The Free Lances, by Captain Mayne Reid. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

VOLUNTEERS FOR TEXAS. 

"I'll go!"

This laconism came from the lips of a young man who was walking alongthe Levee of New Orleans. Just before giving utterance to it he hadmade a sudden stop, facing a dead wall, enlivened, however, by a largeposter, on which were printed, in conspicuous letters, the words--

"Volunteers for Texas!"

Underneath, in smaller type, was a proclamation, setting forth thetreachery of Santa Anna and the whole Mexican nation, recalling instrong terms the Massacre of Fanning, the butchery of Alamo, and otherlike atrocities; ending in an appeal to all patriots and lovers offreedom to arm, take the field, and fight against the tyrant of Mexicoand his myrmidons. 

"I'll go!" said the young man, after a glance given to the printedstatement; then, more deliberately re-reading it, he repeated the wordswith an emphasis that told of his being in earnest. 

The poster also gave intimation of a meeting to be held the same eveningat a certain _rendezvous_ in Poydras Street. 

He who read only lingered to make note of the address, which was thename of a noted _cafe_. Having done this, he was turning to continuehis walk when his path was barred by a specimen of humanity, who stoodfull six foot six in a pair of alligator leather boots, on the_banquette_ by his side, "So ye're goin', air ye?" was thehalf-interrogative speech that proceeded from the individual thusconfronting him. 

"What's that to you?" bluntly demanded the young fellow, his temper alittle ruffled by what appeared an impertinent obstruction on the partof some swaggering bully. 

"More'n you may think for, young 'un, " answered the booted Colossus, still standing square in the way; "more'n you may think for, seein' it'sthrough me that bit o' paper's been put up on that 'ere wall. "

"You're a bill-sticker, I suppose?" sneeringly retorted the "young 'un. "

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the giant, with a cachinnation that resembled theneighing of a horse. "A bill-sticker, eh! Wal; I likes that. An' Ilikes yur grit, too, young feller, for all ye are so sassy. But yeneedn't git riled, an' I reckon ye won't, when I tell ye who I am. "

"And who are you; pray?"

"Maybe ye mount a hearn o' Cris Rock?"

"What! Cris Rock of Texas? He who at Fanning's--"

"At Fannin's massacree war shot dead, and kim alive agin. "

"Yes, " said the interrogator, whose interrogatory referred to the almostmiraculous escape of one of the betrayed victims of the Goliad butchery. 

"Jess so, young feller. An' since ye 'pear to know somethin' 'bout me, I needn't tell ye I ain't no _bill-sticker_, nor why I 'peared to showimpartinence by putting in my jaw when I heern ye sing out, `I'll go. 'I thort it wouldn't need much introduxshun to one as I mout soon hope tocall kumarade. Yer comin' to the rendyvoo the night, ain't ye?"

"Yes; I intend doing so. "

"Wal, I'll be there myself; an' if ye'll only look high enough, I reck'nye kin sight me 'mong the crowd. 'Tain't like to be the shortest thar, "he added, with a smile that bespoke pride in his superior stature, "tho'ye'll see some tall 'uns too. Anyhow, jest look out for Cris Rock; and, when foun', that chile may be of some sarvice to ye. "

"I shall do so, " rejoined the other, whose good humour had become quiterestored. 

About to bid good-bye, Rock held out a hand, broad as the blade of acanoe-paddle. It was freely taken by the stranger, who, while shakingit, saw that he was being examined from head to foot. 

"Look hyar!" pursued the Colossus, as if struck by some thought which acloser scrutiny of the young man's person had suggested; "hev ye everdid any sogerin'? Ye've got the look o' it. "

"I was educated in a military school--that's all. "

"Where? In the States?"

"No. I am from the other side of the Atlantic. "

"Oh! A Britisher. Wal, that don't make no difference in Texas. Thar'sall sorts thar. English, ain't ye?"

"No, " promptly answered the stranger, with a slight scornful curling ofthe lip: "I'm an Irishman, and not one of those who deny it. "

"All the better for that. Thar's a bit of the same blood somewhar in myown veins, out o' a grandmother, I b'lieve, as kim over the mountainsinto Kaintuck, 'long wi' Dan Boone an' his lot. So ye've been eddycatedat a milintary school, then? D'ye unnerstan' anything about thetrainin' o' sogers?"

"Certainly I do. "

"Dog-goned, ef you ain't the man we want! How'd ye like to be anofficer? I reck'n ye're best fit for that. "

"Of course I should like it; but as a stranger among you, I shouldn'tstand much chance of being elected. You choose your officers, don'tyou?"

"Sartin, we eelect 'em; an' we're goin' to hold the eelections this verynight. Lookee hyar, young fellur; I like yer looks, an' I've seed proofye've got the stuff in ye. Now, I want to tell ye somethin' ye oughterto know. I belong to this company that's jest a formin', and thar's afellur settin' hisself up to be its capting. He's a sort o' halfSpanish, half French-Creole, o' Noo-Orleans hyar, an' we old Texansdon't think much o' him. But thar's only a few o' us; while 'mong theOrleans city fellurs as are goin' out to, he's got a big pop'larity bystandin' no eend o' drinks. He ain't a bad lookin' sort for sogerin', and has seen milintary sarvice, they say. F'r all that, thar's ahangdog glint 'bout his eyes this chile don't like; neither do some o'the others. So, young un, if you'll come down to the rendyvoo in goodtime, an' make a speech--you kin speechify, can't ye?"

"Oh, I suppose I could say something. "

"Wal, you stump it, an' I'll put in a word or two, an' then we'llperpose ye for capting; an' who knows we mayent git the majority arterall? You'er willin' to try, ain't ye?"

"Quite willing, " answered the Irishman, with an emphasis which showedhow much the proposal was to his mind. "But why, Mr Rock, are you nota candidate yourself? You have seen service, and would make a goodofficer, I should say. "

"Me kandydate for officer! Wal, I'm big enough, thet's true, and ef youlike, ugly enuf. But I ain't no ambeeshum thet way. Besides, thischile knows nothin' 'bout _drill_; an' that's what's wanted bad. Yesee, we ain't had much reg'lar sogerin' in Texas. Thar's whar theMexikins hev the advantage o' us, an' thar's whar you'll hev the same ifyou'll consent to stan'. You say you will?"

"I will, if you wish it. "

"All square then, " returned the Texan, once more taking his _protege_ bythe hand, and giving it a squeeze like the grip of a grizzly bear. "I'll be on the lookout for ye. Meanwhile, thar's six hours to the goodyet afore it git sundown. So go and purpar' yur speech, while I slideroun' among the fellurs, an' do a leetle for ye in the line o'canvassin'. "

After a final bruin-like pressure of the hand the giant had commencedstriding away, when he came again to a halt, uttering a loud "Hiloo!"

"What is it?" inquired the young Irishman. 

"It seems that Cris Rock air 'bout one o' the biggest nummorskulls inall Noo-Orleans. Only to think! I was about startin' to take the stumpfor a kandydate 'ithout knowin' the first letter o' his name. How wurye crissened, young fellur?"

"Kearney--Florence Kearney. "

"Florence, ye say? Ain't that a woman's name?"

"True; but in Ireland many men bear it. "

"Wal, it do seem a little kewrious; but it'll do right slick, and theKearney part soun's well. I've hern speak o' Kate Kearney; thar's asong 'bout the gurl. Mout ye be any connexshun o' hern?"

"No, Mr Rock; not that I'm aware of. She was a Killarney woman. I wasborn a little further north on the green island. "

"Wal, no matter what part o' it, yur are welkim to Texas, I reck'n, orthe States eyther. Kearney--I like the name. It hev a good ring, an'it'll soun' all the better wi' `Capting' for a handle to 't--the whichit shall hev afore ten o'clock this night, if Cris Rock ain't astray inhis reck'nin'. But see as ye kum early to the rendyvoo, so as to hevtime for a talk wi' the boys. Thar's a somethin' in that; an' if ye'vegot a ten dollar bill to spare, spend it on drinks all round. Thar's agood deal in that too. "

So saying, the Texan strode off, leaving Florence Kearney to reflectupon the counsel so opportunely extended. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

A LADY IN THE CASE. 

Who Florence Kearney was, and what his motive for becoming a"filibuster, " the reader shall be told without much tediousness ofdetail. 

Some six months before the encounter described, he had landed from aLiverpool cotton ship on the Levee of New Orleans. A gentleman by birthand a soldier-scholar by education, he had gone to the New World withthe design to complete his boyhood's training by a course of travel, andprepare himself for the enacting the _metier_ of a man. That thistravel should be westward, over fresh untrodden fields, instead of alongthe hackneyed highways of the European tourist, was partly due to thecounsels of a tutor--who had himself visited the New World--and partlyto his own natural inclinations. 

In the course of his college studies he had read the romantic history ofCortez's conquest, and his mind had become deeply imbued with thepicturesqueness of Mexican scenes; so that among the fancies of hisyouthful life one of the pleasantest was that of some day visiting theland of Anahuac, and its ancient capital, Tenochtitlan. After leavingcollege the dream had grown into a determination, and was now in the actof being realised. In New Orleans he was so far on his way. He camethither expecting to obtain passage in a coasting vessel to some Mexicanseaport--Tampico or Vera Cruz. 

Why he had not at once continued his journey thither was due to nodifficulty in finding such a vessel. There were schooners sailing everyweek to either of the above ports that would have accommodated him, yetstill he lingered in New Orleans. His reason for thus delaying was onefar from uncommon--this being a lady with whom he had fallen in love. 

At first the detention had been due to a more sensible cause. Notspeaking the Spanish language, which is also that of Mexico, he knewthat while travelling through the latter country he would have to go asone dumb. In New Orleans he might easily obtain a teacher; and havingsought soon found one, in the person of Don Ignacio Valverde, --a refugeeMexican gentleman, a victim of the tyrant Santa Anna, who, banished fromhis country, had been for several years resident in the States as anexile. And an exile in straitened circumstances, one of the hardestconditions of life. Once, in his own country, a wealthy landowner, DonIgnacio was now compelled to give lessons in Spanish to such straypupils as might chance to present themselves. Among the rest, by chancecame Florence Kearney, to whom he had commenced teaching it. 

But while the latter was making himself master of the Andalusian tongue, he also learnt to love one who spoke it as purely, and far more sweetly, than Don Ignacio. This was Don Ignacio's daughter. 

After parting with Cris Rock, the young Irishman advanced along theLevee, his head bowed forward, with eyes to the ground, as if examiningthe oyster-shells that thickly bestrewed the path; anon giving hisglance to the river, as though stirred by its majestic movement. But hewas thinking neither of the empty bivalves, nor the flow of the mightystream. Nor yet of the speech he had promised to make that same nightat the _rendezvous_ of filibusters. Instead he was reflecting upon thataffair of the heart, from which he had been for some time suffering. 

To make known his feelings it is necessary to repeat what passed throughhis mind after he had separated from the Texan. 

"There's something odd in all this, " soliloquised he, as he strode on. "Here am I going to fight for a country I care nothing about, andagainst one with which I have no cause of quarrel. On the contrary, Ihave come four thousand miles to visit the latter, as a peacefulfriendly traveller. Now I propose making entry into it, sword in hand, as an enemy and invader! The native land, too, of her who has takenpossession of my heart! Ah! therein lies the very reason: _I have notgot hers_. I fear--nay, I am certain of that, from what I saw thismorning. Bah! What's the use of thinking about it, or about her?Luisa Valverde cares no more for me than the half-score of others--theseyoung Creole `bloods, ' as they call themselves--who flit likebutterflies around her. She's a sweet flower from which all of themwish to sip. Only one will succeed, and that's Carlos Santander. Ihate the very sight of the man. I believe him to be a cheat and ascoundrel. No matter to her. The cheat she won't understand; and, ifreport speak true of her country and race, the scoundrel would scarcelyqualify him either. Merciful heavens! to think I should love thisMexican girl, warned as I've been about her countrywomen! 'Tis afascination, and the sooner I get away from it and her presence, thebetter it may be for me. Now, this Texan business offers a chance ofescaping the peril. If I find she cares not for me, it will be a sortof satisfaction to think that in fighting against her country I may in away humiliate herself. Ah, Texas! If you find in me a defender, itwill not be from any patriotic love of you, but to bury bitter thoughtsin oblivion. "

The chain of his reflections, momentarily interrupted was after a timecontinued: "My word, " he exclaimed, "there's surely something ominous inmy encounter with this Cris Rock! Destiny seems to direct me. Here amI scheming to escape from a thraldom of a siren's smiles, and, to do so, ready to throw myself into the ranks of a filibustering band! On theinstant a friend is found--a patron who promises to make me theirleader! Shall I refuse the favour, which fortune herself seems tooffer? Why should I? It is fate, not chance; and this night at theirmeeting I shall know whether it is meant in earnest. So, canvass yourbest for me, Cris Rock; and I shall do my best to make a suitablespeech. If our united efforts prove successful, then Texas shall gain afriend, and Luisa Valverde lose _one_ of her lovers. "

At the conclusion of this speech--half boastful, half bitter--FlorenceKearney had reached the hotel where he was stopping--the celebrated"Saint Charles, " and entering its grand saloon, sat down to reflectfurther on the step he was about to take. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

OFFICERING THE FILIBUSTERS. 

The volunteer _rendezvous_ was in a tavern, better known by the name of"Coffee House, " in the street called Poydras. The room which had beenchartered for the occasion was of ample dimensions, capable ofcontaining three hundred men. Drawn together by the printedproclamation that had attracted the attention of the young Irishman inhis afternoon stroll, two-thirds of the above number had collected, andof these at least one-half were determined upon proceeding to Texas. 

It was a crowd composed of heterogeneous elements--such as has everbeen, and ever will be, the men who volunteer for a military, moreespecially a filibustering expedition. 

Present in the hall were representatives of almost every civilisednation upon earth. Even some that could scarce boast of civilisation;for among the faces seen around the room were many so covered withbeards, and so browned with sun, as to tell of long sojourn in savageparts, if not association with the savages themselves. In obedience tothe counsels of the Texan, Florence Kearney--a candidate for commandover this motley crew--made early appearance in their midst. Not soearly as to find that, on entering the room, he was a stranger to itsoccupants. Cris Rock had been there before him, along with a half-scoreof his _confreres_--old Texans of the pure breed--who having taken partin most of the struggles of the young Republic, had strayed back to NewOrleans, partly for a spree, and partly to recruit fresh comrades to aidthem in propagating that principle which had first taken them to Texas--the "Monroe Doctrine. "

To these the young Irishman was at once confidentially introduced, and"stood drinks" freely. He would have done so without care of what wasto come of it; since it was but the habit of his generous nation. Norwould this of itself have given him any great advantage, for not longafter entering the room, he discovered that not only drinks, butdollars, were distributed freely by the opposition party, who seemedearnestly bent upon making a captain of their candidate. 

As yet Kearney had not looked upon his competitor, and was even ignorantof his name. Soon, however, it was communicated to him, just as the manhimself, escorted by a number of friends, made his appearance in theroom. The surprise of the young Irishman may be imagined; when he sawbefore him one already known, and too well-known, --his rival in theaffections of Luisa Valverde!

Yes; Carlos Santander was also a candidate for the command of thefilibusters. 

To Kearney the thing was a surprise, and something besides. He knewSantander to be on terms of very friendly and intimate relationship notonly with Don Ignacio, but other Mexicans he had met at the exile'shouse. Strange, that the Creole should be aspiring to the leadership ofa band about to invade their country! For it was _invasion_ the Texansnow talked of, in retaliation for a late raid of the Mexicans to theircapital, San Antonio. But these banished Mexicans being enemies ofSanta Anna it was after all not so unnatural. By humiliating theDictator, they would be aiding their own party to get back into power--even though the help came from their hereditary foemen, the squatters ofTexas. 

All this passed through the mind of the young Irishman, though notaltogether to satisfy him. The presence of Santander there, as aspirantfor leadership, seemed strange notwithstanding. 

But he had no opportunity for indulging in conjectures--only time toexchange frowns at his rival and competitor, when a man in undressuniform--a Texan colonel--who acted as chairman of the meeting, mountingupon a table, cried "Silence!" and, after a short pithy speech, proposedthat the election of officers should at once proceed. The proposal wasseconded, no one objecting; and, without further parley, the "balloting"began. 

There was neither noise nor confusion. Indeed, the assembly was one ofthe quietest, and without any street crowd outside. There were reasonsfor observing a certain secrecy in the proceedings; for, although themovement was highly popular all over the States, there were somecompromising points of International law, and there had been talk ofGovernment interference. 

The election was conducted in the most primitive and simple fashion. The names of the candidates were written upon slips of paper, anddistributed throughout the room--only the members who had formed theorganisation having the right to vote. Each of them chose the slipbearing the name of him he intended to vote for, and dropped it into ahat carried round for the purpose. The other he threw away, or slippedif to his pocket. 

When all had deposited their ballots, the hat was capsized, and the bitsof paper shaken out upon the table. The chairman, assisted by two othermen, examined the votes and counted them. Then ensued a short intervalof silence, broken only by an occasional word of direction from thechairman, with the murmuring hum of the examiners, and at length came ina clear loud voice--that of the Texan colonel--"_The votes are in favourof Kearney! Florence Kearney elected Captain by a majority ofthirty-three_!"

A cheer greeted the announcement, in which something like a screech fromCris Rock could be heard above all voices; while the giant himself wasseen rushing through the crowd to clasp the hand of his _protege_, whomhe had voluntarily assisted in promoting to a rank above himself. 

During the excitement, the defeated candidate was observed to skulk outof the room. Those who saw him go could tell by his look of sullendisappointment he had no intention of returning; and that thefilibustering cohort was not likely to have the name, "CarlosSantander, " any longer on its roll-call. 

He and his were soon forgotten. The lieutenants were yet to be chosen. One after another--first, second, and _brevet_--was proposed, ballotedfor, and elected in the same way as the captain. 

Then there was a choice of sergeants and corporals, till theorganisation was pronounced complete. In fine, fell a shower ofcongratulations, with "drinks all round, " and for several successiverounds. Patriotic speeches also, in the true "spread-eagle" style, withapplauding cheers, and jokes about Santa Anna and his _cork-leg_; whenthe company at length separated, after singing the "Star-SpangledBanner. "

CHAPTER FOUR. 

AN INVITATION TO SUPPER. 

Florence Kearney, parting from his new friends, the filibusters, sauntered forth upon the street. 

On reaching the nearest corner he came to a stop, as if undecided whichway to turn. 

Not because he had lost his way. His hotel was but three blocks off;and he had, during his short sojourn in the Crescent City, becomeacquainted with almost every part of it. It was not ignorance of thelocality, therefore, which was causing him to hesitate; but somethingvery different, as the train of his thoughts will tell. 

"Don Ignacio, at least, will expect me--wish me to come, whether she door not. I accepted his invitation, and cannot well--oh! had I knownwhat I do now--seen what I saw this morning--Bah! I shall return to thehotel and never more go near her!"

But he did not return to his hotel; instead, still stood irresolute, asif the thing were worth further considering. 

What made the young man act thus? Simply a belief that Luisa Valverdedid not love him, and, therefore, would not care to have him as acompanion at supper; for it was to supper her father had asked him. Onthe day before he had received the invitation, and signified acceptanceof it. But he had seen something since which had made him half repenthaving done so; a man, Carlos Santander, standing beside the woman heloved, bending over her till his lips almost touched her forehead, whispering words that were heard, and, to all appearance, heeded. Whatthe words were Florence Kearney knew not, but could easily guess theirnature. They could only be of love; for he saw the carmine on hercheeks as she listened to them. 

He had no right to call the young lady to an account. During all hisintercourse with Don Ignacio, he had seen the daughter scarce half ascore times; then only while passing out and in--to or from his lessons. Now and then a few snatches of conversation had occurred between themupon any chance theme--the weather, the study he was prosecuting (how hewished _she_ had been his teacher), and the peculiarities of the NewOrleans life, to which they were both strangers. And only once had sheappeared to take more than an ordinary interest in his speech. This, when he talked of Mexico, and having come from his own far land, "Irlandesa, " with an enthusiastic desire to visit hers, telling her ofhis intention to do so. On this occasion he had ventured to speak ofwhat he had heard about Mexican banditti; still more of the beauty ofthe Mexican ladies--naively adding that he would no doubt be in lessdanger of losing his life than his heart. 

To this he thought she had listened, or seemed to listen, with more thanordinary attention, looking pensive as she made reply. 

"Yes, Don Florencio! you will see much in Mexico likely to give yougratification. 'Tis true, indeed, that many of my countrywomen arefair--some very fair. Among them you will soon forget--"

Kearney's heart beat wildly, hoping he would hear the monosyllable "me. "But the word was not spoken. In its place the phrase "us poor exiles, "with which somewhat commonplace remark the young Mexican concluded herspeech. 

And still there was something in what she had said, but more in hermanner of saying it, which made pleasant impression upon him--somethingin her tone that touched a chord already making music in his heart. Ifit did not give him surety of her love, it, for the time, hindered himfrom despairing of it. 

All this had occurred at an interview he had with her only the daybefore; and, since, sweet thoughts and hopes were his. But on the samemorning they were shattered--crushed out by the spectacle he hadwitnessed, and the interpretation of those whispered words he had failedto hear. It had chased all hope out of his heart, and sent him in wild, aimless strides along the street, just in the right frame of mind forbeing caught by that call which had attracted his eyes on the poster--

"Volunteers for Texas. " And just so had he been caught; and, asdescribed, entered among the filibustering band to be chosen its chief. To the young Irishman it was a day of strange experiences, varying asthe changes of a kaleidoscope; more like a dream than reality; and afterreflecting upon it all, he thus interrogated himself--

"Shall I see her again, or not? Why not? If she's lost, she cannot beworse lost by my having another interview with her. Nor could I feelworse than I do now. Ah! with this laurel fresh placed upon my brow!What if I tell her of it--tell her I am about to enter her native landas an invader? If she care for her country, that would spite her; andif I find she cares not for me, her spite would give me pleasure. "

It was not an amiable mood for a lover contemplating a visit to hissweetheart. Still, natural enough under the circumstances; and FlorenceKearney, wavering no longer, turned his steps towards that part of thecity where dwelt Don Ignacio Valverde. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

A STUDIED INSULT. 

In a small house of the third Municipality, in the street called CasaCalvo, dwelt Don Ignacio Valverde. It was a wooden structure--a framedwelling--of French-Creole fashion, consisting of but a single story, with casement windows that opened on a verandah, in the Southern Statestermed _piazza_; this being but little elevated above the level of theoutside street. Besides Don Ignacio and his daughter, but one otherindividual occupied the house--their only servant, a young girl ofMexican nativity and mixed blood, half white, half Indian--in short, a_mestiza_. The straitened circumstances of the exile forbade a moreexpensive establishment. Still, the insignia within were not those ofpinched poverty. The sitting-room, if small, was tastefully furnished, while, among other chattels speaking of refinement, were several volumesof books, a harp and a guitar, with accompaniment of sheets of music. The strings of these instruments Luisa Valverde knew how to touch withthe skill of a professional, both being common in her own country. 

On that night, when the election of the filibustering officers was beingheld in Poydras Street, her father, alone with her in the samesitting-room, asked her to play the harp to the accompaniment of a song. Seating herself to the instrument, she obeyed, singing one of those_romanzas_ in which the language of Cervantes is so rich. It was, infact, the old song "El Travador, " from which has been filched the musicset to Mrs Norton's beautiful lay, "Love not. " But on this night thespirit of the Mexican senorita was not with her song. Soon as it wasfinished, and her father had become otherwise engaged, she stepped outof the room, and, standing in the piazza, glanced through the trellisedlattice-work that screened it from the street. She evidently expectedsome one to come that way. And as her father had invited FlorenceKearney to supper, and she knew of it, it would look as if he were theexpected one. 

If so, she was disappointed for a time, though a visitor made hisappearance. The door bell, pulled from the outside, soon after summonedPepita, the Mexican servant, to the front, and presently a heavyfootfall on the wooden steps of the porch, told of a man stepping uponthe piazza. 

Meanwhile the young lady had returned within the room; but the nightbeing warm, the hinged casement stood ajar, and she could see through itthe man thus entering. An air of disappointment, almost chagrin, cameover her countenance, as the moonlight disclosed to her view the darkvisage of Carlos Santander. 

"_Pasa V. Adientro, Senor Don Carlos_, " said her father also recognisingtheir visitor through the casement; and in a moment after the Creolestepped into the room, Pepita placing a chair for him. 

"Though, " continued Don Ignacio, "we did not expect to have the honourof your company this evening, you are always welcome. "

Notwithstanding this polite speech, there was a certain constraint orhesitancy in the way it was spoken, that told of some insincerity. Itwas evident that on that night at least Don Carlos' host looked upon himin the light of an intruder. Evidence of the same was still more markedon the countenance, as in the behaviour of Don Ignacio's daughter. Instead of a smile to greet the new-comer, something like a frown satupon her beautiful brow, while every now and then a half-angry flashfrom her large liquid eyes, directed towards him, might have told him hewas aught but welcome. Clearly it was not for him she had several timesduring the same night passed out into the piazza and looked through itslattice-work. 

In truth, both father and daughter seemed disturbed by Santander'spresence, both expecting one whom, for different reasons, they did notdesire him to meet. If the Creole noticed their repugnance, he betrayedno sign of it. Don Carlos Santander, besides being physically handsome, was a man of rare intellectual strength, with many accomplishments, among others the power of concealing his thoughts under a mask ofimperturbable coolness. Still, on this night his demeanour wasdifferent from its wont. He looked flurried and excited, his eyesscintillating as with anger at some affront lately offered him, and thesting of which still rankled in his bosom. Don Ignacio noticed this, but said nothing. Indeed, he seemed to stand in awe of his guest, asthough under some mysterious influence. So was he, and here it may aswell be told. Santander, though by birth an American and a native ofNew Orleans, was of Mexican parentage, and still regarded himself as acitizen of the country of his ancestors. Only to his very intimates wasit known that he held a very high place in the confidence of Mexico'sDictator. But Don Ignacio knew this, and rested certain hopes upon it. More than once had Santander, for motives that will presently appear, hinted to him the possibility of a return to his own land, withrestoration of the estates he had forfeited. And the exiled patriot, wearied with long waiting, was at length willing to lend an ear toconditions, which, in other days, he might have spurned as humiliatingif not actually dishonourable. 

It was to talk of these Santander had now presented himself; and hishost suspecting it, gave the young lady a side look, as much as to say, "Leave the room, Luisita. "

She was but too glad to obey. Just then she preferred a turn upon thepiazza; and into this she silently glided, leaving her father alone withthe guest who had so inopportunely intruded. 

It is not necessary to repeat what passed between the two men. Theirbusiness was to bring to a conclusion a compact they had already talkedof, though only in general terms. It had reference to the restitutionof Don Ignacio's confiscated estates, with, of course, also the ban ofexile being removed from him. The price of all this, the hand of hisdaughter given to Carlos Santander. It was the Creole who proposedthese terms, and insisted upon them, even to the humiliation of himself. Madly in love with Luisa Valverde, he suspected that on her side therewas no reciprocity of the passion. But he would have her hand if hecould not her heart. 

On that night the bargain was not destined to reach a conclusion, theirconference being interrupted by the tread of booted feet, just ascendingthe front steps, and crossing the floor of the piazza. This followed byan exchange of salutations, in which the voice of Luisa Valverde washeard mingling with that of a man. 

Don Ignacio looked more troubled than surprised. He knew who was there. But when the words spoken outside reached the ears of Carlos Santander, first, in openly exchanged salutations and then whispers seeminglysecret and confidential, he could no longer keep his seat, but springingup, exclaimed--

"_Carrai_! It's that dog of an _Irlandes_!"

"Hish!" continued his host. "The Senor Florencio will hear you. "

"I wish him to hear me. I repeat the expression, and plainly in his ownnative tongue. I call him a cur of an Irishman. "

Outside was heard a short, sharp ejaculation, as of a man startled bysome sudden surprise. It was followed by an appealing speech, this inthe softer accents of a woman. Then the casement was drawn abruptlyopen, showing two faces outside. One, that of Florence Kearney, set inan angry frown; the other, Luisa Valverde's, pale and appealing. Anappeal idle and too late, as she herself saw. The air had becomecharged with the electricity of deadliest anger, and between the two mena collision was inevitable. 

Without waiting for a word of invitation, Kearney stepped over thecasement sill, and presented himself inside the room. Don Ignacio andthe Creole were by this also on their feet; and for a second or so thethree formed a strange triangular _tableau_--the Mexican with fear onhis face, that of Santander still wearing the expression of insult, aswhen he had exclaimed, "Cur of an Irishman!" Kearney confronting himwith a look of indignant defiance. 

There was an interval of silence, as that of calm preceding storm. Itwas broken by the guest latest arrived saying a few words to his host, but in calm, dignified tone; an apology for having unceremoniouslyentered the room. 

"No need to apologise, " promptly rejoined Don Ignacio. "You are here bymy invitation, Senor Don Florencio, and my humble home is honoured byyour presence. "

The Hidalgo blood, pure in Valverde's veins, had boiled up at seeing aman insulted under his roof. 

"Thanks, " said the young Irishman. 

"And now, sir, " he continued, turning to Santander and regarding himwith a look of recovered coolness, "having made my apology, I require_yours_. "

"For what?" asked Santander, counterfeiting ignorance. 

"For using language that belongs to the _bagnios_ of New Orleans, where, I doubt not, you spend most part of your time. "

Then, suddenly changing tone and expression of face, he added--

"Cur of a Creole! you must take back your words!"

"Never! It's not my habit to take, but to give; and to you I givethis!"

So saying, he stepped straight up to the Irishman, and spat in his face. 

Kearney's heart was on fire. His hand was already on the butt of hispistol; but, glancing behind, he saw that pale appealing face, and withan effort restrained himself, calmly saying to Santander--

"Calling yourself a gentleman, you will no doubt have a card andaddress. May I ask you to favour me with it, as to-morrow I shall haveoccasion to write to you? If a scoundrel such as you can boast ofhaving a friend, you may as well give him notice he will be needed. Your card, sir!"

"Take it!" hissed the Creole, flinging his card on the table. Thenglaring around, as if his glance would annihilate all, he clutched holdof his hat, bowed haughtily to Don Ignacio, looked daggers at hisdaughter, and strode out into the street. 

Though to all appearance defeated and humbled, he had in truth succeededin his design, one he had long planned and cherished to bring about, --aduel with Kearney, in which his antagonist should be challenger. Thiswould give him the choice of weapons, which, as he well knew, wouldensure to him both safety and success. Without the certainty of this, Carlos Santander would have been the last man to provoke such anencounter; for, with all his air of _bravache_, he was the veriest ofcowards. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

"TO THE SALUTE!"

The thick "swamp-fog" still hovered above the Crescent City, when acarriage, drawn by two horses, rolled out through one of its suburbs, and on along the Shell Road, and in the direction of Lake Pontchartrain. 

It was a close carriage--a hackney--with two men upon the driver's seat, and three inside. Of these last, one was Captain Florence Kearney, andanother Lieutenant Francis Crittenden, both officers of thefilibustering band, with _titles_ not two days old. Now on the wayneither to Texas nor Mexico, but to the shore of Lake Pontchartrain, where many an affair of honour has been settled by the spilling of muchblood. A stranger in New Orleans, and knowing scarce a soul, Kearneyhad bethought him of the young fellow who had been electedfirst-lieutenant, and asked him to act as his second. Crittenden, aKentuckian, being one of those who could not only stand fire, but _eat_it, if the occasion called, eagerly responded to the appeal; and theywere now _en route_ along the Shell Road to meet Carlos Santander andwhoever he might have with him. 

The third individual inside the carriage belonged to that profession, one of whose members usually makes the third in a duel--the doctor. Hewas a young man who, in the capacity of surgeon, had attached himself tothe band of filibusters. 

Besides the mahogany box balanced upon his thigh there was another lyingon the spare bit of cushion beside him, opposite to where Crittendensat. It was of a somewhat different shape; and no one who had ever seena case of duelling pistols could mistake it for aught else--for it wassuch. 

As it had been arranged that swords were to be the weapons, and a pairof these were seen in a corner of the carriage, what could they bewanting with pistols?

It was Kearney who put this question; now for the first time noticingwhat seemed to him a superfluous armament. It was asked of Crittenden, to whom the pistols belonged, as might have been learnt by looking athis name engraved on the indented silver plate. 

"Well, " answered the Kentuckian, "I'm no great swordsman myself. Iusually prefer pistols, and thought it might be as well to bring a pairalong. I didn't much like the look of your antagonist's friend, andit's got into my head that before leaving the ground I may havesomething to say to _him_ on my own account. So, if it come to that, Ishall take to the barkers. "

Kearney smiled, but said nothing, feeling satisfied that in case of anytreachery, he had the right sort of man for his second. 

He might have felt further secure, in a still other supporting party, who rode on the box beside the driver. This was a man carrying a longrifle, that stood with the barrel two feet above his shoulders, and thebutt rested between his heavily booted feet. 

It was Cris Rock, who had insisted on coming along, as he said, to seethat the fight was all "fair and square. " He too had conceived anunfavourable opinion of both the men to be met, from what he had seen ofthem at the _rendezvous_; for Santander's second had also been there. With the usual caution of one accustomed to fighting Indians, he alwayswent armed, usually with his long "pea" rifle. 

On reaching a spot of open ground alongside the road, and near the shoreof the lake, the carriage stopped. It was the place of the appointedmeeting, as arranged by the seconds on the preceding day. 

Though their antagonists had not yet arrived, Kearney and Crittenden gotout, leaving the young surgeon busied with his cutlery and bandageapparatus. 

"I hope you won't have to use them, doctor, " remarked Kearney, with alight laugh, as he sprang out of the carriage. "I don't want you topractise upon me till we've made conquest of Mexico. "

"And not then, I trust, " soberly responded the surgeon. 

Crittenden followed, carrying the swords; and the two, leaping acrossthe drain which separated the road from the duelling ground, took standunder a tree. 

Rock remained firm on the coach-box, still seated and silent. As thefield was full under his view, and within range of his rifle, he knewthat, like the doctor, he would be near enough if wanted. 

Ten minutes passed--most of the time in solemn silence, on the part ofthe principal, with some anxious thoughts. No matter how courageous aman may be--however skilled in weapons, or accustomed to the deadly useof them--he cannot, at such a crisis, help having a certain tremor ofthe heart, if not a misgiving of conscience. He has come there to kill, or be killed; and the thought of either should be sufficient to disturbmental equanimity. At such times, he who is not gifted with naturalcourage had needs have a good cause, and confidence in the weapon to beused. Florence Kearney possessed all three; and though it was his firstappearance in a duel, he had no fear for the result. Even the still, sombre scene, with the long grey moss hanging down from the dark cypresstrees, like the drapery of a hearse, failed to inspire him with dread. If, at times, a slight nervousness came over him, it was instantlydriven off by the thought of the insult he had received--and, perhapsalso, a little by the remembrance of those dark eyes he fancied wouldflash proudly if he triumphed, and weep bitterly were he to sufferdiscomfiture. Very different were his feelings now from those heexperienced less than forty-eight hours before, when he was on his wayto the house of Don Ignacio Valverde. That night, before leaving it, hewas good as sure he possessed the heart of Don Ignacio's daughter. Indeed, she had all but told him so; and was this not enough to nervehim for the encounter near at hand?

Very near now--close to commencing. The rumbling of wheels heardthrough the drooping festoonery of the trees, proclaimed that a secondcarriage was approaching along the Shell Road. It could only be thatcontaining the antagonists. And it was that. In less than ten minutesafter, it drew up on the causeway, about twenty paces to the rear of theone already arrived. Two men got out, who, although wrapped in cloaksand looking as large as giants through the thick mist, could berecognised as Carlos Santander and his second. There was a thirdindividual, who, like the young surgeon, remained by the carriage--nodoubt a doctor, too, --making the duelling party symmetrical andcomplete. 

Santander and his friend having pulled off their cloaks and tossed themback into the carriage, turned towards the wet ditch, and also leapedover it. 

The first performed the feat somewhat awkwardly, drooping down upon thefurther bank with a ponderous thud. He was a large, heavily built man--altogether unlike one possessing the activity necessary for a goodswordsman. 

His antagonist might have augured well from his apparent clumsiness, butfor what he had heard of him. For Carlos Santander, though having therepute of a swaggerer, with some suspicion of cowardice, had provedhimself a dangerous adversary by twice killing his man. His second--aFrench-Creole, called Duperon--enjoyed a similar reputation, he, too, having been several times engaged in affairs that resulted fatally. Atthis period New Orleans was emphatically the city of the _duello_--forthis speciality, perhaps the most noted in the world. 

As already said, Florence Kearney knew the sort of man he had to meet, and this being his own first appearance in a duelling field, he mightwell have been excused for feeling some anxiety as to the result. Itwas so slight, however, as not to betray itself, either in his looks orgestures. Confiding in his skill, gained by many a set-to with buttonedfoils, and supported, as he was, by the gallant young Kentuckian, heknew nothing that could be called fear. Instead, as his antagonistadvanced towards the spot where he was standing, and he looked at thehandsome, yet sinister face--his thoughts at the same time reverting toLuisa Valverde, and the insult upon him in her presence--his nerves, notat all unsteady, now became firm as steel. Indeed, the self-confident, almost jaunty air, with which his adversary came upon the ground, so farfrom shaking them--the effect, no doubt, intended--but braced them themore. 

When the new-comers had advanced a certain distance into the meadow, Crittenden, forsaking his stand under the tree, stepped out to meetthem, Kearney following a few paces behind. 

A sort of quadruple bow was the exchanged salutation; then theprincipals remained apart, the seconds drawing nigher to one another, and entering upon the required conference. 

Only a few words passed between them, as but few were required; theweapons, distance, and mode of giving the word, having all beenpre-arranged. 

There was no talk of apology--nor thought of it being either offered oraccepted. By their attitude, and in their looks, both the challengedand challenger showed a full, firm determination to fight. 

Duperon did not seem to care much one way or the other, and theKentuckian was not the sort to seek conciliation--with an insult such ashis captain had received calling for chastisement. 

After the preliminaries were passed over, the seconds again separated--each to attend upon his principal. 

The young Irishman took off his coat, and rolled back his shirt sleevesup to the elbow. Santander, on the other hand, who wore a red flannelshirt under his ample _sacque_, simply threw aside the latter, leavingthe shirt sleeves as they were, buttoned around the wrist. 

Everybody was now silent; the hackney-drivers on their boxes, thedoctors, the gigantic Texan, all looming large and spectral-like throughthe still lingering mist, while the streamers of Spanish moss hangingfrom the cypresses around were appropriate drapery for such a scene. 

In the midst of the death-like silence a voice broke in, coming from thetop of a tall cypress standing near. Strange and wild, it was enoughnot only to startle, but awe the stoutest heart. A shrill, continuedcachinnation, which, though human-like, could scarce be ascribed toaught human, save the laughter of a maniac. 

It frightened no one there, all knowing what it was--the cackling cry ofthe white-headed eagle. 

As it ended, but before its echoes had ceased reverberating among thetrees, another sound, equally awe-inspiring, woke the echoes of theforest further down. This, the _whoo-whoo-whooa_ of the great southernowl, seemingly a groan in answer to the eagle's laugh. 

In all countries, and throughout all ages, the hooting of the owl hasbeen superstitiously dreaded as ominous of death, and might havedismayed our duellists, had they been men of the common kind of courage. Neither were, or seemed not to be; for, as the lugubrious notes werestill echoing in their ears, they advanced, and with rapiers upraised, stood confronting each other, but one look on their faces, and onethought in their hearts--"_to kill_!"

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

A DUEL "TO THE DEATH. "

The duellists stood confronting one another, in the position of"salute, " both hands on high grasping their swords at hilt and point, the blades held horizontally. The second of each was in his place, onthe left hand of his principal, half a pace in advance. But a momentmore all were waiting for the word. The second of the challenger hadthe right to give it, and Crittenden was not the man to make delay. 

"_Engage_!" he cried out, in a firm clear voice, at the same timestepping half a pace forward, Duperon doing the same. The movement wasmade as a precaution against foul play; sometimes, though not alwaysintended. For in the excitement of such a moment, or under theimpatience of angry passion, one or other of the principals may closetoo quickly--to prevent which is the duty of the seconds. 

Quick, at the "engage, " both came to "guard" with a collision thatstruck sparks from the steel, proving the hot anger of the adversaries. Had they been cooler, they would have crossed swords quietly. But when, the instant after, they came to _tierce_, both appeared more collected, their blades for a while keeping in contact, and gliding around eachother as if they had been a single piece. 

For several minutes this cautious play continued, without furthersparks, or only such as appeared to scintillate from the eyes of thecombatants. Then came a counter-thrust, quickly followed by a counterparry, with no advantage to either. 

Long ere this, an observer acquainted with the weapons they werewielding, could have seen that of the two Kearney was the betterswordsman. In changing from _carte_ to _tierce_, or reversely, theyoung Irishman showed himself possessed of the power to keep his armstraight and do the work with his wrist, whilst the Creole kept bendinghis elbow, thus exposing his forearm to the adversary's point. It is arare accomplishment among swordsmen, but, when present, insuring almostcertain victory, that is, other circumstances being equal. 

In Kearney's case, it perhaps proved the saving of his life; since itseemed to be the sole object of his antagonist to thrust in upon him, heedless of his own guard. But the long, straight point, from shoulderfar outstretched, and never for an instant obliquely, foiled all hisattempts. 

After a few thrusts, Santander seemed surprised at his fruitlessefforts. Then over his face came a look more like fear. It was thefirst time in his duelling experience he had been so baffled, for it washis first encounter with an adversary who could keep a _straight arm_. 

But Florence Kearney had been taught _tierce_ as well as _carte_, andknew how to practise it. For a time he was prevented from trying it bythe other's impetuous and incessant thrusting, which kept himcontinuously at guard, but as the sword-play proceeded, he began todiscover the weak points of his antagonist, and, with a well-directedthrust, at length sent his blade through the Creole's outstretched arm, impaling it from wrist to elbow. 

An ill-suppressed cry of triumph escaped from the Kentuckian's lips, while with eyes directed towards the other second, he seemed to ask--

"Are you satisfied?"

Then the question was formally put. 

Duperon looked in the face of his principal, though without much show ofinterrogating him. It seemed as if he already divined what the answerwould be. 

"_A la mort_!" cried the Creole, with a deadly emphasis and bitterdetermination in his dark sinister eyes. 

"To the death be it!" was the response of the Irishman, not so calmly, and now for the first time showing anger. Nor strange he should, sincehe now knew he had crossed swords with a man determined on taking hislife. 

There was a second or two's pause, of which Santander availed himself, hastily whipping a handkerchief round his wounded arm--a permission notstrictly according to the code, but tacitly granted by his gallantantagonist. 

When the two again closed and came to guard, the seconds were no longerby their sides. At the words "_a la mort_" they had withdrawn--each tothe rear of his principal--the mode of action in a duel to the death. Their _role_ henceforth was simply to look on, with no right ofinterference, unless either of the principals should attempt foul play. This, however, could not well occur. By the phrase "_a la mort_" isconveyed a peculiar meaning, well-known to the Orleans duellist. Whenspoken, it is no longer a question of sword-skill, or who draws firstblood; but a challenge giving free licence to kill--whichever can. 

In the present affair it was followed by silence more profound and moreintense than ever, while the attention of the spectators, now includingthe seconds, seemed to redouble itself. 

The only sound heard was a whistling of wings. The fog had driftedaway, and several large birds were seen circling in the air above, looking down with stretched necks, as if they, too, felt interested inthe spectacle passing underneath. No doubt they did; for they werevultures, and could see--whether or not they scented it--that blood wasbeing spilled. 

Once more, also, from the tree tops came the mocking laughter of theeagle; and out of the depths, through long, shadowy arcades, themournful hootings of the great white owl--fit music for such fellstrife. 

Disregarding these ominous sounds--each seeming a death-warning initself--the combatants had once more closed, again and again crossingsword-blades with a clash that frightened owl, eagle, and vulture, foran instant causing them to withhold their vocal accompaniment. 

Though now on both sides the contest was carried on with increasedanger, there was not much outward sign of it. On neither any rashsword-play. If they had lost temper they yet had control over theirweapons; and their guards and points, though perhaps more rapidlyexchanged, displayed as much skill as ever. 

Again Kearney felt surprised at the repeated thrusts of his antagonist, which kept him all the time on the defensive, while Santander appearedequally astonished and discomfited by that far-reaching arm, straight asa yardstick, with elbow never bent. Could the Creole have but added sixinches to his rapier blade, in less than ten seconds the young Irishmanwould have had nearly so much of it passed between his ribs. 

Twice its point touched, slightly scratching the skin upon his breast, and drawing blood. 

For quite twenty minutes the sanguinary strife continued without anymarked advantage to either. It was a spectacle somewhat painful tobehold, the combatants themselves being a sight to look upon. Kearney'sshirt of finest white linen showed like a butcher's; his sleevesencrimsoned; his hands, too, grasping his rapier hilt, the same--notwith his own blood, but that of his adversary, which had run back alongthe blade; his face was spotted by the drops dashed over it from thewhirling wands of steel. 

Gory, too, was the face of Santander; but gashed as well. Bendingforward to put in a point, the Creole had given his antagonist a chance, resulting to himself in a punctured cheek, the scar of which would staythere for life. 

It was this brought the combat to an end; or, at all events, to itsconcluding stroke. Santander, vain of his personal appearance, onfeeling his cheek laid open, suddenly lost command of himself, and witha fierce oath rushed at his adversary, regardless of the consequences. 

He succeeded in making a thrust, though not the one he intended. Forhaving aimed at Kearney's heart, missing it, his blade passed throughthe buckle of the young Irishman's braces, where in an instant it wasentangled. 

Only for half a second; but this was all the skilled swordsman required. Now, first since the fight began, his elbow was seen to bend. This toobtain room for a thrust, which was sent, to all appearance, home to hisadversary's heart. 

Every one on the ground expected to see Santander fall; for by the forceof the blow and direction Kearney's blade should have passed through hisbody, splitting the heart in twain. Instead, the point did not appearto penetrate even an inch! As it touched, there came a sound like thechinking of coin in a purse, with simultaneously the snap of a breakingblade, and the young Irishman was seen standing as in a trance ofastonishment, in his hand but the half of a sword, the other halfgleaming amongst the grass at his feet. 

It seemed a mischance, fatal to Florence Kearney, and only the veriestdastard would have taken advantage of it. But this Santander was, andonce more drawing back, and bringing his blade to _tierce_, he wasrushing on his now defenceless antagonist, when Crittenden called "Foulplay!" at the same time springing forward to prevent it. 

His interference, however, would have been too late, and in anotherinstant the young Irishman would have been stretched lifeless along thesward, but for a second individual who had watched the foul play--onewho had been suspecting it all along. The sword of Santander seenflying off, as if struck out of his grasp, and his arm dropping by hisside, with blood pouring from the tips of his fingers, were all nearlysimultaneous incidents, as also the crack of a rifle and a cloud of bluesmoke suddenly spurting up over one of the carriages, andhalf-concealing the colossal figure of Cris Rock, still seated on thebox. Out of that cloud came a cry in the enraged voice of the Texan, with words which made all plain--

"Ye darned Creole cuss! Take that for a treetur an' a cowart! Stripthe skunk! He's got sumthin' steely under his shirt; I heerd the chinko' it. "

Saying which he bounded down from the box, sprang over the water-ditch, and rushed on towards the spot occupied by the combatants. 

In a dozen strides he was in their midst, and before either of the twoseconds, equally astonished, could interfere, he had caught Santander bythe throat, and tore open the breast of his shirt!

Underneath was then seen another shirt, not flannel, nor yet linen orcotton, but link-and-chain steel!

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

A DISGRACED DUELLIST. 

Impossible to describe the scene which followed, or the expression uponthe faces of those men who stood beside Santander. The Texan, strong ashe was big, still kept hold of him, though now at arm's length; in hisgrasp retaining the grown man with as much apparent ease as though itwere but a child. And there, sure enough, under the torn flannel shirt, all could see a doublet of chain armour, impenetrable to sword's pointas plate of solid steel. 

Explanation this of why Carlos Santander was so ready to take the fieldin a duel, and had twice left his antagonist lifeless upon it. Itexplained also why, when leaping across the water-ditch, he had droppedso heavily upon the farther bank. Weighted as he was, no wonder. 

By this time the two doctors, with the pair of hackney-drivers, seeingthat something had turned up out of the common course, parting from thecarriages, had also come upon the ground; the jarveys, in sympathy withCris Rock, crying, "Shame!" In the Crescent City even a cabman hassomething of chivalry in his nature--the surroundings teach and inviteit--and now the detected scoundrel seemed without a single friend. Forhe--hitherto acting as such, seeing the imposture, which had been alikepractised on himself, stepped up to his principal, and looking himscornfully in the face, hissed out the word "_Lache_!"

Then turning to Kearney and Crittenden he added--

"Let that be my apology to you, gentlemen. If you're not satisfied withit, I'm willing and ready to take his place--with either of you. "

"It's perfectly satisfactory, monsieur, " frankly responded theKentuckian, "so far as I'm concerned. And I think I may say as much forCaptain Kearney. "

"Indeed, yes, " assented the Irishman, adding: "We absolve you, sir, fromall blame. It's evident you knew nothing of that shining panoply tillnow;" as he spoke, pointing to the steel shirt. 

The French-Creole haughtily, but courteously, bowed thanks. Then, facing once more to Santander, and repeating the "_Lache_" strodesilently away from the ground. 

They had all mistaken the character of the individual, who, despite asomewhat forbidding face, was evidently a man of honour, as he hadproved himself. 

"What d'ye weesh me to do wi' him?" interrogated the Texan, stillkeeping Santander in firm clutch. "Shed we shoot him or hang him?"

"Hang!" simultaneously shouted the two hackney-drivers, who seemed asbitter against the disgraced duellist as if he had "bilked" them of afare. 

"So I say, too, " solemnly pronounced the Texan; "shootin's too good forthe like o' him; a man capable o' sech a cowardly, murderous trickdesarves to die the death o' a dog. "

Then, with an interrogating look at Crittenden, he added: "Which is't tobe, lootenant?"

"Neither, Cris, " answered the Kentuckian. "If I mistake not, the_gentleman_ has had enough punishment without either. If he's got somuch as a spark of shame or conscience--"

"Conshence!" exclaimed Rock, interrupting. "Sech a skunk don't know themeanin' o' the word. Darn ye!" he continued, turning upon his prisoner, and shaking him till the links in the steel shirt chinked, "I feel as ifI ked drive the blade o' my bowie inter ye through them steel fixin'san' all. "

And, drawing his knife from its sheath, he brandished it in a menacingmanner. 

"Don't, Rock! Please don't!" interposed the Kentuckian, Kearney joiningin the entreaty. "He's not worth anger, much less revenge. So let himgo. "

"You're right thar, lootenant, " rejoined Rock. "He ain't worth eyther, that's the truth. An' 'twould only be puttin' pisen on the blade o' myknife to smear it wi' his black blood. F'r all, I ain't a-gwine to lethim off so easy's all that, unless you an' the captain insists on it. After the warmish work he's had, an' the sweat he's put himself in bythe wearin' o' two shirts at a time, I guess he won't be any the worseof a sprinkling o' cold water. So here goes to gie it him. "

Saying which, he strode off towards the ditch, half-dragging, half-carrying Santander along with him. 

The cowed and craven creature neither made resistance, nor dared. Hadhe done so, the upshot was obvious. For the Texan's blade, still bared, was shining before his eyes, and he knew that any attempt on his part, either to oppose the latter's intention or escape, would result inhaving it buried between, his ribs. So, silently, sullenly, he allowedhimself to be taken along, not as a lamb to the slaughter, but a wolf, or rather dog, about to be chastised for some malfeasance. 

In an instant after, the chastisement was administered by the Texanlaying hold of him with both hands, lifting him from off his feet, andthen dropping him down into the water-ditch, where, weighted with thesteel shirt, he fell with a dead, heavy plunge, going at once to thebottom. 

"That's less than your desarvin's, " said the Texan, on thus deliveringhis charge. "An' if it had been left to Cris Rock 'twould 'a been _up_, 'stead o' _down_, he'd 'a sent ye. If iver man desarved hangin', you'rethe model o' him. Ha--ha--ha! Look at the skunk now!"

