never!"
"Very well, then," rejoined the stranger, with a bitter smile, "you may
set your conscience at rest on that score. Guard this boat till my
return. I go to join my men. Only whatever happens--whatever you may
see--whatever you may hear--be, as you have promised, deaf, dumb, and
blind."
As he uttered these words the stranger sprang out of the boat, and took
the road leading to the village. A turning in the path soon bid him
from the sight of the coast-guard.
Once left to himself, Pepe, under the light of the moon, counted out the
glittering contents of the purse which he had extorted from the
stranger.
"If this jewel is not false," muttered he to himself, "then I don't care
if the government never pays me. Meanwhile, I must begin to-morrow to
cry like a poor devil about the back pay. That will have a good
effect."