In the evening Alday returned with a couple of his friends, and, as soon
as an opportunity offered, I took him aside and begged him to let me
have a horse to continue my journey to Montevideo. He answered evasively
that the horse I had lost in the neighbouring forest would probably be
recovered in the course of two or three days. I replied that if he would
let me have a horse, the one I had lost, together with saddle, _poncho_,
etc., could be claimed by him whenever they turned up. He then said that
he could not very well give me ahorse, “with saddle and bridle also.” It
looked as if he wanted to keep me in his house for some purpose of his
own, and this made me all the more determined to leave it immediately,
in spite of the tender, reproachful glances which Monica flashed on me
from under her long, drooping eyelashes. I told him that if I could not
have a horse I would leave his _estancia_ on foot. That rather put him
in a corner; for in this country, where horse-stealing and cheating
at cards are looked on as venial offenses, to let a man leave your
_estancia_ on foot is considered a very dishonourable thing. He pondered
over my declaration for some minutes, then, after conferring with his
friends, he promised to provide me with all I required next day. I had
heard nothing more about the revolution, but after supper Alday suddenly
became very confidential, and said that the whole country would be up
in arms in the course of a very few days, and that it would be highly
dangerous for me to attempt travelling by myself to the capital. He
expatiated on the immense prestige of General Santa Coloma, who had just
taken up arms against the Colorado party then in power, and concluded
by saying that my safest plan would be to join the rebels, and accompany
them on their march to Montevideo which would begin almost immediately.
I replied that I took no interest in the dissensions of the Banda
Orientál, and did not wish to compromise myself by joining a military
expedition of any kind. He shrugged his shoulders, and, renewing his
promise of a horse next day, retired to rest.
On rising next morning I found that the others were already up. The
horses were standing saddled at the door, and Alday, pointing out a very
fair-looking animal, informed me that it had been saddled for me, and
then added that he and his friends would ride one or two leagues with me
to put me on the right road to Montevideo. He had suddenly become almost
too kind, but in the simplicity of my heart I believed that he was only
making amends for the slight inhospitality of the day before.
After partaking of bitter _maté_, I thanked my hostess, looked my last
into Monica's dark, sorrowful eyes, lifted for one moment to mine, and
kissed little Anita's pathetic face, by so doing filling the child with
astonishment and causing considerable amusement to the other members
of the family. After we had ridden about four miles, keeping nearly
parallel with the river, it struck me that we were not going in the
right direction--the right one for me, at any rate. I therefore checked
my horse and told my companions that I would not trouble them to ride
with me any further.
“My friend,” said Alday, approaching me, “you will, if you leave us
now, infallibly fall into the hands of some _partida_, who, finding you
without a passport, will take you to El Molino, or to some other centre.
Though it would make no difference if you had a passport, for they would
only tear it up and take you all the same. In these circumstances it is
your safest plan to go with us to El Molino, where General Santa Coloma
is collecting his forces, and you will then be able to explain your
position to him.”
“I refuse to go to El Molino,” I said angrily, exasperated at his
treachery.
“You will then compel us to take you there,” he returned.
I had no wish to become a prisoner again so soon, and, seeing that a
bold stroke was necessary to keep my liberty, I suddenly reined up my
horse and drew my revolver. “My friends,” I said, “your road lies inthat
direction; mine in this. I wish you good morning.”
I had scarcely finished speaking before a blow of a heavy whip-handle
descended on my arm below the elbow, almost breaking it, and sending me
off my horse, while the revolver went spinning away a dozen yards.
The blow had been dealt by one of Alday's two followers, who had
just dropped a little to the rear, and the rascal certainly showed a
marvellous quickness and dexterity in disabling me.
Wild with rage and pain, I scrambled to my feet, and, drawing my
knife, threatened to stab the first man who approached me; and then, in
unmeasured language, I abused Alday for his cowardice and brutality. He
only smiled and replied that he considered my youth, and therefore felt
no resentment against me for using such intemperate words.
“And now, my friend,” he continued, after picking up my revolver and
remounting his horse, “let us waste no more time, but hasten on to El
Molino, where you can state your case to the General.”
As I did not wish to be tied on to my horse and carried in that
unpleasant and ignominious manner, I had to obey. Climbing into the
saddle with some difficulty, we set out towards the village of El Molino
at a swinging gallop. The rough motion of the horse I rode increased
the pain in my arm till it became intolerable; then one of the men
mercifully bound it up in a sling, after which I was able to travel more
comfortably, though still suffering a great deal.
