"By the Virgin, it _is_ he!" exclaimed Roblado, with a look of
astonishment and alarm. "The fellow himself, as I live!"
"I knew it!--I knew it!" shrieked Vizcarra. "I saw him on the cliff: it
was no vision!"
"Where can he have come from? In the name of all the saints, where has
the fellow--"
"Roblado, I must go below! I must go in, I will not stay to meet him!
I _cannot_!"
"Nay, colonel, better let him speak with us. He has seen and recognised
you already. If you appear to shun him, it will arouse suspicion. He
has come to ask our help to pursue the Indians; and that's his errand, I
warrant you!"
"Do you think so?" inquired Vizcarra, partially recovering his
self-possession at this conjecture.
"No doubt of it! What else? He can have no suspicion of the truth.
How is it possible he could, unless he were a witch, like his mother?
Stay where you are, and let us hear what he has got to say. Of course,
you can talk to him from the azotea, while he remains below. If he show
any signs of being insolent, as he has already been to both of us, let
us have him arrested, and cooled a few hours in the calabozo. I hope
the fellow will give us an excuse for it, for I haven't forgotten his
impudence at the fiesta."
"You are right, Roblado; I shall stay and heur him. It will be better,
I think, and will allay any suspicion. But, as you say, he can have
none!"
"On the contrary, by your giving him the aid he is about to ask you for,
you may put him entirely off the scent--make him your friend, in fact.
Ha! ha!"
The idea was plausible, and pleased Vizcarra. He at once determined to
act upon it.
This conversation had been hurriedly carried on, and lasted but a few
moments--from the time the approaching horseman had been first seen,
until he drew up under the wall.
For the last two hundred yards he had ridden slowly, and with an air of
apparent respect--as though he feared it might be deemed rude to
approach the place of power by any swaggering exhibition of
horsemanship. On his fine features traces of grief might be observed,
but not one sign of the feeling that was at that moment uppermost in his
heart.
As he drew near, he raised his sombrero in a respectful salute to the
two officers, whose heads and shoulders were just visible over the
parapet; and having arrived within a dozen paces of the wall, he reined
up, and, taking off his hat again, waited to be addressed.
"What is your business?" demanded Roblado.
"Cavalleros! I wish to speak with the Comandante."
This was delivered in the tone of one who is soon to ask a favour. It
gave confidence to Vizcarra, as well as to the bolder villain--who,
notwithstanding all his assurances to the contrary, had still some
secret misgivings about the cibolero's errand. Now, however, it was
clear that his first conjecture was correct; Carlos had come to solicit
their assistance.
"I am he!" answered Vizcarra, now quite recovered from his fright, "I am
the Comandante. What have you to communicate, my man?"
"Your excellency, I have a favour to ask;" and the cibolero again
saluted with an humble bow.
"I told you so," whispered Roblado to his superior. "All safe, my
colonel."
"Well, my good fellow," replied Vizcarra, in his usual haughty and
patronising manner, "let me hear it. If not unreasonable--"
"Your excellency, it is a very heavy favour I would ask, but I hope not
unreasonable. I am sure that, if it do not interfere with your manifold
duties, you will not refuse to grant it, as the interest and trouble you
have already taken in the cause are but too well-known."
"Told you so," muttered Roblado a second time.
"Speak out, man!" said Vizcarra, encouragingly; "I can only give an
answer when I have heard your request."
"It is this, your excellency. I am but a poor cibolero."
"You are Carlos the cibolero! I know you."
"Yes, your excellency, we have met--at the fiesta of San Juan--"
"Yes, yes! I recollect your splendid horsemanship."
"Your excellency is kind to call it so. It does not avail me now. I am
in great trouble!"
"What has befallen? Speak out, man." Both Vizcarra and Roblado guessed
the purport of the cibolero's request. They desired that it should be
heard by the few soldiers lounging about the gate and for that reason
they spoke in a loud tone themselves, anxious that their petitioner
might do the same.
Not to oblige them, but for reasons of his own, Carlos replied in a loud
voice. He, too, wished the soldiers, but more particularly the sentry
at the gate, to hear what passed between himself and the officers.
"Well, your excellency," replied he, "I live in a poor rancho, the last
in the settlement, with my old mother and sister. The night before last
it was attacked by a party of Indians--my mother left for dead--the
rancho set on fire--and my sister carried off!"
"I have heard of all this, my friend,--nay, more, I have myself been out
in pursuit of the savages."
"I know it, your excellency. I was absent on the Plains, and only
returned last night. I have heard that your excellency was prompt in
pursuing the savages, and I feel grateful."
"No need of that; I only performed my duty. I regret the occurrence,
and sympathise with you; but the villains have got clear off, and there
is no hope of bringing them to punishment just now. Perhaps some other
time--when the garrison here is strengthened--I shall make an incursion
into their country, and then your sister may be recovered."
So completely had Vizcarra been deceived by the cibolero's manner, that
his confidence and coolness had returned, and any one knowing nothing
more of the affair than could be gathered from that conversation would
have certainly been deceived by him. This dissimulation both in speech
and manner appeared perfect. By the keen eye of Carlos, however--with
his knowledge of the true situation--the tremor of the speaker's lips,
slight as it was--his uneasy glance--and an occasional hesitancy in his
speech, were all observed. Though Carlos was deceiving _him_, _he_ was
not deceiving Carlos.
