THE MISSION.
Valentine, after suddenly parting from the general as we narrated, did
not appear at all alarmed about pursuit; and if he hurried on at first,
he soon relaxed his speed. On arriving about a hundred yards from the
spot where his interview with Don Sebastian had taken place, he stopped,
raised his eyes to the sky, and seemed to consult his position. Then he
went on; but, instead of proceeding toward the mission, he turned his
back completely on it, and returned to the bank of the river, whence he
had before been retrograding.
Although the hunter was walking at a quick pace, he seemed greatly
preoccupied, and looked mechanically around him. At times he stopped,
not to listen to any strange sound, but through the thoughts which
oppressed him, and robbed him of all sense of external things. Evidently
Valentine was seeking the solution of a problem that troubled him.
At length, after about a quarter of an hour, he saw a faint light a
few paces ahead of him. It glistened through the trees, and seemed to
indicate an encampment. Valentine stopped and whistled softly. At the
same moment the branches of a shrub, about five yards from him, parted,
and a man appeared. It was Curumilla.
"Well," Valentine asked, "has she come?" The Araucano bowed his head in
reply. The hunter made an angry gesture.
"Where is she?" he asked.
The Indian pointed to the fire the hunter had noticed.
"Deuce take the women!" the hunter growled; "they are the least logical
beings in existence. As they let themselves ever be guided by passion,
they overthrow unconsciously the surest combinations."
Then he added in a louder voice,--
"Have you not executed my commission, then?"
This time the Indian spoke.
"She will listen to nothing," he said; "she will see."
"I knew it!" the hunter exclaimed. "They are all alike--silly heads,
only fit for mule bells; and yet she is one of the better sort. Well,
lead me to her. I will try to convince her."
The Indian smiled maliciously, but made no reply. He turned away and led
the hunter to the fire. In a few seconds Valentine found himself on the
skirt of a vast clearing, in the centre of which, by a good fire of dead
wood, Doña Angela and her camarista, Violanta, were seated on piles of
furze. Ten paces behind the females, several peons, armed to the teeth,
leant on their long lances, awaiting the pleasure of their mistress.
Doña Angela raised her head at the sound caused by the hunter's
approach, and uttered a slight cry of joy.
"There you are at last!" she exclaimed. "I almost despaired of your
coming."
"Perhaps it would have been better had I not done so," he answered with
a stifled sigh.
The young lady overheard, or pretended not to hear, the hunter's reply.
"Is your encampment far from here?" she continued.
"Before proceeding there," the hunter said, "we must have a little
conversation together, señora."
"What have you to say to me that is so interesting, or rather, so
urgent?"
"You shall judge for yourself."
The young lady made a gesture signifying her readiness to hear something
which she knew beforehand would be disagreeable.
"Speak!" she said.
The hunter did not allow the invitation to be repeated.
"Where did Curumilla meet you?"
"At the hacienda, just as I was mounting to start. I only awaited him to
begin my journey."
"He tried to dissuade you from this step?"
"He did; but I insisted on coming, and compelled him to guide me here."
"You were wrong, niña."
"For what reason?"
"For a thousand."
"That is no answer. Mention one."
"Your father, in the first place."
"He has not yet arrived at the hacienda. I shall have got back before he
comes. I have nothing to fear on that side."
"You are mistaken. Your father has arrived: I have seen him--spoken with
him."
"You! Where? When?"
"Here, scarce half an hour ago."
"That is impossible," she said.
"It is the fact. I will add that he wanted to kill me."
"He!"
"Yes."
The young lady remained thoughtful for a moment; then she raised her
head, and shook it several times.
"All the worse," she said resolutely. "Whatever happens, I will carry it
out to the end."
"What do you hope from this interview, niña? Do you not know that your
father is our most inveterate foe?"
"What you say is too late now. You ought to have urged these objections
when I sent my request to you."
"That is true; but at that time I still had hopes, which I can no longer
entertain. Believe me, niña, do not insist on seeing Don Louis. Return
as speedily as possible to the hacienda. What will your father think if
he does not see you on his arrival?"
"I repeat to you that I will have a most important conversation with Don
Louis. It must be, for his sake and for mine."
"Think of the consequences of such a step."
"I think of nothing. I warn you that, if you still refuse to perform
your promise to me, I will go alone to find the conde."
The hunter regarded her for an instant with a singular expression.
He shook his head sorrowfully, and took her hand, which he pressed
affectionately.
"Your will be done," he replied gently. "No one can alter his destiny.
Come, then, as you insist on it. God grant that your obstinacy does not
entail frightful disaster!"
"You are a bird of ill omen," she said with a laugh. "Come, let us
start. You will see all end better than you anticipate."
