THE EXPLANATION.
There was a short delay, during which the conquerors appeared to be
consulting together in a low voice; while doing so, an Indian chief, who
was no other than the Jester, entered the hall, and uttered a few words
in Comanche.
The general and the capataz were again picked up by the redskins,
and at a sign from one of the masked men, transported on to the
voladero. The appearance of the terrace had entirely changed during the
general's short absence, and offered at this moment a most singular and
picturesque scene.
One hundred and fifty to two hundred Indians, mostly armed with guns,
and ranged in good order round the terrace, the centre of which remained
free, faced the cavern, having among them the disarmed Mexicans, the
baggage, horses, and mules of the caravan.
The tent still stood solitary in the middle of what Was to have been
the encampment; but the curtain Was raised, and a horseman was standing
in front of it, as if to defend the entrance, and protect the precious
articles it contained from pillage.
At the moment when the party emerged from the cave, and appeared on the
terrace, the horsemen drawn up at the entrance of the defile opened
out to the right and left, leaving a passage for a small troop of men
dressed in hunters' garb, and whom it was easy to recognize as white
men, by the colour of their skin, although it was bronzed and freckled
by the sun; two ladies, mounted on ambling mules, were in the midst of
them.
This troop of strangers was composed of eight persons altogether,
leading with them two baggage mules. As the men were disarmed, and
walked on foot amid some fifty Indian horsemen, they had, in all
probability, been surprised by a party of redskins, and made prisoners
in some skilfully-arranged ambuscade.
The two ladies, one of whom was of a certain age while the other
appeared scarce eighteen, and who might be supposed closely related,
through the resemblance of their features, were treated with an
exquisite politeness they were far from expecting by the Indians, and
conducted to the tent, which they were requested to enter. The curtain
was then lowered, to conceal them from the glances of the Indians, whose
expression, although respectful, must necessarily be disagreeable to
them.
The new comers, at a signal from their conductors, ranged themselves
with the other prisoners; they were powerful men with marked features,
whom the Indians had probably not given a chance to fight, otherwise
they looked as if they would sooner be killed than yield.
They displayed neither fear nor depression, but their flashing looks
and frowning brows showed that though they silently submitted to their
fate, they were far from being resigned, and would eagerly seize the
first opportunity to regain the liberty of which they had been so
treacherously deprived.
Still, in spite of the determination they had doubtless formed to remain
indifferent as to what took place around them, they soon felt themselves
interested more than they liked in the strange drama which they
involuntarily witnessed, and whose gloomy preparations were of a nature
to arouse their curiosity to an eminent degree.
At the base of the rocks several blocks of granite had been arranged
in a semicircle, thus forming a resemblance to that terrible Vehmic
tribunal, which in olden times held its formidable assize on the banks
of the Rhine, before which kings and even emperors were at times
summoned to appear, and the resemblance was rendered more striking by
the care the assailants took in hiding their features.
Two masked men took their seats on the granite blocks, and the Indians
who carried the general laid him on the ground in front of this species
of tribunal. The person who seemed to be the president of this sinister
assembly gave a sign, the prisoner's bonds at once fell off, and he
found himself once more able to move his limbs.
The general drew himself up, crossed his hands on his chest, threw his
body back haughtily, raised his head and looked at the men who had
apparently constituted themselves his judges with a glance of withering
contempt.
"What do you want with me, bandits?" he said; "enough of this; these
insolent manoeuvres will not alarm me."
"Silence!" the president said coldly, "it is not your place to speak
thus."
Then he remarked to the Jester, who was standing a few paces from him--
"Bring up the other prisoners, old and new; everybody must hear what is
going to be said to this man."
The Jester gave a signal to the warriors; some of them dismounted,
approached the prisoners, and, after loosening the cord that bound the
capataz, they led him, as well as the peons and the prisoners of the
second caravan, in front of the tribunal, where they ranged themselves
in line. Then, at a signal from the Jester, the horsemen closed up round
the white men, who were thus hemmed in by Comanche warriors.
The spectacle offered by this assemblage of men, with their marked
features and quaint garb, grouped without any apparent regularity on
this voladero, which was suspended as if artificially over a terrible
gulf, and leant against lofty mountains, with their abrupt flanks and
snowy crest, was not without a certain grandeur.
A deadly silence brooded at this moment over the esplanade; all chests
were heaving, every heart was oppressed. Redskins, hunters, and
Mexicans all understood instinctively that a grand drama was about to
be performed; invisible streams could be heard hoarsely murmuring in
the cavern, and at times a gust of wind whistled over the heads of the
horsemen.
The prisoners, affected by a vague and undefined terror, waited with
secret anxiety, not knowing what fate these ferocious victors reserved
for them, but certain that, whatever the decision formed about them
might be, prayers would be impotent to move them, and that they would
have to endure the atrocious torture to which they would doubtless be
condemned.
The president looked round the assembly, rose in the midst of a profound
silence, stretched out his arm towards the general, who stood cold and
passionless before him, and, after darting at him a withering glance
through the holes made in the crape that concealed his face, he said in
a grave, stern, and impressive voice--
"Caballeros, remember the words you are about to hear, listen to them
attentively, so as to understand them, and not to be in error as to our
intentions. In the first place, in order to reassure you and restore
your entire freedom of mind, learn that you have not fallen into the
hands of Indians thirsting for your blood, or of pirates who intend to
plunder you first and assassinate you afterwards. No, you need not feel
the slightest alarm. When you have acted as impartial witnesses, and are
able to render testimony of what you have seen, should it be required,
you will be at liberty to continue your journey, without the forfeiture
of a single article. The men seated on my right and left, although
masked, are brave and honest hunters. The day may perhaps arrive when
you will know them; but reasons, whose importance you will speedily
recognize, compel them to remain unknown for the present. I was bound
to say this, señores, to you, against whom we bear no animosity, before
coming to a final settlement with this man."