The last words, with the laugh preceding them, were elicited by theludicrous appearance which Santander presented. He had come to thesurface again, and, with some difficulty, owing to the encumbrance ofhis under-shirt, clambered out upon the bank. But not as when he wentunder. Instead, with what appeared a green cloak over his shoulders, the scum of the stagnant water long collecting undisturbed. Thehackney-driver--there was but one now, the other taken off by Duperon, who had hired him, their doctor too--joined with Rock in his laughter, while Kearney, Crittenden, and their own surgeon could not help unitingin the chorus. Never had tragic hero suffered a more comicaldiscomfiture. 

He was now permitted to withdraw from the scene of it, a permission ofwhich he availed himself without further delay; first retreating forsome distance along the Shell Road, as one wandering and distraught;then, as if seized by a sudden thought, diving into the timbered swampalongside, and there disappearing. 

Soon after the carriage containing the victorious party rattled past;they inside it scarce casting a look to see what had become ofSantander. He was nothing to them now, at best only a thing to be amatter of ludicrous remembrance. Nor long remained he in theirthoughts; these now reverting to Texas, and their necessity forhastening back to the Crescent City, to make start for "The Land of theLone Star. "

CHAPTER NINE. 

A SPARTAN BAND. 

In ancient days Sparta had its Thermopylae, while in those of moderndate Sicily saw a thousand men in scarlet shirts make landing upon hercoast, and conquer a kingdom defended by a military force twenty orthirty times their number!

But deeds of heroism are not alone confined to the history of the OldWorld. That of the New presents us with many pages of a similar kind, and Texas can tell of achievements not surpassed, either in valour orchivalry, by any upon record. Such was the battle of San Jacinto, wherethe Texans were victorious, though overmatched in the proportion of tento one: such the defence of Fort Alamo, when the brave Colonel Crockett, now world-known, surrendered up his life, alongside the equally brave"Jim Bowie, " he who gave his name to the knife which on that occasion heso efficiently wielded--after a protracted and terrible struggledropping dead upon a heap of foes who had felt its sharp point and keenedge. 

Among the deeds of great renown done by the defenders of the youngRepublic, none may take higher rank, since none is entitled to it, thanthat known as the battle of Mier. Though they there lost the day--adefeat due to the incapacity of an ill-chosen leader--they won gloryeternal. Every man of them who fell had first killed his foeman--somehalf a score--while of those who survived there was not one so craven asto cry "Quarter!" The white flag went not up till they were overwhelmedand overpowered by sheer disparity of numbers. 

It was a fight at first with rifles and musketry at long range; thencloser as the hostile host came crowding in upon them; the bullets sentthrough windows and loopholed walls--some from the flat parapetted roofsof the houses--till at length it became a conflict hand to hand withknife, sword, and pistol, or guns clubbed--being empty, with no time toreload them--many a Texan braining one antagonist with the butt of hispiece after having sent its bullet through the body of another!

Vain all! Brute strength, represented by superior numbers, triumphedover warlike prowess, backed by indomitable courage; and the "MierExpedition, " from which Texas had expected so much, ended disastrously, though ingloriously; those who survived being made prisoners, andcarried off to the capital of Mexico. 

Of the Volunteer Corps which composed this ill-fated expedition--andthey were indeed all volunteers--none gave better account of itself thanthat organised in Poydras Street, New Orleans, and among its individualmembers no man behaved better than he whom they had chosen as theirleader. Florence Kearney had justified their choice, and proved true tothe trust, as all who outlived that fatal day ever after admitted. Fortunately, he himself was among the survivors; by a like good luck, sotoo were his first-lieutenant Crittenden and Cris Rock. As at"Fanning's Massacre, " so at Mier the gigantic Texan performed prodigiesof valour, laying around him, and slaying on all sides, till at lengthwounded and disabled, like a lion beset by a _chevaux-de-frise_ ofCaffre assegais, he was compelled to submit. Fighting side by side, with the man he had first taken a fancy to on the Levee of New Orleans, and afterwards became instrumental in making captain of his corps--finding this man to be what he had conjecturally believed and pronouncedhim--of the "true grit"--Cris Rock now felt for Florence Kearney almostthe affection of a father, combined with the grand respect which onegallant soul is ever ready to pay another. Devotion, too, so strong andreal, that had the young Irishman called upon him for the greatest riskof his life, in any good or honourable cause, he would have responded tothe call without a moment's hesitancy or murmur. Nay, more than risk;he would have laid it down, absolutely, to save that of his cherishedleader. 

Proof of this was, in point of fact, afforded but a short while after. Any one acquainted with Texan history will remember how the Mierprisoners, while being taken to the city of Mexico, rose upon theirguards, and mastering them, made their escape to the mountains around. This occurred at the little town of El Salado, and was caused by theterrible sufferings the captives had endured upon the march, added tomany insults and cruelties, to which they had been subjected, not onlyby the Mexican soldiers, but the officers having them in charge. Thesehad grown altogether insupportable, at El Salado reaching the climax. 

It brought about the crisis for a long time accumulating, and which theTexans anticipated. For they had, at every opportunity afforded them, talked over and perfected a plan of escape. 

By early daybreak on a certain morning, as their guards were carelesslylounging about an idle hour before continuing that toilsome journey, asignal shout was heard. 

"Now, boys, up and at them!" were the words, with some others following, which all well understood--almost a repetition of the famous order ofWellington at Waterloo. And as promptly obeyed; for on hearing it theTexans rushed at the soldiers of the escort, wrenched from them theirweapons, and with those fought their way through the hastily-formedranks of the enemy out into the open country. 

So far they had succeeded, though in the end, for most of them, itproved a short and sad respite. Pursued by an overwhelming force--freshtroops drawn from the garrisons in the neighbourhood, added to the lateescort so shamefully discomfited, and smarting under the humiliation anddefeat--the pursuit carrying them through a country to which they wereentire strangers--a district almost uninhabited, without roads, and, worse still, without water, --not strange that all, or nearly all, ofthem were recaptured, and carried back to El Salado. 

Then ensued a scene worthy of being enacted by savages, for littlebetter than savages were those in whose custody they were. Exultingfiend-like over their recapture, at first the word went round that allwere to be executed; this being the general wish of their captors. Nodoubt the deed of wholesale vengeance would have been done, and ourhero, Florence Kearney, with his companion, Cris Rock, never more havebeen heard of; in other words, the novel of the "Free Lances" would nothave been written. But among those reckless avengers there were somewho knew better than to advocate indiscriminate slaughter. It was "afar cry to Loch Awe, " all knew; the Highland loch typified not by Texas, but the United States. But the more knowing ones always knew that, however far, the cry might be heard, and then what the result? No mereband of Texan filibusters, ill-organised, and but poorly equipped, tocome across the Rio Grande; instead a well-disciplined army in numbersenough for sure retaliation, bearing the banner of the "Stars andStripes. "

In fine, a more merciful course was determined upon; only _decimation_of the prisoners--every tenth man to suffer death. 

There was no word about degrees in their guiltiness--all were alike inthis respect--and the fate of each was to be dependent on pure blindchance. 

When the retaken escapadoes had been brought back to El Salado, theywere drawn up in line of single file, and carefully counted. A helmet, snatched from the head of one of the Dragoons guarding them, was madeuse of as a ballot-box. Into this were thrown a number of what we callFrench or kidney beans--the _pijoles_ of Mexico--in count correspondingto that of the devoted victims. Of these _pijoles_ there are severalvarieties, distinguishable chiefly by their colour. Two sorts arecommon, the black and white; and these were chosen to serve as ticketsin that dread lottery of life and death. For every nine white beansthere was a black one; he who drew black would be shot within the hour!

Into the hard soldier's head-piece, appropriate for such purpose, thebeans were dropped, and the drawing done as designed. I, who now writeof it long after, can truthfully affirm that never in the history ofhuman kind has there been a grander exhibition of man's courage than wasthat day given at El Salado. The men who exemplified it were of noparticular nation. As a matter of course, the main body of the Texanswere of American birth, but among them were also Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, French, and Germans--even some who spoke Spanish, the languageof their captors, now their judges, and about to become theirexecutioners. But when that helmet of horrible contents was carriedround, and held before each, not one showed the slightest fear orhesitancy to plunge his hand into it, though knowing that what theyshould bring up between their fingers might be the sealing of theirfate. Many laughed and made laughter among their comrades, by somequaint _jeu d'esprit_. One reckless fellow--no other than Cris Rock--ashe fearlessly rattled the beans about, cried aloud--

"Wal, boys, I guess it's the tallest gamblin' I've ever took a hand at. But this child ain't afeerd. I was born to good luck, an' am not likelyto go under--jest yet. "

The event justified his confidence, as he drew _blank_--not _black_, thefatal colour. 

It was now Kearney's turn to undergo the dread ordeal; and, withoutflinching, he was about to insert his hand into the helmet, when theTexan, seizing hold of it, stayed him. 

"No, Cap!" he exclaimed; "I'm wownded, putty bad, as ye see, "--(he hadreceived a lance thrust in their struggle with the Guards)--"an' mayentgit over it. Thurfor, your life's worth more'n mine. Besides, myluck's good jest now. So let me take your chance. That's allowed, asthese skunks hev sayed themselves. "

So it was--a declaration having been made by the officer who presidedover the drawing--from humane motives as pretended--that any one whocould find a substitute might himself stand clear. A grim mockery itseemed; and yet it was not so; since, besides Cris Rock, more than onecourageous fellow proposed the same to comrade and friend--in the caseof two brothers the elder one insisting upon it. 

Though fully, fervently appreciating the generous offer, FlorenceKearney was not the man to avail himself of it. 

"Thanks, brave comrade!" he said, with warmth, detaching his hand fromthe Texan's grasp, and thrusting it into the helmet. "What's left ofyour life yet is worth more than all mine; and my luck may be good asyours--we'll see. "

It proved so, a murmur of satisfaction running along the line as theysaw his hand drawn out with a white bear between the fingers. 

"Thanks to the Almighty!" joyously shouted the Texan, as he made out thecolour. "Both o' us clar o' that scrape, by Job! An' as there ain't noneed for me dyin' yet, I mean to live it out, an' git well agin. "

And get well he did, despite the long after march, with all itsexposures and fatigues; his health and strength being completelyrestored as he stepped over the threshold, entering within hisprison-cell in the city of Mexico. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

THE ACORDADA. 

One of the most noted "lions" in the City of Mexico is the prison calledLa Acordada. Few strangers visit the Mexican capital without alsopaying a visit to this celebrated penal establishment, and few who enterits gloomy portals issue forth from them without having seen somethingto sadden the heart, and be ever afterwards remembered with repugnanceand pain. 

There is, perhaps, no prison in the universal world where one maywitness so many, and such a variety of criminals; since there is nocrime known to the calendar that has not been committed by some one ofthe gaol-birds of the Acordada. 

Its cells, or cloisters--for the building was once a monastery--areusually well filled with thieves, forgers, ravishers, highway robbers, and a fair admixture of murderers; none appearing cowed or repentant, but boldly brazening it out, and even boasting of their deeds ofvillainy, fierce and strong as when doing them, save the disabled ones, who suffer from wounds or some loathsome disease. 

Nor is all their criminal action suspended inside the prison walls. Itis carried on within their cells, and still more frequently in thecourtyards of the ancient convent, where they are permitted to meet incommon and spend a considerable portion of their time. Here they may beseen in groups, most of them ragged and greasy, squatted on the flags, card-playing--and cheating when they can--now and then quarrelling, butalways talking loud and cursing. 

Into the midst of this mass of degraded humanity were thrust two of theunfortunate prisoners, taken at the battle of Mier--the two with whomour tale has alone to do. 

For reasons that need not be told, most of the captives were exceptedfrom this degradation; the main body of them being carried on throughthe city to the pleasant suburban village of Tacubaya. 

But Florence Kearney and Cris Rock were not among the exceptions; bothhaving been consigned to the horrid pandemonium we have painted. 

It was some consolation to them that they were allowed to share the samecell, though they would have liked it better could they have had thisall to themselves. As it was, they had not; two individuals beingbestowed in it along with them. 

It was an apartment of but limited dimensions--about eight feet by ten--the cloister of some ancient monk, who, no doubt, led a jolly enoughlife of it there, or, if not there, in the refectory outside, in thedays when the Acordada was a pleasant place of residence for himself andhis cowled companions. For his monastery, as "Bolton Abbey in the oldentime, " saw many a scene of good cheer, its inmates being no anchorites. 

Beside the Texan prisoners, its other occupants now were men of Mexicanbirth. One of them, under more favourable circumstances, would havepresented a fine appearance. Even in his prison garb, somewhat raggedand squalid, he looked the gentleman and something more. For there wasthat in his air and physiognomy, which proclaimed him no common man. Captivity may hold and make more fierce, but cannot degrade, the lion. And just as a lion in its cage seemed this man in a cell of theAcordada. His face was of the rotund type, bold in its expression, yetwith something of gentle humanity, seen when searched for, in theprofound depths of a dark penetrating eye. His complexion was a clearolive, such as is common to Mexicans of pure Spanish descent, theprogeny of the Conquistadors; his beard and moustache coal-black, asalso the thick mass of hair that, bushing out and down over his ears, half concealed them. 

Cris Rock "cottoned" to this man on sight. Nor liked him much the lesswhen told he had been a robber! Cris supposed that in Mexico a robbermay sometimes be an honest man, or at all events, have taken to the roadthrough some supposed wrong--personal or political. Freebooting is lessa crime, or at all events, more easy of extenuation in a country whosechief magistrate himself is a freebooter; and such, at this moment, neither more nor less, was the chief magistrate of Mexico, Don AntonioLopez de Santa Anna. 

Beyond the fact, or it might be only suspicion, that Ruperto Rivas was arobber, little seemed to be known of him among the inmates of theAcordada. He had been there only a short while, and took no part intheir vulgar, commonplace ways of killing time; instead, staying withinhis cell. His name had, however, leaked out, and this brought up in theminds of some of his fellow-prisoners certain reminiscences pointing tohim as one of the road fraternity; no common one either, but the chiefof a band of "salteadores. "

Altogether different was the fourth personage entitled to a share in thecell appropriated to Kearney and Cris Rock; unlike the reputed robber asthe Satyr to Hyperion. In short, a contrast of the completest kind, both physically and mentally. No two beings claiming to be of humankind could have presented a greater dissimilarity--being very types ofthe extreme. Ruperto Rivas, despite the shabby habiliments in which thegaol authorities had arrayed him, looked all dignity and grandeur, whileEl Zorillo--the little fox, as his prison companions called him--was anepitomised impersonation of wickedness and meanness; not only crooked insoul, but in body--being in point of fact an _enano_ or dwarf-hunchback. 

Previous to the arrival of those who were henceforth to share theircell, this ill-assorted pair had been kept chained together, as much byway of punishment as to prevent escape. But now, the gaol-governor, asif struck by a comical idea, directed them to be separated, and thedwarf linked to the Texan Colossus--thus presenting a yet more ludicrouscontrast of couples--while the ex-captain of the filibusters and thereputed robber were consigned to the same chain. 

Of the new occupants of the cloister, Cris Rock was the more disgustedwith the situation. His heart was large enough to feel sympathy forhumanity in any shape, and he would have pitied his deformedfellow-prisoner, but for a deformity of the latter worse than anyphysical ugliness; for the Texan soon learnt that the hideous creature, whose couch as well as chain he was forced to share, had committedcrimes of the most atrocious nature, among the rest murder! It was, infact, for this last that he was now in the Acordada--a cowardly murder, too--a case of poisoning. That he still lived was due to the proofs notbeing legally satisfactory, though no one doubted of his havingperpetrated the crime. At first contact with this wretch the Texan hadrecoiled in horror, without knowing aught of his past. There was thatin his face which spoke a history of dark deeds. But when this becameknown to the new denizens of the cell, the proximity of such a monsterwas positively revolting to them. 

Vengeance itself could not have devised a more effective mode oftorture. Cris Rock groaned under it, now and then grinding his teethand stamping his feet, as if he could have trodden the mis-shapen thinginto a still more shapeless mass under the heels of his heavy boots. 

For the first two days of their imprisonment in the Acordada neither ofthe Texans could understand why they were being thus punished--as itwere to satisfy some personal spite. None of the other Mier prisoners, of whom several had been brought to the same gaol, were submitted to alike degradation. True, these were also chained two and two; but to oneanother, and not to Mexican criminals. Why, then, had they alone beenmade an exception? For their lives neither could tell or guess, thoughthey gave way to every kind of conjecture. It was true enough that CrisRock had been one of the ringleaders in the rising at El Salado, whilethe young Irishman had also taken a prominent part in that affair. Still, there were others now in the Acordada who had done the same, receiving treatment altogether different. The attack upon the Guards, therefore, could scarce be the cause of what they were called upon tosuffer now; for besides the humiliation of being chained to criminals, they were otherwise severely dealt with. The food set before them wasof the coarsest, with a scarcity of it; and more than once the gaoler, whose duty it was to look after them, made mockery of their irksomesituation, jesting on the grotesque companionship of the dwarf andgiant. As the gaol-governor had shown, on his first having themconveyed to their cells, signs of a special hostility, so did theirdaily attendant. But for what reason neither Florence Kearney nor hisfaithful comrade could divine. 

They learnt it at length--on the third day after their entrance withinthe prison. All was explained by the door of their cell being drawnopen, exposing to view the face and figure of a man well-known to them. And from both something like a cry escaped, as they saw standingwithout, by the side of the gaol-governor--Carlos Santander. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

A COLONEL IN FULL FEATHER. 

Yes; outside the door of their cell was Carlos Santander. And in fullwar panoply, wearing a magnificent uniform, with a glittering sword byhis side, and on his head a cocked hat, surmounted by a _panache_ ofwhite ostrich feathers!

To explain his presence there, and in such guise, it is necessary toreturn upon time and state some particulars of this man's life not yetbefore the reader. As already said, he was a native of New Orleans, butof Mexican parentage, and regarding himself as a Mexican citizen. Something more than a mere citizen, indeed; as, previous to hisencounter with Florence Kearney, he had been for a time resident inMexico, holding some sort of appointment under that Government, or fromthe Dictator himself--Santa Anna. What he was doing in New Orleans noone exactly knew, though among his intimates there was an impressionthat he still served his Mexican master, in the capacity of a secretagent--a sort of _procurador_, or spy. Nor did this suspicion do himwrong: for he was drawing pay from Santa Anna, and doing work for him inthe States, which could scarce be dignified with the name of diplomacy. Proof of its vile character is afforded by the action he took among thevolunteers in Poydras Street. His presenting himself at theirrendezvous, getting enrolled in the corps, and offering as a candidatefor the captaincy, were all done under instructions, and with a designwhich, for wickedness and cold-blooded atrocity, was worthy of Satanhimself. Had he succeeded in becoming the leader of this ill-fatedband, for them the upshot might have been no worse; though it would nothave been better; since it was his intention to betray them to the enemyat the first opportunity that should offer. Thwarted in this intent, knowing he could no longer show his face among the filibusters, eventhough it were but as a private in the ranks; fearing, furthermore, theshame that awaited him in New Orleans soon as the affair of the steelshirt should get bruited about, he had hastily decamped from that place, and, as we now know, once more made his way to Mexico. 

Luckily for him, the shirt, or rather under-shirt, business leaked notout; at least not to reach the ears of any one in the Mexican capital. 

Nor, indeed, was it ever much known in New Orleans. His second, Duperon, for his own sake not desiring to make it public, had refrainedfrom speaking of it; and their doctor, a close little Frenchman, controlled by Duperon, remained equally reticent; while all those on theother side--Kearney, Crittenden, Rock and the surgeon--had takendeparture for Texas on the very day of the duel; from that time forwardhaving "other fish to fry. "

But there were still the two hackney-drivers, who, no doubt, had theystayed in the Crescent City in pursuit of their daily avocation, wouldhave given notoriety to an occurrence curious as it was scandalous. 

It chanced, however, that both the jarveys were Irishmen; and suddenlysmitten with warlike aspirations--either from witnessing the spectacleof the duel, or the gallant behaviour of their young countryman--on thatsame day dropped the ribbons, and, taking to a musket instead, woreamong the men who composed the ill-started expedition which came togrief on the Rio Grande. 

So, for the time, Carlos Santander had escaped the brand of infamy dueto his dastardly act. 

His reappearance on the scene in such grand garb needs littleexplanation. A fairly brave and skilled soldier, a vainer man thanGeneral Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna never wore sword, and one of hisfoibles was to see himself surrounded by a glittering escort. Theofficers of his staff were very peacocks in their gaudy adornment, andas a rale, the best-looking of them were his first favourites. Santander, on returning to Mexico, was appointed one of hisaides-de-camp, and being just the sort--a showy fellow--soon rose torank; so that the defeated candidate for a captaincy of TexanVolunteers, was now a colonel in the Mexican Army, on the personal staffof its Commander-in-Chief. 

Had Florence Kearney and Cris Rock but known they were to meet this manin Mexico--could they have anticipated seeing him, as he was now, at thedoor of their prison-cell--their hearts would have been fainter as theytoiled along the weary way, and perchance in that lottery of life anddeath they might have little cared whether they drew black or white. 

At the sight of him there rose up all at once in their recollection thatscene upon the Shell Road; the Texan vividly recalling how he had duckedthe caitiff in the ditch, as how he looked after crawling out upon thebank--mud bedraggled and covered with the viscous scum, --in strangecontrast to his splendid appearance now! And Kearney well rememberedthe same, noting in addition a scar on Santander's cheek--he had himselfgiven--which the latter vainly sought to conceal beneath whiskers sincepermitted to grow their full length and breadth. 

These remembrances were enough to make the heart of the captive Irishmanbeat quick, if it did not quail; while that of the Texan had like reasonto throb apprehensively. 

Nor could they draw any comfort from the expression on Santander's face. Instead, they but read there what they might well believe to be theirdeath sentence. The man was smiling, but it was the smile of Lucifer intriumph--mocking, malignant, seeming to say, without spoken word but, for all that, emphatically and with determination--

"I have you in my power, and verily you shall feel my vengeance. "

They could tell it was no accident had brought him thither no duty ofprison inspection--but the fiendish purpose to flaunt his grandeurbefore their eyes, and gloat over the misery he knew it would causethem. And his presence explained what had hitherto been a puzzle tothem--why they two were being made an exception among their captivecomrades, and thrown into such strange fellowship. It must have been tohumiliate them; as, indeed, they could now tell by a certain speechwhich the gaol-governor addressed to Santander, as the cell door turnedback upon its hinges. 

"There they are, Senor Colonel! As you see, I've had them coupledaccording to orders. What a well-matched pair!" he added, ironically, as his eyes fell upon Cris Rock and the hunchback. "_Ay Dios_! It's asight to draw laughter from the most sober-sided recluse that everlodged within these walls. Ha! ha! ha!"

It drew this from Carlos Santander; who, relishing the jest, joined inthe "ha! ha!" till the old convent rang with their coarse ribaldry. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

"DO YOUR DARNDEST. "

During all this time--only a few seconds it was--the four men within thecell preserved silence; the dwarf, as the door alone was drawn open, having said to the gaol-governor: "_Buenas Dias Excellenza_! you'recoming to set us free, aren't you?"

A mere bit of jocular bravado; for, as might be supposed, the deformedwretch could have little hope of deliverance, save by the gallows, towhich he had actually been condemned. A creature of indomitable pluck, however, this had not so far frightened him as to hinder jesting--ahabit to which he was greatly given. Besides, he did not believe he wasgoing to the _garota_. Murderer though he was, he might expect pardon, could he only find money sufficient to pay the price, and satisfy theconscience of those who had him in keeping. 

His question was neither answered nor himself taken notice of; theattention of those outside being now directed upon the other occupantsof the cell. Of these only two had their faces so that they could beseen. The third, who was the reputed robber, kept his turned towardsthe wall, the opened door being behind his back; and this attitude hepreserved, not being called upon to change it till Santander had closedhis conversation with Cris Rock and Kearney. He had opened it in ajaunty, jeering tone, saying--

"Well, my brave Filibusters! Is this where you are? _Caspita_! In aqueer place and queer company, too! Not so nice, Senor Don Florencio, as that you used to keep in the Crescent City. And you, my TexanColossus! I take it you don't find the atmosphere of the Acordada quiteso pleasant as the fresh breezes of prairie-land, eh?"

He paused, as if to note the effect of his irony; then continued--

"So this is the ending of the grand Mier Expedition, with the furtherinvasion of Mexico! Well, you've found your way to its capital, anyhow, if you haven't fought it. And now you're here, what do you expect, pray?"

"Not much o' good from sich a scoundrel as you, " responded Rock, in atone of reckless defiance. 

"What! No good from me! An old acquaintance--friend, I ought rather tocall myself, after the little scene that passed between us on the shoresof Pontchartrain. Come, gentlemen! Being here among strangers youshould think yourselves fortunate in finding an old comrade of thefilibustering band; one owing you so many obligations. Ah! well; havingthe opportunity now, I shall try my best to wipe out the indebtedness. "

"You kin do your darndest, " rejoined Rock in the same sullen tone. "Wedon't look for marcy at your hands nosomever. It ain't in ye; an if 'twar, Cris Rock 'ud scorn to claim it. So ye may do yur crowing on adunghill, whar there be cocks like to be scared at it. Thar ain't neeryone o' that sort hyar. "

Santander was taken aback by this unlooked-for rebuff. He had come tothe Acordada to indulge in the luxury of a little vapouring over hisfallen foes, whom he knew to be there, having been informed of all thathad befallen them from Mier up to Mexico. He expected to find themcowed, and eager to crave life from him; which he would no more havegranted than to a brace of dogs that had bitten him. But so far fromshowing any fear, both prisoners looked a little defiant; the Texan withthe air of a caged wolf seeming ready to tear him if he showed but astep over the threshold of the cell. 

"Oh! very well, " he returned, making light of what Rock had said. "Ifyou won't accept favours from an old, and, as you know, tried friend, Imust leave you so without them. But, " he added, addressing himself moredirectly to Kearney:

"You, Senor Irlandes--surely you won't be so unreasonable?"

"Carlos Santander, " said the young Irishman, looking his _ci-devant_adversary full in the face, "as I proved you not worth thrusting with mysword, I now pronounce you not worth words--even to call you coward, --though that you are from the crown of your head to the soles of yourfeet. Not even brave when your body is encased in armour. Dastard! Idefy you. "

Though manifestly stung by the reminder, Santander preserved hiscoolness. He had this, if not courage--at least a knack of feigning it. But again foiled in the attempt to humble the enemy, and, moreover, dreading exposure in the eyes of the gaol-governor--an old _militario_--should the story of the _steel shirt_ come out in the conversation, hedesisted questioning the _Tejanos_. Luckily for him none of the othersthere understood English--the language he and the Texans had used intheir brief, but sharp exchange of words. Now addressing himself to thegovernor, he said--

"As you perceive, Senor Don Pedro, these two gentlemen are oldacquaintances of mine, whose present unfortunate position I regret, andwould gladly relieve. Alas! I fear the law will take its course. "

At which commiserating remark Don Pedro smiled grimly; well aware of thesort of interest Colonel Santander took in the pair of prisonerscommitted to his care. For the order so to dispose of them he knew tohave come from Santander himself! It was not his place, nor was he thekind of man to inquire into motives; especially when these concerned hissuperiors. Santander was an officer on the staff of the Dictator, besides being a favourite at Court. The gaol-governor knew it, and wassubservient. Had he been commanded to secretly strangle the two menthus specially placed in his charge, or administer poison to them, hewould have done it without pity or protest. The cruel tyrant who hadmade him governor of the Acordada knew his man, and had already, asrumour said, with history to confirm it, more than once availed himselfof this means to get rid of enemies, personal or political. 

During all this interlude the robber had maintained his position andsilence, his face turned to the blank wall of the cloister, his backupon all the others. What his motive for this was neither of the Texanscould tell; and in all likelihood Santander knew not himself any morewho the man was. But his behaviour, from its very strangeness, courtedinquiry; and seemingly struck with it, the staff-colonel, addressinghimself to the gaol-governor, said--

"By the way, Don Pedro, who is your prisoner, who makes the fourth inthis curious quartette? He seems shy about showing his face, whichwould argue it an ugly one like my own. "

A bit of badinage in which Carlos Santander oft indulged. He knew thathe was anything but ill-favoured as far as face went. 

"Only a gentleman of the road--_un salteador_" responded the governor. 

"An interesting sort of individual then, " said Santander. "Let me scanhis countenance, and see whether it be of the true brigand type--aMazaroni or Diavolo. "

So saying, he stepped inside the cell, and passed on till he could seeover the robber's shoulder, who now slightly turning his head, facedtowards him. Not a word was exchanged between the two, but from thelooks it was clear they were old acquaintances, Santander starting as herecognised the other; while his glance betrayed a hostility strong andfierce as that felt for either Florence Kearney or the Texan. A slightexclamation, involuntary, but telling of anger, was all that passed hislips as his eyes met a pair of other eyes which seemed to pierce hisvery heart. 

He stayed not for more; but turning upon his heel, made direct for thedoor. Not to reach it, however, without interruption. In his hurry tobe gone, he stumbled over the legs of the Texan, that stretched acrossthe cell, nearly from side to side. Angered by the obstruction, he gavethem a spiteful kick, then passed on outward. By good fortune fast andfar out of reach, otherwise Cris Rock, who sprang to his feet, and onfor the entrance, jerking the dwarf after, would in all probabilitythere and then have taken his life. 

As it was, the gaol-governor, seeing the danger, suddenly shut thecloister door, so saving it. 

"Jest as I've been tellin' ye all along, Cap, " coolly remarked Rock, asthe slammed door ceased to make resonance; "we shed ha' hanged theskunk, or shot him thar an' then on the Shell Road. 'Twar a foolishthing lettin' him out o' that ditch when I had him in it. Darn the lucko' my not drownin' him outright! We're like to sup sorrow for it now. "

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

THE EXILES RETURNED. 

Of the _dramatis personae_ of our tale, already known to our reader, Carlos Santander, Florence Kearney, and Cris Rock were not the only oneswho had shifted residence from the City of New Orleans to that ofMexico. Within the months intervening two others had done the same--these Don Ignacio Valverde and his daughter. The banished exile had notonly returned to his native land, but his property had been restored tohim, and himself reinstated in the favour of the Dictator. 

More still, he had now higher rank than ever before; since he had beenappointed a Minister of State. 

For the first upward step on this progressive ladder of prosperity DonIgnacio owed all to Carlos Santander. The handsome _aide-de-camp_, having the ear of his chief, found little difficulty in getting the banremoved, with leave given the refugee--criminal only in a politicalsense--to come back to his country. 

The motive will easily be guessed. Nothing of either friendship orhumanity actuated Santander. Alone the passion of love; which had to donot with Don Ignacio--but his daughter. In New Orleans he himself daredno longer live, and so could no more see Luisa Valverde there. Purelypersonal then; a selfish love, such as he could feel, was the motive forhis intercession with the political chief of Mexico to pardon thepolitical criminal. But if he had been the means of restoring DonIgnacio to his country, that was all. True, there was the restitutionof the exile's estates, but this followed as a consequence onreinstatement in his political rights. The after honours andemoluments--with the appointment to a seat in the Cabinet--came from theChief of the State, Santa Anna himself. And his motive for thusfavouring a man who had lately, and for long, been his political foe wasprecisely the same as that which actuated Carlos Santander. TheDictator of Mexico, as famed for his gallantries in love as hisgallantry in war--and indeed somewhat more--had looked upon LuisaValverde, and "saw that she was fair. "

For Don Ignacio himself, as the recipient of these favours, much may besaid in extenuation. Banishment from one's native land, with loss ofproperty, and separation from friends as from best society; condemned tolive in another land, where all these advantages are unattainable, amidst a companionship uncongenial; add to this the necessity of work, whether mental or physical toil, to support life--the _res augustaedomi_; sum up all these, and you have the history of Don IgnacioValverde during his residence in New Orleans. He bore all patiently andbravely, as man could and should. For all he was willing--and it cannotbe wondered at that he was--when the day came, and a letter reached himbearing the State seal of the Mexican Republic--for its insignia wereyet unchanged--to say that he had received pardon, and could returnhome. 

He knew the man who had procured it for him--Carlos Santander--and hadreason to suspect something of the motive. But the mouth of a gifthorse must not be too narrowly examined; and Santander, ever since thatnight when he behaved so rudely in Don Ignacio's house, had been charyin showing his face. In point of fact, he had made but one more visitto the Calle de Casa Calvo here, presenting himself several days afterthe duel with a patch of court plaister on his cheek, and his arm in asling. An invalid, interesting from the cause which made him aninvalid, he gave his own account of it, knowing there was but littledanger of its being contradicted; Duperon's temper, he understood, withthat of the French doctor, securing silence. The others were all G. T. T. (gone to Texas), the hack-drivers, as he had taken pains to assurehimself. No fear, therefore, of what he alleged getting denial or beingcalled in question. 

It was to the effect that he had fought Florence Kearney, and given moreand worse wounds than he himself had received--enough of them, andsufficiently dangerous, to make it likely that his adversary would notlong survive. 

He did not say this to Luisa Valverde--only to her father. When sheheard it second hand, it came nigh killing her. But then the informanthad gone away--perhaps luckily for himself--and could not further bequestioned. When met again in Mexico, months after, he told the sametale. He had no doubt, however, that his duelling adversary, soterribly gashed as to be in danger of dying, still lived. For anAmerican paper which gave an account of the battle of Mier, had spokenof Captain Kearney in eulogistic terms, while not giving his name in thedeath list; this Santander had read. The presumption, therefore, was ofKearney being among the survivors. 

Thus stood things in the city of Mexico at the time the Mier prisonersentered it, as relates to the persons who have so far found place in ourstory--Carlos Santander, a colonel on the staff of the Dictator; DonIgnacio Valverde, a Minister of State; his daughter, a reigning belle ofsociety, with no aspirations therefor, but solely on account of herbeauty; Florence Kearney, late Captain of the Texan filibusters, withCris Rock, guide, scout, and general skirmisher of the same--these lastshut up in a loathsome prison, one linked leg to leg with a robber, theother sharing the chain of a murderer, alike crooked in soul as in body!

That for the Texan prisoners there was yet greater degradation instore--one of them, Kearney, was made aware the moment after thegaol-governor had so unceremoniously shut the door of their cell. Theteaching of Don Ignacio in New Orleans had not been thrown away uponhim; and this, with the practice since accruing through conversationwith the soldiers of their escort, had made him almost a master of theSpanish tongue. 

Carlos Santander either did not think of this, or supposed the cloisterdoor too thick to permit of speech in the ordinary tone passing throughit. It did, notwithstanding; what he said outside to the governorreaching the Irishman's ear, and giving him a yet closer clue to thathitherto enigma--the why he and Cris Rock had been cast into a commongaol, among the veriest and vilest of malefactors. 

The words of Santander were--

"As you see, Senor Don Pedro, the two Tejanos are old acquaintances ofmine. I met them not in Texas, but the United States--New Orleans--where we had certain relations; I need not particularise you. Only tosay that both the gentlemen left me very much in their debt; and I nowwish, above all things, to wipe out the score. I hope I may count uponyou to help me!"

There could be no mistaking what he meant. Anything but a repayal offriendly services, in the way of gratitude; instead, an appeal to thegaol-governor to assist him in some scheme of vengeance. So the latterunderstood it, as evinced by his rejoinder--

"Of course you can, Senor Colonel. Only say what you wish done. Yourcommands are sufficient authority for me. "

"Well, " said Santander, after an interval apparently spent inconsidering, "as a first step, I wish you to give these gentlemen anairing in the street; not alone the Tejanos, but all four. "

"_Caspita_!" exclaimed the governor, with a look of feigned surprise. "They ought to be thankful for that. "

"They won't, however. Not likely; seeing their company, and theoccupation I want them put at. "

"Which is?"

"A little job in the _zancas_!"

"In which street?"

"The Calle de Plateros. I observe that its stones are up. "

"And when?"

"To-morrow--at midday. Have them there before noon, and let them bekept until night, or, at all events, till the procession has passed. Doyou quite understand me?"

"I think I do, Senor Colonel. About their _jewellery_--is that to beon?"

"Every link of it. I want them to be coupled, just as they are now--dwarf to giant, and the two grand gentlemen together. "

"_Bueno_! It shall be done. "

So closed the curious dialogue, or, if continued, what came after it didnot reach the ears of Florence Kearney; they who conversed havingsauntered off beyond his hearing. When he had translated what he heardto Cris Rock, the latter, like himself, was uncertain as to what itmeant. Not so either of their prison companions, who had likewiselistened to the conversation outside--both better comprehending it. 

"_Bueno_, indeed!" cried the dwarf, echoing the gaol-governor'sexclamation. "It shall be done. Which means that before this timeto-morrow, we'll all four of us be up to our middle in mud. Won't thatbe nice? Ha! ha! ha!"

And the imp laughed, as though, instead of something repulsive, heexpected a pleasure of the most enjoyable kind. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

ON THE AZOTEA. 

In the city of Mexico the houses are flat-roofed, the roof bearing thename of _azotea_. A parapetted wall, some three or four feet in height, runs all round to separate those of the adjacent houses from one anotherwhen they chance to be on the same level, and also prevent falling off. Privacy, besides, has to do with this protective screen; the azoteabeing a place of almost daily resort, if the weather be fine, and afavourite lounging place, where visitors are frequently received. Thispeculiarity in dwelling-house architecture has an oriental origin, andis still common among the Moors, as all round the Mediterranean. Strange enough, the Conquistadors found something very similar in theNew World--conspicuously among the Mexicans--where the Aztecan houseswere flat or terrace-topped. Examples yet exist in Northern and NewMexico, in the towns of the Pecos Zunis, and Moquis. It is but natural, therefore, that the people who now call themselves Mexicans should havefollowed a pattern thus furnished them by their ancestry in bothhemispheres. 

Climate has much to do with this sort of roof, as regards itsdurability; no sharp frosts or heavy snows being there to affect it. Besides, in no country in the world is out-door life more enjoyable thanin Mexico, the rainy months excepted; and in them the evenings are dry. Still another cause contributes to make the roof of a Mexican house apleasant place of resort. Sea-coal and its smoke are things thereunknown; indeed chimneys, if not altogether absent, are few and farbetween; such as there are being inconspicuous. In the _siempre-verano_(eternal spring) of Anahuac there is no call for them; a wood fire hereand there kindled in some sitting-room being a luxury of a special kind, indulged in only by the very delicate or very rich. In the kitchens, charcoal is the commodity employed, and as this yields no visible sign, the outside atmosphere is preserved pure and cloudless as that whichoverhung the Hesperides. 

A well-appointed azotea is provided with pots containing shrubs andevergreen plants; some even having small trees, as the orange, lime, camellia, ferns, and palms; while here and there one is conspicuous by a_mirador_ (belvedere) arising high above the parapet to afford a betterview of the surrounding country. 

It would be difficult to find landscape more lovely, or moreinteresting, than that which surrounds the city of Mexico. Look in whatdirection one will, the eye is furnished with a feast. Plains, verdantand varied in tint, from the light green of the _milpas_ (young maize), to the more sombre _maguey_ plants, which, in large plantations(magueyals), occupy a considerable portion of the surface; fields of_chili_ pepper and frijoles (kidney beans); here and there wide sheetsof water between, glistening silver-like under the sun; bounding all aperiphery of mountains, more than one of their summits white withnever-melting snow--the grandest mountains, too, since they are theCordilleras of the Sierra Madre or main Andean chain, which here partedby some Plutonic caprice, in its embrace the beautiful valley of Mexico, elevated more than seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. 

Surveying it from any roof in the city itself, the scene is one todelight the eye and gladden the heart. And yet on the azotea of acertain house, or rather in the _mirador_ above it, stood a young lady, who looked over it without delight in her eye or gladness in her heart. Instead, the impression upon her countenance told of thoughts that, besides being sad, dwelt not on the landscape or its beauties. 

Luisa Valverde it was, thinking of another land, beautiful too, whereshe had passed several years in exile; the last of them marked by an erathe sweetest and happiest of her life. For it was there she firstloved; Florence Kearney being he who had won her heart. And the belovedone--where was he now? She knew not; did not even know whether he stilllived. He had parted from her without giving any clue, though it gavepain to her--ignorant of the exigencies which had ruled his suddendeparture from New Orleans. He had told her, however, of his becomingcaptain of the volunteer band; which, as she soon after became aware, had proceeded direct to Texas. Furthermore, she had heard all about theissue of the ill-fated expedition; of the gallant struggle made by themen composing it, with the havoc caused in their ranks; of the survivorsbeing brought on to the city of Mexico, and the cruel treatment they hadbeen submitted to on the march; of their daring attempt to escape fromthe Guards, its successful issue for a time, till their sufferings amongthe mountains compelled them to a second surrender--in short, everythingthat had happened to that brave band of which her lover was one of theleaders. 

She had been in Mexico throughout all this; for shortly after thedeparture of the volunteers for Orleans, her father had received thepardon we have spoken of. And there she had been watching the MierExpedition through every step of its progress, eagerly collecting everyscrap of information relating to it published in the Mexican papers;with anxious heart, straining her ears over the lists of killed andwounded. And when at length the account came of the shootings at ElSalado, apprehensively as ever scanned she that death-roll of nightwenty names--the _decimated_; not breathing freely until she hadreached the last, and saw that no more among these was his she feared tofind. 

So far her researches were, in a sense, satisfactory. Still, she wasnot satisfied. Neither to read or hear word of him--that seemedstrange; was so in her way of thinking. Such a hero as he, how couldhis name be hidden? Gallant deeds were done by the Tejanos, theirMexican enemies admitted it. Surely in these Don Florencio had takenpart, and borne himself bravely? Yes, she was sure of that. But whyhad he not been mentioned? And where was he now?

The last question was that which most frequently occupied her mind, constantly recurring. She could think of but one answer to it; thissaddening enough. He might never have reached the Rio Grande, butperished on the way. Perhaps his life had come to an inglorious thoughnot ignominious end--by disease, accident, or other fatality--and hisbody might now be lying in some lonely spot of the prairies, where hismarching comrades had hastily buried it. 

More than once had Luisa Valverde given way to such a train ofreflection during the months after her return to Mexico. They hadbrought pallor to her cheeks and melancholy into her heart. So much, that not all the honours to which her father had been restored--not allthe compliments paid to herself, nor the Court gaieties in which she wasexpected to take part--could win her from a gloom that seemed likely tobecome settled on her soul. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

WAITING AND WATCHING. 

As a rule, people of melancholy temperament, or with a sorrow at theheart, give way to it within doors in the privacy of their ownapartments. The daughter of Don Ignacio had been more often taught toassuage hers upon the house-top, to which she was accustomed to ascenddaily, staying there for hours alone. For this she had opportunity; herfather, busied with State affairs, spending most of his time--at leastduring the diurnal hours--at Government headquarters in the _Palacio_. 

On this day, however, Luisa Valverde mounted up to the azotea withfeelings, and under an impulse, very different from that hithertoactuating her. Her behaviour, too, was different. When she made herway up and took stand inside the mirador, her eyes, instead of wanderingall around, or resting dreamily on the landscape, with no care for itsattractions, were turned in a particular direction, and became fixedupon a single point. This was where the road, running from the city toTacubaya, alongside the aqueduct of Chapultepec, parts from the latter, diverging abruptly to the left. Beyond this point the causeway, carriedon among maguey plants, and Peruvian pepper trees, cannot be seen fromthe highest house-top in the city. 

Why on this day, more than any other, did the young lady direct herglance to the bend in the road, there keeping it steadfast? For whatreason was the expression upon her countenance so different from that ofother days? No listless look now; instead, an earnest eager gaze, asthough she expected to see some one whose advent was of the greatestinterest to her. It could only be the coming of some one, as one goingwould have been long since visible by the side of the aqueduct. 

And one she did expect to come that way; no grand cavalier on prancingsteed, but a simple pedestrian--in short, her own servant. She had senthim on an errand to Tacubaya, and was now watching for, and awaiting hisreturn. It was the nature of his errand which caused her to look forhim so earnestly. 

On no common business had he been despatched, but one of a confidentialcharacter, and requiring tact in its execution. But Jose, a _mestizo_whom she had commissioned, possessed this, besides having herconfidence, and she had no fear of his betraying her. Not that it was alife or death matter; only a question of delicacy. For his errand wasto inquire, whether among the Texan prisoners taken to Tacubaya one wascalled Florence Kearney. 

As it was now the third day after their arrival in Mexico, it may bewondered why the young lady had not sought this information before. Theexplanation is easy. Her father owned a country house in the environsof San Augustine, some ten miles from the city; and there staying shehad only the day before heard that the captive train, long looked-for, had at length arrived. Soon as hearing it, she had hastened her returnto town, and was now taking steps to ascertain whether her lover stilllived. 

She did not think of making inquiry at the Acordada, though a rumour hadreached her that some of the prisoners were there. But surely not DonFlorencio! If alive, it was not likely he would be thus disgraced: atleast she could not believe it. Little dreamt she of the malice thatwas moving, and in secret, to degrade in her eyes the man who wasuppermost in her thoughts. 

And as little suspected she when one of the house domestics came uponthe azotea and handed her a large ornamental envelope, bearing the Statearms, that it was part of the malignant scheme. 

Breaking it open she drew out an embossed and gilded card--a ticket. Itcame from the Dictator, inviting Dona Luisa Valverde to be present in agrand procession, which was to take place on the following day;intimating, moreover, that one of the State carriages would be at thedisposal of herself and party. 

There were but few ladies in the city of Mexico who would not have beenflattered by such an invitation; all the more from the card bearing thename, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, signed by himself, with the addedphrase "con estima particular. "

But little cared she for the flattery. Rather did it cause her afeeling of disgust, with something akin to fear. It was not the firsttime for the ruler of Mexico to pay compliments and thus press hisattentions upon her. 

Soon as glanced over, she let the despised thing fall, almost flingingit at her feet; and once more bent her eyes upon the Tacubaya Road, first carrying her glance along the side of the aqueduct to assureherself that her messenger had not in the meanwhile rounded the corner. 

He had not, and she continued to watch impatiently; the invitation toride in the State carriage being as much out of her mind as though shehad never received it. 

Not many minutes longer before being intruded on. This time, however, by no domestic; instead a lady--like herself, young and beautiful, butbeauty of an altogether different style. Though of pure Spanishdescent, Luisa Valverde was a _guera_; her complexion bright, with hairof sunny hue. Such there are in Mexico, tracing their ancestry to theshores of Biscay's famous bay. 

She who now appeared upon the azotea was dark; her skin showing a tingeof golden brown, with a profusion of black hair plaited and coiled as acoronet around her head. A crayon-like shading showed upon her upperlip--which on that of a man would have been termed a moustache--rendering whiter by contrast teeth already of dazzling whiteness; whilefor the same reason, the red upon her cheeks was of the deep tint of adamask rose. The tones of all, however, were in perfect harmony; anddistributed over features of the finest mould produced a face in whichsoft feminine beauty vied with a sort of savage picturesqueness, makingit piquantly attractive. 

It was altogether a rare bewitching face; part of its witchery being dueto the _raza Andalusiana_--and beyond that the Moriscan--but as much ofit coming from the ancient blood of Anahuac--possibly from the famedMalinche herself. For the young lady delineated was the CondesAlmonte--descended from one of Conquistadors who had wedded an Aztecprincess--the beautiful Ysabel Almonte whose charms were at the time thetoast of every _cercle_ in Mexico. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

A MUTUAL MISAPPREHENSION. 

Luisa Valverde and Ysabel Almonte were fast friends--so fondly intimatethat scarcely a day passed without their seeing one another andexchanging confidences. They lived in the same street; the Condesahaving a house of her own, though nominally owned by her grand-aunt andguardian. For, besides being beautiful and possessed of a title--one ofthe few still found in Mexico, relics of the old _regime_--YsabelAlmonte was immensely rich; had houses in the city, _haciendas_ in thecountry, property everywhere. She had a will of her own as well, andspent her wealth according to her inclinations, which were all on theside of generosity, even to caprice. By nature a lighthearted, joyouscreature, gay and merry, as one of the bright birds of her country, itwas a rare thing to see sadness upon her face. And yet Luisa Valverde, looking down from the mirador, saw that now. There was a troubledexpression upon it, excitement in her eyes, attitude, and gestures, while her bosom rose and fell in quick pulsations. True, she had run upthe _escalera_--a stair of four flights--without pause or rest; and thatmight account for her laboured breathing. But not for the flush on hercheek, and the sparkle in her eyes. These came from a different cause, though the same one which had carried her up the long stairway withoutpausing to take breath. 

She had not enough now left to declare it; but stood panting andspeechless. 

"_Madre de Dios_!" exclaimed her friend in an accent of alarm. "What isit, Ysabel?"

"_Madre de Dios_! I say too, " gasped the Condesa. "Oh, Luisita! whatdo you think?"

"What?"

"They've taken him--they have him in prison!"

"He lives then--still lives! Blessed be the Virgin!"

Saying which Luisa Valverde crossed her arms over her breast, and witheyes raised devotionally towards heaven, seemed to offer up a mute, butfervent thanksgiving. 

"Still lives!" echoed the Condesa, with a look of mingled surprise andperplexity. 

"Of course he does; surely you did not think he was dead!"

"Indeed I knew not what to think--so long since I saw or heard of him. Oh, I'm so glad he's here, even though in a prison; for while there'slife there's hope. "

By this the Condesa had recovered breath, though not composure ofcountenance. Its expression alone was changed from the look of troubleto one of blank astonishment. What could her friend mean? Why glad ofhis being in a prison? For all the while she was thinking of a _him_. 

"Hope!" she ejaculated again as an echo, then remaining silent, andlooking dazed-like. 

"Yes, Ysabel; I had almost despaired of him. But are you sure they havehim here in prison? I was in fear that he had been killed in battle, ordied upon the march, somewhere in those great prairies of Texas--"

"_Carramba_!" interrupted the young Countess, who, free of speech, wasaccustomed to interlarding it with her country forms of exclamation. "What's all this about prairies and Texas? So far as I know, Rupertowas never there in his life. "

"Ruperto!" echoed the other, the joy which had so suddenly lit up herfeatures as suddenly returning to shadow. "I thought you were speakingof Florencio. "

They understood each other now. Long since had their love secrets beenmutually confessed; and Luisa Valverde needed no telling who Rupertowas. Independent of what she had lately learned from the Condesa, sheknew him to be a gentleman of good family, a soldier of some reputation;but who--as once her own father--had the misfortune to belong to theparty now out of power; many of them in exile, or retired upon theirestates in the country--for the time taking no part in politics. As forhimself, he had not been lately seen in the city of Mexico, though itwas said he was still in the country; as rumour had it, hiding awaysomewhere among the mountains. And rumour went further, even to thedefiling of his fair name. There were reports of his having become arobber, and that, under another name, he was now chief of a band of_salteadores_, whose deeds were oft heard of on the Acapulco Road, wherethis crosses the mountains near that place of many murders--the CruzdelMarques. 

Nothing of this sinister tale, however, had reached the ears of DonIgnacio's daughter. Nor till that day--indeed that very hour--had she, more interested in him, heard aught of it. Hence much of the wildexcitement under which she was labouring. 

"Forgive me, Ysabel!" said her friend, opening her arms, and receivingthe Countess in sympathetic embrace; "forgive me for the mistake I havemade. "

"Nay, 'tis I who should ask forgiveness, " returned the other, seeing themisapprehension her words had caused, with their distressing effect. "Iought to have spoken plainer. But you know how much my thoughts havebeen dwelling on dear Ruperto. "

She did know, or should, judging by herself, and how hers had beendwelling on dear Florencio. 

"But, Ysabel: you say they made him a prisoner! Who has done that, andwhy?"

"The soldiers of the State. As to why, you can easily guess. Becausehe belongs to the party of Liberals. That's why, and nothing else. Butthey don't say so. I've something more to tell you. Would you believeit, Luisita, that they accuse him of being a _salteador_?"

