"Ho!" cried the Lieutenant, angrily, as he started up from his chair; "and it is only now you tell me of this, when you might have brought the news in an hour?"
"Pardon, Lieutenant: both my companion and myself were also hunted by the same brigands; and we were not able to escape from the woods one minute sooner than we have done."
"Ah! in that case, I ask your pardon, and that of your companion there,"
continued the Lieutenant, turning to Zapote, "whom I should certainly have taken for a friend of Arroyo, rather than an enemy to that worthy individual. Where the devil have I seen you, my good fellow?" he added, fancying he recognised the features of the deserter.
"Oh! your honour, I have travelled a great deal," replied Zapote, whose presence of mind did not forsake him. "It would not be strange if--"
"So the Colonel has sent you to apprise me of his situation?" said the Lieutenant, without waiting for Zapote"s explanation.
"We met the Colonel without knowing him," blundered out Gaspar. "It was only afterwards we learnt it was he."
"Ha! that is very strange!" remarked the Catalan, again turning his eye upon the men with a suspicious glance.
Gaspar now related how, as he and his companion were flying from the bandits of Arroyo, Don Rafael had leaped down between them from the branches of a tree; and how they had parted from him without recognising him.
So far the story was well enough; but the narrator was treading on ground that was dangerous for Juan el Zapote. It remained to be explained how they had been informed, by the ex-comrades of the deserter, that the fugitive they had encountered was the Colonel Tres-Villas.
At this point Gaspar hesitated, while the suspicion glances of the Lieutenant flitted alternately from one to the other. Zapote, however, came resolutely to the aid of his companion.
"My compadre," said he, "does not wish to tell the whole truth, out of regard for me. I shall speak for him; and this it is. In going away from here on his message to the Colonel, my friend Gaspar was captured by the scouts of Arroyo, and taken to the camp of the guerilleros.
There he stood a very fair chance of losing his life, when, out of regard for our _compadrazgo_, and old acquaintance" sake, I consented to a.s.sist him at the risk of losing my head."
"Oh! you are then from the camp of Arroyo?"
"Yes," muttered Zapote, in a tone of compunction, "the lamb is sometimes found in the company of wolves."
"Especially when the lamb so nearly resembles a wolf, that it is difficult to distinguish them," rejoined the lieutenant with a smile.
"I have always been an honest man," affirmed Zapote, with a demure look.
"Virtue has been my motto through life; and I a.s.sure your honour, that I was forced to consort with these brigands very much against my will.
I was only too glad, when, to save my old compadre here, I found an opportunity of making some amends for the wicked life I have been obliged to lead in their company."
"Hum!" said the Lieutenant, with a dubious shrug of the shoulders, "I suppose you expect your virtue to be well rewarded. But how did you ascertain that the man you encountered so unexpectedly was the Colonel?"
Zapote now recounted their subsequent interview with the brigands; and how he had learnt from them the object of their pursuit--as well as the adroit ruse he had practised to secure the escape of himself and his "compadre."
"It"s all true as gospel!" affirmed Gaspar, when his companion had finished the relation.
Zapote also made known the advice he had given to Don Rafael: to conceal himself among the bamboos.
"At what place?" demanded the Lieutenant.
"Just below the ford," answered the deserter.
"But, Senor Lieutenant," added he, "I shall be most happy to conduct you to the spot myself."
"You shall do no such thing, my brave fellow. You and your worthy _compadre_, as you call him, shall remain here as hostages, till Don Rafael is found. I have no confidence in lambs that have been so long in the company of wolves. If the Colonel be living, so may you; but if I find it otherwise, then your prospects--Ho, there!" cried the Lieutenant, without finishing the threat, "take these two men to the guard-house, and keep them there, till I order them to be set free."
So saying, the Catalan poured out a gla.s.s of his favourite liquor, and commenced drinking it.
"What, and me, too?" inquired Gaspar, in a tone not very complimentary to his companion in misfortune.
"A fig for you! my worthy fellow!" rejoined the Lieutenant. "You should have remembered the proverb, _mas vale viajar in solo que mal acompanado_." (Better travel alone than in bad company.)
"By the cross of Christ!" continued he, after quaffing off his gla.s.s, "I shall make short work of it with this bandit, Arroyo. To-night I shall finish with him and his band; and if I don"t give the jackals and vultures a meal that will last them for a twelvemonth, my name"s not Veraegui!"
At an order from his superior, the _alferez_ flung down the cards, and hurried off to prepare the garrison troops for sallying out of the fort to the rescue of their Colonel; while the corporal of the guards conducted Gaspar and Zapote to the prison--the latter no little disconcerted at finding his first act of virtue so indifferently rewarded!
CHAPTER SEVENTY.
NEWS SWEET AND SAD.
From the middle of the cane-brake where Don Rafael had found shelter, he was able through the stems of the bamboos to see the camp of Arroyo and his bandits. He could note many of the movements pa.s.sing within their lines; and at length perceived the guerilleros striking their tents, and riding off in a body from the banks of the river.
He still kept his place, however, until the night had fairly come on, and then wading back to the high bank where the bamboo thicket commenced, he looked out upon the open s.p.a.ce between the river and the edge of the forest.
At first, all was silent along the bank of the stream; but shortly after three hors.e.m.e.n were seen riding past, and not far behind them two other men followed, also on horseback.
The first party were Don Cornelio and his companions, making for the ford of the river. The other hors.e.m.e.n were two of Arroyo"s _guerilla_-- who, by his orders, had remained near the hacienda Del Valle, for the purpose of taking down the heads of his three followers nailed over the gate--should an opportunity offer for their so doing. They had found the opportunity--as already known--and it was they who had pa.s.sed Don Cornelio at the ford, and whose ambiguous speech had caused a difference of opinion, as to its meaning, between the Captain and Clara.
The first care of Don Rafael, as soon as he believed the road to be clear, was to recover his horse--which he had left tied in a thicket in the woods.
Like his master, Roncador had escaped the researches of the bandits; but so weak was he with thirst and hunger, that Don Rafael had doubts whether the poor animal would be able to carry him. It was necessary that he should take the horse to the river, in order to water him. This required to be done by stealth; for, although Don Rafael had witnessed the departure of the guerilleros from the ford, he did not know whether those who blockaded the hacienda had also gone away.
After giving Roncador his drink, just as he was leading the horse up the bank again, he perceived a man coming from the direction of the ford.
As this man was on foot and alone, Don Rafael resolved to stop and question him. Sabre in hand, therefore, he placed himself in front of the pedestrian.
The latter, thus a.s.sailed by a man with a naked sword--and who was covered from head to foot with a coating of mud--was almost frightened out of his senses.
"Oh, Lord!" he cried, "help a poor servant who is seeking a.s.sistance for his master!"
"Who is your master?" demanded Don Rafael.
"Don Fernando Lacarra," answered the man.
"Of the hacienda San Carlos?"
"_Si, Senor_. You know him?"
"Yes: is he in any danger?"
"Alas!" replied this servant, "the hacienda is pillaged by guerilleros; and, just as I was leaving it, I heard the groans of my poor master under the lash of their Captain Arroyo--"
"Again this villain!" muttered Don Rafael, interrupting the narrator with his angry soliloquy.