CHAPTER IV.

  JOHN DAVIS.

  The Mexican flotilla, impelled by a favourable breeze, accomplished thepassage from the island to the mainland in a comparatively very briefperiod. The brig and corvette, anchored under the battery of the fort,made no move to disturb the General; and it was evident that the Texansdid not suspect the events taking place at this moment, but awaited thereturn of their Envoy ere making any demonstration.

  Colonel Melendez had seized the few boats capable of standing out to seain Galveston harbour, so that the magistrates could not, had they wishedit, have sent a boat to the Texans to inform them of the precipitatedeparture of the Mexican garrison. The General's resolution had beenformed so suddenly, and executed with such rapidity, that the partisansof the revolution in the town, and who were ignorant of the cause ofthat retreat, felt singularly embarrassed by the liberty so singularlygranted them, and did not know what arrangements to make, or how toenter into communication with their friends, whose position they wereignorant of. Only one man could have enlightened them, and he was JohnDavis. But General Rubio, foreseeing what would have inevitably happenedhad he left the ex-slave dealer behind him, had been very careful tocarry him off with him.

  The landing of the troops was effected under the most favourableconditions. The point they steered for was in the hands of the Mexicans,who had a strong detachment there, so that the army got ashore withoutarousing the slightest suspicion, or any attempt to prevent thelanding. The General's first care, so soon as he reached the mainland,was to send off spies in every direction, in order to discover, were itpossible, the enemy's plans, and whether they were preparing to make aforward movement.

  The boats which had been used to convey the troops were, till furtherorders, drawn up on the beach, through fear lest the insurgents mightmake use of them. Two schooners, however, on each of which two guns wereput, received orders to cruise in the bay, and pick up all boats theinhabitants of Galveston might attempt to send off to the Chief of theTexan army.

  The banks of the Rio Trinidad are charming and deliciously diversified,bordered by rushes and reeds, and covered with mangroves, amid whichsport thousands of flamingoes, cranes, herons, and wild ducks, whichcackle noisily as they swim about in tranquil and transparent waters.About four miles from the sea, the banks rise gradually with insensibleundulations, and form meadows covered with a tall and tufted grass, onwhich grow gigantic mahogany trees with their oblong leaves, and Perutrees with their red fruit, and magnolias, whose large white flowersshed an intoxicating perfume. All these trees, fastened together bylianas which envelop them in their inextricable network, serve as aretreat for a population of red and grey squirrels, that may be seenperpetually leaping from branch to branch, and of cardinal and mockingbirds. The centzontle, the exquisite Mexican nightingale, so soon asnight arrives, causes this picturesque solitude to re-echo with itsgentle strains.

  On the side of a hill that descends in a gentle slope to the river,glisten the white walls of some twenty cottages, with their flat roofsand green shutters, hanging in clusters from the scarped side of thehill, and hidden like timorous birds amid the foliage. These fewcottages, built so far from the noise of the world, constitute therancho of San Isidro.

  Unfortunately for the inhabitants of this obscure nook, General Rubio,who felt the necessity of choosing for the site of his camp a strongstrategic position, came suddenly to trouble their peace, and recallthem rather roughly to the affairs of this world. In fact, from thisspecies of eagles' nests, nothing was easier than for the General tosend his columns in all directions. The Mexican army, therefore, marchedstraight on the rancho of San Isidro, where it arrived about midday. Atthe unexpected appearance of the troops, the inhabitants were soterrified that, hastily loading themselves with their most valuablearticles, they left their houses and fled to hide themselves in thewoods.

  Whatever efforts the General might make to prevent them, or bring themback to their houses, the poor Indians offered a deaf ear to all, andwere resolved not to remain in the vicinity of the troops. The Mexicanstherefore remained sole possessors of the rancho, and at once installedthemselves in their peaceful conquest, whose appearance was completelychanged within a few hours. Tall trees, flowers, and lianas, nothing wasrespected. Enormous masses of wood lay that same evening on the ground,which they had so long protected with their beneficent shadow. The verybirds were constrained to quit their pleasant retreat, to seek a shelterin the neighbouring forest.

