Читать книгу The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life - Aimard Gustave, Gustave Aimard, Jules Berlioz d'Auriac - Страница 5

Four days had passed since the events recorded in our last chapter. Count Ludovic de la Saulay and Oliver were still riding side by side, but the place of the scene had completely changed.

All around them extended an immense plain covered with a luxuriant vegetation, intersected by a few water courses, on the banks of which were huddled the humble cabins of several unimportant pueblos; numerous flocks browsed here and there, watched by mounted vaqueros, bearing the reata on the saddle, a machete at their side, and a long lance in its rest. Along a road, whose windings formed a yellow track on the green carpet of the plain, appeared like black dots, teams of mules hurrying toward the snowy mountains, which closed in the horizon in the distance; gigantic clumps of trees diversified the landscape, and a little to the right, on the top of a rather high hill, proudly rose the massive walls of an important hacienda.

The two travellers were slowly following the last windings of a narrow track that ran down with a gentle slope to the plain; the curtains of trees which masqued the view suddenly falling back on the right and left, the landscape appeared suddenly to rise before them, as if it had been created by the magic wand of a mighty enchanter.

The Count stopped and burst into a cry of admiration at the sight of the magnificent kaleidoscope which was displayed before them.

"Ah, ah," said Oliver, "I was aware that you were an amateur, and it was a surprise I prepared for you; how do you like it?"

"It is admirable; I never saw anything so beautiful," the young man exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Yes," the adventurer resumed with a stifled sigh, "it is very fair for a country spoilt by the hand of man. As I have told you several times, it is only in the savannahs of the great Mexican desert that it is possible to see nature as God has made it; this is only theatrical scenery in comparison; a conventional landscape which signifies nothing."

The Count smiled at this sally.

"Whether conventional or not, I consider this view admirable."

"Yes, yes, I repeat, it is a very fair success. Think how lovely this landscape must have been in the early days of the world, since, in spite of all their clumsy efforts, men have not succeeded in entirely spoiling it."

The young man's laughter was redoubled at these words.

"On my faith," he said, "you are a charming companion, Mr. Oliver; and when I part from you, I shall often regret your agreeable company."

"In that case get ready to regret me, my lord," he replied with a smile, "for we have only a few minutes left to pass together."

"How so?"

"An hour at the most; but let us continue our journey. The sun is beginning to grow hot, and the shadow of the trees down there will be very agreeable to us."

They loosened their horses' bridles, and slowly went down the almost insensible incline which would lead them to the plain.

"Are you not beginning to feel the want of a rest after your fatigue, my lord?" the adventurer asked, as he carelessly rolled a cigarette.

"Really no, thanks to you; this journey has seemed to me delightful, although slightly monotonous."

"How monotonous?"

"Well, in France frightful stories are told about countries beyond the sea, where bandits are found in ambush every step you take, and you cannot go ten leagues without risking your life twenty times; hence it is with some degree of apprehension that we land on these shores. I had my head stuffed with stories to make one's hair stand on end. I was prepared for surprises, ambushes, desperate fights, and all that sort of thing. Well, after all, I have made the most prosaic journey in the world, without the slightest accident which I could narrate hereafter."

"You are not yet out of Mexico."

"That is true; but my illusions are destroyed. I no longer believe in Mexican bandits or ferocious Indians; it is not worth the while to come so far to see nothing more than is to be seen in this country. Confound travelling! Four days ago I believed that we were going to have an adventure; while you left me alone I formed tremendous plans of battle, and then at the end of two long hours of absence, you returned with a smiling face to announce to me that you were mistaken, and that you had seen nothing, and I was obliged to dismiss all my warlike intentions. This is really having ill luck."

"What would you have?" the adventurer replied, with an accent of almost imperceptible irony; "Civilization is so gaining on us, that we nowaday resemble the peoples of the old world, with the exception of a few slight shades."

"Laugh away, make fun of me, I give you full liberty to do so; but let us return to our subject, if you please."

"I wish nothing more, my lord. Did you not say among other things, while talking with me, that you intended to go to the Hacienda del Arenal, and that if you did not turn from the road instead of pushing straight on to Mexico, it was because you were afraid of losing yourself in a country which you do not know, and of not meeting persons capable of putting you on the right track again?"

"I did say so, sir."

"Oh! Since that is the case, the question is becoming extraordinarily simplified."

"How so?"

"Look before you, my lord. What do you see?"

"A magnificent building that resembles a fortress."

"Well, that building is the Hacienda del Arenal." The Count uttered a cry of astonishment.

