Read The Red Track: A Story of Social Life in Mexico Page 10


  CHAPTER VIII.

  A DECLARATION OF WAR.

  The general shrugged his shoulders with a contemptuous smile.

  "Nonsense," he said, "you are mad, my fine fellow. I know now whoyou are; your hatred of me has unconsciously discovered you. Removethat veil which is no longer of any use; I know you, for, as you areaware, hatred is clear-sighted. You are the French hunter whom I haveconstantly met in my path to impede my projects, or overthrow my plans."

  "Add," the hunter interrupted, "and whom you will ever meet."

  "Be it so, unless I crush you beneath my heel like a noxious insect."

  "Ever so proud and so indomitable, do you not fear lest, exasperated byyour insults, I may forget the oath I have taken, and sacrifice you tomy vengeance?"

  "Nonsense," he replied, with a disdainful toss of his head, "you killme? that is impossible, for you are too anxious to enjoy your revenge tostab me in a moment of passion."

  "That is true, this time you are right, Don Sebastian. I will not killyou, because, however culpable you may be, I do not recognize the rightto do so. Blood does not wash out blood, it only increases the stain;and I intend to take a more protracted vengeance on you than a stab or ashot will grant us. Besides this, vengeance has already commenced."

  "Indeed!" the general said sarcastically.

  "Still," the hunter continued with some emotion, "as the vengeancemust be straightforward, I wish to give you, in the presence of allthese gentlemen, the proof that I fear you no more today than I didwhen the struggle commenced between us. This veil which you reproach mefor wearing I am going to remove, not because you have recognized me,but because I deem it unworthy of me to conceal my features from youany longer. Brothers," he added, turning to his silent assistants, "mymask alone must fall, retain yours, for it is important for my plans ofvengeance that you should remain unknown."

  The four men bowed their assent, and the hunter threw away the crapethat covered his features.

  "Valentine Guillois!" the general exclaimed; "I was sure of it."

  On hearing this celebrated name, the hunters of the second caravan madea movement as if to rush forward, impelled either by curiosity or someother motive.

  "Stay," the Frenchman shouted, stopping them by a quick wave of thehand, "let me finish with this man first."

  They fell back with a bow.

  "Now," he continued, "we are really face to face. Well, listen patientlyto what still remains for me to tell you; and, perhaps, the assumedcalmness spread over your features will melt away before my words, likethe snow in the sunshine."

  "I will listen to you, because it is impossible for me to do otherwiseat this moment; but if you flatter yourself that you will affect me inany way, I am bound to warn you that you will not succeed. The hatred Ifeel for you is so thoroughly balanced by the contempt you inspire mewith, that nothing which emanates from you can move me in the slightestdegree."

  "Listen then," the hunter coldly continued; "when my unhappy friendfell at Guaymas, in my paroxysm of grief I allow that I intended tokill you; but reflection soon came, and I saw that it would be betterto let you live. Thanks to me, one week after the count's death, theMexican Government, not satisfied with disavowing your conduct publicly,deprived you of your command, without inquiry, and refused, in spite ofyour remonstrances, to explain to you the motives of their conduct."

  "Ah, ah," the general said, in a hissing but suppressed voice, "it wasto you, then, that I owe my recall?"

  "Yes, general, to me alone."

  "I am delighted to hear it."

  "You remained, then, in Sonora, without power or influence, hated anddespised by all, and marked on your forehead with that indelible brandwhich God imprinted on Cain, the first murderer; but Mexico is ablessed country, where ambitious men can easily fish in troubled waters,when, like yourself, they are not restrained by any of those bonds ofhonour, which too often fetter the genius of honest men. You could notremain long bowed beneath the blow that had fallen on you, and you madeup your mind in a few days. You resolved to leave Sonora and proceedto Mexico, where, thanks to your colossal fortune, and the influenceit would necessarily give you, you could carry on your ambitiousprojects; by changing the scene, you hoped to cast the scandalous actsof which you had been guilty into oblivion. Your preparations were soonmade--listen attentively, general, to this, for I assure you that I havereached the most interesting part of my narration."