  When all the approaches to the forest had been cleared for a radius ofabout twelve hundred yards, the General had the place surrounded bypowerful barricades, which transformed the peaceful village into afortress almost impregnable, with the weak resources the insurgentspossessed. The trees on the interior of the rancho were alone leftstanding, not for the purpose of affording, but to conceal from theenemy the strength of the corps encamped at this spot.

  The house of the Indian Alcade, somewhat larger and more comfortablybuilt than the rest, was selected by the General as headquarters. Thishouse stood in the centre of the pueblo; from its azotea the countrycould be surveyed for a great distance, and no movement in Galvestonroads escaped notice. The Texans could not stir without beingimmediately discovered and signaled by the sentry, whom the General wascareful to place in this improvised observatory.

  At sunset all the preliminary preparations were finished, and the ranchorendered safe against a coup de main. About seven in the evening theGeneral, after listening to the report of the spies, was sitting infront of the house in the shadow of a magnificent magnolia, whosegraceful branches crossed above his head. He was smoking a papillo,while conversing with several of his officers, when an aide-de-camp cameup and told him that the person who had come to him that morning fromthe rebels, earnestly requested the favour of a few minutes'conversation. The General gave an angry start, and was about to refuse,when Colonel Melendez interposed, representing to the General that hecould not do so without breaking his word, which he had himself pledgedin the morning.

  "As it is so," the General said, "let him come."

  "Why," the Colonel continued, "refuse to listen to the propositions thisman is authorized to offer you?"

  "What good is it at this moment? There is always a time to do so ifcircumstances compel it. Now our situation is excellent; we have not toaccept proposals, but, on the contrary, are in a position to imposethose that may suit us."

  These words were uttered in a tone that compelled the Colonel tosilence; he bowed respectfully, and withdrew softly from the circle ofofficers. At the same moment John Davis arrived, led by theaide-de-camp. The American's face was gloomy and frowning; he salutedthe General by raising his hand to his hat, but did not remove it; thenhe drew himself up haughtily and crossed his hands on his chest. TheGeneral regarded him for a moment with repressed curiosity.

  "What do you want?" he asked him.

  "The fulfilment of your promise," Davis replied drily.

  "I do not understand you."

  "What do you say? When you made me a prisoner this morning, in contemptof the military code and the laws of nations, did you not tell me thatso soon as we reached the mainland, the liberty you had deprived me ofby an unworthy abuse of strength, would be immediately restored to me?"

  "I did say so," the General answered meekly.

  "Well, I demand the fulfilment of that promise; I ought to have leftyour camp long ago."

  "Did you not tell me that you were deputed to me by the rebel army, inorder to submit certain propositions?"

  "Yes, but you refused to hear me."

  "Because the moment was not favourable for such a communication.Imperious duties prevented me then giving your words all the attentionthat they doubtless deserve."

  "Well, and now?"

  "Now I am ready to listen to you."

  The American looked at the officers that surrounded him.

  "Before all these persons?" he asked.

  "Why not? These Caballeros belong to the staff of my army, they
are asinterested as I am in this interview."

  "Perhaps so: still, I would observe, General, that it would be betterfor our discussion to be private."

  "I am the sole judge, Senor, of the propriety of my actions. If itplease you to be silent, be so; if not, speak, I am listening."

  "There is one thing I wish to settle first."

  "What is it?"

  "Do you regard me as an envoy, or merely as your prisoner?"

  "Why this question, whose purport I do not understand?"

  "Pardon me, General," he said with an ironical smile, "but youunderstand me perfectly well, and so do these Caballeros--if a prisoner,you have the right to force silence upon me; as a deputy, on the otherhand, I enjoy certain immunities, under, the protection of which I canspeak frankly and clearly, and no one can bid me be silent, so long as Ido not go beyond the limits of my mission. That is the reason why I wishfirst to settle my position with you."

