CHAPTER V.
THE HACIENDA QUEMADA.
It was a strange group formed by this charming creature and this roughwood ranger, at the top of this devastated hill, troubled by thethunder, and illumined by the coruscating lightning.
White Gazelle had fallen back again, pale and inanimate. Bloodson gazedout into the night, and reassured by the silence, bent a second timeover the girl. Pallid as an exquisite lily laid prostrate by thetempest, the poor child seemed scarce to breathe. Bloodson raised her inhis nervous arms, and bore her to a piece of broken wall, at the foot ofwhich he laid his zarape, and placed her on this softer couch. Thegirl's head hung senseless on his shoulder. Then he gazed at her for along time: grief and pity were painted on Bloodson's face.
He, whose life had hitherto been but one long tragedy, who had no beliefin his heart, who was ignorant of softer feelings and sweet sympathies;he, the avenger and slayer of the Indians, was affected, and feltsomething new stirring within him. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed anxiously, "Can she be dead? Yes," he added,"I was cowardly and cruel toward this poor creature, and God punishesme."
The name, which he only used to blaspheme, he now pronounced almost withrespect; it was a species of prayer, a cry from his heart. Thisindomitable man was at length conquered, he believed.
"How to help her?" he asked himself.
The rain that continued to fall in torrents, and inundated the girl, atlength recalled her to life; she partly opened her eyes, and mutteredsoftly:
"Where am I? What has happened? Oh, I fancied I was dying."
"She speaks, she lives, she is saved," Bloodson exclaimed.
"Who is that?" she asked, as she raised herself with difficulty.
At the sight of the hunter's bronzed face, she was frightened, closedher eyes again, and fell back. She was beginning to remember.
"Take courage, my child," Bloodson said softening his rough voice, "I amyour friend."
"You my friend!" she exclaimed, "what means that word on your lips?"
"Oh, pardon me, I was mad, I knew not what I did."
"Pardon you, why? Am I not born to sorrow?"
"What must she have endured?" Bloodson muttered.
"Oh, yes," she continued, speaking as in a dream. "I have sufferedgreatly. My life, though I am still very young, has, up to the present,been one long suffering; still, I can remember having been happyonce--long, long ago. But the worst pain in this world is theremembrance of happiness in misfortune."
A sigh escaped from her overladen chest, she let her head fall in herhands, and wept. Bloodson listened to and gazed on her; this voice,these features, all he saw and heard augmented the suspicions in hisheart, and gradually converted them into certainty.
"Oh, speak--speak again!" he continued, tenderly; "What do you rememberof your youthful years?"
The girl looked at him, and a bitter smile curled her lips.
"Why, in misery, think of past joys?" she said, shaking her headmournfully; "Why should I tell you of these things--you, above all, whoare my direst enemy? Do you wish to inflict fresh tortures on me?"
"Oh!" he said, with horror, "Can you have such thoughts? Alas! I havebeen very guilty toward you, I allow it, but pardon me--pardon me, Iconjure you! I would lay down my life to spare you any pain."
White Gazelle regarded with amazement, mingled with terror, this roughman, almost prostrate before her, and whose face was bathed in tears.She did not understand his remarks after the way in which he hadhitherto acted towards her.
"Alas!" she murmured, "My life is that of all unfortunate beings: therewas a time when, like other children, I had the songs of birds to lullme to sleep, and flowers that smiled on me when I awoke; I had, too, asister who shared in my sports, and a mother, who loved and embraced me.All that has fled forever."
Bloodson put up two poles, on which he suspended skins to shelter thegirl from the storm, which was gradually clearing off. She watched himas he did so.
"I do not know," she said, sadly, "why I feel a necessity to tell youall this, when you have done me so much harm; whence comes the feelingwhich the sight of you produces in me? I ought to hate you."
She did not complete the sentence, but hid her face in her hands,sobbing violently.
"It is Heaven which permits it to be so, poor child," Bloodson replied,as he raised his eyes upward, and fervently made the sign of the cross.
"Perhaps so," she said, softly; "well, listen; whatever may happen, Iwish to relieve my heart. One day I was playing on my mother's knees,my father was near us with my sister; all at once a terrible yell washeard at the gate of our hacienda; the Apache Indians were attacking us.My father was a resolute man, he seized his weapons, and rushed to thewalls. What happened then? I cannot tell you. I was hardly four years ofage at this time, and the terrible scene I witnessed is enveloped withinmy mind in a blood-stained cloud. I can only remember how my mother, whowept as she embraced us both, suddenly fell upon us, covering us withblood; in vain did I try to recall her to life by my caresses--she wasdead."