  "Go on, go on, senor," he replied carelessly, "I am listening to youattentively; do not fear that I shall forget one of your words."

  "In spite of your affected indifference, senor, I will go on. As youfancied, for certain reasons which to is unnecessary to remind you of,that your enemies might try to lay some ambush for you, during thelong journey you were obliged to perform from Hermosillo to Mexico,you thought it necessary to take the following precautions, theinutility of some of which I presume that you have recognized by thistime. While, for the purpose of deceiving your enemies, you startedin disguise, and only accompanied by a few men, for California, inorder to return to Mexico across the Rocky Mountains; while you gavequestioners the fullest details of the road, you pretended to follow,with your men--your real object was quite different. The man in whomyou placed your confidence, Don Isidro Vargas, a veteran of your War ofIndependence, who had known you when a child, and whom you had convertedinto your tool, took the shortest, and, consequently, most direct routefor the capital, having with him not only twelve mules loaded with goldand silver, the fruit of your plunder during the period of your command,but a more precious article still, the body of your unhappy daughter,which you had embalmed, and which the captain had orders to inter withyour ancestors at your Hacienda del Palmar, which you left so long ago,and to which you will, in all probability, never return. Your objectin acting thus was not only to divert attention from your ill-gottenriches, but also to attract your enemies after yourself. Unfortunatelyor fortunately, according as we regard the matter, I am an old hunterso difficult to deceive that my comrades gave me long ago the glorioustitle of the Trail-hunter, and hence, while everybody else was formingspeculations about you, I alone was not deceived, and guessed your plan."

  "Still, your presence here gives a striking denial to the assertion,"the general interrupted him, ironically.

  "You think so, senor, and that proves that you are not thoroughlyacquainted with me yet; but patience, I hope that you will, ere long,appreciate me better. Moreover you have not reflected on the time thathas elapsed since your departure from Hermosillo."

  "What do you mean?" the general asked, with a sudden start ofapprehension.

  "I mean that before attacking you, I resolved to settle matters firstwith the captain."

  "Ah!"

  "Well, general, it is my painful duty to inform you that four daysafter he left Pitic, our brave friend Don Isidro, although an oldand experienced soldier, well versed in war stratagems, fell into anambuscade resembling the one into which you fell today, with thisexception----."

  "What exception?" the general asked, with greater interest than he wouldhave liked to display, for he was beginning to fear a catastrophe.

  "My men were so imprudent," the hunter continued, ironically, "as toleave the captain the means of defending himself. The result was that hedied, bravely fighting to save the gold you had intrusted to him, and,before all, the coffin containing your daughter's corpse."

  "Well, and I presume you plundered the caravan, and carried off the goldand silver?" he asked, contemptuously.

  "You would most probably have acted thus under similar circumstances,Don Sebastian," the hunter answered, giving him back insult for insult;"but I thought it my duty to act differently. What could you expect?I, a coarse, uneducated hunter, do not know how to plunder, for I didnot learn it when I had the honour to serve my own country, and I neverstood under your orders in Mexico. This is what I did: so soon as thecaptain and the peons he commanded were killed--for the poor devils, Imust do them the justice of saying, offered a despe
rate resistance--Imyself, you understand, friend, I myself conveyed the money to yourHacienda del Palmar, where it now remains in safety, as you can easilyassure yourself if you ever return to Palmar."

  The general breathed again, and smiled ironically. "Instead of blamingyou, senor," he said, "I, on the contrary, owe you thanks for thischivalrous conduct, especially toward an enemy."

  "Do not be in such an hurry to thank me, caballero," the hunteranswered; "I have not told you all yet."

  These words were uttered with such an accent of gratified hatred, thatall the hearers, the general included, shuddered involuntarily, for theyunderstood that the hunter was about to make a terrible revelation, andthat the calmness he feigned concealed a tempest.

  "Ah," Don Sebastian murmured, "speak, I implore you, senor, for I amanxious to know all the obligations I owe you."

  "Captain Don Isidro Vargas not only escorted the money I had conveyed toPalmar," he said in a sharp, quick voice, "but there was also a coffin.Well, general, why do you not ask me what has become of that coffin?"