  "Your position has not changed to my knowledge. You are an envoy ofrebels."

  "Oh, you recognise it now?"

  "I always did so."

  "Why did you make me a prisoner, then?"

  "You are shifting the question. I explained to you a moment ago, forwhat reason I was, to my great regret, compelled to defer our interviewtill a more favourable moment, that is all."

  "Very good, I am willing to admit it. Be kind enough, General, to readthis letter," he added, as he drew from his pocket a large envelope,which, at a sign from the General, he handed to him.

  Night had fallen some time before, and two soldiers brought up torchesof acote-wood, which one of the aides-de-camp lit. The General openedthe letter and read it attentively, by the ruddy light of the torches.When he had finished reading, he folded up the letter again pensively,and thrust it into the breast of his uniform. There was a moment'ssilence, which the General at last broke.

  "Who is the man who gave you this letter?"

  "Did you not read his signature?"

  "He may have employed a go-between."

  "With me, that is not necessary."

  "Then, he is here?"

  "I have not to tell you who sent me, but merely discuss with you theproposals contained in the letter."

  The General gave a passionate start.

  "Reply, Senor, to the questions I do you the honour of asking you," hesaid, "if you do not wish to have reasons for repenting."

  "What is the use of threatening me, General? You will learn nothing fromme," he answered firmly.

  "As it is so, listen to me attentively, and carefully weigh your answer,before opening your mouth to give it."

  "Speak, General."

  "This moment,--you understand, this moment, Senor, you will confess tome, where the man is who gave you this letter, if not--"

  "Well?" the American nominally interrupted.

  "Within ten minutes you will be hanging from a branch of that tree,close to you."

  Davis gave him a disdainful glance.

  "On my soul," he said ironically, "you Mexicans have a strange way oftreating envoys."

  "I do not recognise the right of a scoundrel, who is outlawed for hiscrimes, and whose head is justly forfeited, to send me envoys, and treatwith me on an equal footing."

  "The man whom you seek in vain to brand, General, is a man of heart, asyou know better than anybody else. But gratitude is as offensive to youas it is to all haughty minds, and you cannot forgive the person to whomwe allude, for having saved, not only your life, but also your honour."

  John Davis might have gone on speaking much longer, for the General, whowas as pale as a corpse, and whose features were contracted by aterrible emotion he sought in vain to master, seemed incapable ofuttering a syllable. Colonel Melendez had quietly approached the circle.For some minutes he had listened to the words the speakers interchanged,with gradually augmenting passion; judging it necessary, therefore, tointerpose ere matters had reached such a point as rendered any hope ofconciliation impossible, he said to John Davis, as he laid his hand onhis shoulder:

  "Silence! You are under the lion's claw, take care that it does not rendyou."

  "Under the tiger's claw you mean, Colonel Melendez," he exclaimed, withmuch animation. "What! Shall I listen calmly to an insult offered thenoblest heart, the greatest man, the most devoted and sincere patriot,and not attempt to defend him and confound his calumniator? Come,Colonel, that would be cowardice, and you know me well enough to feelassured that no consideration of personal safety would force me to doso."

  "Enough," the General interrupted him, in a loud voice, "that man isright; under the influence of painful reminiscences I uttered words thatI sincerely regret. I should wish them forgotten."

  John Davis bowed courteously.

  "General," he said, respectfully, "I thank you for this retraction; Iexpected nothing less from your sense of honour."

  The General made no answer; he walked rapidly up and down, sufferingfrom a violent agitation.

  The officers, astonished at this strange scene, which they did not atall understand, looked restlessly at each other, though not venturing toexpress their surprise otherwise. The General walked up to John Davisand stopped in front of him.

