GUAYMAS.
The Mexicans are only children, though terrible children we allow, on
whom it is impossible to calculate, no matter in what way. Their
deplorable conduct, under all circumstances, since they succeeded in
constituting themselves an independent nation, proves that, unless an
entire change takes place in their character, no more is to be hoped
from them in the future than they have effected in the past.
Curious, fickle, cowardly, rash, distrustful, cruel, and
superstitious--such is the Mexican.
Let it not be supposed that we speak thus through a hatred of a people,
among whom we lived so long; on the contrary, we love the Mexicans, we
pity them, we should like to see them regard seriously their position,
as a free nation, and behave as men; but we repeat it, they are
terrible, stormy, and obstinate children, from whom no good can be
derived, we are honestly afraid.
One of the manias of this people is to attract, by the most handsome
promises, fallacious offers, and most friendly demonstrations, those
strangers whom they fancy may prove useful in any way. They receive
these foreigners with open arms, weep with joy while embracing them,
offer them the most tenderly fraternal caresses, and give them more than
they ever ventured to ask. Then one fine day, without any reason,
motive, or slightest pretext, they change from white to black, begin
hating with their whole soul the foreigners they have so greatly petted,
insult and betray them, lay snares for them, and eventually ill treat or
assassinate them, and that, too, while offering them a hand, and smiling
on them.
If we wished to recriminate, how many names could we quote, how many
shades would it be easy for us to evoke in support of our statements,
without counting the noble and unfortunate De Raousset Boulbon, and the
impetuous and generous Lapuillade, victims offered in a cowardly way to
that hideous Mexican prejudice--a prejudice which is the basis of the
policy of this unlucky people, and which will ruin it--not through a
hatred of the foreigner, for that is a noble and national feeling, but
through a hatred of Europeans, whom they despair of ever equalling, and
to whom, in their ignorance and carelessness, they feel a mortal
jealousy and envy.
It is evident that during the ten years' struggle Mexico had to sustain
against Spain, the former country produced grand and noble characters;
but it seems that, exhausted by that gigantic effort, it was incapable
of casting others like them into the crucible, for since the first hour
of its liberty to the present day, it has not produced a single man
worthy of walking, even at a distance, in the footsteps of the
illustrious founders of its independence.
This is very sad to say; and yet, if we passed it over in silence, we
might be reproached for not stating the truth, and for recoiling from
the task we imposed on ourselves in writing this story, in which we have
merely changed the names through a feeling that will be appreciated.
The arrival of the French company, however, was anxiously expected at
Guaymas. The most absurd and contradictory reports were spread about it,
its chief, and the object of the expedition; and as is generally the
rule, the most absurd rumours obtained the greatest and firmest
credence. Even before the arrival of the French, malevolence was
watching in the shade, and seeking darkly to arouse the ill will of the
population against the new arrivals.
What Colonel Florés stated in his conversation with Don Antonio Pavo was
perfectly correct. Hardly had the organisation of the Atravida company
been completed in San Francisco, ere two American houses, perfectly
comprehending the advantages of this enterprise in which they were not
allowed to join, for reasons we will be silent about for their credit,
treacherously established a rival company, intended to impede the
operations of the elder company by all means, even the most dishonest.
Hatred never slumbers. The affair went on rapidly, so rapidly that the
second company had all its batteries prepared for effective action
before the French had quitted San Francisco. This operation was managed
with such Machiavellism, and the secret was so well kept, that the
count, in spite of his extensive relations, suspected nothing, and
embarked for Sonora with his heart full of hope and illusions.
Valentine was awaiting his friend with the most lively impatience. The
hunter had conscientiously fulfilled the commissions the count gave him;
and all had, apparently, succeeded famously. A comfortable barrack was
prepared for the company: the French agent had been most honeyed, and
placed himself at the hunter's disposal to do all he might desire with
the most charming affability. Still the latter was not satisfied. With
no plausible reason, with nothing arising to contradict these offers of
friendship, Valentine, by one of those forebodings which Heaven sends to
those it loves and wishes to protect, felt that all this amenity
concealed a snare; the lips smiled, it is true, but the eyebrows
frowned, and the brow was wrinkled.
