CHAPTER SIXTY SIX.
DON CORNELIO A CAPTIVE.
Almost as soon as Clara had ridden out of sight, Don Cornelio began tocount the minutes. The quarter of an hour appeared a whole one; and,when it had passed, with no signs of either returning, he became morethan uneasy--he felt alarm.
In order to create some distraction for his thoughts, he rode gentlyforward--on the same path by which his two companions had gone. Notmeeting either, he kept on for another quarter of an hour. Becomingstill more alarmed, he was about to make a halt, when he saw lights thatseemed to go and come along the summits of the trees that appeared atsome distance before him. These lights had flashed into view at a turnof the road.
On looking more attentively, he perceived that the ground sloped up fromthe place which he occupied; and he was now enabled to distinguish theoutlines of a vast building, the windows of which were so brilliantlyilluminated from the inside, that one might have fancied the house to beon fire. Outside, upon the _azotea_, blazing torches appeared to becarried backward and forward. It was these that had first attracted theeye of Don Cornelio, who, on account of the elevation at which they wereseen, fancied them to be moving among the tops of the trees!
There was something too unnatural in these blazing torches, agitated bythe night breeze--but more especially in the strange lights that shonethrough the windows--now red, now blue, and then of a pale violetcolour, and in an instant changing from one hue to another--something sofantastically singular, that Don Cornelio suddenly drew up, withoutdaring to advance a pace further.
The superstitious ideas with which Costal had entertained him duringtheir journey now came into his mind; and, despite his disbelief inthem, he could not help conjuring up fancies almost as absurd. Heremembered the bull fulminated against the insurgents by the Bishop ofOajaca--representing them as spirits of darkness--and he began to fancythere must be some truth in it, and that he was now within view of thesevery demons. The silence that reigned around tended to strengthen thisfancy--which was now further confirmed by the sight of a phantom-likefigure clothed in white, seen for a moment gliding among the trees, andthen as suddenly vanishing out of sight. The phantom appeared to havecome from the direction of the illuminated building--as if fleeing fromsome danger that there menaced it.
The Captain made the sign of the cross, and then sat motionless in hissaddle--uncertain whether to remain where he was, or to gallop back tothe ford.
While thus irresolute, and asking himself whether the phantom he hadseen might have been a stray reflection of one of the torches, thelights all at once disappeared from the upper part of the building.
At the same moment four or five horsemen issued forth from the shadow ofthe walls, and galloped towards him, uttering loud yells. Don Cornelioperceived that his presence was discovered; but to put this beyonddoubt, a light at the moment flashed up among the horsemen, followed bythe report of a carbine, and the hissing of a bullet, which passed closeto his ears.
He no longer hesitated as to whether he should stand or fly. The bulletwas sufficient cue for flight; and, wheeling round, he set off in fullgallop towards the river.
Trained by the misfortunes which had occurred to him, from the mistakeneconomy of his worthy father, Don Cornelio had ever since felt anaversion to second-rate horses, and on the present journey he had takencare to provide himself with a good one. Knowing the fact, he had fairhopes of being able to distance his pursuers. Driving his spurs deeplyinto the ribs of his horse, he permitted the animal to choose its owncourse--so long as it carried him in a direction opposite to that fromwhich he was pursued.
Forgetting all about Costal and Clara, he rode away like the wind; and,in all likelihood, would have got clear beyond the reach of hispursuers, but for an unforeseen misfortune. In passing a giganticcypress his horse stumbled upon its projecting roots, and came headforemost to the ground--flinging his rider out of the saddle with suchforce that, but for the softness of the spot on which he fell, some ofhis bones would undoubtedly have suffered fracture.
He was but little damaged by the fall, and, before he could get to hisfeet, and recover his horse, one of the pursuers had ridden up, andcasting out a lazo, noosed him round the body.
To whom was the captain a prisoner?
Of this he was completely ignorant, still uncertain as to who were inpossession of the hacienda. As soon as he had regained his feet,however, a voice cried out, interrogatively, "For Spain, or theIndependence?"
Before making answer, Don Cornelio looked up. Half-a-dozen men hadarrived upon the ground, and encircled him in their midst, forming amenacing cordon around him. Of one and all the aspect was sinister anddoubtful.
"Spain, or the Independence?" repeated the voice, in a more threateningtone.
Thus brusquely called upon to proclaim his colours, the Captain, notknowing those of the party who surrounded him, hesitated to make answer.
"Very well, cavallero!" cried one of the men, "answer or not, as youplease. No doubt of it," he continued, addressing himself to a comrade,"this fellow is in company with the other two. Bring him along to thehacienda!"
At these words one of his captors seized Don Cornelio by the arm, andcommenced dragging him along toward the illuminated building.
"Hold!" cried the first speaker, as, under the glare of the distantlights, he saw that their prisoner was neither negro nor Indian. "_PorDios_! this fellow is white."
"Red, black, and white!" added another. "We want only a _mestizo_ tocomplete the collection."
