I had little difficulty in clearing the paroled officer from the charge
of assassinating "a member of the Spy Company."
As soon as his accusers discovered what I knew of that affair, they not
only withdrew their accusation, but their own precious persons, beyond
the reach of court-martial inquiry.
When "wanted," to give testimony in the investigation that ensued, not
one, but five, of Dominguez's followers were reported "missing!" The
four coadjutors of him who had been killed thought it more prudent not
to press the charge; and when sent for, could not be found either in the
"Spy" quarters, or elsewhere in the City of the Angels!
They had taken their departure _a los Montes_; and I was left alone to
tell the story of that nocturnal encounter.
For their testimony I cared not a straw; though the episode was not
without some beneficial effects. It taught our renegade allies a little
lesion; which was no doubt afterwards profitable--if not to themselves--
to those who were so unfortunate as to have dealings with them.
I was not so indifferent to the escape of the scoundrels who had
attacked me in the "Street of the Sparrows;" and who appeared to have
their head-quarters there.
In half an hour after leaving it with my escort of Red Hats, I was back
again--accompanied by a score of Rifle Rangers, who assisted me in
making an exploration of that interesting locality.
But the birds we went in search of had flown; and during the remainder
of my stay in La Puebla de los Angeles, I never more set eyes upon my
quaint challenger.
I learnt something more of him from Francisco--some chapters of his
history that did not fail to astonish me. He had been a captain in the
Mexican army; and would be so again, should the tyrant Santa Anna get
restored to his dictatorial power. Whenever the star of the latter was
in the ascendant, the former was sure of a commission.
But as the light of Santa Anna's star had been of late only
intermittent, so also was the holding of his commission by Captain
Torreano Carrasco.
During the intervals which Francisco jocosely styled "his leaves of
absence," the gallant captain was in the habit of spending a portion of
his time among the mountains.
"What does he do there?" I innocently inquired of my informant.
"_Carrambo, senor_! It is strange you should ask that. I thought
everybody knew," was the answer.
"Knew what?"
"That El Capitan Carrasco is _un pocito de salteador_."
I was less astonished at the declaration, than the manner in which it
was made.
The young Mexican appeared to treat the thing as of no great
consequence, but rather a matter of course. He seemed to look upon it
in the light of a levity--scarcely a crime--one of the _Cosas de
Mexico_!
He was more serious when replying to my next question: "Has this Captain
Carrasco any acquaintance with the daughters of Don Eusebio
Villa-Senor?"
"Why do you ask, caballero?" he said, turning pale at the mention of the
name; "You know them?"
"I have not the honour of knowing them, except by sight. I saw them
this morning at matins. I saw Carrasco there too. He appeared to take
an interest in their devotions."
"If I thought so I'd--. Bah! it is not possible. He dare not--. Tell
me, caballero; _what_ did you observe?"
"Oh, nothing more than I've said. What do you know about it yourself?"
"_En verdad_, nothing either! It was only a thought I had--from
something I once saw. I may have been mistaken. 'Tis of no
consequence."
We spoke no more upon the subject. It was evidently painful to
Francisco Moreno--as it was to myself.
At a later period--when our acquaintance became better established--
further confidence was exchanged between us; and I was told the story of
Francisco's courtship--to a portion of which, without his knowing it, I
had listened before.
It was as I had supposed. There was an objection to his being united to
his _dear Dolores_--her father being chief objector. The young soldier
was but a "poor gentleman"--with no other prospect, save that at the
point of his sword--not much in Mexico, to a man with an _honest_ heart.
There was a rival who was rich; and to this "party" Don Eusebio had
promised his daughter--with the threat of a convent in the case of her
refusal.
Notwithstanding this menace, Francisco was full of hope--based upon the
promises of Dolores. She had expressed her determination to share
penury with him rather than wed the _rico_, who was not of her choice--
to die, or do anything rather than go into a convent!
I was not so communicative as my new acquaintance--at least as regarded
my relationship with the family of Villa-Senor. To have spoken of
Mercedes to another would have spoiled the romance of my passion. Not a
word said I to Francisco of that hopeful affair.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From that day I became noted, as one of the earliest risers on the
muster-roll of the American army. Not a morning did I outsleep the
_reveille_; nor once missed matins in the Cathedral.
Several times I again saw Mercedes. Each time there was an exchange of
glances--each day becoming better understood between us.
And still not a word had we exchanged! I feared to risk speech--the
humiliation that would follow, if perchance I was mistaken.
I was again on the eve of resorting to the epistolary mode of
communication--and had actually written the letter, intending to deliver
it--not second-hand through the _cochero_, but, in _propria persona_, to
the lady herself.
At each succeeding _oracion_ I watched for an opportunity; when the fair
worshipper, passing out along with the crowd, might come within
delivering distance.
Twice had I been disappointed. On the third time I had the chance,
without taking advantage of it!
It was not needed. The wish I had expressed in my epistle was better
worded by Mercedes herself. As she descended the steps on her way to
the street, her lips came so close to my ear, that I was enabled to
catch every syllable of that sweet whisper:
"_En la Alameda. A seis horas_!" (At six o'clock, in the Alameda!)