CHAPTER VIII.
THE DARK-HEARTS.
As we have seen, the people had dispersed almost immediately after theexecution of the patriots. Everyone carried away in the depths of hisheart the hope of avenging, at an early day, the victims who had sonobly died, with the cry for a time left without an echo, of Viva lapatria! A cry checked by the bayonets of the soldiers of Bustamente, butwhich must soon give birth to fresh martyrs.
And yet the square, though it seemed a desert, was not so. Severalmen, folded in dark cloaks, and with broad-brimmed hats, pulled downover their eyes, were grouped in the recess of the coach entrance of ahouse, and were conversing earnestly together in a low voice, keeping ananxious look-out the meanwhile. These men were patriots.
In spite of the terror which hovered over the city, they had, by dint ofprayers, obtained from the archbishop of Santiago, who was a true priestaccording to the gospel, and at heart devoted to the liberal cause,permission to pay the last rites to their unfortunate brethren.
No part of the dismal drama which followed the execution had escapedthem. They had seen Don Tadeo rise like a phantom from the heap ofcarcasses which covered him; they had heard the words he had pronounced,and were preparing to go to his succour, when the two strangers,appearing suddenly, raised his body and bore it away. This carrying offof a half dead man had surprised them exceedingly. After exchanging afew words, two of them went in pursuit of the mysterious strangers,probably in order to learn to what house the wounded man was taken,whilst the others, twelve in number, advanced to the middle of thesquare.
They anxiously bent down and examined the bodies stretched at theirfeet, hoping, perhaps, that another victim might have escaped theslaughter. Unfortunately, Don Tadeo was the only one saved by someinexplicable mystery. The nine other victims were all dead. After a longexamination, the patriots stood up again with a painful sigh of regret,and one of them went and knocked at a lower door of the cathedral.
"Who is there?" was immediately asked from the interior.
"_One for whom the night hath no darkness_," the man who had knockedreplied.
"What do you want?" the voice asked again.
"_Is it not written: Knock and it shall be opened to thee_?" thestranger added.
"_Our country!_" said the voice.
"_Or vengeance!_" the man promptly replied.
The door opened, and a monk appeared. His cowl pulled down over hisface, prevented his features being seen.
"Well," he said, "what do the _Dark-Hearts_ require?"
"A prayer for their murdered brothers."
"Return to those who sent you; they shall be satisfied."
"Thanks for all!" the unknown replied; and, after bowing respectfully tothe monk, he rejoined his companions. During his absence they had notbeen idle, but had placed the bodies upon hand barrows concealed underthe arcades of the place.
At the expiration of a few minutes a brilliant light inundated theplace; the cathedral doors were opened. The interior was seen to besplendidly illuminated, and from the principal door issued a longprocession of monks, each bearing a wax light in his hand; they chanted,as they walked, the service of the dead. At the same moment the gatesof the government palace were thrown open as if by enchantment, and asquadron of the Ceras, with General Bustamente at their head, advanced,at a trot, towards the procession.
When the monks and soldiers met, they stopped as of one accord. Thetwelve unknown men, folded in their cloaks, and grouped round thefountain which forms the centre of the square, anxiously awaited thedenouement of the scene about to take place.
"What is the meaning of this procession, at such an unusual hour?" thegeneral haughtily demanded.
"It means that we have come," the monk who walked first replied, with afirm voice, but in a melancholy tone, "to take up the victims you havestruck down, and give them honourable burial."
"And who, pray, are you?" the general asked, sharply.
"I?" the monk replied, in the same firm tone, and throwing back hiscowl upon his shoulders--"I am the archbishop of Santiago, primate ofChili, invested by his holiness the Pope with the power of binding andunbinding on earth."
In Spanish America, all persons yield without hesitation to the religionof Christ. The only power that is real is that of the priests. No one,however high he may be placed, ventures to struggle against it: he knowsbeforehand that, if he did, he would be sure to be crushed. The generalknitted his brows, struck his forehead forcibly with his hand, but wasconstrained to admit himself conquered.
"My lord!" he said, with a bow; "pardon me! In these times of civildiscord, we often, in spite of ourselves, confound our friends with ourenemies. I was ignorant that your lordship had given orders for prayersto be offered up for these criminals, and still more so that you woulddeign to perform this task in person--I beg leave to retire."
During this scene, the patriots had concealed themselves behind thepillars of the place, where, thanks to the darkness, they remainedunseen by the general. As soon as the military had disappeared, at asign from the archbishop the bodies were borne into the cathedral.
"Beware of that man, my lord," whispered one of the unknown in thearchbishop's ear; "he darted at you the glance of a tiger as he retired."
