ON THE ROAD.
All the scruples of the Mother Superior--honourable scruples, let us
hasten to add--having thus been removed, one after the other, by Mr.
Rallier, by means of the double orders he had been careful to provide
himself with, the next thing was to see about getting the two boarders
away without further day.
The abbess, who understood the importance of a speedy conclusion,
left her visitors in the parlour, and, in order to avoid any
misunderstanding, herself undertook to fetch the two young ladies, after
giving a lay sister orders to call the carriage into the first courtyard.
In a religious community, one of women before all--we do not mean
this satirically--whatever may be done, and whatever precautions may
be taken, nothing can long be kept a secret. Hence, the two gentlemen
had scarcely entered the speaking room of the abbess ere the rumour of
the departure of Doña Anita and Doña Helena spread among the nuns with
extreme rapidity. Who spread the news no one could have told, and yet
everybody spoke about it as a certainty.
The young ladies were naturally the first informed. At the outset their
anxiety was great, and Doña Anita trembled, for she believed that
she was fetched by order of her guardian, and that the monk speaking
with the abbess was the one sent by the general to make immediate
preparations for her marriage. Hence, when the abbess entered Doña
Helena's cell, she found the pair in each other's arms, and weeping
bitterly.
Fortunately, the mistake was soon cleared up, and the sorrow converted
into joy when the abbess, who, through sympathy, wept as much as
her boarders, explained that of the two strangers, whom they feared
so greatly, one was the brother of Doña Helena, and the other the
Franciscan monk whom Doña Anita had already seen, and that they had
come, not to add to her sufferings, but to remove her from the tyranny
that oppressed her.
Doña Helena, on hearing that her brother was at the convent, bounded
with joy, and removed her friend's last doubts, for, like all unhappy
persons. Doña Anita clung greedily to this new hope of salvation, which
was thus allowed to germinate in her heart at a moment when she believed
that she had no chance left of escaping her evil destiny.
The abbess then urged them to complete their preparations for departure,
helped them to change their dress, and, after embracing them several
times, conducted them to the parlour.
In order to avoid any disturbance when the young ladies left the
convent, where everybody adored them, the abbess had the good idea of
sending the nuns to their cells. It was a very prudent measure, which,
by preventing leave-taking, also prevented any noisy manifestations of
cries and tears, the sound of which might have been heard outside, and
have fallen on hostile ears.
The leave-taking was short, for there was no time to lose in vain
compliments. The young ladies drew down their veils, and proceeded to
the courtyard under the guidance of the abbess. The carriage had been
drawn as close as possible to the cloisters, and the court was entirely
deserted, only the abbess, the sister porter, and a confidential nun
witnessing the departure.
As the Frenchman opened the door of the carriage, a piece of paper lying
on the seat caught his eyes. He seized it without being seen, and hid it
in the hollow of his hand. After kissing the good abbess for the last
time, the young ladies took the back seat, and Don Martial the front, as
did Mr. Rallier, after previously whispering to the coachman, that is,
to Curumilla, two Indian words, to which he replied by a sinister grin.
Then, at a signal from the abbess, the convent gates were opened, and
the carriage started at full speed, drawn by six powerful mules.
The crowd silently made room for it to pass, the gates closed again
immediately, and the carriage almost immediately disappeared round the
corner of the next street.
It was about seven o'clock in the morning. The fugitives--for we can
give them no other name--galloped in silence for the first ten or
fifteen minutes, when the Frenchman gently touched his companion's
shoulder, and offered him the paper he had found in the carriage.
"Read!" he said.
The paper only contained two words, hurriedly written in pencil--
"Take care."
"Oh, oh," the Tigrero exclaimed, turning pale, "what does this mean?"
"By Jove," the Frenchman answered cautiously, "it means that in spite of
our precautions, or perhaps on account of them, for in these confounded
affairs a man never knows how to act in order to deceive the persons he
fears, we are discovered, and probably have spies at our heels."
"Caray! and what will become of the young ladies in the event of a
dispute?"
"In the event of a fight you mean, for there will be an obstinate one,
I foretell. Well, we will defend them as well as we can."
"I know that; but suppose we are killed?"
"Ah! there is that chance; but I never think of that till after the
event."
"Oh heaven!" Doña Anita murmured, as she hid her head in her friend's
bosom.