There was a silence. Bloodson listened eagerly to this story with pallidface, frowning brow, convulsively pressing the barrel of his rifle, andwiping away at intervals the perspiration that poured down his face.
"Go on, child," he muttered.
"I remember nothing further; men resembling demons rushed into thehacienda, seized my sister and myself, and set out at the full speed oftheir horses. Alas, since that period I have never again seen mymother's sweet face, or my father's kindly smile; henceforth I was aloneamong the bandits who carried me off."
"But your sister, girl, your sister, what became of her?"
"I do not know; a violent quarrel broke out among our ravishers, andblood was shed. After this quarrel they separated. My sister was takenin one direction, I in another; I never, saw her again."
Bloodson seemed to make an effort over himself, then fixing histear-laden eyes on her, he exclaimed, fervently--
"Mercedes! Mercedes! it is really you? Do I find, you again after somany years?"
White Gazelle raised her head quickly.
"Mercedes," she repeated, "that is the name my mother gave me."
"It is I, I, Stefano, your uncle! your father's brother!" Bloodson said,as he pressed her, almost mad with joy, to his breast.
"Stefano! My uncle! Yes, yes, I remember--I know."
She fell lifeless in Bloodson's arms.
"Wretch that I am, I have killed her--Mercedes, my beloved child, cometo yourself!"
The girl opened her eyes again, and threw herself on Bloodson's neck,weeping with joy.
"Oh, my uncle! My uncle! I have a family at last, then. Thank God!" Thehunter's face became grave.
"You are right, child," he said, "thank God, for it is He who has doneeverything, and who decreed that I should find you again on the tomb ofthose whom we have both been lamenting for so many years."
"What do you mean, uncle?" she asked, in surprise.
"Follow me, girl," the wood ranger replied; "follow me, and you shallknow."
The girl rose with difficulty, leant on his arm, and followed him. Bythe accent of Don Stefano's voice, Mercedes understood that her unclehad an important revelation to make her. They found some difficulty inwalking through the ruins, obstructed with grass and creepers, but atlength reached the cross, where Bloodson stopped.
"On your knees, Mercedes," he said in a mournful voice; "on this spotyour father and mother were buried by me fifteen years ago, on such anight as this."
The girl fell on her knees without replying, and Don Stefano imitatedher. Both prayed for a long time with tears and sobs, and then they roseagain. Bloodson made his niece a sign to sit down at the foot of thecross, placed himself by her, an after passing his hand over hisforehead as if to collect his thoughts, he spoke in a dull voice, withan accent which, in spite of all his resolution, sorrow caused totremble.
"Listen to me, child," he said, "for what you are about to hear
willperhaps help us to find the murderers of your parents, if they stilllive."
"Speak, uncle," she said in a firm voice; "yes, you are right: Heavenwilled it that our meeting should take place thus. Be assured that themurderers will not be suffered to go much longer unpunished."
"So be it," said Don Stefano; "for fifteen years I have been awaitingthe hour of vengeance. Heaven will sustain me, I hope, till the momentwhen it strikes. Your father and I resided at the spot where we now are.This hill was occupied by a vast hacienda, which we built; thesurrounding fields belonging to us, and were cleared by two hundredpersons in our pay. Heaven blessed our labour, which prospered; everybodyloved and respected us around, for our abode was always open to thosewhom misfortune struck. But if our countrymen esteemed us and applaudedour efforts, the owners of an adjoining hacienda had vowed us animplacable hatred. For what reason? That I never succeeded indiscovering. Was it jealousy or base envy? In any case these men hatedus. There were three of them, and they did not belong to the Spanishrace; they were North Americans, or, at any rate, I can for certaintysay one of them, of the name of Wilkes, was so. Still, although thehatred that kept us apart was fierce, it was dull, and nothing led tothe supposition that it would ever burst into life. About this time,important business compelled me to take a journey of several days. Yourfather, poor child, and myself, could not separate, for a secretpresentiment seemed to warn us. When I returned, the hacienda wasutterly destroyed, and only a few pieces of the walls still smoked. Mybrother and our whole family, as well as the servants, had beenmurdered."
Bloodson stopped.
"Terminate this sad story, uncle," the girl said, hastily, "I must knowall, in order to take my share of the vengeance."
