CHAPTER XXIII
ON THE ROAD.
All the scruples of the Mother Superior--honourable scruples, let ushasten to add--having thus been removed, one after the other, by Mr.Rallier, by means of the double orders he had been careful to providehimself with, the next thing was to see about getting the two boardersaway without further day.
The abbess, who understood the importance of a speedy conclusion,left her visitors in the parlour, and, in order to avoid anymisunderstanding, herself undertook to fetch the two young ladies, aftergiving a lay sister orders to call the carriage into the first courtyard.
In a religious community, one of women before all--we do not meanthis satirically--whatever may be done, and whatever precautions maybe taken, nothing can long be kept a secret. Hence, the two gentlemenhad scarcely entered the speaking room of the abbess ere the rumour ofthe departure of Dona Anita and Dona Helena spread among the nuns withextreme rapidity. Who spread the news no one could have told, and yeteverybody spoke about it as a certainty.
The young ladies were naturally the first informed. At the outset theiranxiety was great, and Dona Anita trembled, for she believed thatshe was fetched by order of her guardian, and that the monk speakingwith the abbess was the one sent by the general to make immediatepreparations for her marriage. Hence, when the abbess entered DonaHelena's cell, she found the pair in each other's arms, and weepingbitterly.
Fortunately, the mistake was soon cleared up, and the sorrow convertedinto joy when the abbess, who, through sympathy, wept as much asher boarders, explained that of the two strangers, whom they fearedso greatly, one was the brother of Dona Helena, and the other theFranciscan monk whom Dona Anita had already seen, and that they hadcome, not to add to her sufferings, but to remove her from the tyrannythat oppressed her.
Dona Helena, on hearing that her brother was at the convent, boundedwith joy, and removed her friend's last doubts, for, like all unhappypersons. Dona Anita clung greedily to this new hope of salvation, whichwas thus allowed to germinate in her heart at a moment when she believedthat she had no chance left of escaping her evil destiny.
The abbess then urged them to complete their preparations for departure,helped them to change their dress, and, after embracing them severaltimes, conducted them to the parlour.
In order to avoid any disturbance when the young ladies left theconvent, where everybody adored them, the abbess had the good idea ofsending the nuns to their cells. It was a very prudent measure, which,by preventing leave-taking, also prevented any noisy manifestations ofcries and tears, the sound of which might have been heard outside, andhave fallen on hostile ears.
The leave-taking was short, for there was no time to lose in vaincompliments. The young ladies drew down their veils, and proceeded tothe courtyard under the guidance of the abbess. The carriage had beendrawn as close as possible to the cloisters, and the court was entirelydeserted, only the abbess, the sister porter, and a confidential nunwitnessing the departure.
As the Frenchman opened the door of the carriage, a piece of paper lyingon the seat caught his eyes. He seized it without being seen, and hid itin the hollow of his hand. After kissing the good abbess for the lasttime, the young ladies took the back seat, and Don Martial the front, asdid Mr. Rallier, after previously whispering to the coachman, that is,to Curumilla, two Indian words, to which he replied by a sinister grin.Then, at a signal from the abbess, the convent gates were opened, andthe carriage started at full speed, drawn by six powerful mules.
The crowd silently made room for it to pass, the gates closed againimmediately, and the carriage almost immediately disappeared round thecorner of the next street.
It was about seven o'clock in the morning. The fugitives--for we cangive them no other name--galloped in silence for the first ten orfifteen minutes, when the Frenchman gently touched his companion'sshoulder, and offered him the paper he had found in the carriage.
"Read!" he said.
The paper only contained two words, hurriedly written in pencil--
"Take care."
"Oh, oh," the Tigrero exclaimed, turning pale, "what does this mean?"
"By Jove," the Frenchman answered cautiously, "it means that in spite ofour precautions, or perhaps on account of them, for in these confoundedaffairs a man never knows how to act in order to deceive the persons hefears, we are discovered, and probably have spies at our heels."
"Caray! and what will become of the young ladies in the event of adispute?"
"In the event of a fight you mean, for there will be an obstinate one,I foretell. Well, we will defend them as well as we can."
"I know that; but suppose we are killed?"
"Ah! there is that chance; but I never think of that till after theevent."
"Oh heaven!" Dona Anita murmured, as she hid her head in her friend'sbosom.
