CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE.
LANTEJAS BEHEADED.
The short interval of bluish light between daybreak and sunrise in thetropics was nearly over, when Captain Lantejas and his two trustyfollowers climbed into their saddles to proceed towards the ford of theOstuta. A difficulty yet lay in the way of their reaching it: sincebefore gaining the river it would be necessary for them to pass withinsight of the hacienda Del Valle, and they might be seen, as theysupposed, by the sentinels of the royalist garrison. As yet the threetravellers were ignorant that the place was blockaded by the guerilla ofArroyo.
"If we were to pass it by night," said Costal, "it would look moresuspicious. Better to go in full daylight. Clara can ride ahead of us.If any one stops him, he can ask permission for a merchant and hisservants who are travelling southward. If, on the other hand, he seesno one, he may ride on; and we can follow him without further ceremony."
The advice was to the liking of the Captain; and they accordinglycommenced advancing along the road that would conduct them past thehacienda.
In about a quarter of an hour they arrived in front of it, near the endof the long avenue already mentioned. Costal and Don Cornelio halted atsome distance behind while Clara rode forward; and, to make sure that noone was there, even entered the avenue itself.
Not a human being could be seen. The place appeared deserted--all wassilent as upon that night when Don Rafael rode up to the house to findonly desolation and death.
Still further to guard against surprise, Clara rode on up the avenue;but he had scarce gone a hundred paces from the main road when a soldierappeared behind the parapet of the hacienda, evidently watching hisapproach.
The black seeing that he was discovered kept on straight for thebuilding.
The distance hindered Don Cornelio and Costal from distinguishing thewords that passed between Clara and the sentry; but they could see thatthe latter was pointing out something to the black which was to theminvisible. Whatever the object was, it appeared to excite the risiblefaculties of the negro: for, distant as he was, they could distinctlyhear him laughing.
Meanwhile the sentinel disappeared, and as Clara continued to indulge inhis hilarity, it was evident he had obtained the permission asked for.At all events, Don Cornelio and Costal regarded his behaviour as a goodomen.
Nevertheless he seemed to hesitate about returning to the road; andinstead of doing so, the moment after, he made signs to Don Cornelio andCostal to advance up the avenue.
Both instantly obeyed the invitation; and when they had arrived near thewalls, Clara, still shaking his sides with laughter, pointed out to themthe object which had given origin to his mirth.
On beholding it, Don Cornelio believed that his eyes were deceiving him.In truth the spectacle, to which he was thus introduced, had verylittle in it to justify the merriment of the black. In place of theheads of wolves and other noxious animals, which may often be seennailed up against the walls of country houses, here there were threehuman heads! They were not yet desiccated, but appeared as if freshlycut off from the bodies to which they belonged.
"Wretched man!" cried Don Cornelio, addressing himself to Clara, "whatis there in such a sight to excite your gaiety?"
"_Carrambo_!" exclaimed the negro, answering to the reproach by a freshburst of laughter,--then, in a whisper, he continued, pointing to one ofthe heads--
"Senor Captain, don't you see? One of the heads is yours!"
"Mine?" muttered the ex-student, suddenly turning pale, though, as hefelt his head still upon his shoulders, he believed that the negro wasonly mocking him.
"So the sentry has just told me," affirmed Clara, "but, Senor Captain,you who know how to read may satisfy yourself."
As the negro spoke he pointed to an inscription, that appeared over oneof the heads. Don Cornelio, despite the gloomy shadow which the tallcypresses cast over the wall, was able to read the inscription: "_Estaes la cabeza del insurgente Lantejas_." (This is the head of theinsurgent Lantejas.)
It was in reality the head of an insurgent of the same name as DonCornelio himself--one of Arroyo's followers, who, as already known, bythe report of Gaspacho, had been captured during a sortie of thebesieged.
Don Cornelio turned his eyes away from the hideous spectacle presentedby the head of his namesake; and anathematising once more theunfortunate name which he had inherited from his father, made all hasteto ride off from the spot.
In proportion as the distance between him and the hacienda increased,his terror became diminished, and at length ended in a melancholy smileat the odd coincidence of the encounter with his beheaded homonyme.
But the profound silence that surrounded him as he journeyed along, andthe knowledge that in a few minutes he would find himself face to facewith the redoubtable guerillero, once more imbued the mind of theCaptain with the darkest presentiments.
Without permitting his companions to suspect the sentiments that weretroubling him, he would willingly have proposed deferring for anotherday his interview with the bandit chief. Both Costal and Clara,however, as they rode along by his side, presented an appearance of suchstoical indifference to danger, that he felt ashamed of showing himselfless brave than they; and, thus restrained, he continued to travel on insilence.
Shortly after, they came in sight of the river, and at the same timecould command a view of the banks on both side of the ford. DonCornelio became reassured at the sight. Neither horse, horseman, nortent, was to be seen. Noisy and bustling as the place had been in themorning, it was now in the evening completely silent and deserted. Nota trace remained of the encampment of Arroyo--save the smoulderingbivouac fires, and the debris of various articles that lay scatteredover the ground.
"If I know," said Costal to the Captain, "how to pick the truth from thelies which that scurvy fellow has told us--he who took such a marvellousfancy to your cloak--I should say we are on the road that will guide usto the man you are in search of. He is at this moment, I venture tosay, at the hacienda San Carlos--notwithstanding that the droll humbugappeared to make such a mystery of his whereabouts."
"But suppose the hacienda San Carlos to be occupied by a Spanishgarrison?" suggested the Captain.
"Let us first cross the river," said Costal, "you can remain upon theother side with Clara, while I go forward and make a reconnaissance."
This proposition was agreed to by Don Cornelio; and the three travellershaving forded the stream, Costal prepared to separate from them.
"Be cautious, good Costal," said Lantejas, "there is danger on everyside of us."
"For me and Clara," remarked the Indian, with an ironical smile; "onewho has already lost his head should have nothing more to fear, SenorCaptain!"
Saying this, Costal went off at a trot, leaving the Captain and Clara onthe bank of the river.
The Indian had scarce passed out of sight, when a plunging in the waterannounced that horses were crossing the ford. Looking around, DonCornelio beheld two horsemen riding out on the bank where he and Clarahad halted. One of them carried behind him a pair of canvas alforjas,which appeared to have some large roundish objects inside. Merelyexchanging a brief salute, the horsemen were passing on; when theCaptain, in hopes of obtaining some information from them, inquired ifthe hacienda of San Carlos was far distant.
"No," replied one, "only about a quarter of a league."
"Are we likely to be well received there?" further asked Don Cornelio.
"Ah!" replied the second horseman, "that depends--"
The muttered voice, and the distance which he had already gained,hindered Don Cornelio from perceiving the tone of irony in which hespoke; but almost at the same instant the speaker elevated his voice toa high pitch, though only the last words were heard with distinctness.
These were, "_Mejico e independencia_."
The phrase was well-known to Don Cornelio.
"What word came before it?" inquired he of his companion; "_viva_, wasit not?"
"No, it was _muera_," replied t
he negro.
"You are mistaken, I think, Clara."
"No, I repeat it,--it was _muera_!"
Not having inquired from the horsemen whether San Carlos was in thepower of the royalists or insurgents, Don Cornelio remained as undecidedupon that point as ever.
A considerable time passed, and still Costal did not return.
"Suppose I gallop forward a bit," suggested Clara, "and see whether Ican meet him?"
The Captain having become uneasy about the prolonged absence of Costal,assented to this proposition; but at the same time directed the black toreturn in a quarter of an hour, if Costal did not make his appearancewithin that time.