"You will grant me one--that of giving me your hand," said the ex-muleteer, at the same time cordially holding out his own.
"Never to a conqueror!" exclaimed Don Rafael, though evidently affected, in spite of himself, by the action and speech of his generous enemy.
"Here there is neither conqueror nor conquered," rejoined Trujano, with that winning smile that gained all hearts. "There is a man, however, who always remembers a service done to him."
"And another who never forgets one," repeated Don Rafael, with warmth, at the same time grasping the hand that was still held towards him.
Then the two hors.e.m.e.n drew their horses nearer, and exchanged the most cordial greetings.
Trujano profited by this occasion to whisper in the ear of his enemy, and with a delicacy which still further moved Don Rafael, whose pride he had treated with such condescension--
"Go--you are free. Only promise not to cut the hair off the heads of any more poor women; although it is said there was one whose heart trembled with pride that the conqueror of Aguas Calientes should send her such a terrible souvenir. Go!" added he, withdrawing his hand from the convulsive grasp of Don Rafael, "deliver yourself up a prisoner at the hacienda Las Palmas, where the road is open for you, believe me."
Then, as if he had too long occupied himself with the trivial affairs of the world, the countenance of Trujano resumed its expression of ascetic gravity, and when the eye of Don Rafael was interrogating it, in hopes of reading there the true signification of the last words, the insurgent chieftain called out--
"Let Don Rafael Tres-Villas pa.s.s free! Let every one forget what has occurred."
Saying this, he formally saluted the Royalist colonel with his sword, who could only return the salute with a glance of the most profound grat.i.tude.
Don Rafael pressed the hand of the Captain; and bowing coldly to the other insurgents, rode out from their midst. Then, urging his horse into a gallop, he followed the road that led outward from the plain of Huaj.a.pam.
On finding himself alone, he reduced the speed of his horse to a walk, and became absorbed in a reverie of reflection. The last words of Trujano--what could they mean? "_The road is open for you, believe me_." Was it an a.s.surance that he should be welcomed at the hacienda of Las Palmas? Should he proceed thither, as the insurgent colonel had counselled him? or should he go direct to Del Valle, to make arrangements for his last campaign against the brigand Arroyo?
Once more had commenced the struggle between love and duty.
Don Rafael would not have hesitated long as to the course he should pursue, had some good genius only made known to him a certain fact--that at that same hour an accident was occurring at the hacienda Del Valle, of a nature to reconcile the two conflicting sentiments that had warped the thread of his destiny.
A messenger from Don Mariano--the same who had brought back Roncador to Del Valle--had on that very day again presented himself at the hacienda.
This time his errand was one of a purely personal nature--to Don Rafael Tres-Villas himself.
"Where are you from?" demanded Veraegui of the messenger, in his usual blunt Catalonian fashion.
"Oajaca!"
"Who has sent you?"
"Don Mariano de Silva."
"What do you want with the Colonel?"
"I can only declare my errand to the Colonel himself."
"Then you will have to go to Huaj.a.pam first--that is, unless you prefer to wait till he arrives here. We expect him in three or four days."
"I prefer going to Huaj.a.pam," rejoined the man "my errand is of such a nature that it will not bear delay."
This messenger was on his way to Huaj.a.pam, and not more than thirty leagues from the town, at the moment when Don Rafael was leaving it to proceed in the opposite direction.
Meanwhile Trujano, returning to the field of battle covered with the bodies of his dead and wounded enemies, caused all his soldiers to kneel, and publicly render thanks to G.o.d for having delivered them from their long and painful siege. Morelos at the same moment ordered his troops to prostrate themselves in prayer; and then a psalm was sung by all in chorus, to consecrate the important victory they had gained.
Don Rafael was still not so distant from the field but that he could hear the swelling of many voices in the pious chaunt. The sounds fell with melancholy effect upon his ears, until the tears began to chase themselves over his cheeks.
In reviewing the circ.u.mstances which had influenced him to change his line of conduct in regard to this revolution, he reflected that had he given way to more generous instincts, and not allowed himself to be forced astray by the desire of fulfilling a rash vow, his voice would at that moment have been mingling with theirs--one of the loudest in giving thanks for the success of a cause of which he was now the irreconcilable enemy!
With an effort he repulsed these reflections, and sternly resolved upon going to the hacienda Del Valle, to re-steel his heart over the tomb of his father.
A perilous journey it would be for him. The whole province--the capital and one or two other places excepted--was now in the hands of the insurgents; and a royalist officer could not travel the roads without great risk of falling into their hands.
"G.o.d protects him who does his duty," muttered Don Rafael, as he again turned his horse to the roads, spurring him into a gallop, in order that the sound of his hoofs might drown that pious song, which, by stirring up sad souvenirs, was fast weakening his resolution.
In another hour he had crossed the Sierra which bounded the plain of Huaj.a.pam, and was following the road which led southward to the hacienda Del Valle.
CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.
RUDE GUESTS.
Let us now recount the events which took place at the hacienda Las Palmas from the day on which Captain Tres-Villas was compelled to leave Don Mariano and his two daughters at the mercy of the ferocious robbers Arroyo and Bocardo.
The two guerilleros had sought refuge there, with the remnant of their band--most of which had been already destroyed by Tres-Villas and Caldelas. From the moment of first entering his house, they had insisted upon a footing of perfect equality between themselves and their old master. Even Gertrudis and Marianita were not exempted from this compulsory social levelling. The brigands ate at the same table with Don Mariano and his daughters--were waited upon by the servants of the hacienda--and slept in the very best beds the house afforded.
All the while Bocardo was observed to cast covetous glances on the silver plate--which, as is customary in the houses of Mexican _ricos_, was ma.s.sive and abundant.
In Don Mariano"s presence he was in the habit of frequently making allusion to the richness of the Royalists; and behind his back he had several times endeavoured to persuade Arroyo that one who was the proprietor of such wealth, as was enjoyed by the haciendado, could not be otherwise than an enemy to the insurgent cause, and, at the bottom of his heart, a friend to the oppressors of the country.
"Look at us, poor insurgents!" he would say, "often reduced--especially when absent from this hospitable mansion--to use our fingers for forks, and our _tortillas_ for spoons!"
And the wind-up of his argument always was, that they "ought to treat as a Royalist a master who dined every day upon silver plates--that Don Mariano should be reduced to the same condition as other patriotic insurgents, and use his fingers for forks, while his plates should be converted into piastres."
Up to a certain period Arroyo rejected these proposals of his comrade.
Not that he had any more respect for the property of Don Mariano than his a.s.sociate had; but rather that he was not yet sufficiently hardened to reckless outrage, as to perpetrate such an audacious robbery on one who was publicly known to be a friend to the insurgent cause. We say, up to a certain time Arroyo preserved these egotistical scruples; but that time terminated on the day and hour when, in the presence of his old master, and the whole household of Las Palmas, he was forced to endure the terrible insults inflicted upon him by the dragoon captain.
From that moment he transferred a portion of his vengeful hatred for Don Rafael to the haciendado and his daughters; and it is possible that on his leaving Las Palmas the night after--which the dangerous proximity of Del Valle influenced him to do--he would have left b.l.o.o.d.y traces behind him, but for the interference of his a.s.sociate Bocardo.
The latter, in his turn, had counselled moderation. More covetous of gold, and less thirsty of blood than Arroyo, the astute brigand had represented, that "there could be no great blame attached to them for using the silver of Don Mariano to serve the good cause of the insurrection; that the more needy of the insurgents might justly demand aid from their richer brethren, but not their lives or their blood."
Arroyo no longer combated the proposals of his _confrere_. To him they now appeared moderate; and the result was, that the two _forbans_ collected all of Don Mariano"s silver they could lay their hands upon, with such other valuables as were portable--and, having made a distribution among their followers, decamped that night from Las Palmas, taking good care in their _Haegira_ to give the hacienda of Del Valle a wide berth.
With regard to Don Mariano and his daughters, they were only too happy that nothing worse than robbery had been attempted by the brigands.
They had dreaded outrage as well as spoliation; and they were rejoiced at being left with their lives and honour uninjured.
Made aware, by this episode, of the danger of living any longer in a house isolated as Las Palmas--which might be at the mercy any moment of either royalists or insurgents--Don Mariano bethought him of retiring to Oajaca. He would be safer there--even though the town was thoroughly devoted to the cause of the king; for, as yet, his political opinions had not been declared sufficiently to compromise him. For some days, however, circ.u.mstances of one kind or another arose to hinder him from putting this project into execution.
The hacienda of San Carlos, inhabited by the man who was about to become his son-in-law--Don Fernando de Lacarra--was only a few leagues distant from that of Las Palmas; and Marianita did not like the idea of leaving the neighbourhood. Without stating the true one, she urged a thousand objections to this departure. Gertrudis was also against it. The souvenirs which Las Palmas called up were at once sweet and sad; and the influence which sorrow has over love is well-known--especially within the heart of woman.
In the hacienda Las Palmas sad memories were not wanting to Gertrudis.
How often, at sunset, did she sit in the window of her chamber, with her eyes bent in dreamy melancholy over the distant plain--deserted as on that evening when Don Rafael hastened to arrive, risking life that he might see her but an hour sooner!
When Don Rafael, in the first burst of his grief and vengeance, indulged in that wild pleasure which is often felt in breaking the heart of another, while one"s own is equally crushed--when he galloped off along the road to Oajaca, after burying the _gage d"amour_ in the tomb of his father--thus renouncing his love without telling of it--then, and for some time after, the young girl waited only with vivid impatience. The pique she had at first felt was soon effaced by anxiety for his safety; but this at length gave place to agony more painful than that of suspense--the agony of suspicion.