"Re-assure yourself, senorita," the Frenchman continued, "and, aboveall, be silent, for the sound of your voice might be recognized, andchange into certainty what may still be only a suspicion. Besides,remember that if you have enemies, you have also friends, since theytook the precaution to warn us. Now, in all probability, this unknownofferer of advice will not have stopped there, but thought of the meansto come to our assistance in the most effectual manner."
The carriage went along in the meanwhile at a breakneck pace, and hadnearly reached the city gates. We will now tell what had happened, andhow the Frenchman was warned of the danger that threatened him.
General Don Sebastian Guerrero had organized a band of spies composedof leperos and scoundrels, who, however, possessed acknowledgedcleverness and skill, and if Valentine had escaped their surveillanceand foiled their machinations, it was solely through the habits whichhe had contracted during a lengthened life in the prairies, and whichhad become an intuition with him, so far did he carry the quality ofscenting and unmasking an enemy, whatever might be the countenance heborrowed. But if he had not been recognized, it was not the same withhis friends, and the latter had not been able long to escape the lynxeyes of the general's spies.
The Convent of the Bernardines had naturally become for some days pastthe centre of the surveillance, as it were the spying headquarters, ofDon Sebastian's agents. The arrival of a carriage with closed blindsat the convent at once gave the alarm; and though Mr. Rallier was notpersonally known, the fact of his being a Frenchman was sufficient torouse suspicions.
While the Frenchman and the monk were conversing in the parlour with theabbess, a lepero pretended to hurt himself, and was conveyed by two ofhis acolytes to the convent gate, and the good hearted porter had notrefused him admission, but, on the contrary, had eagerly given him allthe assistance his condition seemed to require.
While the lepero was gradually regaining his senses, his comrades askedquestions with that captious skill peculiar to their Mexican nature.The sister porter was a worthy woman, endowed with a very small stockof brains, and fond of talking. On finding this opportunity to indulgein her favourite employment, she was easily led on, and, almost of herown accord, told all she knew, not suspecting the harm she did. Let ushasten to add that this all was very little; but, being understood andcommented on by intelligent men interested in discovering the truth, itwas extremely serious.
When the three leperos had drawn all they could out of the sisterporter, they hastened to leave the convent. Just as they emerged intothe street, they found themselves face to face with No Carnero, thegeneral's capataz, whom his master had sent on a tour of discovery. Theyran up to him, and in a few words told him what had happened.
This was grave, and the capataz trembled inwardly at the revelation, forhe understood the terrible danger by which his friends were menaced. ButCarnero was a clever man, and at once made up his mind to his course ofaction.
He greatly praised the leperos for the skill they had displayed indiscovering the secret, put some piastres into their hands, and sentthem off to the general, with the recommendation, which was mostunnecessary, to make all possible speed. Then, in his t
urn, he beganprowling round the convent, and especially the carriage, which Curumillamade no difficulty in letting him approach, for the reader willdoubtless have guessed that the animosity the Indian had on severaloccasions evinced for the capataz was pretended, and that they wereperfectly good friends when nobody could see or hear them.
The capataz skilfully profited by the confusion created in the crowd bythe carriage entering the convent, to throw in, unperceived, the paperMr. Rallier had found. Certain now that his friends would be on theirguard, he went off in his turn, after recommending the spies he leftbefore the convent to keep up a good watch, and walked in the directionof the Plaza Mayor smoking a cigarette.
At the corner of the Calle de Plateros he saw a man standing in front ofa pulqueria, engaged in smoking an enormous cigar. The capataz enteredthe pulqueria, drank a glass of Catalonian refino, but while paying, heclumsily let fall a piastre which rolled to the foot of the man standingin the doorway. The latter stooped, picked up the coin, and restored itto its owner, and the capataz walked out, doubtless satisfied with thequality of the spirit he had imbibed, and cautiously continued his way.On reaching the plaza again, the man of the pulqueria, who was probablygoing the same road as himself, was at his heels.
"Belhumeur?" the capataz asked in a low voice, without turning round.
"Eh?" the other answered in the same key.
"The general knows the affair at the convent; if you do not make haste,Don Martial, Don Antonio, and the two ladies will be attacked on theroad while going to the quinta; warn your friend, for there is not amoment to lose. Devil take the cigarette!" he added, throwing it away,"it has gone out."