"Can it be possible? You are not deceiving me?" he asked.

"For what purpose?" the adventurer said gently.

"Why! In this way the surprise is even more charming than I at first supposed it."

"Ah! By the bye. I forgot one circumstance, which, however is of some importance to you; your servants and all your baggage have been at the hacienda for the last two days."

"But how were my servants informed?"

"I warned them."

"You have hardly left me."

"That is true, only for a few minutes, but that was sufficient."

"You are an amiable companion, Mr. Oliver, I thank you sincerely for all your attentions to me."

"Nonsense, you are joking."

"Do you know the owner of this hacienda?"

"Don Andrés de la Cruz? Very well."

"What sort of man is he?"

"Morally or physically?"

"Morally."

"A true hearted and intelligent man, he does a great deal of good, and is accessible to the poor as well as the rich."

"Hum! You are drawing a magnificent portrait."

"It is below the truth; he has a great many enemies."

"Enemies?"

"Yes, all the scoundrels in the country, and thanks to God, they swarm in this blessed country."

"And his daughter, Dolores?"

"Is a delicious girl of sixteen, even better hearted than she is beautiful, innocent and pure; her eyes reflect heaven, she is an angel whom God has allowed to descend on earth, doubtless to shame human beings."

"You will accompany me to the hacienda, sir, I suppose?" said the Count.

"No, I shall not see Señor don Andrés; in a few minutes I shall have the honour of taking leave of you."

"To meet again soon, I hope!"

"I dare not promise it you, my lord."

They rode on silently, side by side, for a few moments longer.

They had hurried on their horses, and were now rapidly nearing the hacienda, whose buildings now appeared in their full extent.

It was one of those magnificent residences built in the earliest times of the conquest, half palace, half fortress, such as the Spaniards erected at that day on their estates, in order to hold the Indians in check, and resist their attacks during the numerous revolts which left a bloody stain on the first years of the European invasion.

The almanas, or battlements that crowned the walls, testified to the nobility of the owner of the hacienda; as gentlemen alone possessed the right of placing battlements on their mansions, and were very jealous of their right.

The dome of the hacienda chapel which rose above the walls, could be seen glistening in the ardent sunbeams.

The nearer the travellers approached, the more lively the landscape appeared; at each instant they met horsemen, arrieros with their mules. Indians running with burdens hanging on their back by a thong passed round their forehead. Then came herds, driven by vaqueros, to change their pasturage, monks trotting on mules, women, children, in a word busy persons of all ranks and sexes, who were coming and going, and crossing each other in all directions.

When they reached the foot of the hill crowned by the hacienda, the adventurer stopped his horse at the moment when it was entering the path that led to the main gate of the hacienda.

"My lord," he said, turning to the young man, "we have now reached our journey's end; permit me to take my leave of you."

"Not before you have promised to see me again."

"I cannot promise that, Count, as our roads are diametrically opposite. Besides, it will perhaps be better if we never meet again."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing insulting or personal to you; permit me to shake your hand ere we part."

"Oh, most willingly," the young man exclaimed, as he warmly offered him his hand.

"And now farewell – farewell, once again, time flies rapidly, and I ought to have been a long way from here before now."

The adventurer bent over his horse's neck, and darted with the speed of an arrow along a track in which he speedily disappeared.

The Count looked after him as long as it was possible to see him; and when he was hidden by a turn in the road, the young man heaved a sigh.

"What a singular character," he muttered in a low voice. "Oh! I shall see him again, it must be."

The young man lightly gave his horse the spur, and entered the path, which would lead him in a few minutes to the top of the hill, and the principal gate of the hacienda.

The young man dismounted in the first courtyard, and handed his horse to a groom, who led it away.

At the moment when the Count was walking towards a large door surmounted by a verandah, and which gave admission to the apartment, Don Andrés went out, ran eagerly toward him, pressed him warmly to his heart, and embraced him several times, while saying, —

"Heaven be praised! Here you are, at last! We were beginning to be in a mortal anxiety about you."

The Count, thus suddenly taken by surprise, had allowed himself to be seized and embraced without exactly comprehending what was happening to him, or with whom he had to deal; but the old gentleman, perceiving the amazement he felt, and which, in spite of his efforts, he could not succeed in completely concealing, did not leave him long in embarrassment, but stated his name, adding —

"I am your near relative, my dear Count – your cousin; hence, stand on no ceremony – act here as if you were at home: this house, with all it contains, is at your disposal, and belongs to you."