"Brother!" the priest replied calmly; "I am prepared for martyrdom."
The service commenced. As soon as it was terminated, the patriotsretired, after warmly thanking the archbishop for his kindness towardstheir dead brethren. Scarce had they proceeded a few steps along anarrow street, edged by mean dwellings, when two men rose from behind anoverturned cart which concealed them, and coming towards them, said in alow voice--
"Our country!"
"Vengeance!" one of the unknown replied. "Come on!"
The two men approached.
"Well!" said he who appeared to be the chief. "What have you learnt?"
"All that it is possible to know," one of the newcomers replied.
"Whither have they transported Don Tadeo?"
"To the mansion of the Linda."
"To the residence of his wife! Of the woman who is now the mistressof the General Bustamente!" the chief replied anxiously. "By the holyVirgin! my comrades, he is lost, for she hates him mortally. Shall weallow him to be assassinated without an effort to save him?"
"That would be base cowardice," they replied unanimously.
"But how can we introduce ourselves into the house?"
"Nothing more easy; the garden walls are very low."
"Come on, then! there is not a minute to be lost!"
Without another word, they all hastened off in the direction of theLinda's house, which, as we have said, was situated in the faubourgof the Canadilla, the handsomest quarter in Santiago. The windows,hermetically closed, did not allow one ray of light to pass; not asound could be heard, and the house seemed deserted. The patriots stolesilently round the walls, and when they reached the back, they easilyclimbed the fence by sticking their poniards between the bricks, andsprang into the garden. Here they looked carefully about them, and,after a short pause, proceeded with stealthy steps towards a pale,trembling light, which sent a feeble beam through the chink of ashutter. They were within a few paces of this window, when they suddenlyheard the noise of what appeared a scuffle, and a terrible cry wasuttered, mingled with the crash of furniture and imprecations of rageand pain. Bounding forward like panthers, the strangers, who had coveredtheir faces with masks of black velvet, dashed at the window, which flewin a thousand fragments around them, and entered the salon.
And it was time for them to arrive. Don Tadeo, with a stool, had splitthe head of one of the bandits, who lay lifeless upon the floor; butthe other had got him down, and, with his knee upon his breast, was onthe point of stabbing him. With a pistol shot, one of the unknown blewout his brains, and the wretch rolled in his agony close to his deadcompanion. Don Tadeo sprang up quickly, exclaiming--
"By the Virgin! I thought my hour was come!" Then, turning towards themasked men, he said--"Thanks, c
aballeros! thanks for your very timelysuccour! One minute more, and it would have been all over with me! TheLinda is expeditious!"
The courtesan, with features contracted by rage, and clenched teeth,looked on without appearing to see, overwhelmed, confounded by the scenewhich had so rapidly taken place, and which had, in a few minutes,ravished from her the vengeance which she thought had this time been socertain.
"Without bearing malice, madam," said Don Tadeo in a jeering tone, "thisis a match deferred. Your fertile imagination will no doubt soon furnishyou with the means of taking your revenge!"
"I hope so," she said with a sardonic smile.
"Seize this woman," the leader of the unknown commanded; "gag her, andbind her securely to the bed."
"Bind me!" she cried in a paroxysm of anger; "me! do you know who I am?"
"Perfectly well, madam," the stranger replied drily. "You are a womanfor whom honourable people have no name. Libertines have given you thatof the Linda, and your present lover is General Bustamente. You see,madam, that we are not unacquainted with you."
"Beware, sir," she hissed; "I am not to be insulted with impunity."
"We do not insult you, madam; we only wish, for a time, to put it outof your power to do mischief. In a few days," he continued, in a quiet,firm tone, "we will determine what shall be done with you."
"Done with me!--me!--who then are you, with faces you dare not reveal,and who presume to speak to me thus?"
"Who we are,--learn!--We are the _Dark-Hearts!_" At this terribleannouncement, a convulsive trembling shook the limbs of the woman, who,retreating to the wall, a prey to intense terror, exclaimed in a faintvoice; "My God! my God! I am lost," and sank down fainting.
At a sign from the leader, one of his companions bound her securely, andafter gagging her, fastened her to the foot of the bed. Then, taking DonTadeo with them, they departed by the same way they had entered, withouttaking any heed of the two assassins lying upon the floor. Before heleft the room, the chief pinned a piece of parchment to a table witha dagger. Upon this parchment were written a few words of terribleimport:--
"_The traitor Pancho Bustamente is cited at the expiration ofninety-three days!"_
THE DARK-HEARTS.