CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
A MEXICAN MAJOR-DOMO.
Don Mariano, the dragoon officer, and the two sisters rushed up to the_azotea_, the hearts of all filled with a dread presentiment.
From the roof, already crowded with servants, a view of the ridge couldbe obtained--its whole slope from top to bottom being visible at asingle glance. A horrible spectacle came under the eyes of all at once.
At the upper end of the path which led towards the Hacienda del Valle, ahorse and horseman were seen lying upon the road close to one another.Both appeared to be wounded--the man struggling to regain his feet--thehorse making only the slightest motion, as if in the last moments oflife.
"Haste!" cried Don Mariano to his domestics. "Haste! Procure a litter,and have the wounded horseman carried down here to the house."
"If my eyes don't deceive me," said the young officer, casting uneasyglances to the hill, "yonder unfortunate man is poor old Rodriguez, theoldest of my father's servants."
The head of the wounded horseman was in fact covered with grey hair, ascould be seen from the _azotea_.
"The name Antonio Valdez," continued Don Rafael, "now recalls to me somefacts connected with that wretch. I remember something of a punishmentinflicted upon him; and I have a dark presentiment--Oh, heavens! SenorDon Mariano, such happiness to be thus interrupted--"
And without finishing his speech, the young officer hastily pressed thehand of his host, and rushed for the postern that opened towards thehills.
In a few seconds after, he was seen climbing the ridge, followed by thedomestics of Don Mariano, who carried a _litera_.
On reaching the wounded man, Don Rafael had no longer any doubts abouthis being old Rodriguez; though having seen the latter only in hischildhood, he remembered little more than the name.
Rodriguez, enfeebled by the loss of blood, and by the efforts he hadbeen making to get upon his feet, was fast losing consciousness.
"Hold!" said Don Rafael to the domestic. "It is useless placing him onthe _litera_. He will not be able to endure the motion. His blood hasnearly all run out by this terrible wound."
As the officer spoke he pointed to a large red spot upon the vest of thewounded man, beneath which the bloody orifice of a wound showed wherethe bullet had entered.
The dragoon captain had fairly won his spurs in the sanguinary wars ofthe Indian frontier. He had witnessed death in all its forms, and hisexperience had taught him to adopt the readiest means in such a crisis.
He first stopped the bleeding with his handkerchief, and then, takingthe scarf of China crape from his waist, he bound it tightly over thewound. For all this he had but little hopes of the man's recovery. Thebullet had entered between his shoulders, and passed clear through hisbody.
Don Rafael only anticipated that, the haemorrhage once stopped, thewounded man might return for a moment to consciousness, he was, nodoubt, the bearer of some important message from his master, and itbehoved Don Rafael to learn its purport.
Some time elapsed before the old servant opened his eyes; but one of DonMariano's people at that moment came up, carrying a flask of_aguardiente_. A few drops were poured down his throat. Some of theliquid was sprinkled over his temples, and this had the effect ofmomentarily reviving him.
Opening his eyes, he beheld his young master bending over him. He hadnot seen Don Rafael since childhood, but he knew he was in theneighbourhood, and that the young officer must be he.
"It is I, Rodriguez," said Don Rafael, speaking close to his ear. "I--Rafael Tres-Villas. You have a message from my father? Why has he sentyou?"
"Blessed be God that He has sent _you_," said the old man, speaking withdifficulty. "Oh! Senor Don Rafael, I bring fearful news. The haciendaDel Valle--"
"Is burnt?"
The wounded man made a sign in the negative.
"Besieged, then?"
"Yes," replied Rodriguez in a feeble voice.
"And my father?" inquired the officer with a look of anguish.
"He lives. He sent me to you--to Don Mariano's--to ask assistance. I--pursued by the brigands--a bullet--here! Do not stay with me. Hastento your father. If any misfortune happen--Antonio Valdez--Remember--Antonio Valdez--miscreant--taking vengeance for--oh, young master! DonRafael--pray for poor old Rodriguez--who nursed you when a child--pray--"
The sufferer could speak no more, even in whispers. His head fell backupon the turf. He was dead. When the litter was set down in thecourtyard of Las Palmas it carried only a corpse! Don Rafael had turnedback for his horse, and to bid a hasty adieu to the family of his host.
"If Costal were only here!" said Don Mariano. "Unfortunately the bravefellow is gone away. Only a few hours ago he came to take his leave ofme, with another of my people--a negro whom I had no great fancy for.Both, I believe, are on their way to join the insurgent army in thecapacity of scouts or guides. _Hola_!" continued the haciendado,shouting to one of the _peons_, "send hither the _mayor-domo_!"
This functionary soon made his appearance; not a house steward--as thename might seem to imply--in white cravat, stockings, and powdered wig;but, on the contrary, a strapping energetic fellow, dressed in full_ranchero_ costume, with a pair of spurs upon his booted heels, whoseenormous rowels caused him to walk almost upon his toes, and with longblack hair hanging to his shoulders like the manes of the half-wildhorses he was accustomed to ride. Such is the _mayor-domo_ of a Mexicanhacienda, whose duties, instead of confining him to the dwelling-house,consist in the general superintendence of the estate, often equal inextent to the half of a county. It is, therefore, necessary for him tobe a man of the most active habits, a first-class rider, ever in thesaddle, or ready to leap into it at a moment's notice. Such was thepersonage who presented himself in obedience to the summons of DonMariano.
"Give orders," said the latter, addressing him, "to my two vaqueros,Arroyo and Bocardo, to saddle their horses and accompany Senor DonRafael!"
"Neither Arroyo nor Bocardo can be found," replied the mayor-domo. "Itis eight days since I have seen either of them."
"Give each of them four hours in the _xepo_ (stocks), as soon as theyreturn!"
"I doubt whether they will ever return, Senor Don Mariano."
"What! have they gone to join Valdez, think you?"
"Not exactly," replied the mayor-domo; "I have my suspicions that thebrace of worthies have gone to get up a guerilla on their own account."
"Summon Sanchez, then!"
"Sanchez is laid up in bed, Senor Don Mariano. He has some bones brokenby a wild horse--that he had mounted for the first time--having rearedand fallen back upon him."
"So, Senor Don Rafael," said the haciendado with an air of vexation,"out of six servants which I counted yesterday I have not one to placeat your service, except my mayor-domo here, for I cannot reckon uponthose stupid Indian _peons_. The mayor-domo will attend you."
"No," rejoined Don Rafael; "it is not necessary. Let him remain here.I shall go alone to the assistance of my father, who, no doubt, willhave plenty of people with him. It is more likely a leader that iswanted."
The mayor-domo, dismissed by this answer, hurried towards the stables,to see that Don Rafael's horse was made ready for the road.