THE RETURN TO VALDIVIA.
Night was come; bending over the pillow of his friend, who was still
buried in that lethargic sleep which generally follows great loss of
blood, Valentine watched with anxious tenderness the changes which at
times darkened his pale countenance.
"Oh!" he said, in a suppressed voice, clenching his hands with anger,
"be thy assassins who they may, brother, they shall pay for their crime
dearly."
The curtain of the tent was slowly raised, and a hand was laid upon the
young man's shoulder. He turned quickly round; Trangoil-Lanec was before
him. The face of the Ulmen was dark as night, and he appeared a prey to
strong emotion.
"What is the matter, chief?" asked Valentine, terrified at his manner;
"what has happened, in the name of Heaven? Have you any fresh misfortune
to announce?"
"Misfortune incessantly watches over man," the chief remarked
sententiously; "he should be ready to receive it at all hours, like an
expected guest."
"Speak then!" the young man asked, in a firm voice; "whatever may
happen, I will not falter."
"Good, my brother is strong, he is a great warrior, he will not suffer
himself to be cast down. Let my brother hasten; we must be gone!"
"Be gone!" cried Valentine, with a nervous start; "and my friend?"
"Our brother Louis will accompany us."
"Is it possible to move him?"
"It must be," the Indian said peremptorily; "the war hatchet is dug up
against the palefaces, the Aucas chiefs have drunk firewater, the genius
of evil is master of their hearts; we must depart before they think of
us; in an hour it will be too late."
"Let us depart then," the young man replied, sorrowfully, convinced that
Trangoil-Lanec knew more than he was willing to tell, and that some
great danger threatened them, since the chief, who was a man of tried
courage, had let fall that mask of stoicism which scarcely ever abandons
the Indian.
Preparations for departure were made in all haste, and were soon
terminated. The hammock in which Louis reposed was solidly fastened to
two long cross pieces of wood, and then, as it was, harnessed upon two
mules without awakening him. The little band set out, employing the
greatest precautions. They proceeded thus for more than an hour, without
exchanging a word; the campfires of the Indians became every minute more
faint in the distance, and they were, at least for the present, out of
danger. Valentine approached Trangoil-Lanec, who rode at the head of the
convoy.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To Valdivia," the chief replied; "it is there alone that Don Louis will
be able to recover in safety."
"You are right," said Valentine; "but shall we remain inactive?"
"I will do what my brother the paleface wishes; am I not his penni?
where he goes I will go--his will shall be mine!"
"Thank you, chief," the Frenchman replied, with emotion; "you have a
brave and worthy heart."
"My brother saved my life," said the Ulmen earnestly; "that life is no
longer mine, it belongs to him."
Whether it was that the Araucano chiefs did not perceive the departure
of the strangers, or that, as is more probable, they did not think it
worthwhile to pursue them, the little troop was not interrupted in its
flight--for what other name could be given to this night march amidst
the desert? They advanced slowly, on account of the wounded man, who
could not, in his state of weakness and prostration, have supported the
shaking of a more rapid pace.
Towards three o'clock in the morning, a few fugitive and uncertain
lights, which flitted across the horizon, and with difficulty pierced
through the fog, which at that hour of the night envelopes the earth
like a winding sheet, announced to the party that they were approaching
the city, and should soon be there. At the end of three quarters of an
hour, they reached the gardens which envelope Valdivia like an immense
bouquet of flowers, from the centre of which it seems to spring up. The
party made a short halt, in order not to attract observation on entering
the city, through the state of the horses and mules. From that time they
had nothing to fear from the Indians.
"Is my brother acquainted with the city?" Trangoil-Lanec asked.
"Why do you ask that question?"
"For a very simple reason. In the desert, by night or by day, I can
serve as a guide to my brother; but here, in this toldería of the
whites, my eyes close--I am blind; my brother must conduct us."
"The devil!" said Valentine, quite disconcerted; "in that sense I am as
blind as you, chief; it was only yesterday that I entered the city for
the first time: and," he added, laughingly, "the bullets then whistled
round in such a merry fashion, I had scarcely time to look about me, or
to ask my way."
"Don't let that disturb you, señor," said one of the peons, who had
heard the few words pronounced by the two men; "only tell me where you
want to go, and I will undertake to conduct you."
"Hum!" Valentine replied; "where I want to go to? Caspeta! I cannot
exactly say; all places are alike to me, provided my friend be in
safety."
"Pardon me, señor," the arriero replied, "if I dare----"
"Oh, dare! dare! there's a good fellow! your idea is probably excellent;
for myself, I confess at this moment my mind is as empty as a drum."