The day was excessively warm, and we did not reach our destination till
about three o'clock in the afternoon. Just before entering the town we
rode through a little army of gauchos encamped on the adjacent plain.
Some of them were engaged cooking meat, others were saddling horses,
while others, in bodies of twenty or thirty, were going through cavalry
exercises, the whole making a scene of wonderful animation. Very
nearly all the men wore the ordinary gaucho costume, and those who
were exercising carried lances, to which were attached little white,
fluttering bannerets. Passing through the encampment, we clattered into
the town, composed of about seventy or eighty houses of stone or mud,
some thatched, others with tiled roofs, and every house with a large
garden attached to it. At the official building facing the plaza a guard
of ten men, armed with carbines, was stationed. We dismounted and went
into the building, only to hear that the General had just left the town,
and was not expected back till the following day.
Alday spoke to an officer sitting at a table in the room we were shown
into, addressing him as Major. He was a thin, elderly man, with calm
grey eyes and a colourless face, and looked like a gentleman. After
hearing a few words from Alday, he turned to me and said courteously
that he was sorry to tell me I should have to remain in El Molino till
the General's return, when I could give an account of myself to him.
“We do not,” he said in conclusion, “wish to compel any foreigner, or
any Oriental even, to join our forces; but we are naturally suspicious
of strangers, having already caught two or three spies in the
neighbourhood. Unfortunately you are not provided with a passport, and
it is best that the General should see you.”
“Sir officer,” I replied, “by ill-treating and detaining an Englishman
you are doing your cause no good.”
He answered that he was grieved that his people had found it necessary
to treat me roughly, for he put it in that mild way. Everything, he
said, short of liberating me, would be done to make my sojourn in El
Molino pleasant.
“If it is necessary that the General should see me himself before I can
have my liberty, pray let these men take me to him at once,” I said.
“He has not yet left El Molino,” said an orderly, standing in the room.
“He is at the end of the town at the Casa Blanca, and does not leave
till half-past three.”
“It is nearly that now,” said the officer, consulting his watch. “Take
him to the General at once, Lieutenant Alday.”
I thanked the officer, who had looked and spoken so unlike a
revolutionary bandit, and, as soon as I had succeeded in clambering on
to my horse, we were once more dashing along the main street at a fast
gallop. We drew up before a large, old-looking stone house at the end of
the town, standing some distance back from the road, and screened from
it by a double row of tall Lombardy poplars. The back of the house was
towards the road, and, passing round to the front after leaving our
horses at the gate, we entered a spacious _patio_, or yard. Running
along the front of the dwelling was a wide corridor, supported by wooden
pillars, painted white, while the whole of the _patio_ was shaded by
an immense grape-vine. This was evidently one of the best houses in the
place, and, coming directly from the glaring sun and the white, dusty
road, the vine-shaded _patio_ and corridor looked delightfully cool and
inviting. A gay company of twelve or fifteen people were gathered under
the corridor, some sipping _maté_, others sucking grapes; and when
we came on the scene a young lady was just finishing a song she was
singing. I at once singled out General Santa Coloma, sitting by
the young lady with the guitar--a tall, imposing man, with somewhat
irregular features, and a bronzed, weather-beaten face. He was booted
and spurred, and over his uniform wore a white silk _poncho_ with
purple fringe. I judged from his countenance that he was not a stern or
truculent man, as one expects a Caudillo--a leader of men--in the Banda
Orientál to be: and, remembering that in a few minutes he would be
leaving the house, I was anxious to push forward and state my case
to him. The others, however, prevented me, for the General just then
happened to be engaged in a vivacious conversation with the young lady
sitting by him. When I had once looked attentively at this girl I had
eyes for no other face there. The type was Spanish, and I have never
seen a more perfect face of the kind; a wealth of blue-black hair
shading the low, broad forehead, straight nose, dark, luminous eyes,
and crimson, pouting lips. She was tall, perfect in her figure as in her
face, and wore a white dress with a deep red China rose on her bosom for
only ornament. Standing there unnoticed at the end of the corridor,
I gazed with a kind of fascination on her, listening to her light,
rippling laughter and lively talk, watching her graceful gestures, her
sparkling eyes, and damask cheeks flushed with excitement. Here is a
woman, I thought with a sigh--I felt a slight twinge at that disloyal
sigh--I could have worshipped. She was pressing the guitar on the
General.
“You have promised to sing one song before you go, and I cannot let you
off,” she exclaimed.
