THE HAND OF GOD.
We will now return to the hacendero and the Mexican encampment. When
Don Pedro awoke in the morning, Ña Manuela reported Stoneheart's
departure in company with her son.
"I feared something of the sort," said Don Pedro sighing; "Don Fernando
was so preoccupied last night. I am glad your son has gone with him,
Manuela, for it is a perilous expedition. God grant they may bring me
back my daughter! Yet I cannot help thinking it would have been better
to have consulted me before they left. We have here twenty bold men,
who would certainly have been able to do more than two unsupported men,
however brave they may be."
"I am of a different opinion," replied Ña Manuela. "Surprises are
the chief element of wars in the wilderness, and two men can often
succeed by means of their apparent weakness, which allows them to pass
unnoticed, when numbers would fail. However, they will not be long
absent, and we shall have certain news of the _niña_."
"Please God they be good! Manuela, if I should lose my daughter, in
addition to my former woes, I could not survive it."
"Drive away these sombre thoughts, señor; Providence watches over us
all. I hope we shall not be abandoned in our affliction."
"After all," said Don Pedro, "as we are forced to remain inactive, we
must exert our patience till our stragglers return."
The day passed without any incident worthy of record. El Zapote, who
had gone hunting at daybreak, returned with an elk.
The next day, about ten in the morning, an unarmed Indian presented
himself before the sentries, demanding speech of Don Pedro. The latter
ordered him to be brought forward. The redskin was an Apache, of
cunning features and reckless manner. Brought into the presence of the
hacendero, who at that moment was talking to the _capataz,_ he stood
motionless and with downcast eyes, waiting with the cold impassiveness
characteristic of his race, till they should speak to him. The
hacendero scrutinised him attentively. The Indian was perfectly
indifferent to the scrutiny.
"What does my brother want? What is his name?" asked don Pedro.
"El Zopilote is an Apache brave," replied the redskin; "the _sachem_ of
his tribe sends him to the chief of the palefaces."
"I am the chief of the palefaces. Tell your mission to me."
"Hear what the Tigercat says," replied the immoveable Apache.
"The Tigercat!" exclaimed Don Pedro greatly astonished; "What can he
want of me?"
"If my father will listen, El Zopilote will tell him."
"I will listen. Speak Zopilote."
"Thus says the Tigercat: a cloud has arisen between the Tigercat and
the chief of the palefaces, who have come into the hunting grounds of
my tribe. As the beneficent rays of the sun disperse the clouds that
obscure the heavens, so, if wise paleface will smoke the calumet of
peace with the Tigercat, the cloud between them will disappear, and the
war hatchet be buried so deep, that it shall not be found again for a
thousand moons and ten. I have said: I await the answer of my father
with the beard of snow."
"Indian!" replied Don Pedro, in accents of sadness, "Your chief has
done me much harm, yet I know not the cause of his hatred to me. But
Heaven forbid I should reject his proposal, if he entertains the wish
to end the difference existing between us. Bid him come; and say I am
ready to offer reparation for injury I may have done him without my
will or knowledge."
The Apache listened with evident attention to the words of the
hacendero. When the latter ceased, he answered: "_Wagh!_ My father has
spoken well. Wisdom has taken up her abode in him. The chief will come;
but who will insure his safety when in the camp of the palefaces,--he
alone, with twenty _Yarri_ (Spanish) braves around him!"
"My word of honour, redskin; my word of honour,--which is worth more
than all your chief could give me," said Don Pedro haughtily.
"My father's word is good; his tongue is not forked. The Tigercat asks
no more; he will come."
Having uttered these words with Indian emphasis, the Apache warrior
bowed profoundly, and retired with the same quiet step which marked his
coming.
"What do you think of that Luciano?" said Don Pedro, as soon as they
were alone.
"By Heavens, señor! I think it conceals some Indian devilry. I fear the
white who changes his colour, and turns redskin, a hundred times words
than the true Indian. I never liked chameleons."
"Right, Luciano! But we are placed in a difficult position. Before
all things I must have my daughter; for her sake I must overlook many
things."
"True, señor! Nevertheless, you know as well as I, that the Tigercat is
a miscreant without faith or honour. Do not trust him too far."
"I am obliged to trust him. Have I not given my word?"
"You have," growled the _capataz;_ "but I have not given mine!"
"Be cautious, Luciano; and, above all things, do not excite his
suspicions."
"Make yourself easy on that score, señor. Your honour is as dear to me
as my own; but I dare not leave you without means of defence, though it
please you to trust yourself with a wretch as determined as he."
With these words, the _capataz_ cut short the conversation, and left
the _jacal_, to prevent further remarks from his master. "Ha!" said he,
as he met El Zapote; "You are the very man I want, my friend!"
"Me, _capataz!_ That is capital! What is to be done?"