General Guerrero, while testifying his delight at the arrival of the
company, and placing himself at the orders of the hunter, had continued
under various pretexts to reside at Hermosillo, instead of coming to
Guaymas to welcome the company, as he should have done; in the first
place as governor of the province, secondly, as member of the company;
two reasons more than sufficient to suggest his change of abode.
Valentine, hence, was very restless; and the more so because, while
feeling that a storm was collecting, he could not foresee whence it
would come. Hence, he remained a greater part of the day by the
seashore, watching anxiously every sail that appeared, hoping to see his
friend arrive at any moment; for he supposed, with some show of reason,
that the presence of the count and his brave comrades would suffice to
silence those who sought to injure him: for the majority of the people
was not only far from being hostile to the expedition, but seemed well
disposed toward it.
Things were in this state one morning, when, according to his custom,
Valentine was preparing to proceed to his observatory, as he called the
rock on which he passed whole days. All at once, Don Antonio and Colonel
Florés rushed into the cuarto where he resided, crying, gesticulating,
and repeating, both at once:--
"Here they are, here they are! They are coming!"
"Who?" Valentine asked them, hardly able yet to put faith in such
blessed news.
"El conde! El conde!"
"He will be here in an hour at the latest," said Don Antonio.
"Perhaps before," the colonel backed him up. "We are going to meet him."
"And I, too," Valentine exclaimed.
They went out. The news had spread with the rapidity of a powder train.
Guaymas took a holiday. Immediately, before any orders were given by the
authorities, the houses were hung with flags; for, as it happened,
Corpus Christi would be celebrated a few days later, and the banners had
been got in readiness.
The inhabitants, dressed in their best clothes, the Hiaqui Indians, of
whom a great number let themselves out to private persons as workmen and
servants--in a word, everybody, hurried and ran toward the beach,
shouting, laughing, singing, and uttering interminable hurrahs. It was
really a curious sight,--this crowd, hastening joyously to meet a few
Frenchmen, whose good intentions toward them they instinctively guessed.
The authorities of the town followed the popular movement; but it was
easy to read that they did not act from their own will, but were carried
onward by the current of public opinion.
When Valentine and the two men who had constituted themselves his
companions reached the beach, it was already invaded by the whole
population. A few cable's lengths from shore the ship that brought the
French might be distinctly seen. It advanced majestically, impelled by a
strong breeze. It had its top-gallant sails set, and its lower sails
clewed up, which allowed a large crowd to be seen on the poop. When the
vessel had passed a little beyond Venado Island--the usual anchorage of
large ships--it tacked, and sent down top-sails; then the anchor was let
go, and the main jib lowered.
Valentine leaped hurriedly into a canoe, and, before Don Antonio and the
colonel could follow him, pushed off. Not noticing the signs his
companions made him, the hunter proceeded rapidly in the direction of
the ship, vigorously aided by the man already in the canoe, and who was
no other than Curumilla. In a few minutes they reached the vessel. Louis
perceived them from a distance, so that when they came alongside he
received them, and helped them aboard. Even before embracing his foster
brother, or pressing his hand, Valentine turned and looked searchingly
along the beach.
"Good!" he said, "they have not found a boat yet. Come, brother, let us
go down into your cabin, I must speak with you without delay."
"Let me, at least, say 'how do you do' to you," Louis remarked, with a
smile.
"Come: we have not a moment to lose."
The count looked at the hunter, and saw that his face was grave. He
understood at once that he had important news to communicate. He no
longer resisted. He gave his orders hurriedly to one of his officers, to
prepare everything for the debarkation, and followed his foster brother
who was anxiously awaiting him. Louis led him into the modest berth
which he had engaged during the passage, and prepared to shut the door.
"No," Valentine said, preventing him, "leave it open, on the contrary;
in that way we shall see the persons who come."
"As you please. Speak."
"I have only two words to say to you; but they are two I would advise
you to profit by."
"You may be sure of that."