"That is true," Don Stefano replied; "but I have little more to say, andwill be brief; during a whole night I traversed these smoky ruins,seeking the corpses of those I loved; and when, after infinitedifficulty, I succeeded in finding them, I interred them piously, andtook an oath to avenge them over their tomb. This oath I havereligiously kept during fifteen years; unhappily, though I have punishedmany culprits, up to the present the leaders have escaped me by someextraordinary fatality. Your father, whom I found dying, expired in myarms ere he was able to tell me his assassins; and though I have stronggrounds for accusing Wilkes and his companions, no proof has yetcorroborated my suspicions, and the names of the villains are unknown tome. It was only the day before yesterday, when the scoundrel Sandovalfell, that I fancied I had discovered one of them at last."
"You were not mistaken, uncle; that man was really one of ourravishers," Mercedes replied, in a firm voice.
"And the others?" Don Stefano quickly asked.
"I know them, uncle."
At this revelation, Don Stefano uttered a cry that resembled the howl ofa wild beast.
"At last!" he exclaimed, with such an outburst of fury, that the girlwas almost terrified.
"And now, dear uncle," she went on, "permit me to ask you one question,after which I will answer yours, if you have any to ask."
"Speak, child."
"Why did you seize me and bring me here?"
"Because I fancied you the daughter of that Sandoval, and wished toimmolate you on the tomb of his victims," Bloodson answered, in atrembling voice.
"Did you not hear, then, what the man said to me?"
"No; seeing you bent over him, I thought you were watching him die. Yourfainting fit, which I attributed to sorrow, only augmented my certainty;that is why I rushed on you so soon as I saw you fall."
"But the letter you took from me would have revealed all to you."
"Do you think, then, child, I took the trouble to read it? No, I onlyrecognised you by the scapulary hung round your neck."
"The finger of God is in all this," the girl said, with an accent ofconviction; "it was really He who directed it all."
"Now it is your turn, Mercedes tell me who the assassins are."
"Give me the letter first, uncle."
"Here it is," he said, handing it to her.
The girl snatched it and tore it into the minutest fragments. Bloodsonsaw her do it without understanding her motive; when the last piece ofpaper was borne away by the breeze, the girl turned to her uncle.
"You wish to know the names of the assassins of my father, you say,uncle?"
"Yes."
"You are determined that the vengeance you have been pursuing so longshall not escape you, now that you are on the point of obtaining it, andyou wish to carry out your oath to the end?"
"Yes; but why all these questions?" he asked, impatiently.
"I will tell you, uncle," she replied, as she drew herself up withstrange resolution; "I, too, have also taken an oath, and do not wish tobreak it."
"What is its nature?"
"To avenge my father and mother, but to accomplish it I must be free toact as I think proper, and hence I will not reveal those means to youtill the time arrives; today I cannot do it."
Such resolution flashed in the girl's jet-black eye, that Bloodson didnot attempt to induce her to do what he desired; he understood that anypressing on his part would be useless.
"Very good," he answered, "be it so; but you swore to me--"
"That you shall know all when the moment arrives," she said, as shestretched out her right hand to the cross.
"Your word is enough; but may I at least know what you intend doing?"
"Up to a certain point you may."
"Go on."
"You have a horse?"
"At the foot of the hill."
"Bring it to me, uncle, and let me start; before all, let no one knowthe ties that unite us."
"I will be dumb."
"If ever you see or hear anything connected with me, believe nothing,feel surprised at nothing; say to yourself that I am acting on behalf ofour common vengeance, for that alone will be true."
Don Stefano shook his head, and said:
"You are very young, child, for so rude a task."
"Heaven will help me, uncle," she replied, with a flashing glance; "thetask is just and holy, for I desire to punish my father's assassins."
"Well," he continued, "your will be done: as you have said, it is a holytask, and I have no right to prevent you accomplishing it."
"Thanks, uncle," the girl said, feelingly; "and now, while I pray at myfather's tomb, do you fetch me your horse, that I may set out withoutdelay."
Bloodson retired without answering, and the girl fell on her knees atthe foot of the cross. Half an hour later, after tenderly embracing DonStefano, she mounted the horse, and started at a gallop in the directionof the Far West. Bloodson followed her as long as it was possible forhim to see her in the darkness, and, when she had disappeared, he fellon the tomb on his knees, muttering in a hollow voice:
"Will she succeed? Who knows?" he added with an accent impossible todescribe.
He prayed till day, but with the first beams of the sun he joined hiscomrades, and returned with them to the Far West.