AFTER THE INTERVIEW.
The house taken for Valentine by Mr. Rallier was, as we have already
stated, situated in the Calle de Tacuba, and by a strange accident, in
no way premeditated, only a few yards from the mansion belonging to
General Don Sebastian Guerrero. The latter had no suspicion of this,
for until the moment when the hunter thought it advisable to pay him
a visit, he had been completely ignorant of his enemy's presence in
Mexico, in spite of the crowd of spies whom he paid to inform him of his
arrival in the capital.
The hunter, therefore, would only have had a few steps to go to reach
home after leaving the general. But suspecting that the latter might
have given orders to have his carriage followed, he ordered his coachman
to drive to the Alameda, and thence to the Paseo de Bucareli.
As the night was far advanced, the promenaders had abandoned the
shady walks of the Alameda, which was now completely deserted. This,
doubtless, was what the hunter desired, for, on reaching about the
centre of the drive, he ordered the coachman to stop, and got out with
his companions. After recommending him to watch carefully over his mules
(in Mexico people do not use horses for their carriages), and not let
any one approach him, for fear of one of those surprises so frequent at
this hour at this place, the three men then disappeared in one of the
shady walks, though careful not to go too far, so that they could assist
their coachman in case of need.
Valentine, like all men accustomed to desert life, that is to vast
horizons of verdure, had an instinctive distrust of stone walls,
behind which, in his fancy, a spy was continually listening. Hence,
when he had an important affair to discuss, or a serious matter to
communicate to his friends, he preferred--in spite of the care with
which his house had been chosen, and the faithful friends who passed as
servants there--going to the Alameda, the Paseo de Bucareli, the Vega,
or somewhere in the environs of Mexico, where after posting Curumilla
as a sentry, that is to say, the man in whom he had the most perfect
faith, and whose scent, if I may be allowed the term, was infallible, he
believed that he could safely confide his closest secrets to the friends
he conveyed to these strange open air councils.
On reaching a thick clump of trees the hunter stopped.
"We shall be comfortable here," he said, as he sat down on a stone bench
and invited his friends to imitate him, "and shall be able to talk
without fear."
"The trees have eyes, and the leaves ears," Belhumeur answered
sententiously; "I fear nothing so much in the world as these transparent
screens of verdure, which allow everything to be seen and heard."
"Yes," Valentine remarked with a smile, "if you do not take the
precaution to frighten away spies;" and at the same moment he imitated
the soft cadenced hiss of the coral snake.
A similar hiss was heard from the centre of the clump and seemed like an
echo.
"That is the chief's signal," the Canadian said. "He has been watching
for us there for nearly an hour. Do you now believe that we are in
safety?"
"Certainly; when Curumilla watches over us we have no surprise to
apprehend."
"Let us talk, then," said Don Martial.
"One moment," Valentine remarked, "we must first hear the report of a
friend, which is most valuable, and will doubtless decide the measures
we have to adopt."
"Whom are you alluding to?"
"You shall see," Valentine answered, and clapped his hands thrice softly.
Immediately a slight sound and a gentle rustling of leaves was heard in
a neighbouring thicket, and a man suddenly emerged, about four paces
from the hunters. It was Carnero, the capataz of General Guerrero. He
wore a vicuna skin hat, of which the large brim was bent over his eyes,
and he was wrapped up in a spacious cloak.
"Good evening, señores," he said, with a polite bow, "I have been
awaiting your coming for nearly an hour, and almost despaired of seeing
you tonight."
"We were detained longer than we expected by General Guerrero."
"Do you come from him?"
"Did I not tell you I should call on him?"
"Yes; but I hardly believed that you would have the temerity to venture
so imprudently into the lion's den."
"Nonsense," Valentine said with a disdainful smile, "the lion as you
call him, I assure you, was remarkably tame; he drew in his claws
completely, and received us with the most exquisite politeness."