"I can believe him accused of it--some of those in power now are wickedenough for anything--but not guilty. You remember we were acquaintedwith Don Ruperto, before that sad time when we were compelled to leavethe country. I should say he would be the last man to stain hischaracter by becoming a robber. "

"The very last man! Robber indeed! My noble Ruperto the purest ofpatriots, purer than any in this degenerate land. _Ay-de-mi_!"

"Where did they take him, and when?"

"Somewhere near San Augustin, and I think, several days ago, though I'veonly just heard of it. "

"Strange that. As you know, I've been staying at San Augustin for thelast week or more; and there was no word of such a thing there. "

"Not likely there would be; it was all done quietly. Don Ruperto hasbeen living out that way up in the mountains, hiding, if you choose tocall it. I know where, but no matter. Too brave to be cautious he hadcome down to San Augustin. Some one betrayed him, and going back he waswaylaid by the soldiers, surrounded, and made prisoner. There must havebeen a whole host of them, else they'd never have taken him so easily. I'm sure they wouldn't and couldn't. "

"And where is he now, Ysabel?"

"In prison, as I've told you. "

"But what prison?"

"That's just what I'm longing to know. All I've ye heard is that he'sin a prison under the accusation of being a highwayman. _Santissima_!"she added, angrily stamping her tiny foot on the tesselated flags. "They who accuse him shall rue it. He shall be revenged on them. I'llsee justice done him myself. Ah! that will I, though it costs me allI'm worth. Only to think--Ruperto a robber! My Ruperto! _Valga meDios_!"

By this, the two had mounted up into the mirador--the Senorita Valverdehaving come down to receive her visitor. And there, the first flurry ofexcitement over, they talked more tranquilly, or at all events, moreintelligibly of the affairs mutually affecting them. In those there wasmuch similarity, indeed, in many respects a parallelism. Yet thefeelings with which they regarded them were diametrically opposite. Oneknew that her lover was in prison, and grieved at it; the other hopedhers might be the same, and would have been glad of it!

A strange dissimilitude of which the reader has the key. 

Beyond what she had already said, the Condesa had little more tocommunicate, and in her turn became the questioner. 

"I can understand now, _amiga mia_, why you spoke of Don Florencio. TheTejano prisoners have arrived, and you are thinking he's amongst them?That's so, is it not?"

"Not thinking, but hoping it, Ysabel. "

"Have you taken any steps to ascertain?"

"I have. "

"In what way?"

"I've sent a messenger to Tacubaya, where I'm told they've been taken. "

"Not all. Some of them have been sent elsewhere. One party, I believe, is shut up in the Acordada. "

"What! in that fearful place? among those horrid wretches--the worstcriminals we have! The Tejans are soldiers--prisoners of war. Surelythey do not deserve such treatment?"

"Deserve it or not, some of them are receiving it. That grandgentleman, Colonel Carlos Santander--your friend by the way--told meso. "

The mention of Santander's name, but more a connection with the subjectspoken of, produced a visible effect on Luisa Valverde. Her cheekseemed to pale and suddenly flashed red again. Well she remembered, andvividly recalled, the old enmity between him and Don Florencio. Toowell, and a circumstance of most sinister recollection as matters stoodnow. She had thought of it before; was thinking of it all the time, andtherefore the words of the Condesa started no new train of reflection. They but intensified the fear she had already felt, for a time holdingher speechless. 

Not noticing this, and without waiting a rejoinder, the other ran on, still interrogating:

"Whom have you trusted with this delicate mission, may I ask?"

"Only Jose?"

"Well; Jose, from what I've seen of him, is worthy of the trust. Thatis so far as honesty is concerned, and possibly cleverness. But, _amigamia_, he's only a humble servitor, and out there in Tacubaya, among thegarrison soldiers, or if it be in any of the prisons, he may experiencea little difficulty in obtaining the information you seek. Did you givehim any money to make matters easy?"

"He has my purse with him, with permission to use it as he may seebest. "

"Ah! then you may safely expect his bringing back a good account, or atall events one that will settle the question you wish to have settled. Your purse should be a key to Don Florencio's prison--if he be insideone anywhere in Mexico. "

"Oh! I hope he is. "

"Wishing your _amanti_ in a prison! That would sound strange enough, ifone didn't understand it. "

"I'd give anything to know him there--all I have to be assured he stilllives. "

"Likely enough you'll soon hear. When do you expect your messenger tobe back?"

"At any moment. He's been gone many hours ago. I was watching for himwhen you came up--yonder on the Tacubaya Road. I see nothing of himyet, but he may have passed while we've been talking. "

"_Muy amiga mia_! How much our doings this day have been alike. I, too, have despatched a messenger to find out all about Ruperto, and amnow awaiting his return. I ran across to tell you of it. And now thatwe're together let us stay till we know the worst or the best. God helpus both; for, to make use of the phrase I've heard among _marineros_, we're `both in the same boat. ' What is this?" she added, stooping, andtaking up the gilded card which had been all the while lying upon thefloor. "Oh, indeed! Invitation to an airing in one of the Statecarriages--with such a pretty compliment appended! How free ElExcellentissimo is with his flattery. For myself I detest both him andit. You'll go, won't you?"

"I don't wish it. "

"No matter about wishing; I want you. And so will your father, I'msure. "

"But why do you want me?"

"Why, so that you may take me with you. "

"I would rather wait till I hear what father says. "

"That's all I ask, _amiga_. I shall be contented with his dictum, nowfeeling sure--"

She was interrupted by the pattering of feet upon the stone stairway;two pairs of them, which told that two individuals were ascending. Theheavy tread proclaimed them to be men. Presently their faces showedover the baluster rail, and another step brought them upon the roof. Both ladies regarding them with looks of eager inquiry, glided down outof the mirador to meet them. 

For they were the two messengers that had been despatched separately, though on errands so very similar. 

Returning, they had met by the front door, and entered the housetogether. Each having had orders to deliver his report, and withoutdelay, was now acting in obedience to them. 

Two and two they stood upon the azotea, --the men, hat in hand, stood infront of their respective mistresses; not so far apart, but that eachmistress might have heard what the servant of the other said; for ontheir part there was no wish or reason for concealment. 

"Senorita, " reported Jose, "the gentleman you sent me to inquire aboutis not in Tacubaya. "

Almost a cry came from Luisa Valverde's lips, as with paled cheek, shesaid, --"You've not heard of him, then?" But the colour quickly returnedat the answer, --"I have, Senorita; more, I have seen him. "

"Seen Don Florencio! Where? Speak, quick, Jose!"

"In the Acordada!"

"In the Acordada!" in still another voice--that of the Condesa speakingin a similar tone, as though it were an echo; for she, too, had justbeen told that her lover was in the same gaol. 

"I saw him in a cell, my lady, " continued the Countess's man, now takingprecedence. "They had him coupled to another prisoner--a Tejano. "

"He was in one of the cells, Senorita, " spoke Jose, also continuing hisreport, "chained to a robber. "

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

POR LAS ZANCAS. 

In all cities there is a street favoured by fashion. This in Mexico isthe Calle de Plateros (street of the silversmiths), so called becausethere the workers in precious metals and dealers in bijouterie "most docongregate. "

In this street the _jovenes dorados_ (gilded youth) of modernTenochtitlan strolled in tight-fitting patent leather boots, canary-coloured kid gloves, cane in hand, and quizzing-glass to the eye. There, too, the senoras and senoritas go shopping bareheaded, with butthe shawl thrown over the crown hood-fashion. 

When out only for promenade, none of these linger long in the street ofthe silversmiths. They but pass through it on their way to the_Alameda_, a sort of half-park, half-garden, devoted to the public use, and tastefully laid out in walks, terraces, and parterres with flowers, and fountains; grand old evergreen trees overshadowing all. For in thatsummery clime shade, not sun, is the desideratum. Here the _jovenesdorados_ spent part of the afternoons sauntering along the arcadedwalks, or seated around the great fountain watching the play of itscrystal waters. But with an eye to something besides--the senoritas, who are there, too, flirting the fans with a dexterity which speaks ofmuch practice--speaks of something more. Not every movement made bythese rustling segments of circles is intended to create currents of airand cool the heated skin. Many a twist and turn, watched with anxiouseyes, conveys intelligence interesting as words never spoken. In Mexicomany a love tale is told, passion declared, jealous pang caused oralleviated, by the mute languages of fans and fingers. 

Though the Calle de Plateros terminates at the gate of the Alameda, thesame line of street is continued half a mile further on, to thefashionable drive of the _Pasco Nuevo_, sometimes called Pasco deBuccareli, from the Viceroy who ruled New Spain when it was laid out. It is the Rotten Row of Mexico, for it is a ride as well as a drive; andat a certain hour of the afternoon a stream of carriages, with stringsof horsemen, may be seen tending towards it, the carriages drawn, someof them by mules, others by the small native horses, and a distinguishedfew by large English or American animals, there known as _frisones_. Itis the top thing to have a pair of "_frisones_. "

In the carriages, the senoras and senoritas are seen attired in theirrichest robes--full evening dress--bare-armed and bareheaded, theirhair, usually black, ablaze with jewels or entwined with flowers freshpicked--the sweet-scented suchil, the white star-like jasmine, andcrimson grenadine. Alongside ride the cavaliers, in high-peaked, stump-leather saddles, their steeds capering and prancing; each rider, to all appearance, requiring the full strength of his arms to controlhis mount, while insidiously using his spurs to render the animaluncontrollable. The more it pitches and plunges the better he ispleased, provided the occupants of the carriages have their eyes on him. 

Every day in the year--except during the week of _Guaresma_ (Lent), whencapricious fashion takes him to the Paseo Viejo, or _Lav Vigas_, on theopposite side of the city--can this brilliant procession be seen movingalong the Calle de Plateros, and its continuation, the Calle de SanFrancisco. 

But in this same thoroughfare one may often witness a spectacle lessresplendent, with groups aught but gay. Midway along the street runs adeep drain or sewer, not as in European cities permanently covered up, but loosely flagged over, the flags removable at will. This, the_zanca_, is more of a stagnant sink than a drainage sewer; since fromthe city to the outside country there is scarce an inch of fall to carryoff the sewage. As a consequence it accumulates in the zancas till theyare brimming full, and with a stuff indescribable. Every garbage goesthere--all the refuse of household product is shot into them. Atperiodical intervals they are cleared out, else the city would soon bea-flood in its own filth. It is often very near it, the blue blackliquid seen oozing up between the flagstones that bridge over thezancas, filling the air with a stench intolerable. Every recurringrevolution make the municipal authorities of Mexico careless about theircharge and neglectful of their duties. But when the scouring-outprocess is going on, the sights are still more offensive, and the smellstoo. Then the flags are lifted and laid on one side--exposing all theimpurity--while the stuff is tossed to the other, there to lie festeringfor days, or until dry enough to be more easily removed. For all itdoes not stop the circulation of the carriages. The grand dames seatedin them pass on, now and then showing a slight contortion in theirpretty noses. But they would not miss their airing in the Paseo were ittwenty times worse--that they wouldn't. To them, as to many of theirEnglish sisterhood in Hyde Park, the afternoon drive is everything--tosome, as report says, even more than meat or drink; since they denythemselves these for the keeping of the carriage. 

It may be imagined that the scouring-out of the zancas is a job forwhich labourers are not readily obtained. 

Even the _pelado_ turns up his nose at it, and the poorest proletarianwill only undertake the task when starvation is staring him in the face. For it is not only dirty, but deemed degrading. It is, therefore, oneof the travaux-forces which, as a matter of necessity, falls to the lotof the "gaol-bird. " Convicts are the scavengers; criminals sentenced tolong periods of imprisonment, of whom there are often enough in the_carceles_ of Mexico to clean out all the sewers in the country. Evenby these it is a task looked upon with repugnance, and usually assignedto them as a punishment for prison derelictions. Not that they so muchregard the dirt or the smells; it is the toil which offends them--thelabour being hard, and often requiring to be done under a hot, broilingsun. 

To see them is a spectacle of a rather curious kind, though repulsive. Coupled two and two--for the precaution is taken, and not unfrequentlyneeded--to keep their leg-chains on; up in mud to the middle of theirbodies, and above bespattered with it--such mud too! many of them withfaces that, even when clean, are aught but nice to look at; their eyesnow flashing fierce defiance, now bent down and sullen, they seem eitherat enmity or out of sorts with all mankind. Some among them, however, make light of it, bandy words with the passers-by, jest, laugh, sing, shout, and swear, which to a sensitive mind but makes the spectacle moresad. 

All this understood, it may well be conceived with what anxiety FlorenceKearney listened to that snatch of dialogue between Santander and thegaol-governor outside the cell. He did not even then quite comprehendthe nature of what was intended for them. But the sharer of his chaindid, who soon after made it all known to him, he passing the knowledgeon to Cris Rock. So when, on the next morning, the governor againpresented himself at the door of their cell, saying:

"Now, gentlemen, get ready to take a little exercise, "--they knew whatsort of exercise was meant. 

He, however, believing them ignorant of it--for he was not aware theyhad overheard his out-door speech with Santander, added ironically:

"It's a special favour I'm going to give you--at the request of SenorColonel Santander, who, as I've seen, takes a friendly interest in someof you. For your health's sake, he has asked me to give you a turn uponthe streets, which I trust you will enjoy and get benefit by. "

Don Pedro was a born joker, and felt conceit in his powers as asatirist. In the present instance his irony was shaftless, beingunderstood. 

The dwarf was the only one who deigned rejoinder. 

"Ha, ha, ha!" he yelled in his wild unearthly way. "Turn _upon_ thestreets! That's fine for you, Don Pedro. A turn _under_ the streets--that's what you mean, isn't it?"

He had been long enough in the gaol-governor's charge to know thelatter's name, and was accustomed to address him thus familiarly. Thedeformed creature was fearless from his very deformity, which in a waygave him protection. 

"_Vayate Zorillo_, " returned the Governor, slightly put out andevidently a little nettled, "you're too fond of jesting--or trying. I'll take that out of you, and I mean to give you a lesson in goodmanners this very day. " Then fixing his eyes upon Rivas, he added:"Senor Don Ruperto, I should be only too happy to let you off from thelittle excursion your prison companions are about to make and save youthe fatigue. But my orders are rigorous. They come from the highestquarter, and I dare not disobey them. "

This was all pure irony, intended but to torment him; at least so therobber seemed to understand it. For, instead of accepting it in afriendly sense, he turned savagely on his tormentor, hissing out:

"I know you daren't disobey them, dog that you are! Only such as youwould be governor of a gaol like this: you, who turned coat anddisgraced the sword you wore at Zacatecas. Do your worst, Don PedroArias! I defy you. "

"_Cascaras_! how swelling big you talk, Senor Captain Rivas! Ah! well. I'll let a little of the wind out of you too, before you bid good-bye tothe Acordada. Even the Condesa, grand dame though she is, won't be ableto get you clear of my clutches so easy as you may be thinking. LaGarrota is the lady likeliest to do that. "

After thus spitefully delivering himself, he called to some prisonwarders in waiting in the court outside, and commanded them to come upto him. 

"Here, " he directed, "take these two pairs and hand them over to theguard at the gate. You know what for, Dominguez?" The halfinterrogatory was addressed to a big, hulking fellow, chief of theturnkeys, who looked all Acordada. 

"_Por cierto, Senor Gobernador_, " he rejoined with a significant look, after giving the prison salute to his superior. "I know all about it. "

"See, moreover, that they be kept all day at it; that's my orders. "

"Sure will I, Senor, " was the compliant rejoinder. 

After which the man twitted with turning his coat, turned his back uponthe place where he had been so ungraciously received, going off to moreagreeable quarters. 

"Now, gentlemen!" said the gaoler, stepping up to the door of the cell, "_Por las zancas_!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

TYRANT AND TOOL. 

_El Excellentissimo Illustrissimo General Don Jose Antonio Lopez deSanta Anna_. 

Such the twice sesquipedalian name and title of him who at this timewielded the destinies of Mexico. For more than a quarter of a centurythis man had been the curse of the young Republic--its direst, deadliestbane. For although his rule was not continuous, its evil effects were. Unfortunately, the demoralisation brought about by despotism extendsbeyond the reign or life of the despot; and Santa Anna had so debasedthe Mexican people, both socially and politically, as to render themunfitted for almost any form of constitutional government. They hadbecome incapable of distinguishing between the friends of freedom andits foes; and in the intervals of Liberal administration, because theMillennium did not immediately show itself, and make all rich, prosperous, and happy, they leaped to the conclusion that its failurewas due to the existing _regime_, making no account or allowance for thestill uncicatrised wounds of the body politic being the work of hiswicked predecessor. 

This ignorance of political cause and effect is, alas! not aloneconfined to Mexico. There is enough of it in England, too, as in everyother nation. But in the earlier days of the Mexican Republic, thebaneful weed flourished with unusual vigour and rankness--to the benefitof Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, and the blight of his country. Deposedand banished so many times that their number is not easily remembered, he was ever brought back again--to the wonder of people then, and thepuzzle of historians yet. The explanation, however, is simple enough. He reigned through corruption that he had himself been instrumental increating; through militarism and an abominable _Chauvinism_--this lastas effective an instrument as the oppressor can wield. _Divide etimpera_ is a maxim of despotic state-craft, old as despotism itself;"flatter and rule" is a method equally sure, and such Santa Annapractised to its full. He let pass no opportunity of flattering thenational vanity, which brought the Mexican nation to shame, with muchhumiliation--as the French at a later period, and as it must everypeople that aims at no higher standard of honour than what may bederived from self-adulation. 

At the time I am writing of, the chief of the Mexican Republic wasaiming at "Imperium"--eagerly straining for it. Its substance healready had, the "Libertas" having been long since eliminated from hissystem of government, and trodden under foot. But the title he had notacquired yet. He yearned to wear the purple, and be styled "Imperador, "and in order to prepare his subjects for the change, already kept a sortof Imperial court, surrounding it with grand ceremonials. As a matterof course, these partook of a military character, being himself not onlypolitical head of the State, but commander-in-chief of its armies. As aconsequence, _Palacio_, his official residence was beset withsoldier-guards, officers in gorgeous uniforms loitering about the gates, or going out and in, and in the Plaza Grande at all times exhibiting thespectacle of a veritable Champ de Mars. No one passing through theMexican metropolis at this period would have supposed it the chief cityof a Republic. 

On that same day in which Carlos Santander had shown himself at theAcordada, only at an early hour, the would-be Emperor was seated in hisapartment of the palace in which he was wont to give audience toordinary visitors. He had got through the business affairs of themorning, dismissed his Ministers, and was alone, when one of theaides-de-camp in attendance entered with a card, and respectfullysaluting him, laid it on the table before him. 

"Yes; say I can see him. Tell him to come in, " he directed, soon asreading the name on the card. 

In the door, on its second opening, appeared Carlos Santander, in theuniform of a colonel of Hussars, gold bedizened, and laced from collarto cuffs. 

"Ah! Senor Don Carlos!" exclaimed the Dictator in a joyous, jocularway, "what's your affair? Coming to tell me of some fresh conquestyou've made among the _muchachas_? From your cheerful countenance Ishould say it's that. "

"Excellentissimo!"

"Oh! you needn't deny, or look so demure about it. Well, you're a luckyfellow to be the lady killer I've heard say you are. "

"Your Excellency, that's only say-say; I ought rather to call itslander. I've no ambition to be thought such a character. Quite thereverse, I assure you. "

"If you could assure me, but you can't. I've had you long enough undermy eye to know better. Haven't I observed your little flirtations withquite half a score of our senoritas, among them a very charming younglady you met in Louisiana, if I mistake not?"

Saying this, he fixed his eyes on Santander's face in a searching, interrogative way, as though he himself felt more than a common interestin the charming young lady who had been met in Louisiana. 

Avoiding his glance, as evading the question, the other rejoined--

"It is very good of your Excellency to take such interest in me, and I'mgrateful. But I protest--"

"Come, come! _amigo mio_! No protestations. 'Twould only be addingperjury to profligacy. Ha, ha, ha!"

And the grand dignitary leaned back in his chair, laughing. For it wasbut badinage, and he in no way intended lecturing the staff-colonel onhis morality, nor rebuking him for any backslidings. Instead, what cameafter could but encourage him in such wise, his chief continuing--

"Yes, Senor Don Carlos, I'm aware of your _amourettes_, for which I'mnot the man to be hard upon you. In that regard, I myself get thecredit--so rumour says--of living in a glass house, so I cannot safelythrow stones. Ha, ha!"

The tone of his laugh, with his self-satisfied look, told of his beingaught but angry with rumour for so representing him. 

"Well, Excellentissimo, " here put in the subordinate, "it don't muchsignify what the world says, so long as one's conscience is clear. "

"_Bravo--bravissimo_!" exclaimed the Most Excellent. "Ha, ha, ha!" hecontinued, in still louder cachinnation. "Carlos Santander turnedmoralist! And moralising to me! It's enough to make a horse laugh. Ha, ha, ha!"

The staff-colonel appeared somewhat disconcerted, not knowing to whatall this might be tending. However, he ventured to remark--

"I am glad to find your Excellency in such good humour this morning. "

"Ah! that's because you've come to ask some favour from me, I suppose. "Santa Anna had a habit of interlarding his most familiar and friendlydiscourse with a little satire, sometimes very disagreeable to those heconversed with. "But never mind, " he rattled on, "though I confess somesurprise at your hypocrisy, which is all thrown away upon me, _amigo_!I don't at all wonder at your success with the senoritas. You're ahandsome fellow, Don Carlos; and if it weren't for that scar on yourcheek--By the way, you never told me how you came by it. You hadn't itwhen you were last with us. "

The red flushed into Santander's face, and up over his forehead to theroots of his hair. He had told no one in Mexico, nor anywhere else, howhe came by that ugly thing on his jaw, which beard could not conceal, and which he felt as a brand of Cain. 

"It's a scar of a sword-cut, your Excellency. I got it in a duel. "

"Ah! An honourable wound, then. But where?"

"In New Orleans. "

"Just the place for that sort of thing, as I know, having been theremyself. " (Santa Anna had made a tour of the States, on _parole_, afterthe battle of San Jacinto, where he was taken prisoner. ) "A very den ofduellists is Nuevo Orleans; many of them _maitres d'escrime_. But whowas your antagonist? I hope you gave him as good as you got. "

"I did, your Excellency; that, and more. "

"You killed him?"

"Not quite. I would have done so, but that my second interposed, andpersuaded me to let him off. "

"Well, he hasn't let you off, anyhow. What was the quarrel about?_Carrai_! I needn't ask; the old orthodox cause--a lady, of course?"

"Nay; for once your Excellency is in error. Our _desajio_ originated insomething quite different. "

"What thing?"

"An endeavour on my part to do a service to Mexico and its honouredruler. "

"Oh, indeed! In what way, Senor Colonel?"

"That band of _filibusteros_, of which, as your Excellency willremember--"

"Yes--yes, " interrupted Santa Anna impatiently. He evidently knew allabout that, and preferred hearing no more of it. "It was one of the_filibusteros_ you fought with, I suppose?"

"Yes, Excellentissimo; the one they chose for their captain. "

"You were angry at his being preferred to yourself, and so called himout? Well, that was cause enough to a man of your mettle. But whatbecame of him afterwards? Was he among those at Mier?"

"He was. "

"Killed there?"

"No, your Excellency; only taken prisoner. "

"Shot at Salado?"

"Neither that, Excellentissimo. "

"Then he must be here?"

"He is here, your Excellency. "

"What's his name?"

"Kearney--Florence Kearney, _un Irlandes_. "

A peculiar expression came over Santa Anna's features, a sort of knowinglook, as much as to say the name was not new to him. Nor was it. Thatvery morning, only an hour before, Don Ignacio Valverde had audience ofhim on a matter relating to this same man--Florence Kearney; in short, to obtain clemency for the young Irishman--full pardon, if possible. But the Minister had been dismissed with only vague promises. Hisinfluence at court was still not very great, and about the motive forhis application--as also who it originated from--Santa Anna hadconceived suspicions. 

Of all this he said nothing to the man before him now, simplyinquiring--

"Is the _Irlandes_ at Tacubaya?"

"No, your Excellency; he's in the Acordada. "

"Since you had the disposal of the Tejano prisoners, I can understandthat, " returned the Dictator, with a significant shrug. "It's abouthim, then, you're here, I suppose. Well, what do you want?"

"Your authority, Excellentissimo, to punish him as he deserves. "

"For making that tracing on your cheek, eh? You repent not havingpunished him more at the time when you yourself had the power? Isn't itso, Senor Colonel?"

Santander's face reddened, as he made reply--

"Not altogether, your Excellency. There's something besides, for whichhe deserves to be treated differently from the others. "

Santa Anna could have given a close guess at what the exceptionalsomething was. To his subtle perception a little love drama wasgradually being disclosed; but he kept his thoughts to himself, with hiseyes still searchingly fixed on Santander's face. 

"This Kearney, " continued the latter, "though an Irishman, is one ofMexico's bitterest enemies, and especially bitter against yourExcellency. In a speech he made to the _filibusteros_, he called you ausurper, tyrant, traitor to liberty and your country--ay, even coward. Pardon me for repeating the vile epithets he made use of. "

Santa Anna's eyes now scintillated with a lurid sinister light, as iffilled with fire, ready to blaze out. In the American newspapers he hadoften seen his name coupled with such opprobrious phrases, but neverwithout feeling savagely wrathful. And not the less that his own innateconsciousness told him it was all as said. 

"_Chingara_!" he hissed out, for he was not above using this vulgarexclamation. "If it is true what you say, Don Carlos, as I presume itis, you can do as you like with this dog of an _Irlandes_! have himshot, or have him despatched by _La Garrota_, whichever seems best toyou. But no--stay! That won't do yet. There's a question about theseTejanos with the United States Minister; and as this Kearney is anIrishman, and so a British subject, the representative of that countrymay make trouble too. So till all this is settled, the _Irlandes_mustn't be either shot or garrotted. Instead, let him be treatedtenderly. You comprehend?"

The staff-colonel did comprehend; the emphasis on the "tenderly" made itimpossible for him to mistake the Dictator's meaning, which was just ashe desired it. As he passed out of the presence, and from the room, hiscountenance was lit up, or rather darkened, by an expression of fiendishtriumph. He now had it in his power to humiliate them who had sohumbled him. 

"Quite a little comedy!" soliloquised Santa Anna, as the door closed onhis subordinate, "in which, before it's played out, I may myself take apart. She's a charming creature, this Senorita Valverde. But, ah!nothing to the Condesa. That woman--witch, devil, or whatever I maycall her--bids fair to do what woman never did--make a fool of Lopez deSanta Anna. "

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

A WOODEN-LEGGED LOTHARIO. 

For some time the Dictator remained in his seat lighting cigarrito aftercigarrito, and puffing away at them furiously. The look of lightfrivolity had forsaken his face, which was now overcast with gloom. 

At this time, as said, he wielded supreme unlimited power over theMexican people--even to life and death. For although he might notrecklessly or openly decree this, he could bring it about secretly--bymeans which, if rumour spoke true, he had more than once made use of. Indeed, there stood against his name more than one well-confirmed recordof assassination. 

Thought of this may have had something to do with the cloud that hadcome over his features; though not for any qualms of conscience for themurders he may have committed or hired others to commit. More likely afear that he himself might some day meet a similar fate; like alldespots he dreaded the steel of the assassin. By his corruptadministration, he had encouraged bravoism till it had become adangerous element in the social life of his country--almost aninstitution--and it was but natural he should fear the bravo's bladeturned against himself. 

Another apprehension may at this time have been troubling him. Althoughto all appearance secure in the dictatorial chair, with a likelihood ofhis soon converting it into a real throne, he had his misgivings aboutthis security. By imprisonments, executions, banishments, andconfiscations, he had done all in his power to annihilate the Liberalparty. But though crushed and feeble now, its strength was but inabeyance, its spirit still lived, and might again successfully assertitself. No man knew this better than he himself; and no better teachercould he have had than his own life's history, with its alternatingchapters of triumph and defeat. Even then there was report of a_pronunciamento_ in one of the northern cities of the Republic--theState, by a polite euphemism, being still so designated. Only a faint"gritto" it was, but with a tone that resembled the rumbling of distantthunder, which might yet be heard louder and nearer. 

Little, however, of matters either revolutionary or political was hethinking now. The subject uppermost in his mind was that latent on hislips--woman. Not in a general way, but with thoughts specially bentupon one of them, or both, with whose names he had just been makingfree. As his soliloquy told, a certain "Condesa" had first place in hisreflections, she being no other than the Condesa Almonte. In his wickedway he had made love to this young lady, as to many others; but, unlikeas with many others, he had met repulse. Firm, though withoutindignation, his advances not yet having gone so far, nor been so bold, as to call for this. He had only commenced skirmishing with her; apreliminary stroke of his tactics being that invitation to ride in theState carriage extended to Dona Luisita Valverde, while withheld fromthe Countess--an astute manoeuvre on his part, and, as he supposed, likely to serve him. In short, the old sinner was playing the old gameof "piques. " Nor did he think himself so ancient as to despair ofwinning at it. In such contests he had too often come off victorious, and success might attend upon him still. Vain was he of his personalappearance, and in his earlier days not without some show of reason. Inhis youth Santa Anna would claim to be called, if not handsome, a fairlygood-looking man. Though a native Mexican, a _Vera-cruzano_, he was ofpure Spanish race and good blood--the boasted _sangre-azul_. Hisfeatures were well formed, oval, and slightly aquiline, his complexiondark, yet clear, his hair and moustaches black, lustrous, and profuse. But for a sinister cast in his eyes, not always observable, hiscountenance would have been pleasing enough. As it was he pridedhimself upon it even now that he was well up in years, and his hairbecoming silvered. As for the moustaches, black pomatum kept them totheir original colour. 

One thing soured him, even more than advancing age--his wooden leg. 'Tis said he could never contemplate that without an expression of paincoming over his features, as though there was gout in the leg itselfgiving him a twinge. And many the time--nay, hundreds of times--did hecurse Prince de Joinville. For it was in defending Vera Cruz againstthe French, commanded by the latter, he had received the wound, whichrendered amputation of the limb necessary. In a way he ought to haveblessed the Prince, and been grateful for the losing of it rather thanotherwise. Afterwards the mishap stood him in good stead; at electiontimes when he was candidate for the Chief Magistracy of the State. Thenhe was proud to parade the artificial limb; and did so to some purpose. It was, indeed, an important element in his popularity, and more thanonce proved an effective aid to his reinstatement. With a grim look, however, he regarded it now. For though it had helped him politically, he was not thinking of politics, and in what he was thinking about heknew it an obstruction. A woman to love a man with a wooden leg! Andsuch a woman as Ysabel Almonte! Not that he put it to himself in thatway; far from it. He had still too good an opinion, if not of hispersonal appearance, at least of his powers otherwise, and he even thenfelt confident of success. For he had just succeeded in removinganother obstacle which seemed likely to be more in his way than thewooden leg. He had but late come to know of it; but as soon as knowing, had taken measures to avert the danger dreaded--by causing theimprisonment of a man. For it was a man he feared, or suspected, as hiscompetitor for the affections of the Condesa. It had cost him no smalltrouble to effect this individual's arrest, or rather capture. He wasone of the proscribed, and in hiding; though heard of now and then asbeing at the head of a band of _salteadore_--believed to have turnedhighwayman. 

But he had been taken at length, and was at that moment in the gaol ofthe Acordada; which Santa Anna well knew, having himself ordered hisincarceration there, and given other instructions regarding him to thegaol-governor, who was one of his creatures. 

After sitting for some time, as he stretched out his hand, and held theend of his paper cigar to the red coals burning in a _brazero_ on thetable before him, the frown upon his features changed to a demoniacsmile. Possibly from the knowledge that this man was now in his power. Sure was he of this; but what would he not have given to be as sure ofher being so too!

Whether his reflections were sweet or bitter, or which predominated, hewas not permitted longer to indulge in them. The door again opening--after a tap asking permission to enter--showed the same aide-de-camp. And on a similar errand as before, differing only in that now he placedtwo cards on the table instead of one; the cards themselves beingsomewhat dissimilar to that he had already brought in. 

And with altogether a different air did Santa Anna take them up forexamination. He was enough interested at seeing by their size and shapethat those now desiring an audience of him were ladies. But on readingthe names, his interest rose to agitation, such as the aide-de-campnever before had seen him exhibit, and which so much astonished theyoung officer that he stood staring wonderingly, if not rudely, at thegrand dignitary, his chief. His behaviour, however, was not noticed, the Dictator's eyes being all upon the cards. Only for an instantthough. If he gave ready reception to his late visitor, still readierdid he seem desirous of according it to those now seeking speech withhim. 

"Conduct the ladies in, " was his almost instantaneous command, asquickly retracted. For soon as spoken he countermanded it; seeminglyfrom some afterthought which, as a codicil, had suddenly occurred tohim. Then followed a chapter of instructions to the aide-de-camp, confidential, and to the effect that the ladies were not to beimmediately introduced. He was to keep them in conversation in theante-chamber outside, till he should hear the bell. 

Judging by his looks as he went out the young subaltern was more thansatisfied with the delay thus enjoined upon him. It was aught but adisagreeable duty; for, whether acquainted with the ladies who were inwaiting, or not, he must have seen that both were bewitchinglybeautiful--one being Luisa Valverde, the other Ysabel Almonte. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

A PAIR OF BEAUTIFUL PETITIONERS. 

Soon as the aide-de-camp had closed the door behind him, Santa Annasprang up from his seat and hastily stumped it to a large cheval glasswhich stood on one side of the room. Squaring himself before this hetook survey of his person from crown to toes. He gave a pull or two athis moustaches, twisting their points, and turning them upward along hischeeks. Then running his fingers comb-like through his hair, he gavethat also a jaunty set. In fine, straightening himself in hisgold-braided uniform frock, with a last glance down to his feet--thisresulting in a slight grimace--he returned to the state chair andreseated himself. 

With all his gallantry and politeness--and to these he made muchpretension--it was not his custom to receive lady visitors standing. Inthe upright attitude the artificial leg made him look stiff, and hepreferred stowing it away under the table. Besides, there was hisdignity, as the grand figure-head of the nation, which he now wished tohave its full effect. Leaning forward, he gave a downward blow to thespring of the table bell; then assuming an attitude of expectantgrandeur, sate expectant. This time the aide-de-camp required nopassing to and fro; and the door again opening, the ladies were usheredinto the august presence. 

In their air and manner they betrayed agitation too, while the seriousexpression upon their features told they were there on no trivialerrand. 

"Pray be seated, ladies, " said the Dictator, after exchangingsalutations with them. "'Tis not often the Condesa Almonte honours thePalacio with her presence, and for the Senorita Valverde, were it notfor official relations with her father, I fear we should see even lessof her than we do. "

While speaking he pointed to a couple of couch chairs that stood nearthe table. 

They sat down rather hesitatingly, and slightly trembling. Not thateither would have been at all timid had the occasion been a common one. Both were of Mexico's best blood, the Condesa one of the old _noblesse_who hold their heads higher even than the political chief of the State, when he chances to be--as more than once has occurred--an adventurer ofhumbler birth. Therefore, it was not any awe of the great dignitarythat now unnerved them, but the purpose for which they were seekingspeech with him. Whether Santa Anna guessed it, or not, could not betold by his looks. An experienced diplomatist, he could keep hisfeatures fixed and immovable as the Sphinx, or play them to suit thetime and the tune. So, after having delivered himself, as above, withthe blandest of smiles upon his face, he remained silent, awaiting therejoinder. 

It was the Condesa who made it. 

"Your Excellency, " she said, doing her utmost to look humble; "we havecome to beg a favour from you. "

A gratified look, like a gleam of light, illuminated Santa Anna'sswarthy features. Ysabel Almonte begging favours from him! What bettercould he have wished? With all his command of features he butill-concealed the triumph he now felt. It flashed up in his eyes as hesaid respondingly--

"A favour you would ask? Well, if it be within my power to grant it, neither the Condesa Almonte, nor the Dona Luisa Valverde need fearrefusal. Be frank, then, and tell me what it is. "

The Countess, with all her courage, still hesitated to declare it. Fordespite the ready promise of compliance, she did fear a refusal; sinceit had been asked for that same morning and though not absolutelyrefused, the answer left but little hope of its being conceded. 

As is known, at an earlier hour Don Ignacio had paid a visit to thePalacio, to seek clemency for a prisoner-of-war, Florence Kearney. Butpardon for a state prisoner was also included in his application--thatbeing Ruperto Rivas. Of all this the ladies were well aware, since itwas at their instigation, and through their importunity, he had acted. It was only, therefore, by the urgency of a despairing effort, as a_dernier ressort_, these had now sought the presence as petitioners, andnaturally they dreaded denial. Noting the Condesa's backwardness--athing new but not displeasing to him, since it gave promise of influenceover her--Santa Anna said interrogatively:

"Might this favour, as you are pleased to term it, have ought to do witha request lately made to me by Don Ignacio Valverde?"

"'Tis the same, your Excellency, " answered the Countess, at lengthrecovering spirit, but still keeping up the air of meek supplication shehad assumed. 

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Dictator, adding, "that grieves me very much. "

He made an attempt to look sorry, though it needed none for him toappear chagrined. This he was in reality, and for reasons intelligible. Here were two ladies, both of whom he had amatory designs upon, eachproclaiming by her presence--as it were telling him to his teeth, thegreat interest she felt in another--that or she would not have beenthere!

"But why, Excellentissimo?" asked the Countess, entreatingly. "What isthere to grieve you in giving their freedom to two men--gentlemen, neither of whom has been guilty of crime, and who are in prison only foroffences your Excellency can easily pardon?"

"Not so easily as you think, Condesa. You forget that I am but officialhead of the State, and have others to consult--my Ministers and theCongress--in affairs of such magnitude. Know, too, that both these menfor whom you solicit pardon have been guilty of the gravest offences;one of them, a foreigner, an enemy of our country, taken in arms againstit; the other, I am sorry to say, a citizen, who has become a rebel, andworse still, a robber!"

"'Tis false!" exclaimed the Countess, all at once changing tone, andseeming to forget the place she was in and the presence. "Don RupertoRivas is no robber; never was, nor rebel either; instead, the purest ofpatriots!"

Never looked Ysabel Almonte lovelier than at that moment--perhaps neverwoman. Her spirit roused, cheeks red, eyes sparkling with indignation, attitude erect--for she had started up from her chair--she seemed to bethe very impersonation of defiance, angry, but beautiful. No longermeek or supplicating now. Instinct or intuition told her it would be ofno use pleading further, and she had made up her mind for the worst. 

The traits of beauty which her excitement called forth, added piquancyto her natural charms, and inflamed Santa Anna's wicked passions all themore. But more than any of them revenge. For now he knew how much thefair petitioner was interested in the man whose suit she had preferred. With a cold cynicism--which, however, cost him an effort--he rejoined:

"That, perhaps, is your way of thinking, Condesa. But it remains to beproved--and the prisoner you speak of shall have an opportunity ofproving it--with his innocence in every respect. That much I canpromise you. The same for him, " he added, turning to Luisa Valverde, "in whom, if I mistake not, the Dona Luisa is more especiallyinterested. These _gentlemen_ prisoners shall have a fair trial, andjustice done them. Now, ladies! can you ask more of me?"

They did not; both seeing it would be to no purpose. Equallypurposeless to prolong the interview; and they turned toward the door, the daughter of Don Ignacio leading where she had before followed. 

This was just as Santa Anna wished it. Seemingly forgetful of hiscork-leg, and the limp he took such pains to conceal, he jerked himselfout of his chair and hurried after--on a feigned plea of politeness. Just in time to say to the Countess in a hurried, half-whisper:--

"If the Condesa will return, and prefer her request _alone_, it may meetwith more favour. "

The lady passed on, with head held disdainfully, as though she heard butwould not heed. She did hear what he said, and it brought a fresh flushupon her cheek, with another flash of anger in her eyes. For she couldnot mistake his meaning, and knew it was as the serpent whispering intothe ear of Eve. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

A WOMAN'S SCHEME. 

"My poor Ruperto is indeed in danger! Now I am sure of it. Ah, even tohis life! And I may be the cause of his losing it. "

So spoke the Countess Almonte half in soliloquy, though beside her sather friend Luisa Valverde. They were in a carriage on return from theirfruitless visit to the Dictator. It was the Countess' own landau whichhad remained waiting for them outside the Palace gates. 

The other, absorbed with her own anxieties, might not have noticed whatwas said but for its nature. This, being in correspondence with whatwas at the moment in her own mind, caught her ear, almost making herstart. For she, too, was thinking of a life endangered, and how muchthat danger might be due to herself. It was not poor Ruperto's life, but poor Florencio's. 

"You the cause, Ysabel!" she said, not in surprise, save at thesimilarity of their thoughts. "Ah! yes; I think I comprehend you. "

"If not, _amiga_, don't ask explanation of it now. It's a hatefulthing, and I dislike to think, much more speak of it. Some other timeI'll tell you all. Now we've work to do--a task that will take all ourenergies--all our cunning to accomplish it. However is it to be done?_Valga me Dios_!"

To her interrogatory she did not expect reply. And the desponding lookof Luisa Valverde showed she had none to give that would besatisfactory; for she quite understood what was the task spoken of, andequally comprehended the difficulty of its accomplishment. Perplexed asthe Countess herself, and possibly more despairing, she could but echothe exclamatory words--

"How indeed! _Valga me Dios_. "

For a while they sat without further exchange of speech, both buried inthought. Not long, however, when the Countess again spoke, saying--

"You're not good at dissembling, Luisita; I wish you were. "

"_Santissima_!" exclaimed her friend, alike surprised at the remark asat its abruptness. "Why do you wish that Ysabel?"

"Because I think I know a way by which something might be done--if youwere but the woman to do it. "

"Oh, Ysabelita! I will do anything to get Florencio out of prison. "

"It isn't Florencio I want you to get out, but Ruperto. Leave thegetting out of Florencio to me. "

Still more astonished was Don Ignacio's daughter. What could thecountess mean now? She put the question to her thus--

"What is it you desire me to do?"

"Practise a little deception--play the coquette--that's all. "

It was not in Luisa Valverde's nature. If she had many admirers, andshe had--some of them over head and ears in love with her--it was fromno frivolity, or encouragement given them, on her part. From the dayFlorence Kearney first made impression upon her heart, it had been trueto him, and she loyal throughout all. So much that people thought hercold, some even pronouncing her a prude. They knew not how warmly thatheart beat, though it was but for one. Thinking of this one, however, what the countess proposed gave her a shock, which the latterperceiving, added, with a laugh--

"Only for a time, _amiga mia_. I don't want you to keep it up tillyou've got a naughty name. Nor to make fools of all the fine gentlemenI see dangling around you. Only one. "

"Which one?"

She was not averse to hearing what the scheme was, at all events. Howcould she be, in view of the object aimed at?

"A man, " pursued the Countess, "who can do more for us than your father;more than we've been able to do ourselves. "

"Who is he?"

"Don Carlos Santander, colonel of Hussars on the staff--aide-de-camp andadjutant to El Excellentissimo in more ways than military ones--some notquite so honourable, 'tis said. Said also, that this staff-colonel, forreasons nobody seems to know, or need we care, has more influence atCourt than almost any one else. So what I want you to do is to utilisethis influence for our purpose, which I know you can. "

"Ah, Ysabelita! How much you are mistaken, to think I could influencehim to that! Carlos Santander would be the last man to help me inprocuring pardon for Florencio--the very last. You know why. "

"Oh yes; I know. But he may help me in procuring pardon for Ruperto. Luckily my good looks, if I have any, never received notice from thegrand colonel, who has eyes only for you; so he's not jealous ofRuperto. As the obsequious servant of his master, hostile to him nodoubt; but that might be overcome by your doing as I should direct. "

"But what would you have me do. "

"Show yourself _complaisant_ to the Colonel. Only in appearance, asI've said; and only for a time till you've tried your power over him, and see with what success. "

"I'm sure it would fail. "

"I don't think it would, _amiga mia_; and will not, if you go about itaccording to instructions. Though it may cost you some unpleasantness, Luisita, and an effort, you'll make it for my sake, won't you? And as areward, " pursued the Countess, as if to render her appeal more surelyeffective, "I shall do as much for you, and in a similar way. For I, too, intend counterfeiting complacency in a certain quarter, and in theinterest of a different individual--Don Florencio. Now, you understandme?"

"Not quite yet. "

"Never mind. I'll make it more plain by-and-by. Only promise me thatyou'll do--"

"Dearest Ysabelita! I'd do anything for you. "

"And Don Florencio. I thought that would secure your consent. Well, _mil mil gracias_! But what a game of cross-purposes we'll be playing;I for you, and you for me, and neither for ourselves! Let us hope wemay both win. "

By this the carriage had stopped in front of the Casa Valverde to setdown Dona Luisa. The Countess alighted also, ordering the horses home. It was but a step to her own house, and she could walk it. For she hadsomething more to say which required saying there and then. Passing oninto the _patio_, far enough to be beyond earshot of the "cochero, " andthere stopping, she resumed the dialogue at the point where she had leftoff. 

"We must set to work at once, " she said; "this very day, if opportunityoffer. Perhaps in the procession--"

"Oh! Ysabel?" interrupted the other. "How I dislike the thought ofthis procession--making merry as it were, and he in a prison! And wemust pass it too--its very doors! I'm sure I shall feel like springingout of the carriage and rushing inside to see him. "

"That would be just the way to ensure your not seeing him--perhaps, never more. The very opposite is what you must do, or you'll spoil allmy plans. But I'll instruct you better before we start out. "

"You insist, then, on our going?"

"Of course, yes; for the very reason--the very purpose we've beenspeaking of. That's just why I ask you to take me with you. It willnever do to offend his High Mightiness, angry as we may be with him. I'm now sorry at having shown temper; but how could I help it, hearingRuperto called a robber? However, that may be all for the best. So, upstairs; turn out your _guarda-roba_, and your jewel case; arrayyourself in your richest apparel, and be in readiness for the gildedcoach when it comes round. _Carramba_!" she added after drawing out herjewelled watch, --one of Losada's best--and glancing at its dial, "wehaven't a moment to spare, I must be off to my toilet too. "

She had made a step in the direction of the street, when suddenlyturning again she added--

"As a last word, lest I might forget it. When next you appear in theGrand Presence drop that forlorn doleful look. Misery is the weakestweapon either man or woman can make use of--the very worst advocate inany cause. So don't show it, especially in the company of Don CarlosSantander, where in all likelihood you will be before the end of anotherhour. Try to look cheerful, put on your sweetest smile, though it be afeigned one, as I intend doing for Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. "

She took her departure now; but as she passed out through the _saguan_ acloud could be seen upon her countenance, more than that from the shadowof the arched gateway, telling that she herself needed quite as much asher friend, admonition to be cheerful. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

IN THE SEWERS. 

Along with a score of other prisoners, the "chain-gang" of the Acordada, Kearney, Rock, Rivas, and the dwarf were conducted out into the street, and on the Calle de Plateros. Dominguez, the gaoler, went with them--having received orders to that effect--carrying a heavy _cuarta_ withhard raw-hide lash knotted at the end. Their escort consisted of two orthree files of the prison guard, dirty looking soldiers of the_infanteria_, in coarse linen uniforms, stiff shakoes on their heads, their arm the old-fashioned flint-lock musket. 

The scavengers had still their ankle chains on, coupled two and two, these lengthened, however, to give more freedom to their work. Onereason for keeping them chained is to economise the strength of theguard, a single sentry thus being as good as a dozen. Of course, it isan additional precaution against escape, a thing which might seemimpossible under the muzzles of muskets and bayonets fixed. But todesperadoes such as are some of the Acordada gaol-birds it would not beso if left leg free. More than once had the attempt been made, and withsuccess; for in no city is it easier, or indeed so easy. In the Mexicanmetropolis there are whole districts where the policeman fears to showhis face, and a criminal pursued, even by soldiers in uniform, wouldhave every door thrown open to him, and every opportunity given forstowing himself away. Get he but out into the country, and up to themountains--on all sides conveniently near--his chances are even better, since the first man there met may be either footpad or _salteador_. 

As said, the street to which the scavengers were taken was the Calle dePlateros, where it ends at the Alameda Gate. The covering flags of the_zancas_ had been already lifted off, exposing to view the drain brimfulof liquid filth the tools were beside--scoops, drags, and shovels havingbeen sent on before. 

Soon, on arriving on its edge, Dominguez, who kept close by the twocouples in which were the Tejanos, ordered them to lay hold and fall to. 

There could be no question of refusal or disobedience. From the way hetwirled the _quirt_ between his fingers it looked as though he wishedthere was, so that he might have an excuse for using it. Besides, anyhanging back would be rewarded by a blow from the butt of a musket, and, persisted in, possibly a bayonet thrust--like as not to lame therefractory individual for life. 

There was no need for such violent measures now. The others of the ganghad done scavenger work before; and knowing its ways, went at it as soonas the word was given. _Nolens volens_ Kearney and Cris Rock, withtheir chain partners, had to do likewise; though, perhaps, never manlaid hold of labourer's tool with more reluctance than did the Texan. It was a long shafted shovel that had been assigned to him, and thefirst use he made of the implement was to swing it round his head, asthough he intended bringing it down on that of one of the sentries whostood beside. 

"Durnashun!" he shrieked out, still brandishing the tool and looking thesoldier straight in the face. "If 'twarn't that the thing 'ud be o' nouse, an' _you_ ain't the one as is to blame, I'd brain ye on the spot, ye ugly yaller-belly. Wage! Let me get back to Texas, and grip o' agood rifle, the Mexikin as kums my way may look out for particklerforked lightnin'!"

Though not comprehending a word of what was said the little manikin of a_militario_ was so frightened by the big fellow's gestures as to springback several feet, with a look of alarm so intense, yet so comical, asto set the Texan off into a roar of laughter. And still laughing, hefaced towards the sewer, plunged in his implement, and set to work withthe others. 

At first the task was comparatively clean and easy--a sort of skimmingaffair--the scavengers keeping upon the pavement. The necessity had notyet arisen for them going down into the drain. 

After a time, however, as the liquid got lower and the sediment at thebottom too stiff to be _conveniently_ scooped up, a number of them wereordered to "step in. " It was a cruel, brutal order, and Bill Sykeswould have declined sending his "bull-dawg" into that sewer after rats. But Dominguez, a sort of Mexican Bill Sykes, had no scruples about thiswith the unfortunates he had charge of, and with a "_carajo_, " and athreatening flourish of his whip, he repeated the order. One or two ofthe _forzados_ took the plunge good-humouredly, even to laughing, asthey dropped into the stuff, waist deep, sending the mud in splashes allround. The dainty ones went in more leisurely, some of them needing alittle persuasion at the point of the bayonet. 

Cris Rock was already down, having gone voluntarily. Only one of eachcouple had been ordered below; and, much as he disliked the dwarf, hehad no wish to see him drowned or suffocated, which the diminutivecreature would well-nigh have been in the horrible cesspool. Tall asthe Texan was, the stuff reached up to his thighs, the surface of thestreet itself being on a level with his arm-pits, while only the headsof the others could be seen above the stones. 

Neither Kearney nor Rivas had yet taken the plunge. They still stood onthe brink, discussing the question of precedence. Not that eitherwished the other to do the disagreeable; instead, the reverse. Strangeas it may appear, knowing or believing him to be a bandit, the youngIrishman had taken a liking to the Mexican, and the feeling wasreciprocated, so that each was now trying to restrain the other fromentering the ugly gulf. 

But their friendly contest was cut short by the brutal gaoler; who, advancing, grasped Rivas by the shoulder, and with his other handpointing downward shouted "_Abajo_!"

There was no help for it but obey; the alternative sure of beingsomething worse. For the man so rudely commanded went down willingly;indeed, with alacrity, to satisfy his impulse of friendship for the_Irlandes_. 

Had Carlos Santander been there likely the position would have beenreversed, and Kearney compelled to "take the ditch. " But the Governorof the Acordada had control of details, and to his hostility and spleen, late stirred by that wordy encounter with Rivas, the latter was no doubtindebted for the partiality shown him by Don Pedro's head turnkey. 

In time, all were disposed of: one of each couple down in the sewer, pitching out its sweet contents; the other pressing them back upon thepavement to prevent their oozing in again. Either way the work was nownasty enough; but for those below, it was a task too repulsive to seteven the lowest pariah at. 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

THE PROCESSION. 