"I consent; but trust yourself to me, and leave your escort here."
"I ask nothing better. I will only take Violanta with me."
"As you please."
At a sign from her mistress the camarista went up to the peons, who
were still motionless, and gave them orders not to leave the clearing
under any pretext before her return. Then, guided by Valentine, the two
females proceeded toward the camp of the filibusters, Curumilla forming
the rear guard. On arriving about a hundred yards from it Valentine
stopped.
"What is the matter?" Doña Angela asked him.
"I hesitate about troubling my friend's repose. Perhaps he will be angry
with me for having brought you to him."
"No," she said, "you are deceiving me: that is not your thought at this
moment."
He regarded her with amazement.
"Good heavens!" she continued with animation, "do you fancy I do not
know what is troubling you now? It is to see a girl of my age, rich
and well born, take what your countrymen would call an improper step,
and which, were it known, would inevitably destroy her reputation. But
we Americans are not like your cold and staid European women, who do
everything by weight and measure. We love as we hate. It is not blood,
but the lava of our volcanoes that circulates in our veins. My love is
my life! I care naught for anything else. Remain here a few moments,
and let me go on alone. Don Louis, I am convinced, will understand
and appreciate my conduct at its just value. He is no common man, I
tell you. I love him. In a love so true and ardent as mine there is a
certain magnetic attraction which will prevent it being spurned."
The young Mexican was splendidly lovely as she uttered these words. With
her head thrown haughtily back, her flashing eye and quivering lip, she
was at once a virgin and a Bacchante. Subdued, in spite of himself, by
the maiden's accent, and dazzled by her glorious beauty, the hunter
bowed respectfully before her, and said, with considerable emotion in
his voice,--
"Go, then; and may Heaven grant that, by your aid, my brother may be
again led to take an interest in life!"
She smiled with an undefinable expression of archness and serenity, and
flew, lightly as a bird, into the thicket. Valentine and Curumilla, who
were near enough to the camp to see what occurred, though the sound of
voices could not reach them, resolved to wait where they were till their
presence became absolutely necessary.
The encampment was in the same state as when the hunter quitted it to
go and meet the general. Don Louis and Don Cornelio were fast asleep.
Doña Angela remained for a moment silent, fixing on Don Louis a glance
in which an unbending resolution flashed. Then she stooped down gently
over him. But at the moment when she was about to lay her hand on his
shoulder to arouse him, a sudden sound caused her to tremble. She sprang
back, threw a startled glance around, and disappeared once again in the
thicket.
Hardly had she retired ere the sound which smote on her ears, and
interrupted the execution of her project, became louder; and it was soon
easy to distinguish the cadenced sound of a large body of men on the
march, and the harsh creaking of cartwheels.
"Your companions are arriving," Doña Angela said hurriedly to Valentine
as she rejoined him; "they are only a short distance from the mission.
Can I still count on you?"
"Always," he answered.
"I have changed my mind: I will not explain my views to the count in
this way, but in the presence of all of you, by the light of the sun.
You shall soon see me again in your midst. Good-by! I am going back to
the hacienda. Prepare the count for my visit."
After making a parting sign to the hunter, and smiling on him, the young
girl remounted her horse, and set off at a gallop, followed by her
escort.
"Yes, I will prepare Louis to receive her," the hunter muttered, as
he followed her with his eyes for a moment. "That child has a noble
heart: she really loves my foster brother. Who knows what will be the
consequences of this love?"
And, after shaking his head two or three times dubiously he re-entered
the encampment, accompanied by Curumilla, whose Indian stoicism was
unshaken, and who seemed perfectly a stranger to all that was taking
place around him.
Valentine awoke Louis. The latter sprang up at once.
"Have you any news?" he asked.
"Yes, the company is coming up."
"Already! Oh, oh! it has pushed on. That is a good omen."
"Shall we stay here long?"
"No, two days at the most, or long enough to rest the men and cattle."
"Perhaps it would be better to push on at once--"
"I should like it as much as yourself, but it is impossible, as the
40,000 rations we ought to have found here have not yet arrived, and we
are forced to await them."
"That is true."
"I am the more annoyed at this oversight, because our provisions
are rapidly diminishing. Still, do not let our comrades see our
disappointment, but let us put on a good face. They know we went ahead
of them to make the commissariat arrangements, so let them fancy we have
succeeded."
Valentine bowed in affirmation. The night was almost at an end; already
the sky on the horizon was beginning to be shaded with large white
strips of cloud; the stars had all disappeared one after the other; and
the sun was just about to rise. Curumilla threw a handful of dried wood
on the fire in order to make a flame, and neutralise the effect of the
icy night air.
