Part 32 (1/2)
The speaker, a man of ferocious and brutal aspect, here made a gesture of fearful meaning, as an appropriate finish to his speech.
”Don Mariano would not have permitted it,” rejoined the other, by way of excusing himself for having been the cause of the dragoon officer's escape. ”Once under his roof, he would never have consented to our molesting him.”
”Bah!” exclaimed the first speaker. ”It's past the time when we require to ask Don Mariano's permission. We are no longer his servants. The time is come when the servants shall be the masters, and the masters the servants, _Carajo_! What care I for the emanc.i.p.ation of the country?
What I care for is blood and plunder.”
The fierce joy that blazed in the eyes of the speaker as he p.r.o.nounced the last words, told too plainly that these were his veritable sentiments.
The second of the two brigands who, though smaller in size and of a more astute expression of countenance, was equally characterised by an aspect of brutal ferocity--for a moment appeared to quail before the indignation of his companion.
”_Carajo_!” continued the first, ”we have got to s.h.i.+ft our quarters. If that furious captain finds out that _we_ are here, he will set fire to the four corners of the hacienda, and roast us alive in it. Fool that I was to listen to you!”
”Who could have foreseen that he would get off so?” said the lesser man, still endeavouring to excuse himself.
”You, _Carrai_!” thundered the bandit; and overcome by rage and chagrin at the escape of his mortal enemy, he drew his poignard, and struck a left-handed blow at the bosom of his a.s.sociate. The latter severely wounded, uttering a cry of pain, fell heavily from his horse.
Without staying to see whether or not he had killed his comrade, the guerillero dashed through the gate of the hacienda; and, dismounting in the courtyard, ran, carbine in hand, up the stone stairway that led to the _azotea_.
Meanwhile Don Rafael and his five hors.e.m.e.n were ascending the hill that sloped up from the rear of the building.
”_Santos Dios_! it is very strange!” remarked one of the troopers to a companion. ”It's the general belief that Arroyo and Bocardo have quitted the province, but if I'm not mistaken--”
”It was they, to a certainty,” interrupted the second trooper. ”I know them well, only I didn't wish to tell our captain. He is so furious against these two fellows, that if he had only known it was they who attacked us, we should not have had much chance of being permitted to retreat as we have done.”
The man had scarce finished speaking when the report of a carbine, fired from the roof of the hacienda, reverberated along the ridge, and the trooper fell mortally wounded from his saddle.
A bitter smile curled upon the lips of Don Rafael, and a sharp pang shot through his heart, as he compared the adieu he was now receiving from the inhabitants of the hacienda, with that which had accompanied his departure but two months before.
The fatal bullet had struck that very trooper who had judged it prudent to conceal from his officer the names of his a.s.sailants.
”'Tis Arroyo who has fired the shot!” involuntarily exclaimed the other, who also believed that he had recognised the insurgent.
”Arroyo!” exclaimed the captain, in a tone of angry surprise; ”Arroyo within that hacienda, and you have not told me!” added he, in a furious voice, while his moustachios appeared to crisp with rage.
The trooper was for the moment in great danger of almost as rude treatment as Arroyo had just given his a.s.sociate. Don Rafael restrained himself, however; and, without waiting to reflect on consequences, he ordered one of his followers--the best mounted of them--to proceed at once to the hacienda Del Valle, and bring fifty men well armed, with a piece of cannon by which the gate of Las Palmas might be broken open.
The messenger departed at a gallop, while Don Rafael and his three remaining troopers, screening themselves behind the crest of the ridge, sat in their saddles silently awaiting his return.
It was long before Don Rafael's blood began to cool; and in proportion as it did so, he experienced a degree of sorrow for the act of hostility he was about to undertake against the father of Gertrudis.
A violent contest commenced within his breast, between two opposing sentiments of nearly equal strength. Whether he persisted in his resolution, or retreated from it, both courses seemed equally criminal.
The voice of duty, and that of pa.s.sion, spoke equally loud. To which should he listen?
The struggle, long and violent, between these antagonistic sentiments, had not yet terminated, when the detachment arrived upon the ground.
This decided him. It was too late to retire from his first determination. On towards the hacienda! Don Rafael drew his sword, and, placing himself at the head of his troop, rode down the hill. The bugle sounding the ”advance,” warned the inhabitants of the hacienda that a detachment of cavalry was crossing the ridge.
A few minutes after, the squadron halted before the great gate, at a little distance from the walls. A horseman advanced in front of the line, and once more having sounded the bugle, in the name of Don Rafael Tres-Villas, Captain of the Royalist army, summoned Don Mariano de Silva to deliver up, dead or alive, the insurgents, Arroyo and Bocardo.