When he turned back, Belhumeur had disappeared; the Canadian withhis characteristic agility was already running in the direction ofValentine's house. As for the capataz, as he was in no particular hurry,he quietly walked back to the general's, where he found his master in afurious passion with all his people, and more particularly with himself.
By an accident, too portentous not to have been arranged beforehand, notone of his horses could be mounted; three were foundered, four othershad been bled, and the last three were without shoes. In the midst ofthis the capataz arrived with a look of alarm, which only heightened hismaster's passion. Carnero prudently allowed the general's fury to grow alittle calm, and then answered him.
He proved to him in the first place that he would commit a serious actof imprudence by himself starting in pursuit of the fugitives in thepresent state of affairs, and especially on the eve of a pronunciamientowhich was about to decide his fortunes. Then he remarked to him thatsix peons, commanded by a resolute man, would be sufficient to conquertwo men probably badly armed, and, in addition, shut up in a carriagewith two ladies, whom they would not expose to the risk of being killed.These reasons being good, the general listened and yielded to them.
"Very good," he said; "Carnero, you are one of my oldest servants, andto you I entrust the duty of bringing back my niece."
The capataz made a wry face.
"There will be probably plenty of blows to receive, and very littleprofit to derive from such an expedition."
"I believed that you were devoted to me," the general remarked bitterly.
"Your excellency is not mistaken; I am truly devoted to you, but I havealso a fondness for my skin."
"I will give you twenty-five ounces for every slit it receives; is thatenough?"
"Come, I see that your excellency wishes me to be cut into mincemeat!"the capataz exclaimed joyously.
"Then that is agreed?"
"I should think so, excellency; at that price a man would be a fool torefuse."
"But about horses?"
"We have at least ten or a dozen in the corral."
"That is true; I did not think of that," the general exclaimed, strikinghis forehead; "have seven lassoed at once."
"Where must I take the senorita?"
"Bring her to this house, for she shall not set foot in the conventagain."
"Very good; when shall I start, general?"
"At once, if it be possible."
"In twenty minutes I shall have left the house."
But the general's impatience was so great that he accompanied hiscapataz to the corral, watched all the preparations for the departure,and did not return to his apartments till he was certain that Carnerohad started in pursuit of the fugitives, with the peons he had selected.
In the meanwhile the carriage dashed along; it passed at full gallopthrough the San Lazaro gate, then turned suddenly to the right, andentered a somewhat narrow street. At about the middle of this street itstopped before a house of rather modest appearance, the gate of whichat once opened, and a man came out holding the bridles of two prairiemustangs completely harnessed, and with a rifle at each saddle-bow. TheFrenchman got out, and invited his companion to follow his example.
"Resume your usual dress," he said, as he led him inside the house.
The Tigrero obeyed with an eager start of joy. While he doffed his gown,his companion mounted, after saying to the young ladies--
"Whatever happens, not a word--not a cry; keep the shutters up; we willgallop at the door, and remember your lives are in peril."
Martial at this moment came out of the house attired as a caballero.
"To horse, and let us be off," said Mr. Rallier.
The Tigrero bounded onto the mustang held in readiness for him, andthe carriage, in which the mules had been changed, started again atfull speed. The house at which they had stopped was the one hired byValentine to keep his stud at.
Half an hour thus passed, and the carriage disappeared in the thickcloud of dust it raised as it dashed along. Don Martial felt new born;the excitement had restored his old ardour as if by enchantment;he longed to be face to face with his foe, and at length come to asettlement with him. The Frenchman was calmer; though brave to rashness,it was with secret anxiety he foresaw the probability of a fight, inwhich his sister might be wounded; still he was resolved, in the eventof the worst, to confront the danger, no matter the number of men whoventured to attack them.
All at once the Indian uttered a cry. The two men looked back, and sawa body of men coming up at full speed. At this moment the carriage wasfollowing a road bounded on one side by a rather thick chaparral, on theother by a deep ravine.
At a sign from the Frenchman the carriage was drawn across the road, andthe ladies got out; went, under Curumilla's protection, to seek shelterbehind the trees. The two men, with their rifles to their shouldersand fingers on the triggers, stood firmly in the middle of the road,awaiting the onset of their adversaries, for, in all probability, thenewcomers were enemies.