CHAPTER XVII.
THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE.
Ambition is the most terrible and deceptious of all human passions,in the sense that it completely dries up the heart, and can never besatisfied.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero was not one of those coldly cruel men,solely governed by the instinct of art, or whom the smell of bloodintoxicates; but, with the implacable logic of ambitious persons, hewent direct to his object, overthrowing, without regret or remorse, allthe obstacles that barred his way to the object he had sworn to reach,even if he were compelled to wade in blood up to his knees, and trampleon a pile of corpses. He only regarded men as pawns in the great gameof chess he was playing, and strove to justify himself, and stifle thewarnings of his terrified conscience, by the barbarous axiom employed bythe ambitious in all ages and all countries, that the end justifies themeans.
His secret ambition, which, on a day of pretended frankness, he hadpartly revealed in an interview with the Count de Prebois Crance atHermosillo, was not to render himself independent, but simply to beelected, by means of a well-arranged pronunciamiento, President of theMexican Republic.
It was not through hatred that General Guerrero was so obstinatelybent on destroying the count. Ambitious men, who are ever ready tosacrifice their feelings to the interests of their gloomy machinations,know neither hatred nor friendship. Hence we must seek elsewhere thecause of the judicial murder of the count which was so implacablycarried out. The general feared the count, as an adversary who wouldconstantly thwart him in Sonora, where the first meshes of the net hewished to throw over Mexico were spun--an adversary ready to oppose theexecution of his plans by claiming the due performance of the articlesof partnership--a performance which, in the probable event of aninsurrection excited by the general, would have become impossible, byplunging the country for a lengthened period into a state of crisis andgeneral suspension of trade, which would have been most hostile to thesuccess of the lofty conceptions of the noble French adventurer.[1]
But the count had scarce fallen on the beach of Guaymas ere the generalrecognized the falseness of his calculations, and the fault he hadcommitted in sacrificing him. In fact, leaving out of the question thedeath of his daughter, the only being for whom he retained in somecorner of his heart a little of that fire which heaven illumes in allparents for their children, he found that he had exchanged a loyal andcautious adversary for an obstinate enemy--the more formidable because,caring for nothing, and having no personal ambition, he would sacrificeeverything without hesitation or calculation in behalf of the vengeancewhich he had solemnly vowed to obtain by any means, over the stillquivering body of his friend.
This implacable enemy, whom neither seduction nor intimidation couldarrest or even draw back, was Valentine Guillois.
Under these circumstances, the general committed a graver fault than hisfirst one--a fault which was fated to have incalculable consequences forhim. Being very imperfectly acquainted with Valentine Guillois, unawareof his inflexible energy of will, and ranking him in his mind withthose wood rangers, the Pariahs of civilization, who have only courageto fire, in a moment of despair, a shot from behind a tree, but whoseinfluence was after all insignificant, he despised him.
Valentine was careful not to dissipate, by any imprudent step, hisenemy's mistake, or even arouse his suspicions.
At the time of the Count de Prebois Crance's first expedition, whenall seemed to smile on him, and his followers already saw the completesuccess of their bold undertaking close at hand, Valentine had beenentrusted by his friend with various important operations and difficultmissions to the rich rancheros and hacenderos of the province. Valentinehad performed the duties his friend confided to him with his usualloyalty and uprightness of mind, and had been so thoroughly appreciatedby the persons with whom chance had brought him into connection, thatall had remained on friendly terms with him and given him unequivocalproofs of the sincerest friendship, especially upon the death of thecount.
It only depended on the hunter's will to be rich, since he knew analmost inexhaustible placer; and what the wood ranger would neverhave consented to for himself, for the sake of paltry gain, he didnot hesitate to attempt in order to avenge his friend. Followed byCurumilla, Belhumeur, and Black Elk, and leading a _recua_ of ten mules,he did what two hundred and fifty men could not have succeeded in doing.He went through Apacheria, crossed the fearful desert of sand in whichthe bones of the hapless companions of the Marquis de Lhorailles werebleaching, and, after enduring superhuman fatigue and braving terribledangers, he at length reached the placer. But this time he did not cometo take an insignificant sum; he wanted to collect a fortune at onestroke.
The hunter returned with his ten mules laden with gold. He knew that hewas beginning a struggle with a man who was enormously rich, and wishedto conquer him with his own weapons. In the new world, as in the old,money is the real sinew of war, and Valentine would not imperil thesuccess of his vengeance.