  "Master Davis," he said to him, in a harsh and snapping voice, "you area stout-hearted and rough-spoken man. Enough of this; return to the manwho sent you, and tell him this: 'General Don Jose Maria Rubio will notconsent to enter into any relations with you; he hates you personally,and only wishes to meet you sword in hand. No political question will bediscussed between you and him until you have consented to give him thesatisfaction he demands.' Engrave these words well in your memory,Senor, in order to repeat them exactly to the said person."

  "I will repeat them exactly."

  "Very good. Now, begone, we have nothing more to say to each other.Colonel Melendez, be good enough to give this Caballero a horse, andaccompany him to the outposts."

  "One word more, General."

  "Speak."

  "In what way shall I bring you the person's answer?"

  "Bring it yourself, if you are not afraid to enter my camp a secondtime."

  "You are well aware that I fear nothing, General. I will bring you theanswer."

  "I wish it; good-bye."

  "Farewell," the American answered.

  And bowing to the company, he withdrew, accompanied by the Colonel.

  "You played a dangerous game," the latter said, when they had gone a fewsteps; "the General might very easily have had you hung."

  The American shrugged his shoulders.

  "He would not have dared," he said, disdainfully.

  "Oh, oh! and why not, if you please?"

  "How does that concern you, Colonel; am I not free?"

  "You are."

  "That must be sufficient for you, and prove to you that I am notmistaken."

  The Colonel led the American to his quarters, and asked him to walk infor a moment, while a horse was being got ready.

  "Master Davis," he said to him, "be good enough to select from thoseweapons, whose excellence I guarantee, such as best suit you."

  "Why so?" he remarked.

  "Confound it! you are going to travel by night; you do not know whom youmay meet. I fancy that under such circumstances it is prudent to takecertain precautions."

  The two men exchanged a glance; they understood each other.

  "That is true," the American said, carelessly; "now that I come to thinkof it, the roads are not safe. As you permit me, I will take thesepistols, this rifle, machete, and knife."

  "As you please, but pray take some ammunition as well; without that yourfirearms would be of no service."

  "By Jove! Colonel, you think of everything, you are really an excellentfellow," he added, while carelessly loading his rifle and pistols, andfastening to his belt a powder flask and bullet pouch.

  "You overwhelm me, Master Davis; I am only doing now what you would doin my place."

  "Agreed. But you display a graciousness which confuses me."
br />   "A truce, if you please, to further compliments. Here is your horse,which my assistant is bringing up."

  "But he is leading a second; do you intend to accompany me beyond theadvanced posts?"

  "Oh, only for a few yards, if my company does not seem to you toowearisome."

  "Oh, Colonel, I shall always be delighted to have you for a companion."

  All these remarks were made with an accent Of excessive courtesy, inwhich, however, could be traced an almost imperceptible tinge of fun andbiting raillery. The two men left the house and mounted their horses.The night was limpid and clear; millions of stars sparkled in the sky,which seemed studded with diamonds; the moon spread afar its white andfantastic light; the mysterious night breeze bowed the tufted crests ofthe trees, and softly rippled the silvery waters of the Rio Trinidad, asthey died away amorously on the bank.

  The two men walked side by side, passing without being challenged by thesentinels, who, at a signal from the Colonel, respectfully stepped back.They soon descended the hill, passed the main guard, and foundthemselves in the open country. Each of them yielded to the voluptuouscalmness of nature, and seemed no longer to be thinking of his comrade.They proceeded thus for more than an hour, and reached a spot where twopaths, in crossing, formed a species of fork, in the centre of whichstood a cross of evil omen, probably erected in memory of a murderformerly committed at this solitary spot.

  As if by common accord, the two horses stopped and thrust out theirheads, while laying back their ears and snorting loudly. Suddenlyaroused from their reveries and recalled to actual life, the two ridersdrew themselves up in the saddle, and bent a scrutinising glance around.No human sound disturbed the silence; all around was calm and desertedas in the first days of creation.

  "Do you intend, my dear Colonel," the American asked, "to honour me withyour charming society any longer?"

