Part 33 (1/2)
”One moment!” shouted Don Mariano, presenting himself at the window, where he could command a view of the plain below; ”I have two words to say to your captain: where is he?”
”Here!” responded Don Rafael, riding a pace or two in front.
”Ah! pardon,” said the haciendado, with a bitter smile; ”I have hitherto known Captain Tres-Villas only as a friend. I could not recognise him in the man who threatens with ruin the house where he has been a guest.”
At this imprudent speech--whose irony Don Mariano had not been able to conceal--the face of the Captain, hitherto deadly pale, became red.
”And I,” he replied, ”can only recognise in you the promoter of an impious insurrection, which I have striven to crush, and the master of a mansion of which brigands are the guests. You have understood my summons? They must be delivered up.”
”In any case,” rejoined the haciendado, ”I should not have betrayed those I had promised to protect. As it is, however, I am not left to my own choice in this matter; and I am charged to say to you, on the part of those whom you pursue, that they will poignard my two daughters and myself before suffering themselves to fall into your hands. Our lives depend on them, Captain Tres-Villas. It is for you to say, whether you still persist in your demand, that they be delivered up to you.”
The irony had completely disappeared from the speech and countenance of the haciendado, and his last words were p.r.o.nounced with a sad but firm dignity, that went to the heart of Don Rafael.
A cloud came over it at the thought of Gertrudis falling under the daggers of the guerilleros, whom he knew to be capable of executing their threat; and it was almost with a feeling of relief that he perceived this means of escaping from a duty, whose fulfilment he had hitherto regarded as imperious.
”Well, then,” said he, after a short silence, and in a tone that bespoke the abandonment of his resolution, ”say to the brigand, who is called Arroyo, that he has nothing to fear, if he will only show himself. I pledge my solemn word to this. I do not mean to grant him pardon--only that reprieve which humanity claims for him.”
”Oh! I don't require your solemn word,” cried the bandit, impudently presenting himself by the side of Don Mariano. ”Inside here I have two hostages, that will answer for my life better than your word. You wish me to show myself. What want you with me, Senor Captain?”
With the veins of his forehead swollen almost to bursting, his lip quivering with rage, and his eyes on fire, Don Rafael looked upon the a.s.sa.s.sin of his father--the man whom he had so long vainly pursued--the brigand, in fine, whom he could seize in a moment, and yet was compelled to let escape. No wonder that it cost him an effort to subdue the impetuous pa.s.sions that were struggling in his breast.
Involuntarily his hand closed upon the reins of his bridle, and his spurs pressed against the flanks of his horse, till the animal, tormented by the touch, reared upwards, and bounded forward almost to the walls of the hacienda.
One might have fancied that his rider intended to clear the obstacle that separated him from his cowardly enemy--who, on his part, could not restrain himself from making a gesture of affright.
”That which I wish of the brigand Arroyo,” at length responded the Captain, ”is to fix his features in my memory, so that I may know them again, when I pursue him, to drag his living body after the heels of my horse.”
”If it is to promise me only such favours that you have called me out--”
said the bandit, making a motion to re-enter the chamber.
”Stay--hear me!” cried Don Rafael, interrupting him with a gesture; ”your life is safe. I have said it. Humanity has compelled me to spare you.”
”_Carrambo_! I am grateful, Captain; I know the act is to your taste.”
”Grat.i.tude from you would be an insult; but if in the red ditch-water that runs through your heart there be a spark of courage, mount your horse, choose what arms you please, and come forth. I defy you to single combat!”
Don Rafael in p.r.o.nouncing this challenge rose erect in his stirrups.
His countenance, n.o.ble and defiant, presented a strange contrast to the aspect of vulgar ferocity that characterised the features of the man thus addressed. The insult was point blank, and would have aroused the veriest poltroon; but Arroyo possessed only the courage of the vulture.
”Indeed?” responded he, sneeringly. ”Bah! do you suppose me such a fool as to go down there? fifty to one!”
”I pledge my honour, as a gentleman,” continued the captain, ”as an officer, in the presence of his soldiers; as a Christian, in the presence of his G.o.d--that whatever may be the issue of the combat--that is, if I succ.u.mb--no harm shall happen to you.”
For a moment the bandit appeared to hesitate. One might have fancied that he was calculating the chances of an encounter. But the address and valour of the dragoon captain were known to him by too many proofs, to allow him to reckon many chances in his favour. He dared not risk the combat.
”I refuse,” he said, at length.
”Mount your horse. I shall abandon mine, and fight you on foot.”