One of the travellers belonging to the second caravan stepped forward;
he was a young man, with elegant and noble features, tall and well built.
"Caballero," he answered, in a distinct and sympathizing voice, "I thank
you, in the name of my companions and myself, for the reassuring words
you have spoken. I know how implacable the laws of the desert are, and
have ever submitted to them without a murmur; but permit me to ask you
one question."
"Speak, caballero."
"Is it an act of vengeance or justice you are about to carry out?"
"Neither, señor. It would be an act of folly or weakness if the
inspirations of the heart could be blamed or doubted by honourable and
loyal men."
"Enough of this, señor," the general said, haughtily; "and if you are,
as you assert, an honourable man, show me your face, in order that I
may know with whom I have to deal."
The president shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
"No, Don Sebastian," he said, "for in that case the game would not be
even between us. But be patient, caballero, and soon you will learn, if
not who I am, at any rate the motives which have made me your implacable
foe."
The general attempted to smile, but in spite of himself the smile died
away on his lips, and though his haughty bearing seemed to defy his
unknown enemies, a secret apprehension contracted his heart.
There was a silence for some moments, during which no other sound was
audible save that of the breeze whistling through the denuded branches
and the distant murmur Of the invisible torrents in the quebradas.
The president looked round with flashing eyes, and folding his arms on
his chest at the same time, as he raised his head, he began speaking
again in a sharp, cutting voice, whose accents caused his hearers to
tremble involuntarily. And yet they were brave men, accustomed to the
terrible incidents of a desert life, and whom the most serious dangers
could not have affected.
"Now listen, señores," he said, "and judge this man impartially; but
do not judge him according to prairie law, but in your hearts. General
Don Sebastian Guerrero, who is standing so bold and upright before
you at this moment, is one of the greatest noblemen of Mexico, a
_Cristiano viejo_ of the purest blood, descended in a direct line from
the Spanish Conquistadors. His fortune is immense, incalculable, and he
himself could not determine its amount. This man, by the mere strength
of his will, and the implacable egotism that forms the basis of his
character, has always succeeded in everything he has undertaken. Coldly
and resolutely ambitious, he has covered with corpses the bloody road
he was compelled to follow in order to attain his proposed object, and
he has done so without hesitation or remorse; he has looked on with a
smiling face, when his dearest friends and his nearest relations fell
by his side; for him nothing which men respect exists--faith and honour
are with him but empty sounds. He had a daughter, who was the perfection
of women, and he coldly lacerated that daughter's heart; he fatally
drove her to suicide, and the blood of the poor girl spirted on his
forehead, while he was triumphantly witnessing the legal murder of the
man she loved, and whose death he resolved on, because he refused to
palter with his honour, and aid this man in the infamous treachery he
was meditating. This human-faced tiger, this monster with the mocking,
sceptical face, you see, señores, has only one thought, one object,
one desire--it is, to attain the highest rank, even if, to effect it,
he were compelled to clamber over the panting corpses of his relations
and friends sacrificed to his ambition; and if he cannot carve out an
independent kingdom in this collapsing republic, which is called Mexico,
he wishes to seize, at least, on the supreme magistracy, and be elected
president. If this man's life merely comprised this egotistic ambition
and these infamous schemes to satisfy it, I should content myself
with despising, instead of hating him, and not being able to find an
excuse for him, I should forget him. But no; this man has done more--he
dared to lay hands on a man who was my friend, my brother, the Count
de Prébois Crancé, to whom I have already referred, señores, without
mentioning his name. Unable to conquer the count loyally, despairing of
winning him over to his shameful cause, he at first tried to poison him;
but, not having succeeded, and wishing to come to an end, he forgot that
his daughter, an angel, the sole creature who loved him, and implored
divine mercy for him, was the betrothed wife of the count, and that
killing him would be her condemnation to death. In his horrible thirst
for revenge, he ordered the judicial murder of my friend, and coldly
presided at the execution, not noticing, in the joyous deliverance of
his satisfied hatred, that his daughter had killed herself at his side,
and that he was trampling her corpse beneath his horse's feet. Such is
what this man has done; look at him well, in order to recognize him
hereafter; he is General Don Sebastian Guerrero, military governor of
Sonora."
"Oh!" the audience said involuntarily, as they instinctively recoiled in
horror.
"If this man is the ex-governor of Sonora," the hunter who had already
spoken said, in disgust "he is a wild beast, whom his ferocity has
placed beyond the pale of society, and it is the duty of honest men to
destroy him."
"He must die! he must die!" the newcomers exclaimed.
The general's peons were gloomy and downcast; they hung their heads
sadly, for they did not dare attempt to defend their master, and yet did
not like to accuse him.
The general was still cool and unmoved; he was apparently calm, but a
fearful tempest was raging in his heart. His face was of an earthy and
cadaverous pallor; his brows were contracted till they touched, and his
violet lips were closed, as if he were making violent efforts not to
utter a word, and to restrain his fury from breaking out in insults. His
eyes flashed fire, and then his whole body was agitated by convulsive
movements, but he managed, through his self-command, to conquer his
emotion, and retain the expression of withering contempt, which he had
assumed since the beginning of this scene.
Seeing that his accuser was silent, he took a step forward, and
stretched out his arm, as if he claimed the right of answering. But his
enemy gave him no time to utter a word.
"Wait!" he shouted, "I have not said all yet; now that I have revealed
what you have done, I am bound to render the persons here present judges
not only of what I have done, but also of what I intend to do in future
against you."