The young man began protesting, but Don Andrés once more interrupted him.

"I am an old fool," he said. "I am keeping you here, listening to my maundering, and forget that you have had a long ride, and must need rest. Come, I wish to have the pleasure of conducting you myself to your apartments, which have been ready for you for some days past."

"My dear cousin," the Count answered; "I thank you a thousand times for your kind attention; but I think it would be only polite for you to introduce me to Doña Dolores, ere I retire."

"There is no hurry for that, my dear Count: my daughter is at this moment shut up in her boudoir with her women. Let me announce you first, for I know better than you what is proper under the circumstances, – and go and rest yourself."

"Very well, my cousin; I will follow you. I will indeed confess, since you are so good as to place me so thoroughly at my ease, that I shall not be at all sorry to take a few hours' rest."

"Did I not know it?" Don Andrés replied, gaily; "But all young people are the same – they doubt nothing."

The hacendero thereupon led his guest to the apartments which had been tastefully prepared and furnished under the immediate inspection of Don Andrés, and were intended to serve as the Count's abode during the whole of the period he might be pleased to spend at the hacienda.

The suite of rooms, though not large, was arranged in a very sensible and comfortable manner, considering the resources of the country.

It consisted of four rooms. The Count's bedroom, with dressing room and bathroom attached, a study, serving as a drawing room, an antechamber, and a room for the Count's valets; so that he might have them within call by day and night.

By means of a few partitions, the suite bad been separated from and rendered entirely independent of the other apartments in the hacienda. It was entered by three doors, one opening on the vestibule, the second into the common court yard, and the third leading by a flight of steps to the magnificent huerta, which, through its extent, might pass for a park.

The Count, newly landed in Mexico, and who, like all foreigners, formed a false idea of a country which he did not know, was far from expecting to find at the Hacienda del Arenal a lodging so convenient, and in such conformity with his rather serious tastes and habits, hence he was really ravished by everything he saw. He warmly thanked Don Andrés for the trouble he had been kind enough to take in rendering his stay in the house agreeable to him, and assured him that he was far from expecting so cordial a reception.

Don Andrés de la Cruz, highly pleased with this compliment, rubbed his hands in glee, and at length withdrew, leaving his relative at liberty to repose, if he thought proper.

When left alone with his valet, the Count, after changing his dress, and assuming another more suitable to the country than the one he was wearing, questioned his servant as to the way in which he had performed the journey from Veracruz, and the reception offered him on his arrival at the hacienda.

This valet was a man of about the same age as the Count, deeply attached to his master, whose foster brother he was; a powerfully-built fellow, tolerably good looking, very brave, and possessing a quality very precious in a servant – that of seeing nothing, hearing nothing, and only speaking when he received an express order to do so, and even then he did it as concisely as possible.

The Count was very fond of him, and placed unbounded confidence in him. His name was Raimbaut, and was a Basque; continually particular about etiquette, and professing a profound respect for his master. He never spoke of him save in the third person, and at whatever hour of the day or night the Count might call him, he never presented himself before him, unless dressed in the strict garb he had adopted, and which was composed of a black coat with a stand-up collar and gold buttons, a black waistcoat, black knee breeches, white silk stockings, buckled shoes, and white cravat. Thus dressed, with the exception of powder, which he did not wear, Raimbaut presented an amazing likeness to the steward of a great nobleman in the last century.

The Count's second servant was a tall lad, twenty years of age, robust and sturdy – godson of Raimbaut, who had undertaken to train him for his duties. He did the heavy work, and wore the Count's livery – blue and silver: his name was Lanca Ibarru. He was devoted to his master, and awfully afraid of his godfather, for whom he professed a profound veneration. He was active, courageous, crafty, and intelligent; but these qualities were slightly tarnished by his gluttony and pronounced taste for the dolce far niente.

Raimbaut's story was a short one. Nothing at all had happened to him, with the exception of the order which a strange man had delivered to him, as from his master, not to continue his journey to Mexico, but to have himself conducted to the Hacienda del Arenal, which order he had obeyed.

The Count recognised the truth of what the adventurer had told him: he dismissed his valet, sat down on a butaca, took up a book, and very shortly after fell fast asleep.

At about four in the afternoon, just as he was waking, Raimbaut entered the room, and announced that Don Andrés de la Cruz was waiting for him to sit down to table, as the hour for the evening meal had arrived.

The Count cast a glance at his toilette, and, preceded by Raimbaut, who acted as his guide, proceeded to the dining room.