"Come with me a while," replied the _capataz;_ "I must tell you the
matter where we cannot be overheard."
An hour later,--that is to say, a little after eleven in the
morning,--the Tigercat arrived at the camp, as El Zopilote had
asserted. The chief was dressed as a _gambucino_, and carried no
weapons--at least, none were visible.
As soon as the sentinels recognised him, they allowed him to pass, and
led him to the _capataz_, who was walking backwards and forwards. The
Tigercat cast a scrutinising look around him the moment he entered the
camp. Everything seemed in its usual state, and the chief saw nothing
to excite suspicion. He approached the _capataz_.
"What do you want here?" asked Don Luciano roughly.
"I wish to speak to Don Pedro de Luna," quickly replied the Tigercat.
"Good! Follow me; he expects you."
Without further ceremony, the _capataz_ led him to the _jacal_.
"Enter," said he; "you will find Don Pedro there."
"Who is there?" said a voice from within.
"Señor," replied the _capataz_, "it is the Indian who asked the favour
of a conversation with the chief. Come, enter!" he added, addressing
the Tigercat.
The latter made no observation, but went into the _jacal_ with the
_capataz_.
"You asked to speak with me," began Don Pedro.
"I did," said the chief in a gloomy tone; "but with you alone."
"This man is one of my oldest servants; he has my entire confidence."
"What I have to say must be told to no other ears than yours."
"Retire, Luciano," said don Pedro; "but remain near at hand."
The _capataz_ cast a look of rage at the Tigercat, and left the _jacal_
grumbling.
"Now that we are alone," said Don Pedro, "you can speak openly to me."
"I intend to do so," said the chief in harsh accents.
"Are you come to speak of my daughter?"
"Of her and others," replied the Tigercat in the same tone.
"All this is a mystery, chief; explain!"
"It will not be long before I do so; for I have longed, panted for the
opportunity to meet you face to face. Look at me well, Don Pedro; do
you not recognise me?"
"I believe I never saw you before you received me as a guest in the
_teocali_."
The chief laughed savagely. "Have years changed me so much? Has the
name of Tigercat obliterated my own so thoroughly that that too is
forgotten? As Don Guzman de Ribera became Don Pedro de Luna, why should
not Don Leoncio de Ribera become the Tigercat, brother?"
"What words are these?" exclaimed Don Pedro, rising in terror. "What
name have you uttered?"
"I have said that which is," coldly answered the chief. "The name I
utter is mine."
Don Pedro gazed at him with pitiful regret. "Unhappy man!" he sighed;
"How have you fallen so low?"
"You are wrong, brother," replied the Tigercat, with a sneer; "on the
contrary, I have risen to be the _sachem_ of an Indian tribe. Long,
long have I waited for my revenge! Twenty years I have watched; but
today I have it--today it is complete!"
"Your revenge, miserable man!" answered Don Pedro indignantly; "What
revenge would you against me?--you, who attempted to seduce my wife;
you, who sought to slay me; and who, lastly, to crown your infamy, have
borne away my daughter!"
"You forget to name your son, whom I also carried away,--your sin, Don
Fernando Carril, in whom I have contrived to excite a passion for his
sister, and who has been these two days alone with her at the Voladero
de las Ánimas. Aha! Don Guzman, what say you to that revenge?"
"Woe, woe!" exclaimed Don Pedro, wringing his hands in his despair.
"Brother and sister in love with each other; licensed by you, Don
Guzman, and married by me! Aha!" and he burst into a horrid laugh, that
sounded like the howl of the hyena.
"It is too horrible," cried Don Pedro, in the depths of despair. "It
is a lie, wretch! Bandit as you are, you dare not meditate a crime so
terrible! You are but a boasting miscreant! Your tale cannot be true;
to believe it, would be to doubt the justice of Heaven!"
"You do not believe my words, brother?" replied the Tigercat in a
sarcastic tone. "As you please. Here come your children; I hear them
entering the camp; ask them."
Don Pedro, half-mad with grief, was rushing out of the _jacal_ when
Stoneheart, Doña Hermosa, and Don Estevan appeared at the entrance: the
unhappy father was stopped by the shock.
"Look!" said the Tigercat, with his usual sneer; "Look how he receives
his children! Is that his love?"
Doña Hermosa had thrown herself into her father's arms, and tearfully
embraced him; without seeing the Tigercat. "My father, my father!" she
cried; "God be praised that I see you once more!"
"Who speaks of God here?" said Don Pedro in a hollow voice, and shaking
off his daughter, who tottered from him.
Doña Hermosa looked round in affright. Pale and trembling, she would
have fallen, if Stoneheart had not hastened to support her.
"Look, how they love each other!" sneered the Tigercat. "It is
touching! Don Fernando, throw your arms around your father;" and he
pointed to Don Pedro.