On returning to Guaymas, he realized his fortune, and found himself,in a single day, not one of the richest, but _the_ richest privateperson in Mexico, although it is a country in which fortunes attainto a considerable amount. Thus the gold of the placer, which, at anearlier period, had served to organize the count's expedition, and makehim believe for a moment in the realization of his dreams, was about toserve in avenging him, after having indirectly caused his death.
Then began between the general and the hunter a secret and unceasingstruggle, the more terrible through its hidden nature; and the general,struck without knowing whence the blows dealt his ambition came,struggled vainly, like a lion caught in a snare, while it was impossiblefor him to discover the obstinate enemy who hunted him down.
This man, who had hitherto succeeded in everything--who, during thecourse of his long and stormy political career, had surmounted thegreatest obstacles and forced his very detractors to admire the luckthat constantly accompanied his wildest and rashest conceptions--suddenly saw Fortune turn her back on him with such rapidity--we mayeven say brutality--that, scarce six weeks after the execution of thecount, he was obliged to resign his office of Military Governor, andquit, almost like a fugitive, the province of Sonora, where he had solong reigned as a master, and on which his iron yoke had pressed soheavily.
This first blow, dealt the general in the midst of his ambitiousaspirations, when he had only just begun to recover from the grief hisdaughter's death had caused him, was the more terrible because he didnot know to whom he should attribute his downfall.
Still, he did not long remain in doubt. An hour before his departurefrom Hermosillo he received a letter in which he was informed, in theminutest details, of the oath of vengeance taken against him, and ofthe steps taken to obtain his recall. This letter was signed "ValentineGuillois." The hunter, despising darkness and mystery, tore down theveil that covered him, and openly challenged his foe by manfully tellinghim to be on his guard.
On receiving this threatening declaration of war, the general fell intoan extraordinary passion, the more terrible because it was impotent,and then, when his mind became calm again, and he began reflecting, hefelt frightened. In truth, the man who stood so boldly before him as anenemy, must be very powerful and certain of success thus to dare anddefy him.
His departure from Sonora was a disgraceful flight, in which he tried,by craft and caution, to throw out his enemy; but the meeting at theFort of the Chichimeques, a meeting long prepared by the hunter, provedto him that he was unmasked once again, and conquered by his enemy.
The contemptuous manner in which Valentine dismissed him after hisstormy explanation with him, had internally filled the general withterror. What sinister projects could the man be meditating, what privatevengeance was he arranging, that, when he held him quivering in hisgrasp, he allowed his foe to escape, and refused to kill him, when thatwould have been so easy? What torture more terrible than death did heintend to inflict on him?
The remainder of his journey across the Rocky Mountains
, as far asMexico, was one protracted agony, during which, suffering from constantapprehension, and extreme nervous excitement, his diseased imaginationinflicted on him moral torture in the stead of which any physical painwould have been welcome.
The loss of his daughter's corpse, and above all, the death of hisfather's old comrade in arms, the only man in whom he put faith, and whopossessed his entire confidence, destroyed his energy, and for severaldays he was so overwhelmed by this double misfortune, that he longed fordeath.
His punishment was beginning. But General Guerrero was one of thosepowerful athletes who do not allow themselves to be overcome so easily;they may totter in the struggle, and roll on the sand of the arena,but they always rise again more terrible and menacing than before. Hisrevolted pride restored his expiring courage; and since an implacablewarfare was declared against him, he swore that he would fight to theend, whatever the consequences for him might be.
Moreover, two months had elapsed since his arrival in Mexico, and hisenemy had not revealed his presence by one of those terrible blows whichburst like a clap of thunder above his head. The general graduallybegan supposing that the hunter had only wished to force him to abandonSonora, and that, in despair of carrying out his plans advantageouslyin a city like Mexico, he was prudently keeping aloof, and if he hadnot completely renounced his vengeance, circumstances at any rate,independent of his will, compelled him to defer it.
The general, so soon as he was settled in the capital of Mexico,organized a large band of highly-paid spies, who had orders to beconstantly on the watch, and inform him of Valentine's arrival in thecity. Thus reassured by the reports of his agents, he continued withfeverish ardour the execution of his dark designs, for he felt convincedthat if he succeeded in attaining his coveted object, the hatred of theman who pursued him would no longer be dangerous. This was the moreprobable, because, so soon as he held the power in his own hands, hewould easily succeed in getting rid of an enemy, whom his position as aforeigner isolated, and rendered an object of dislike to the populace.