"Re-assure yourself, señorita," the Frenchman continued, "and, above
all, be silent, for the sound of your voice might be recognized, and
change into certainty what may still be only a suspicion. Besides,
remember that if you have enemies, you have also friends, since they
took the precaution to warn us. Now, in all probability, this unknown
offerer of advice will not have stopped there, but thought of the means
to come to our assistance in the most effectual manner."
The carriage went along in the meanwhile at a breakneck pace, and had
nearly reached the city gates. We will now tell what had happened, and
how the Frenchman was warned of the danger that threatened him.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero had organized a band of spies composed
of leperos and scoundrels, who, however, possessed acknowledged
cleverness and skill, and if Valentine had escaped their surveillance
and foiled their machinations, it was solely through the habits which
he had contracted during a lengthened life in the prairies, and which
had become an intuition with him, so far did he carry the quality of
scenting and unmasking an enemy, whatever might be the countenance he
borrowed. But if he had not been recognized, it was not the same with
his friends, and the latter had not been able long to escape the lynx
eyes of the general's spies.
The Convent of the Bernardines had naturally become for some days past
the centre of the surveillance, as it were the spying headquarters, of
Don Sebastian's agents. The arrival of a carriage with closed blinds
at the convent at once gave the alarm; and though Mr. Rallier was not
personally known, the fact of his being a Frenchman was sufficient to
rouse suspicions.
While the Frenchman and the monk were conversing in the parlour with the
abbess, a lepero pretended to hurt himself, and was conveyed by two of
his acolytes to the convent gate, and the good hearted porter had not
refused him admission, but, on the contrary, had eagerly given him all
the assistance his condition seemed to require.
While the lepero was gradually regaining his senses, his comrades asked
questions with that captious skill peculiar to their Mexican nature.
The sister porter was a worthy woman, endowed with a very small stock
of brains, and fond of talking. On finding this opportunity to indulge
in her favourite employment, she was easily led on, and, almost of her
own accord, told all she knew, not suspecting the harm she did. Let us
hasten to add that this all was very little; but, being understood and
commented on by intelligent men interested in discovering the truth, it
was extremely serious.
When the three leperos had drawn all they could out of the sister
porter, they hastened to leave the convent. Just as they emerged into
the street, they found themselves face to face with Ño Carnero, the
general's capataz, whom his master had sent on a tour of discovery. They
ran up to him, and in a few words told him what had happened.
This was grave, and the capataz trembled inwardly at the revelation, for
he understood the terrible danger by which his friends were menaced. But
Carnero was a clever man, and at once made up his mind to his course of
action.
He greatly praised the leperos for the skill they had displayed in
discovering the secret, put some piastres into their hands, and sent
them off to the general, with the recommendation, which was most
unnecessary, to make all possible speed. Then, in his turn, he began
prowling round the convent, and especially the carriage, which Curumilla
made no difficulty in letting him approach, for the reader will
doubtless have guessed that the animosity the Indian had on several
occasions evinced for the capataz was pretended, and that they were
perfectly good friends when nobody could see or hear them.
The capataz skilfully profited by the confusion created in the crowd by
the carriage entering the convent, to throw in, unperceived, the paper
Mr. Rallier had found. Certain now that his friends would be on their
guard, he went off in his turn, after recommending the spies he left
before the convent to keep up a good watch, and walked in the direction
of the Plaza Mayor smoking a cigarette.
At the corner of the Calle de Plateros he saw a man standing in front of
a pulquería, engaged in smoking an enormous cigar. The capataz entered
the pulquería, drank a glass of Catalonian refino, but while paying, he
clumsily let fall a piastre which rolled to the foot of the man standing
in the doorway. The latter stooped, picked up the coin, and restored it
to its owner, and the capataz walked out, doubtless satisfied with the
quality of the spirit he had imbibed, and cautiously continued his way.
On reaching the plaza again, the man of the pulquería, who was probably
going the same road as himself, was at his heels.
"Belhumeur?" the capataz asked in a low voice, without turning round.
"Eh?" the other answered in the same key.
"The general knows the affair at the convent; if you do not make haste,
Don Martial, Don Antonio, and the two ladies will be attacked on the
road while going to the quinta; warn your friend, for there is not a
moment to lose. Devil take the cigarette!" he added, throwing it away,
"it has gone out."