At length he took the instrument, protesting that his voice was a very
bad one; then, sweeping the strings, began that fine old Spanish song of
love and war:
“_Cuando suena la trompa guerrera_.”
His voice was uncultivated and somewhat harsh, but there was a good
deal of fire and expression in the performance, and it was rapturously
applauded.
The moment the song was over he handed her back the guitar, and,
starting up hastily, bade the company adieu, and turned to go.
Coming forward, I placed myself before him and began to speak.
“I am pressed for time and cannot listen to you now,” he said quickly,
scarcely glancing at me. “You are a prisoner--wounded, I see; well,
when I return--” Suddenly he stopped, caught hold of my wounded arm, and
said, “How did you get hurt? Tell me quickly.”
His sharp, impatient manner, and the sight of twenty people all standing
round staring at me, quite upset me, and I could only stammer out a few
unintelligible words, feeling that my face was blushing scarlet to the
very roots of my hair.
“Let me tell you, General,” said Alday, advancing.
“No, no,” said the General; “he shall speak.”
The sight of Alday so eager to give his version of the affair first
restored my anger to me, and with that came back the power of speech and
the other faculties which I had lost for a moment.
“Sir General, all I have to say is this,” I said; “I came to this man's
house at night, a stranger, lost, on foot, for my horse had been stolen
from me. I asked him for shelter in the belief that at least the one
virtue of hospitality still survives in this country. He, assisted
by these two men, treacherously disabled me with a blow on my arm and
dragged me here a prisoner.”
“My good friend,” said the General, “I am extremely sorry that you have
been hurt through an excess of zeal on the part of one of my people.
But I can scarcely regret this incident, painful as it seems, since it
enables me to assure you that one other virtue besides hospitality still
survives in the Banda Orientál--I mean gratitude.”
“I do not understand you,” I said.
“We were companions in misfortune a very short time ago,” he returned.
“Have you forgotten the service you did me then?”
I stared at him, astonished at his words; and while I looked into his
face, suddenly that scene at the magistrate's _estancia_, when I went
with the key to let my fellow-traveller out of the stocks, and he jumped
up and seized my hand, flashed on me. Still I was not quite sure, and
half whispered tentatively, “What, Marcos Marcó?”
“Yes,” he returned, smiling, “that was my name at that moment. My
friends,” he continued, resting a hand on my shoulder, and speaking to
the others, “I have met this young Englishman before. A few days
ago, when I was on my way hither, I was arrested at Las Cuevas in his
company; it was by means of his assistance that I succeeded in making my
escape. He did this good deed, believing at the time that he was helping
a poor peasant, and not expecting any return.”
I might have reminded him that only after he had given me a solemn
assurance that he did not intend attempting to make his escape, did I
consent to get his legs out of the stocks. However, as he thought proper
to forget that part of the affair I was not going to recall it to him.
There were many surprised exclamations from the bystanders, and,
glancing at that beautiful girl, who was standing near with the others,
I found her dark eyes fixed on my face with an expression of tenderness
and sympathy in them that sent the blood rushing to my heart.
“They have hurt you badly, I fear,” said the General, addressing me
again. “To continue your journey now would be imprudent. Let me beg of
you to remain where you are, in this house, till your arm is better.”
Then, turning to the young lady, he said, “Dolores, will you and your
mother take charge of my young friend till I return, and see that his
injured arm is attended to?”
“My General, you will make us happy by leaving him in our care,” she
replied, with a bright smile.
He then introduced me as Don Ricardo simply--for he did not know my
surname--to the lovely señorita, Dolores Zelaya; after which he again
bade us adieu and hurried away.
When he had gone, Alday advanced, hat in hand, and gave me back my
revolver, which I had forgotten all about. I took it with my left
hand, and put it in my pocket. He then apologised for having treated me
roughly--the Major had taught him that word--but without the faintest
trace of servility in his speech or manner; and after that he offered me
his hand.
“Which will you have,” I said, “the hand you have injured or the left
hand?”
He immediately dropped his own hand to his side, then, bowing, said he
would wait till I had recovered the use of my right hand. Turning to go,
he added with a smile that he hoped the injury would soon heal, so that
I would be able to wield a sword in my friend Santa Coloma's cause.
His manner, I thought, was a little too independent. “Pray take back
your horse now,” I said, “as I have no further use for it, and accept my
thanks for conducting me thus far on my journey.”
“Do not mention it,” he replied, with a dignified wave of his hand. “I
am pleased to have been able to render you this small service.”