"You have powerful enemies here. Who they are I know not; but they
detest you."
"What do you say?"
"A thing of which I am certain."
"But, my dear fellow, whoever those enemies may be, I have nothing to
fear from them. My papers are all regular, my grant is clearly and
carefully registered. I have not only the authorisation, but also the
support of the government. I only act by formal orders, and, therefore,
fear nothing."
"Brother," Valentine answered sententiously, "when you have to deal with
Mexicans, you must always apprehend treachery. I have known them many a
long year, and unfortunately know also what dependence is to be placed
in them."
"You startle me."
"No, I warn you, that is all. It is your duty to be constantly on your
guard."
"Do you know that, before Heaven, I am responsible for the lives of all
these brave fellows intrusted to me?"
"That is why I advise you to be prudent, and not to trust in any one.
There are two men above all whom I recommend you to distrust."
"Their names?"
"Don Antonio Pavo, and Colonel Don Francisco Florés."
Louis could hardly refrain from a start of surprise, as he looked his
brother in the face.
"It is not possible," he exclaimed; "you must be mistaken."
"Why so?"
"Because these two men, one of whom is agent to the French government
here, and the other the delegate of the Atravida, are both shareholders
in the company. I am specially recommended to them, and have letters
for both."
"As you please; but I assure you these men are betraying you."
"Have you any proof?"
"None."
"How do you know it, then?"
"I do not know it, and yet I am sure of it. Believe me, brother; for you
are aware that I am rarely mistaken."
Louis shook his head sadly.
"All this is strange," he said.
At this moment a man leaned over the companion, and uttered the one
word, "Spies!" in a low voice, yet sufficiently loud to be heard by the
two men.
"Halloh!" Louis exclaimed with a start.
"It is nothing," Valentine observed; "only Curumilla warning us that our
two men are coming. Let us return to the deck, for they must not fancy
we have any doubts of them. Examine the two men carefully, when you find
yourself in their presence; and I am certain you will come over to my
opinion afterwards."
Louis made no reply. They went on deck, and Valentine left him.
"I am returning to land," he said; "you will see me again on the beach."
The hunter leaped into the canoe, which Curumilla had allowed to fall
behind the vessel, so that it might not be noticed; and he pushed off
for land at the very moment the colonel and Don Antonio set foot on
deck.
No people is possessed, to so eminent a degree as the Mexican, of the
most refined politeness and most graceful gallantry. By their feline and
gentle manners they can seduce and charm persons they have an interest
in cheating, whenever they please. Unfortunately, in spite of all the
efforts they made, and the cajolery they employed to convince Don Louis
of their sincerity and profound attachment to him, Don Antonio and the
colonel had physiognomies which so clearly revealed the disgraceful
passions that moved them, that all their labour was thrown away.
As Valentine had warned him, on the approach of these two men the count
had involuntarily experienced a feeling of repulsion, so strong, that he
was compelled to make an effort over himself, to prevent them seeing the
effect they produced upon him. The count, however, thought it advisable
to pretend to be their dupe, in order to profit by the faults their
fancied security might induce them to commit, and derive from them all
the information he might need at a future date.
He therefore responded to their advances and offers of service with such
frankness and cordiality, that he succeeded in completely duping the
crafty scoundrels who fancied him their dupe.
The count had scarce arrived in Sonora, he had not yet set foot on land,
ere he had to commence his diplomatic apprenticeship, and contend in
craft and falsehood with people, from whom he should have expected the
frankest friendship and most absolute devotion--a rude task for a
character so loyal and thoroughly honest as that of the count; but the
success of the expedition depended on his finesse, and the skill with
which he eluded the snares which would be incessantly spread beneath his
feet. He understood this, and made up his mind to his course of action,
though it was against the grain.
After conversing for some time with the two men, the count, seeing that
all was in readiness for the landing, gave orders for it. Immediately
the adventurers took their stations with admirable order in the boats
brought from the port to receive them. The small flotilla advanced
steadily toward the beach, amid the shouts of the crowd assembled on the
shore, and the clangor of all the town bells, rung as a symbol of
rejoicing.