CHAPTER XVII.
A DIPLOMATIC CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO RASCALS.
The two men looked at one another for some minutes in silence, just astwo clever duelists might have done before venturing on the attack. Butthough each tried to read the other, their faces were like marble.
At a mute invitation from the outlaw, the stranger took a seat, and atonce commenced the conversation.
"Sir," he said, "it is a matter of surprise, that you, a perfectstranger, should address me by a name--"
"Which is or has once been yours, monsieur," answered the outlaw chief,with freezing politeness.
"That is quite possible. I do not deny it. When one travels in foreignparts on important business, incognito--"
"Is adopted, I am aware, which only deceives fools and dupes," said theoutlaw, speaking slowly.
"What do you mean, sir?" cried the other.
"I recollect a certain Count de Mas d'Azyr, an excellent gentleman ofLanguedoc, who had this mania."
The stranger shivered all over, and a lightning flash darted frombeneath his dark and heavy eyebrows.
"Well," continued the outlaw, with imperturbable sang-froid, "his noblemanners so thoroughly denounced him, despite the plebeian names hechose to assume, that he was compelled at the end of a few minutes togive up this absurd acting."
"Really, sir," cried the stranger, "I do not see the meaning orrelevance of your allusions."
"I permit myself no allusions," said the outlaw, with the utmostsuavity. "Very far from it. What matters it to me, I ask, whether youcall yourself Hebrard, Count de Mas d'Azyr, Philippe de Salnam, JeanLerou, or take any other alias?"
"Sir!" cried the other.
"Allow me, I pray, to conclude. In you I only recognise a person whois very warmly recommended to me, who has need of my services, and atwhose disposition I therefore place myself at once--ready to serve himif possible," he continued; "at all events we can talk, and I should beglad to know in what way I can be of use."
"Sir," said the stranger, smiling, "you are agreeable and witty. I findthat people make mistakes in their idea of you."
"I am obliged by your high consideration," continued the outlaw; "stillthis does not explain to me--"
"Who I am," cried the other, with feigned candour; "well, sir,considering you have mentioned so many names--"
"You allow, then, that I was right."
"Certainly; you were quite right," answered the other, quickly; "Itherefore sincerely beg your pardon."
"It is not at all necessary."
"There is, however, one thing that I must confess puzzles me verymuch," continued the envoy.
"May I, without offence, ask what that is?"
"No offence. I should certainly be only too glad to have an explanationwith you on the subject."
"If it depends upon me," the other said.
"It depends absolutely on you. I always thought I had a good memory. Ibelieve myself to be a very good physiognomist, but really I have norecollection of you."
The outlaw burst into a roar of laughter.
"Which only proves," he added, when he recovered himself, "that I ammuch more clever at incognito than you."
"Which means--"
"That not only have we met, monsieur, but that we have carried on along connection," said Tom.
"Many years ago?"
"Not at all, sir. I speak of very recent times, though I will allowthat our acquaintance commenced long ago."
"You astonish me," said the Frenchman.
"The matter is very easily explained. We have found ourselves connectedat different times, under four different names: I have told you yours,I will now tell mine. Do you remember Louis Querehard? Do you recollectFrancois Magnaud, Paul Sambrun, and Pedro Lopez?"
"Perfectly," cried the other.
"Well, sir, those four individuals you now see present under the nameof Tom Mitchell, your very humble servant; though," he added, withexquisite politeness, yet with a tint of irony, "I have several othersavailable on occasion."
"Well, sir," cried the stranger, "you have indeed taken me in. I was afool not to recognise you."
"Sir!" cried the outlaw.
"Let us call things by their names. It is by far the best plan. I amindeed not to be forgiven for being taken in like any novice. I deserveto be dismissed from the service of the Government which employs me,and which believes me to be worthy of credit, as possessing a certainamount of wit and diplomatic ability. Well, it is useless to discussthe matter any longer. Give me your hand, sir," he cried; "you are mymaster. We bear no malice."
"I only wanted to prove--" said the outlaw.
"That I was a fool--and I must say you have done so to my entiresatisfaction," he added, in a tone of complete good humour. "Buthowever unpleasant the shock is to my self-love, I am delighted at whathas happened."
"How so?" asked the outlaw, in the same tone.
"Because the ice is broken between us, and we can come to anunderstanding; the more readily," he added, "that the matters I haveto speak of are the same as before."
"If that be so," said the outlaw, "we can easily come to terms."
"Is it not so? Now here is the affair in two words. The revolutionis over in France. Beneath the hand of the mighty man of geniuswhose talent and patriotism have raised him to power, Government hasrecovered its strength, society begins to breathe, the nation is oncemore rising to its proper position amidst the people; New France hasentire faith in the man whose every step has hitherto been marked byvictory, which has definitively declared on his side."
"I presume," said the outlaw, quietly, "that you are speaking of theGeneral Bonaparte."
"Of no other. This great, this extraordinary man has, with his mightyhand, put down the Jacobins and the mob, driving them back to theiroriginal nothingness. He has chained forever the awful hydra ofrevolution. You have, then, heard of him?"