When he turned back, Belhumeur had disappeared; the Canadian with
his characteristic agility was already running in the direction of
Valentine's house. As for the capataz, as he was in no particular hurry,
he quietly walked back to the general's, where he found his master in a
furious passion with all his people, and more particularly with himself.
By an accident, too portentous not to have been arranged beforehand, not
one of his horses could be mounted; three were foundered, four others
had been bled, and the last three were without shoes. In the midst of
this the capataz arrived with a look of alarm, which only heightened his
master's passion. Carnero prudently allowed the general's fury to grow a
little calm, and then answered him.
He proved to him in the first place that he would commit a serious act
of imprudence by himself starting in pursuit of the fugitives in the
present state of affairs, and especially on the eve of a pronunciamiento
which was about to decide his fortunes. Then he remarked to him that
six peons, commanded by a resolute man, would be sufficient to conquer
two men probably badly armed, and, in addition, shut up in a carriage
with two ladies, whom they would not expose to the risk of being killed.
These reasons being good, the general listened and yielded to them.
"Very good," he said; "Carnero, you are one of my oldest servants, and
to you I entrust the duty of bringing back my niece."
The capataz made a wry face.
"There will be probably plenty of blows to receive, and very little
profit to derive from such an expedition."
"I believed that you were devoted to me," the general remarked bitterly.
"Your excellency is not mistaken; I am truly devoted to you, but I have
also a fondness for my skin."
"I will give you twenty-five ounces for every slit it receives; is that
enough?"
"Come, I see that your excellency wishes me to be cut into mincemeat!"
the capataz exclaimed joyously.
"Then that is agreed?"
"I should think so, excellency; at that price a man would be a fool to
refuse."
"But about horses?"
"We have at least ten or a dozen in the corral."
"That is true; I did not think of that," the general exclaimed, striking
his forehead; "have seven lassoed at once."
"Where must I take the señorita?"
"Bring her to this house, for she shall not set foot in the convent
again."
"Very good; when shall I start, general?"
"At once, if it be possible."
"In twenty minutes I shall have left the house."
But the general's impatience was so great that he accompanied his
capataz to the corral, watched all the preparations for the departure,
and did not return to his apartments till he was certain that Carnero
had started in pursuit of the fugitives, with the peons he had selected.
In the meanwhile the carriage dashed along; it passed at full gallop
through the San Lázaro gate, then turned suddenly to the right, and
entered a somewhat narrow street. At about the middle of this street it
stopped before a house of rather modest appearance, the gate of which
at once opened, and a man came out holding the bridles of two prairie
mustangs completely harnessed, and with a rifle at each saddle-bow. The
Frenchman got out, and invited his companion to follow his example.
"Resume your usual dress," he said, as he led him inside the house.
The Tigrero obeyed with an eager start of joy. While he doffed his gown,
his companion mounted, after saying to the young ladies--
"Whatever happens, not a word--not a cry; keep the shutters up; we will
gallop at the door, and remember your lives are in peril."
Martial at this moment came out of the house attired as a caballero.
"To horse, and let us be off," said Mr. Rallier.
The Tigrero bounded onto the mustang held in readiness for him, and
the carriage, in which the mules had been changed, started again at
full speed. The house at which they had stopped was the one hired by
Valentine to keep his stud at.
Half an hour thus passed, and the carriage disappeared in the thick
cloud of dust it raised as it dashed along. Don Martial felt new born;
the excitement had restored his old ardour as if by enchantment;
he longed to be face to face with his foe, and at length come to a
settlement with him. The Frenchman was calmer; though brave to rashness,
it was with secret anxiety he foresaw the probability of a fight, in
which his sister might be wounded; still he was resolved, in the event
of the worst, to confront the danger, no matter the number of men who
ventured to attack them.
All at once the Indian uttered a cry. The two men looked back, and saw
a body of men coming up at full speed. At this moment the carriage was
following a road bounded on one side by a rather thick chaparral, on the
other by a deep ravine.
At a sign from the Frenchman the carriage was drawn across the road, and
the ladies got out; went, under Curumilla's protection, to seek shelter
behind the trees. The two men, with their rifles to their shoulders
and fingers on the triggers, stood firmly in the middle of the road,
awaiting the onset of their adversaries, for, in all probability, the
newcomers were enemies.