Disagreeable as was their job, some of the _forzados_ made light of it, bandying jests with the street passengers, who did not find it safe togo too near them. A scoopful of the inky liquid could be flung so as tospoil the polish on boots, or sent its splashes over apparel stillhigher. Even the vigilance of the sentries could not prevent this, orrather they cared not to exercise it. The victims of such practicaljokes were usually either of the class _felado_, or the yet more humbleaboriginals, accustomed to be put upon by the soldiers themselves, whorather relished the fun. 

But only the more abandoned of the gaol-birds behaved in this way, manyof them seeming to feel the degradation more than aught else. For amongthem, as we know, were men who should not have been there. Some mayhave seen friends passing by, who gave them looks of sympathy or pity, and possibly more than one knew himself under eyes whose expression toldof a feeling stronger than either of these--love itself. Indeed thislast, or something akin to it, seemed the rule rather than theexception. In Mexico, he must be a deeply disgraced criminal whosesweetheart would be ashamed of him; and every now and then, abrown-skinned "muchacha" might be seen crossing to where the scavengerswere at work, and, with a muttered word or two, passing something into ahand eagerly outstretched to receive it. The sentries permitted this, after examining the commodity so tendered, and seeing it a safe thing tobe entrusted to the receiver. These gifts of friendship, or _gagesd'amour_, were usually eatables from the nearest cook-shop; their donorswell knowing that the fare of the Acordada was neither plentiful norsumptuous. 

But beyond these interested ones, few of the pedestrians stopped or evenlooked at the chain-gang. To most, if not all, it was an ordinaryspectacle, and attracted no more attention than would a crossing-sweeperon a London street. Not as much as the latter, as he is often anOriental. On that particular day, however, the party of scavengerspresented a novelty, in having the two Tejanos in it; with a yet greaterone in the odd juxtaposition of Cris Rock and his diminutive "mate. " InMexico, a man over six feet in height is a rarity, and as Cris exceededthis by six inches, a rarer sight still was he. The colossus coupled tothe dwarf, as Gulliver to Lilliputian--a crooked Lilliputian at that--nowonder that a knot of curious gazers collected around them, many as theyapproached the grotesque spectacle uttering ejaculations of surprise. 

"_Ay Dios_!" exclaimed one. "_Gigante y enano_!" (a giant and adwarf)--"and chained together! Who ever saw the like?"

Such remarks were continually passing among the spectators, who laughedas they listened to them. And though the Texan could not tell what theysaid, their laughter "riled" him. He supposed it a slur upon hisextraordinary stature, of which he was himself no little proud, whilethey seemed to regard it sarcastically. Could they have had translatedto them the rejoinders that now and then came from his lips, like therumbling of thunder, they would have felt their sarcasm fully paid back, with some change over. As a specimen:--

"Devil darn ye, for a set of yaller-jawed pigmies! Ef I hed about amillyun o' ye out in the open purairu, I'd gie you somethin' to larf at. Dod-rot me! ef I don't b'lieve a pack o' coycoats ked chase as many o'ye as they'd count themselves; and arter runnin' ye down 'ud scorn toput tooth into yur stinkin' carcasses!"

Fortunately for him, the "yaller-jawed pigmies" understood not a word ofall this; else, notwithstanding his superior size and strength, he mighthave had rough handling from them. Without that, he was badly plaguedby their behaviour, as a bull fretted with flies; which may have hadsomething to do with his readiness to go down into the drain. There, upto his elbows, he was less conspicuous, and so less an object ofcuriosity. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had got to be noon, with the sun at fire heat; but for all the_forzados_ were kept on at work. No rest for them until the task shouldbe completed, and they taken back to their prison quarters at a latehour of the afternoon. The cruel gaoler told them so in a jeering way. He seemed to take a pleasure in making things disagreeable to them, ashe strutted to and fro along their line, flourishing his _quirt_, andgiving grand exhibition of his "brief authority. "

A little after midday, however, there came a change in their favour, brought by unlooked-for circumstances. Groups of people began to gatherin the Calle de Plateros, swarming into it from side streets, and takingstand upon the foot-walk. Soon they lined it all along as far as theeye could reach. Not _pelados_, but most of them belonging to a classrespectable, attired in their holiday clothes, as on a _dia de fiesta_. Something of this it was, as the scavengers were presently told, thoughsome of them may have had word of it before without feeling any concernabout it. Two, however, whom it did concern--though little dreamt theyof its doing so--were only made aware of what the crowd was collectingfor, when it began to thicken. These were Kearney and Rivas, who, knowing the language of the country, could make out from what was beingsaid around them that there was to be a _funcion_. The foundation-stoneof a new church was to be laid in the suburb of San Cosme the chiefmagistrate of the State himself to lay it--with all ceremony and asilver trowel. The procession, formed in the Plaza Grande, would, ofcourse, pass through the Calle de Plateros; hence the throng of thepeople in that street. 

_Funcions_ and _fiestas_ are of such frequent occurrence in the Mexicanmetropolis--as indeed everywhere else in that land of the _far niente_--that this, an ordinary one and not much announced, excited no particularinterest, save in the suburb of San Cosme itself--a quarter where achurch might be much needed, being a very den of disreputables. Still, a large number of people had put on their best apparel, and salliedforth to witness the procession. 

This did not delay long in showing itself. It came heralded by thestirring notes of a trumpet, then the booming of the big drum in a bandof music--military. A troop of cavalry--Lancers--formed the advance, toclear the way for what was to follow; this being a couple of carriages, in which were seated the Bishop of Mexico and his ecclesiastical staff, all in grand, gaudy raiments; on such an occasion the Church havingprecedence, and the post of honour. 

Behind came the gilded coach of the Dictator--flanked on each side byguards in gorgeous uniform--himself in it. Not alone, but with oneseated by his side, whose presence there caused Florence Kearneysurprise, great as he ever experienced in his life. Despite the coat ofdiplomatic cut and its glittering insignia, he easily recognised his_ci-devant_ teacher of the Spanish tongue--Don Ignacio Valverde. 

But great as was his astonishment, he was left no time to indulge in it, or speculate how his old "crammer" came to be there. For close behindthe Dictator's carriage followed another, holding one who had yet moreinterest for him than Don Ignacio--Don Ignacio's daughter!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

SIGNIFICANT GLANCES. 

Yes; the lady in the carriage was Luisa Valverde. Too surely she, thought Florence Kearney; for seeing her there was painful to him--ashock--as one who sees the woman he loves in the jaws of some greatdanger. And so he believed her to be, as a host of unpleasant memoriescame crowding into his mind like hideous spectres. No imaginationeither, but a danger real and present before his eyes at that moment, inthe person of a man, riding by the side of the carriage in which shesat--Carlos Santander. He it was, in a gold-laced uniform, with a smileof proud satisfaction on his face. What a contrast to the craven, crestfallen wretch who, under a coating of dull green ooze, crawled outof the ditch at Pontchartrain! And a still greater contrast in thecircumstances of the two men--fortunes, positions, apparel, everythingreversed. 

The Hussar colonel appeared not to be one of the regular escortsattending upon the Dictator, but detached, and free to choose his placein the procession. Well had he chosen it, any one would say; for therewas a second lady in the carriage, young and beautiful, too; as may beguessed--the Condesa Almonte. But he seemed to have no eyes for her, nor words; his looks and speech all bestowed upon Luisa Valverde. Forhe was smilingly conversing with her, and she appeared to listenattentively, returning his smiles!

A spectacle to Kearney not only saddening, but maddening. Through hissoul, dark as winter now, swept dire bitter misgivings. 

"Are they married? No. 'Tis not the behaviour of man and wife. Soonwill be--engaged, no doubt. Yes; he has won her heart, after all;likely had it then, when I believed it mine. Such deception? O God!"

These unspoken questions and conjectures passed through his mind rapidlyas thought itself. 

They were interrupted by his seeing the ladies--the carriage being nownearly abreast--turn their faces towards him in an odd interrogativeway. The movement, abrupt and sudden, seemed prompted; and so had itbeen by him on horseback. Florence Kearney saw him nod in thatdirection, his lips moving, but the distance was too great to hear whathe said. 

"_Mira! Los Tejanos_!" were Santander's words, indicating the group ofwhich they formed part. "One of them is, if I mistake not, an oldacquaintance of yours, Don Luisa? And how strange!" he added, feigningsurprise. "Chained to a criminal--no, let me not call him that--anindividual in whom the Condesa Almonte takes an interest, if rumour's tobe believed. Is it so, Condesa?"

Neither of them made response, for neither was now listening to him. Each had her eyes upon that which engrossed all her attention, onefixedly gazing at Florence Kearney, the other at Ruperto Rivas. For, bythe grace, or rather negligence, of their guards, the latter was now upon the pavement. 

What an interchange of glances between the pairs thus brought face toface! What a variety of expression upon their features! For varied andstrong were their emotions at this moment--surprise, sadness, sympathy, indignation, and, amidst all, conspicuous above all, looks of unchanged, ever-confiding love!

He who had brought about this odd interview--for it had beenpre-arranged--was riding on the left and near side of the carriage, thesewer being on the right and off; which, of course, placed him behindthe backs of the ladies as they now were, and hindered his observingtheir faces. Could he have seen them just then, he might have doubtedthe success of his scheme, and certainly could not have accounted it atriumph. For the eyes, late turned smilingly upon himself, were nowregarding Florence Kearney with earnest, sympathetic gaze. 

And the man, to whom this was given, was trying his best to interpretit. He saw that she turned pale as her eyes first fell upon him. Thatmight be but surprise seeing him there, with the consciousness of herown guilt. Or was it pity? If so, he would have spurned it. All thetortures the Acordada could inflict upon him, all the toil anddegradation would be easier to bear than that. But no. It could not bepity alone. The sudden start and paling cheek; the look of interest inthose eyes, beautiful as ever, and so well remembered; a flash in themthat recalled the old time when he believed her heart his; all spoke ofsomething more than mere sympathy with his misfortune. Before thecarriage, moving slowly on, had carried her out of his sight, thejealous fancies so late harrowing his soul, seemed to be passing away, as though an angel was whispering in his ear, "She loves you--stillloves you!"

Needless to say, he was too much occupied in reading the expression onLuisa Valverde's face to give even a look to the other beautiful onebeside it. And alike was he forgetful of the man who stood besidehimself. Yet, between these two neglected individuals, glances werebeing exchanged also in earnest, and watchful glances, which told oftheir being as much interested in one another as he in Luisa Valverde, or she in him. Better comprehending one another, too, as aphysiognomist could have told, observing the play of their features. The first expression on those of the Condesa was surprise, quickchanging to indignation, this as suddenly disappearing or becomingsubdued, restrained by a thought, or possibly a sign, given by her"dear, noble Ruperto. " As evinced by the fond, yet proud, sparkle ofher eyes, he was no less dear now, no less noble in that degrading garb, than when she knew him in a gold-laced uniform, splendid as that worn bySantander, and he, in her eyes, ten times more worthy of wearing it. Ifhe had turned bandit, she did not believe it; though, believing it, shewould have loved him all the same. Nor in this would she have so muchdiffered from the rest of her sex. Blameable as it may be, love--eventhat of a lady--has but little to do with the moralities; and of aMexican lady perhaps less than any other. Certain, that Ruperto Rivas, robber or no, in that crossing of glances with the Condesa Almonteshowed no sign of jealousy; instead, full confidence of being beloved byher. 

Though the account of this little episode seems long, the actualoccurrence--gestures, thoughts, looks, changes of facial expression--wasall comprised within a few seconds of time, scarce so much as a minute. 

Then the carriage containing the two ladies passed on out of sight, other carriages following, with other ladies in them; more cavalry--Lancers, Hussars, and heavy Dragoons--more music, mingling with theshouts and cheers of the fickle populace, as they swarmed along thefoot-walk, every now and then vociferating--

"_Viva, Santa Anna el Illustrissimo! Viva, el Salvador de la Patria_!"

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

A MYSTERIOUS MISSIVE. 

"O! Ysabel! To think of it! In the chain-gang--in the sewers! _Madrede Dios_!"

Thus passionately exclaimed Luisa Valverde, half addressing herself tothe Condesa Almonte in her father's house again, to which they had justreturned from the ceremony of the procession. They were in the _sala_, seated upon the chair, into which they flung themselves, as if overcomewith fatigue. 

And weariness it was, but not of the body. Their souls were a-weariedthrough being unable to give utterance to the thoughts and passions thatfor hours had been convulsing them. Ever since passing the chain-gangthey had been forced to keep up faces, seem as they felt not, smile whenthey could have wept. This the Condesa had counselled for reasonsalready hinted at; and now back home, with no one to see or hear, theywere giving way to the wild tumult of emotion so long pent up. 

For a time the Condesa made no rejoinder, herself as much affected asher friend. Both sat in despairing attitudes, heads drooped, and handsclasping them as though they ached; bosoms rising and falling inlaboured undulation, the hearts within them painfully pulsing. All sounlike themselves, in such discordance with their great beauty, and therich robes they wore. Looking at two such women, one could ill believeit possible for them to be otherwise than happy; yet, at that moment, both were miserable as misery itself. 

"Ah, yes!" sighed the Countess, at length, and like as if awakening fromsome weird dream, its impress still upon her face. "To think of it; andfearful it is to think of. I understand things better now. My Rupertois indeed in danger--more than I this morning believed. And yourFlorencio too. I could read his death in the eyes of Don CarlosSantander; and one told me the Tejanos are all to be shot!"

"O Ysabel, say not that! If they kill him, they may kill me! The man Ilove! Santa Guadalupe--Blessed Virgin! Save, oh, save him from such afate!"

Against the wall was a picture of this, the patroness Saint of Mexico--for there is one in every Mexican house--and, while speaking, the younggirl had risen from her chair, glided across the room, and fallen uponher knees before it. In this attitude she remained for some moments, her hands crossed over her breast, her lips moving as though shemuttered a prayer. 

Altogether differently acted the Condesa. She was not of the devotionalsort, where it seemed unlikely to be of practical service. GoodCatholic enough, and observant of all the ceremonies, but no believer inmiracles; and therefore distrustful of what Santa Guadalupe, or anyother saint, could do for them. She had more belief in the Cromwelliandoctrine of keeping the powder dry; and that she meant to practise it, not with powder, but with her purse, was soon made evident by herspeech. 

"It's no use kneeling there, " she said, starting to her feet, and againshowing spirit. "Let us pray in our hearts. I've been doing thatalready, and I'm sure so have you. Something else should be done now--another effort made--this time with money; no matter how much it takes. Yes, Luisa, we must act. "

"I want to act, " rejoined the other, as she forsook the kneelingposture, with an abruptness not common to devotees; "only tell me how. Can you?"

For some seconds the Condesa let the question remain unanswered. Oncemore her hand had gone up to her head, the jewelled fingers met andclasped upon her brow--this time to quicken reflection; some scheme, already half conceived, needing further elaboration. 

Whatever the plan, it was soon worked out complete, as evinced by herwords following. 

"_Amiga mia_; is there in your service one we can implicitly trust?"

"Jose. You know we can trust him. "

"True. But he won't do for the first step to be taken: which is, indeed, only to deliver a letter. But it needs being adroitly done, anda woman will be the better for that. Besides, Jose will be wanted forsomething else, at the same time. There are two or three of my ownfemale following could be relied on, so far as fidelity is concerned;but, unluckily, they're all known on the Calle de Plateros, as well asthe street itself; and there isn't any of them particularly intelligentor dexterous. What we stand in need of now is one possessed of boththese qualities--either woman or girl. "

"Would Pepita do?"

"You mean the little _mestizo_, who was with you at New Orleans?"

"The same. She's all that; and, besides, devoted to me. "

Don Ignacio's daughter had reason to know this, from experience in theCasa de Calvo, in which Pepita had played a part. 

"She'll do, " said the Countess; "the very individual, from what I'veseen of her. Get me pen, ink, and paper--quick! At the same timesummon Pepita!"

The Countess was now all action; and, responding to her roused energies, the other rushed towards the bell-pull, and gave it two or threevigorous jerks. 

As it chanced, there were writing materials in the room; and, whilewaiting for the bell to be answered, the Countess made use of them, hastily scribbling some words on a sheet of paper, which she foldedwithout putting into an envelope; instead, twisted it between herfinger, as if dissatisfied with what she had written, and designedcancelling it. Far from this her intention, as was soon made manifest. 

"_Muchacha_!" she said to Pepita, who, being lady's maid, had answeredthe bell herself. "Your mistress tells me you can be trusted on amatter which calls not only for confidence, but cleverness. Is thatso?"

"I can't promise the cleverness, your ladyship; but for the other, Ithink the Dona Luisa knows she can rely on me. "

"You'd be good at delivering a letter, without letting all the worldinto the secret, I suppose?"

"I'll do my best, your ladyship, if Duena command it. "

"Yes, I wish it, Pepita, " interposed Dona Luisa, herself the "Duena. "

"_Muy bien Senorita_. Into whose hands is it to be put?"

Though speaking direct to her own mistress, the interrogatory was moremeant for the Condesa, between whose fingers and thumb she saw the thingshe was to take charge of. 

The answer to her query called for some consideration. The note was forRuperto Rivas; but the girl knew him not; so how could she give it him?

Here was a difficulty not before thought of, for a time perplexing boththe ladies. In this case Dona Luisa was the first to see a way out ofit, saying in a whisper:--

"Let her give it to Florencio; she knows him, and he can--"

"_Carramba_!" exclaimed the Countess interrupting. "How wonderfullywise you are, _amiga_! The very thing! And it never occurred to me!No, _you_ tell her what to do. "

"This, Pepita, " said her mistress, taking the crumpled sheet from theCondesa, and passing it to her maid, "this is to be delivered to agentleman you've seen, and should know. "

"Where have I seen him, senorita?"

"In New Orleans. "

"Do you mean Don Carlos, my lady?"

"No;" the abrupt negative accompanied with a dissatisfied look. 

"Who then, senorita?"

"Don Florencio. "

"_Ay Dios_! Is he here? I did not know it. But where am I to findhim?"

No need to repeat the dialogue as continued. Suffice it that, beforeleaving the room, Pepita received full instructions where to find DonFlorencio, and when found what she was to do and say to him. 

So far all this was easy enough. More difficult the commission to beentrusted to Jose--more dangerous too. But it was made known to him inless than twenty minutes after; receiving his ready assent to itsexecution--though it should cost him his life, as he said. One motivefor his agreeing to undergo the danger was devotion to his youngmistress; another to stand well with Pepita, who had a power over him, and as he knew had entered upon her part with an ardent alacrity. Butthere was a third stimulus to keep up his courage, should it feel likefailing--this having to do with the Condesa. Drawing out her grand goldwatch--good value for a hundred _dollores_, and holding it up before hiseyes, she said:

"That's your reward, Jose; that or its worth in money. "

No need saying more. For the commission he was to execute muchpreparation was to be made, in all haste too. And in all haste he setto making it--determined to win the watch. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

THE PLAY OF EYES. 

The ceremony of laying the foundation-stone had been brief and it wasyet only an early hour of the afternoon when the procession passed backalong the Calle de Plateros. The scavengers were still at work, and itis scarcely necessary to say that two of their number were earnestly onthe lookout for a certain carriage. Sorry plight as they were in, neither felt ashamed or reluctant to come again under those eyes, afterthe expression they had observed in them. Rivas had hopes that inanother exchange of glances with the Condesa, he might see somethingstill further to instruct him; while Kearney, not so confident about hisinterpretation of those given to himself, longed to have a secondreading of them. 

Nor was he disappointed. The procession returned sooner than theyexpected, the looked-for carriage still holding its place in the line;the ladies in it, but now no officer of Hussars, nor any other, ridingalongside. Santander, an aide-de-camp as known, had likely been orderedoff on some official errand, and likely, too, his chief did not relishseeing him so near that particular equipage. Whatever the cause, hisabsence gave gratification to the two men noting it. With lessconstraint glances might now be exchanged--even gestures. 

And both were. The look Kearney had given to him was accompanied by anod of recognition; slight and timid, for it could not well be otherwiseunder the circumstances. But the eyes spoke more eloquently, tellinghim of respect undiminished, faith that had never faltered, love strongand true as ever. If he read pity in them too, it was not such as hewould now spurn. 

To Rivas were accorded signs of a very different sort. He had them notonly from eyes, but the movement of a fan and fingers. They seemedsatisfactory to him; for as the carriage passed out of sight, he turnedto the other and said in a cheerful whisper:

"Keep up heart, _camarado_! I perceive you're not unknown to a friendof my friend. You heard the brute of a gaol-governor taunt me about acertain Condesa?"

"I did. "

"Well; that's the lady, alongside her who's just been making eyes atyou. An old acquaintance of yours, I see; and I think I could say whereit was commenced. Never mind about that now. Enough for you to knowthat if friendship can get us out of this fix, with gold to back it, wemay yet have a chance of giving leg-bail to the turnkeys of theAcordada. "

Their dialogue was terminated by Dominguez, who, temporarily absent fora swill at one of the neighbouring _pulquerias_, now returned to thesuperintendence of his charge, and roughly commanded them to resumetheir work. 

For nearly another hour the work went on, though not so regularly asbefore. The stream of returning sightseers still lined the foot-walks, many of them showing by their behaviour they had been paying a visit to_pulquerias_ too, and more than once. Some stopped to fraternise withthe soldiers, and would have done likewise with the _forzados_, ifpermitted. They were not hindered, however, from holding converse withthe former, and extending hospitality to them in the shape of treats;sentry after sentry stealing away from his post after the proffered andcoveted toothful. Nor was Dominguez an exception, he too every now andthen repeating his visit to the dram-shop. 

All this gave the scavengers licence of speech, with some liberty ofaction, or rather rest from their disagreeable task. And in theinterval, while they were thus idling, the young Irishman noticed thatthe eyes of his chain companion were kept continuously on thefoot-walks, now on one side now the other, his face towards the PlazaGrande--as though he expected to see some one coming that way. Kearneyhimself was regarding the people who came along--but only fromcuriosity--when his attention was more particularly drawn to one who hadcome to a stop on the sidewalk nearly opposite. This was a girl ofrather diminutive stature, dressed in the ordinary fashion of the commonpeople, short-skirted petticoat, sleeveless _camisa_, arms, ankles, andfeet bare; but the head, breast, and shoulders all under one covering--the _reboso_. Even her face was hidden by this, for she was wearing it"tapado, " one eye only visible, through a little loop in the foldedscarf, which was kept open by the hand that held it. The girl had drawnup in front of a jeweller's window, as though to feast that eye on thepretty things therein displayed. And thus Kearney would not havenoticed her, any more than the others, many of them in like garb passingto and fro. But, just as his eye happened to light upon her, he sawthat hers--literally a single one--was fixed upon him, regarding him ina way altogether different from that which might be expected on the partof a chance stranger. Her attitude, too, was odd. Though facing nearlysquare to the shop window, and pretending to look into it, her head wasslightly turned, and the eye surely on him. 

At first he was puzzled to make out what it could mean, and why the girlshould be taking such an interest in him. Possibly, had she beenwearing shoes and stockings, he might have come easier to thecomprehension of it. But a little brown-skinned, barefooted _muchacha_, in a petticoat of common stuff, and cheap scarf over her shoulders, hecould think of no reason why she should have aught to do with him. 

Only for a few seconds, however, was he thus in the dark. Then allbecame clear, the _eclaircissement_ giving him a start, and sending theblood in quick rush through his veins--pleasant withal. For the girl, seeing she had caught his attention, relaxed her clasp upon the scarf, partially exposing her face, and the other eye. 

Kearney needed not seeing the whole of it for recognition now. Wellremembered he those features--pretty in spite of the dark skin--he hadoften seen wreathed with pleasant smiles, as their owner used to openthe door for him in the Casa de Calvo. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

A LETTER DEXTEROUSLY DELIVERED. 

Pepita it was, though in a different style of dress to what he had beenaccustomed to see her in; as at New Orleans she had not kept to hernational costume. Besides, there was a _soupcon_ of shabbiness abouther present attire, and then the shoeless feet!

"Dismissed the Valverde service--out of a situation--poor girl!"

He would not have so pityingly reflected, had he seen her as she was buta short half-hour before, in a pretty muslin dress, snow-whitestockings, and blue satin slippers. Since then she had made a change inher toilet under direction and by help of the Condesa, who had attiredher in a way more befitting the task intended. 

Kearney, in full belief of her being a discharged servant, rememberingher many little kindnesses to himself in the Casa de Calvo, was about tocall her up, and speak a word of sympathy for old time's sake. Dominguez was still absent, and the nearest sentry engaged in a chaffingencounter with some one in the crowd. 

Just then he observed a slight tremor of her head, and with a suddenmovement of the hand which seemed to say, "No, don't speak to me. " She, too, could talk that mute language, so well understood in her country. 

So restrained, he kept silent; to see her now glance furtively around, as if to make sure no one else was observing her. She had again closedthe scarf over her face, but in the hand that held it under her chinsomething white--a piece of paper he supposed--appeared; just for oneinstant, then drawn under. Another significant look accompanied thisgesture, saying plain as word could speak it:--

"You see what I've got for you; leave the action all to me. "

He did, for he could not do otherwise; he was fixed to this spot, shefoot free. And the use she now made of this freedom was to walkstraight out into the street, though not as coming to him; instead, hersteps, as her eyes were directed towards Cris Rock and the hunchback, who were at work some paces further on. She seemed bent on making acloser inspection of the odd pair, nor would any one suppose she hadother object in crossing over to them. No one did, save Kearneyhimself. Rivas had been again ordered into the sewer, and was at workin it. Besides, he did not know Pepita, though he was the one she mostwished to be near. Chiefly for him was the communication she had tomake. 

It could not be, however, without a demonstration likely to be observed, therefore dangerous. But her wit was equal to the occasion, proving howwell the ladies had chosen their letter-carrier. 

"_Ay Dios_!" she exclaimed aloud, brushing past the young Irishman, andstopping with her eyes bent wonderingly on the strangely contrastedcouple; then aside in _sotto voce_ to Kearney, whom she had managed toplace close behind her, apparently unconscious of his being there--"A_billetita_, Don Florencio--not for you--for the Senor Rivas--you cangive it him--I daren't. Try to take it out of my hand without beingseen. " Then once more aloud. "_Gigante y enano_!" just as others hadsaid, "_Rue cosa estranja_!" (what a strange thing). 

She need not say any more, nor stay there any longer. For while she wasspeaking the crumpled sheet had passed through the fringe of the scarf, out of her fingers into those of Don Florencio, who had bent him to hiswork bringing his hand to the right place for the transfer. 

Her errand, thus vicariously accomplished with another wondering look atthe giant and dwarf, and another "_Ay, Dios_!" she turned to go back tothe side walk. But before passing Kearney she managed to say somethingmore to him. 

"Carriage will come along soon--two ladies in it--one you know--one dearto you as you to her. "

Sweet words to him, though muttered, and he thanked her who spoke them--in his heart. He dared not speak his thanks, even in whisper; she wasalready too far off, tripping back to the flagged foot-walk, along whichshe turned, soon to disappear from his sight. 

What she had said about the coming of a carriage was to Kearney notaltogether intelligible. But, no doubt, the note, now concealed insidehis shirt bosom would clear that up; and the next step was to hand itover to him for whom it was intended. 

Luckily, Rivas had not been unobservant of what was going on between thegirl and his companion. Her look seeming strange to him, had attractedhis attention, and though keeping steadily at work, his eyes were not onit, but on them, which resulted in his witnessing the latter part of thelittle episode, and having more than a suspicion it also concernedhimself. He was not taken by surprise, therefore, when Kearney, drawingcloser to the edge of the drain, spoke down to him in a half-whisper--

"I've got something for you. Bring the point of your tool against mine, and look out when you feel my fingers. "

"_Muy bien_! I understand, " was the muttered response. 

In a second or two after the shafts of their implements came intocollision accidentally, it appeared. He would indeed have beensharp-witted who could have supposed it intentional, and lynx-eyed tohave seen that scrap of twisted paper passed from one to the other--thesecond transfer dexterously done as the first. All any one could havetold was, that the two scavengers seemed sorry for what had occurred, made mutual apologies, then separated to the full length of theircoupling-chain, and went to work again, looking meek and innocent aslambs. 

It was now Rivas' turn to prove himself possessed of quick wit. He hadreason to think the letter required immediate reading; and how was thisto be done? To be seen at it would surely bring the sentries upon him, even though Dominguez was not there. And for them to get possession ofit--that was a calamity perhaps worst of all! Possibly to compromisethe writer; and well knew he who that was. 

For a time he was perplexed, looking in all directions, and thinking ofevery way possible for him to read the letter unobserved. But none didseem possible. He could stoop down, so as to be unseen by those passingalong the sidewalk; but close to the sewer's edge were two or three ofthe sentries, who would still command view of him. 

All at once a look of satisfaction came over his countenance, as hiseyes rested on a side drain, which entered the main one, like manyothers, from adjacent dwellings. He had just scraped the mud out of itsmouth, and was close to it. 

The very thing, was his thought--the very place for his purpose. Andshortly after he might have been seen standing before it, in bentattitude, his arms busy with his shovel, but his eyes and thoughtsbusier with a sheet of paper which lay at the bottom of the branchdrain, some two or three feet inside it. It was the _billetita_, andthough the creases were but hastily pressed out, he contrived to makehimself master of its contents. They were but brief and legiblywritten--the script familiar to him. 

"Querido, --Soon after receiving this--say, half an hour--look for acarriage--landau shut up--two ladies inside--pair of largehorses--_frisones_--grey. When opposite, be ready--with him who sharesyour chain. Leave manners in the mud--make a rush, storm the carriage, eject the occupants rudely--violently--and take their places. You cantrust the _cochero_. Some danger in the attempt, I know; but more ifnot made. Your old enemy implacable--determined to have your life. Dothis, dearest, and save it--for your country's sake, as also that ofYsabel. "

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

LOOKING OUT FOR A LANDAU. 

From the way Rivas treated the "billetita" after he had finished readingit, one unacquainted with its contents might have supposed they had madehim either mad angry, or madly jealous. Instead of taking it uptenderly, and treasuring it away, he planted his muddy boot upon it, with a back scrape brought it into the main sewer, still keeping itunder the mud and trampling it with both feet, lifted and set downalternately, the while shovelling away, as though he had forgotten allabout it. Not so, however. The tread-mill action was neitheraccidental nor involuntary, but for a purpose. The writer had committedherself in sub-signing a portion of her name, as by other particulars, and should the letter fall into hands he knew of, her danger would be asgreat as his own. 

In a few seconds, however, any uneasiness about this was at an end. Themost curious _chiffonier_ could not have deciphered a word written onthat sheet, which by the churning he had submitted it to must have beenreduced to a very pulp. 

During all this time no one had taken notice of his proceedings, noteven the man chained to him, except by an occasional side glance. ForKearney, well aware of what he was at, to draw attention from him hadgot up a wordy demonstration with the dwarf--to all appearance aquarrel. There was real anger on the side of the latter; for the"gringo, " as he contemptuously called the Irishman, had cruelly mockedhis deformity. A cruelty which gave pain to the mocker himself; but hecould think of no other way to secure inattention to Rivas, and thisefficiently did. Both talking the tongue of the country, their war ofwords, with some grotesque gestures which Kearney affected, engrossedthe attention of all within sight or hearing; so that not an eye wasleft for the surreptitious reader of the letter. 

When the sham quarrel came to an end--which it did soon as he whocommenced it saw it should--the knot of spectators it had drawn arounddispersed, leaving things as before. But not as before felt Rivas andKearney. Very different now the thoughts stirring within them, bothtrying to appear calm while under the greatest agitation. For they hadagain contrived to bring their ears together, and the latter now knewall about the contents of the Condesa's letter, their purport beingfully explained, nor did they draw apart, till a thorough understandinghad been established between them as to the action they should take. 

All this without loss of time was translated to Cris Rock, who was toldalso of their resolve to attempt to escape, in which the Texan was buttoo glad to take part. Kearney would have stayed there, and gone backinto the Acordada, loathsome gaol though it was, sooner than leave hisold filibustering comrade behind. He could never forget the incident ofEl Salado, nor cease to feel gratitude to the man who had offered togive up life for him. 

But there was no need for Rock being left behind. Rivas himself wishedit otherwise, for more than one reason; but one good one, that insteadof obstructing their escape he would be an aid to it. 

The hunchback alone was not let into their secret. No doubt he toowould be glad to get free from his chains, since he was under a sentenceof imprisonment for life. But who could tell whether at the last momenthe might not purchase pardon by turning out and betraying them? Theyknew him to be vile enough even for that, and so kept him in the darkabout their design. 

There was no need of further premeditation or contrivance of plans. That had all been traced out for them in the singular epistle signed"Ysabel, " and a few whispered words from one to the other completed theunderstanding of it, with what was to be done. From the time this wassettled out, never looked three pair of eyes more eagerly along a streetthan did theirs along the Calle de Plateros; never was a carriage moreanxiously awaited than a landau which should show itself with hood up, drawn by a pair of grey horses. 

It is now well on the afternoon, and the "beauty and fashion" of theMexican metropolis were beginning to appear in carriages, with chivalryon horseback, along the line of streets leading to the Paseo Nuevo. Theprocession of the morning would little affect the usual evening display;and already several equipages had rolled past the place where thechain-gang was at work. But as yet appeared not the one so anxiouslylooked-for, and the half-hour was up!

Still ten minutes more without any sign of it!

More anxious now were the three prisoners, who contemplated escape, though not at all to the same degree, or for the same reason. Kearneyfeared there had been a failure, from betrayal by the coachman spoken ofas so trustworthy; he did not think of suspecting Pepita. The Texan, too, believed some hitch had occurred, a "bit o' crooked luck, " as heworded it. Not so Rivas. Though, as the others, chafing at the delay, he still had confidence in the carriage coming, as he had in thedirecting head of one he expected to see inside it. It was beingpurposely kept back, he fancied; likely as not, lest it might attractattention by being too early on the street. 

Whatever the cause, his conjectures were soon brought to an end--andabruptly--by seeing the thing itself. 

"_Bueno_!" he mentally exclaimed, then muttering to the others--"Yonderit comes! _Frisones pardes_ coachman in sky-blue and silver--be ready_camarados_. "

And ready they were, as panthers preparing to spring. Rock and Rivas, as Kearney himself, were now out of the sewer and up on the street; allthree still making believe to work; while the dwarf seemed to suspectthere was something in the wind, but could not guess what. 

He knew the instant after, when a strong hand, grasping him by thecollar, lifted him off his feet, raising and tossing him further aloft, as though he had been but a rat. 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

A CLUMSY COCHERO. 

Perhaps no people in the world have been more accustomed to spectacularsurprises than they who perambulate the streets of the Mexicanmetropolis. For the half-century preceding the time of which I write, they had witnessed almost as many revolutions as years, seen bloodspilled till the stones ran red with it, and dead bodies lying beforetheir doors often for hours, even days, unremoved. As a consequence, they are less prone to curiosity than the dwellers in European cities, and the spectacle or incident that will stir their interest in any greatdegree must needs be of an uncommon kind. 

Rare enough was that they were called on to witness now--such of them aschanced to be sauntering along the Calle de Plateros, where thechain-gang was at work. They first saw a carriage--a handsome equipageof the landau speciality--drawn by a pair of showy horses, and driven bya coachman in smart livery, his hat cockaded, proclaiming the owner ofthe turnout as belonging to the military or diplomatic service. Onlyladies, however, were in it--two of them--and the horses proceeding at arather leisurely pace. As several other carriages with ladies in them, and liveried coachmen on the boxes, had passed before, and some seencoming behind, there was nothing about this one to attract particularattention; unless, indeed, the beauty of the two "senoritas" inside, which was certainly exceptional. Both were young, and, if related, notlikely to be sisters; in contour of features, complexion, colour of eyesand hair, everything different, even to contrast. But alike in thateach after her own style was a picture of feminine loveliness of themost piquantly attractive kind; while their juxtaposition made it allthe more so, for they were seated side by side. 

Such could not fail to draw the eyes of the street passengers upon them, and elicit looks of admiration. So far from courting this, however, they seemed desirous of shunning it. The day was one of the finest, theatmosphere deliciously enjoyable, neither too warm nor too cold; othercarriages were open, yet the hoods of theirs met overhead, and theglasses were up. Still, as these were not curtained they could be seenthrough them. Some saw who knew them, and saluted; gentlemen by raisingthe hat, lady acquaintances by a nod, a quivering of the fingers. Forit was the hour of promenade to the Alameda. Others to whom they wereunknown inquired whose carriage it was. But not a few noticed in thefaces of its fair occupants an expression which struck them as singular;something of constraint or anxiety--the last so unlike what should havebeen there. 

And so all along the line of street, until the carriage came nearlyopposite the entrance gate of the Alameda, still going slowly; at whichthe pampered, high-spirited horses seemed to chafe and fret. Just then, however, they showed a determination to change the pace, or at allevents the direction, by making a sudden start and shy to the right;which carried the off wheels nearly nave-deep into the ridge of mudrecently thrown out of the sewer. 

Instinctively, or mechanically, the coachman pulled up. No one couldsuppose designedly; since there was sufficient likelihood of his havingan overturn. Still, as the mud was soft, by bearing on the near rein, with a sharp cut of the whip, he might easily clear the obstruction. 

This was not done; and the spectators wondered why it was not. They hadalready made up their minds that the balk was due to the coachman'smaladroit driving, and this further proof of his stupidity quiteexhausted their patience. Shouts assailed him from all sides, jeers, and angry ejaculations. 

"_Burro_!" (donkey) exclaimed one; a second crying out, "What a clumsy_cochero_!" a third, "You're a nice fellow to be trusted with reins! Arope tied to a pig's tail would better become you?"

Other like shafts, equally envenomed, were hurled at Josh's head; for itscarce needs telling that he was the driver of the carriage, and theladies inside it his mistress and the Condesa Almonte. For all heseemed but little to regard what was being said to him--indeed nothing, having enough on hand with his restive horses. But why did he not givethem the whip, and let them have more rein! It looked as if that wouldstart them off all right again, and that was what every one was shoutingto him to do, he instead doing the very opposite, holding the animals intill they commenced plunging. 

The ladies looked sorely affrighted; they had from the first, for it wasall but the occurrence of an instant. Both had risen to their feet, onetugging at the strap to get the sash down, the other working at thehandle of the door, which perversely refused to act, all the whileuttering cries of alarm. 

Several of the passengers rushed to the door in the near side to assistthem, that on the off being unapproachable by reason of the open drain. But on this also appeared rescuers--a pair of them--not streetpromenaders, but two of the chain-gang! All muddy as these were, theywere advancing with as much apparent eagerness as the others--more inreality--to release the imperilled senoritas. A proof that humanity mayexist even in the breast of a gaol-bird; and the spectators, pleasedwith an exhibition of it, so rare and unexpected, were preparing toapplaud them enthusiastically. 

Their admiration, however, received a rude and almost instantaneouscheck, changing to wild astonishment, succeeded by equally wildindignation. The _forzados_ got their door open first; but the ladies, apparently terrified at the rough, unclean creatures, refused to go outthat way, and only shrank back. Luckily, the other was by this alsoopened, and they made through it into the street. But not before thetwo scavengers had leaped up into the carriage beside them, and, as ifangry at their earlier offer being declined, given them a rude shoveoutward!

That was not all the spectators saw to astonish them. Other incidentsfollowed equally unlooked-for, and with lightning rapidity. One wasindeed of simultaneous occurrence; a second couple of the scavengers--the _gigante y enano_--rushing towards the coachman's box, clambering upto it, Rock flinging the dwarf before him as one would an oldcarpet-bag, and mounting after. Then, jerking the reins and whip out ofJosh's hands--letting him still keep his seat, however, --he loosened theone, and laid the lash of the other on the horses' hips, so sharply andvigorously, as to start them at once into a gallop. 

Meanwhile, the uncouth couple inside had pulled-to the doors, shuttingthemselves in, and taken the seats late occupied by the elegantlydressed ladies--a transformation so grotesque as to seem more dream thanreality. And so off all went, leaving behind a crowd as much amazed asany that ever witnessed spectacle on the streets of the Mexicanmetropolis. 

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

THE POOR LADIES. 

Quite a combination of circumstances had favoured the escape of the four_forzados_--the balking of the horses, the absence of Dominguez, and therelaxed vigilance of the guards--from their brains bemuddled with drink. But there was yet another lucky chance that stood them in stead--thepoint from which they had started. The line of sentries ended at theAlamedas Gate, and, as the one posted there was he who had them inparticular charge, once past him they had only to fear a single bulletsent after them. 

As it turned out, they did not even get that, fortune favouring them inevery way. This sentry, though last on the line outward, was the firstencountered by the people returning from the ceremony at San Corme;therefore made most of by passing friends, with the bottle oftenerpresented to his lips. As a consequence, when the carriage whirled pasthim he had but an indistinct idea of why it was going so fast, and noneat all as to who were in it. With eyes drowned in _aguardiente_ hestood as one dazed, looking after, but taking no measures to stop it. When at length some one bawled the truth into his ear and he brought hisflint-lock to an unsteady level, it would have been too late--had thepiece gone off. Luckily for those on the sidewalk, it did not; missingfire by a flash in the pan, as might have been anticipated. 

Never were sentries more completely taken by surprise than they guardingthe chain-gang. Nor more disagreeably. They knew they had beenneglecting their duty, and might expect severe punishment! possibly setat the very task they were now superintending! Still, they made noattempt to pursue. They were not cavalry; and only mounted men couldovertake that landau with its curious load, soon to vanish from theirsight. So they stood gazing after it in helpless bewilderment, theirfaces showing a variety of expressions, surprise, anger, fear, mingledin a most ludicrous manner. Deserting their posts they had gatheredinto a knot, and it was some time before they had so far recovered theirsenses as to think of despatching one of their number to the PlazaGrande after cavalry sure to be there. 

It was a fine opportunity for others of the gaol-birds to make a bolt;but for the obstructive coupling-chains no doubt some would availthemselves of it. These, however, hindered the attempt. There were nomore restive horses, nor blundering coachmen to bring another carriagenear enough for a rush. 

But the most interesting group now on the ground was that which hadcollected round the ladies left carriage-less; some offering services, others speaking words of sympathy. "_Las senoritas pobres_!"

"_Pobrecitas_!"--("The poor young ladies!" "Poor things!") wereexclamations uttered over and over again. 

It was a trying situation for the "poor things" to be in, sure enough. But they acquitted themselves admirably; especially the Condesa, who, young though she was, for courage and coolness had few to equal her. Inthat emergency no man could have shown himself her superior. Her lookof still untranquillised terror, the intermittent flashes of anger inher eyes as she loudly denounced the ruffians who had carried off theircarriage, was a piece of acting worthy of a Rachel or Siddons. He wouldhave been a keen physiognomist who could have told that her emotionswere counterfeit. Little dreamt the sympathising spectators that whilebeing pushed out of the carriage she had contrived to whisper back tothe man so rudely behaving: "Look under the cushions, _querido_! You'llfind something. _Dios te guarda_!"

Still less could they have supposed that the other young lady, lookingso meek, had at the same time spoken tender words to the second ruffianwho had assailed them. 

The part the _pobrecitas_ were playing, with the sympathy they received, seemed to themselves so comically ludicrous that, but for its seriousside, neither could have kept countenance. Alone the thought of thelovers not yet being beyond danger hindered their bursting out intolaughter. 

And lest this, too, might cease to restrain them they seized upon theearliest pretext to get away from the spot. 

Glad were they when some of their gentlemen acquaintances, who chancedto be passing the place, came up and proposed escorting them home. Aservice accepted and, it need not be said, offered with as much alacrityas it was received. 

Their departure had no effect in dispersing the crowd which had gatheredby the Alamedas Gate. A spot signalised by an episode so odd andoriginal, was not to be forsaken in that quick inconsiderate way. Instead, the throng grew quicker, until the street for a long stretchwas packed full of people, close as they could stand. Only one part ofit remained unoccupied, the central list showing the open sewer with itsbordering of black mud. In their holiday attire the populace declinedinvading this, though they stood wedging one another along its edge;their faces turned towards it, with hilarity in their looks and laughteron their lips. It was just the sort of spectacle to please them; thesentries in a row--for they had now sneaked back to their post--appearing terribly crestfallen, while those over whom they stood guardseemed, on the contrary, cheerful--as though expecting soon to bereleased from their chains. With them it was the _esprit de corps_ ofthe galley slave, glad to see a comrade escape from their common misery, though he cannot escape himself. 

All this, however, was tame; but the winding up of the spectacle in aquiet natural way. It would soon have been over now, and the sightseersscattered off to their homes; but just as they were beginning to retire, a new incident claimed their attention. A scene almost as exciting asany that had preceded, though only a single personage appeared in it. This Dominguez, the gaoler, who had been absent all the while at his_pulqueria_, and only just warned of the event that had so convulsed theCalle de Plateros, breaking through the crowd like an enraged bull, rushed along the sewer's edge, nourishing his whip over the heads of the_forzados_, at the same time reviling the sentries for their scandalousneglect of duty! To tell the truth, he was more troubled about his own. He had received particular instructions to be watchful of fourprisoners--the very ones that had escaped. Well might he dread thereckoning in store for him on return to the gaol. However could he facehis governor?

For some time he strode to and fro, venting his drunken spleen alike onsoldiers or scavengers. Some of the former would have retaliated; butthey knew him to have authority in high places, and therefore keptsilent, sullenly enduring it. Not so the spectators, many of whom, knowing, hated him. Possibly, more than probably, some of them had beenunder his care. But to all he was now affording infinite amusement. They laughed at his impotent anger, and laughed again, one crying out, "He's as good as a bull in a ring!" another exclaiming, "_Viva el SenorDominguez rey de las bastoneros_!" ("Hurrah for the Senor Dominguez, king of the turnkeys!")--a sally which elicited roars of applaudinglaughter. 

If angry before, he was now infuriated. Purple in the face, he wasmaking a dash at the man whom he suspected of mocking him, when his footslipped and down he went into the drain head foremost. 

He had altogether disappeared, and was for some seconds out of sight;the laughter, which had become a yelling chorus, all the whilecontinuing. Nor did it cease when he re-appeared; instead, was louderand more uproarious than ever. For his face, late blue with rage, wasnow black with a limning of the sewer liquid. 

But he was less mad than sad, after the ill-timed tumble. The _douche_had tamed, if not sobered him; and his only thought now was how to getaway from that place of repeated discomfitures, anywhere to hide andwash himself. 

Luck declared for him at last, in the approach of a squadron of Hussars, drawing off from him the eyes of the spectators; who had now enough todo looking out for themselves and their safety. For the Hussars werecoming on at a gallop, with drawn sabres. 

A crush and a scampering followed, as they forced their way through thecrowd, shouting, and striking with the back of their blades. After theyhad passed, the people were no longer in a humour for laughing at the"King of the turnkeys, " nor any one else; neither was he there to belaughed at. 

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

A TRANSFORMATION. 

While the ladies set down upon the street were still plaintivelyappealing to those around, the carriage from which they had been sounceremoniously ejected was tearing along the Calle de San Francisco, going direct for the Acordada! But nothing could be farther from thethoughts of those in it than a return to that grand gaol, or evenapproaching its door. All of them knew there was a regular guard there;and instead of a single musket missing fire, they would more likely besaluted with a full volley, sending a shower of bullets about theirears. Bad marksmen as the Mexican soldiers are, they could not allmiss. But even if they passed through that unscathed, beyond was the_garita_ of San Cosme, with another guard there. Indeed, go what waythey would, there was none leading out into the country without a_garita_ to be got through--and for the country they were aiming. 

In these gates, however, there was a difference as to the strength oftheir guard detail, and the possibilities of their being passed. All ofwhich one of the fugitives well understood--Rivas, who, as a matter ofcourse, had assumed direction of everything relating to their flight. When opposite the old convent, which gives its name to the street, heleaned his head out of the carriage window, and said to the _cochero_:--

"Take the route by El Nino Perdido. You know the way; show it to him. "

The "him" was Cris Rock, who still had hold of the reins, and who, notunderstanding Spanish, could not be addressed direct. 

The result of the order was, that shortly after, the horses were headedinto a side street, indicated to the Texan by a nod perceptible only tohimself. It would not do for the real coachman to appear as aidingtheir escape; though there was no danger of the dwarf observing it--thelatter having been crammed down into the boot--where he was held withhis head between Rock's huge thighs, as in a vice. 

The street into which they had turned was a narrow one running along adead wall--that of the ancient monastery, which occupies acres ofground. And in its strip of sidewalk just then there was not apedestrian to be seen--the very thing Rivas had been wishing for. Againspeaking out, he said:--

"Slowly for a bit. I see a _seraph_ out there. Tell the Tejanos to putit on. "

For the next hundred yards or so--along the dead wall--the horses wentat a walk, they inside the carriage, as also one on the box, all thewhile busy as bees. And when they came out at the end of the quietstreet entering upon a more frequented thoroughfare, the brisk pace wasresumed; though no one could have believed it the same party, seen but aminute or two before driving at a racecourse speed along the Calle dePlateros. Jose alone looked the same, in his sky-blue livery andcockaded hat. But the big man by his side had so far effected a changethat his mud-stained habiliments were hidden under an ample _seraph_, which covered him from neck to ankles; while the little one wasaltogether invisible, and under a threat of having his skull kicked inif he attempted to show himself. 

Alike quick and complete had been the transformation of the "insides. "There now sat two gentlemen, decently, indeed rather stylishly dressed--one wearing a blue cloth cloak with velvet collar; the other a scarlet"manga, " with gold bullion embroidery from neck to shoulders. 

About the equipage there was little now to make remark upon, or cause itto be regarded with suspicion. Some rich _haciendado_, who had been atthe laying of the foundation-stone, on return to his country house, taking a friend along with him. The strapping fellow on the box mightbe mayor-domo of the estate--they are usually tall men--who had taken afancy to try his hand at driving, and the coachman had surrendered himthe reins. All perfectly natural, and _en regle_, even to the rapidspeed at which the horses were put. The driver not accustomed tohandling the ribbons would account for this. Besides, the sun wasgetting low, the _casa de campo_ might be a good distance from town, andsuch a splendid turnout, belated on a country road would be liketempting Providence, and certainly the _salteadores_!

How little would its occupants have regarded an encounter withhighwaymen. Perhaps just then they would have welcomed it. Nor muchdid Rivas anticipate further trouble in the streets of the city. He wasfamiliar with those they were now driving along, and felt no fear ofbeing obstructed there--at least by the people. Had they hung theirchain out of the carriage window and exposed the prison dress, no one inthat quarter would have cried "Stop thief!" The man who should so cry, would run the risk of having his clamour suddenly silenced. 

For all they had apprehensions of the keenest. If they were in nodanger while in the streets, they would be when parting from them--at ElNino Perdido. That gauntlet had yet to be run. 

But while thinking of it, they had not been idle; instead, all the whileplanning and preparing for it; Rivas instructing the others as to howthey should act. 

"A _garita_ of the usual kind, " he said to Kearney, making known thenature of the anticipated obstruction; "a gate across the road, with aguard-house alongside. There's sure to be a sergeant and eight or tenfiles in it. If, by good luck, the gate be open, our best way will beto approach gently, then go through at a gallop. If shut, we'll becalled upon to show our best diplomacy. Leave all that to me. Failingto fool the guard, we must do battle with it. Anything's better than betaken back to the Acordada. That would be sure death for me; and, if Imistake not, for yourself, Senor. "

"I'm sure of it. If we can't get through without, let us fight our way, whatever the result. "

"Take this pair, then. They seem the most reliable. You _Americanos_are more skilled in the use of fire-arms than we. With us steel ispreferred. But I'll do the best I can with the other pair. "

This had reference to two pairs of pistols discovered under the carriagecushions. Nor were they the only weapons there; besides them were twolong-bladed knives, and a pearl-handled stiletto--the last a tinyaffair, which looked as though taken from the toilet case of a lady. 

"See that yours are loaded and in firing order, " Rivas added, at thesame time looking to his own. 

The injunction was not needed, as the Irishman was already examining theweapons put into his hand, with a view to their efficiency. 

Both pair of pistols were of the old-fashioned duelling kind--flintlocks, with barrels nearly a foot in length. Like as not theCondesa's father and Don Ignacio Valverde, in days long gone by, hadvindicated honour with them. 