The general lived in a large house in the Calle de Tacuba; it was builtby one of his ancestors, and considered one of the handsomest in thecapital. We will describe in a few words the architecture of Mexico,for, as all the houses are built on the same pattern, or nearly so, byknowing one it is easy to form an idea of what the others must be.
The Mexican architecture greatly resembles the Arabic, and as for themode of arranging the rooms, it is still entirely in its infancy; but,since the Proclamation of the Independence, foreign architects havesucceeded, in most of the great towns, in opening side doors in thesuites of rooms, which formerly only communicated with one another, andhence compelled you to go through a bedroom to enter a dining room, orpass through a kitchen to reach the drawing room.
The general's house was composed of four buildings, two stories inheight, and with terraced roofs. Two courts separated these buildings,and an awning stretched over the four sides of the first yard, enablingvisitors to reach the wide stone steps dry footed. At the top of thisflight, a handsome covered gallery, adorned with vases of flowers andexotic shrubs, led to a vast anteroom, which opened into a splendidreception hall; after this came a considerable number of apartments,splendidly furnished in the European style.
The general only inhabited the first floor of his mansion. Althoughmost of the streets are paved at the present day, and the canals haveentirely disappeared, except in the lower districts of the city, wateris still found a few inches beneath the surface, which produces suchdamp, that the ground floor, rendered uninhabitable, is given up tostores and shops in nearly all the houses. The ground floor of the mainbuilding, looking on the Calle de Tacuba, was, therefore, occupied bybrilliant shops, which rendered the facade of the general's house evenmore striking.
The paintings and the ornaments carved on the walls, after the Spanishfashion, gave it a peculiar, but not unpleasant appearance, whichwas completed by the profusion of shrubs that lined the terrace, andconverted it into a hanging garden, like those of Babylon, some sixtyfeet above the ground. By-the-bye, these gardens, from which the cupolasof the churches seem to emerge, give a really fairy-like aspect to thecity, when you survey it in a glowing sunset, from the cathedral towers.
Seven or eight days had elapsed since the events we recorded in our lastchapter. General Guerrero, after a long conversation with Colonel DonJaime Lupo, Don Sirven, and two or three others of his most faithfulpartizans--a conversation in which the final arrangements were made forthe pronunciamiento which was to be attempted immediately--gave audienceto two of his spies, who assured him that the person, whose movementsthey were ordered to watch, had not yet arrived in Mexico.
When the hour for going to the theatre arrived, the general, temporarilyfreed from alarm, prepared to be present at an extraordinary performanceto be given, that same night, at the Santa Anna theatre; but at themoment when he was about to give orders for his carriage to be broughtup, the door of the room, in which he was sitting, opened, and a footmanappeared on the threshold, with a respectful bow.
"What do you want?" the general asked, turning round at the sound.
"Excellency," the valet replied, "a caballero desires a few minutes'conversation with your excellency."
"At this hour?" the general said, looking at a clock, "it isimpossible;" but, suddenly reflecting, he asked, "anyone you know,Isidro?"
"No, excellency; it is a caballero whom I have not yet had the honour ofseeing in the house."
"Hum," said the general, shaking his head thoughtfully, "is he agentleman?"
"That I can assure your excellency; and he told me that he had a mostimportant communication to make to you."
In the general's present position, as head of a conspiracy on the pointof breaking out, no detail must be neglected, no communication despised,so, after reflecting a little, he continued--
"You ought to have told the gentleman that I could not receive him solate, and that he had better call again tomorrow."
"I told him so, excellency."
"And he insisted?"
"Several times, excellency."
"Well, do you know his name, at least?"
"When I asked the caballero for it, he said it was useless, as you wouldnot know it; but if you wished to learn it, he would himself tell it toyour excellency."
"What a strange person," the general muttered to himself; "very good,"he then added aloud, "lead the gentleman to the small mirror room, and Iwill be with him immediately."
The footman bowed respectfully.
"Who can the man be, and what is the important matter he has to tellme?" the general muttered, as he was alone. "Hum, probably some poordevil mixed up in our conspiracy, who wants a little money. Well, he hadbetter be careful, for I am not the man to be plundered with impunity,and so he will find out, if his communication is not serious."
And, throwing on to a chair the plumed hat he held in his hand, heproceeded to the mirror room.
[1] See "Goldseekers." Same publishers.