THE PRISONER.
We must now explain to our readers what happened after the fall of Don
Fernando Carril, when he was made the victim of an ambuscade.
When his hand was no longer able to raise his sword, and he had fallen
by the side of his companion, the men in masks--who had been chary of
approaching too near him, out of respect for the blade he wielded so
well, as proved by the bodies of four bandits lying on the sand beside
him? rushed all at once upon him.
Don Fernando Carril lay on his back showing no signs of life. A deadly,
pallor overspread his noble features; his half-opened lips disclosed
his clenched teeth; blood was flowing in torrents from the many wounds
he had received; and his hand still clasped the weapon with which he
had so long held his assailants at bay.
"_¡Caspita!_" cried one, looking at him attentively; "Here is a young
gentleman who is seriously hurt. What will the master say?"
"What would you have him say, Señor Carlocho?" said another; "He
defended himself like a lion. It is his own fault. He ought to have let
himself be taken nicely, and all this would not have happened. Look! we
have lost four men."
"A pretty loss indeed, those four fellows there! I would rather he had
killed six than be in the state he is now."
"The devil!" muttered the other bandit; "That is no compliment to us,
you know."
"That will do; that will do. Help me to bind up his wounds as well as
we can, and lose no time about it. This is no wholesome place for us;
besides we are expected elsewhere; so be quick."
Without further discussion, the bandits hastened to obey the orders
of Carlocho. Don Fernando's wounds were bound up somehow; he was
thrown across the horse of the _guacho_, who seemed to be leader of
the expedition, and the party set off at full gallop, without further
heed of those who had fallen in the struggle, and whose bodies were
abandoned to the beasts of prey.
After a very rapid ride of two hours, they reached an abandoned
_rancho_.
Two men were awaiting their arrival with impatience.
These two men were Tigercat and Don Torribio.
"Well!" shouted the former, as soon as he saw them.
"It is done!" said Carlocho laconically, as he dismounted, took Don
Fernando in his arms, and carried him to a bed of leaves.
The latter showed no signs of life.
"Is he dead?" asked the Tigercat.
Carlocho shook his head.
"He is hardly better than dead," he replied.
"Wretch!" cried the Indian chief in a fury; "Is it thus you execute my
orders? Did I not command you to take him alive?"
"Hm!" said Carlocho; "I only wish you had been there to see! An
incarnate demon, who, armed only with a thin rapier, withstood us for
more than twenty minutes, and only gave in after killing four of our
bravest!"
The Tigercat smiled disdainfully.
"You are all cowards," he said.
And turning his back on the _vaquero_, he went up to Don Fernando.
Don Torribio was already at his side.
"Is he dead?" he asked.
"No," replied the Mexican; "but nearly so."
"So much the worse," muttered the old chief, "I would give a good deal
for his recovery."
Don Torribio looked at him with astonishment.
"Of what importance is the life of this man to us?" he said. "Was he
not your enemy?"
"The very reason why I do not wish him to die."
"I do not understand you."
"I have devoted my life to the accomplishment of an idea; therefore
I no longer belong to myself, and am bound to offer up my hate and
friendship to my idea."
"I admit that, up to a certain point: but how is it, then, that you
have laid a trap for this man, who, according to your own account, is a
traitor."
"Are men always to be harshly judged, even by those who are most
intimate with them?" said the old chief, with a bitter smile. "What is
it to me that the man may be a traitor? By putting him out of the way,
without touching his life, I should have gained the end I had before
me when I sought your alliance. After keeping him a prisoner for a
few days, to prevent his counteracting your plans, and hindering your
marriage with Doña Hermosa, I should have restored him to freedom.
Unluckily, it is too late now: what is done cannot be undone. The death
of this man, obscurely slain in ambuscade, will do more to frustrate
my plans than you imagine. His blood be upon your head! It is you who
ordered this murder."
"I!" replied Don Torribio. "You are mad!"
The Tigercat looked at his new ally with a stare of surprise, shrugged
his shoulders, and whistled a Mexican _seguidilla_. It was evident that
Don Torribio had not understood a word of what had been uttered by
this singular man, whose sole delight had hitherto been in slaughter.
"Pooh!" said he; "What does one, more or less, signify?"