The inspection was quick and short, as had been all that preceded; panssprung open, showing them filled with powder; rammers run into thebarrels, then drawn out again, and replaced in their thimbles. 

"Mine, " said Kearney, first to report, "are good for two lives. "

"And mine the same, " rejoined Rivas, "unless I'm laid low before I canpull the second trigger. Now to dispose of the knives. My countryman, the _cochero_, however trustworthy, mustn't show fight. That would ruinall afterwards. But, if I mistake not, your colossal comrade is the manto make play with one of them in a pinch. "

"You may be sure of it. He was in the Alamo with Bowie, and at Goliadwith Fanning. Don't fear putting a knife into his hands; he'll makegood use of it if we're driven to close quarters. "

"Let him have it, then. You give it, and tell him all. "

Kearney getting hold of one of the two knives, that seeming best suitedfor the hands he designed putting it in, passed it on to Cris Rock--notthrough the carriage window, but a hole cut in the leathern hood by theblade itself. Speaking through the same, he said--

"Cris! we've got to run a gate where there's a guard of soldiers--maybea dozen or so. You're to drive gently up, and, if you see it open, passthrough--then lay on the whip. Should it be shut, approach morebriskly, and pull up impatient-like. But do nothing of yourself--waittill I give you the word. "

"Trust me, Cap; ye kin do that, I kilk'late. "

"I can, Cris. Take this knife, and if you hear pistols cracking behind, you'll then know what to do with it. "

"I gie a guess, anyhow, " rejoined the Texan, taking hold of the knife, in a hand passed behind him. Then bringing it forward and under hiseyes, he added, "'Taint sech a bad sort o' blade eyther, tho' I weesh'twas my ole bowie they took from me at Mier. Wal, Cap; ye kin count onme makin' use o't, ef 'casion calls, an' more'n one yaller-belly gittin'it inter his guts; notwithstandin' this durnation clog that's swingingat my legs. By the jumping Geehosophat, if I ked only git shet o' thatI'd--"

What he would do or intended saying, had to stay unsaid. Rivasinterrupted him, pulling Kearney back, and telling him to be ready withthe pistols. For they were nearing the place of danger. 

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

AN UNLOOKED-FOR SALUTE. 

In a strict military sense the capital of Mexico cannot be called afortified city. Still, it has defences, one being an _enceinte_ wall, which envelops it all round, leaving no straggled suburb, scarce so muchas a house, outside. Compact and close stand the dwellings of themodern city as those of ancient Tenochtitlan, whose site it occupies, though the waves of Tezcuco and Xochimilco no longer lap up to itswalls. 

The _enceinte_ spoken of is a mere structure of "adobes, " largesun-baked blocks of mud and straw--in short, the bricks of theEgyptians, whose making so vexed Moses and the Israelites. Here andthere may be seen a little redoubt, with a battery of guns in it; butonly on revolutionary occasions--the wall, so far as defence goes, moreconcerning the smuggler than the soldier; and less contraband fromabroad than infringement of certain regulations of home commerce--chiefof them the tax called "alcabala, " corresponding to the _octroi_ ofFrance, and the _corvee_ of some other European countries. 

The tax is collected at the "garitas, " of which there is one on everyroad leading out of the city, or rather into it; for it is the man whoenters, not he making exit, who is called upon to contribute to the_alcabala_. It is levied on every article or commodity brought from thecountry in search of a city market. Nothing escapes it; the produce offarm and garden, field and forest--all have to pay toll at the_garitas_, so losing a considerable percentage of their value. Thebrown aboriginal, his "burro" laden with charcoal, or skins of _pulque_, or himself staggering under a load of planks heavy enough to weigh downa donkey, which he has transported from a mountain forest--ten or twentymiles it may be--is mulcted in this blackmail before he can pass througha _garita_. 

Not unfrequently he is unable to meet the demand till he have made saleof the taxed commodity. On such occasions he hypothecates his hat, or_frezada_, leaving it at the gate, and going on bareheaded orbare-shouldered to the market, to redeem the pawned article on return. 

Save through these gates there is no access to, or egress from, theMexican capital; and at each, besides the official having charge of therevenue matters, a soldier-guard is stationed, with a guard-houseprovided; their duties being of a mixed, three-cornered kind--customs, police, and military. Five or six such posts there are, on the five orsix roads leading out from the city, like the radiating limbs of astar-fish; and one of these is the _garita_ El Nino Perdido--literally, the gate of the "Lost Child. " It is, however, one through which thetraffic is of secondary importance; since it is not on any of the mainroutes of travel. That which it bars is but a country road, communicating with the villages of Mixcoac, Coyoacan, and San Angel. Still, these being places of rural residence, where some of the_familiares principes_ have country houses, a carriage passing throughthe gate of the Lost Child is no rarity. Besides, from the gate itselfruns a _Calzada_, or causeway, wide and straight for nearly two miles, with a double row of grand old trees along each side, whose pleasantshade invites, and often receives, visits from city excursionists outfor a stroll, ride, or drive. Near the end of the second mile it anglesabruptly to the right, in the direction of San Angel--a sharp corner thewriter has good reason to remember, having been shot at by_salteadores_, luckily missed, while passing round it on his way fromcountry quarters to the city. A horse of best blood saved _his_ bloodthere, or this tale would never have been told. 

Asking the reader's pardon for a personal digression--with the excusethat it may throw light on the scene to follow--it will be understoodhow easily the guard on duty at the gate might be "thrown off guard" bya carriage passing through it; especially on that day when there were somany, by reason of the grand doings in the city. 

Several had just passed, going country-wards; for it was the season ofrural sojourn among the "ricos. " So, when another appeared, heading inthe same direction, the guard-sergeant at Nino Perdido saw nothingamiss, or to be suspicious of; instead, something to inspire him withrespect. He had been on guard at the Palace scores of times; and byappearance knew all who were accustomed to pass in and out, moreespecially those holding authority. Liveries he could distinguish atany distance; and when he saw a carriage approaching along the street, with a coachman in sky-blue and silver, cockaded, he did not need itsbeing near to recognise the equipage of one of the Cabinet Ministers. 

Though a non-commissioned officer, he was a man of ambitious aims;dreaming of gold bullion in the shape of epaulettes; and he had long hadhis eye on the epaulette of an _alferez_--officers of this rank beingallowed only one. The good word of a Cabinet Minister, whether war, navy, or _Hacienda_, could give him what he was wishing for, easy at anod; and here was an opportunity of winning it. 

"_Cabo_!" he cried out to his corporal, in a flurry of excitement, "throw open the gate--quick! Fall in, men! Dress up--ready to presentarms! See that you do it handsomely!"

It was in his favour, and so he congratulated himself that the carriagecame on rather slowly, so that he had ample time to get his half-dozenfiles well set-up and dressed for the salute. 

There was some buttoning of jackets, stocks to be adjusted roundshirtless necks, with shakos to be searched for inside the guard-house, and hurriedly clapped on. Still, it was all got through in good time;and, when at length the carriage came abreast, the guard was foundstanding at "present arms, " the sergeant himself saluting in the mostgracious manner. 

They inside, knowing how, returned the salute in true soldier style, though with a surprised expression upon their faces. No wonder. Wherethey had anticipated difficulty and danger, they were received with morethan civility--accorded military honours!

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

"IS IT A GRITO?"

The soldiers of the guard had grounded arms, and were sauntering back totheir benches, when something came into the sergeant's mind which causedhim misgiving. 

Was it possible he had been paying honours to those undeserving of them?

He was sure of it being the carriage of Don Ignacio Valverde; his horsesand livery too. But nothing more. None of the party was known to himas belonging to Don Ignacio's family or servants. For Jose was butgroom or second coachman, who occasionally drove out his young mistress, but never to the Palace, or other place where the sergeant had been onduty. 

Equally a stranger to him was the big fellow on the box, who had hold ofthe reins, as also one of the gentlemen inside. It occurred to him, however, that the face of the other was familiar--awakening the memoriesof more than ordinary interest. 

"_Mil diablos_!" he muttered to himself as he stood gazing after theretreating equipage. "If that wasn't my old captain, Don Ruperto Rivas, there isn't another man in Mexico more like him. I heard say he hadturned _salteador_, and they'd taken him only the other day. _Carria_!what's that?"

The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from the _garita_, stillgoing on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase itsspeed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was thisfrom any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip, as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box severaltimes raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again. Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for?And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfiedwith the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to preventit, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of theparty were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when theypassed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might beexpected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegantlight equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of aCabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?

The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! agun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military collegeof Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringingof bells. First those of the Cathedral, then of the Acordada, and theconvent of San Francisco, with other convents and churches, till therewas a clangour all over the city!

Hark again! A second gun from the citadel, quickly followed by anotherfrom Chapultepec, evidently signals and their responses!

"What the _demonio_ is it? A _pronunciamento_?" Not only did thesergeant thus interrogate, but all the soldiers under his command, putting the question to one another. It would be nothing much tosurprise them, least of all himself. He was somewhat of a veteran, andhad seen nigh a score of revolutions, counting _ententes_. 

"I shouldn't be surprised if it is, " he suggested, adding, as a thirdgun boomed out from the citadel; "it must be a _grito_!"

"Who's raising it this time, I wonder?" said one of the soldiers, allnow in a flurry of excited expectancy. 

Several names of noted _militarios_ were mentioned at a venture; but noone could say for certain, nor even give a guess with any confidence. They could hardly yet realise its being the breaking out of a_pronunciamento_, since there had been no late tampering with them--theusual preliminary to revolutions. 

It might not be, after all. But they would be better able to decideshould they hear the rattle of small arms, and for this listened theyall ears. 

More than one of them would have been delighted to hear it. Not thatthey disliked the _regime_ of the Dictator, nor the man himself. Likeall despots he was the soldiers friend; professed and giving proofs ofit, by indulging them in soldierly licence--permission to lord it overthe citizen. But much as they liked "El Cojo" (Game leg), as theycalled him, a _grito_ would be still more agreeable to them--promisingunlimited loot. 

The sergeant had views of his own, and reflections he kept to himself. He felt good as sure there was something up, and could not helpconnecting it with the carriage which had just passed. He now no longerdoubted having seen his old captain in it. But how came he to be there, and what doing? He had been in the city, that's certain--was now out ofit, and going at a speed that must mean something more than common. Hecould get to San Augustin by that route. There were troops quarteredthere; had they declared for the Liberals?

It might be so, and Rivas was on his way to meet and lead them on to thecity. At any moment they might appear on the _calzada_, at the cornerround which the carriage had just turned. 

The sergeant was now in a state of nervous perplexity. Although hiseyes were on the road his thoughts were not there, but all turnedinward, communing with himself. Which side ought he to take? That ofthe _Liberales_ or the _Parti Pretre_? He had been upon both throughtwo or three alternate changes, and still he was but a _sargento_. Andas he had been serving Santa Anna for a longer spell than usual, withouta single step of promotion, he could not make much of a mistake bygiving the Republican party one more trial. It might get him thelong-coveted epaulette of _alferez_. 

While still occupied with his ambitious dreams, endeavouring to decideinto which scale he should throw the weight of his sword, musket, andbayonet, the citadel gun once more boomed out, answered by the canon ofChapultepec. 

Still, there was no cracking of rifles, nor continuous rattle ofmusketry, such as should be heard coincident with that cry which in theMexican metropolis usually announces a change of government. 

It seemed strange not only to him, but all others on guard at El Nino. But it might be a parley--the calm before the storm, which they couldnot help thinking would yet burst forth, in full fusillade--such as theyhad been accustomed to. 

Listening on, however, they heard not that; only the bells, bells, bells, jingling all over the city, as though it were on fire, those ofthe cathedral leading the orchestra of campanule music. And yet anothergun from the citadel, with the answering one from the "Summer Palace ofthe Monctezunas. "

They were fast losing patience, beginning to fear there would be no_pronunciamento_ after all, and no chance of plundering, when the notesof a cavalry bugle broke upon their ears. 

"At last!" cried one, speaking the mind of all, and as though the soundwere a relief to them. "That's the beginning of it. So, _camarados_!we may get ready. The next thing will be the cracking of carbines!"

They all ran to the stack of muskets, each clutching at his own. Theystood listening as before; but not to hear any cracking of carbines. Instead, the bugle again brayed out its trumpet notes, recognisable assignals of command; which, though only infantry men, they understood. There was the "Quick march!" and "Double quick!" but they had no time toreflect on what it was for, nor need, as just then a troop of Hussarswas seen defiling out from a side street, and coming on towards them ata charging gallop. 

In a few seconds they were up to the gate, which, being still open, theycould have passed through, without stop or parley. For all, they madeboth, the commanding officer suddenly reining up, and shouting backalong the line--

"_Alto_!"

The "halt" was proclaimed by the trumpeter at his side, which broughtthe galloping cohort to a stand. 

"_Sargento_!" thundered he at their head to the guard-sergeant, who, with his men re-formed, was again at "Present arms!"

"Has a carriage passed you, guard--a landau--grey horses, five men init?"

"Only four men, Senor Colonel; but all the rest as you describe it. "

"Only four! What can that mean? Was there a coachman in light bluelivery--silver facings?"

"The same, Senor Colonel. "

"That's it, sure; must be. How long since it passed?"

"Not quite twenty minutes, Senor Colonel. It's just gone round thecorner; yonder where you see the dust stirring. "

"_Adelante_!" cried the colonel, without waiting to question further, and as the trumpet gave out the "Forward--gallop!" the Hussar troop wentsweeping through the gate, leaving the guard-sergeant and his men in astate of great mystification and no little chagrin; he, their chiefspokesman, saying with a sorrowful air--

"Well _hombres_, it don't look like a _grito_, after all!"

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. 

AN ILL-USED COACHMAN. 

"Such forethought?" exclaimed Rivas, as the landau went rattling alongthe road with the speed of a war-chariot, "wonderful!" he went on. "Ah, for cleverness, commend me to a woman--when her will's in it. We menare but simpletons to them. My glorious Ysabel! She's the sort for asoldier's wife. But don't let me be claiming all the credit for her. Fair play to the Senorita Valverde; who has, I doubt not, done her shareof the contriving--on your account, Senor. "

The Senor so spoken to had no doubt of it either, and would have beengrieved to think otherwise, but he was too busy at the moment to saymuch, and only signified his assent in monosyllables. With head down, and arms in see-sawing motion, he was endeavouring to cut theircoupling-chain; the tool he handled being a large file; another of the"something" to be found under the cushions--as found it was! No wonderDon Ruperto's enthusiastic admiration of the providence which had placedit there. 

Handy with workmen's tools as with warlike weapons, the young Irishmanhad laid hold of it as soon as they were safe through the _garita_, andwas now rasping away with might and main; the other keeping the chain inplace. 

It was not a task to be accomplished without time. The links were thickas a man's finger, and would need no end of filing before they could beparted. Still, there was little likelihood of their being interrupteduntil it could be done. There was nobody on the road, and only here andthere some labourers at work in the adjoining fields, too busy to takenote of them, or what they were at. The sight of a passing carriagewould be nothing strange, and the horses going at a gallop would butlead to the supposition of its being a party of "jovenes dorados"driving out into the country, who had taken too much wine beforestarting. 

But, even though these poor proletarians knew all, there was nothing tobe apprehended for any action on their part. Conspiracies and_pronunciamentos_ were not in their line; and the storm of revolutionmight burst over their heads without their caring what way it went, oreven inquiring who was its promoter. So the escaping prisoners tooklittle pains to conceal what they were at. Speed was now more to theirpurpose than strategy, and they were making their best of it, both toget on along the road, and have their legs free for future action. 

"We might have passed safely through that gate, " said the Mexican, whostill continued to do the talking, "even had they known who we were. "

"Indeed! how?"

"You saw that sergeant who saluted us?"

"Of course I did, and the grand salute he gave! He couldn't have madeit more impressive had it been the Commander-in-Chief of your army, orthe Dictator himself who was passing. "

"And I fancy it was just something of the kind that moved him. Doubtless, the livery of the coachman, which he would know to be that ofDon Ignacio Valverde. "

"You think he got us through?"

"Yes. But it wouldn't have done so if he'd known what was up. Thoughsomething else might--that is, his knowing _me_. "

"Oh! he knows you?"

"He does; though I'm not sure he recognised me in passing, as I did him. Odd enough, his being there just then. He was corporal in a company Ionce commanded, and I believe liked me as his captain. He's an oldschemer, though; has turned his coat times beyond counting; and just aswell there's been no call for trusting him. He'll catch it for lettingus slip past without challenge; and serve him right, wearing the colourshe now does. Ha! they've waked up at last! I was expecting that. "

It was the first gun at the citadel which called forth theseexclamations, soon followed by the ding-dong of the city bells. 

"_Carrai_!" he continued, "we're no doubt being pursued now, and bycavalry; some of those we saw in the procession. It begins to look bad. Still, with so much start, and this fine pair of _frisones_, I've notmuch fear of their overtaking us, till we reach the point I'm makingfor; unless, indeed--"

"Unless what?" asked Kearney, seeing he had interrupted himself, and waslooking out apprehensively. 

"That! There's your answer, " said the Mexican, pointing to a puff ofsmoke that had just shot out from the summit of an isolated hill onwhich were batteries and buildings. "Chapultepec--a gun!" he added, andthe bang came instantly after. 

"We'll have it hot enough now, " he continued, in a tone telling ofalarm. "There's sure to be cavalry up yonder. If they're cleverly led, and know which way to take, they may head us off yet, in spite of all wecan do. Lay on the whip, " he shouted out to the coachman. 

And the whip was laid on, till the horses galloped faster than ever, leaving behind a cloud of dust, which extended back for more than amile. 

The road they were on was the direct route to San Angel; and throughthis village Rivas had intended going, as he had no reason to believethere were troops stationed in it. But Chapultepec was nearer to itthan the point where they themselves were, and cavalry now starting fromthe latter could easily reach San Angel before them. But there was abranch road leading to Coyoacan, and as that would give them someadvantage, he determined on taking it. 

And now another gun at the citadel, with the response from Chapultepec, and, soon after, the third booming from both. But meanwhile, somethingseen at the castle-crowned hill which deepened the anxious expression onthe face of the Mexican. 

"_Santos Dios_!" he exclaimed; "just as I expected. Look yonder, Senor!"

Kearney looked, to see a stream pouring out from the castle gates andrunning down the steep causeway which zig-zags to the bottom of thehill. A stream of men in uniform, by their square crowned shakos andother insignia, recognisable as Lancers. They had neither weapons norhorses with them; but both, as Rivas knew, would be at the _Cuartel_ andstables below. He also knew that the _Lanzeros_ were trained soldiers--a petted arm of the service--and it would not take them long to "bootand saddle. "

More than ever was his look troubled now, still not despairing. He hadhis hopes and plans. 

"Drop your file, Senor, " he said hurriedly; "no time to finish that now. We must wait for a better opportunity. And we'll have to leave thecarriage behind; but not just yet. "

By this they had arrived at the embouchure of the branch road coming outfrom Cayocaon, into which by his direction the horses were headed, goingon without stop or slackening of speed. And so for nearly another mile;then he called out to those on the box to bring up. 

Rock, anticipating something of the sort, instantly reined in, and thecarriage came to a stand. At which the two inside sprang out upon theroad, Kearney calling to the Texan--

"Drop the reins, Cris! Down; unhitch the horses. Quick!"

And quick came he down, jerking the dwarf after, who fell upon allfours; as he recovered his feet, looking as if he had lost his senses. No one heeded him or his looks; the hurry was too great even to stay forunbuckling. 

"Cut everything off!" cried Kearney, still speaking to Rock. "Leave ononly the bridles. "

With the knife late put into his hands the Texan went to work, Kearneyhimself plying the other, while Rivas held the horses and unhooked thebearing reins. 

Soon pole-pieces and hame-straps were severed; and the frisones ledforward left all behind, save the bridles and collars. 

"Leave the collars on, " said Rivas, seeing there was no time to detachthem. "Now we mount two and two; but first to dispose of him. "

The "him" was Jose, still seated on the box, apparently in a state ofstupor. 

"Pull him down, Cris! Tie him to the wheel!" commanded Kearney. "Thedriving reins will do it. "

The Texan knew how to handle tying gear, as all Texans do, and in atrice the unresisting cochero was dragged from his seat and bound, Ixion-like, to one of the carriage wheels. 

But Rock had not done with him yet. There was a necessity for somethingmore, which looked like wanton cruelty--as they wished it to look. Thiswas the opening of the poor fellow's mouth, and gagging him with thestock of his own whip!

So, rendered voiceless and helpless, he saw the four forzados, two-and-two, get upon his horses and ride off, the only one whovouchsafed to speak a parting word being the dwarf--he calling back in ajocular way--

"_Adios, Senor cochero_! May your journey be as pleasant as your coachis slow. Ha, ha, ha!"

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. 

DOUBLE MOUNTED. 

The labourers hoeing among the young maize plants, and the _tlachiquero_drawing the sap from his magueys, saw a sight to astonish them. Twohorses of unusual size, both carrying double, and going at full gallopas if running a race--on one of them two men in cloaks, blue andscarlet; the other ridden by a giant, with a mis-shapen monkey-likecreature clinging on the croup behind--harness bridles, with collarsdancing loose around their necks--chains hanging down and clanking atevery bound they made--all this along field paths, in an out-of-the-wayneighbourhood where such horses and such men had never been seen before!To the cultivator of "milpas" and the collector of "aguamiel" it was asight not only to astonish, but inspire them with awe, almost causingthe one to drop his hoe, the other his half-filled hog-skin, and take totheir heels. But both being of the pure Aztecan race, long subdued andsubmissive, yet still dreaming of a return to its ancient rule andglories, they might have believed it their old monarchs, Monctezuna andGuatimozin, come back again, or the god Oatluetzale himself. 

In whatever way the spectacle affected them, they were not permittedlong to look upon it. For the galloping pace was kept up without haltor slowing; the strange-looking horses--with the men upon their backs, still stranger to look at--soon entered a _chapparal_, which borderedthe maize and maguey fields, and so passed out of sight. 

"We're near the end of our ride now, " said Rivas to Kearney, after theyhad been some time threading their way through the thicket, the horsesfrom necessity going at a walk. "If 'twere not for this ironmongeryaround our ankles, I could almost say we're safe. Unfortunately, wherewe've got to go the chains will be a worse impediment than ever. Thefile! Have we forgotten it?"

"No, " answered Kearney, drawing it from under his cloak, and holding itup. 

"Thoughtful of you, _caballero_. In the haste, I had; and we shouldhave been helpless without it, or at all events awkwardly fixed. If weonly had time to use it now. But we haven't--not so much as a minute tospare. Besides the lances from Chapultepec, there's a cavalry troop ofsome kind--huzzars I take it--coming on from the city. While we werecutting loose from the carriage, I fancied I heard a bugle-call in thedirection cityward. Of course, with guns and bells signalling, we mayexpect pursuit from every point of the compass. Had we kept to theroads, we'd have been met somewhere. As it is, if they give us anotherten minutes' grace, I'll take you into a place where there's not muchfear of our being followed--by mounted men, anyhow. "

Kearney heard this without comprehending. Some hiding-place, hesupposed, known to the Mexican. It could only mean that. But where?Looking ahead, he saw the mountains with their sides forest-clad, andthere a fugitive might find concealment. But they were miles off; andhow were they to be reached by men afoot--to say nothing of the chains--with cavalry in hue and cry all around them? He put the question. 

"Don't be impatient, _amigo_!" said the Mexican in response; "you'llsoon see the place I speak of, and that will be better than anydescription I could give. It's a labyrinth which would have delightedDaedalus himself. _Mira_! You behold it now!"

He pointed to a _facade_ of rock, grey, rugged, and precipitous, trending right and left through the _chapparal_ far as they could see. A cliff, in short, though of no great elevation; on its crest, growingyuccas, cactus, and stunted mezquite trees. 

"The _Pedregal_!" he added, in a cheerful voice, "and glad am I to seeit. I've to thank old Vulcan or Pluto for making such a place. It hassaved my life once before, and I trust will do the same now, for all ofus. But we must be quick about it. _Adelante_!"

The horses were urged into a final spurt of speed, and soon afterarrived at the base of the rocky escarpment, which would have barredthem further advance in that direction, had the intention been to takethem on. But it was not. 

"We must part from them, now, " said Rivas. "Dismount all!"

All four slipped off together, Rock taking hold of both bridles, as ifhe waited to be told what to do. 

"We mustn't leave them here, " said the Mexican. "They might neigh, andso guide our pursuers to the spot. In another hour, or half that, weneedn't care; it'll be dark then--"

He interrupted himself, seeming to reflect, which, the Texan observing, said to Kearney--

"He weeshes the anymals sent off, do he?"

"Just that, Cris. "

"I war thinkin' o' thet same, meself. The groun' for a good spell backhez been hard as flint, an' we hain't left much o' trail, nothin' as aset o' bunglin' yaller-bellies air like ter take up. As for startin'the horses, that's easy as fallin' off a log. Let me do it. "

"Do it. "

"Take holt o' one then, Cap. Unbuckle the neck strap and pull off thebridle, when you see me do so wi' t'other. It is a pity to act cruel tothe poor brutes arter the sarvice they've did us; but thar ain't no helpfor 't. Riddy, air ye?"

"Ready!"

The Texan had taken out his knife; and in another instant its blade wasthrough the horse's ear, the bridle jerked off at the same time. Theanimal, uttering a terrified snort, reared up, spun round, and brokeaway in frenzied flight through the thorny _chapparal_. The other, alsoreleased, bounded after, both soon passing out of sight. 

"_Bueno_--_bravo_!" cried the Mexican, admiringly, relieved of hisdilemma. "Now, senors, we must continue the march afoot, and overground that'll need help from our hands, too. _Vamonos_!"

Saying which, he took up the bridles, and tossed them over the crest ofthe cliff; then ascended himself, helping Kearney. There was no path;but some projections of the rock--ledges, with the stems of cactusplants growing upon their--made the ascent possible. The Texan swarmedup after, with hunchback at his heels; as he got upon the top, turningsuddenly round, laying hold of the chain, and with a "Jee up, " hoistingthe creature feet foremost!

Another second and they were all out of sight; though not a second toosoon. For as they turned their backs upon the cliff, they could hearbehind, on the farther edge of the thicket through which they hadpassed, the signal calls of a cavalry bugle. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. 

THE PEDREGAL. 

Interesting as is the Mexican Valley in a scenic sense, it is equally soin the geological one; perhaps no part of the earth's crust of likelimited area offering greater attractions to him who would study thelore of the rocks. There he may witness the action of both Plutonic andVolcanic forces, not alone in records of the buried past, but stillexisting, and too oft making display of their mighty power in theearthquake and the burning mountain. 

There also may be observed the opposed processes of deposition anddenudation in the slitting up of great lakes, and the down wearing ofhills by tropical rain storms, with the river torrents resulting fromthem. 

Nor is any portion of this elevated plateau more attractive to thegeologist than that known as "El Pedregal"; a tract lying in itssouth-western corner, contiguous to the Cerro de Ajusco, whose summitrises over it to a height of 6, 000 feet and 13, 000 above the level ofthe sea. 

It is a field of lava vomited forth from Ajusco itself in ages longpast, which, as it cooled, became rent into fissures and honey-combedwith cavities of every conceivable shape. Spread over many square milesof surface, it tenders this part of the valley almost impassable. Nowheeled vehicle can be taken across it; and even the Mexican horse andmule--both sure-footed as goats--get through it with difficulty, andonly by one or two known paths. To the pedestrian it is a task; andthere are places into which he even cannot penetrate without scalingcliffs and traversing chasms deep and dangerous. It bristles withcactus, zuccas, and other forms of crystalline vegetation, characteristic of a barren soil. But there are spots of greatfertility--hollows where the volcanic ashes were deposited--forminglittle _oases_, into which the honest Indian finds his way for purposesof cultivation. Others less honest seek refuge in its caves andcoverts, fugitives from justice and the gaols--not always criminals, however, for within it the proscribed patriot and defeated soldier oftfind an asylum. 

In the four individuals who had now entered there was all this variety, if he who directed their movements was what the Condesa Almontedescribed him. In any case, he appeared familiar with the place and itsways, saying to Kearney, as they went on--

"No thanks to me for knowing all about the Pedregal. I was born on itsedge; when a boy bird-nested and trapped armadilloes all over it. Twisted as this path is, it will take us to a spot where we needn't fearany soldiers following us--not this night anyhow. To-morrow they may, and welcome. "

Their march was continued, but not without great difficulty, and muchexertion of their strength. They were forced to clamber over masses ofrock, and thread their way through thickets of cactus, whose spines, sharp as needles, lacerated their skins. With the coupling-chains stillon, it was all the more difficult to avoid them. 

Luckily, they had not far to go before arriving at the place where theirconductor deemed it safe to make a stop. About this there was nothingparticular, more than its being a hollow, where they could stand uprightwithout danger of being seen from any of the eminences around. Descending into it, Rivas said--

"Now, Don Florencio, you can finish the little job you were interruptedat, without much fear of having to knock off again. "

At which he raised the chain, and held it rested on something firmerthan the cushion of a carriage. So placed, the file made betterprogress, and in a short time the link was cut through, letting themwalk freely apart. 

"_Caballero_!" exclaimed the Mexican, assuming an attitude as if aboutto propose a toast; "may our friendship be more difficult to sever thanthat chain, and hold us longer together--for life, I hope. "

Kearney would not have been a son of Erin to refuse reciprocating thepretty compliment, which he did with all due warmth and readiness. 

But his work was not over. Rock and Zorillo had yet to be uncoupled;the former, perhaps, longing to be delivered more than any of the four. He had conceived a positive disgust for the hunchback; though, asalready said, less on account of the creature's physical than moraldeformity, of which last he had ample evidence during the short whilethey were together. Nor had it needed for him to understand what thelatter said. A natural physiognomist, he could read in Zorillo's eyesthe evil disposition of the animal from which he drew his name. 

As Kearney approached him with the file, the Texan raising his foot, andplanting it on a ledge of rock, said--

"Cut through thar, Cap--the link as air nixt to my ankle-clasp. "

This was different to what had been done with the other, which had beensevered centrally. It was not intended to take off the whole of thechains yet. The Mexican said there was no time for so much filing; thatmust be done when they got farther on. 

"Yer see, Cap, " added Rock, giving a reason for the request, "'fore it'sall over, who knows I mayn't need full leg freedom 'ithoot any hamper?So gie the dwarf the hul o' the chain to carry. He desarve to hev it, or suthin' else, round his thrapple 'stead o' his leg. This chile havebeen contagious to the grist o' queer company in his perambulationsroun' and about; but niver sech as he. The sight of him air enough togive a nigger the gut ache. "

And in his quaint vernacular he thus rambled on all the time Kearney wasat work, his rude speech being an appropriate symphony to the rasping ofthe file. 

He at the other end of the coupling-chain lay squatted along the ground, saying not a word, but his eyes full of sparkle and mischief, as thoseof an enraged rattle-snake. Still, there was fear in his face; forthough he could not tell what was being said, he fancied it was abouthimself, and anything but in his favour. He was with the other three, but not of them; his conscience told him that. He was in their way, too; had been all along, and would be hereafter. What if they took intotheir heads to rid themselves of him in some violent manner? They mightcut his throat with one of the knives he had seen them make suchdexterous use of! Reflecting in this fashion, no wonder he wasapprehensive. 

Something was going to be done to him different from the rest, he feltsure. After the chain had been got apart the other three drew off to adistance, and stood as if deliberating. It must be about himself. 

And about him it was--the way to dispose of him. 

"I hardly know what we're to do with the little beast, " said Rivas. "Leave him here loose we daren't; he'd slip back again, good as certain, and too soon for our safety. If we tie him he will cry out, and mightbe heard. We're not far enough away. _Oiga_! They're beating up thecover we've just come out of. Yes; they're in the _chapparal_ now!"

It was even so, as could be told by the occasional call of a buglesounding skirmish signals. 

"Why not tie and gag him, too?" asked Kearney. 

"Sure we could do that. But it wouldn't be safe either. They mightfind their way here at once. But if they didn't find it at all, and noone came along--"

"Ah! I see, " interrupted the Irishman, as the inhumanity of the thingbecame manifest to him. "He might perish, you mean?"

"Just so. No doubt the wretch deserves it. From all I've heard of him, he does richly. But we are not his judges, and have no right to be hisexecutioners. "

Sentiments not such as might have been expected from the lips of abandit!

"No, certainly not, " rejoined Kearney, hastening to signify his approvalof them. 

"What do _you_ think we should do with him, Rock?" he added, addressinghimself to the Texan, who quite comprehended the difficulty. 

"Wal', Cap; 't 'ud be marciful to knock him on the head at onc't, thanleave him to gasp it out with a stopper in his mouth; as ye say theMexikin thinks he mout. But thar ain't no need for eyther. Why nottoat him along? Ef he should bother us I kin heist him on my back, easyenuf. A ugly burden he'd be, tho' 'tain't for the weight o' him. "

The Texan's suggestion was entertained, no other course seeming safe, except at the probable sacrifice of the creature's life. And that noneof them contemplated for a moment. In fine, it was determined to takehim on. 

The colloquy now coming to an end, Rivas and the Irishman caught up thepieces of chain still attached to their ankles, each making the end ofhis own fast round his wrist, so as not to impede their onward march. This done, they all moved on again, the Mexican, of course, foremost, Kearney at his heels. After him, Cris Rock, chain in hand, halfleading, half-dragging the dwarf, as a showman might his monkey. 

In this way there was no danger of his betraying them. He could shoutand still have been heard by those behind. But an expressive gesture ofthe Texan admonished him that if he made a noise, it would be the lastof him. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. 

A SUSPICION OF CONNIVANCE. 

"Suspicious, to say the least of it! If a coincidence, certainly thestrangest in my experience, or that I've ever heard of. A score ofother carriages passing, and they to have chosen that one of all!_Carrai_! it cannot have been chance--improbable--impossible!"

So soliloquised the Chief Magistrate of Mexico, after receiving a reportof what had occurred in the Calle de Plateros. He had as yet only beenfurnished with a general account of it; but particularising theprisoners who had escaped, with their mode of making off, as also whosecarriage they had seized upon. He had been told, also, that there weretwo ladies in it, but needed not telling who they were. 

All this was made known by a messenger who came post-haste to thePalace, soon after the occurrence. He had been sent by ColonelSantander, who could not come himself; too busy getting the Hussars intotheir saddles for the pursuit--for he it was who led it. And never didman follow fugitives with more eagerness to overtake them, or morebitter chagrin in their flight. 

Not much, if anything, less was that of Santa Anna himself, as he nowsat reflecting over it. He, too, had seen the two Texans with Rivas inthe sewers; the latter a well-known enemy in war, and, as he latebelieved, a dangerous rival in love. He had glanced exultingly at him, with the thought of that danger past. The rebel proscribed, and foryears sought for, had at length been found; was in his power, with lifeforfeit, and the determination it should be taken. That but a shorthour ago, and now the doomed man was free again!

But surely not? With a squadron of cavalry in pursuit, canon booming, bells ringing, every military post and picket for miles round on thealert, surely four men chained two and two, conspicuous in a grandcarriage, could not eventually get off. 

It might seem so; still the thing was possible, as Santa Anna had reasonto know. A man of many adventures, he had himself more than once eludeda pursuing enemy with chances little better. 

He sat chewing the cud of disappointment, though not patiently, norkeeping all the time to his chair. Every now and then he rose to hisfeet, made stumping excursions round the room, repeatedly touched thebell, to inquire whether any news had been received of the fugitiveparty. 

The aide-de-camp in attendance could not help wondering at all this, having had orders to report instantly whatever word should be broughtin. Besides, why should the great Generalissimo be troubling himselfabout so small a matter as the escape of three or four prisoners, seeming excited as if he had lost a battle. 

The cause of this excitement the Dictator alone knew, keeping it tohimself. He was still in the dark as to certain details of what hadtranspired, and had sent for the governor of the Acordada, who should beable to supply them. 

Meantime he went about muttering threats against this one and that one, giving way to bitter reflections; one bitterest of all, that there hadbeen a suspicion of connivance at the escape of the prisoners. But tothis there was a sweet side as well; so some words uttered by him wouldindicate. 

"Ah, Condesa! You may be clever--you are. But if I find you've had ahand in this, and it can be proved to the world, never was a woman in aman's power more than you'll be in mine. Title, riches, familyinfluence, all will be powerless to shield you. In the cell of a prisonwhere I may yet have the pleasure of paying you a visit, you won't beeither so proud or so scornful as you've shown yourself in a palace thissame day. _Veremos_--we shall see. "

"Don Pedro Arias. "

It was an aide-de-camp announcing the Governor of the Acordada. 

"Conduct him in. "

Without delay the prison official was ushered into the presence, lookingvery sad and cowed-like. Nor did the reception accorded him have arestoring influence; instead, the reverse. 

"What's all this I hear?" thundered out the disposer of punishments andof places; "you've been letting your prisoners bolt from you in wholebatches. I suppose by this time the Acordada will be empty. "

"_Excellentissimo_! I am very sorry to say that four of them--"

"Yes; and of the four, two of them you had orders to guard moststrictly--rigorously. "

"I admit it, Sire, but--"

"Sirrah! you needn't waste words excusing yourself. Your conduct shallbe inquired into by-and-by. What I want now is to know thecircumstances--the exact particulars of this strange affair. So answerthe questions I put to you without concealment or prevarication. "

The gaol-governor, making humble obeisance, silently awaited theexamination, as a witness in the box who fears he may himself soon standin the dock. 

"To begin: why did you send those four prisoners out with thechain-gang?"

"By order of Colonel Santander, Sire. He said it was your Excellency'swish. "

"Humph! Well, that's comprehensible. And so far you're excusable. Buthow came it you didn't see to their being better guarded?"

"Sire, I placed them in charge of the chief turnkey--a man namedDominguez--whom I had found most trustworthy on other occasions. To-daybeing exceptional, on account of the ceremonies, he was pressed to takedrink, and, I'm sorry to say, got well-nigh drunk. That will explainhis neglect of duty. "

"It seems there were two ladies in the carriage. You know who theywere, I suppose?"

"By inquiry I have ascertained, your Excellency. One was the CountessAlmonte the other Don Luisa Valverde, as your Excellency will know, thedaughter of him to whom the equipage belonged. "

"Yes, yes. I know all that. I have been told the carriage made stopdirectly opposite to where these men were at work. Was that so?"

"It was, Sire. "

"And have you heard how the stoppage came about?"

"Yes, _Excellentissimo_. The horses shied at something, and brought thewheels into a bank of mud. Then the _cochero_, who appears to be astupid fellow, pulled them up, when he ought to have forced them on. While they were at rest the four _forzados_ made a rush, two right intothe carriage, the other two up to the box; one of these last, the big_Tejano_, getting hold of the reins and whip, and driving off at agallop. They had only one sentry to pass in the direction of SanFrancisco. He, like Dominguez, was too far gone in drink, so there wasnothing to stop them--except the guards at the garitas. And, I am sorryto say, the sergeant at El Nino Perdita let them pass through without somuch as challenging. His account is that, seeing the carriage belongedto one of your Excellency's Ministers, he never thought of stopping it, and should not. Why should he, Sire?"

This touch of obsequious flattery seemed to mollify the Dictator'swrath, or it had by this otherwise expended itself, as evinced by hisrejoinder in a more tranquil tone. Indeed, his manner became almostconfidential. 

"Don Pedro, " he said, "I'm satisfied with the explanation you give, sofar as regards your own conduct in the affair. But now, tell me, do youthink the ladies who were in the carriage had anything to do with thedrawing up of the horses? Or was it all an accident?"

"Will your Excellency allow me a moment to reflect? I had thoughtsomething of that before; but--"

"Think of it again. Take time, and give me your opinion. Let it be atruthful one, Don Pedro; there's much depending on it. "

Thus appealed to, the gaol-governor stood for a time silent, evidentlycudgelling his brains. He made mental review of all that had been toldhim about the behaviour of the young ladies, both before they wereturned out of the carriage and after. He was himself aware of certainrelations, friendly at least, supposed to exist between one of them andone of the escaped prisoners, and had thought it strange, too, thatparticular equipage being chosen. Still, from all he could gather, after ample inquiry, he was forced to the conclusion that the thing wasunpremeditated--at least on the part of the ladies. 

This was still his belief, after reflecting as he had been enjoined todo. In support of it he stated the facts as represented to him, how theSenoritas had been forced from their carriage, almost pitched into thestreet, their costly dresses dirtied and damaged, themselves showingwildest affright. Still, this was strange, too, on the part of theCondesa; and, in fine, Don Pedro, after further cross-questioning, wasunable to say whether there had been connivance or not. 

After giving such an unsatisfactory account of the matter he wasdismissed, rather brusquely; and returned to the Acordada, with an uglyapprehension that instead of continuing governor of this grand gaol, with a handsome salary and snug quarters, he might ere long be himselfthe occupant of one of its cells, set apart for common prisoners. 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. 

THE REPORT OF THE PURSUER. 

With unappeased impatience the Dictator awaited the return of thepursuing party, or some news of it. The last he in time received atfirst hand from the lips of its leader, who, after nightfall, hadhastened back to the city and reported himself at the Palace. 

"You have taken them?" interrogated Santa Anna, as the Hussar officer, no longer in a glitter of gold lace, but dim with sweat and dust, wasushered into his presence. 

He put the question doubtingly; indeed, from the expression ofSantander's face, almost sure of receiving a negative answer. Negativeit was--

"Not yet, Sire; I regret to say they are still at large. "

The rejoinder was preceded by a string of exclamatory phrases, illbecoming the Chief of the State. But Santa Anna, being a soldier, claimed a soldier's privilege of swearing, and among his familiars wasaccustomed to it as any common trooper. After venting a strongebullition of oaths, he calmed down a little, saying--

"Give me a full account of what you've seen and done. "

This was rendered in detail, from the time of the pursuit being enteredupon till it had ended abortively, by the coming on of night. 

Chancing to be in the Maza, the Colonel said, when word reached him ofwhat had occurred in the Calle de Plateros, he made all haste to pursuewith a squadron of Hussars. Why he took so many, was that he might beable to send a force along every road, in case it should be necessary. 

He found the _escapados_ had gone out by El Nino Perdido, the sergeanton guard there allowing them to go past. 

"See that he be put under arrest!"

"He's under arrest now, your Excellency. I had that done as I wasreturning. "

"Proceed with your relation!"

Which Santander did, telling how he had followed the fugitive partyalong the San Angel Road, and there met a troop of Lancers fromChapultepec. Some field-labourers had seen a carriage turn off towardsCoyoacan; and taking that route he soon after came up with it. It wasstopped on the roadside: empty, horses gone, the harness strewed overthe ground hacked and cut; the _cochero_ strapped to one of the wheels, and gagged with the handle of his whip!

When the man was released he could tell nothing more than that the fourhad mounted his horses, a pair upon each, and galloped off across thecountry, on a sort of bridle path, as if making for the San AntonioRoad. 

Turning in that direction, Santander soon discovered that they hadentered into a tract of _chapparal_; and while this was being searchedfor them, the unharnessed horses were observed rushing to and fro infrenzied gallop, riderless of course. When caught, it was seen why theywere now excited, one of them having its ear slit, the blood stilldropping from the wound. 

The _chapparal_ was quartered in every direction; but he soon came tothe conclusion it was no use searching for them there. 

"_Carramba_!" interrupted his listener; "of course not I know the placewell. And if you, Senor Colonel, were as well acquainted with that_chapparal_, and what lies alongside it, as one of those you were after, you'd have dropped the search sooner. You needn't tell me more; I canguess the finish; they got off into the Pedregal. "

"So it would seem, your Excellency. "

"Seem! So it is, _por cierto_. And looking for them there would be somuch lost time. Around your native city, New Orleans, there are swampswhere the runaway slave manages to hide himself. He'd have a betterchance of concealment here, among rocks, in that same quarter you'vejust come from. It's a very labyrinth. But what did you afterwards?You may as well complete your narrative. "

"There is not much more to tell, Sire; for little more could we do. Thedarkness came on, as we discovered they had taken to the rocks. "

"You did discover that?"

"Yes, your Excellency. We found the place where they had gone up over asort of cliff. There were scratches made by their feet, with a branchbroken off one of the cactus plants; some of the sewer mud, too, was onthe rock. But there was no path, and I saw it would be useless carryingthe pursuit any further till we should have the light of morning. I'vetaken every precaution, however, to prevent their getting out of thePedregal. "

"What precautions?"

"By completely enfilading it, Sire. I sent the Lancers round by SanGeromino and Contreras; the Hussars to go in the opposite direction bySan Augustin. They have orders to drop a picket at every path thatleads from it, till they meet on the other side. "

"Well, Senor Colonel, your strategy is good. I don't see that you couldhave done better under the circumstances. But it's doubtful whether weshall be able to trap our foxes in the Pedregal. One of them knows itspaths too well to let night or darkness hinder his travelling alongthem. He'll be through it before your pickets can get to theirstations. Yes; and off to a hiding-place he has elsewhere--a saferone--somewhere in the Sierras. Confound those Sierras with theircaverns and forests. They're full of my enemies, rebels, and robbers. But I'll have them rooted out, hanged, shot, till I clear the country ofdisaffection. _Carajo_! I shall be master of Mexico, not only in name, but deeds. Emperor in reality!"

Excited by the thought of unrestrained rule and dreams of vengeance--sweet to the despot as blood to the tiger--he sprang out of his chair, and paced to and fro, gesticulating in a violent manner. 

"Yes, Senor Colonel!" he continued in tone satisfied as triumphant. "Other matters have hindered me from looking after these skulkingproscripts. But our victory over the Tejanos has given me the powernow, and I intend using it. These men must be recaptured at all cost--if it take my whole army to do it. To you, Don Carlos Santander, Ientrust the task--its whole management. You have my authority torequisition troops, and spend whatever money may be needed to ensuresuccess. And, " he added, stepping close to his subordinate, andspeaking in a confidential way, "if you can bring me back Ruperto Rivas, _or his head so that I can recognise it_, I shall thank you not as_Colonel_, but as _General_ Santander. "

The expression upon his face as he said this was truly Satanic. Equallyso that on his to whom the horrid hint was given. Alike cruel in theirinstincts, with aims closely corresponding, it would be strange if thefugitive prisoners were not retaken. 

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. 

UP THE MOUNTAIN. 

"We're going to have a night black as charcoal, " said Rivas, running hiseye along the outline of the Cordilleras, and taking survey of the skybeyond. 

"Will that be against us?" queried the young Irishman. 

"In one way, yes; in another, for us. Our pursuers will be sure to rideall round the Pedregal, and leave a picket wherever they see theresemblance of path or trail leading out. If it were to come onmoonlight--as luckily it won't--we'd had but a poor chance to get pastthem without being seen. And that would signify a fight against awkwardodds--numbers, arms, everything. We must steal past somehow, and so thedarkness will be in our favour. "

As may be deduced from this snatch of dialogue, they were still in thePedregal. But the purple twilight was now around them, soon to deepeninto the obscurity of night; sooner from their having got nearly acrossthe lava field, and under the shadow of Ajusco, which, like a blackwall, towered up against the horizon. They had stooped for a moment, Rivas himself cautiously creeping up to an elevated spot, andreconnoitring the ground in front. 

"It will be necessary for us to reach the mountains before morning, " headded after a pause. "Were we but common gaol-birds who had bolted, itwouldn't much signify, and we'd be safe here for days, or indeed forever. The authorities of Mexico, such as they are at present, don'tshow themselves very zealous in the pursuit of escaped criminals. Butneither you nor I, Senor Kearney, come under that category--unluckilyfor us, just now--and the Pedregal, labyrinth though it be, will getsurrounded and explored--every inch of it within the next forty-eighthours. So out of it we must move this night, or never. "

Twilight on the table-lands of the western world is a matter of only afew minutes: and, while he was still speaking, the night darkness haddrawn around them. It hindered them not from proceeding onwards, however, the Mexican once more leading off, after enforcing upon theothers to keep close to him, and make no noise avoidable. 

Another half-hour of clambering over rocks, with here and there ascrambling through thickets of cactus, and he again came to a stop, all, of course, doing the same. This time to use their ears, rather thaneyes; since around all was black as a pot of pitch, the nearest object, rock or bush, being scarcely visible. 

For a time they stood listening intently. Not long, however, beforehearing sounds--the voices of men--and seeing a glimmer of light, whichrose in radiation above the crest of a low ridge at some distance ahead. 

"_Un piquet_!" pronounced Rivas, in a half-whisper. 

"_Soto en la puerto--mozo_!" (knave in the door--winner) came a voicein a long-drawn accentuation, from the direction of the light. 

"Good!" mutteringly exclaimed the Mexican, on hearing it. "They're attheir game of _monte_. While so engaged, not much fear they'll think ofaught else. I know the spot they're in, and a way that will take usround it. Come on, _camarados_! The trick's ours!"

Sure enough it proved so. A path that showed no sign of having everbeen trodden, but still passable, led out past the gambling soldiers, without near approach to them. And they were still absorbed in theirgame--as could be told by its calls every now and then drawled out, andsounding strange in that solitary place. Ruperto Rivas conducted histrio of companions clear of the Pedregal, and beyond the line ofenfiladement. 

In twenty minutes after they were mounting the steep slope of the CerroAjusco, amid tall forest trees, with no fear of pursuit by the soldiers, than if separated from them by a hundred long leagues. 

After breasting the mountain for some time, they paused to take breath, Rivas saying--

"Well, _caballeros_, we're on safe ground now, and may rest a bit. It'sbeen a close shave, though; and we may thank our stars there are none inthe sky--nor moon. Look yonder! They're at it yet. `_Soto en lapuerto--mozo_!' Ha, ha, ha!"

He referred to a faint light visible at a long distance below, on theedge of the Pedregal, where they had passed that of a picket fire-camp, which enabled the _monte_ players to make out the markings on theircards. 

"We may laugh who have won, " he added, now seemingly relieved from allapprehension of pursuit. 

Nevertheless the fugitive party stayed but a short while there; justlong enough to recover wind. The point they were making for was stillfurther up the mountain, though none of them could tell where save Rivashimself. He knew the place and paths leading to it, and well; otherwisehe could not have followed them, so thick was the darkness. In daylightit would have been difficult enough, yawning chasms to be crossed_barransas_--with cliffs to be climbed, in comparison with which theescarpments of the Pedregal were but as garden walls. 

In a groping way, hand helping hand, all were at length got up and over, as the tolling of distant church bells, down in the valley below, proclaimed the hour of midnight. Just then Rivas, once more making astop, plucked a leaf from one of the grass plants growing by, andplacing it between his lips gave out a peculiar sound, half screech, half whistle--a signal as the others supposed; being assured it was, bythe response soon after reaching their ears. 

The signal was given again, with some variations; responded to in likemanner. Then a further advance up the mountain, and still another halt;this time at hearing the hail:

"_Quien viva_!"

"_El Capitan_!" called out Rivas in answer, and received for rejoinderfirst an exclamation of delighted surprise, then words signifyingpermission to approach and pass. 

The approach was not so easy, being up a steep incline, almost a cliff. But on reaching its crest they came in sight of the man who hadchallenged, standing on a ledge of rock. A strange-looking figure heseemed to Kearney and the Texan, wearing a long loose robe, girded atthe waist--the garb of a monk, if the dim light was not deceiving them;yet with the air of a soldier, and sentinel-fashion, carrying a gun!

He was at "present arms" when they got up opposite; and wondering, butwithout saying aught, they passed him--their conductor, after amomentary pause and a muttered word to him, leading on as before. 

Another ascent, this time short, but still almost precipitous, and thisclimbing came to an end. 

CHAPTER FORTY. 

A FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

The spot where they had now made stop--final for the night--was stillfar below the summit of the mountain. It was a sort of platform orbench, formed by the crest of a projecting spur, the cliff rising sheerat its back. Its level surface was only a few acres in extent, supporting a thick growth of tall evergreen pines, the long-leavedspecies indigenous to Mexico. Centrally there was a place clear oftimber, which ran up to the cliff's base, or rather to a buildingcontiguous to it. In front of this they halted, Rivas saying--

"Behold my humble abode, _caballeros_! Let me bid you welcome to it. "

There was light enough to let them see a massive pile of mason workoutlined against the cliff's _facade_, while too dim for them todistinguish its features. They could make out, however, what appearedto be a pair of windows with pointed arches, and between them a largedoorway, seeming more like the mouth of a cavern. Out of this came afaint scintillation of light, and as they drew up to it, a candle couldbe seen burning inside a sort of covered porch, resembling the lych-gateof a country church. There were some stone benches outside, from one ofwhich a man started up and advanced toward them, as he did so puttingthe formal question--

"_Quien es_?"