From these speeches Don Cornelio conjectured that his comrades, Costaland Clara, had been already captured by the same party who were makinghim their prisoner.
He was still ignorant, however, as to whether his captors were royalistsor insurgents; and, before proceeding further, he determined, ifpossible, to settle that question.
"What do you want with me?" he inquired, in the hope of obtaining someclue in the answer.
"Not much," replied the spokesman of the party. "Only to nail your headin the place of that of Lantejas."
"Lantejas!" exclaimed Don Cornelio, inspired with a fresh hope. "Thatis my name. It is I who am the insurgent Lantejas, sent here to Oajaca,by General Morelos."
The declaration was received with a burst of savage laughter.
"_Demonio_!" cried one of the guerilleros, coming up with the horse ofDon Cornelio, "I have had trouble enough in catching this accursedbrute. It is to be hoped he carries something to repay me for it."
Don Cornelio fancied he knew the tone of this voice, but he had no timeto reflect upon where he had heard it, before its owner again cried out,"_Alabado sea Dios_! (Blessed be the Lord!) there is my cloak!"
Don Cornelio recognised the man who the day before had taken such afancy to his cloak. In a word, the speaker was Gaspacho.
"What a lucky fellow I am to meet you again," continued the brigand;"that cloak is much too large for you. I told you so yesterday."
"Such as it is, it satisfies me," meekly responded the Captain.
"Oh! nonsense," rejoined Gaspacho, at the same time throwing off his owntattered scrape, and making a significant gesture to Don Cornelio touncloak himself.
The latter hesitated to comply with this rude invitation; but almost onthe instant Gaspacho snatched the garment from his shoulders, and coollywrapped it round his own.
"Now, amigo," cried one of Gaspacho's confreres, "surely a man without ahead has no need of a hat? Yours appears as if it would just fit me,"and saying this, the bandit picked the hat from Don Cornelio's head, atthe same time flinging his own battered sombrero to the ground.
As there was nothing more upon the person of the prisoner to tempt thecupidity of the brigands, the lazo was unloosened from around his arms,and he was ordered to accompany his captors to the hacienda. This hedid willingly enough: for the presence of Gaspacho told him that he wasin the hands of the guerilleros of Arroyo.
"Can I see the Captain?" he inquired.
"What C
aptain?"
"Arroyo."
"Ah! you wish to see him?" responded Gaspacho. "That rather surprisesme. You shall have the pleasure of seeing him soon enough, I fancy.Come along!"
The guerilleros continued on to the house, conducting their prisoneralong with them.
As they drew near to the walls, the attention of Don Cornelio was againattracted to the singular lights that seemed to be burning within thehouse. It could not be the flame of a conflagration, else the buildingwould long since have been consumed.
A few minutes brought them up to the gate. It was shut, and one of themen knocked against it with the hilt of his sabre, at the same timegiving utterance to a password, which Don Cornelio did not understand.What he did comprehend was, that the moment had come when, _bon gre malgre_, he was called upon to acquit himself of the commission with whichMorelos had entrusted him.
It often happens that danger in prospective is more dreaded than when itis present; and so was it in this instance: for, on his arrival at thegate, Don Cornelio felt less embarrassed with apprehensions than he hadbeen ever since his departure from the camp at Huajapam.
The huge door turned upon its heavy hinges to admit the horsemen--in themidst of whom the prisoner was carried into a large, paved courtyard,illuminated by the flames of several fires that burned in the open air.Around these fires could be distinguished the forms of men--to thenumber of one hundred or more--grouped in different attitudes, or lyingasleep upon the pavement. Along the walls stood as many horses,completely equipped for the road. The bridles only were off, andhanging suspended over the saddle-bow--in order that the animals mightconsume their rations of maize, served to them in wooden troughs. Hereand there, stacks of carbines, lances, and sabres, glanced under thelight of the fires, and Don Cornelio could not help shivering withterror as he looked upon these fierce bandits, in the midst of theirpicturesque accoutrements.
Most of them remained as they were, without offering to stir. The sightof a fresh prisoner was nothing new to them. One only coming forward,asked Gaspacho, in a tone of indifference, what had taken him out atthat hour of the night.
"Well!" exclaimed the cloak-robber in reply. "They say that themistress of the hacienda has escaped by a window. Her husband says sheis absent. I don't care whether it's true or not. All I know is, thatwe can see nothing of her without; and we should have returnedempty-handed, if good fortune hadn't thrown into our hands thisgentleman here. I have no doubt he is a royalist spy, since he wantedto pass himself off for our old comrade--the Lieutenant Lantejas."
"Ah!" rejoined the other, "he would ill like to be Lantejas just now."
And as the man said this he returned to the fire, which he had for themoment forsaken.
The captors of Don Cornelio were soon lost amidst the groups of theirassociates--Gaspacho alone staying to guard him.
Only a few seconds did the cloak-robber remain in the courtyard; afterwhich, making a sign to his prisoner to follow him, he commencedreascending the stone _escalera_ that led to the second storey of thebuilding.