Calhoun, chafing in his chamber, was not the object of such assiduous
solicitude. Notwithstanding the luxurious appointments that surrounded
him, he could not comfort himself with the reflection: that he was cared
for by living creature. Truly selfish in his own heart, he had no faith
in friendships; and while confined to his couch--not without some fears
that it might be his death-bed--he experienced the misery of a man
believing that no human being cared a straw whether he should live or
die.
Any sympathy shown to him, was upon the score of relationship. It could
scarce have been otherwise. His conduct towards his cousins had not
been such as to secure their esteem; while his uncle, the proud Woodley
Poindexter, felt towards him something akin to aversion, mingled with a
subdued fear.
It is true that this feeling was only of recent origin; and rose out of
certain relations that existed between uncle and nephew. As already
hinted, they stood to one another in the relationship of debtor and
creditor--or mortgagor and mortgagee--the nephew being the latter. To
such an extent had this indebtedness been carried, that Cassius Calhoun
was in effect the real owner of Casa del Corvo; and could at any moment
have proclaimed himself its master.
Conscious of his power, he had of late been using it to effect a
particular purpose: that is, the securing for his wife, the woman he had
long fiercely loved--his cousin Louise. He had come to know that he
stood but little chance of obtaining her consent: for she had taken but
slight pains to conceal her indifference to his suit. Trusting to the
peculiar influence established over her father, he had determined on
taking no slight denial.
These circumstances considered, it was not strange that the ex-officer
of volunteers, when stretched upon a sick bed, received less sympathy
from his relatives than might otherwise have been extended to him.
While dreading, death--which for a length of time he actually did--he
had become a little more amiable to those around him. The agreeable
mood, however, was of short continuance; and, once assured of recovery,
all the natural savageness of his disposition was restored, along with
the additional bitterness arising from his recent discomfiture.
It had been the pride of his life to exhibit himself as a successful
bully--the master of every crowd that might gather around him. He could
no longer claim this credit in Texas; and the thought harrowed his heart
to its very core.
To figure as a defeated man before all the women of the settlement--
above all in the eyes of her he adored, defeated by one whom he
suspected of being his rival in her affections--a more nameless
adventurer--was too much to be endured with equanimity. Even an
ordinary man would have been pained by the infliction. Calhoun writhed
under it.
He had no idea of enduring it, as an ordinary man would have done. If
he could not escape from the disgrace, he was determined to revenge
himself upon its author; and as soon as he had recovered from the
apprehensions entertained about the safety of his life, he commenced
reflecting upon this very subject.
Maurice, the mustanger, must die! If not by his (Calhoun's) own hand,
then by the hand of another, if such an one was to be found in the
settlement. There could not be much difficulty in procuring a
confederate. There are _bravoes_ upon the broad prairies of Texas, as
well as within the walls of Italian cities. Alas! there is no spot upon
earth where gold cannot command the steel of the assassin.
Calhoun possessed gold--more than sufficient for such a purpose; and to
such purpose did he determine upon devoting at least a portion of it.
In the solitude of his sick chamber he set about maturing his plans;
which comprehended the assassination of the mustanger. He did not
purpose doing the deed himself. His late defeat had rendered him
fearful of chancing a second encounter with the same adversary--even
under the advantageous circumstances of a surprise. He had become too
much encowardised to play the assassin. He wanted an accomplice--an arm
to strike for him. Where was he to find it?
Unluckily he knew, or fancied he knew, the very man. There was a
Mexican at the time making abode in the village--like Maurice himself--a
mustanger; but one of those with whom the young Irishman had shown a
disinclination to associate.
As a general rule, the men of this peculiar calling are amongst the
greatest reprobates, who have their home in the land of the "Lone Star."
By birth and breed they are mostly Mexicans, or mongrel Indians;
though, not unfrequently, a Frenchman, or American, finds it a congenial
calling. They are usually the outcasts of civilised society--oftener
its outlaws--who, in the excitement of the chase, and its concomitant
dangers, find, perhaps, some sort of _salvo_ for a conscience that has
been severely tried.
While dwelling within the settlements, these men are not unfrequently
the pests of the society that surrounds them--ever engaged in broil and
debauch; and when abroad in the exercise of their calling, they are not
always to be encountered with safety. More than once is it recorded in
the history of Texas how a company of mustangers has, for the nonce,
converted itself into a band of _cuadrilla_ of _salteadores_; or,
disguised as Indians, levied black mail upon the train of the prairie
traveller.
One of this kidney was the individual who had become recalled to the
memory of Cassius Calhoun. The latter remembered having met the man in
the bar-room of the hotel; upon several occasions, but more especially
on the night of the duel. He remembered that he had been one of those
who had carried him home on the stretcher; and from some extravagant
expressions he had made use of, when speaking of his antagonist, Calhoun
had drawn the deduction, that the Mexican was no friend to Maurice the
mustanger.
Since then he had learnt that he was Maurice's deadliest enemy--himself
excepted.
With these data to proceed upon the ex-captain had called the Mexican to
his counsels, and the two were often closeted together in the chamber of
the invalid.
There was nothing in all this to excite suspicion--even had Calhoun
cared for that. His visitor was a dealer in horses and horned cattle.
Some transaction in horseflesh might be going on between them. So any
one would have supposed. And so for a time thought the Mexican himself:
for in their first interview, but little other business was transacted
between them. The astute Mississippian knew better than to declare his
ultimate designs to a stranger; who, after completing an advantageous
horse-trade, was well supplied with whatever he chose to drink, and
cunningly cross-questioned as to the relations in which he stood towards
Maurice the mustanger.
In that first interview, the ex-officer volunteers learnt enough, to
know that he might depend upon his man for any service he might
require--even to the committal of murder.
The Mexican made no secret of his heartfelt hostility to the young
mustanger. He did not declare the exact cause of it; but Calhoun could
guess, by certain innuendos introduced during the conversation, that it
was the same as that by which he was himself actuated--the same to which
may be traced almost every quarrel that has occurred among men, from
Troy to Texas--a woman!
The Helen in this case appeared to be some dark-eyed _doncella_ dwelling
upon the Rio Grande, where Maurice had been in the habit of making an
occasional visit, in whose eyes he had found favour, to the disadvantage
of her own _conpaisano_.
The Mexican did not give the name; and Calhoun, as he listened to his
explanations, only hoped in his heart that the damsel who had slighted
him might have won the heart of his rival.
During his days of convalescence, several interviews had taken place
between the ex-captain and the intended accomplice in his purposes of
vengeance--enough, one might suppose, to have rendered them complete.
Whether they were so, or not, and what the nature of their hellish
designs, were things known only to the brace of kindred confederates.
The outside world but knew that Captain Cassius Calhoun and Miguel
Diaz--known by the nickname "El Coyote," appeared to have taken a fancy
for keeping each other's company; while the more respectable portion of
it wondered at such an ill-starred association.