"What favour were you going to ask?" he inquired, after he had delivered
his hopeful promise.
"This, your excellency; that you would allow your troops to go once more
on the trail of the robbers, either under your own command--which I
would much like--or one of your brave officers." Roblado felt
flattered. "I would act as guide, your excellency. There is not a spot
within two hundred miles I am not acquainted with, as well as I am with
this valley; and though I should not say it, I assure your excellency, I
can follow an Indian trail with any hunter on the Plains. If your
excellency will but send the troop, I promise you I shall guide them to
the robbers, or lose my reputation. I can follow their trail _wherever
it may lead_."
"Oh! you could, indeed?" said Vizcarra, exchanging a significant glance
with Roblado, while both exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness.
"Yes, your excellency, anywhere."
"It would be impossible," said Roblado. "It is now two days old;
besides, _we_ followed it beyond the Pecos, and we have no doubt the
robbers are by this time far out of reach, of any pursuit. It would be
quite useless to attempt such a thing."
"Cavalleros!"--Carlos addressed himself to both--"I assure you I could
find them. They are not so far off."
Both the Comandante and his captain started, and visibly turned pale.
The cibolero did not affect to notice this.
"Nonsense! my good fellow!" stammered Roblado; "they are--at least--
hundreds of miles off by this--away over the Staked Plain--or to--to the
mountains."
"Pardon me, captain, for differing with you; but I believe I know these
Indians--I know to what tribe they belong."
"What tribe?" simultaneously inquired the officers, both with an
earnestness of manner and a slight trepidation in their voices; "what
tribe?--Were they not Yutas?"
"No," answered the cibolero, while he observed the continued confusion
of his questioners.
"Who, then?"
"I believe," replied Carlos, "they were _not_ Yutas--more likely my
sworn foes, the Jicarillas."
"Quite possible!" assented both in a breath, and evidently relieved at
the enunciation.
"Quite possible!" repeated Roblado. "From the description given us by
the people who saw them, we had fancied they were the Yutas. It may be
a mistake, however. The people were so affrighted, they could tell but
little about them. Besides, the Indians were only seen in the night."
"Why think you they are the Jicarillas?" asked the Comandante, once more
breathing freely.
"Partly because there were so few of them," replied Carlos. "Had they
been Yutas--"
"But they were not so few. The shepherds report a large band. They
have carried off immense numbers of cattle. There must have been a
considerable force of them, else they would not have ventured into the
valley--that is certain."
"I am convinced, your excellency, there could not have been many. A
small troop of your brave soldiers would be enough to bring back both
them and their booty."
Here the lounging lanzeros erected their dwarfish bodies, and
endeavoured to look taller.
"_If_ they were Jicarillas," continued Carlos, "I should not need to
follow their trail. They are _not_ in the direction of the Llano. If
they have gone that way, it was to mislead you in the pursuit. I know
where they are at this moment--in the mountains."
"Ha! you think they are in the mountains?"
"I am sure of it; and not fifty miles from here. If your excellency
would but send a troop, I could guide it direct to the spot, and without
following the trail they have taken out of the valley--which I believe
was only a false one."
The Comandante and Roblado drew back from the parapet, and for some
minutes talked together in a low tone.
"It would look well," muttered Roblado; "in fact, the very thing you
want. The trump cards seem to drop right into your hands. You send a
force at the _request_ of this fellow, who is a nobody here. You do him
a service, and yourself at the same time. It will tell well, I warrant
you."
"But for him to act as guide?"
"Let him! So much the better--that will satisfy all parties. He won't
find his Jicarillas,--ha! ha ha!--of course; but let the fool have his
whim!"
"But suppose, camarado, he falls upon _our_ trail?--the cattle?"
"He is not going in that direction; besides, if he did, we are not bound
to follow such trails as he may choose for us; but he has said he is not
going that way--he don't intend to follow a trail. He knows some nest
of these Jicarillas in the mountains,--like enough; and to rout them--
there's a bit of glory for some one. A few scalps would look well over
the gate. It hasn't had a fresh ornament of that sort since we've been
here! What say you? It's but a fifty-mile ride."
"I have no objection to the thing--it _would_ look well; but I shall not
go myself. I don't like being along with the fellow out there or
anywhere else--you can understand that feeling, I suppose?"
Here the Comandante looked significantly at his companion.
"Oh! certainly--certainly," replied the latter.
"_You_ may take the troop; or, if you are not inclined, send Garcia or
the sergeant with them."
"I'll go myself," replied Roblado. "It will be safer. Should the
cibolero incline to follow certain trails, I can lead him away from
them, or refuse--yes it will be better for me to go myself. By my soul!
I want to have a brush with these redskins. I hope to bring back some
`hair,' as they say. Ha ha! ha!"
"When would you start?"
"Instantly--the sooner the better. That will be more agreeable to all
parties, and will prove our promptitude and patriotism. Ha! ha! ha!"
"You had better give the sergeant his orders to get the men ready, while
I make our cibolero happy."
Roblado hastened down from the azotea, and the next moment the bugle was
heard sounding "boots and saddles."