"In that case take care," the capataz replied, with a significant shake
of the head; "if he received you as you say, and I have no reason to
doubt it, he is, be assured, preparing a terrible countermine against
you."
"I am of the same opinion; the question is, whether we shall allow him
the time to act."
"He is very clever, my dear Valentine," the capataz continued, "and
seems to possess an intuition of evil. In spite of the oath I took to
you when, on your entreaty, I consented to remain in his service, there
are days when, although I possess a thorough knowledge of his character,
he terrifies even me, and I feel on the point of giving up the rude task
which, through devotion to you, I have imposed on myself."
"Courage, my friend; persevere but a few days longer, and, believe me,
we shall be all avenged."
"May heaven grant it!" the capataz said with a sigh; "but I confess that
I dare not believe it, even though it is you who assure me of the fact."
"Have you learnt any important news since our last interview?"
"Only one thing, but I think it is of the utmost gravity for you."
"Speak, my friend."
"What I have to tell you is short and gloomy, señores. The general,
after a secret conversation with his man of business, ordered me to
carry a letter to the Convent of the Bernardines."
"To the convent?" Don Martial exclaimed.
"Silence," said Valentine. "Do you know the contents of this letter?"
"Doña Anita gave it me to read. The general informs the abbess that he
is resolved to finish the matter; that whether his ward be mad or not,
he means to marry her, and that at sunrise on the day after tomorrow, a
priest sent by him will present himself at the convent to arrange the
ceremony."
"Great God! what is to be done?" the Tigrero exclaimed sadly; "how is
the execution of this odious machination to be prevented?"
"Silence," Valentine repeated. "Is that all, Carnero?"
"No; the general adds, that he requests the abbess to prepare the young
lady for this union, and that he will himself call at the convent
tomorrow, in order to explain more fully his inexorable wishes--these
are the very words of the letter."
"Very good, my friend, I thank you for this precious information; it is
of the utmost importance that the general should be prevented from going
to the convent before three o'clock of the tarde. You understand, my
friend, this is of vital importance, so you must manage to effect it."
"Do not be uneasy, my dear Valentine; the general shall not go to the
convent before the hour you indicate, whatever may be the means I am
forced to employ to prevent him."
"I count on your promise, my friend; and now good-bye."
He offered him his hand, which the capataz pressed forcibly.
"When shall I see you, again?" he asked.
"I will soon let you know," the hunter answered.
The capataz bowed and went down a walk; the sound of his footsteps
rapidly decreased, and was quite inaudible within a few minutes.
"My friends," Valentine then said, "we have now arrived at the moment
for the final struggle, which we have so long been preparing. We must
not let ourselves be led away by hatred, but act like judges, not as men
who are avenging themselves. Blood demands blood, it is true, according
to the law of the desert; but, remember, however culpable the man whom
we have condemned may be, his death would be an indelible spot, a brand
of infamy which would sully our honour."
"But this monster," the Tigrero exclaimed, with a passion the more
violent because it was repressed, "is beyond the pale of humanity."
"He may re-enter it to repent."
"Are we priests then to practise forgetfulness of insults?" Don Martial
asked with a fiendish grin.
"No, my friend, there are men in the grand and sublime acceptation of
the term; men who have often been faulty themselves, and who, rendered
better by the life of struggling they have led, and the grief which has
frequently bowed them beneath its iron yoke, inflict a chastisement, but
despise vengeance, which they leave to weak and pusillanimous minds. Who
of you, my friends, would dare to say that he has suffered more than I?
To Him alone will I concede the right of imposing his will on me, and
what He bids me do I will do."
"Forgive me, my friend," the Tigrero answered, "you are ever good, ever
great. God, in imposing on you a heavy task, endowed you at the same
time with an energetic soul, and a heart which seems to expand in your
bosom under the blast of adversity, instead of withering. We, however,
are but common men, in whom the sanguinary instinct of the savage
is constantly revealed in spite of all our efforts, and who know no
other law save that of retaliation. Forget the senseless words my lips
uttered, and be assured that I will ever joyfully obey you, whatever
you may command, persuaded as I am, that you can only ask the man who
has utterly placed himself in your power to do just actions."