"_Yo, Gregorio_!" was the answer given by Rivas. 

"_El Capitan_!" exclaimed the questioner, in a tone also telling ofpleased surprise. "And free again! I'm so glad, Don Ruperto! Praiseto the Lord for delivering you!"

"Thanks, good Gregorio! And while you're about it, you may as well givepart of your praise to a lady, who had something to do with it--indeed, two of them. "

"Ah! Senor Capitan, I think I know one of them anyhow, and in allMexico I can say--ay, swear it--"

"True, true!" interrupted the Captain. "But stay your asseveration. There's no time to talk about the Senoritas now. My friends and I arein want of something to eat. We're as hungry as _coyotes_. What haveyou got in the larder?"

"Not much, I fear, your worship. And the cook's gone to bed, witheverybody else. But they'll only be too delighted to get up when theyhear it's your worship come back. Shall I go and rouse them, Senor?"

"No, no. Let them sleep it out. Any cold thing will do for us. We'reas much fatigued as famished, and wish to be in bed ourselves as soon aspossible. So look out whatever eatables there are, and don't forget thedrinkables. I trust the cellar isn't as low as the larder?"

"No, Senor. Of that I can speak with more confidence. Not a cork hasbeen drawn since you left us--I mean of the best wines. Only the commonCanario was drunk in your absence. "

"In that case, mayor-domo, we may sup satisfactorily, so far as theliquids are concerned, should the solids prove deficient. Bring abottle of Burgundy, another of the Brown Madeira, and, let me see--yes, one of old Pedro Ximenes. I suppose the brethren have used up all mybest cigars?"

"Not one of them, Senor. The Havannahs have been under lock and key, too. I gave out only _puros_. "

"What a faithful steward you've proved yourself, Gregorio! Well, alongwith the wine, let us have a bundle of Imperadores. We haven't tastedtobacco for days, and are all dying for a smoke. "

By this time they had entered the porch, and were passing on through along corridor, still more dimly illuminated. But there was lightissuing from a side-door, which stood open. By this Rivas made stop, with word and gesture signifying to the others to pass on inside, whichthey did. Not all of them, however; only Kearney and Rock. A differentdisposition he meant making of the dwarf than giving him Burgundy andMadeira to drink, with the smoking of "Emperor" cigars. Pointing to thecrooked semblance of humanity, at which Gregorio was gazing with apuzzled air, he whispered to the latter--

"Take the beast back, and shut him up in one of the cells. You may givehim something to eat, but see to his being securely kept. Insignificantas he looks, there's mischief in him, and he might take it into his headto stray. You comprehend, Gregorio?"

"I do, your worship. I'll take care to stow him safe. "

Saying which, the mayor-domo of the establishment, for such Gregoriowas, caught the hunchback by one of his ears--grand auricles they were--and led him away along the corridor, with the prison chain trailingbehind. 

Rivas did not stay till they were out of sight, but turning, steppedinside the room into which he had ushered the other two. 

It was rather a large apartment, but plainly and sparsely furnished; adeal table and half a dozen common chairs, with leathern backs andbottoms, such as may be seen in most Mexican houses. It was bettersupplied with arms than household effects; several guns standing incorners, with swords hanging against the walls, and a variety ofaccoutrements--all giving it more the appearance of a guard-house thanthe reception-room of a gentleman's mansion. 

"Now _amigos_" said the Mexican, after rejoining his guests, on whosefaces he could not fail to note an odd inquiring expression, "I can atlast say to you, feel safe, if I can't assure you of a supper good asI'd wish to give. Still, if I mistake not, 'twill be superior to ourprison fare. _Por Dios_! Having to put up with that was punishmentenough of itself, without being set to work in the sewers. "

"Ah, " remarked Kearney, speaking for himself and the Texan, "had youbeen one of us prisoners from Mier up to Mexico, the diet you complainof would have seemed luxury for Lucullus. "

"Indeed! What did they give you to eat?"

"Brown beans only half boiled, _tortillas_, usually cold; and sometimes, for a whole stretch of twenty-four hours, nothing at all. "

"_Carramba_!" exclaimed the Mexican. "That was hard usage. But nothingto surprise. Just as Santa Anna might be expected to treat his captiveenemies, whether of his own people, or as yourselves, foreigners. Morecruel tyrant never ruled country. But his reign, thank Heaven, will notbe long. I've reason for saying that, and better still for thinkingit. "

The little interlude of dialogue was brought to a close by the entranceof the mayor-domo loaded with bottles and glasses. He had orders tobring the wine first, the cigars along with it. 

Lumping all down upon the table, he left them to wait upon themselves, while he went off to ransack the pantry soon to return with asufficiency of viands, and savoury enough to satisfy men who had justcome out of the Acordada. There was cold mutton, ham, and venison, maize bread, and "guesas de Guatemala, " with a variety of fruit tofollow. Verily a supper at which even a gourmand might not cavil;though it was but the _debris_ of a dinner, which seemed to have beenpartaken of by a goodly array of guests. 

Not long lingered they over it, before whom it was set a second time. Overcome by the toil and struggle of days, and more the mental worryattendant, even the wine freely quaffed failed to excite them afresh. Rest and sleep they more needed and much desired; all glad when Gregorioagain showed his face at the door, saying--

"_Caballeros_, your sleeping rooms are ready. "

CHAPTER FORTY ONE. 

ANXIOUS HOURS. 

"See, Luisita! Yonder go soldiers!"

"Where?"

"Along the calzada of Nino Perdido--under the trees--by the thickclump--they're galloping!"

"_Santissima_, yes! I see them now. O Ysabel! if they overtake thecarriage! _Ay Dios_!"

"_Ay Dios_, indeed! It's to be hoped they won't, though. And I haveless fear of it now than ever. It must have gone that way, or thesoldiers wouldn't be there; and as it couldn't have stopped at the_garita_, it should now be a good distance on. Keep up your heart, _amiga mia_, as I do mine. They'll soon be safe, if they're not yet. "

This exclamatory dialogue was carried on while the alarm bells werestill ringing, and the guns booming. The speakers were on the azotea ofDon Ignacio's house, up to which they had hastened soon as home--havingdismissed their escort below, and left orders for no visitors to beadmitted. 

In the _mirador_, with opera-glasses to their eyes, they had beenscanning the roads which led south and south-west from the city. Onlyfor a few minutes, as they had but just got back, and as the carriagehaving already rounded the turning to Coyoacan, they saw but thepursuing soldiers. Those were the Hussars, with Santander at theirhead, though the ladies knew not that. 

Fortified by the hopeful speech of the Condesa, the other responded toit with an added word of hope, and a prayer for the safe escape of thosethey were concerned about. 

Then for a while both remained silent, with the lorgnettes to theireyes, following the movements of the soldiers along the road. Soonthese were out of sight, but their whereabouts could be told by thecloud of white dust which rose over the trees, gradually driftingfarther and farther off. 

At length it too disappeared, settling down; and as the bells ceased toring, and the cannon to be fired, the city, with all around it, seemedrestored to its wonted tranquillity. 

But not so the breasts of Luisa Valverde and Ysabel Almonte. Far fromtranquil they; instead, filled with anxiety, keen as ever. And now, asmuch on their own account as for those they had been aiding to escape. In their haste to effect this, they had taken no thought of what was tocome after. But it was now forced upon them. As they looked back onwhat they had themselves done--the part they had been playing, with allits details of action--apprehensions hitherto unfelt began to steal overthem, growing stronger the longer they dwelt upon them. 

But what would be the upshot of all?

What if the carriage got overtaken with the fugitives in it, and besidethem those knives and pistols, to say nothing of the file? Agentleman's cloak too, with _mango_ and _serape_! Odd assortment ofarticles for ladies to take out on an airing! They had no fear of the_cochero_ betraying them; but this paraphernalia surely would, if itfell into the hands of the pursuers. They might expect investigation, anyhow; but these things, if produced, would bring about an exposureunavoidable. 

No wonder at their soon becoming seriously alarmed, henceforth nervouslyagitated. And they had no one to take council with. Soon after theircoming home, Don Ignacio, seeing and hearing of what happened, hadsallied forth to make inquiries, and direct pursuit. Furious about hisfine carriage and horses carried off, he little dreamt that along withthem were his duelling pistols and blue broadcloth cloak. 

Nor would it do to tell him of those matters, unless they made up theirminds to confess all, and fling themselves on his affection more thanhis mercy. Of course he was still in the dark about their doings--unsuspicious man--had not even been told who the _forzados_ were thathad taken away his equipage. 

Closeted alone, for some time the alarmed ladies could not think of whatthey ought to do. They did not yield to despair, however; instead, kepton scheming and considering how they might meet the worst--if the worstcame. 

But one way seemed plausible--even possible--that depending on DonIgnacio. If they could prevail on him to tell a falsehood, all might bewell. Only to say the carriage had been made ready for a journey to his_casa de campo_, whither he had intended to proceed that same evening, taking his daughter and the Condesa along with him. That would explainthe presence of the weapons; no uncommon thing--rather the rule--forcarriage travellers to take such with them, even going but outside thesuburbs of the city. For good reason, there being footpads and robberseverywhere. And the cloaks for protection against the night air!

In this way they groped about, as drowning people clutch at sticks andstraws, still without being able to get rid of their apprehensions. Even should Don Ignacio agree to the deception they thought of--hewould, no doubt, when made aware of their danger--it was questionablewhether it would serve them. For there was a file too--a small matter, but a most conspicuous link in the chain of circumstantial evidenceagainst them. They in the carriage would have been using it, beforebeing taken--if they should be taken. Finally, the worst of all, therelations known to exist between themselves and two of the menattempting escape. 

A miserable time it was for them during the remainder of that afternoonand evening; a struggle amid doubts, fears, and conjectures. Nor didDon Ignacio's return home in any way relieve them. They were not yetprepared to surrender up their secret even to him. The time had notcome for that. As the hours passed, things began to look better, andthe suspense easier to bear. No report from the pursuers, which therewould or should have been, were the pursued taken. 

Something better still, at length. Jose back home with the carriage andhorses, and nothing besides--no weapons nor spare wraps! All gone off, the tell-tale file along with them. 

Pepita brought this intelligence in to the ladies, who longed to have aprivate interview with the _cochero_. But he had first to deliver histo Don Ignacio, who had sallied out into the stables to receive it. 

A strange tale it was, imparted to an angry listener, who, whilelistening, looked upon his costly harness, patched and mended withropes, where it had been cut. His fine _frisones_ too, abused, possiblyinjured for good, the ear of one of them well-nigh severed from thehead! Slow to wrath though he was, this was enough to make himwrathful, without the further knowledge of his other losses, about whichJose took care _not_ to enlighten him. 

At a later hour the circumspect _cochero_ told his tale to other ears interms somewhat different, and with incidents. His master, summoned tothe Palace, gave the opportunity so much desired by his young mistressand the Condesa for speaking with him; and he was soon in theirpresence, getting interrogated with a volubility which made sober replyalmost impossible. 

His questioners, however, after a time calming down, listened to hisnarration in a detailed form, though not without repeated interruptions. He told them about the slow driving of the carriage along the gardenwall of San Francisco, the putting on the disguises, and how cleverlythey had outwitted the guard at the _garita_. 

"Like Ruperto!" at this juncture exclaimed the Countess. 

Then, of their onward course along the _calzada_, horses in a gallop, till stopped on the Coyoacan road, with the action taken there--quick asit was varied and strange. 

Donna Luisa, in her turn, here interrupted in triumphant exclamation--

"Like Florencio!"

In fine, when made known to them how the fugitives had mounted andridden off, both cried out together, in terms almost the same--

"Thanks to the Virgin, blessed Mother of God! We now know they aresafe. "

Their confidence was strengthened by further questioning, for thetrusted _cochero_ was able to tell them more. How his horses had beencaught, and brought back to him by two Hussars, one of whom he chancedto have a speaking acquaintance with. From the soldier he had learntall about the pursuit, after it had passed beyond him; how they hadsearched the _chapparal_, but fruitlessly; the latest reports being thatthe _escapados_ had got into the Pedregal. 

That was enough for the Countess, who, springing to her feet andclapping her hands, cried out--

"Joy, Luisita! They're safe, I'm sure. Ruperto knows the Pedregal, every path through it, as well as we the walks of the Alameda. I shallsleep this night better than the last, and you may do the same. "

So assured, Luisa Valverde, devout as was her wont, responded with aphrase of thanksgiving, arms crossed over her bosom, eyes turned to thepicture of Santa Guadalupe on the wall. 

Jose stood waiting, not for any reward. Recompense for the service hehad done them--so modestly declaring it--was not in his thoughts at thatmoment, though it might be after. But the Condesa was thinking of itthen. Sure to promise and contract, she said to him--

"Faithful fellow--courageous as faithful--take this; you've fairlyearned it. "

Whilst speaking, she drew the jewelled watch from her waist, and, passing the chain over her head, held it out to him. 

"And this too!" added the Donna Luisa, plucking a diamond ring from oneof her fingers, and presenting it at the same time. 

"No!" protested the faithful servitor. "Neither the one nor the other. Enough reward to me to know I've done your ladyship a service--if Ihave. "

"But, good Jose, " urged the Countess, "you must either take my watch orthe worth of it in gold _doblones_! That was the understanding, and Ishall insist on your adhering to it. "

"_Muy bein, Condesa_; I consent to that. But only on the condition thatthe gentlemen get safe off. Till we're sure of that, I beg yourladyship won't look upon me as a creditor. "

"If her ladyship should, " here put in a third personage of the sexfeminine, who had just entered upon the scene, "if she should, I'll paythe debt myself. I pay it now--there!"

It was Pepita who thus delivered herself, as she did so boundingforward, flinging her arms around his neck, and giving him a sonorouskiss upon the cheek! Then, as she released her lips after the smack, adding--

"I've given you that, _hombre_, for what? Why nothing more than doingyour duty. Ha, ha, ha!"

The laughter neither disconcerted nor vexed him. It was not scornful, while the kiss had been very sweet. Long-coveted, but hithertowithheld, he looked upon it as an earnest of many others to follow, witha reward he would more value than all the watches and rings in Mexico--the possession of Pepita herself. 

CHAPTER FORTY TWO. 

A HOLY BROTHERHOOD. 

"Where the deuce am I?"

It was Florence Kearney who asked this question, interrogating himself;time, the morning after their retreat up the mountain. He was lying ona low pallet, or rather bench of mason work, with a palm mat spread overit, his only coverlet the cloak he had brought with him from DonIgnacio's carriage. The room was of smallest dimensions, some eight ornine feet square, pierced by a single window, a mere pigeon-hole withoutsash or glass. 

He was yet only half awake, and, as his words show, with but a confusedsense of his whereabouts. His brain was in a whirl from the excitementthrough which he had been passing, so long sustained. Everything aroundseemed weird and dream-like. 

Rubbing his eyes to make sure it was a reality, and raising his headfrom the hard pillow, he took stock of what the room contained. An easytask that. Only a ricketty chair, on which lay a pair of duellingpistols--one of the pairs found under the carriage cushions--and his hathanging on its elbow. Not a thing more except a bottle, greasy aroundthe neck, from a tallow candle that had guttered and burnt out, standingon the uncarpeted stone floor beside his own boots, just as he had drawnthem off. 

Why he had not noticed these surroundings on the night before was due toextreme fatigue and want of sleep. Possibly, the Burgundy, mixed withthe Madeira and Old Pedro Ximenes, had something to do with it. In anycase he had dropped down upon the mat of palm, and became oblivious, almost on the moment of his entering this strange sleeping chamber, towhich the mayor-domo had conducted him. 

"Queer crib it is, " he continued to soliloquise, after making survey ofthe room and its containings, "for a bedroom. I don't remember everhaving slept in so small a one, except aboard ship, or in a prison-cell. How like the last it looks!"

It did somewhat, though not altogether. There were points ofdifference, as a niche in the wall, with a plaster cast on a plinth, apparently the image of some saint, with carvings in the woodwork, crosses, and other emblems of piety. 

"It must be an old convent or monastery, " he thought, after noticingthese. "Here in Mexico they often have them in odd, out-of-the-wayplaces, I've heard. Out of the way this place surely is, consideringthe climb we've had to reach it. Monks in it, too?" he added, recallingthe two men he had seen on the preceding night, and how they wherehabited. "A strange sort they seem, with a _captain_ at their head--myprison companion! Well, if it give us sanctuary, as he appears to thinkit will, I shall be but too glad to join the holy brotherhood. "

He lay a little longer, his eyes running around the room, to note thatthe rough lime-wash on its walls had not been renewed for years; greenmoss had grown upon them, and there were seams at the corners, stainsshowing were rainwater had run down. If a monastery, it was evidentlynot one in the enjoyment of present prosperity, whatever it might havebeen in the past. 

While still dreamily conjecturing about it, the door of his room wasgently pushed ajar, and so held by whoever had opened it. Turning hishead round, Kearney saw a man in long loose robes, with sandalled feetand shaven crown, girdle of beads, crucifix, cowl, and scapular--inshort, the garb of the monk with all its insignia. 

"I have come to inquire how you have slept, my son, " said the holy man, on seeing that he was awake. "I hope that the pure atmosphere of this, our mountain home--so different from that you've been so latelybreathing--will have proved conducive to your slumbers. "

"Indeed, yes, " rejoined he inquired after, conscious of having sleptwell. "I've had a good night's rest--the best allowed me for a longtime. But where--"

While speaking, he had dropped his feet to the floor, and raised himselferect on the side of the bed, thus bringing him face to face with thefriar. What caused him to leave the interrogatory unfinished was arecognition. The countenance he saw was a familiar one, as might beexpected after having been so close to his own--within a few feet ofit--for days past. No disguise of dress, nor changed tonsure, couldhinder identification of the man who had partaken of his chain in theAcordada; for he it was. 

"Oh! 'tis you, Don Ruperto!" exclaimed Kearney, suddenly changing tone. 

"The same, my son, " rejoined the other, with an air of mock gravity. 

At which the young Irishman broke out into a loud guffaw, saying:--

"Well, you're the last man I should ever have supposed to be a monk!"

He recalled some strong denunciations of the Holy Brethren he had heardpass the lips of his late fellow-prisoner. 

"Ah! Senor Don Florencio, in this our world of Mexico we are calledupon to play many parts, and make out home in many places. Yesterday, you knew me as a prisoner, like yourself in a loathsome gaol; to-day, you see me in a monastery. And no common monk, but an Abbot, for know, _amijo mio_, that I am the head of this establishment. But come! Asyour host I am not now playing the part I should. You must be halffamished; besides, your toilet needs attending to. For the first, breakfast will be ready by the time you have looked to the last. Here, Gregorio!" this was a call to the mayor-domo outside, who instantlyafter appeared at the door. "Conduct this gentleman to the lavatory, and assist him in making his ablutions. " Then again to Kearney: "If Imistake not, you will find a clean shirt there, with some other changesof raiment. And may I ask you to be expeditious? It has got to berather a late hour for breakfast, and the Holy Brethren will be gettinga little impatient for it. But, no doubt, your appetite will promptyou. _Hasta Luega_!"

With which salutation--the Mexican custom at parting for only a shortwhile--he passed out of the room, leaving his guest to be looked afterby Gregorio. 

Surrendering himself to the mayor-domo, Kearney was conducted to anouter room, in which he found a washstand and dressing-table, with toweland other toilet articles--all, however, of the commonest kind. Evenso, they were luxuries that had been long denied him--especially thewater, a constant stream of which ran into a stone basin from some puremountain spring. 

And, sure enough, the clean shirt was there, with a full suit ofclothes; velveteen jacket, _calzoneras calzoncillas_, scarf of Chinacrape--in short, the complete costume of a _ranchero_. A man of mediumsize, they fitted him nicely; and arrayed in them he made a veryhandsome appearance. 

"Now, your honour, " said the individual in charge of him, "allow me toshow you the Refectory. "

Another turn along the main passage brought them to the door, from whichissued a buzz of voices. His host had prepared him to expect company, and on stepping inside this door he saw it in the shape of sometwenty-five or thirty men, all in the garb of monks of the same order asRivas himself. 

The room was a large one, saloon shape, with a table standing centrally, around which were benches and chairs. A cloth was spread upon it, witha multifarious and somewhat heterogeneous array of ware--bottles andglasses being conspicuous; for it was after eleven o'clock, and the meal_almuerzo_, as much dinner as breakfast. The viands were being put uponit; three or four Indian youths, not in convent dress, passing themthrough a hatch that communicated with the kitchen, and from which alsocame a most appetising odour. 

All this the young Irishman took in with a sweep of his eye, whichinstantly after became fixed upon the friars who had faced towards him. They were standing in two or three groups, the largest gathered round anindividual who towered above all of them by the head and shoulders. Cris Rock it was, clean shaven, and looking quite respectable; indeed, better dressed than Kearney had seen him since he left off his NewOrleans "store" clothes. The Colossus was evidently an object of greatinterest to his new acquaintances; and, from the farcical look upontheir faces, it was clear they had been doing their best to "draw" him. With what success Kearney could not tell; though, from the knowledge hehad of his old comrade's cleverness, he suspected not much. There wasjust time for him to note the jovial air of the Brethren, so little inkeeping with the supposed gravity of the monastic character, when theAbbot entering led him up to them, and gave him a general introduction. 

"_Hermanos_!" he said, "let me present another of my comrades inmisfortune, the Senor Don Florencio Kearney--an _Irlandes_--who claimsthe hospitality of the convent. "

They all made bow, some pressing forward, and extending hands. 

But there was no time for dallying over salutations. By this severaldishes had been passed through the hatch, and were steaming upon thetable. So the Abbot took seat at its head, Kearney beside him; whilethe Texan was bestowed at its foot, alongside one who seemed to act asvice-chairman. 

If the table-cloth was not one of the finest damask, nor the warecostliest china and cut glass, the repast was worthy of such. In allthe world there is no _cuisine_ superior to that of Mexico. By reasonof certain aboriginal viands, which figured on the table of that Aztecsybarite, Montezuma, it beats the _cuisine_ of old Spain, on which thatof France is founded, and but an insipid imitation. 

The monks of this mountain retreat evidently knew how to live, courseafter course being passed through the hatch in a variety which seemed asif it would never end. There were pucheros, guisados, tomales, and halfa score of other dishes Kearney had never before heard of, much lesstasted. No wonder at their dinner of the preceding day having left such_debris_ for supper. 

And the wines were in correspondence--in quality, profusion, everything. To Kearney it recalled "Bolton Abbey in the olden time. " Nor evercould the monks of that ancient establishment on the Wharfe have drunkbetter wines, or laughed louder while quaffing them, than they whosehospitality he was receiving on the side of the Cerro Ajusco. 

Some strange speech, however, he heard passing around him, little inconsonance with what might be supposed to proceed from the lips ofreligious men. But, possibly, just such as came from those of theTintern and Bolton Brethren when around the refectory table. Not all ofit, though. If the talk was worldly, it savoured little of wickedness--far less than that of the cowled fraternity of olden times, ifchronicles are to be trusted. And never in convent hall could have beenheard such toast as that with which the breakfast was brought to aclose, when Rivas, rising to his feet, goblet in hand, the othersstanding up along with him, cried out--

"_Patria y Libertad_!"

Country and Liberty! Strange sentiment in such a place, and to bereceived with acclaim by such people!

CHAPTER FORTY THREE. 

WHAT ARE THEY?

The repast finished, the Holy Brethren, rising from the table together, forsook the Refectory. Some disappeared into cloisters on the sides ofthe great hallway, others strolled out in front, and seating themselveson benches that were about, commenced rolling and smoking cigarittos. 

The Abbot, excusing himself to his stranger guests, on plea of pressingbusiness, was invisible for a time. So they were permitted to betakethemselves apart. Good manners secured them this. The others naturallysupposed they might want a word in private, so no one offered to intrudeupon them. 

Just what they did want, and had been anxiously longing for. They hadmutually to communicate; questions to be asked, and counsel takentogether. Each was burning to know what the other thought of thecompany they had fallen into; the character of which was alikeperplexing to both. 

After getting hold of their hats they sauntered out by the great door, through which they had entered on the night before. The sun was now atmeridian height, and his beams fell down upon the patch of open groundin front of the monastery, for a monastery they supposed it must be. Aglance backward as they walked out from its walls showed itsarchitecture purely of the conventual style; windows with pointedarches, the larger ones heavy mullioned, and a campanile upon the roof. This, however, without bells, and partially broken down, as was much ofthe outer mason work everywhere. Here and there were walls crumbling todecay, others half-hidden under masses of creeping plants andcryptogams; in short, the whole structure seemed more or lessdilapidated. 

Soon they entered under the shadow of the trees; long-leaved evergreenpines loaded with parasites and epiphytes, among these several speciesof orchids--rare phenomenon in the vegetable world, that would havedelighted the eye of a botanist. As they wished to get beyond earshotof those left lounging by the porch, they continued on along a walkwhich had once been gravelled, but was now overgrown with weeds andgrass. It formed a cool arcade, the thick foliage meeting overhead, andscreening it from the rays of the sun. Following it for about a hundredyards or so, they again had the clear sky before them, and saw they wereon the brow of a steep slope--almost a precipice--which, after trendinga short distance right and left, took a turn back toward the mass of themountain. It was the boundary of the platform on which the buildingstood, with a still higher cliff behind. 

The point they had arrived at was a prominent one, affording view of thewhole valley of Mexico, that lay spread out like a picture at theirfeet. And such a picture! Nothing in all the panoramic world toexcel--if equal it. 

But as scenery was not in their thoughts, they gave it but a glance, sitting down with faces turned towards one another. For there wereseats here also--several rustic chairs under shady trees--it beingevidently a favourite loitering place of the friars. 

"Well, Cris, old comrade, " said Kearney, first to speak, "we've gonethrough a good deal this day or two in the way of change. What do youthink of these new acquaintances of ours?"

"Thar, Cap, ye put a puzzler. "

"Are they monks?"

"Wal, them is a sort o' anymals I hain't had much dealin's wi'; niverseed any till we kim inter Mexiko, 'ceptin' one or two as still hangsround San Antone in Texas. But this chile knows little u' thar ways, only from what he's heerin'; an' judgin' be that he'd say thar ain'tnerry monk among 'em. "

"What then? Robbers?"

"Thar, agin, Cap, I'm clean confuscated. From what we war told o' MrReevus in the gaol, they oughter be that. They sayed he war a captaino' _saltadores_, which means highwaymen. An' yet it do 'pear kewrousshould be sich. "

"From what I know of him, " rejoined Kearney, "what I learned yesterday, it would be curious indeed--remarkably so. I've reason to believe him agentleman born, and that his title of captain comes from his having beenan officer in the army. "

"That mou't be, an' still wouldn't contrary his havin' turned tot'other. Down by the Rio Grande, thar are scores o' Mexikin officerswho've did the same, from lootenants up to kurnels--ay, ginrals. Thar'sCanales, who commanded the whole cavalry brigade--the `Chaperal fox' aswe Texans call him--an' thar ain't a wuss thief or cut-throat fromMantamoras up to the mountains. An' what air ole Santy hisself but arobber o' the meanest an' most dastardly sort? So, 'tain't any sign o'honesty their bearing military titles. When they've a war on in tharrevolushionary way, they turn sogers, atween times takin' to the road. "

"Well, Cris, supposing these to be on the road now, what ought we to do, think you?"

"Neery use thinkin', Cap, since thar's no choice left us. 'Tain't diedog, or eet the hatchet; and this chile goes for chawin' the steel. Whativer they be, we're bound to stick to 'em, an' oughter be glad o'the chance, seein' we haint the shadder o' another. If tuk agin' we'dbe strung up or shot sure. Highwaymen or lowwaymen, they're the onlyones about these diggin's that kin gie us purtekshun, an' I reck'n wemay rely on them for that--so far's they're able. "

For a time Kearney was silent, though not thinking over what the Texanhad said, much of which had passed through his mind before. The trainof his reflections was carried further back, to the point where he wasfirst brought into contact with Rivas, by their legs getting linkedtogether. Then forward throughout the hours and incidents that cameafter, recalling everything that had occurred, in act as inconversation--mentally reviewing all, in an endeavour to solve theproblem that was puzzling them. 

Seeing him so occupied, and with a suspicion of how his thoughts wereworking, the Texan forebore further speech, and awaited the result. 

"If we've fallen among banditti, " Kearney at length said, "it will beawkward to get away from them. They'll want us to take a hand at theirtrade, and that wouldn't be nice. "

"Sartinly not, Cap; anything but agreeable to eyther o' us. It goesagin the grit o' a honest man to think o' belongin' to a band o'robbers. But forced to jine 'em, that 'ud be different. Besides, thething ain't the same in Mexico as 'twud be in Texas and the States. Hyar 'tisn't looked on as beein' so much o' a disgrace, s'long's theydon't practice cruelty. An' I've heern Mexikins say 'tain't wuss, noryet so bad, as the way some our own poltishuns an' lawyers plunder thepeople. I guess it be 'bout the same, when one gits used to it. "

To this quaint rigmarole of reasoning--not without reason in it, however, --Kearney only replied with a smile, allowing the Texan tocontinue; which he did, saying--

"After all, I don't think they're robbers any more than monks; if theybe, they're wonderfully well-behaved. A perliter set o' fellers orbetter kump'ny this chile niver war in durin' the hull coorse of hisexperience in Texas, or otherwhars. They ain't like to lead us intoanythin' very bad, in the way o' cruelty or killin'. So I say, let'sfreeze to 'em, till we find they ain't worthy of being froze to; then wemust gie 'em the slip somehow. "

"Ah! if we can, " said his fellow-filibuster doubtingly. "But that isthe thing for the far hereafter. The question is, what are we to donow?"

"No guess'n at all, Cap, as thar's no choosin' atween. We're boun' tobe robbers for a time, or whatsomever else these new 'quaintances o'ours be themselves. Thet's sure as shootin'. "

"True, " returned the other musingly. "There seems no help for it. It'sour fate, old comrade, though one, _I_ trust, we shall be able tocontrol without turning highwaymen. I don't think they are that. Ican't believe it. "

"Nor me neyther. One thing, howsomever, thet I hev obsarved air aleetle queery, an' sort o' in thar favour. "

"What thing?"

"Thar not hevin' any weemen among 'em. I war in the kitchen thismornin' 'fore ye war up, and kedn't see sign o' a petticoat about, thecookin' bein' all done by men sarvents. Thet, I've heern say, air theway wi' monks; but not wi' the other sort. What do you make o't, Cap?"

"I hardly know, Cris. Possibly the Mexican brigands, unlike those ofItaly, don't care to encumber themselves with a following of the fairsex. "

"On t'other hand, " pursued the Texan, "it seems to contrary their bein'o' the religious sort, puttin' out sentries as they do. Thar wor thatone we passed last night, and this mornin' I seed two go out wi' guns, one takin' each side, and soon arter two others comin' in as if they'dbeen jest relieved from thar posts. Thar's a path as leads down fromboth sides o' the building. "

"All very strange, indeed, " said Kearney. "But no doubt we shall soonget explanation of it. By the way, " he added, changing tone with thesubject, "where is the dwarf? What have they done with him?"

"That I can't tell eyther, Cap. I haven't seen stime o' the crittersince he war tuk away from us by that head man o' the sarvents, and Idon't wish ever to set eyes on the skunk again. Cris Rock niver was sotired o' a connexshun as wi' thet same. Wagh!"

"I suppose they've got him shut up somewhere, and intend so keepinghim--no doubt for good reasons. Ah! now we're likely to hear somethingabout the disposal of ourselves. Yonder comes the man who can tell us!"

This, as the _soi-disant_ Abbot was seen approaching along the path. 

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. 

THE ABBOT. 

"_Amigo_, " said their host, as he rejoined them, speaking to Kearney, who could alone understand him, "permit me to offer you a cigar--yourcomrade also--with my apologies for having forgotten that you smoked. Here are both Havannahs and Manillas, several brands of each. So choosefor yourself. "

The mayor-domo, who attended him, carrying a huge mahogany case, hadalready placed it upon one of the rustic benches, and laid open the lid. 

"Thanks, holy father, " responded Kearney, with a peculiar smile. "Ifyou have no objection, I'll stick to the Imperadoes. After smoking oneof them a man need have no difficulty as to choice. "

At which he took an "Emperor" out of the case. 

"I'm glad you like them, " observed the generous donor, helping him to alight. "They ought to be of good quality, considering what they cost, and where they come from. But, Don Florencio, don't let the question ofexpense hinder you smoking as many as you please. My outlay on them was_nil_--they were a contribution to the monastery, though not exactly acharitable one. "

He said this with a sort of inward laugh, as though some strange historyattached to the Imperadoes. 

"A forced contribution, then, " thought the Irishman, the remark havingmade a strange, and by no means pleasant impression upon him. 

The Texan had not yet touched the cigars, and when with a gesture theinvitation was extended to him, he hung back, muttering to Kearney--

"Tell him, Cap, I'd purfar a pipe ef he ked accomerdate me wi' thet 'erearticle. "

"What says the Senor Cristoforo?" asked the Abbot. 

"He'd prefer smoking a pipe, if you don't object, and there be such athing convenient. "

"Oh! _un pipa_. I shall see. Gregorio!"

He called after the mayor-domo, who was returning toward the house. 

"Never mind, reverend Father, " protested Kearney; "content yourself witha cigar, Cris, and don't give trouble. "

"I'm sorry I spoke o' it, " said the Texan. "I oughter be only too gledto git a seegar, an' it may be he wudn't mind my chawin', stead o'smokin' it! My stammuck feels starved for a bit o' bacca. Whatwouldn't I gie jest now for a plug o' Jeemes's River!"

"There, take one of the cigars and eat it if you like; I'm sure he'llhave no objection. "

Availing himself of the leave thus vicariously accorded the Texan pickedout one of the largest in the collection, and, biting off about a third, commenced crunching it between his teeth, as though it was a piece ofsugar-stick. This to the no small amusement of the Mexican, who, however, delicately refrained from making remark. 

Nor was Cris hindered from having a smoke as well as a "chew, "--themayor-domo soon after appearing with a pipe, a somewhat eccentric affairhe had fished out from the back regions of the establishment. 

Meanwhile their host had himself lit one of the "Emperors, " and wassmoking away like a chimney. A somewhat comical sight at any time, orin any place, is a monk with a cigar in his mouth. But that the Abbotof the Cerro Ajusco was no anchorite they were already aware, and sawnothing in it to surprise them. 

Seating himself beside Kearney, with face turned towards the valley, heput the question--

"What do you think of that landscape, Don Florencio?"

"Magnificent! I can't recall having looked upon lovelier, or one withgreater variety of scenic detail. It has all the elements of thesublime and beautiful. "

The young Irishman was back in his college classics with his countrymanBurke. 

"Make use of this, " said the Abbot, offering a small telescope which hedrew out. "'Twill give you a better view of things. "

Taking the glass and adjusting it to his sight, Kearney commenced makingsurvey of the valley, now bringing one portion of it within the field oftelescopic vision, then another. 

"Can you see the Pedregal?" asked the Abbot. "It's close in to themountain's foot. You'll recognise it by its sombre grey colour. "

"Certainly I see it, " answered the other, after depressing thetelescope. "And the thicket we came through on its further side--quitedistinctly. "

"Look to the right of that, then you'll observe a large house, standingin the middle of the maguey fields. Have you caught it?"

"Yes; why do you ask?"

"Because that house has an interest for me--a very special one. Whom doyou suppose it belongs to; or I should rather say did, and ought tobelong to?"

"How should I know, holy father?" asked Kearney, thinking it somewhatstrange his being so interrogated. "True, " responded the Abbot; "howcould you, my son? But I'll tell you. That _magueyal_ is mine byright, though by wrong 'tis now the property of our late host, theGovernor of the Acordada. His reward at the last confiscation forbasely betraying his country and our cause. "

"What cause?" inquired the young Irishman, laying aside the glass, andshowing more interest in what he heard than that he had been looking at. Country and cause! These were not the words likely to be on the lipsof either monk or highwayman. 

And that the man who had spoken to him was neither one nor other he hadfuller proof in what was now further said. 

"A cause, Senor Irlandes, for which I, Ruperto Rivas, am ready to laydown life, if the sacrifice be called for, and so most--I may say all--of those you've just met at _almuerzo_. You heard it proclaimed in thetoast, `Patria y Libertad!'"

"Yes. And a grand noble sentiment it is. One I was gratified to hear. "

"And surprised as well. Is not that so, _amigo_?"

"Well, to be frank with you, holy father, I confess to something of thesort. "

"Not strange you should, my son. No doubt you're greatly perplexed atwhat you've seen and heard since you came up here, with much before. But the time has come to relieve you; so light another cigar andlisten. "

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. 

THE FREE LANCES. 

"Try a Manilla this time, " said the Mexican, as Kearney was reaching outto take a cigar from the case. "Most people believe that the best canonly come from Cuba. A mistake, that. There are some made in thePhilippine Islands equal--in my opinion, superior--to any Havannahs. Ispeak of a very choice article, which don't ever get into the hands ofthe dealers, and's only known to the initiated. Some of our _ricos_import them by way of Acapulco. Those are a fair sample. "

The young Irishman made trial of the weed thus warmly recommended; todiscover what contradicted all his preconceived ideas in the smokingline. He had always heard it said that the choicest cigars areHavannahs; but, after a few whiffs from that Manilla, which had neverseen a cigar shop, he was willing to give up the "Imperadores. " Hishost, lighting one of the same, thus proceeded: "_Pues, caballero_; togive you the promised explanation. That the monks of my community areof an order neither very devout nor austere, you've already observed, nodoubt, and may have a suspicion they're not monks at all. Soldiers, every man; most having seen service, and many who have done gallantdeeds. When I speak of them as soldiers, you will understand it in itstrue sense, Senor. With one or two exceptions, all have heldcommissions in our army, and with a like limitation, I may say all aregentlemen. The last revolution, which has again cursed our country byrestoring its chronic tyrant, Santa Anna, of course threw them out; themajority, as myself, being proscribed, with a price set upon theirheads. "

"Then you're not robbers?"

This was said without thought, the words involuntarily escapingKearney's lips. But the counterfeit abbot, so far from feeling offenceat them, broke out into a laugh, good-humouredly rejoining--

"Robbers, _amigo mio_! who told you we were that?"

The Irishman felt abashed, seeing he had committed himself. 

"Don Ruperto, " he exclaimed, hastening to make the best of his blunder, "I owe you every apology. It arose from some talk I heard passingaround in the prison. Be assured, I neither did nor could believe it. "

"Thank you, Senor!" returned the Mexican. "Your apologies areappreciated. And, " he added, putting on a peculiar smile, "in a waysuperfluous. I believe we do enjoy that repute among our enemies; and, to confess the truth, not without some reason. "

Kearney pricked up his ears, perplexity, with just a shade of trouble, again appearing upon his face. He said nothing, however, allowing theother to proceed. 

"_Carramba_, yes!" continued the proscript. "'Tis quite true we do alittle in the plundering line--now and then. We need doing it, DonFlorencio. But for that, I mightn't have been able to set so good abreakfast before you; nor wines of such quality, nor yet thesedelectable cigars. If you look to the right down there, you'll see the_pueblo_ of San Augustin, and just outside its suburbs, a large yellowhouse. From that came our last supply of drinkable and smokeablematerials, including those here, mahogany and everything. A forcedcontribution, as I've hinted at. But, Senor, I should be sorry to haveyou think we levy blackmail indiscriminately. He from whom they weretaken is one of our bitterest enemies; equally an enemy of our country. 'Twas all in the way of reprisal; fair, as you'll admit, when you cometo comprehend the circumstances. "

"I comprehend them now, " returned the listener, relieved, "quite; and Itrust you'll accept my apology. "

"_Sans arriere pensee_, " responded the Mexican, who could speak French, if not English, "I do frankly, freely. No reproach to you for supposingus robbers. I believe many others do, among whom we make appearance. Southward, however, in the State of Oaxaca, we are better known as `theFree Lances'; a title not so appropriate, either, since our weapons areonly at the disposal of the Republic--our lives as well. "

"But, " questioned Kearney, "may I ask why you are habited as I now seeyou?"

"For a good reason, _amigo_. It adds to our security, giving all sortsof opportunities. Throughout Mexico, the cowl of the monk is the bestpassport a man could be provided with. Wearing it, we go about amongthe mountain villages without suspicion, the people believing that thisold monastery, so long abandoned as to have been forgotten, has againbecome the dwelling-place of a religious order. Of course we don'tallow any of the rustics to approach it. Luckily, they are not curiousenough to care for that, against the toil of climbing up here. If theyattempt it, we have sentinels to stay them. For ourselves, we havelearned to play the part of the holy friar, so that there would bedifficulty in detecting the counterfeit. As it chances, we have with usone or two who once wore the cowl. These perverts have taught us allthe tricks and passwords current among the fraternity. Hitherto theyhave availed us, and I trust will, till the time arrives for our castingoff our cassock, and putting on the soldier's coat. That day is notdistant, Don Florencio; nearer than I expected, from what my comradeshave told me since we came up. The State of Oaxaca is disaffected; as, indeed, the whole southern side of Acapulco, and a _grito_ isanticipated ere long--possibly within a month. Alvarez, who controls inthat quarter, will be the man to raise it; and the old Pinto chief willexpect to be joined by the `Free Lances. ' Nor will he be disappointed. We are all burning to be at it. So, caballero, you see how it is withus. And now, " he added, changing tone and looking his listenerearnestly in the face, "I have a question to put to yourself. "

"What?" asked the Irishman, seeing that he hesitated putting it. 

"Will you be one of us?"

It was now Kearney's turn to hesitate about the answer he ought to make. A proposition fraught with such consequences required consideration. To what would he be committing himself if he consented? And what if heshould refuse? Besides, under the circumstances, was he free to refuse?That of itself was a question, a delicate one. He and his comrade, Cris Rock, owed their escape to this strange man, whatever he might be;and to separate from him now, even under full permission, would savourof ingratitude. Still more, after listening to what was further said. For, noting his embarrassment, and deeming it natural enough, theMexican hastened to relieve him. 

"If my proposal be not to your liking, Senor Irlandes, say so; andwithout fear of offence. All the same, you may rest assured of ourprotection while you remain with us; and I shall do what I can to getyou safe out of the country. At all events, I won't send you back tothe Acordada gaol, and the tender care of its governor. So you canspeak frankly, without reserve. Are you willing to be one of us?"

"I am!" was the answer, given without further hesitation. 

Why should he have either hesitated or said nay? In the heart of ahostile country, an escaped prisoner, his life, as he felt sure, forfeited should he be retaken. Joining Rivas and his Free Lances mightbe his sole chance of saving it. Even had they been banditti, he couldnot have done better then. 

"Yes, Don Ruperto, " he added; "if you deem me worthy of belonging toyour brotherhood, be it so. I accept your invitation. "

"And your comrade, Don Cristoforo. Will he be of the same mind, thinkyou?"

"Sure to be. I take it I can answer for him. But you shall hear foryourself. Rock!"

He called to the Texan, who, not understanding their dialogue, hadsauntered apart, chewing away at the Imperador. 

"Wal, Cap; what's up now?" he asked on rejoining them. 

"They're no robbers, Cris, " said Kearney, speaking freely in their owntongue. 

"Gled to hear it. I didn't think they war--noways. Nor monks neyther, I guess?"

"Nor monks. "

"What then, Cap?"

"The same as yourself. Patriots who have been fighting for theircountry, and got defeated. That's why they are here--in hiding. "

"Yes, Cap; I see it all, clar as coon's track on a mud bar. Enemies o'ole Santy, who've got beat it thar last risin'. "

"Just so. But they expect another rising soon, and wish us to jointhem. I've agreed, and said so. What say you?"

"Lordy, Cap; what a questun to be axed, an' by yurself! Sure this chileair boun' to stick to ye, whatsomever ye do. Ef they'd been brigants, Ished 'a put my conscience in my pocket, and goe'd in wi' 'em all thesame; s'long you're agreed. Nor I wudn't 'a minded turning monk for aspell. But men who intend foughtin' for freedom? Haleluyah! Cris Rockair all thar! Ye may tell him so. "

"He consents, " said Kearney, reporting to the Mexican; "and willingly asmyself. Indeed, Don Ruperto, we ought both to regard it as a grace--anhonour--to be so associated, and we shall do the best we can to showourselves worthy of it. "

"_Mil gracias, Senor_! The grace and honour are all given to us. Twosuch _valientes_, as I know you to be, will be no slight acquisition toour strength. And now, may I ask you to assume the garb which, as yousee, is our present uniform? That by way of precaution for the time. You'll find suitable raiment inside. I've given Gregorio orders to getit ready. So you see, _Camarades_, I've been counting upon you. "

"Gehosofat!" exclaimed the Texan, when told of the dress he was expectedto put on. "What wi' New Orleens store close, an' prison duds, an' thelike, this chile hev had a goodish wheen o' changes since he strippedoff his ole huntin' shirt. An' now a-goin' in for a monk! Wal; tho' Imayn't be the most sanctified, I reck'n I'll be the tallest in tharmon'stery. "

CHAPTER FORTY SIX. 

SAINT AUGUSTINE OF THE CAVES. 

One of the pleasantest villages in the valley of Mexico is San Augustinde las Cuevas--_Tlalpam_ by Aztec designation--both names due to someremarkable caverns in the immediate neighbourhood. It is some ten ortwelve miles from the capital, on the southern or Acapulco road, justwhere this, forsaking the valley level, begins to ascend the Sierra, passing over which by Cruz del Marques, it continues on through the_tierras calentes_ of Cuernavaca and Guerrero to the famed port of thePacific. 

San Augustin is a _pueblo_, endowed with certain municipal privileges. It boasts of an _alcalde-mayor_ with other corporate officers, and astaff of alguezils, or policemen. 

The heads of departments are mostly men of pure Spanish race--"gente derazon, " as they proudly proclaim themselves--though many are in realityof mixed blood, Mestizos. Of this are the better class of shopkeepers, few in number, the _gente de razon_ at best forming a scarce discernibleelement in the population, which is mainly made up of the brownaborigines. 

At a certain season of the year, however, paler complexions show in theascendant. This during carnival time--"_Las Pascuas_. " Then thestreets of San Augustin are crowded with gay promenaders; whilecarriages and men on horseback may be seen in continuous stream passingto and fro between it and the capital. In Las Pascuas week, one daywith another, half Mexico is there engaged in a gambling orgie, asLondoners at Epsom during the Derby. More like Homburg and Monaco, though; since the betting at Tlalpam is not upon the swiftness ofhorses, but done with dice and cards. The national game, "monte, " therefinds fullest illustration, grand marquees being erected for its play--real temples erected to the goddess Fortuna. Inside these may be seencrowds of the strangest composition, in every sense heterogeneous;military officers, generals and colonels, down to the lowest grade, evensergeants and corporals, sitting at the same table and staking on thesame cards; members of Congress, Senators, Cabinet Ministers, and, uponoccasions, the Chief of the State, jostling the ragged _lepero_, and notunfrequently standing elbow to elbow with the footpad and salteador!--Something stranger still, ladies compose part of this miscellaneousassemblage; dames of high birth and proud bearing, but in this carnivalof cupidity not disdaining to "punt" on the _sota_ or _cavallo_, whilebrushing skirts with bare-armed, barefooted rustic damsels, and_poblanas_, more elaborately robed, but with scantier reputation. 

After all, it is only Baden on the other side of the Atlantic; and itmay be said in favour of San Augustin, the fury lasts for only a fewdays, instead of a whole season. Then the _monte_ banks disappear, withtheir dealers and croupiers; the great tents are taken down; thegamesters, gentle and simple, scatter off, most going back to the city;and the little _pueblo_ Tlalpam, resuming its wonted tranquillity, isscarce thought of till Carnival comes again. 

In its normal condition, though some might deem it rather dull, it isnevertheless one of the pleasantest residential villages in the Valley. Picturesquely situated at the foot of the southern Sierras, which form abold mountain background, it has on the other side water scenery in thecurious Laguna de Xochimilco, while the grim Pedregal also approachesit, giving variety to its surroundings. 

Besides its fixed population there is one that may be termed floating orintermittent; people who come and go. These are certain "ricos, " whochiefly affect its suburbs, where they have handsome houses--_casas decampo_. Not in hundreds, as at San Anjel and Tacubaya, Tlalpam being ata greater and more inconvenient distance from the capital. Still thereare several around it of first-class, belonging to _familiasprincipales_, though occupied by them only at intervals, and for a fewdays or weeks at a time. 

One of these, owned by Don Ignacio Valverde, was a favourite place ofresidence with him; a tranquil retreat of which he was accustomed toavail himself whenever he could get away from his ministerial duties. Just such an interregnum had arisen some time after the stirringincidents we have recorded, and he went to stay at his San Augustinhouse with his daughter, the Condesa Almonte going with them as theirguest. Since their last appearance before the reader, all three hadpassed through scenes of trial. An investigation had been gone intoregarding the Calle de Plateros affair--private, however, before SantaAnna himself, the world not being made the wiser for it. Its resultswere all in their favour, thanks to the stern, stubborn fidelity ofJose, who lied like a very varlet. Such a circumstantial story told he, no one could suspect him of complicity in the escape of the _forsados_;far less that his mistress, or the Condesa Almonte had to do with it. 

Don Ignacio, too, had done his share to hinder discovery of the truth. For, in the end, it was found necessary to take him into the secret, themissing cloak and pistols, with several mysterious incidents, callingfor explanation. But in making a clean breast of it, his daughter hadfelt no fear of being betrayed by him. He was not the father to dealharshly with his child; besides, it was something more--a real danger. In addition, she knew how he was affected towards the man she had aidedto escape--that he held Don Florencio in highest esteem; looked upon himas a dear friend, and in a certain tacit way had long ago signifiedapproval of him for a son-in-law. All these thoughts passed throughLuisa Valverde's mind while approaching her father, and steeling herselfto make confession of that secret she might otherwise have kept fromhim. 

The result was not disappointing. Don Ignacio consented to thedeception, and they were saved. Whatever the suspicions of Santa Annaand his adjutant, both were baffled about that affair, at least for thetime. 

Alike had they been frustrated in their pursuit of the _escapados_. Despite the most zealous search through the Pedregal and elsewhere, these could not be found, nor even a trace of them. Still, they werenot given up. Every town and village in the valley, in the mountainsaround, and the country outside were visited by soldiers or spies--everyspot likely to harbour the fugitives. Pickets were placed everywhereand patrols despatched, riding the roads by night as by day, all provingabortive. 

After a time, however, this vigorous action became relaxed. Not thatthey who had dictated were less desirous of continuing it; but because amatter of more importance than mere personal spite or vengeance was soonlikely to declare itself, and threaten their own safety. Talk wasbeginning to be heard, though only in whispers, and at a far distancefrom the capital, of a new _pronunciamento_ in preparation. And inmaking counter-preparations, the Dictator had now enough to occupy allhis energies; not knowing the day or the hour he might again hear thecry he so dreaded, "Patria y Libertad. "

Meanwhile the people had ceased to speak of the stirring episode whichhad occurred in the Calle de Plateros; thought strange only from the oddcircumstances attendant, and the fact of two of the fugitives being_Tejanos_. The city of Mexico has its daily newspapers, and on themorning after a full account of it appeared in _El Diario_ and _ElMonitor_. For all it was but the topic of a week; in ten days no moreheard of it; in a month quite forgotten, save by those whom it speciallyconcerned. So varied are the events, so frequent the changes, sostrange the Cosas de Mexico!

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN. 

OVER THE CLIFF. 

For some time after their arrival at the old monastery, neither Kearneynor Cris Rock saw aught of their late "fourth fellow" prisoner--thehunchback. They cared not to inquire after him; the Texan repeatinghimself by saying, --"This chile don't want ever to sit eyes on his uglypictur agin. " They supposed that he was still there, however, somewhereabout the building. 

