CHAPTER THIRTY.
A SOLDIER AGAINST HIS WILL.
As soon as the man had gone out of the apartment the student lookedunder his pillow. Sure enough there lay a document, which proved uponexamination to be an ensign's commission, granted to Don CornelioLantejas, and signed by the commander-in-chief of the insurgent army--Don Jose Maria Morelos y Pavon.
An overwhelming anguish seized the spirit of the student; and once morehe sprang from his couch and rushed towards the window. This time itwas with the design of disavowing all participation in theinsurrection--like the early Christians, who in the midst of anidolatrous host of persecutors still continued to avow their faith inGod.
But the evil genius of Don Cornelio was yet by his side; and, at themoment when he was about opening his lips to deny all complicity withthe enemies of Spain, his senses again gave way; and, without knowingwhat came out of his mouth, he cried in a loud voice, "_Viva Mexico,muera el tyran_!" Then, overcome by the effort, he staggered back tohis couch.
This time his syncope was of short duration. On recovering his senses,he perceived that his bed was surrounded by armed men; who, judging fromtheir looks and speeches, were examining him with more than ordinaryinterest. Among others he recognised the voice of Morelos himself!
"How can one explain this sudden sympathy with our cause?" Morelos wasinquiring. "It seems as if the young man was under the hallucination ofhis fever?"
"Something more than that, General," suggested an officer of the name ofValdovinos. "If the most ardent patriotism was not boiling at thebottom, the foam would not thus rise to the surface."
"No matter!" rejoined Morelos, "but I cannot think that my ascendancy--"
A new-comer interrupted the speech of the _cura_ of Caracuaro, just asLantejas had got his eyes fairly open. This was a man of robust andvigorous appearance, with a noble martial air, and a bold opencountenance. His large beard, and hair slightly grizzled, betrayed hisage to be somewhere near fifty.
"And why not, General?" said he, taking hold of the hand which Morelosstretched out to him. "Why should not this brave young man havesubmitted to your ascendancy at first sight, just as I have done? It isonly this morning I have seen you for the first time, and yet you haveno follower more devoted than myself. I shall answer for this youngstranger. He is one of us, beyond doubt."
As the new-comer pronounced these words, he cast upon Lantejas a glanceso winning and at the same time so severe, that it completely subjugatedthe spirit of the student with a sort of invincible charm, and hinderedhim from making any attempt to contradict the engagement which was thusmade in his name. On the contrary, he rather confirmed it with aninvoluntary gesture, which he could not restrain himself from making.
The man who had thus intervened was he whom historians delight to call_the grand, the terrible, the invincible Hermenegildo Galeana_--theMurat of the Mexican revolution; he who afterwards, in more than ahundred actions, was seen to place his lance in rest, and dash into thethickest of the enemy's lines, like a god of battles, vociferating hisfavourite war-cry, _Aqui esta Galeana_! (Here comes Galeana!) Aredoubtable enemy--a friend tender and devoted--such was DonHermenegildo Galeana.
More fortunate than Murat, Galeana met his death on the battle-field, inthe midst of hosts slain by his own hand. Still more fortunate than theFrench warrior, he died faithful to the principles as well as to the innto whom he had consecrated his life.
"Well--however the thing may be," said Valdovinos, pursuing the subjectof Don Cornelio's dubious patriotism, "I know this, that General Callejahas set a price upon this young man's head as well as on our own."
"Come, _Alferez_ Don Cornelio!" added Galeana, "get ready to start inthe morning; and show yourself worthy of the commission that has beenbestowed upon you. You will soon find opportunity, I promise you."
At that moment the report of a cannon reverberated under the window, tothe astonishment of Morelos himself: who had not yet been made awarethat he had a piece of artillery under his orders.
"Senor General," said Galeana, explaining the presence of the gun, "thatcannon is part of the patrimonial inheritance of our family. When aGaleana is born or one dies, it serves to signalise our joy or oursorrow. To-day we consecrate it to the service of the whole Mexicanfamily. It is yours, as our swords and lives are yours."
