A DARK HISTORY.
Freed from all the observations, more or less pertinent, with which
it pleased the prolix hunter to embellish it, the following is the
remarkable story the Canadian told his hearers. This narrative is so
closely connected with our story, that we are compelled to repeat it in
all its details:--
"Few cities offer a more enchanting appearance than Mexico. The
ancient capital of the Aztecs lies stretched out, slothful and idle
as a Creole maid, half veiled by the thick curtain of lofty willows
which border at a distance the canals and roads. Built at exactly
equal distance from two oceans, at about 7,500 feet above their level,
or at the same height as the hospice of St. Bernard, this city,
however, enjoys a delicious tempered climate, between two magnificent
mountains--Popocatepetl, or the burning mountain, and Intaczehuatl, or
the white woman--whose rugged peaks, covered with eternal snows, are
lost in the clouds. The stranger who arrives before Mexico at sunset,
by the eastern road--one of the four great ways that lead to the City
of the Aztecs, and the only one now remaining isolated in the middle
of the waters of Lake Tezcuco, on which it is built--experiences, at
the first sight of this city, a strange emotion, for which he cannot
account. The Moorish architecture of the edifices; the houses painted
of bright colours; the numberless domes of churches and convents which
rise above the azoteas, and cover--if we may use the expression--the
entire capital with their vast yellow, blue, and red parasols, gilded
by the parching rays of the declining sun; the warm and perfumed
evening breeze which comes sporting through the leaf-laden branches;
all this combines to give Mexico a perfectly Eastern air, which
astonishes and seduces at the same time. Mexico, entirely burnt down by
Fernando Cortez, was rebuilt by that conqueror after the original plan;
all the streets intersect at right angles, and lead to the Plaza Mayor
by five principal arteries."
"All Spanish towns in the New World have this in common--that, in
all, the Plaza Mayor is built after the same plan. Thus, at Mexico,
on one side are the Cathedral and the Sagrario; on the second, the
Palace of the President of the Republic, containing the ministerial
offices--four in number, barracks, a prison, &c.; on the third side
is the Ayuntamiento; while the fourth is occupied by two bazaars--the
Parián, and the Portal de los Flores."
"On July 10, 1854, at ten of the night, after a torrid heat, which
compelled the inhabitants to shut themselves up in their houses
the whole day through, the breeze rose and refreshed the air, and
everybody, mounted on the flower-covered azoteas, which make them
resemble hanging gardens, hastened to enjoy that serene placidity
of American evenings, which seems to rain stars from the azure sky.
The streets and square were thronged with promenaders; there was an
inextricable throng of foot passengers, horsemen, men, women, Indians
and their squaws, where the rags, silk and gold were arranged in the
quaintest manner, in the midst of cries, jests, and merry bursts of
laughter. In a word, Mexico, like the enchanted city of the Arabian
Nights, seemed to have been aroused by the bell of Oración from a
centennial sleep--such joy did all faces display, and so happy did all
seem to inhale the fresh air."
"At this moment, a non-commissioned officer, who could be easily
recognised as such by the vine stick he held in his hand, turned out
of the Calle San Francisco, and mingled with the crowd that thronged
the Plaza Mayor, giving himself all the airs peculiar to soldiers
in all parts of the world. He was a young man, of elegant features,
haughty glance, and his slight moustache was coquettishly turned up.
After walking round the square two or three times, ogling maidens and
elbowing the men, he approached, with the same careless air he had
displayed from the beginning, a shop built against one of the portales,
in which an old man with a ferret-face and cunning look was shutting up
in the drawers of a poor table, stained with a countless number of ink
spots, paper, pens, sand, and envelopes--in a word, all the articles
requisite for the profession of a public writer--the trade which the
little old man really carried on, as could be seen from a board hung
over the door of his shop, on which was written, in white letters on a
black ground,--_Juan Battista Leporello, Evangelista_. The sergeant
looked for a few seconds through the panes, which were covered with
specimens of calligraphy, and then, doubtless satisfied with what he
saw, he tapped thrice with his stick on the door."
"A chain was moved in the interior; the soldier heard a key turned in
the lock, then the door opened slightly, and the evangelista thrust his
head out timidly."
"'Ah, 'tis you, Don Annibal! _Dios me ampare_. I did not expect you so
soon,' he said, in that cringing tone which some men employ when they
feel themselves in the hands of a man stronger than themselves."
"'_¡Cuerpo de Cristo!_ play the innocent, old coyote,' the sergeant
replied roughly, 'who but I would dare to set foot in your accursed
den?'"