The Indian chief stooped over the body of the wounded man, and examined
it carefully. The eyes were closed, and the features had the paleness
and rigidity of death. Two or three _vaqueros_, aided by Carlocho,
rubbed his temples and chest incessantly with rum.
After looking at the body attentively, the old chief drew a knife
from his girdle, held the blade for two or three minutes across the
mouth, withdrew it again, and examined it. He thought it was slightly
tarnished; then he knelt down by Don Fernando, seized his left arm,
ripped up the sleeve, and, having felt for the vein, pricked it with
the delicate point of his knife.
Then followed an instant of anxious suspense. The looks of all were
fixed on the wounded man. This attempt would be the last; if it did not
succeed, all was over: he knew of no other means to recall him to life.
The _vaqueros_ continued the friction.
At the puncture made by the chief's knife, there appeared at last a
dark speck; little by little it increased in size, till it grew into a
black point, which finally became a bead of jet: this trembled for a
moment, and then fell rolling down the arm, pressed forward by another
which succeeded it, and immediately made room for a third; then the
blood grew less black and less thick, and finally gushed out in a long
vermillion stream.
The Tigercat could not repress a shout of triumph; Don Fernando was
saved. In fact, after the lapse of a minute, the latter moved slightly
and uttered a deep sigh.
The Indian chief rose, after binding up Don Fernando's arm and signed
to Pablito to follow him into another compartment of the _rancho_,
requesting Don Torribio to remain for a time where he was.
Without waiting for the question which the _vaquero_ was about to ask,
and which he saw playing about his finely chiselled lips, the chief
began to speak with a feverish haste, betraying the secret agitation of
his mind.
"You see what has happened," he said.
"But you yourself willed it so!" said Pablito, utterly surprised.
"Yes, I did will it; and I thank God for having spared me this odious
crime!"
"If you are satisfied, all will go well."
"But here is another matter. Remember this: Don Torribio must be kept
in the dark. To all the world, and to this man in particular, Don
Fernando is dead."
"Speak on; I think I understand you."
"Don Fernando's wounds, though many, are not severe. The loss of blood,
and the speed with which he was brought hither, are the sole causes of
the lethargy into which he has fallen, and out of which he will soon
awake."
"Good; Now, what am I to do?"
"He must not see me."
"Very good; nothing can be easier."
"Nor must he recognise you."
"That will be more difficult; he knows me well."
"It is most important."
"I will try."
"And now, this is what you have to do."
"I am all attention."
"I must leave this place immediately; my presence is required
elsewhere. As for you, you will have Don Fernando carried to the
_presidio_, without his learning who has taken him thither."
"To the _presidio_?" exclaimed Pablito, astonished.
"Yes; it is the safest place," said the chief, drawing forth a paper
cut to a certain shape; "you will take him to my house. He must not
leave it on any pretence: above all, he must not know he is at the
_presidio_."
"Is that all?"
"It is. Only, remember, you are answerable to me for him."
"Very well. At your orders I will produce him, alive or dead."
"Alive! His life is precious to me."
"Then I will do my best."
"And now, Pablito, be honest with me. Can I trust you?"
"Well," said Pablito, "since you are so much concerned about such a
wretched affair, I will answer for your prisoner."
"Then farewell, and thanks," said the Tigercat; "above all, remember
to report to me tonight, in Don Torribio's presence, that his enemy is
dead."
"Rely upon me for that."
"No, no," muttered the old chief to himself; "he must not die: his life
is too necessary for the accomplishment of my revenge."
He rejoined Don Torribio, who had grown impatient. Without exchanging
a word, the two mounted the magnificent mustangs that were waiting for
them, and disappeared amongst the foliage.
Pablito, twisting his moustache in ill humour, returned to the wounded
man; the office intrusted to him was evidently unpalatable. However,
as the _vaquero_ was an honest man enough, after his own fashion, and
prided himself, among the numerous other good qualities he fancied he
possessed, most especially on his adherence to his word, the thought of
breaking it never entered his mind.
"How is he?" he asked Carlocho in a whisper.
"A great deal better," replied the latter. "It is astonishing how much
good the bleeding has done him; he has already opened his eyes twice
and tried to speak."
