Part 12 (1/2)

It was with difficulty I could restrain myself; for, looking in the direction indicated by the lieutenant, I saw a bright object, which I at once recognised as the major's face.

He had drawn aside the broad plantain-leaves, and was peering cautiously through, with a look of the most ludicrous terror. His face only was visible, round and luminous, like the full moon; and, like her, too, variegated with light and shade, for fear had produced spots of white and purple over the surface of his capacious cheeks.

As soon as the major saw how the ”land lay”, he came blowing and bl.u.s.tering through the bushes like an elephant; and it now became apparent that he carried his long sabre drawn and nouris.h.i.+ng.

”Bad luck, after all!” said he as he marched round the pond with a bold stride. ”That's all--is it?” he continued, pointing to the dead cayman.

”Bah! I was in hopes we'd have a brush with the yellow-skins.”

”No, Major,” said I, trying to look serious, ”we are not so fortunate.”

”I have no doubt, however,” said Clayley with a malicious wink, ”but that we'll have them here in a squirrel's jump. They must have heard the report of our guns.”

A complete change became visible in the major's bearing. The point of his sabre dropped slowly to the ground, and the blue and white spots began to array themselves afresh on his great red cheeks.

”Don't you think, Captain,” said he, ”we've gone far enough into the cursed country? There's no mules in it--I can certify there's not--not a single mule. Had we not better return to camp?”

Before I could reply, an object appeared that drew our attention, and heightened the mosaic upon the major's cheeks.

A man, strangely attired, was seen running down the slope towards the spot where we were standing.

”Guerillas, by Jove!” exclaimed Clayley, in a voice of feigned terror; and he pointed to the scarlet sash which was twisted around the man's waist.

The major looked round for some object where he might shelter himself in case of a skirmish. He was sidling behind a high point of the parapet, when the stranger rushed forward, and, throwing both arms about his neck, poured forth a perfect cataract of Spanish, in which the word _gracias_ (thanks) was of frequent occurrence.

”What does the man mean with his _grashes_?” exclaimed the major, struggling to free himself from the Mexican.

But the latter did not hear him, for his eyes at that moment rested upon my dripping habiliments; and dropping the major, he transferred his embrace and _gracias_ to me.

”Senor Capitan,” he said, still speaking in Spanish, and hugging me like a bear, ”accept my thanks. Ah, sir! you have saved my children; how can I show you my grat.i.tude?”

Here followed a mult.i.tude of those complimentary expressions peculiar to the language of Cervantes, which ended by his offering me his house and all it contained.

I bowed in acknowledgment of his courtesy, apologising for being so ill prepared to receive his ”hug”, as I observed that my saturated vestments had wet the old fellow to the skin.

I had now time to examine the stranger, who was a tall, thin, sallow old gentleman, with a face at once Spanish and intelligent. His hair was white and short, while a moustache, somewhat grizzled, shaded his lips.

Jet-black brows projected over a pair of keen and sparkling eyes. His dress was a roundabout of the finest white linen, with waistcoat and pantaloons of the same material--the latter fastened round the waist by a scarf of bright red silk. Shoes of green morocco covered his small feet, while a broad Guayaquil hat shaded his face from the sun.

Though his costume was transatlantic--speaking in reference to Old Spain--there was that in his air and manner that bespoke him a true hidalgo.

After a moment's observation I proceeded, in my best Spanish, to express my regret for the fright which the young ladies--his daughters, I presumed--had suffered.

The Mexican looked at me with a slight appearance of surprise.

”Why, Senor Capitan,” said he, ”your accent!--you are a foreigner?”

”A foreigner! To Mexico, did you mean?”

”Yes, Senor. Is it not so?”