"The evangelista shrugged his shoulders with a grin, and pushed his
silver spectacles with their round glasses up on his forehead."
"'Eh, eh,' he said, coughing mysteriously, 'many people have recourse
to my good offices, my young Springold.'"
"'It is possible,' the soldier answered, thrusting him rudely back, and
entering the shop. 'I pity them for falling into the hands of an old
bird of prey like you; but it is not that which brings me here.'"
"'Perhaps it would be better for both you and me, if your visits had
another motive from the one that brings you here!' the evangelista
remarked, timidly."
"'Truce to your sermons; shut the door, fasten the shutters, so that no
one can see us from the street, and let us talk, for we have no time to
lose.'"
"The old man made no reply; he at once set about closing the shutters,
which at night protected his shop from the assaults of the rateros,
with a celerity for which no one would have given him credit; then he
sat down by his visitor's side, after carefully bolting the door."
"These two men, seen thus by the light of a smoky candle, offered a
striking contrast; one young, handsome, strong, and daring; the other
old, broken, and hypocritical: both taking side glances at each other,
full of a strange expression, and with an apparent cordiality, which
probably hid a deep hatred, talking in a low voice ear to ear, they
resembled two demons conspiring the ruin of an angel."
"The soldier was the first to speak, in a tone hardly above his breath,
so much did he seem to fear being overheard."
"'Look you, Tío Leporello,' he said, 'let us come to an understanding;
the half hour has just struck at the Sagrario, so speak; what have you
learnt new?'"
"'Hum!' the other said, 'not much that is interesting.'"
"The soldier flashed a suspicious glance at him, and appeared to be
reflecting."
"'That is true,' he said, at the end of a moment, 'I did not think of
that; where could my head be?'"
"He drew from the breast pocket of his uniform a purse tolerably well
filled, through the meshes of which glistened sundry ounces, and then a
long navaja, which he opened and placed on the table near him. The old
man trembled at the sight of the sharpened blade, whose blue steel sent
forth sinister rays; the soldier opened the purse, and poured forth
the pieces in a joyous cascade before him. The evangelista immediately
forgot the knife, only to attend to the gold, attracted involuntarily
by the trinkling of the metal, as by an irresistible magnet."
"The soldier had done all we have just described with the coolness of a
man who knows that he has unfailing arguments in his possession."
"'Then,' he said, 'rake up your memory, old demon, if you do not wish
my navaja to teach you with whom you have to deal, in case you have
forgotten.'"
"The evangelista smiled pleasantly, while looking covetously at the
ounces. 'I know too well what I owe you, Don Annibal,' he said, 'not to
try to satisfy you by all the means in my power.'"
"'A truce to your unnecessary and hypocritical compliments, old ape,
and come to facts. Take this first, it will encourage you to be
sincere.'"
"He placed several ounces in his hand, which the evangelista disposed
of with such sleight of hand, that it was impossible for the soldier to
know where they had gone."
"'You are generous, Don Annibal--that will bring you good fortune.'"
"'Go on; I want facts.'"
"'I am coming to them.'"
"'I am listening.'"
"And the sergeant leaned his elbows on the table, in the position of a
man preparing to listen, while the evangelista coughed, spat, and by
an old habit of prudence, though alone with the sergeant in his shop,
looked round him suspiciously."
"The sounds on the Plaza Mayor had died out one after the other; the
crowd had dispersed in every direction, and returned to their houses,
and the greatest silence prevailed outside; at this moment eleven
o'clock struck slowly from the Cathedral, and the two men started
involuntarily at the mournful sounds of the clock; the serenos chanted
the hour in their drawling, drunken voice; then all was quiet."
"'Will you speak, yes or no?' the soldier suddenly said, with a
menacing accent."
"The evangelista bounded on his butaca, as if aroused from sleep, and
passed his hand several times over his forehead. 'I am beginning,' he
said in a humble voice."
"'That is lucky,' the other remarked, coarsely."
"'You must know, then----but,' he observed, suddenly interrupting
himself, 'must I enter into all the details?'"
"'_Demonios!_' the soldier exclaimed, passionately, 'let us have an
end of this once for all; you know I want to have the most complete
information; _Canarios!_ do not play with me like a cat with a mouse;
old man, I warn you, that game will be dangerous for you.'"
"'Well, this morning, I had just settled myself in my office; I was
arranging my papers and mending my pens, when I heard a discreet tap at
the door; I rose and went to open it; it was a young and lovely lady,
as far as I could judge, for she was _embossed_ in her black mantilla,
so as not to be seen.'"
"'Then it was not the woman who has come to you every day for a month?'
the soldier interrupted."