And so was he, with a chain attached to his leg, the same he had sharedwith Rock, its severed end now padlocked to a ring bolt; and theapartment he occupied had as much of the prison aspect as any cell inthe Acordada. No doubt, in days gone by, many a refractory brother hadpined and done penance therein for breach of monastic discipline. 

Why the mis-shapen creature was so kept needs little explanation; forthe same reason as prompted to bringing him thither. Helpless as hemight appear, he was not harmless; and Don Ruperto knew that to restorehim to liberty would be to risk losing his own, with something more. Though safely bestowed, however, no severity was shown him. He had hismeals regularly, and a bed to sleep on, if but a pallet, quite as goodas he had been accustomed to. Moreover, after some time had elapsed, hewas relieved from this close confinement during the hours of the day. Aclever actor, and having a tongue that could "wheedle with the devil, "he had wheedled with the mayor-domo to granting him certain indulgences;among them being allowed to spend part of his time in the kitchen andscullery. Not in idleness, however, but occupied with work for which hehad proved himself well qualified. It was found that he had once been"boots" in a _posado_, which fitted him for usefulness in many ways. 

In the _cocina_ of the old convent his temper was sorely tried, theother "mozos" making cruel sport of him. But he bore it with a meeknessvery different to what he had shown while in the Acordada. 

Thus acquitting himself, Gregorio, who had him in special charge, beganto regard him as a useful if not ornamental addition to his domesticstaff of the establishment. Notwithstanding, the precaution was stillcontinued of locking him at night and re-attaching the chain to hisankle. This last was more disagreeable than aught else he had toendure. He could bear the jibes of his fellow-scullions, but thatfetter sorely vexed him; as night after night he was accustomed to sayto the mayor-domo as he was turning the key in its clasp. 

"It's so uncomfortable, Senor Don Gregorio, " was his constantlyrecurring formula. "Keeps me from sleeping and's very troublesome whenI want to turn over, as I often do on account of the pains in my poorhumped shoulders. Now, why need you put it on? Surely you're notafraid of me trying to get away? Ha, ha! that would be turning one'sback upon best friends. _Cascaras_! I fare too well here to think ofchanging quarters. Above all, going into the Acordada; where I'd haveto go sure, if I were to show my face in the city again. Oh no, Senor!you don't catch me leaving this snug crib, so long's you allow me toboard and bed in it. Only I'd like you to let me off from that nastything. It's cold too; interferes with my comfort generally. Do, goodDon Gregorio! For this one night try me without it. And if you're notsatisfied with the result, then put it on ever after, and I won'tcomplain, I promise you. "

In somewhat similar forms he had made appeals for many nights insuccession, but without melting the heart of the "Good Don Gregorio. "

At length, however, it proved effectual. Among various other avocationshe had been a _Zapartero_, of the class cobbler, and on a certain daydid service to the mayor-domo by mending his shoes. For which hereceived payment in the permission to pass that night without beingdiscommoded by the chain. 

"It's so very kind of you, Don Gregorio!" he said, when made aware ofthe grace to be given to him. "I ought to sleep sound this night, anyhow. But whether I do or not, I shall pray for you before going tobed all the same. _Buenas noches_!"

It was twilight outside, but almost total darkness within the cell, asthe mayor-domo turned to go out of it. Otherwise he might have seen onthe dwarfs features an expression calculated to make him repent his actof kindness, and instantly undo it. Could he have divined the thoughtsat that moment passing through Zorillo's mind, the clasp would havequickly closed around the latter's leg, despite all gratitude due to himfor the patching of the shoes. 

"If I can get out, " he commenced in mental soliloquy, as the footfall ofthe mayor-domo died away in the distant corridor, "out and away fromthem, my fortune's made; all sorts of good things in store for me. Fromthis time forth I needn't fear to present myself at the door of theAcordada; walk right into it. No danger of Don Pedro keeping me therenow. Instead, I should be sent out again with a free pardon and a fullpurse. _Chingara_, talk of a cat in the cupboard, here are a score ofthem--half a hundred! And when I let them out--aha!"

He paused; then rising to his feet, moved across to the door, and laidhis ear against it to listen. He heard sounds, but they were sounds ofmerriment--the counterfeit monks at their evening meal--and did notconcern him. 

"What a bit of luck it may turn out, after all, my getting coupled tothat great brute and brought here! That is, if all goes well, and I cangive them the slip. First, to make sure about the possibility ofgetting out of this hole. _Carrai_! I may be counting my chickens inthe eggs. "

Leaving the door, he glided across to the window, and set himself squareagainst it, as if to measure its breadth by that of his own body. Itwas but a slit, unglazed, a single iron bar, placed vertically, dividingthe aperture into two. Without removing this he could not possibly passthrough. But he had the means to remove it; that file, already known tothe reader, which he had contrived to get possession of, and for dayskept secret in his cell. First, however, he must see whether it wasworth while using it; for during all the time of his being there he hadnever been allowed an opportunity to approach the window and look out. 

Leaning forward into the recess, he thrust his head between the bar andjamb, so far out as to give him a view of the ground below. This wassolid rock, the crest of a steep slope, from which the wall rose asabove a buttress. But there was a ledge, some ten or twelve feet underthe sill, narrow, but wide enough to afford footing, which led off tomore level ground. How was he to reach it?

He knew, or he would not have acted as he now did. For without spendinganother second in the survey, he drew back from the window, plunged hishand under his bed mat, drew forth the file, and commenced rasping awayat the bar. Not noisily or in any excited haste. Even if the obstaclewere removed, the time had not come for his attempt to pass out. Hewould wait for an hour after midnight, when all had gone to their beds. 

Eaten with rust, the iron was easily sawed through, a clean cut beingmade near its lower end. Then, laying aside the file, and grasping thebar, he wrenched it out of the solderings. If diminutive in body, hisarms were sinewy and strong as those of a coal-heaver. 

This task accomplished, he turned to his pallet and taking up the oldblanket allowed him for a covering, began to tear it into strips. Hemeant to make a rope of it to lower himself down outside. But findingit quite rotten, and doubting whether it would bear his weight, hedesisted and sat for a time considering. Not long till he bethoughthimself of something more suitable for his purpose--the chain. 

"Bah!" he exclaimed, tossing aside the rags he had commenced splicingtogether, "why didn't I think of that? Well, it's not too late yet. Good three yards--long enough. And the stupid has left the key behind, which fits both ends. So, Mr Chain, considering the world of worry andtrouble you've been to me, it's time, and only fair, you should do me agood turn by way of recompense. After you've done it, I'll forgiveyou. "

While muttering this quaint apostrophe, he commenced groping about overthe floor--not for the chain, but the key, which he knew Gregorio hadleft, after releasing his leg from the clasp. The mayor-domo had eitherforgotten, or did not think it was worth while taking it away. 

Having found it, he felt his way to the ring bolt, and unlocking theclasp at that end, returned to the window, taking the chain with him. Having made one end fast around the stump of the bar, he lowered theother down outside, cautiously, without a tinkle of its links. And nowagain looking out and below, he was delighted to see that it reachedwithin a foot or two of the ledge. All this done, he once more sat downon the side of the bed, to await the hour of midnight. 

But he was not long quiescent, when a thought occurring caused him toresume action. 

"Why not try it now?" he mentally interrogated. "They're all in theRefectory, having a fine time of it, drinking their famous wines. Somegrand occasion, I heard one of the _mozos_ say. There mightn't be abetter chance for me than this very minute--maybe not so good. _Carramba_! I'll risk it now. "

Quickly at the words he glided back to the window, climbed up into it, and squeezing out through the aperture, let himself down on the chain, link by link, as a monkey making descent of a _lliana_ in the forests ofthe _tierra caliente_. 

Soon as he found himself safe landed he let go the chain, and after aminute or so spent in silent reconnaissance of the ledge, commencedmoving off along it. 

Right he was in choosing that early hour, for the way he must needs takeled out into the open ground, in front of the building, where at a laterone a watch would have been stationed. There was none there now, andwithout stop or challenge he passed on and down. 

Though they had never allowed him to go outside the building, heperfectly remembered the path by which he and the others had reached it, on that memorable night after their escape from the chain-gang. Herecalled the two steep slopes, one above the other, with a narrow shelfbetween, on which they encountered the sentinel, who had hailed, "_Quienviva_?"

Sure to be one there now, and to such hail what answer could he make?

On this he reflected while descending the upper slope. The darkness dueto the overshadowing trees made it necessary for him to go slowly, sogiving him time. But it did not hinder his keeping to the path. Withhis long arms like the tentacles of an octopus he was able to direct hiscourse, now and then using them to grasp overhanging branches, or theparasites dependent therefrom. Withal he went cautiously, and sosilently, that the sentinel--for sure enough one was there--heard nonoise to warn him of an enemy behind. In his monkish garb, he wasstanding on the outer edge of the shelf rock, his face turned to thevalley, which was just beginning to show silvery white under the rays ofa rising moon. Perhaps, like Don Ruperto, he was gazing on some spot, ahouse endeared to him as the home of his childhood; but from which, asthe leader of the Free Lances, he had been bereft by the lastconfiscation. Possibly he was indulging in the hope of its being soonrestored to him, but least of all dreaming of danger behind. 

It was there, notwithstanding--in fiendish shape and close proximity. Acreature squatted like a toad, human withal, saying to himself--

"What wouldn't I give for a knife with a blade six inches long!"

Then, with a sudden change of thought, seeing the chance to do withoutthe knife, making a dash forward, with the ape-like arms extended, andpushing the sentinel over!

The cry that came from the latter, on feeling the impulse from behind, was stifled as he went whirling to the bottom of the cliff. 

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. 

ON DOWN THE MOUNTAIN. 

"Dead!" muttered the inhuman wretch, as he stood upon the spot lateoccupied by his victim, looking down over the cliff. "Dead he must be;unless a man can fall two hundred feet and still live; which isn'tlikely. That clears the way, I take it; and unless I have the ill luckto meet some one coming up--a straggler--it'll be all right. As soundascends, I ought to hear them before they could _see_ me. I shall keepmy ears open. "

Saying which he _commenced_ the descent of the _second_ slope, proceeding in the same cautious way as before. 

The path was but a ledge, which, after running fifty yards in a directline, made an abrupt double back in the opposite direction, all thewhile obliquing downwards. Another similar zig-zag, with a like lengthof declivity traversed, and he found himself at the cliff's base, amongshadowy, thick standing trees. He remembered the place, and that beforereaching it on their way up they had followed the trend of the cliff formore than a quarter of a mile. So, taking this for his guide, he kepton along the back track. 

Not far, before seeing that which brought him to a stop. If he hadentertained any doubt about the sentinel being dead, it would have beenresolved now. There lay the man's body among the loose rocks, not onlylifeless, but shapeless. A break in the continuity of the timber letthe moonlight through, giving the murderer a full view of him he hadmurdered. 

The sentinel had fallen upon his back, and lay with his face upward, hiscrushed body doubled over a boulder; the blood was welling from hismouth and nostrils, and the open eyes glared ghastly in the white, weirdlight. It was a sight to inspire fear in the mind of an ordinaryindividual, even in that of a murderer. But it had no effect on thisstrange _lusus_ of humanity, whose courage was equal to his cruelty. Instead of giving the body a wide berth, and scared-like stealing past, he walked boldly up to it, saying in apostrophe--

"So you're there! Well, you need not blame me, but your luck. If Ihadn't pushed you over, you'd have shot me like a dog, or brained mewith the butt of your gun. Aha! I was too much for you, Mr Monk orsoldier, whichever you were, for you're neither now. 

"Just possible, " he continued, changing the form of his monologue, "hemay have a purse; the which I'm sure to stand in need of before thistime to-morrow. If without money, his weapons may be of use to me. "

With a nimbleness which bespoke him no novice at trying pockets, he soontouched the bottom of all those on the body, to find them empty. 

"Bah!" he ejaculated, drawing back with a disappointed air, "I mighthave known there was nothing in them. Whatever cash they've had upthere has been spent long ago, and their wine will soon be out too. Hisgun I don't care for; besides, I see it's broken;--yes, the stocksnapped clean off. But this stiletto, it's worth taking with me. Evenif I shouldn't need it as a weapon, it looks like a thing Mr Pawnbrokerwould appreciate. "

Snatching the dagger--a silver-hilted one--from the corpse of itsill-starred owner, he secreted it inside his tattered rag of a coat, andwithout delay proceeded on. 

Soon after he came to a point where the path, forsaking the cliff, turned to the left, down the slope of the mountain. He knew that wouldtake him into the Pedregal, where he did not desire to go. Besides hisdoubts of being able to find the way through the lava field, there wasno particular need for his attempting so difficult a track. All hewanted was to get back to the city by the most direct route, and as soonas possible into the presence of a man of whom during late days he hadbeen thinking much. For from this man he expected much, in return for atale he could tell him. It must be told direct, and for this reason allcaution was required. He might fall into hands that would not onlyhinder him from relating it in the right quarter, but prevent histelling it at all. 

Just where the path diverged to the left, going down to the Pedregal, amass of rocks rose bare above the tops of the trees. Clambering to itssummit he obtained a view of what lay below; the whole valley bathed inbright moonlight, green meadows, fields of maize, and maguey, greatsheets of water with haze hanging over them, white and gauzy as a bridalveil. The city itself was distinguishable at a long distance, and inplaces nearer specklings of white telling of some _pueblita_, or singlespots where stood a _rancho_ or _hacienda_. Closer still, almost underhis feet, a clump of those mottlings was more conspicuous; which herecognised as the _pueblo_ of San Augustin. A narrow ribbon-like stripof greyish white passing through it, and on to the city, he knew to bethe Great Southern or Acapulco Road, which enters the capital by the_garita_ of San Antonio de Abad. This route he decided on taking. 

Having made note of the necessary bearings, he slipped back down theside of the rock, and looked about for a path leading to the right. 

Not long till he discovered one, a mere trace made by wild animalsthrough the underwood--sufficiently practicable for him, as he couldwork his way through any tangle of thicket. Sprawling along it, andrapidly, despite all obstructions, he at length came out on the AcapulcoRoad, a wide causeway, with the moon full upon it. 

The track was easy and clear even now, too clear to satisfy him. Hewould have preferred a darker night San Augustin had to be passedthrough, and he knew that in it were both _serenos_ and _alguazils_. Besides, he had heard the _moxos_ at the monastery speak of troopsstationed there, and patrols at all hours along the roads around. Iftaken up by these he might still hope to reach his intended destination;but neither in the time he desired, nor the way he wished. He mustapproach the man with whom he meant seeking an interview, not as aprisoner but voluntarily. And he must see this man soon, to make thingseffectual, as the reward he was dreaming of sure. 

Urged by these reflections, he made no further delay; but taking to thedusty road, moved in all haste along it. In one way the moon was in hisfavour. The causeway was not straight, for it was still a deep descenttowards the valley, and carried by zig-zags; so that at each angle hewas enabled to scan the stretch ahead, and see that it was clear, beforeexposing himself upon it. Then he would advance rapidly on the nextturning-point, stop again, and reconnoitre. 

Thus alternately making traverses and pauses, he at length reached theoutskirts of the _pueblo_, unchallenged and unobserved. But the problemwas how to pass through it; all the more difficult at that early hour. He had heard the church clock tolling the hours as he came down themountain, and he knew it had not struck ten. A beautiful night, thevillagers would be all abroad; and how was he to appear in the streetwithout attracting notice--he above all men? His deformity of itselfwould betray him. An expression of blackest bitterness came over hisfeatures as he thus reflected. But it was not a time to indulge insentimentalities. San Augustin must be got through somehow, if he couldnot find a way around it. 

For this last he had been looking some time, both to the right and left. To his joy, just as he caught sight of the first houses--villaresidences they were, far straggling along the road--a lane running inbehind them seemed to promise what he was in search of. From itsdirection it should enable him to turn the village, without thenecessity of passing through the _plaza_, or at all entering upon thestreets. Without more ado he dodged into the lane. 

It proved the very sort of way he was wishing for; dark from beingovershadowed with trees. A high park-like wall extended along one sideof it, within which were the trees, their great boughs drooping downover. 

Keeping close in to the wall he glided on, and had got some distancefrom the main road, when he saw that which brought him to a suddenstop--a man approaching from the opposite direction. In the dim light, the figure was as yet barely discernible, but there was a certainsomething in its gait--the confidential swagger of the policeman--whichcaught the practised eye of Zorillo, involuntarily drawing from him themuttered speech--

"_Maltida sea_! An alguazil!"

Whether the man was this or not, he must be avoided; and, luckily forthe dwarf, the means of shunning him were at hand, easy as convenient. It was but to raise his long arms above his head, lay hold of one of theoverhanging branches, and draw himself up to the top of the wall; whichhe did upon the instant. It was a structure of _adobes_, with a copingquite a yard in width, and laid flat along this, he was altogetherinvisible to one passing below. 

The man, alguazil or not, neither saw him nor suspected his being there, but walked tranquilly on. 

When he was well beyond earshot the dwarf, deeming himself safe, wasabout to drop back into the lane, when a murmur of voices prompted himto keep his perch. They were feminine, sweet as the sound of ripplingbrooks, and gradually becoming more distinct; which told him that thosefrom whom they proceeded were approaching the spot. He had alreadyobserved that the enclosure was a grand ornamental garden with walks, fountains, and flowers; a large house on its farther side. 

Presently the speakers appeared--two young ladies sauntering side byside along one of the walks, the soft moonlight streaming down uponthem. As it fell full upon their faces, now turned toward the wall, thedwarf started at a recognition, inwardly exclaiming--

"_Santissima_! The senoritas of the carriage!"

CHAPTER FORTY NINE. 

A TALE OF STARVATION. 

It was the garden of Don Ignacio's _casa de campo_; the ladies, hisdaughter and the Condesa. The lovely night, with balm in the air and abright moon shining through the sky, had drawn them out, and theystrolled through the grounds, keeping step, as it were, to thatmatchless melody, the song of the _czenzontle_. But note of nonightingale was in their thoughts, which were engrossed by graverthemes. 

"'Tis so strange our never hearing from them, and not a word of them. What do you make of it, Ysabel? Is it a bad sign?"

The question was asked by the Dona Luisa. 

"That we haven't heard from them is--in a way, " responded the Countess. "Yet that may be explained, too. The probability is, from the roadsbeing all watched and guarded, as we know they are, they'd be cautiousabout communicating with us. If they've sent a messenger--which I hopethey haven't--he must have been intercepted and made prisoner. Andthen, the message; that might compromise us. But I know Ruperto will becareful. Not to have heard of them is all for the best--the very best. It should almost assure us that they're still free, and safe somewhere. Had they been recaptured, we'd have known before this. All Mexico wouldbe talking about it. "

"True, " assented Don Ignacio's daughter, with a feeling of relief. "They cannot have been retaken. But I wonder where they are now. "

"So I myself, Luisita. I hope, however, not at that old monastery ofwhich Ruperto gave me a description in one of his letters. It'ssomewhere up in the mountains. But with the country all around sooccupied by troops it would seem an unsafe place. I trust they've gotover the Sierra, and down to Acapulco. If they have, we needn't feel sovery anxious about them. "

"Why not, Ysabel?"

"Why not? Ah! that's a question you haven't yet come to understand. But never mind the reason now. You'll know it in good time; and whenyou do, I've no fear but you'll be satisfied; your father too. "

Don Ignacio's daughter was both puzzled and surprised at the strangewords. But she knew the Countess had strange ways; and, though a bosomfriend, was not without some secrets she kept to herself. This was oneof them, no doubt, and she forebore pressing for an explanation. 

What the Condesa hinted at was that disaffection in the south, theexpected _pronunciamento_, which, if successful, would not only deposethe Dictator, but of course also his Cabinet Ministers, her friend'sfather among them. With some knowledge of coming events, she declinedimparting this to the Dona Luisa through delicacy. Right was she, also, in her surmise as to the messenger; none had been intercepted, nonehaving been sent out, just for the reason surmised by her. 

They had made a turn or two of the grounds, thus conversing, when bothcame to a sudden stop, simultaneously uttering exclamations of alarm, "_Santissima_!" and "_Madre de Dios_!"

"What can it be?" gasped Dona Luisa. "Is it a man?"

No wonder she should so doubtingly interrogate, since her questionreferred to that strange creature on the top of the wall, seeming moreape than human being. 

That he was human, however, was to be proved by his being gifted withthe power of speech, put forth on the instant after. Before theCountess could make answer to the question (of course overheard by him), he interposed, saying--

"Pray, don't be alarmed, your ladyships, at a poor miserable creaturelike me. I know that my body is anything but shapely; but my soul--that, I trust, is different. But, Senoritas, surely you remember me?"

While speaking, he had raised himself into an upright attitude, and themoonlight falling upon him showed his shape in all its grotesqueness ofoutline. This, with his words, at once recalled their having seen himbefore. Yes; it was the _enano_, whom the big Texan had swung up to thebox of their carriage. 

Astonishment hindering reply to his interrogatory, he continued--

"Well, your ladyships, I'm sorry you don't recognise me; the more frommy being one of your best friends, or, at all events, the friend of yourfriends. "

"Of whom do you speak, sir?" asked the Countess, first to recovercomposure, the Dona Luisa echoing the interrogatory. Both were alikeanxious for the answer, better than half divining. 

"Two worthy gentlemen, who, like my poor self, had the misfortune to getshut up in the Acordada; more than that, set to work in the filthysewers. Thanks to the luck of your ladyship's carriage coming past at aconvenient time we all escaped; and so far have been successful ineluding the search that's been made for us. "

"You have succeeded--all?" both asked in a breath their eagernessthrowing aside reserve. 

"Oh yes; as I've said, so far. But it's been hard times with us in ourhiding-place; so hard, indeed, we might well have wished ourselves backin the prison. "

"How so, sir? Tell us all! You needn't fear to speak out; we'll notbetray you. "

"_Por Dios_! I'm not afraid of your ladyships doing that. Why shouldI, since I'm here on account of your own friends, and on an errand ofmercy?"

"An errand of mercy?"

"Yes. And one of necessity as well. Ah! that far more. "

"Go on, sir! Please tell us what it is!"

"Well, Senoritas, I've been deputed on a foraging expedition. For we'rein a terrible strait--all four of us. You may remember there werefour. "

"We do. But, how in a terrible strait?"

"How? Why, for want of food; starving. Up in the mountains, wherewe've been hiding for now nearly a month, all we've had to live upon waswild fruits and roots; often eating them raw, too. We daren't any of usventure down, as the roads all round have been beset by spies andsoldiers. It's only in sheer desperation I've stolen through them; theSenor Don Ruperto sending me to San Augustin in the hope I might be ableto pick up some provisions. I was just slipping the village the backway, when an alguazil coming along made it necessary for me to climb uphere and hide myself. The unlucky part of it all is, that even if I getsafe in, I haven't the wherewith to buy the eatables, and must beg them. That I fear won't be easy; people are so hard-hearted. "

For a time his surprised listeners stood silent, giving way to sadreflections. Florencio and Ruperto starving!

"May I hope, " continued the lying wretch, "your ladyships will let melook upon this accidental encounter as a God-send, and that you willgive me something to buy--"

"Oh, sir, " interrupted the Countess, "we will give you that. Luisa, have you any money in your purse? I haven't in mine--nothing tosignify. "

"Nor I either--how unfortunate! We must--"

"Never mind money, your ladyships; money's worth will do quite as well. A _reloja_, rings, anything in the way of jewellery. I chance to know aplace in the village where I can convert them into cash. "

"Here, take this!" cried the Countess, handing him her watch, the samewhich had been hypothecated to Jose, but redeemed by a money payment. 

"And this!" said the Dona Luisa, also holding out a watch, both of whichhe speedily took possession of. 

"'Tis very generous of your ladyships, " he said, stowing them away amonghis rags; "the proceeds of these ought to support us for a long time, even allowing for the reduced rate I'll have to accept from thepawnbroker. Afterwards we must do the best we can. "

As he spoke, his little sparkling eyes were avariciously bent uponcertain other objects he saw scintillating in the moonlight--bracelets, rings upon their fingers and in their ears. The hint was hardly needed. Enough for them the thought that more help might be required by thosedear to them, and at a time when they could not extend it. 

In less than five minutes after both had divested themselves of everyarticle in the way of gold or gems adorning them. They even plucked thependants from their ears, thrusting all indiscriminately into theoutstretched hands of the hunchback. 

"_Gracias!--mil gracias_!" he ejaculated, crowding everything into hispocket. "But your ladyships will scarce care to accept thanks from me. 'Twill be more to your satisfaction to know that your generosity will bethe saving of valuable lives, two of them, if I mistake not, very dearto you. Oh! won't the Senores Don Ruperto and Don Florencio bedelighted at the tale I shall take back--the Virgin seeing me safe! Notfor the provisions I may carry, but how I obtained the means ofpurchasing them. But as time's pressing, Senorita, I won't say a wordmore, only _Adios_!"

Without waiting for permission to depart, or rejoinder of any kind, heslipped down from the wall, and disappeared on its other side. 

It was an abrupt leave-taking, which alike surprised and disappointedthem. For they had many questions to ask, and intended asking him--manyanxieties they wished set at rest. 

CHAPTER FIFTY. 

AN ENCOUNTER WITH OLD ACQUAINTANCES. 

Passing out of the San Augustin towards the city, the great NationalRoad, as already said, touches upon the Pedregal, the lava rocks hereand there rising cliff-like over it. On the other side are levelmeadows stretching to the shore of the Laguna de Xochimilco; this lastovergrown with a lush aquatic vegetation called the _cinta_, at adistance appearing more pastureland than lake. Excellent pasturage isafforded on the strip between; that end of it adjacent to the _pueblo_being apportioned among several of the rich proprietors of villas, whoturn their household stock upon it, as milch kine, and horses kept forthe saddle or carriage. 

Just about the time when the hunchback was abruptly bidding "Adios" tothe ladies, a man might have been seen moving along this part of theroad at some half-mile distance from the skirts of the village, withface turned cityward. But that he had no intention of journeying so farwas evident both by his gait and the character of his dress. He wasgoing at a slow walk, now and then loitering, as if time was of littleconsequence. Moreover, he was in his shirt sleeves, and without theuniversal _serape_, which often serves for both cloak and coat. Otherwise his garb was the ordinary stable wear of a Mexican gentleman'sservant; wide velveteen trousers open along the outer seams, and fendedwith leather at breech and bottoms. "Batos" and a black glaze hatcompleted his habiliments, with a scarf of China crape, the _chammora_, around his waist. Scanning the face shadowed by the broad rim of his_sombrero_, it was seen to be that of Jose, Don Ignacio's groom; whilehis errand along that road could be guessed, by seeing what he carriedover his arm--a couple of slip halters. The horses, for whom they wereintended, were to be seen standing at a gate, a little further, havingbrowsed their fill; a pair of greys, recognisable as the famous_frisones_; all the easier now from one of them showing a split ear. They had been turned out to cool their hoofs on the soft meadow sward, and he was on his way to take them back to their stable. 

Along the other side of the road, for a stretch of some distance, extended the Pedregal, forming a low ridge with a precipitous facetowards the causeway. As the _cochero_ got up to where his pets wereexpecting him, he saw a _coyote_ standing upon the crest cliff, justopposite the horses, in an attitude and with an air as if it had beenholding conversation with them. Solely for frolic's sake, he made arush towards it, giving a swoop and swinging the halters around hishead. Of course, the affrighted animal turned tail, and retreated;instantly disappearing from his sight. The little spurt had carried himin under the shadow of the rocks; and as he faced round to recross themoonlit causeway, he saw coming along it that which, by some mysteriousinstinct, prompted him to keep his place. After all, no mystery aboutit; for in the diminutive, crab-like form seen approaching, herecognised the dwarf-hunchback who had shared the box seat with him onthat day never to be forgotten. 

Nothing had been heard of the creature since, so far as Jose knew; andtherefore it might be supposed his appearance would have been welcome, promising some news of those with whom he had been last seen. But sofar from the _cochero_ stepping out into the road to receive him, he butdrew closer to the cliff, where an embayment in black shadow promisedhim perfect concealment. 

Soon after Zorillo came shuffling along through the dust, keeping closeto the shaded side of the road. Having cleared the skirts of thevillage, however, he was less careful now. Not likely there would beany one abroad at that hour--for it had gone ten--but if so, there wasthe Pedregal alongside, to which he could retreat. Evidently he had notseen Jose as when first seen himself he was turning a corner, and theother had been for some time in shadow. 

When nearly opposite the meadow gate he also made a stop, with a start, at perceiving the two horses' heads stretched over it, one with a cleftear! His start came through recognition of them. 

"Oho!" he exclaimed, "you there, too, my noble _frisones? Caspita_!this is meeting one's old acquaintances all in a heap! It now onlyneeds to encounter _cochero_, and the party will be complete! Well, Imay live in hope to see him too, sometime; and won't there be areckoning when we're all together again?"

He was about to pass on, when a clattering of hoofs was heard behind, inthe direction of the _pueblo_, as if horsemen were issuing out of it. Shortly after, a dark clump was seen rounding the corner, and coming onalong the white ribband of road. The sabres clanking againststirrup-irons proclaimed it a cavalry troop. 

Like a tarantula retreating to its tree-cave, the dwarf darted in underthe cliff, there crouching down--so close to Jose that the latter couldhave almost touched him with the tips of his fingers. He had no desireto do so, no thought of it; but the very opposite. His wish was toavoid an encounter; and good reason for it, as he was soon after madeaware. Fortunately for him, the hunchback neither saw nor had asuspicion of his proximity. With face turned to the road, he wasaltogether occupied with the party approaching. 

The Hussars turned out--an escort of some eight or ten files, with twoofficers at its head; these riding side by side, and a little inadvance. They were chatting gaily and rather vociferously; the voice ofhim who spoke loudest being well-known to Jose. For Colonel Santander, whether welcome or not, was a frequent visitor at the _casa de campo_ ofDon Ignacio Valverde. And the dwarf now remembered it too, as he did soabandoning all attempt at concealment, and gliding out into the middleof the road. 

"_Carajo_!" simultaneously shouted the two officers, as their horsesreared up, snorting at the strange shape so suddenly presented beforethem. "What the _Demonio_ is it, if not Satan himself?" addedSantander. 

"No, _Senor Coronet_, " returned Zorillo. "Not the devil; only a poorcreature whom God has cursed by making him in a shape that isn'taltogether fashionable. But just for that reason I trust being recalledto your Excellency's remembrance--am I not?"

"Ah! You were in the Acordada?"

"_Si, Senor Coronet_. "

"And 'twas you I saw coupled to the Tejano?"

"The same, Senor. In that prosecuted by a like ill, no doubt, the devilall the time directing it. "

"But where have you been since, sirrah?"

"Ah! _Excellenza_! that's just it; the very thing I want to tell you. I was on my way to the city in hopes of obtaining an interview with you. What a bit of fortune you passing here: 'twill save me a journey I wasill able to make; for I'm quite worn out, and weak, from being starvedup there in the mountains. "

"Oh! you've been up there?"

"Yes, Senor Coronel, in hiding with the others. But not like themvoluntarily. They took me along with them, whether I would or no, andhave kept me ever since--till this night, when an opportunity offeredfor giving them the slip. It isn't all of four hours since I partedcompany with them. But if your Excellency wishes to hear the wholestory, perhaps you'd like it better in private. If I mistake not, someof it should only reach your own ears. "

Santander had been already thinking of this, and turning to the officerby his side, he said--

"Take the men on, Ramirez. Halt at a hundred yards or so, and wait forme. "

In obedience to the order the escort moved on, stopping as directed, thedialogue between Santander and the dwarf meanwhile continuing. It wasmore of a monologue, the latter giving a detailed relation of all thathad occurred to him since the time of their escape from the chain-gang, with comments and suggestions added. 

After hearing all, Santander rose in his stirrups, his features showingtriumph, such as Satan might feel at a world of souls just delivered tohim. 

"The game is mine at last!" he muttered to himself, "every trick of it. They're in a trap now; and when they go out of it, 'twill be to the_garrota_. "

For a moment he sat silent, apparently considering what was his bestcourse to pursue. Then, seemingly having decided, he called out--

"Ramirez! Send a couple of men to me--the corporal and another. "

These, detached from the escort, came trotting back along the road. 

"Here, _cabo_! Take charge of this curious specimen. Keep him here, and see that you hold him safe till you have my orders for releasinghim. Don't stray from this spot as you value your own neck--not aninch. "

Saying which he put spurs to his horse, and rejoined his escort. Thencommanding, "Forward! at the double quick!" they started off at fullgallop towards the city. 

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. 

A GRUMBLING GUARD. 

Part of the dialogue between Santander and the hunchback was overheardby Jose--enough of it to give him the trembles. Among its revelationswas nought relating to himself, or his connivance at the escape of theprisoners. For all, he could see that he was now in as much danger asthey who were in hiding. The Colonel of Hussars had gone on to thecity, perhaps to complete some duty already engaging him, but as likelyto obtain a stronger force. And as his words told, he would returnagain; and no doubt make direct for the old monastery, the dwarf guidinghim. 

The first thought of the faithful _cochero_ was not about himself, norhis horses. These might stay in the meadow all night, as they were nowlikely to do. The lives of men were at stake--his own among thenumber--and his sole purpose now was to get home, report what he hadheard to his young mistress and the Condesa; then hasten up the mountainto warn the imperilled ones. As good luck would have it, he knew theplace they were in. Son of a _carbonero_, when a boy he had helped hisfather in the charcoal-burning business; was familiar with the mountainforests, and their paths, and had more than once been at the abandonedmonastery. He could easily find the way to it. But the difficulty wasto get back to his master's house--even stir from the spot on which hestood. Soon as receiving their orders the two Hussars had dismounted, and tied up their horses, one on each side of the rocky embayment; theythemselves, with their curious charge, occupying the space between. Itwas not possible to pass without being seen by them, and as surelyseized. 

So long as he kept his place he might feel comparatively safe. The covewas of a three-cornered shape, with luckily a deep dark cleft at itsinner angle, into which he had already squeezed himself. While the moonremained low, and the cliff made shadow, there was little likelihood oftheir seeing him, unless they came close up. Still, the situation wasaught but pleasant, and ere long became irksome in the extreme; theconversation to which he was compelled to listen making it so. 

The two _Husares_ did not seem, to be in the best of temper; thecorporal more especially showing signs of dissatisfaction. Gropingabout for a stone to seat himself on, he grumbled out--

"_Maddita_! What a bore, having to stay here till they get back. Heaven knows when that will be. Like enough not before morning. Ithought we were going to pass the night in San Augustin, and had hopesof a chat with that _muchachita_ at the house where the colonel visits. "

"Pepita, you mean--lady's maid to the Dona Luisa Valverde?"

"Of course I mean her, the pretty dear; and have reason to think she isa bit sweet upon me. "

Josh's heart was on fire--his blood boiling. It was with difficulty herestrained himself from springing out upon the soldier and clutching himby the throat. He succeeded, however, in keeping his place, if not histemper; for it would have been sheer madness to show himself there andthen. What came after quite tranquillised him. 

"Well, _cabo_" returned he of the rank and file, seemingly without fearof speaking plain to the non-commissioned officer, "I should be sorry todash your hopes; but as a friend I can't help saying I don't think youhave much chance in that quarter. She's a step higher, that samePepita; holds her head far above any of us common soldiers--"

"Common soldiers! I'm a corporal; you forget that, _hombre_. But whydo you think my chances are so poor?"

"Because I've heard say there's a man about the establishment to whomshe's already given what heart she may have had to give--that they'reengaged. The fellow's groom or _cochero_, or something of the sort. "

Jose breathed easier now, noways provoked at having been spoken of as a"fellow. "

"Bah!" contemptuously exclaimed the corporal. "What care I for thathorse-cleaner and carriage-washer for a rival! I've cut out scores ofsuch before now, and will do the same with him. Lie down there, youdevil's imp!" he added, turning savagely upon the dwarf, and venting hisspleen by giving the creature a kick. "Down, or I'll break every bonein your body. "

"Mercy, master!" expostulated the hunchback. "Don't be so cruel to afellow-creature. "

"Fellow-creature! That's good, ha, ha, ha!" And the brute broke outinto a hoarse laugh, till the rocks echoed his fiendish cachinnation. 

"Well, your worship, " rejoined he thus inhumanly mocked, with an air ofassumed meekness; "whatever I am, it pains me to think I should be thecause of keeping you here. But why should you stay, may I ask? Youdon't suppose I'm going to run away? If I were with you as a prisoner--but I am not. I sought an interview with your Colonel of my own freewill. Surely you saw that!"

"True enough, he did, " interposed the soldier. 

"And what if he did?" growled the corporal. 

"Only, Senor, to show that I have no intention to part company with you, nor wish neither. _Por Dios_! don't let me hinder you from having thatchat with the _muchachita_. It's but a step back to the _pueblo_, andlike as not she'll be on the lookout for you, spite of what your comradesays. Maybe he has an eye to the pretty dear himself, and that's why hewishes to discourage you. "

As this rigmarole was delivered in the most comical manner, it put thesoldiers in a better humour, both breaking out into laughter. 

Of course the corporal had no thought of availing himself of thepermission so accorded. Their orders were strict to stay in that spot, and stay they must. The question was, how were they to spend the time. A smoke to begin with; and they drew out their cigarritos, with flint, steel, and tinder. 

Soon as the red coal appeared beneath their noses, said the _cabo_ tohis comrade--

"By the way, Perico, have you your cards with you?"

"Did you ever know me to be without them?"

"How lucky! I quite forgot mine. "

"That's because your mind was bent upon Pepita. I saw you giving yourmoustache an extra twist this evening. "

"Oh! bother Pepita. Let's have an _albur_ of monte. "

"How about light?"

"The moon's clear enough, if it wasn't we could manage with our cigars. Many's the game I've played that way. "

"All right! But the stakes? I haven't a _cuartilla_--nay, not so muchas a _claco_. "

"_Carramba_! Nor I either. I spent the last on a drink just before wegot into the saddle. It's bad; but we can bet upon the credit system, and use cartridges for counters. "

"Ah, stay!"

At which he turned his eyes upon the dwarf with a look of peculiarsignificance, cupidity the prevailing expression. 

The latter saw it with a heaviness of heart, and a shuddering throughouthis frame. All the time apprehensive about the plunder with which hispockets were crammed, he instinctively anticipated what was coming. 

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO. 

A DANAE'S SHOWER. 

"Now, I shouldn't wonder, " continued the corporal, shifting upon hisseat, and facing fully round to the dwarf. "I shouldn't at all wonderbut that this diminutive gentleman has some spare cash upon him; andmaybe he'll oblige us by a little loan, considering the occasion. Whatsay you, _Senor Enano_?"

"I haven't any, " was the ready answer. "And sorry to say it too--that Iam. "

"It don't look much like he has, " observed Perico, with a glance at thehunchback's tattered habiliments. 

"Looks are not always to be relied on, " persisted the corporal. "Who'dever suspect a pearl inside an ugly oyster-shell?"

"I haven't, indeed, _Senor Cabo_, " once more protested the dwarf withearnest emphasis. "If I had, you'd be welcome to the loan you speak of. No man likes a game of _monte_ better than myself. Alas! so far frombeing in funds, I'm too like your worships--without a _claco_. I'vebeen stripped of everything; and, if you knew my story, you'd pity me, I'm sure. "

"What story?" demanded the _cabo_, becoming curious. 

"Why, that I've been robbed of all the money I had. It wasn't much, tobe sure, only two _pesetas_ and a _real_, but still that was better thanempty pockets. It happened about half an hour ago. I was on my way toSan Augustin, thinking I'd there get some supper, with a night'slodging; when not far from this, two men--footpads I suppose they were--rushed out from the roadside, and made straight at me. One took theright, the other left. But I've good long arms, as you see, prettystrong too; and so I was able to keep them off for a while. Severaltimes they caught hold of my wrists; but I succeeded in jerking themfree again. I believe I could have wrestled them both, but that onegetting angry, pulled out a long-bladed knife, and threatened to cut mythroat with it. _Por dios_! I had to surrender then, seeing he was inearnest. "

While giving this somewhat prolix account of an altogether imaginaryadventure, he had started to his feet, and accompanied his speech with aseries of pantomimic gestures; dancing and flinging his arms about, ashe professed to have done while defending himself against the footpads. The grotesqueness of the performance, though seen only in the dimlight--for he kept under the shadow--set his listeners to laughing. Little dreamt they why he was treating them to the spectacle, or howcleverly he was outwitting them. 

But there was a third spectator of the scene, unknown to all of them, who was aware of it. The _cochero_ could not at first tell what werethe things striking him in the pit of the stomach, as if he was beingpelted with pebbles! But he could see they came from the hands of thehunchback, flung behind in his repeated contortions and gesticulations. 

Moreover, that they glistened while passing through the air, and lookedwhitish where they lay, after falling at his own feet. 

"Well; what did they do to you then?" asked the corporal, when he andhis comrade had finished their guffaw. "Stripped you clean, as you'vesaid?"

"_Ay, Dios_! Just that, Senor. Took everything I had, except the ragsI wear; and to them I might well have made them welcome. "

"Now, are you sure they took everything?" questioned the other, stillsuspicious. The earnestness of the dwarfs affirmation made him so. 

"Of course, Senor. Quite sure. I'll swear to it, if you like. "

"Oh, there's no need for the formality of an oath. Simpler to searchyou! and more satisfactory. Draw up here in front of me!"

The hunchback obeyed with an air of confident alacrity. He had noreluctance to being searched now, knowing his pockets were empty. Ofwhich the searcher satisfied himself by groping about among the rags, and sounding every receptacle where coin might be kept. 

But if he found no money, an article turned up, which no littlesurprised himself and his comrade--a stiletto!

"_Caspita_!" he exclaimed, as his hand touched something hard in thewaistband of the dwarfs breeches, stuck behind his back. "What have wehere? As I live, a dagger!" drawing it out and holding it to the light. "Silver-hilted, too! Yes; it's silver, sure; and blade beautifullychased--worth a _doblone_, at the very least!"

"Half mine, " interrupted Perico, putting in his claim. 

"All right, _camardo_. We'll settle that by-and-by. Now, you limb ofSatan!" he continued to the hunchback, "you told us the footpads hadstripped you clean. How do you explain this?"

"Easily enough, your worship. They only thought of trying in mypockets, and the stiletto being there behind where you've found it, luckily they overlooked it. "

"Oh, indeed!" doubtingly rejoined the corporal; "and pray how did youbecome possessed of it, _Senor Enano_? A dagger worth a _doblone_ isn'ta likely thing for such as you to be owner of--that is, in an honestway. "

"I admit, your worship, it isn't likely. For all, I came honestly bythe article. It's an heirloom in our family; belonged to mygreat-great-grandfather, and's descended through several generations. For know, Senor, my ancestors were not deformed like poor me. Some ofthem were gallant soldiers, as yourself. Indeed, one of them rose tothe rank of sergeant--that was my mother's grandfather; but this daggerdidn't come down from him, being left in the main line. "

"Well, " laughingly returned the corporal, after listening to the quaintchapter of explanations, "the future herald of our family won't have totrace it beyond yourself. You're now under our protection, and have noneed to warlike weapons. So we, your protectors, will take the libertyof appropriating the historical toy. Get out the cards, Perico! Let ussee whether it is to be yours or mine. "

"_May bueno_!" responded Perico. "How will you have the game? A single_albur_, or two out of three?"

"Well, as we've only the one stake, and no end of time for winning andlosing it, we'd better make it the long game. "

"All right--come on! I have the cards spread--_sota y caballo_. Howsweet the Queen's face looks in the moonlight! Ah! she's smiling at me, I know, as good as to say--`Worthy Perico, that silver-handled weapon, your corporal tells you is worth all of an _onza_, will ere long bethine. '"

"Well, lay on the Queen if you like. I'll go the Jack, with all hisgrinning. Now shuffle, and deal off. "

By this the two had seated themselves, _vis-a-vis_, just outside theverge where met moonlight and shadow, a suite of cards turned face upbetween them, the dealing pack in the hands of Perico. The hunchback, on his knees, with neck craned out, was a spectator; but one whosethoughts were not with his eyes. Instead, dwelling upon the valuableshe had so cunningly chucked back, making the mental calculation as tohow much they might be damaged by breakage, but caring less for thatthan the danger of their also becoming stakes in that game of _monte_. Could he have known what was going on behind, he would possibly havepreferred it so. 

The unseen spectator, though silent, was not inactive, but the reverse. From the moment of seeing himself shut up--as it were, in a pen--he hadgiven all his thoughts to how he might escape out of it. It needed noneto tell him there was no chance front-wards by the road. A rush hemight make past the two soldiers, risking seizure, and surely having thebullets of their carbines sent after him. But even though he got off inthat way, what would be the upshot? The hunchback would be certain torecognise him, remembering all. Knowing, too, that his dialogue withthe Hussar colonel must have been overheard, he would hasten the veryevent which he, Jose, was now all anxious to provide against. The wordof warning meant for those now so much needing it might reach them toolate. 

All these thoughts had passed through the _cochero's_ mind before thecard-playing commenced. More, too, for he had carefully inspected thecliff overhead, so far as the light would allow, aided by groping. Tohis joy, he had discovered that there was a possibility of scaling it. A sharp pinnacle of rock was within reach of the swing of his halters;and skilled in the use of the _laso_, over this he had succeeded inflinging the head-stall of one, hooking it fast. It but remained toswarm up the rope, and he was watching for an opportunity, whenglittering golden things, like a Danae's shower, came raining againsthis ribs, to fall at his feet. 

He saw no reason for these being left to lie there, but a good oneagainst it; so, stooping cautiously forward, he gathered up all, stowingthem away in his pockets. Then turning and taking hold of the halter, with as little noise as possible, he hoisted himself up to the crest ofthe cliff. 

The soldiers engrossed with their game, and the dwarf, though but aspectator, having also become interested in it--none of the three eithersaw or heard him. And the last he heard of them as he stole silentlyaway was the corporal delightedly calling out--

"_Sota en la puerta, mozo_! The dagger's mine, darling Perico!"

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE. 

A SERIES OF SURPRISES. 

The _cochero_ had but a confused idea of what he was carrying away withhim. By the feel, watches, with chains and bracelets; besides somesmaller articles wrapped in bits of paper. The uncertainty of hisgetting safe up the cliff hindered him from giving them even the mostcursory examination, nor did he think of doing this till at sufficientdistance from the card-playing party to feel sure he was beyond dangerof pursuit. Then the temptation to have a look at the things, which hadso strangely and unexpectedly come into his possession, becameirresistible; and sitting down upon a ledge of rock, he drew them outinto the light of the moon. Two watches were there, both gold, and onewith a jewelled case. 

"_Carrai_!" he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the latter, and becamefixed in a stare of blank amazement, "can it be! It is--the Condesa'swatch--the very one she would have given me! But how came the hunchbackto have it? Surely he must have stolen it. The other, too, with allthese things!"

He looked at the second watch, but as it had never been in his handsbefore, he was unable to identify it. Still, it resembled one he hadseen his mistress wearing, and most likely was the same. 

The bracelets, chains, necklets, and brooches would be theirs, too; asalso the rings and other bijouterie, which the dwarf had found time todo up in paper. 

"Stolen them?" continued the _cochero_ interrogatively, as he ran hiseyes over the varied assortment. 

"How could he? The watches he might, but the other things? Why blessme, here are two pairs of ear-rings--and these grand pendants--I'm sureI saw them in the ears of the Condesa this very day. He couldn't havetaken them without her knowing it. _Santo Dios_! How ever has he comeby them?"

As he thus questioned and reflected, a feeling of apprehension began tocreep over him. A little before leaving the house to go after hishorses he had observed his young mistress and the Condesa going into theornamental grounds. And they went alone; Don Ignacio having repaired toa private apartment, where he was accustomed to shut himself up for theexamination of State papers, what if the ladies _were_ still in thegrounds, in some secluded spot, lying dead, where all these adornmentshad been stripped from their persons!

This horrible tableau did the faithful servant in imagination conjureup. He could not help it. Nor was the thing so very improbable. Hehad some earlier acquaintance with the desperate character of the dwarf, which later experience confirmed. Besides, there was the state of thecountry--thieves and robbers all round--men who made light of murder!

With a heaviness of heart--a painful fear that there had been murder--hestayed not to further examine the trinkets; but gathering all up again, and thrusting them back into his pocket, hurried on home. 

And when home he went not to his own quarters in the coachyard, butstraight into the _patio_--the private court of the house. There heencountered Pepita; soon as he set eyes on her, asking--

"Where are the _Senoritas_?"

"What's that to you?" saucily retorted the maid. 

"Nothing, if I only knew they were safe. "

"Safe! Why what's the man thinking--talking about? Have you lost yoursenses, _hombre_?"

"No, Pepita. But the ladies have lost something. Look here!"

He had plunged both his hands into his pockets, and drawn them out againfull of things that scintillated in the moonlight--watches and jewelleryof different kinds, as she saw. With a woman's curiosity, glidingswiftly forward to examine them, she recognised every article at aglance, amazement overspreading her countenance, as it lately had his. 

"_Ay de mi_!" she exclaimed, no longer in jesting tone. "What does itall mean, Jose?"

"Just what I want to know myself, and why I am asking after theSenoritas. But where are they?"

"In the garden, or the grounds somewhere. They strolled out about anhour ago, and haven't been in since. "

"Pray God, they're still alive! Come with me, Pepita. Let us look forthem. I have terrible fears. "

So appealed to, the girl gave ready assent; and side by side theyhastened towards the rear of the house, behind which were the ornamentalgrounds extending backwards. But they had not far to go before hearingsounds that set their minds at rest, removing all anxiety--the voices ofthe ladies themselves. They were not only alive, but laughing!

To Jose and Pepita this seemed strange as anything else--a perfectmystery. Merry after parting with all those pretty things; costly, too--worth hundreds of _doblones_! Withal, they were so; theirlightness of heart due to the knowledge thus gained, that their ownlovers were still living and safe; and something of merriment, added bythat odd encounter with the _enano_, of which they were yet conversing. 

If their behaviour mystified their servants, not less were theythemselves puzzled when Jose presented himself before them with handsheld out, saying:

"I ask your pardon for intruding, but don't these belong to yourladyships?"

They saw their watches and other effects obtained from them by "falsepretences, " as they were now to learn. 

The revelation that succeeded put an end to their joyous humour; theirhearts that had been light for a moment were now becoming heavier thanever. The treachery of the hunchback and his intentions were manifest. He meant to guide Santander and his soldiers to the old monastery, wherethey would take the _patriotas_ by surprise. 

"What is to be done, Ysabel?" despairingly asked the Donna Luisa. "Howcan we give them warning?"

To which the _cochero_, not the Countess, made answer, saying:

"I can do that, _Senorita_. "

His confident tone reassured them; more still his making known thedesign he had already conceived, and his ability to execute it. He wasacquainted with the old convent and the paths leading to it--every inchof them. 

It needed not their united appeal to urge him to immediate departure. He was off the instant after, and long before the clock of Talpam hadstruck the midnight hour, well up the mountain road, with eyes lookingto the right, in the direction of the Cerro Ajusco. 

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR. 

MONKS NO MORE. 

The surmise which had influenced Zorillo to leaving the convent cellearlier than he intended was a correct one. The goings on in theRefectory were, at the time, of an unusual kind--a grand occasion, as hehad worded it. There were some fifty men in it; but not one of them noweffecting either the garb or the behaviour of the monk. Soldiers all;or at least in warlike guise; a few wearing regular though undressuniforms, but the majority habited as "guerilleros, " in the picturesquecostumes of their country. They were booted, and belted, swords bytheir sides, with pistols in holsters hanging against the walls, andspurs ready for buckling on. Standing in corners were stacks ofcarbines, and lances freshly pennoned, with their blades bright frombeing recently sharpened--a panoply which spoke of fighting ere longexpected to take place. 

It may be asked where were their horses, since all the arms andaccoutrements seen around were those of cavalry? But horses they had, though not there. Each knew where to lay hands on his own, far or near, stalled in the stable of some sequestered _rancho_, or, it might be, mountain cavern. They were not yet assembled to hearken to the call of"Boot and Saddle. " That they would hear at a later hour, and in adifferent place. 