  "No," the young man answered, bluntly; "I shall stop here."

  "Ah!" John Davis continued, with feigned disappointment, "shall we partalready?"

  "Oh no," the Colonel answered, "not yet."

  "In spite of the extreme pleasure I should feel in remaining longer inyour company, I am obliged to continue my journey."

  "Oh, you will surely grant me a few moments, Master Davis?" the othersaid, with an emphasis on each syllable.

  "Well, a few moments, but no more; for I have a long distance to go, andwhatever pleasure I feel in conversing with you--"

  "You alone," the Colonel interrupted him, "shall decide the time weshall remain together."

  "It is impossible to display greater courtesy."

  "Master Davis," the Colonel said, raising his voice, "have you forgottenthe last conversation we had together?"

  "My dear Colonel, you must know me well enough to be sure that I onlyforget those things which I ought not to remember."

  "Which means?"

  "That I perfectly well remember the conversation to which you allude."

  "All the better. In that case your excellent memory spares me half thetrouble, and we shall soon come to an understanding."

  "I believe so."

  "Do you not find the spot where we are admirably adapted for what wehave to do?"

  "I consider it delicious, my dear Colonel."

  "Then, with your consent, we will dismount?"

  "At your orders; there is nothing I detest so much as a lengthenedconversation on horseback."

  They leaped to the ground and tied up their horses.

  "Do you take your rifle?" the American inquired.

  "Yes, if you have no objection."

  "Not at all. Then we are going to see some sport?"

  "Oh yes, but on this occasion the game will be human."

  "Which will add greatly to the interest of the sport."

  "Come, you are a delightful comrade, Master Davis."

  "What would you, Colonel? I never was able to refuse my friendsanything."

  "Where shall we place ourselves?"

  "I trust to you entirely for that."

  "Look! On each side the road are bushes, which seem to have grown forthe express purpose."

  "That is really singular. Well, we will each hide behind one of thebushes, count ten, and then fire."

  "First-rate; but suppose we miss? I am perfectly well aware that we areboth first-rate marksmen, and that is almost impossible; but it mighthappen."

  "In that case nothing is more simple: we will draw our machetes andcharge each other."

  "Agreed. Stay, one word more; one of us must remain on the ground, Isuppose?"

  "I should think so. If not, what would be the use of fighting?"

  "That is true; so promise me one thing."

  "What is it?"

  "The survivor will throw the body into the river."

  "Hum! Then you are very desirous that I should not come to life again?"

  "Well, you can understand--"

  "All right, that is agreed."

  "Thank you."

  The two men bowed, and then went off in opposite directions, to take uptheir stations. The distance between them was about seventy yards; in afew seconds a double detonation burst forth like a clap of thunder, andwoke up the echoes. The two adversaries then rushed on each other,machete in hand. They met nearly half way, and not uttering a word,attacked each other furiously.

  The combat lasted a long time, and threatened to continue longer,without any marked advantage for either of the champions, for they werenearly of equal strength, when all at once several men appeared, and,aiming at the two adversaries, ordered them to lay down their armsimmediately. Each fell back a step, and waited.

  "Stop!" the man shouted, who seemed to be the Chief of the newcomers;"do you, John Davis, mount your horse and be off!"

  "By what right do you give me that order?" the American asked, savagely.

  "By the right of the stronger," the leader replied. "Be off, if you donot wish a misfortune to happen to you!"

  John Davis looked around him. Any resistance was impossible--for whatcould he have done alone, merely armed with a sabre, against twentyindividuals? The American stifled an oath, and mounted again, butsuddenly reflecting, he asked, "And who may you be, who thus pretend todictate to me?"

  "You wish to know?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I am a man to whom you and Colonel Melendez offered an atrociousinsult. I am the Monk Antonio!"

  At this name the two adversaries felt a thrill of terror run throughtheir veins; without doubt the monk was about to avenge himself, nowthat in his turn he had them in his power.