"Most certainly," said the son of Maillard, coldly.
"I am glad to hear it. This great man, who is as mighty a politicianas he is a successful general, has followed, while slightly modifyingit, the line traced by the national convention of execrable memory withregard to the Spanish colonies."
"Sir," said the son of the regicide, "you are hard upon fallen men,upon vanquished enemies, who, if they were guilty of faults--of crimesif you will--did very great and glorious things, giving the firstsignal for social regeneration over the world."
"It is useless, sir," said the envoy, "to discuss that matter. Myconvictions are very strong."
"Well, sir, if that be so," replied the outlaw, "let us return to theGeneral Bonaparte, and pray explain to me his new plans with regard tothe Spanish possessions in America."
"They are no new plans," observed the envoy; "only the old onesmodified to a certain extent."
"Modified in what way?"
"There are two capital points. In the first place he wishes a cordialand frank alliance with the President of the United States, whocordially approves the policy of the French Government, which will, inthe end, be to the advantage of America. Then he has given extensivepowers to numerous sure and accredited agents, who, though, are notopenly known because of the temporary Franco-Spanish alliance. Largesums of money have been provided by means of which to overthrow thatspecies of Chinese wall with which Spain has surrounded its frontiers,which none ever cross and return."
"Sir," said the outlaw, with a smile, "I have crossed them many a timeand oft, and yet here I am."
"It is precisely because of that fact that I am here."
"Ah! Ah!" said the outlaw, with a laugh; "After all, despite yourdenials, you had seen through my incognito."
"Well, it is useless to deny it. I have long known you to be a man ofheart and action. I also know that by means of your vast connectionsno one can more readily help us to revolutionise the colonies. Besides,you are a Frenchman."
"I am of no country," replied the other.
"What, then, do you call yourself?"
"An outlaw," a
nswered the chief, "and king of this island," drily; "anoutlaw, and nothing more."
"Well, be it so, sir. Still you are exactly the man I want. Ihave need, for the execution of my plans, for the carrying out ofmy projects, of a man who is bound by no locality, by no socialconsideration. In fact, an outlaw."
The other bowed ironically.
"Now are you disposed to be the man?"
"First," said Tom Mitchell, "let me know what you want of me. I willthen give a decisive answer."
"Well, then," replied the envoy, "let us put diplomacy on one side, andspeak frankly and openly."
The outlaw leaned back and assumed something like the attitude of atiger about to spring.
"Sir," he said, with a most singular smile, "I was about to make thevery same proposition."
"Very good," replied Monsieur Hebrard; "that shows that we arebeginning to understand one another."
The captain bowed, without speaking.
"The Spanish colonies," continued M. Hebrard, "are already beginningto feel the germs of revolutionary fermentation. Some devoted andenterprising men, yourself among others, have gone into the cities andtowns of Mexico."
"All this I know; a truce to flattery."
"They have seen the zealous patriots, who are, however, but illprepared as yet for the revolution we ardently desire."
"Ill prepared indeed," cried Tom Mitchell.
"But overtopping all others is a man who has immense influence with theIndian races. You know him."
"Ah, ah!" exclaimed Tom; "You mean Dolores, the priest."
"I mean no other. He is the only man upon whom we can count. We mustenter into serious relations with him."
"For what purpose?" asked the outlaw.
"In order that when the hour comes he may be ready to raise thestandard of revolt," cried the other, "and ready to draw the populationafter him against Spanish despotism."
"Very good, sir. But it is a long way to Dolores, where lives the cureHidalgo. The road is one of the most dangerous I know. I doubt if anyagent, however clever, can reach him. Will you allow me to give yousincere advice?"
"Speak; I am deeply interested."
"My own opinion is that it would be much better to despatch a lightvessel, schooner or brig, into the Gulf of Mexico. This vesselcould cruise along the coast, and, when opportunity offered, land aconfidential agent."
"You are quite right, sir," said the envoy, "I must say this means hasbeen tried with success."
"Well, what then?"
"The secret was betrayed by a traitor; in consequence, the Spanishauthorities are always on their guard."
"Hence you conclude--"
"That on reflection, and having experience as a guide, the difficultroad you describe is the best."
"Hum!" said the outlaw, and relapsed into silence.
The real meaning, the interesting point, of this conversation, so long,had not been touched upon. The captain knew it well, and kept himselfin reserve. M. Hebrard was for some time afraid to enter upon a frankand true explanation.
There was a deep silence; at last the captain determined to fire thetrain, if he were blown up.
"Then you think I must go by land," he said.
"There is no choice," responded Hebrard.
"The conditions?" remarked Tom.
"One hundred thousand francs, not in notes, but in golden ounces,stamped with the effigy of the King of Spain."
"That is tolerable, for a beginning."
"Then there will be as much more for the negotiations, or, as I see youhesitate, at first one hundred and fifty thousand."
"Why at first?" asked Tom.
"Because your mission will be divided into two distinct parts," repliedthe envoy, quietly.
"Let us thoroughly understand the first," continued the outlaw; "wewill talk of the second presently."