"'Yes; but as you have doubtlessly remarked, on each of her visits, she
is careful to change her dress, in order to prevent my recognizing her;
but, in spite of these precautions, I have been too long accustomed to
ladies' tricks to allow myself to be deceived, and I recognized her by
the first glance that shot from her black eye.'"
"'Very good: go on.'"
"'She stood for a moment before me in silence, playing with her
fan, with an air of embarrassment. I offered her a chair politely,
pretending not to recognize her, and asking her how I could be of
service to her.' 'Oh,' she answered me, with a petulant voice, 'I want
a very simple matter.' 'Speak, señorita; if it is connected with my
profession, believe me, I shall make a point of obeying you.' 'Should
I have come, had it not been so?' she replied; 'but are you a man who
can be trusted?' and while saying this, she fixed on me a searching
glance. I drew myself up, and replied in my most serious tone, as I
laid my hand on my heart--'An evangelista is a confessor; all secrets
die in his breast.' She then drew a paper from the pocket of her saga,
and turned it about in her fingers, but suddenly began laughing, as
she said, 'How foolish I am, I make a mystery of a trifle; besides, at
this moment you are only a machine, as you will not understand what you
write.' I bowed at all hazards, expecting some diabolical combination,
like those she has brought to me every day for a month.'"
"'A truce to reflections,' the sergeant interrupted."
"'She gave me the paper,' the evangelista continued, 'and, as was
arranged between you and me, I took a sheet of paper, which I laid
upon another prepared beforehand, and blackened on one side, so that
the words I wrote on my papers were reproduced by the black page on
another--the poor Niña not in the least suspecting it. After all,
the letter was not long, only two or three lines; but, may I be sent
to purgatory,' he added, crossing himself piously, 'if I understood
a syllable of the horrible gibberish I copied: it was doubtlessly
Morisco.'"
"'Afterwards?'"
"'I folded up the paper in the shape of a letter, and addressed it.'"
"'Ah, ah!' the soldier said, with interest, 'that is the first time.'"
"'Yes, but the information will not be of much use to you.'"
"'Perhaps:--what was the address?'"
"'Z. p. v. 2, calle S. P. Z.'"
"'Hum!' the soldier said, thoughtfully; 'that is certainly rather
vague. What next?'"
"'Then she went away, after giving me a gold ounce.'"
"'She is generous.'"
"'Pore Niña!' the evangelista said, laying his hooked fingers over his
dry eyes, with an air of tenderness."
"'Enough of that mummery, which I do not believe. Is that all she said
to you?'"
"'Nearly so,' the other said, with hesitation."
"The sergeant looked at him. 'Is there anything else?' he remarked, as
he threw him several gold coins, which the evangelista disposed of at
once."
"'Almost nothing.'"
"'You had better tell me, Tío Leporello, for, as an evangelista, you
know that the reason why letters are written, is generally found in the
postscript.'"
"'On leaving my office, the señorita made a sign to a _providencia_
which was passing. The carriage stopped, and though the niña spoke in
a very low voice, I heard her say to the driver, 'To the convent of the
Bernardines.'"
"The sergeant gave an almost imperceptible start."
"'Hum!' he said, with an indifferent air, perfectly well assumed; 'that
address does not mean much. Now give me the paper.'"
"The evangelista fumbled in his drawer, and drew from it a sheet of
white paper, on which a few almost illegible words were written. So
soon as the soldier had the paper in his hands he eagerly perused it;
it appeared to have a great interest for him, for he turned visibly
pale, and a convulsive tremor passed over his limbs; but he recovered
himself almost immediately."
"'It is well,' he said, as he tore up the paper into imperceptible
fragments; 'here's for you.'"
"And he threw a fresh handful of ounces on the table."
"'Thanks, caballero,' Tío Leporello exclaimed, as he bounded greedily
on the precious metal."
"An ironical smile played round the soldier's lips, and, taking
advantage of the old man's position, as he leant over the table to
collect the gold, he raised his knife, and buried it to the hilt
between the evangelista's shoulders. The blow was dealt so truly,
and with such a firm hand, that the old man fell like a log, without
uttering a sigh or giving a cry. The soldier regarded him for a moment
coldly and apathetically, then, reassured by the immobility of his
victim, whom he believed dead,--"
"'Come,' he muttered, 'that is all the better; at any rate, he will not
speak in that way.'"
"After this philosophical funeral oration, the assassin tranquilly
wiped his knife, picked up the gold, put out the candle, opened the
door, closed it carefully after him, and walked off with the steady,
though somewhat hasty step of a belated traveller hurrying to his home."
"The Plaza Mayor was deserted."