The hunter, while his friend was speaking thus in a voice broken by
emotion, had let his head fall on his hands, and seemed absorbed in
gloomy and painful thought.
"I have nothing to forgive you, my friend," he replied in a gentle,
sympathizing voice, "for through my own sufferings I can understand what
yours are. I, too, often feel my heart bound with wrath and indignation;
for, believe me, my friend, I have a constant struggle to wage against
myself, not to let myself be led away to make a vengeance of what must
only be a punishment. But enough on this head; time presses, and we must
arrange our plans, so as not to be foiled by our enemies. I went today
to the palace, where I had a secret conversation with the President of
the Republic, whom, as you are aware, I have known for many years, and
who honours me with a friendship of which I am far from believing myself
worthy. At the end of our interview he handed me a paper, a species of
blank signature, by the aid of which I can do what I think advisable for
the success of our plans."
"Did you obtain such a paper?"
"I have it in my pocket. Now, listen to me. You will go at sunrise
tomorrow to the house of Don Antonio Rallier; he will be informed of
your coming, and you will follow his instructions."
"And you?"
"Do not be anxious about my movements, good friend, and only think of
your own business, for, I repeat, the decisive moment is approaching.
The day after tomorrow begins the feast of the anniversary of Mexican
Independence; that is to say, on that day we shall do battle with our
enemy, and meet him face to face; and the combat will be a rude one, for
this man has a will of iron, and a terrible energy. We shall be able
to conquer him, but not to subdue him, and if we do not take care he
will slip through our hands like a serpent; hence our personal affairs
must be finished tomorrow. Though apparently absent, I shall be really
near you, that is to say, I will help you with all my power. Still, do
not forget that you must act with the most extreme prudence, and, above
all, the greatest moderation; a second of forgetfulness would ruin you,
by alarming the innumerable spies scattered round the Convent of the
Bernardines. I trust that you have heard and understood me, my friend?"
"Yes, Don Valentine."
"And you will act as I recommend?"
"I promise it."
"Reflect, that you are perhaps risking the loss of your future
happiness."
"I will not forget your recommendation, I swear to you; I am risking too
great a stake in this game, which must decide my future life, to let
myself be induced to commit any act of violence."
"Good; I am happy to hear you speak thus; but have confidence, my
friend, I feel certain that we shall succeed."
"May heaven hear you!"
"It always hears those who appeal to it with a pure heart and a lively
faith. Hope, I tell you; and now, my dear Don Martial, permit me to say
a few words to our worthy friend, Belhumeur."
"I will withdraw."
"What for? have I any secrets from you? You can hear what I am going to
say to him."
"You have nothing to say to me, Valentine," the hunter said, with a
shake of his head, "nothing but what I know already; I have no other
interest in what is about to take place beyond the deep friendship that
attached me to the count and now to you. You think that the recollection
I have preserved of our unhappy friend cannot be sufficiently engraven
on my heart for me to risk my life at your side in avenging him; but you
are mistaken, Valentine, that's all. I will not abandon you in the hour
of combat; I will remain at your side even should you order me to leave
you. I tell you that I swear, and have taken an oath to that effect, to
make a shield of my body to protect you, if it should be necessary. Now,
give me your hand, and suppose we say no more about it?"
Valentine remained silent for a moment; a scalding tear ran down his
bronzed cheeks, and he took the hand of the honest, simple-minded
Canadian, and merely uttered the words--
"Thank you; I accept."
They then rose, and returned to their carriage, after Valentine had
warned his faithful bodyguard, Curumilla, by a signal that he could
leave his hiding place, as the interview was over. A quarter of an hour
later the three gentlemen reached the house in the Calle de Tacuba, were
Curumilla was already awaiting them.