"_Caramba!_" Don Cornelio exclaimed, as he woke up suddenly; "I am
frozen; the nights are so cold."
"Are they not?" Valentine said to him. "Well, if you want to warm
yourself, nothing is easier. Come along with me."
"I am quite willing. Where are you going?"
"Listen."
"I am doing so. Stay!" he said at the expiration of an instant. "Can
that be the company?"
"It is. But it is unnecessary for us to put ourselves out of the way,
for here they come."
In fact, at this moment, the French advanced guard entered the mission.
According to the treaty made with the Atrevida Company, 40,000 rations
should have been prepared at the mission for the troop. The count
gave the command to Colonel Florés, with orders to push on, and,
accompanied by Valentine, Curumilla, and Don Cornelio, had gone on
ahead. Unfortunately the company had not carried out its engagements
with that loyalty the count had a right to expect. Instead of 40,000
rations he had found scarce half, ranged with a certain degree of
symmetry in a ruined cabin. This breach of faith was the more injurious
to the interests of the expedition, because the count, owing to this
perfidious manoeuvre, found himself almost unable to push on, as he was
about definitively to leave the inhabited and cultivated plains to bury
himself in the desert.
Indeed, since the company had left Guaymas, the ill-will of the Mexicans
had been so evident under all circumstances, that Don Louis had required
a superhuman energy and will of iron not to give way to discouragement,
and withdraw in the face of these obstacles raised in his path with
unparalleled animosity. Still, up to the present, the Mexicans had never
dared to break their engagements so boldly as now: hence they must
feel themselves very strong, or at least their precautions were so well
taken, and they felt so sure of success, that they raised the mask.
Besides, the count had found no one at the mission to hand him over
the stores in the name of the company; and the persons who treated him
so unworthily had not deigned to weaken by an excuse the treachery of
which they were guilty at this moment. Don Louis foresaw, then, that
after such behaviour, the _dénouement_ of the odious farce played by the
Mexicans was at hand, and he prepared to face the storm bravely.
The mission was held in military fashion by the company; for they were
on the edge of the desert, and it was wise to begin a careful watch.
Cannon were planted at each angle of headquarters--sentinels placed at
regular distances; in short, this mission, sad and abandoned on the
previous day, seemed to have sprung magically into life again; the
rubbish was removed, and the old Jesuit church, more than half in ruins,
suddenly assumed the appearance of a fortress.
When the count had given the necessary orders for the instalment of the
company, and was assured of their perfect execution, he inquired of
Colonel Florés how he had performed his duties as temporary chief. The
colonel, alone among the French, and feeling himself consequently in
the wolfs throat, was too crafty not to act ostensibly with the utmost
loyalty; hence on every occasion he offered proofs of goodwill, and
acted with a degree of circumspection by which Valentine, that eternal
doubter, was nearly duped, although he knew perfectly well the nature of
the Mexican character.
Then the count withdrew with the hunter, and the two foster brothers
held a conversation, which, to judge by its length, and, above all, Don
Louis' thoughtful air when it was ended, must have been very important.
In fact, Valentine, accomplishing his pledge to Doña Angela, informed
the count of the events of the past night, not only telling him all that
had passed between him and the young lady, but also the details of his
interview with the general on the river bank.
"You see, then," he said in conclusion, "that the situation is growing
more and more critical, and they mean war."
"Yes, it is war; but so long as the least hope is left me, be assured,
brother, that I shall not give them the satisfaction of supplying a
pretext for a rupture."
"You must play more cautiously than ever, brother. However, unless I am
greatly mistaken, we shall speedily know what we have to expect."
"That is my opinion too."
At this moment Don Cornelio appeared, accompanied by Curumilla.
"I beg your pardon," he said to the hunter; "but I should feel obliged
by your putting matters right with the chief, who persists in telling me
that we are at this moment closely watched by an Indian war party."
"What!" Valentine said, frowning. "What is that you say, Don Cornelio?"
"Look here. While walking in the neighbourhood of the mission with the
chief, I picked up this----"
"Let me see," Valentine said.
Don Cornelio handed him a moccasin, which the hunter examined
attentively for several minutes.
"Hum!" he then said, "this is serious. Where did you find it?"
"On the river bank."
"What do you think of it, chief?" Valentine said, turning to the
Araucano.
"The moccasin is new--it has been lost. Curumilla has seen numerous
trails."
"Listen," Don Louis said quickly. "Tell no one about this discovery:
we must distrust everything, for treachery is hovering around us,
and threatens us from all sides at once. While I strengthen our
intrenchments under pretext of a longer stay here, you, brother, will go
out to reconnoitre with the chief, and assure yourself of what we have
really to fear from the Indians."
"Be quiet, brother: on your side, keep a good watch."