"Why, señor, should you not go to the residence of Don Tadeo de Leon, my
master?"
"Pardieu!" cried Valentine, vexed at his own want of thought. "On my
word, you are something like a guide! I do not go to Don Tadeo, because,
simply, I don't know how to find the place, that's all."
"I know, señor; Don Tadeo is most likely at the cabildo."
"By Jove! that's true again; my powers of thought seem to have been
driven out of my head; but which is the way to the cabildo?"
"I will show you, señor."
"That's well! this is an intelligent lad. Let us be moving, my friend."
"Forward, then!" cried the arriero. "_Ea! arrea mula!_" he shouted to
his beasts.
In a few minutes they debouched upon the Plaza Mayor, opposite the
cabildo. The city was still and silent; here and there traces of the
sanguinary contest of the preceding day, heaps of broken furniture, or
large trenches cut in the ground, gave evidence of the ravages caused by
the insurrection. A soldier was marching with slow steps in front of the
cabildo. At sight of the little party, he stopped, and cocked his musket.
"Who goes there?" he shouted sharply.
"_La Patria!_" Valentine replied.
"Go on, then!" said the soldier.
"Hum!" the young man murmured; "it appears not to be such an easy matter
to obtain entrance; never mind," he added, "let us try. My friend," he
said, in an insinuating voice, to the sentinel, who stood motionless
before him; "we have business in the palace."
"Have you the password?"
"Santiago! no," Valentine answered, frankly.
"Then you cannot enter."
"And yet I wish very much to enter."
"Very possibly; but as you have not the password, I advise you to go
on your way; for I swear, if you were the devil in person, I would not
afford you a passage."
"My friend," said the Parisian, in a jeering tone, "you do not talk
logically; if I were the devil, I should stand in no need of the
password--I should get in in spite of you."
"Take care, señor," whispered the arriero; "that soldier is not unlikely
to fire at you."
"Pardieu! that's what I reckon upon," said Valentine, laughing.
The peon looked at him in astonishment; he thought he was mad. The
soldier, annoyed by this long conversation, and believing it of no use
to stand wrangling with these jokers, presented his musket, crying
angrily,--
"For the last time, go on, or I will fire!"
"I am determined I will go in!" Valentine replied, resolutely.
"To arms!" the soldier cried, and fired. Valentine, who had watched
attentively all the soldier's movements, had slipped quickly from his
horse, and the bullet whistled harmlessly over his head. At the cry
of the soldier and the report of his piece, several armed soldiers,
followed by an officer with a lighted lantern in his hand, rushed
tumultuously out of the palace.
"What is going on here?" the officer asked, in a loud voice.
"Ah!" Valentine cried, to whom the voice was not unknown, "is that you,
Don Gregorio?"
"Who calls me?" said the latter; for, in fact, it was he.
"I, Valentine!"
"What! is it you, my friend, who are making all this disturbance?"
replied Don Gregorio, advancing; "I thought it was nothing less than an
attack."
"What the devil was I to do?" said the young man, laughing; "I had not
the password, and I wanted to get in."
"Hum! none but a Frenchman would have such an idea as that."
"Is it not original?"
"Yes, but you risked being killed."
"Bah! we are always risking being killed, and yet we are not," said
Valentine, carelessly; "I recommend my plan to you, under similar
circumstances."
"Much obliged! but I do not think I shall ever try it."
"Ah! there you are wrong."
"Well, then, come in! come in!"
"That is all I want; particularly as I must see Don Tadeo instantly."
"I believe he is asleep."
"He must be awakened."
"Do you bring interesting news, then?"
"Yes," Valentine replied, becoming suddenly serious; "terrible news!"
Don Gregorio, struck with the tone in which the Frenchman had pronounced
these words, had a presentiment of some misfortune, and asked no
further. The arrieros bore the hammock, with Don Louis still asleep,
into the cabildo. By the care of Don Gregorio he was carried to a
bedchamber, and placed in a bed hastily provided.
"What does all this mean?" Don Gregorio said, in astonishment; "is Don
Louis wounded?"
"Yes," Valentine replied, in a husky voice; "he has received two dagger
wounds."
"But how did it all happen?"
"You will soon learn; but pray conduct me instantly to Don Tadeo."
"In heaven's name, come, then! your reserve alarms me."
And, followed by Valentine and Trangoil-Lanec, Don Gregorio plunged into
the labyrinth formed by the numerous corridors of the palace, with which
he seemed well acquainted.