"Another hundred thousand on your return with despatches," continuedthe diplomatist, warmly.
"Hum!" said Tom; "That makes--"
"Three hundred and fifty thousand francs (L14,000) for only the firstpart of your mission," said Hebrard.
"It is very liberal. Now for the second mission," said Tom Mitchell,watching the diplomatist with his wary eye.
He knew that the real thing was coming now; he was satisfied of thisfrom the other's uneasy manner.
"Hum!" said M. Hebrard, as if speaking to himself; "Three hundred andfifty thousand francs is a pretty sum."
"Well, for the first part of the mission which you have explained tome I don't say no. It is," he added, "a tough job, that I know. Still,nothing risk, nothing have. Now for the second part."
The diplomatist assumed an air of genial frankness that made the outlawshudder. He was at once on his guard.
"The Spaniards, as I have said," observed M. Hebrard, jauntily, "areforever on the watch. No one, no matter what his position, is safe onthe frontiers. To go in or out is simply impossible."
"Diable!" cried Tom; "What you say is not calculated to give me muchconfidence or hope."
"Excuse me, monsieur," said Hebrard, "we are playing a frank and opengame, I do not desire in any way to conceal the dangers that may awaityou. I am only speaking in a general kind of way, certain that whateverobstacles occur you will be right."
All this was verbiage; M. Hebrard was evidently only trying some methodof putting his real thoughts into words.
The outlaw, who expected what was coming, smiled.
"Unfortunately," said the diplomatist, who did not know what to say,"the real danger is not on the other side."
The outlaw started up.
"You may well be surprised; the danger is here."
"What do you mean?" cried the outlaw.
"I will explain myself, if you will allow me. Of course," said M.Hebrard, "the Spaniards are no more fools than we are."
"I was always of that opinion."
"They have started a countermine!"
"A countermine!" cried Tom. "What do you mean?"
"You will soon see. Knowing something of our designs, they have coveredthe American frontiers with spies."
"It is certainly very clever," said the outlaw.
"Very clever," said the diplomatist, in a husky voice; "but then,clever as they are, we know all about it, every detail."
"You do not mean to say so?" cried Tom Mitchell.
"Yes. And more than that, we know the chief of the whole gang ofspies," added Hebrard. "And much more than that, we know all hissecrets, cunning as he is."
"That is something," said Tom; "but now what you want is to catch him."
"Yes," said Hebrard, "that is the very thing; you yourself must see thenecessity of catching him before you start."
"I should think so; it is as plain as running water; but," added TomMitchell, "it is not very easy to snap up such a rascal in the desert,which simply is as full of such rogues and vagabonds as an anthill isfull of ants."
"Don't be uneasy on that point," cried Hebrard; "I shall easily put youon his track."
"All right. Then all we have to do is to catch him?"
"Exactly so," said the other, with a sigh.
"And you will pay for this capture?"
"Very heavily, my excellent friend."
"Oh! Oh! Then you are very anxious to secure him?"
"Yes," continued the other, gloomily; "dead or alive; it matters not. Ishould say, for information's sake, dead rather than alive."
"I like plain speaking. He is very much in your way?"
"Very much more than I can explain."
"And how much will you pay for this mission?"
"Alive, twenty-five thousand; dead, fifty thousand francs."
"It appears to me you prefer him dead. But never mind, give me theinformation. His name and address."
"He is a Frenchman, who has taken the name of Oliver. In appearancehe is a hunter, a trapper, anything that comes uppermost. For greatersafety he has connected himself with an Indian tribe, and is to befound about the Missouri."
"It is a
very long way from the Mexican frontiers," observed theoutlaw, in a coldly sarcastic voice.
"True. But the fellow is cunning; his safety requires him to beextremely cautious. Do you accept?"
"I accept on one condition," replied the other. "It is fully understoodthat he is to be dead, mind."
"No matter, so that we have him."
"Well, then, we are agreed on four hundred thousand francs (L16,000)? Ishall want half down."
"I have the money in gold in my valises. I will pay it to you thisevening," replied the envoy.
"And now that this is settled, you are in no hurry?"
"None whatever."
"Well, I know pretty well where to find the man you are in search of. Imust say that, without suspecting the odious part he has been playing,I have on the several occasions we have met him felt the greatestrepulsion."
"This is extraordinary."
"Well, you see, on the desert everybody knows everybody. But as Iwish to make no mistake, to commit no error in so grave and importanta matter, I should like you to be present at his arrest. Besides, itwould be more regular."
"Hum!" cried the other, with a look of considerable annoyance; "Theidea of further voyage in the desert--"
"Is not pleasant, I know," interrupted Tom; "but that is not necessary.You shall remain quietly here."
"Then I consent. When do you expect to catch him?"
"In less than a week, unless I am very unfortunate."
"Then I can wholly depend on you?" cried Hebrard.
"I swear to you on my honour that it will not be my fault if at the endof the time you are not face to face."
"I thank you in advance," said the envoy.
"There is nothing to be grateful for," replied the outlaw, with an oddexpression and smile.