The occasion of their being in such guise and together was because itwas to be the last night of their sojourn in the monastery. And theywere making it a merry one; the Refectory table was being loaded withthe best that was left to them in meals and drinks. Upon it were whatbottles remained of those famous wines from the bins of the rich_haciendado_--his forced contribution--and they were fast gettingemptied. From the way the _convives_ were quaffing, it was not likelythat any of the Burgundy, Madeira, or Pedro Ximenes would be leftbehind--not even a "heel-tap. "

It had got to be midnight, and they were still in the midst of therevelry, when Rivas, who headed the table, rose to his feet, in thatformal manner which tells of speech to be made or toast proclaimed. 

"_Camaradas_!" he said, as soon as the buzz of conversation had ended, "as you're aware, we part from this place to-night; and some of you knowwhither we are going and for what purpose. But not all; therefore Ideem it my duty to tell you. You saw a courier who came up early thismorning--bringing good news, I'm glad to say. This despatch I hold inmy hand is from an old friend, General Alvarez, who, though he may notboast _sangre-azul_ in his veins, is as brave a soldier and pure apatriot as any in the land. You know that. He tells me his _Pintos_are ready for a rising, and only wait for us--the `Free Lances'--withsome others he has summoned to join him in giving the _grito_. By hismessenger I have sent answer that we, too, are ready, and will respondto his summons. You all approve of that, I take it?"

"All!" was the exclaim in chorus, without a dissenting voice. 

"Moreover, " proceeded the speaker, "I've told the General we'll be onthe march to-morrow morning, and can meet him at a place he hasmentioned the day after. His plan is to attack the town of Oaxaca; and, if we succeed in taking it, then we move direct on the capital. Now_camarados_, I've nothing more to say; only that you're to scatter afteryour horses, and lose no time in mustering again--the old rendezvous, this side La Guarda. "

So ended the speech of the Free Lances' leader; but despite thesuggestions of immediate departure, the circle around the table did notinstantly break up. 

The bottles were not all empty as yet, nor the revellers satisfied toleave them till they should be so. Besides, there was no particularneed of haste for another hour or two. So they stuck to the table, smoking, drinking, and toasting many things, as persons, among thelatter their lately joined allies--the _Irlandes_ and _Tejano_, aboutwhose proved valour on other fields, of which they had heard, the FreeLances were enthusiastically eloquent. 

Kearney, speaking in their own tongue, made appropriate response; whileRock, when told he had been toasted, delivered himself in characteristicstrain, saying:--

"Feller-citizens, --For since I tuk up yur cause, I reck'n you'll gi'e meleave to call ye so--it air a glad thing to this chile to think he'llsoon hev a bit o' fightin'. An' 'specially as it's to be agin oleSanty, the durned skunk. By the jumpin' Geehosofat! if Cris Rock ivergits longside him agin, as he war on't San Jacinty, there wan't be nomore meercy for the cussed tyrant, same as, like a set of fools, weTexans showed him thar an' then. Tell them what I sayed, Cap. "

With which abrupt wind-up he dropped back upon his seat, gulping down atumblerful of best Madeira, as though it were table-beer. 

Kearney did tell them, translating his comrade's speech faithfully asthe _patois_ would permit; which heightened their enthusiasm, many ofthem starting to their feet, rushing round the table, and, Mexicanfashion, enfolding the _Tejano_ in friendly embrace. 

The hugging at an end, there was yet another toast to follow, the samewhich always wound up the festivals of the "Free Lances, " whatever theoccasion. Their leader, as often before, now again pronounced it--

"_Patria y Libertad_". 

And never before did it have more enthusiastic reception, the cheer thatrang through the old convent, louder than any laughter of monks who mayhave ever made it their home. 

Ere it had ceased reverberating, the door of the Refectory was suddenlypushed open, and a man rushed into the room, as he entered, crying out--

"_Traicion_!"

"Treason!" echoed fifty voices as one, all again starting to their feet, and turning faces towards the alarmist. The major-domo it was, who, asthe other _mozos_, was half equipped for a journey. 

"What mean you, Gregorio?" demanded his master. 

"There's one can tell you better than I, Don Ruperto. "

"Who? Where is he?"

"Outside, Senor. A messenger who has just come up--he's from SanAugustin. "

"But how has he passed our sentry. "

"Ah! _capitano_; I'd rather he told you himself. "

Mysterious speech on the part of the major-domo, which heightened theapprehension of those hearing it. "Call him hither!" commanded Rivas. 

No calling was needed; the person spoken of being in the environ closeby; and Gregorio, again opening the door, drew him inside. 

"The _cochero_!" mentally exclaimed Rivas, Kearney, and the Texan, soonas setting eyes on him. 

The _cochero_ it was, Jose, though they knew not his name, nor anythingmore of him than what they had learned in that note of the Condesa's, saying that he could be trusted, and their brief association with himafterwards--which gave them proof that he could. 

As he presented himself inside the room he seemed panting for breath, and really was. He had only just arrived up the steep climb, andexchanged hardly half a dozen words with the major-domo, who had met himat the outside entrance. 

Announced as a messenger, neither the Captain of the Free Lances norFlorence Kearney needed telling who sent him. A sweet intuition toldthem that. Rivas but asked--

"How have you found the way up here?"

"_Por Dios_! Senor, I've been here before--many's the time. I was bornamong these mountains--am well acquainted with all the paths everywherearound. "

"But the sentry below. How did you get past him? You haven't thecountersign!"

"He wouldn't have heard it if I had, Senor. _Pobre_! he'll never hearcountersign again--nor anything else. "

"Why? Explain yourself!"

"_Esta muerto_! He lies at the bottom of the cliff, his body crushed--"

"Who has done it? Who's betrayed us?" interrupted a volley of voices. 

"The hunchback, Zorillo, " answered Jose, to the astonishment of all. For in the dialogue between the dwarf and Santander, he had heard enoughto anticipate the ghastly spectacle awaiting him on his way up themountain. 

Cries of anger and vengeance were simultaneously sent up; all showingeager to rush from the room. They but waited for a word more. 

Rivas, however, suspecting that the messenger meant that word forhimself, claimed their indulgence, and led him outside, inviting Kearneyto accompany them. 

Though covering much ground, and relating to many incidents, the_cochero's_ story was quickly told. Not in the exact order ofoccurrence, but as questioned by his impatient listeners. He ranrapidly over all that happened since their parting at the corner of theCoyoacan road, the latter events most interesting them. Surprised werethey to hear that Don Ignacio and his daughter for some time had beenstaying at San Augustin--the Condesa with them. Had they but known thatbefore, in all probability things would not have been as now. Possiblythey might have been worse; though, even as they stood, there was enoughdanger impending over all. As for themselves, both Mexican andIrishman, less recked of it, as they thought of how they were beingwarned, and by whom. That of itself was recompense for all theirperils. 

Meanwhile those left inside the room were chafing to learn theparticulars of the treason, though they were not all there now. Somehad sallied out, and gone down the cliff to bring up the body of theirmurdered comrade; others, the major-domo conducting, back to the placewhere the hunchback should be, but was not. There to find confirmationof what had been said. The cell untenanted; the window bar filedthrough and broken; the file lying by it, and the chain hanging downoutside. 

Intelligible to them now was the tale of treason, without their hearingit told. 

When once more they assembled in the Refectory, it was with chastened, saddened hearts. For they had come from digging a grave, and loweringinto it a corpse. Again gathered around the table, _they_ drank thestirrup-cup, as was their wont, but never so joylessly, or with suchstint. 

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE. 

"ONLY EMPTY BOTTLES. "

About the time the Free Lances were burying their comrade in thecemetery of the convent the gate of San Antonio de Abad was opened topermit the passage of a squadron of Hussars going outward from the city. There were nigh 200 of them, in formation "by fours"--the wide causewayallowing ample room for even ten abreast. 

At their head rode Colonel Santander, with Major Ramirez by his side, other officers in their places distributed along the line. 

Soon as they had cleared the _garita_, a word to the bugler, with a noteor two from his trumpet quick succeeding, set them into a gallop; thewhite dusty road and clear moonlight making the fastest pace easilyattainable. And he who commanded was in haste, his destination beingthat old monastery, of which he had only lately heard, but enough tomake him most eager to reach it before morning. His hopes were high; atlast he was likely to make a _coup_--that capture so much desired, solong delayed!

For nearly an hour bridles were let loose, and spurs repeatedly plied. On along the _calzada_ swept the squadron, over the bridge Churubusco, and past the _hacienda_ of San Antonio de Abad, which gives its name tothe city gate on that side. Thenceforward the Pedregal impinges on theroad, and the Hussars still going at a gallop along its edge, anotherbugle-call brought them to a halt. 

That, however, had naught to do with their halting, which came fromtheir commander having reached the spot where he had left the hunchbackin charge of the two soldiers. 

He need not hail them to assure himself they were still there. Thetrampling of horses on the hard causeway, heard afar off, had long agoforewarned the corporal of what was coming; and he was out on the roadto receive them, standing in an attitude of attention. 

The parley was brief, and quick the action which accompanied it. 

"Into your saddle, _cabo_!" commanded the colonel. "Take that curiosityup behind you, and bring it along. "

In an instant the corporal was mounted, the "curiosity" hoisted up tohis croup by Perico, who then sprang to the back of his own horse. Oncemore the bugle gave tongue, and away they went again. 

The cavalcade made no stop in San Augustin. There was no object forhalting it there, and delay was the thing its commander most desired toavoid. As they went clattering through the _pueblo_, its people werea-bed, seemingly asleep. But not all. Two at least were awake, andheard that unusual noise--listened to it with a trembling in theirframes and fear in their hearts. Two ladies they were, inside a housebeyond the village, on the road running south. Too well they knew whatit meant, and whither the galloping cohort was bound. And themselvesunseen, they saw who was at the head; though they needed not seeing himto know. But peering through the _jalousies_, the moonlight revealed tothem the face of Don Carlos Santander, in the glimpse they got of it, showing spitefully triumphant. 

He could not see them, though his eyes interrogated the windows while hewas riding past. They had taken care to extinguish the light in theirroom. 

"_Virgin Santissima_! Mother of God!" exclaimed one of the ladies, Luisa Valverde, as she dropped on her knees in prayer, "Send thatthey've got safe off ere this!"

"Make your mind easy, _amiga_!" counselled the Condesa Almonte in lessprecatory tone. "I'm good as sure they have. Jose cannot fail to havereached and given them warning. That will be enough. "

A mile or so beyond San Augustin the southern road becomes too steep forhorses to go at a gallop, without risk of breaking their wind. So therethe Hussars had to change to a slower pace--a walk in fact. There wereother reasons for coming to this. The sound of their hoof-strokesascending would be heard far up the mountain, might reach the ears ofthose in the monastery, and so thwart the surprise intended for them. 

While toiling more leisurely up the steep, any one chancing to look inthe hunchback's face would there have observed an expressionindescribable. Sadness pervaded it, with an air of perplexity, asthough he had met with some misfortune he could not quite comprehend. 

And so had he. Before leaving the spot where the stiletto was takenfrom him, he had sought an opportunity to step back into that shadyniche in the cliff where he had lost his treasures. The _monte_players, unsuspicious of his object, made no objection. But instead ofthere finding what he had expected, he saw only a pair of horse-halters:one lying coiled upon the ground, the head-stall of the other caughtover the rock above, the rope end dangling down!

An inexplicable phenomenon, which, however, he had kept to himself, andever since been cudgelling his brains to account for. 

But soon after he had something else to think of: the time havingarrived when he was called upon to give proof of his capability as aguide. Heretofore it had been all plain road riding; but now they hadreached a point spoken of by himself where the _calzada_ must beforsaken. The horses, too, left behind; everything but their weapons;the path beyond being barely practicable for men afoot. 

Dismounting all, at a command--this time not given by the bugle--andleaving a sufficient detail to look after the animals, they commencedthe ascent, their guide, seemingly more quadruped than biped, in thelead. Strung out in single file--no other formation being possible--asthey wound their way up the zig-zag with the moonlight here and there, giving back the glint of their armour, it was as some great serpent--amonster of the antediluvian ages--crawling towards its prey. Silentlyas serpent too; not a word spoken, nor exclamation uttered along theirline. For, although it might be another hour before they could reachtheir destination, less than a second would suffice for their voices toget there, even though but muttered. 

One spot their guide passed with something like a shudder. It was wherehe had appropriated the dagger taken from a dead body. His shudderingwas not due to that, but to fear from a far different cause. The bodywas no longer there. Those who dwelt above must have been down andborne it away. They would now be on the alert, and at any moment hemight hear the cracking of carbines--a volley; perhaps feel the avengingbullet. What if they should roll rocks down and crush him and the partybehind? In any case there could be no surprisal now; and he wouldgladly have seen those he was guiding give up the thought of it and turnback. Santander was himself irresolute, and would willingly have doneso. But Ramirez, a man of more mettle, at the point of his swordcommanded the hunchback to keep on, and the cowardly colonel dare notrevoke the order without eternally disgracing himself. 

They had no danger to encounter, though they knew not that. Neithervidette nor sentinel was stationed there now; and, without challenge orobstruction, they reached the platform on which the building stood, thesoldiers taking to right and left till they swarmed around it as bees. But they found no honey inside their hive. 

There was a summons to surrender, which received no response. Repeatedlouder, and a carbine fired, the result was the same. Silence inside, there could be no one within. 

Nor was there. When the Hussar colonel, with a dozen of his men, atlength screwed up courage to make a burst into the doorway, and on tothe Refectory, they saw but the evidence of late occupancy in thefragments of a supper, with some dozens of wine bottles "down among thedead men, " empty as the building itself. 

Disappointed as were the soldiers at finding them so, but still moretheir commanding officer at his hated enemies having again got away fromhim. His soul was brimful of chagrin, nor did it allay the feeling tolearn how, when a path was pointed out to him leading down the otherside, they must have made off. And along such a path pursuit was idle. No one could say where it led--like enough to a trap. 

He was not the only one of the party who felt disappointed at thefailure of the expedition. Its guide had reason to be chagrined, too, in his own way of thinking, much more than the leader himself. For notonly had he lost the goods obtained under false pretences, but the hopeof reward for his volunteered services. 

Still the dwarf was not so down in the mouth. He had another arrow inhis quiver--kept in reserve for reasons of his own--a shaft from whichhe expected more profit than all yet spent. And as the Hussar colonelwas swearing and raging around, he saw his opportunity to discharge it. 

With half a dozen whispered words he tranquillised the latter; afterwhich there was a brief conference between the two, its effect uponSantander showing itself in his countenance, that became all agleam, litup with a satisfied but malignant joy. 

When, in an hour after, they were again in their saddles riding inreturn for the city, a snatch of dialogue between Santander and Ramirezgave indication of what so gratified the colonel of the Hussars. 

"Well, Major, " he said, "we've done road enough for this day. You'll bewanting rest by the time you get to quarters. "

"That's true enough, Colonel. Twice to San Augustin and back, with theadditional mileage up the mountains--twenty leagues I take it--to saynothing of the climbing. "

"All of twenty leagues it will be when we've done with it. But our ridewon't be over then. If I'm not mistaken, we'll be back this way beforewe lay side on a bed. There's another nest not far off will claim avisit from us, one we're not likely to find so empty. I'd rob it now ifI had my way; but for certain reasons, mustn't without permit fromheadquarters; the which I'm sure of getting! _Carajo_! if the cockbirds have escaped, I'll take care the hens don't. "

And as if to make sure of it, he dug the spurs deep into the flanks ofhis now jaded charger, again commanding the "quick gallop. "

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX. 

A DAY OF SUSPENSE. 

Dawn was just beginning to show over the eastern _Cordilleras_, itsaurora giving a rose tint to the snowy cone of Popocatepec, as theHussars passed back through San Augustin. The bells of the _paroquia_had commenced tolling matins, and many people abroad in the streets, hurrying toward the church, saw them--interrogating one another as towhere they had been, and on what errand bound. 

But before entering the _pueblo_ they had to pass under the same eyesthat observed them going outward on the other side; these more keenlyand anxiously scrutinising them now, noting every file as it came insight, every individual horseman, till the last was revealed; thenlighting up with joyous sparkle, while they, thus observing, breathedfreely. 

For the soldiers had come as they went, not a man added to their number, if none missing, but certainly no prisoners brought back!

"They've got safe off, " triumphantly exclaimed the Countess, when therearmost files had forged past, "as I told you they would. I knew therewas no fear after they had been warned. "

That they had been warned both were by this aware, their messengerhaving meanwhile returned and reported to that effect. He had met theHussars on their way up, but crouching among some bushes, he had beenunobserved by them; and, soon as they were well out of the way, slippedout again and made all haste home. 

He had brought back something more than a mere verbal message--a_billetita_ for each of the two who had commissioned him. 

The notes were alike, in that both had been hastily scribbled, and inbrief but warm expression of thanks for the service done to the writers. Beyond this, however, they were quite different. It was the firstepistle Florence Kearney had ever indited to Luisa Valverde, and ran infervid strain. He felt he could so address her. With love long indoubt that it was even reciprocated, but sure of its being so now, hespoke frankly as passionately. Whatever his future, she had his heart, and wholly. If he lived, he would seek her again at the peril of athousand lives; if it should be his fate to die, her name would be thelast word on his lips. 

"_Virgen Santissima_! Keep him safe!" was her prayer, as she finisheddevouring the sweet words; then, refolding the sheet on which they werewritten, secreted it away in the bosom of her dress--a treasure moreesteemed than aught that had ever lain there. 

The communication received by the Condesa was less effusive, and more tothe point of what, under present circumstances, concerned the writer, as, indeed, all of them. Don Ruperto wrote with the confidence of alover who had never known doubt. A man of rare qualities, he was trueto friendship as to his country's cause, and would not be false to love. And he had no fear of her. His _liens_ with Ysabel Almonte were suchas to preclude all thought of her affections ever changing. He knewthat she was his--heart, soul, everything. For had she not given himevery earnest of it, befriended him through weal and through woe? Norhad he need to assure her that her love was reciprocated, or his fealtystill unfaltering; for their faith, as their reliance, was mutual. Hisletter, therefore, was less that of a lover to his mistress than onebetween man and man, written to a fellow-conspirator, most of it infigurative phrase, even some of it in cypher!

No surprise to her all that; she understood the reason. Nor was thereany enigma in the signs and words of double signification; withoutdifficulty she interpreted them all. 

They told her of the anticipated rising, with the attempt to be made onOaxaca, the hopes of its having a success, and, if so, what would comeafter. But also of something before this--where he, the writer, and hisFree Lances would be on the following night, so that if need arose shecould communicate with him. If she had apprehension of danger to him, he was not without thought of the same threatening herself and herfriend too. 

Neither were they now; instead, filled with such apprehension. In viewof what had occurred on the preceding evening, and throughout the night, how could they be other? The dwarf must know more than he had revealedin that dialogue overheard by Jose. In short, he seemed aware ofeverything--the _cochero's_ complicity as their own. The free surrenderof their watches and jewellery for the support of the escaped prisonerswere of itself enough to incriminate them. Surely there would beanother investigation, more rigorous than before, and likely to have adifferent ending. 

With this in contemplation, their souls full of fear, neither went thatmorning to matins. Nor did they essay to take sleep or rest. Instead, wandered about the house from room to room, and out into the grounds, seemingly distraught. 

They had the place all to themselves; no one to take counsel with, noneto comfort them; Don Ignacio, at an early hour, having been called offto his duties in the city. But they were not destined to spend thewhole of that day without seeing a visitor. As the clocks of SanAugustin were striking 8 p. M. One presented himself at the gate in theguise of an officer of Hussars, Don Carlos Santander. Nor was he alone, but with an escort accompanying. They were seated in the verandah ofthe inner court, but saw him through the _saguan_, the door of which wasopen, saw him enter at the outer gate, and without dismounting come ontowards them, several files of his men following. He had beenaccustomed to visit them there, and they to receive his visits, howeverreluctantly, reasons of many kinds compelling them. But never had hepresented himself as now. It was an act of ill-manners his enteringunannounced, another riding into the enclosure with soldiers behind him;but the rudeness was complete when he came on into the _patio_ still inthe saddle, his men too, and pulled up directly in front of them, without waiting for word of invitation. The stiff, formal bow, theexpression upon his swarthy features, severe, but with ill-concealedexultation in it, proclaimed his visit of no complimentary kind. 

By this both were on their feet, looking offended, even angry, at thesame time alarmed. And yet little surprised, for it was onlyconfirmation of the fear that had been all day oppressing them--its veryfulfilment. But that they believed it this they would have shown theirresentment by retiring and leaving him there. As it was, they knew thatwould be idle, and so stayed to hear what he had to say. It was--

"_Senoritas_, I see you're wondering at my thus presenting myself. Notstrange you should. Nor could any one more regret the disagreeableerrand I've come upon than I. It grieves me sorely, I assure you. "

"What is it, Colonel Santander?" demanded the Countess, with_sang-froid_ partially restored. 

"I hate to declare it, Condesa, " he rejoined, "still more to execute it. But, compelled by the rigorous necessities of a soldier's duty, Imust. "

"Well, sir; must what?"

"Make you a prisoner; and, I am sorry to add, also the Dona Luisa. "

"Oh, that's it!" exclaimed the Countess, with a scornful inclination ofthe head. "Well, sir, I don't wonder at your disliking the duty, as yousay you do. It seems more that of a policeman than a soldier. "

The retort struck home, still further humiliating him in the eyes of thewoman he loved, Luisa Valverde. But he now knew she loved not him, andhad made up his mind to humble her in a way hitherto untried. Stung bythe innuendo, and dropping his clumsy pretence at politeness, hespitefully rejoined--

"Thank you, Condesa Almonte for your amiable observation. It doessomething to compensate me for having to do policeman's duty. And nowlet it be done. Please to consider yourself under arrest; and you also, Senorita Valverde. "

Up to this time the last named lady had not said a word, the distressshe was in restraining her. But as mistress there, she saw it was herturn to speak, which she did, saying--

"If we are your prisoners, Colonel Santander, I hope you will not takeus away from here till my father comes home. As you may be aware, he'sin the city. "

"I am aware of that, Dona Luisa, and glad to say my orders enable me tocomply with your wishes, and that you remain here till Don Ignacioreturns. I'm enjoined to see to your safe keeping--a very absurdrequirement, but one which often falls to the lot of the soldier as wellas the _policeman_. "

Neither the significant words nor the forced laugh that accompanied themhad any effect on her for whom they were intended. With disdain in hereyes, such as a captive queen might show for the common soldier whostood guard over her, the Condesa had already turned her back upon thespeaker and was walking away. With like proud air, but less confidentand scornful, Luisa Valverde followed. Both were allowed to passinside, leaving the Hussar colonel to take such measures for theirkeeping as he might think fit. 

His first step was to order in the remainder of his escort anddistribute them around the house, so that in ten minutes after the _casade campo_ of Don Ignacio Valverde bore resemblance to a barrack, withsentinels at every entrance and corner!

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN. 

UNDER ARREST. 

Scarce necessary to say that Luisa Valverde and Ysabel Almonte were atlength really alarmed--fully alive to a sense of their danger. 

It was no more a question of the safety of their lovers, but their own. And the prospect was dark, indeed. Santander had said nothing of thereason for arresting them; nor had they cared to inquire. They divinedit; no longer doubting that it was owing to revelations made by thehunchback. 

Sure now that this diminutive wretch not only himself knew their secret, but had made it known in higher quarters, there seemed no hope for them;instead, ruin staring them in the face. The indignity to their personsthey were already experiencing would be followed by social disgrace, andconfiscation of property. 

"Oh, Ysabelita! what will they do to us?" was the Dona Luisa's anxiousinterrogatory, soon as they had got well inside their room. "Do youthink they'll put us in a prison?"

"Possibly they will. I wish there was nothing worse awaiting us. "

"Worse! Do you mean they'd inflict punishment on us--that is, corporalpunishment? Surely they daren't?"

"Daren't! Santa Anna dare anything--at least, neither shame nor mercywill restrain him. No more this other man, his minion, whom you knowbetter than I. But it isn't punishment of that kind I'm thinking of. "

"What then, Ysabel? The loss of our property? It'll be all taken fromus, I suppose. "

"In all likelihood it will, " rejoined the Condesa, with as muchunconcern as though her estates, value far more than a million, were notworth a thought. 

"Oh! my father! This new misfortune, and all owing to me. 'Twill killhim!"

"No, no, Luisita! Don't fear that. He will survive it, if aughtsurvives of our country's liberty. And it will, all of it, be restoredagain. 'Tis something else I was thinking of. "

Again the other asked "What?" her countenance showing increased anxiety. 

"What we as women have more to fear than aught else. From the loss oflands, houses, riches of any sort, one may recover--from the loss ofthat, never!"

Enigmatic as were the words, Luisa Valverde needed no explanation ofthem, nor pressed for it. She comprehended all now, and signified herapprehension by exclaiming, with a shudder, "_Virgen Santissima_!"

"The prison they will take us to, " pursued the Countess, "is a place--that in the Plaza Grande. We shall be immured there, and at the mercyof that man, that monster! O God!--O Mother of God, protect me!"

At which she dropped down upon a couch despairingly, with face buried inher hands. 

It was a rare thing for the Condesa Almonte to be so moved--rather, toshow despondence--and her friend was affected accordingly. For therewas another man at whose mercy she herself would be--one like a monster, and as she well knew equally unmerciful--he who at that moment was underthe same roof with them--in her father's house, for the time its master. 

"But, Ysabel, " she said, hoping against hope, "surely they will not dareto--"

She left the word unspoken, knowing it was not needed to make hermeaning understood. 

"Not dare!" echoed the Countess, recovering nerve and again rising toher feet. "As I've said, he'll dare anything--will Don Antonio Lopez DeSanta Anna. Besides, what has _he_ to fear? Nothing. He can show goodcause for our imprisonment, else he would never have had us arrested. Enough to satisfy any clamour of the people. And how would any one everknow of what might be done to us inside the Palacio? Ah, _Luisitaquerida_, if its walls could speak they might tell tales sad enough tomake angels weep. We wouldn't be the first who have been subjected toinsult--ay, infamy--by _El excellentissimo. Valga me Dios_!" she criedout in conclusion, stamping her foot on the floor, while the flash ofher eyes told of some fixed determination. "If it be so, that Palaceprison will have another secret to keep, or a tale to tell, sad andtragic as any that has preceded. I, Ysabel Almonte, shall die in itrather than come out dishonoured. "

"I, too!" echoed Luisa Valverde, if in less excited manner, inspired bya like heroic resolve. 

While his fair prisoners were thus exchanging thought and speech, Santander, in the _sala grande_ outside, was doing his best to pass thetime pleasantly. An effort it was costing him, however, and one farfrom successful. His last lingering hope of being beloved by LuisaValverde was gone--completely destroyed by what had late come to hisknowledge--and henceforth his love for her could only be as that ofTarquin for Lucretia. Nor would he have any Collatinus to fear--norival, martial or otherwise--since his master, Santa Anna, had longsince given up his designs on Don Ignacio's daughter, exclusivelybending himself to his scheme of conquest--now revenge--over theCondesa. But though relieved in this regard, and likely to have his ownway, Carlos Santander was anything but a happy man after making thatarrest; instead, almost as miserable as either of those he had arrested. 

Still keeping up a pretence of gallantry, he could not command theircompany in the drawing-room where he had installed himself; nor, underthe circumstances, would it have been desirable. He was not alone, however; Major Ramirez and the other officers of his escort being therewith him; and, as in like cases, they were enjoying themselves. Howeverconsiderate for the feelings of the ladies, they made free enough withthe house itself, its domestics, larder, and _cocina_, and, above all, the cellar. Its binns were inquired into, the best wine ordered to bebrought from them, as though they who gave the order were the guests ofan hotel and Don Ignacio's drawing-room a drinking saloon. 

Outside in the courtyard, and further off by the coach-house, similarscenes were transpiring. Never had that quiet _casa de campo_ known somuch noise. For the soldiers had got among them--it was the house of a_rebel_, and therefore devoted to ruin. 

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT. 

THE COCHERO DOGGED. 

Just after the ladies had been proclaimed under arrest, but before thesentinels were posted around the house, a man might have been seenoutside their line, making all haste away from it. He had need, hiscapture being also contemplated. Jose it was, who, from a place ofconcealment, had not only seen what passed, but heard the conversationbetween Santander and the Senoritas. The words spoken by his youngmistress, and the rejoinder received, were all he waited for. Givinghim his cue for departure, they also gave him hopes of something morethan the saving of his own life. That the last was endangered he knewnow--forfeited, indeed, should he fall into the hands of those who hadinvaded the place. So, instead of returning to the stable-yard, fromwhich he had issued on hearing the _fracas_ in front, he retreatedrearwards, first through the ornamental grounds, then over the wall uponwhich the hunchback had perched himself on the preceding night. Jose, however, did not stay on it for more than a second's time. Soon asmounting to its summit, he slid down on the other side, and ran alongthe lane in the direction of the main road. 

Before reaching this, however, a reflection caused him to slacken pace, and then come to a stop. It was still daylight, and there would be aguard stationed by the front gate, sure to see him along the road. Theground on the opposite side of the lane was a patch of rocky scrub--inshort, a _chapparal_--into which in an instant after he plunged, andwhen well under cover again made stop, this time dropping down on hishands and knees. The attitude gave him a better opportunity oflistening; and listen he did--all ears. 

To hear voices all around the house, loudest in the direction of thestable-yard. In tones not of triumph, but telling of disappointment. For in truth it was so; the shouts of the soldiers searching for hisvery self, and swearing because he could not be found. He had reason tocongratulate himself in having got outside the enclosure. It was nowbeing quartered everywhere, gardens, grounds, and all. 

For the time he felt comparatively safe; but he dared not return to thelane. And less show himself on the open road; as scouting parties weresure of being sent out after him. There was no alternative, therefore, but stay where he was till the darkness came down. Luckily, he wouldnot have long to wait for it. The sun had set, and twilight in theMexican valley is but a brief interval between day and night. In a fewminutes after commencement it is over. 

Short as it was, it gave him time to consider his future course ofaction, though that required little consideration. It had been alreadytraced out for him, partly by the Condesa, in an interview he held withher but an hour before and partly by instructions he had received whenup at the old convent direct from the lips of Don Ruperto. Therefore, hurried as was his retreat, he was not making it as one who went blindlyand without definite aim. He had this, with a point to be reached, which, could he only arrive at, not only might his own safety besecured, but that of those he was equally anxious about, now moreimperilled than himself. 

With a full comprehension of their danger, and the hope of being able toavert it, soon as the twilight deepened to darkness he forsook histemporary place of concealment, and, returning to the lane, glidednoiselessly along it towards the main road. Coming out upon this, heturned to the left, and without looking behind, hurried up the hill asfast as his limbs could carry him. 

Perhaps better for him had he looked behind; and yet in the end it mighthave been worse. Whether or no, he was followed by a man--if it were aman--and, if a thing, not his own shadow. A grotesque creature, seemingly all arms and legs, moved after, keeping pace with him, nomatter how rapidly he progressed. Not overtaking him; though it lookedas if able to do so, but did not wish. Just so it was--the stalkerbeing Zorillo. 

The stalk had risen rather accidentally. The hunchback--now in a mannerattached to the party of Hussars--had been himself loitering near theend of the lane, and saw the _cochero_ as he came out on the road. Heknew the latter was being sought for, and by no one more zealously thanhimself. Besides cupidity, he was prompted by burning revenge. Thedisappearance of his ill-gotten treasure was no longer a mystery to him. The abandoned halters, with the horses for which they had beenintended, told him all. Only the _cochero_ could have carried thethings off. 

And now, seeing the latter as he stole away in retreat, his firstimpulse was to raise the hue and cry, and set the soldiers after. Butother reflections, quick succeeding, restrained him. They might not bein time to secure a capture. In the darkness there was every chance ofthe _mertizo_ eluding them. A tract of forest was not far off, and hewould be into it before they could come up. Besides, the hunchback hadalso conjectured that the failure of their over-night expedition was dueto Jose. He must have overheard that conversation with the colonel ofHussars, and carried it direct to those whom it so seriously concerned, thus saving them from the surprise intended. In all likelihood he wasnow on his way to another interview with them. 

If so, and if he, Zorillo, could but spot the place, and bring backreport of it to Santander, it would give him a new claim for services, and some compensation for the loss he had sustained through the nowhated _cochero_. 

Soon as resolved he lost not a moment in making after, keeping just suchdistance between as to hinder Jose from observing him. He had theadvantage in being behind, as it was all uphill, and from below he couldsee the other by the better light above, while himself in obscurity. But he also availed himself of the turnings of the road, and the scrubthat grew alongside it, through which he now and then made way. Hislong legs gave a wonderful power of speed, and he could have come upwith the _mertizo_ at any moment. He knew that, but knew also it wouldlikely cost him his life. For the _cochero_ must be aware of what hehad done--enough to deserve death at his hands. He might well dread anencounter, and was careful to avoid it. Indeed, but for his belief thathe was an overmatch for the other in speed, he would not have venturedafter him. 

For nearly five miles up the mountain road the stalk was continued. Then he, whose footsteps were so persistently dogged, was seen to turninto a side path, which led along a ravine still upward. But thechange, of course, did not throw off the sleuth-hound skulking on histrack, the latter also entering the gorge, and gliding on after. 

There it was darker, from the shadow of the overhanging cliffs; and fora time the hunchback lost sight of him he was following. Still, he kepton, groping his way, and at length was rewarded by seeing a light--agreat blaze. It came from a bivouac fire, which threw its red glare onthe rocks around, embracing within its circle the forms of men andhorses. Armed men they were, and horses caparisoned for war, as couldbe told by the glint of weapons and accoutrement given back to thefire's blaze. 

There appeared to be over a hundred of them; but the hunchback did notapproach near enough to make estimate of their number. Enough for himto know who they were; and this knowledge he obtained by seeing a man ofgigantic size standing by the side of the fire--the "big _Tejano_!" Hesaw, too, that the _cochero_ had got upon the ground, his arrivalcreating an excitement. But he stayed to see no more: his purpose wasfulfilled; and turning back down the ravine, he again got out to theroad, where he put on his best speed in return for Tlalpam. 

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE. 

READY TO START. 

As in all Mexican country houses of the class mansion, that of DonIgnacio Valverde was a quadrangular structure enclosing an innercourtyard--the _patio_. The latter a wide open area, flagged, in itscentre a playing fountain, with orange trees and other ornamentalevergreens growing in great boxes around it. Along three sides ran averandah gallery, raised a step or two above the pavement, with abaluster and railing between. Upon this opened the doors of thedifferent chambers, as they would into the hallway of an English house. Being one-storeyed, even the sleeping apartments were entered directfrom it. 

That into which the ladies had retired was the _cuarto de camara_ of DonLuisa herself. No sentry had been stationed at its door; this beingunnecessary, in view of one posted at the _patio_. But through acasement window, which opened into the garden at the back, they couldsee such precaution had been taken. A soldier out there, with carbinethrown lightly over his left arm, was doing his beat backwards andforwards. 

As they had no thought of attempting escape, they might have laughed atthis had they been in a mood for merriment. But they were sad, even toutter prostration. 

Only for a time, however; then something of hope seemed to reanimate theCondesa, and communicate itself to her companion. It was after a reportbrought in by Pepita; for the lady's maid was allowed to attend uponthem, coming and going freely. 

"He's got away--safe!" were her words, spoken in a cautious but cheeringtone, as for the second time she came into the room. 

"Are you sure, Pepita?"

It was the Countess who put the question. 

"Quite sure, your ladyship. I've been all around the place, to thestable, grounds, everywhere, and couldn't hear or see anything of him. Oh! he's gone, and so glad I am. They'd have made him prisoner too. Thanks to the Blessed Virgin, they haven't. "

The thanksgiving was for Jose, and however fervent on Pepita's part, itwas as fervently responded to by the others, the Condesa seeming moreespecially pleased at the intelligence. 

She better understood its importance, for, but the hour before, she hadgiven him conditional instructions, and hoped he might be now in the actof carrying them out. 

Upheld by this hope, which the Dona Luisa, when told of it, shared withher, they less irksomely passed the hours. 

But at length, alas! it, too, was near being given up, as the night grewlater, nearing midnight. Then the little _mertiza_ came in charged withnew intelligence; not so startling, since they anticipated it. The_Dueno_ had got home, and, as themselves, was under arrest. Astoundedby what he had learned on return, and angrily protesting, the soldiershad rudely seized hold of him, even refusing him permission to speakwith his daughter. 

She had harboured a belief that all might be well on the coming home ofher father. The last plank was shattered now. From the chair of thecabinet minister Don Ignacio Valverde would step direct into the cell ofa prison! Nothing uncommon in the political history of Mexico--only oneof its "cosas. "

On their feet they were now, and had come close to the door, which washeld slightly open by Pepita. There they stood listening to what wasgoing on outside. The sounds of revelry lately proceeding from the_sala grande_ were no more heard. Instead, calls and words of commandin the courtyard, with a bustle of preparation. Through thetrellis-work they could see a carriage with horses attached, distinguishable as their own. It was the same which had just broughtDon Ignacio from the city. But the heads of the _frisones_ were turnedoutward, as if it was intended to take them back. Men on horseback weremoving around it; soldiers, as could be seen by their armour gleaming inthe moonlight. 

Those regarding their movements were not left long in suspense as totheir meaning. One of the soldiers on foot, whose sleeve chevronsproclaimed him a corporal, stepped up into the corridor, and advancingalong it, halted in front of their door. Seeing it open, with facesinside, he made a sort of military salute, in a gruff voice saying:

"_Senoritas_! Carriage ready. I've orders to conduct you to it withoutdelay. "

There was something offensive in the man's manner. He spoke with athick tongue, and was evidently half intoxicated. But his air showedhim in earnest. 

"You'll allow us a little time--to put on our cloaks?"

The request came from the Condesa, who for a certain reason was wishfulto retard their departure as long as might be possible. 

"_Carrai-i_!" drawled out the _cabo_, the same who had won the daggerfrom darling Perico. "I'd allow such beautiful _doncellas_ as you anytime--all night--if 'twere only left to me. For myself, I'd far ratherstick to these snug quarters, and the company of this pretty_muchacha_. "

At which, leaning forward, with a brutish leer, he attempted to snatch akiss from Pepita. 

The girl shrunk back, but not till she had rebuked him with an angryretort and a slap across the cheek. It stung him to losing temper, andwithout further ceremony he said spitefully--

"Come, come, I'll have no more dilly-dallying: _nos vamos_!"

There was no alternative but to obey; his attitude told them he wouldinsist upon it, and instantly. Time for cloaking had been a pretence ontheir part. They were expecting the summons, and the wraps were closeat hand. Flinging them around their shoulders, and drawing the hoodsover their heads, they issued out upon the corridor, and turned alongit--the soldier preceding, with the air of one who conducted criminalsto execution. 

A short flight of steps led down to the pavement of the court. Onreaching these, they paused and looked below. There was still abustling about the carriage, as if some one had just been handed intoit. Several of the soldiers were on foot around it, but the majoritywere in their saddles; and of these three or four could be distinguishedas officers by the greater profusion of gold lace on their jackets anddolmans--for they were all Hussars. One who glittered more than any, seeing them at the head of the stair, gave his horse a prick with thespur, and rode up. Colonel Santander it was, like all the rest somewhatexcited by drink; but still not so far gone as to forget gallantry, orrather the pretence of it. 

"Ladies, " he said, with a bow and air of maudlin humility, "I have toapologise for requiring you to start out on a journey at such a latehour. Duty is often an ungracious master. Luckily, your drive is notto be a very extended one--only to the city; and you'll have company inthe carriage. The Dona Luisa will find her father at home. "

Neither vouchsafed rejoinder--not a word--scarce giving him the grace ofa look. Which a little nettling him, his smooth tone changed toasperity, as addressing himself to the soldier, he gave the abruptorder:

"_Cabo_! take them on to the carriage. "

On they were taken; as they approached it, perceiving a face inside, pale as the moonbeams that played upon it. It was a very picture ofdejection; for never had Don Ignacio Valverde experienced misery such ashe felt now. 

"'Tis you, father!" said his daughter, springing up, throwing her armsaround him, and showering kisses where tears already trickled. "You aprisoner, too!"

"Ay, _nina mia_. But sit down. Don't be alarmed! It will all comeright. Heaven will have mercy on us, if men do not. Sit down, Luisa!"

She sat down mechanically, the Countess by her side; and the door wasbanged to behind them. Meanwhile, Pepita, who insisted on accompanyingher mistress, had been handed up to the box by a _cochero_ strange toher; one of the soldiers, pressed into the service for the occasion, a_quondam_ "jarvey, " who understood the handling of horses as everyMexican does. 

All were now ready for the road; the dismounted Hussars had vaulted intotheir saddles, the "march" was commanded, and the driver had drawn hiswhip to lay it on his horses, when the animals jibbed, rearing up, andsnorting in affright!

No wonder, with such an object suddenly coming under their eyes. Anoddly-shaped creature that came scrambling in through the _saguan_, andmade stop beneath their very noses. A human being withal; who, soon asentering, called out, in a clear voice, --"Where is the Colonel?"

CHAPTER SIXTY. 

"SURRENDER!"

If the carriage horses were startled by the apparition, no less so werethe Hussars formed round. Equally frightened these, though not from thesame cause. The hunchback--for it was he--had become a familiar sightto them; but not agitated as he appeared to be now. He was panting forbreath, barely able to gasp out the interrogation, "Adone 'staelCoronel?"

His distraught air and the tone told of some threatening danger. 

"Here!" called out Santander, springing his horse a length or twoforward, "What is it, sirrah?"

"The enemy, S'nor Colonel, " responded the dwarf, sliding close in to thestirrup. 

"Enemy! What enemy?"

"Them we missed catching--Don Ruperto, the Irlandes, the big Tejano. "

"Ha!--They!--Where?"

"Close by, S'nor. I saw them round a great camp-fire up in themountains. They're not there now. I came on to tell you. I ran asfast as ever I was able, but they've been following. I could hear thetramp of their horses behind all the way. They must be near at handnow. Hark!"

"Patria y Libertad!"

The cry came from without, in the tone of a charging shibboleth, othervoices adding, "Mueran los tyrannos!"

Instantaneously succeeded by the cracking of carbines, with shouts, andthe clash of steel against steel--the sounds of a hand-to-hand fight, which the stamping and snorting of horses proclaimed between cavalry. 

Never was conflict of shorter duration; over almost before they in thecourtyard could realise its having commenced. The confused sounds ofthe _melee_ lasted barely a minute when a loud huzza, drowning thehoof-strokes of the retreating horses, told that victory had declareditself for one side or the other. They who listened were not long indoubt as to which sent up that triumphant cheer. Through the frontgate, standing open, burst a mass of mounted men, some carrying lancescouched for the thrust, others with drawn sabres, many of their bladesdripping blood. On came they into the courtyard, still vociferating:"Mueran los tyrannos!" while he at their head, soon as showing himself, called out in a commanding voice, "Rendite?"

By this a change had taken place in the tableau of figures beside thecarriage. The Hussars having reined back, had gathered in a ruck aroundtheir colonel, irresolute how to act. Equally unresolved he to orderthem. That cry, "Country and Liberty, " had struck terror to his heart;and now seeing those it came from, recognising the three who rodeforemost--as in the clear moonlight he could--the blood of the cravenran cold. They were the men he had subjected to insult, directdegradation; and he need look for no mercy at their hands. With a sparkof manhood, even such as despair sometimes inspires, he would have shownfight. Major Ramirez would, and did; for at the first alarm he hadgalloped out to the gate and there met death. 

Not so Santander, who, although he had taken his sword out of itsscabbard, made no attempt to use it, but sat shivering in his saddle, asif the weapon was about to drop from his hand. 

On the instant after a blade more firmly held, and better wielded, flashed before his eyes; he who held it, as he sprung his horse up, crying out:

"Carlos Santander! your hour has come! Scoundrel! _This time_ I intendkilling you. "

Even the insulting threat stung him not to resistance. Never shonemoonlight on more of a poltroon, the glitter and grandeur of his warlikedress in striking contrast with his cowardly mien. 

"Miserable wretch!" cried Kearney--for it was he who confronted him--"Idon't want to kill you in cold blood Heaven forbid my doing murder. Defend yourself. "

"He defend hisself!" scornfully exclaimed a voice--that of Cris Rock. "He dassen't as much as do that. He hasn't the steel shirt on now. "

Yet another voice at this moment made itself heard, as a figure, feminine, became added to the group. Luisa Valverde it was, who, rushing out of the carriage and across the courtyard, cried out--

"Spare his life, Don Florencio. He's not worthy of your sword. "

"You're right thar, young lady, " endorsed the Texan, answering forKearney. "That he ain't--an' bare worth the bit o' lead that's insideo' this ole pistol. For all, I'll make him a present o' 't--thar, dangye. "

The last words were accompanied by a flash and a crack, causingSantander's horse to shy and rear up. When the fore hoofs of the animalreturned to the flags, they but missed coming down upon the body of itsrider, now lying lifeless along them. 

"That's gin him his quieetus, I reckin, " observed Rock, as he glanceddown at the dead man, whose face upturned had the full moonlight uponit, showing handsome features, that withal were forbidding in life, butnow more so in the ghastly pallor of death. 

No one stayed to gaze upon them, least of all the Texan, who had yetanother life to take, as he deemed in the strict execution of duty andsatisfaction of justice. For it too was forfeit by the basest betrayal. The soldiers were out of their saddles now, prisoners all; havingsurrendered without striking a blow. But crouching away in a shadowycorner was that thing of deformity, who, from his diminutive size, mightwell have escaped observation. He did not, however. The Texan had hiseyes on him all the while, having caught a glimpse of him as they wereriding in at the gate. And in those eyes now gleamed a light of avengeance not to be allayed save by a life sacrificed. If Santander onseeing Kearney believed his hour was come, so did the dwarf as he sawCris Rock striding towards him. Caught by the collar, and dragged outinto the light, he knew death was near now. 

In vain his protestations and piteous appeals. Spite of all, he had todie. And a death so unlike that usually meted out to criminals, as hehimself to the commonality of men. No weapon was employed in putting anend to him: neither gun nor pistol, sword nor knife. Letting go hold ofhis collar, the Texan grasped him around the ankles, and with a brandishraising him aloft, brought his head down upon the pavement. There was acrash as the breaking of a cocoa-nut shell by a hammer; and when Rocklet go, the mass of mis-shapen humanity dropped in a dollop upon theflags, arms and legs limp and motionless, in the last not even the powerleft for a spasmodic kick. 

"Ye know, Cap, " said the Texan, justifying himself to Kearney, "I'd bethe last man to do a cruel thing. But to rid the world o' sech varmintas them, 'cording to my way o' thinking, air the purest hewmanity. "

A doctrine which the young Irishman was not disposed to dispute just atthat time, being otherwise and better occupied, holding soft hands inhis, words exchanging with sweet lips, not unaccompanied by kisses. Near at hand Don Ruperto was doing the same, his _vis-a-vis_ being theCondesa. 

But these moments of bliss were brief--had need be. The raid of theFree Lances down to San Augustin was a thing of risk, only to have beenattempted by lovers who believed their loved ones were in deadly danger. In another hour or less, the Hussars who had escaped would reportthemselves at San Angel and Chapultepec--then there would be a rush ofthousands in the direction of Tlalpam. 

So there was in reality--soldiers of all arms, "horse, foot, anddragoons. " But on arrival there they found the house of Don IgnacioValverde untenanted; even the domestics had gone out of it; thecarriage, too, which has played such an important part in our tale, along with the noble _frisones_. The horses had not been taken out ofit, nor any change made in the company it carried off. Only in thedriver, the direction, and _cortege_. Jose again held the reins, heading his horses up the mountain road, instead of towards Mexico;while, in place of Colonel Santander's Hussars, the Free Lances ofCaptain Ruperto Rivas now formed a more friendly escort. 

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE. 

CONCLUSION. 

About a month after in San Augustin a small two-masted vessel--agoleta--might have been observed standing on tacks off the coast ofOaxaca, as if working against the land wind to make to the mouth of RioTecoyama--a stream which runs into the Pacific near the south-westerncorner of that State. Only sharp eyes could have seen the schooner; forit was night, and the night was a very dark one. There were eyessharply on the lookout for her, however, anxiously scanning the horizonto leeward, some of them through glasses. On an elevated spot among themangroves, by the river's mouth, a party was assembled, in all about ascore individuals. They were mostly men, though not exclusively; threefemale figures being distinguishable, as forming part of the group. Twoof them had the air, and wore the dress, of ladies, somewhat torn andtravel-stained; the third was in the guise of a maid-servant attendingthem. They were the Condesa Almonte the Don Luisa Valverde, and herever faithful Pepita. 

Among the men were six with whom the reader has acquaintance. DonIgnacio, Kearney, Rock, Rivas, Jose, and he who had been major-domo inthe old monastery, baptismally named Gregorio. Most of the others, undescribed, had also spent some time in the establishment with themonks while playing the part of Free Lances. They were, in fact, aremnant of the band--now broken up and dispersed. 

But why! When last seen it looked as though their day of triumph hadcome, or was at all events near. So would it have been but for abetrayal, through which the _pronunciamento_ had miscarried, or ratherdid not come off. The Dictator, well informed about it--further warnedby what occurred at San Augustin--had poured troops over the Sierrasinto Oaxaca in force sufficient to awe the leaders of the intendedinsurrection. It was but by the breadth of a hair that his late CabinetMinister, and those who accompanied him, were able to escape to thesequestered spot where we find them on the shore of the South Sea. ToAlvarez, chief of the Pintos, or "spotted Indians, " were they indebtedfor safe conduct thither; he himself having adroitly kept clear of allcompromise consequent on that grito unraised. Furthermore, he hadpromised to provide them with a vessel in which they might escape out ofthe country; and it was for this they were now on the lookout. 

When Ruperto Rivas, gazing through that same telescope he had givenFlorence Kearney to make survey of the valley of Mexico, cried out, "Lagoleta!" every eye around him brightened, every heart beat joyously. 

Still more rejoiced were they when, after an hour's tacking against theland breeze, the goleta got inside the estuary of the stream, andworking up, brought to by the edge of the mangroves. 

Unencumbered with heavy baggage, they were all soon aboard, and in threedays after debarked at the port of Panama. Thence crossing the Isthmusto Chagres, another sea-going craft carried them on to the city, wherethey need no longer live in fear of Mexico's despot. 

Back to his old quarters in New Orleans had Don Ignacio repaired; againunder the ban of proscription, his estates sequestrated as before. So, too, those of the Condesa Almonte. 

But not for all time, believed they. They lived in hope of arestoration. 

Nor were they disappointed; for it came. The _pronunciamento_ delayedwas at length proclaimed, and carried to a successful issue. Once againthroughout the land of Anahuac had arisen a "grito, " its battle cry"Patria y Libertad!" so earnestly and loudly shouted as to drive theDictator from his mock throne; sending him, as several times before, toseek safety in a foreign land. 

Nor were the "Free Lances" unrepresented in this revolutionary struggle;instead, they played an important part in it. Ere it broke out, theywho had fled the country re-entered it over the Texan border, andrejoining their brethren, became once more ranged under the leadershipof Captain Ruperto Rivas, with Florence Kearney as his lieutenant, andCris Rock a sort of attache to the band, but a valuable adjunct to itsfighting force. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swords returned to their scabbards, bugles no longer sounding warsignals, it remains out to speak of an episode of more peaceful andpleasanter nature, which occurred at a later period, and not _so verylong_ after. The place was inside the Grand Cathedral of Mexico, atwhose altar, surrounded by a throng of the land's elite, bells ringing, and organ music vibrating on the air, stood three couples, waiting to bewedded. 

And wedded they were! Don Ruperto Rivas to the Condesa Almonte, Florence Kearney to the Dona Luisa Valverde, and--Jose to Pepita. 

Happy they, and happy also one who was but a witness of the ceremony, having a better view of it than most of the spectators, from being thehead and shoulders taller than any. Need we say this towering personagewas the big Tejano? Cris looked on delightedly, proud of his comradeand _protege_, with the beautiful bride he had won and was wedding. Forall it failed to shake his own faith in single blessedness. In his eyesthere was no bride so beautiful as the "Land of the Lone Star, " no wifeso dear as its wild "purairas. " And to them after a time he returned, oft around the camp-fire entertaining his companions of the chase withan account of his adventures in the Mexican valley--how he had therefigured in the various roles of jail-bird, scavenger, friar, and last ofall as one of the Free Lances. 

THE END.