  An electric shock ran through the audience on hearing the ironicalquestion so coldly asked by the hunter, whose eye, implacably fixed onthe general, seemed to flash fire.

  "What!" Don Sebastian exclaimed, "I can hardly think that you havecommitted sacrilege?"

  Valentine burst into a loud and sharp laugh. "Your suppositions ever gobeyond the object. I commit sacrilege, oh, no! I loved the poor girl toodearly when alive to outrage her after death. No, no, the betrothed ofmy friend is sacred to me; but as, in my opinion, the assassin can haveno claim to the body of his victim, and you are morally your daughter'smurderer, I have robbed you of this body, which you are not worthy tohave, and which must rest by the side of him for whom she died."

  There was a moment's silence. The general's face, hitherto pale, assumeda greenish hue, and his eyes were suffused with blood. Now and then hemade superhuman efforts to speak, which were unsuccessful, but at lengthhe yelled in a hoarse and hissing voice--

  "It is not true; you have not done this. You cannot have dared to rob afather of his child's body."

  "I have done it, I tell you," the hunter said coldly. "I have takenpossession of the body of your victim, and now you understand me;never shall you know where this poor body rests. But this is onlythe beginning of my vengeance. What I wish to kill in you is the souland not the body; and now begone, go and forget at Mexico, amid yourambitious intrigues, the scene that has passed between us; but rememberthat you will find me in your path everywhere and ever. Farewell till wemeet again."

  "One last word," the general exclaimed, affected by the deepest despair,"restore me my daughter's body; she was the only human creature I everloved."

  The hunter regarded him for a moment with an undefinable expression, andthen said in a harsh and coldly-mocking voice, "Never."

  Then, turning away, he re-entered the grotto, followed by hisassistants. The general tried to rush after him, but the Indiansrestrained him, and, in spite of his resistance, compelled him to stop.

  Don Sebastian, who was the more overwhelmed by the last blow becauseit was unexpected, stood for a moment like a man struck by lightning,with pendant arms and seared eyes. At last a heartrending sob burst fromhis bosom, two burning tears sprung from his eyes, and he rolled like acorpse on the ground.

  The very Indians, those rough warriors to whom pity is a thing unknown,felt moved by this frightful despair, and several of them turned awaynot to witness it.

  In the meanwhile the Jester had ordered the peons to saddle the horsesand load the mules. The general was placed by two servants on a horse,without appearing to notice what was done to him, and a few minuteslater the caravan left the Fort of the Chichimeques, and passedunimpeded through the silent ranks of the Indians, who bowed as itpassed.

  "When the Mexicans had disappeared in the windings of the road,Valentine emerged from the grotto, and walked courteously up to thehunters of the second caravan.

  "Forgive me," he said to them, "not the delay I have occasioned you,but the involuntary alarm I caused you; but I was compelled to act as Idid. You are going to Mexico, where I shall soon be myself, and it ispossible that I may require your testimony some day."

  "A testimony which will not be refused, my dear countryman," the hunterwho had hitherto spoken gracefully answered.

  "What!" the hunter exclaimed in amazement, "are you French?"

  "Yes, and all my companions are so, too. We have come from SanFrancisco, where, thanks to Providence, we have amassed a veryconsiderable fortune, which we hope to double in the Mexican capital.My name is Antoine Rallier, and these are my brothers, Edward andAugustus; the two ladies who accompany us are my mother and sister, andif you know nobody in Mexico, come straight to me, sir, and you will bereceived, not only as a friend, but as a brother."

  The hunter pressed the hand his countryman offered him.

  "As this is the case," he said, "I will not let you go alone, for thesemountains are infested by bandits of every description, whom you may notescape, but with my protection you can pass anywhere."

  "I heartily accept the offer; but why do you not come with us to Mexico?"

  "That is impossible for the present," the hunter answered pensively;"but be at your ease. I shall not fail to demand the fulfilment of yourpromise."

  "You will be welcome, friend, for we have been acquainted for a longtime, and we know that you have ever honourably represented France inAmerica."

  Two hours later the Fort of the Chichimeques had returned to its usualsolitude; white men and Indians had abandoned it for ever.