Part 22 (1/2)
To explain this unexpected metamorphosis, it will be necessary to enter into some details, continuing the history of the student from the time when we left him on a fevered couch in the hacienda of Las Palmas, till that hour when we find him in the marquee of the insurgent general.
It may be stated, in advance, however, that the extraordinary transformation which we have noticed, was entirely owing to a new act of parsimonious economy upon the part of Don Cornelio's father, conducting him into a series of perilous mishaps and desperate dangers, to which his adventure with the jaguars and rattlesnakes, while suspended between the two tamarinds, was nothing more, according to the simile of Sancho Panza, than ”_tortus y pan pintado_” (couleur de rose). To proceed, then, with the promised details.
On recovering from his temporary illness, the student travelled on to the dwelling of his uncle. He had been mounted in a more becoming manner, on a fine young horse, which Don Mariano--who owned some thousands of the like--had presented to him.
Having sounded the dispositions of the uncle, according to instructions, he made all haste in returning to his father's house; which he reached in less than half the time he had employed upon his previous journey.
Too soon, perhaps; for, had he been delayed, as before, two months upon the route, he might have escaped the series of frightful perils through which he was afterwards compelled to pa.s.s.
Before setting out on his mission to the bachelor uncle, he had finished his preliminary studies for the ecclesiastical calling; and it only remained for him to return to the college, and present his thesis before the faculty of examiners, to take out his orders. For this purpose it was necessary he should repair to Valladolid, where the university was.
To make the journey, his father now provided him with an old she-mule of a most unamiable disposition, which he had obtained in exchange for the young horse--the gift of Don Mariano--with a goodly number of dollars in ”boot.”
Thus mounted, the student started on his new journey--carrying with him the paternal blessing, and a long chapter of instructions, as to how he should manage his mule, and keep himself clear of all meddling with insurrectionary matters.
After journeying for two days along the route to Valladolid, he had arrived within sight of the straggling huts that compose the little _pueblita_ of Caracuaro, when three hors.e.m.e.n appeared upon the road in front, and riding towards him.
The student was at the moment occupied in pa.s.sing through his mind the rudiments of his theological education--which he had gained from a crowd of books; and which, with some uneasiness, he found had been well nigh driven out of his head by his late adventures in the South.
Just at that moment, when he was paying not the slightest attention to his mule, the skittish animal, frightened by the approach of the hors.e.m.e.n, threw up her hind quarters, and pitched her rider upon the road. As the latter fell, his head came in contact with a large stone, and with such violence as to deprive him of consciousness.
On coming to his senses again, he found himself seated against the bank of the causeway, his head badly bruised, and above all without his mule.
The animal, profiting by the opportunity when the three hors.e.m.e.n had alighted to look after her spilt rider, had headed about, and taken the back track at full gallop!
Of the three hors.e.m.e.n, one appeared to be the master, and the other two his attendants.
”My son!” said the first, addressing the student, ”your situation, without being dangerous, is nevertheless sufficiently serious. You will stand in need of that which you cannot obtain in the poor village of Caracuaro, which is, moreover, nearly two leagues distant. The best thing you can do is to mount behind one of my attendants, and ride back with us to the hacienda of San Diego, which we shall reach in an hour.
Your mule has taken that direction; and I shall have her caught for you by the _vaqueros_ of the hacienda. You will need a day or two of repose, which you can there obtain. Afterwards you can resume your route. Where were you going?”
”To Valladolid,” replied Lantejas. ”I was on my way to the University, to enter into holy orders.”
”Indeed! then we are of the same robe,” rejoined the horseman with a smile. ”I myself am the unworthy curate of Caracuaro--Don Jose Maria Morelos--a name, I presume, you have never heard before.”
In truth the afterwards ill.u.s.trious Morelos was at this time entirely unknown to fame, and of course Don Cornelio had never heard his name.
The student was no little astonished at the appearance of the man who had thus announced himself as the _cura_ of Caracuaro. For one of the clerical calling his costume was altogether singular--to say nothing of its being rather shabby. A double-barrelled gun, with one barrel broken, hung from his saddle-bow, and an old rusty sabre in a common leathern scabbard dangled against his horse's side.
The two domestics were still more plainly attired; and each carried in his hand a huge bra.s.s blunderbuss!
”And you, Senor padre?” inquired the student in turn. ”Where are you going, may I ask?”
”I? Well,” replied the _cura_, smiling as he spoke, ”just as I have told you--to the hacienda of San Diego. After that to Acapulco--to capture the town and citadel in obedience to an order I have received.”
Such were at this time the equipment and warlike resources of the general, whose name afterwards obtained such heroic renown!
His response caused the candidate for holy orders to open his eyes to the widest. He fancied that in the confusion of his head he had not clearly comprehended the meaning of the _cura's_ speech; and he preferred this fancy to the alternative of supposing that the worthy priest of Caracuaro was himself suffering from mental aberration.
”What! you an insurgent?” inquired Lantejas, not without some apprehension.
”Very true. I am, and have been for a long time.”