"Hm! Then we have no time to lose. Put a bandage round the eyes of this
fellow, and then, lest he should use his hands to remove it, tie them
down to his sides. But, as this is only to be done for prudence' sake,
I recommend you to use as much gentleness and delicacy as your nature
is capable of. Do you understand perfectly?"
"Yes, _¡canarios!_ One need not be a wizard to do that!"
"Well, make haste! I give you five minutes to obey my orders: in ten we
shall be gone."
The wounded man had indeed recovered a good deal of his strength. As
the chief had declared, his wounds were not severe, and the loss of
blood alone had occasioned the prostration in which he was lying.
Little by little he had recovered his senses sufficiently to know
into whose hands he had fallen; and although too feeble to offer the
slightest opposition whatever to the bandits at his side, his presence
of mind had returned in a degree to enable him to comprehend that the
greatest circumspection was necessary, to avoid arousing the suspicions
as to his state in people who would not for a moment hesitate to
sacrifice him to their safety.
So, when Carlocho, according to the injunctions of Pablito, passed a
folded handkerchief over his eyes, and bound his hands, he feigned
entire insensibility, and allowed them to do as they pleased with him,
secretly rejoiced at these precautions, which indicated that his life
was safe for the present.
"Now, what is to be done?" asked Carlocho.
"Two or three of you take up the wounded man, and carry him carefully
to the boat I have in waiting close by. And pay particular attention to
him, you fellows; for, at the first jolt, I will blow your brains out."
"_Caray!_" was all the _vaquero_ could utter, for surprise.
"Ah!" said Pablito, with a shrug of his shoulders; "As you were fools
enough not to kill him when you might have done so, so much the worse
for you: now you shall mount guard over him. That shall teach you to
introduce courtesy, or, if you like it better, clumsiness, into an
ambuscade the next time."
Carlocho opened his eyes wide at this rodomontade, which he could not
understand, but hastened to obey the order.
Don Fernando was carried thus into a boat by Pablito, Carlocho, and a
third _vaquero;_ while the remainder went off by land, taking their
comrades' horses with them. Three hours later, the prisoner, to whom
his keepers had not spoken a word during the journey, was carried into
the _presidio_, and shut up in a house lately hired by the Tigercat in
a fictitious name--a circumstance of which Don Fernando knew nothing.
The bandage was taken from his eyes, his hands were freed; but a man in
a mask, mute as a tomb, was placed in his chamber, and never left him.
The wounded man, harassed by the journey, and weakened by the blood he
had lost, resolved, for the present, to trust to chance for relief from
his annoying and incomprehensible situation. He gave that apparently
listless but all-observant glance around him which is peculiar to
prisoners, and dropped off into a deep sleep, lasting many hours, and
restoring to his mind all its coolness and original clearness.
The people who served him, though masked and dumb, took the greatest
care of him, and seemed to vie with each other in their endeavours to
comply with his wishes, and satisfy his most capricious whims. In
point of fact, his position was tolerable; at bottom, there was a spice
of originality about it; and Don Fernando, convinced, at the end of two
days' experience, that no attempt would be made on his life, but that,
on the contrary, every effort was made to heal his wounds as quickly
as possible, concluded to bear his lot bravely, in the expectation of
better times.
The third day of his captivity, Don Fernando, whose wounds were only
sword cuts, and now nearly cicatrised, rose from his bed, partly to try
his strength, and partly to look out and discover where he was: it was
requisite to know the locality, in order to mature the scheme of escape
he was already secretly planning.
The weather was magnificent; the hot sunlight shone cheerfully in at
the windows, tracing the bars on the floor of the chamber which served
as his prison. It made him feel quite refreshed, and he tried to walk
a few steps, still carefully watched by his inevitable guard, whose
flaming eyes were never off him. Suddenly a terrible clamour arose, and
a round of artillery shook the panes.
"What is that?" asked Don Fernando.
His keeper shrugged his shoulders, but did not reply.
The sharp cracking of muskets was now mingled with the roar of the
guns; and it became evident that a hard fight was going on somewhere
in the neighbourhood. His keeper, imperturbable as ever, closed the
windows.
Don Fernando went up to him. The two men stared at each other for a
moment. Many a time had the wounded man addressed a question to this
stolid sentry without eliciting an answer, and now he hesitated a
little before making a fresh attempt.