As Galeana finished speaking, he advanced towards the window; and inthat formidable voice which often struck terror into the hearts of theSpaniards, he cried out--"_Viva el General Morelos_!"
Responsive _vivas_ rose up from the court below, mingled with theclanking of sabres, as they leaped forth from their scabbards, and thecrashing jar of fusils dashed heavily against the pavement; while thehorses, catching up the general enthusiasm, sent forth a loud, wildneighing.
In another instant the chamber was emptied of its guests. Morelos hadgone down into the courtyard to press the hands of his new adherents,and the other officers had followed him.
Far from partaking of the universal warlike ardour, the student wassuffering at the moment the most terrible anguish of heart. The thoughtof his theological studies being thus interrupted, in order that hemight figure in the middle of an insurgent camp, was rendering himcompletely miserable; but still more the unpleasant information he hadjust received, that he had been declared a rebel, and that a price wasset upon his head. All this, too, had been brought about by theshameful stinginess of his father, in providing him with that sorrymule--just as his former misfortunes had arisen, from his having nobetter horse than the old steed of the _picador_.
It is scarce necessary to say, that under these circumstances he passeda wretched night of it, and that his dreams were a continued series ofhorrid visions. He fancied himself engaged in numerous sanguinarybattles: and that the insurgent army in which he was enrolled hadsuddenly changed into a legion of demons, with horns and hoofs!
On waking with the first dawn of day, his dreams, instead of beingterminated, appeared to be continued. He heard a noisy tumult in thecourt below; and rising far above the general clamour could bedistinguished a strange trumpet-like sound, now shrill, now hoarselybellowing--as if the fiend himself was sounding the signal of "Boots andSaddles" to his infernal legions. Bathed in a cold sweat, he started upfrom his couch; and approaching the window, cast a glance into thecourtyard. As before, he saw that it was crowded with armed men inevery kind of equipment. The cannon was there, standing in the middleof the court. A negro was reloading it. It was not without surprisethat Don Cornelio recognised in the negro the same man who, along withthe tiger-hunter, had conducted him to the hacienda of Las Palmas.
Yes, the artillerist was no other than Clara; who was thus improvised asfull commander of the solitary piece of cannon--the first which Moreloshad at his disposal, and which, under the name of _El Nino_, becameafterwards so celebrated in the history of the Mexican revolution. Thestudent also saw the instrument that had been bellowing forth thoseinfernal tones, which he had been fancying he had heard somewherebefore. His fancy was not at fault, as he now ascertained--on seeingnear the cannon a tall Indian, who was holding to his lips an immensesea-shell, from which proceeded the mysterious sounds. It was Costaland his conch, at that moment performing the _metier_ of first bugler inthe army of Morelos. Morelos himself, surrounded by a staff ofofficers, stood at one end of the spacious courtyard, in the act ofdistributing fusils to the newly enrolled troops.
Lantejas perceived the necessity of making ready for the departure whichwas evidently about to take place; and having dressed himself, hedescended to the court and mingled among the other officers--beyonddoubt the most lugubrious ensign in all the insurgent army.
The first person he encountered was the terrible Galeana; and hetrembled lest the piercing glance of the warrior should detect under thelion's skin the heart of the hare.
Luckily for him, however, Galeana had at that moment something else tothink of, than to scrutinise the thoughts of an obscure ensign; and allthe rest were deceived
by the martial air which he had done his best toassume.
Morelos, as stated, was at the moment making a distribution of fusils, alarge quantity of which appeared by his side piled along the pavement ofthe courtyard.
It is necessary to explain how these arms had fallen so appropriatelyinto the hands of the insurgent general--which they had done by acircumstance that might appear almost providential.
While retiring from the hacienda of San Luis, on account of the insanedemonstrations of the student, and with the latter transported in alitter, Morelos encountered near San Diego the insurgent leader, DonRafael Valdovinos. The latter, already at the head of a small_guerilla_ was just on his way to join the _cura_ of Caracuaro.