"He my father!" cried Stoneheart, overjoyed; "Oh, it would be too much
happiness!"
"Yes," said the Tigercat; "Don Pedro is your father, and here is your
sister!" As he said this, he pointed to Doña Hermosa and again burst
into a diabolical laugh.
The two young people were thunderstruck. Don Pedro, whose nervous
system had received a violent shock from the first revelation, felt his
reason deserting him. He seemed neither to see nor hear, and to take no
notice of the strange scene enacting around him. The Tigercat exulted
in his triumph. Don Estevan, alarmed at the hacendero's state, thought
it high time to interfere. "Don Pedro," said he in a loud voice and
forcibly laying his hand on the old man's shoulder, "collect yourself;
this miscreant is a liar! Your children are worthy of your name. I was
with them at the Voladero."
Don Pedro seemed to make a mighty effort to resume his grasp on
the senses which were leaving him. His body underwent a terrible
convulsion. He turned his face towards Stoneheart, and a heavy sigh
burst from his heart; then tears flowed down his venerable cheeks, and
he cried in feeble accents, as he fell on the breast of his son, "Yours
is the truth, Estevan; the truth, the truth!"
"I swear it, Don Pedro!" was the solemn reply.
"Thanks, thanks! I knew the miscreant lied. My children--"
The two young people threw themselves into his arms, and loaded him
with caresses.
The Tigercat, with his arms crossed on his chest, looked on with his
sardonic leer, and said ironically: "They love each other, brother; let
them marry."
"They have a right to do so!" exclaimed a ringing voice. All turned in
amazement. Ña Manuela had entered the _jacal_. "Yes," said she, turning
with an air of mockery to the Tigercat, who stood appalled, he knew not
why, at the sudden apparition; "the day of judgment has come at last!
I have waited for it patiently; but justice shall be done, and it is I
whom God has chosen to manifest his power!"
All present gazed with admiration and respect at the woman, who seemed
completely transfigured. Her face was radiant; her eyes flashed
lightning. With calm and imposing steps, she approached the hacendero.
"Don Pedro! my much-loved master," said she in a voice scarcely
intelligible from emotion; "forgive me! I have made you suffer, oh,
how long! But God inspired me! It is He, and only He, who dictated my
conduct. Don Fernando is not your son; he is mine! Your son"--and she
brought forward Don Estevan--"is here!"
"Don Estevan!" cried all present.
"A lie!" howled the Tigercat
"It is the truth," briefly replied Ña Manuela. "Hatred is blind, Don
Leoncio. You took away the poor nurse's child when you thought you had
stolen your brother's. Look at Estevan, all you who knew his mother,
and deny, if you dare, that he is her son."
In truth, the likeness was striking. Up to the time, Estevan's position
had blinded their eyes; there was no reason to seek for a resemblance
to anyone: but now, when the veil had fallen, they recognised whence he
sprung.
"But you will always be my mother!" cried Estevan, with much feeling.
"Mother!" exclaimed Fernando, throwing himself into her arms.
Don Pedro's joy knew no bounds.
The Tigercat, forced to confess himself foiled, uttered a howl like a
wild beast. "Aha!" cried he, beside himself with rage, "Is it to be
thus? But it is not over yet!" He drew a poniard from his garments, and
threw himself with all his force on Don Pedro, who, in his joy, had
forgotten his presence.
But an eye watched him. Don Luciano had stolen into the _jacal_, and
noiselessly placed himself behind the bandit, whose every movement he
carefully watched. As the Tigercat made his spring, he threw his arms
around him, and pinioned him, in spite of the desperate efforts made
by the miserable wretch. At the same moment, the _vaquero_ bounded
into the _jacal_, knife in hand, and, before anyone could arrest him,
plunged it up to the hilt in his throat. "Not bad;" he exclaimed. "The
opportunity was too good to lose! My _navajada_ was never given so
fairly! I hope this blow will gain me pardon for the others."
The Tigercat remained standing a moment, swaying hither and thither,
like a half-uprooted oak tottering to its fall. He rolled his eyes
around him, in which rage still strove with the agony that made them
haggard. He made one last effort to pronounce a terrible malediction,
but his mouth contracted horribly; a stream of dark blood spouted from
his yawning throat; he fell at his full length on the ground, where
he writhed for a moment like a crushed reptile, to the inconceivable
horror of the spectators. Then all was still: he was dead; but on his
face, distorted by the death pang, unutterable hatred survived the life
which had just quitted him.
"Justice is done," said Manuela, with trembling accents. "It is the
hand of God!"
"Let us pray for him," said Don Pedro, falling on his knees.
All present, impressed by this noble and simple action, followed his
example, and knelt by his side.
The _vaquero_, having finished his part in the scene, thought
it prudent to disappear, but not without exchanging a glance of
intelligence with the _capataz_, who smiled grimly under his gray
moustache.