"Friend," said he, at last, in a gentle voice, "what is going on out of
doors?"
The man remained mute.
"Answer me, in the name of Heaven!" continued the querist; "I ask but
little. Surely you would not overstep your instructions by telling me
thus much?"
Just then the clamour seemed to draw nearer; hurried steps, mingled
with outcries, sounded close at hand. His keeper rose uneasily, drew
his machete (knife) from its sheath, pulled a pistol from his belt, and
went towards the door; but on a sudden it was violently opened, and a
man rushed into the room, his face blanched with terror.
"Up! On your guard;" cried he; "we are lost!"
His keeper made a sign for Don Fernando to keep back, and placed
himself resolutely in front of the door, where four men, masked and
armed to the teeth, had just made their appearance.
"Back!" cried the keeper; "No one enters here without a watchword!"
"Here you have it," answered one of the men at the door, as, with a
pistol, he blew out the keeper's brains.
The four men stepped over his body, seized and bound his comrade, who
had crouched down in the farthest corner of the room, and advanced to
Don Fernando, who was wondering at the strange scene.
"You are at liberty, caballero," said one of the four. "Come, you must
leave this house at once."
"First of all, who are you?" replied Don Fernando; "Who are you, who
proclaim yourselves my liberators?"
"We have no time for explanations," answered the man in the mask. "Make
haste and follow us."
"Not before I know who you are."
The other gave an impatient stamp, and, stooping down, whispered in his
ear:
"Madman! Have you no wish to see Doña Hermosa again?"
Don Fernando reddened with pleasure.
"I follow you," said he.
"Here," said the mask, "take these pistols and this sword; we have not
done our work yet. We may still have fighting before us."
"Yes!" exclaimed Don Fernando joyfully; "I now see that you are really
sent to save me. I will follow wherever you may lead." And he seized
the weapons, and placed them in his girdle.
They hastily left the house.
"What!" cried Don Fernando, as he put his foot out of doors, "Am I at
the _presidio_ of San Lucar?"
"Did you not know it?" asked his guide.
"How was it possible? I was brought here with my eyes bandaged."
In the court several horses, ready saddled, were tied to rings in the
wall.
"Could you keep your saddle?" said the stranger.
"I hope so," replied Don Fernando.
"You must," said the stranger peremptorily.
"Then I will, even if I die in it."
"Good: let us mount and be gone."
At the very moment they were issuing into the street, a troop of ten or
twelve mounted men were coming up at full gallop: they were not more
than twenty paces off.
"Here are the enemy," said the stranger in deep and low tones; "we must
charge and ride over them, or die."
The five men formed in line, and rushed like a thunderbolt upon the
newcomers, at whom they discharged their pistols point-blank, and then
cut their way with the sword.
"_¡Caray!_" screamed Pablito, in a fury--for it was he who commanded
the troop--"My prisoner is escaping."
Spurring his horse, he dashed at Don Fernando. But the latter, without
drawing bridle, fired a pistol; and the _vaquero's_ horse, struck by a
ball in the forehead, rolled to the ground, bearing his rider with him.
Pablito rose, half killed by the fall. The men who had attacked him so
briskly had disappeared.
"Never mind; I shall find them again," he cried.
In the meantime, the fugitives had reached the bank of the river, and
found a boat waiting for them.
"We must part here," said the stranger, taking off his mask.
"Estevan!" cried Don Fernando.
"Myself," replied the _mayor domo_. "This boat will take you to the
Hacienda del Cormillo. Go there without delay, and," he added, as he
placed in his hands a paper folded into four, "read this attentively;
perhaps you will have to come to the rescue in your turn."
"Be assured on that score: I have my revenge to take."
"Farewell, my friend."
"Shall I see Doña Hermosa?"
"I am forbidden to talk on the subject."
"Another question, then. Do you know who kept me prisoner?"
"Yes; there were two--the Tigercat and Don Torribio."
"Indeed!" said Don Fernando, frowning. "I will not forget them. Once
more, thanks Estevan."
He sat down in the boat, and gave a sign to the rowers. They were soon
in rapid motion, and speedily lost in the shadows of the darkening
night.
Three persons remained on the bank anxiously watching the course of the
frail boat. These three persons were Estevan Diaz, Doña Hermosa, and Ña
Manuela.