Having received information that the Spanish Government had forwarded alarge number of fusils to the neighbouring village of Petitlan, for thepurpose of equipping a corps of militia belonging to that place, theinsurgent general thought that these guns might serve better in thehands of his own followers; and with the band of Valdovinos he made arapid march upon Petitlan, and succeeded in capturing them.
The rumour of this dashing action had reached San Diego before Moreloshimself; and, shortly after his arrival there, his troops were furtherstrengthened by the followers of Galeana--who stood in need of thiswell-timed supply of weapons.
Almost on the instant that Lantejas presented himself in the courtyard,the cannon, El Nino, thundered forth another discharge. It was thesignal of departure; and the little army, putting itself in motion,marched off from the hacienda of San Diego--the new _alferez_ taking hisplace with the rest.
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Morelos was shortly after joined by other partisans, till his troop hadgrown into a small army; and, after two months of long marches, andsharp skirmishes with the Spanish troops--out of which he always issuedvictorious--the insurgent general found himself in front of the town ofAcapulco, on the Pacific Ocean. He was now besieging that place--whichhe had been ironically commanded to take--and with a fair prospect ofobtaining its speedy surrender.
As for the student of theology, two months' campaigning had somewhat_soldierised_ him. He had obtained a great reputation for courage;although his heart in moments of danger had often been upon the point offailing him.
On the first occasion that he was under fire, he was by the side of DonHermenegildo Galeana, who had acquired a complete ascendancy over him,and whose terrible glances he more dreaded than even the presence of theenemy. Don Hermenegildo of course fought in the foremost rank; where,with his lance and long sabre, he was accustomed to open a wide circlearound his horse, that no enemy dared to intrude upon, and which, forthe sword of the trembling ensign, left absolutely nothing to do.Lantejas having learnt, in the first encounter, the advantage of thisposition, ever afterwards took care to keep well up with the redoubtableDon Hermenegildo.
There was another man, who, from habit, always fought alongside Galeana,and who scarce yielded to the latter either in courage or dexterity.This was Costal, the Zapoteque; and protected by these two, as by a pairof guardian angels, Lantejas scarce ran any danger in the hottest fight;while at the same time he was constantly gaining fresh laurels bykeeping the position.
For all this, his glory sat upon him like a burden too heavy for hisback, and one that he was not able to cast from his shoulders. Todesert from the insurgent army was impossible: a price was set upon hishead. Besides, Morelos had given to that corner of the Sabana riveroccupied by his camp the quaint title of _Paso de la eternidad_ (theroad to eternity)--to signify that, whoever should attempt either toabandon the entrenchments, or make an attack upon them, would be forcedto embark upon that long journey.
Lantejas had already written to his father, informing him of all thathad happened; how--thanks to the valuable roadster with which his parenthad provided him--he was now sustaining his thesis with the sword; andthat, instead of having only his hair shorn, he was more likely to losehis head.
To these letters--for there had been several written by him--he had atlength received a response. This, after complimenting him upon thevalorous deeds he had achieved--and which his worthy parent had hardlyexpected to hear of--ended by informing him that the latter had obtainedfrom the Viceroy a promise of pardon for him, on the condition of hisforsaking the insurgent cause, and throwing the weight of his sword intothat of Spain.
This condition was hardly to the taste of Lantejas. In the ranks of theSpanish army he might seek in vain for two such protectors as he now hadby his side. Moreover, were he to join the Spaniards, he might someday, as an enemy, be brought face to face with the formidable Galeana!The very thought of such a contingency was enough to make his hair standon end!
It was some time before he could bring himself to any definiteresolution as to what he should do. At length, however, he resolvedupon a course of action. Instead of attempting to run away from theinsurgent ranks, he determined to say nothing to the General about thecontents of his father's letter, but to obtain from him, if possible, ashort leave of absence: which it was his intention should be prolongedto an indefinite period.
It was for this purpose he had entered the General's tent, and was nowstanding, hat in hand, in front of the Commander-in-Chief of thebesieging army.