The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A STORMY DISCUSSION.

  Shaw was not timid, as we have said--he ought rather be accused of theopposite excess; he was not the man, once his resolution was formed, tolet anything soever turn him from it. His hesitation was not long; hesuddenly rose, and violently stamping his rifle butt on the ground,looked at the two men, while saying in a firm voice,--

  "Be frank, my presence here at this hour astonishes you, and you askyourselves what cause can have brought me."

  "Sir," the monk said, with a certain degree of hesitation renderedhighly natural by the young man's tone.

  "Pardon me," Shaw exclaimed, interrupting him, "the cause you will seekin vain. I will tell you: I have come to deliver Dona Clara."

  "Can it be possible?" the two men exclaimed with stupefaction.

  "It is so; whether you like it or not, I care little. I am the man tohold my own against both of you, and no one can prevent me restoring themaiden to her father, as I have resolved on doing."

  "What do I hear?" said Fray Ambrosio.

  "Hum!" the young man continued quickly, "Believe me, do not attempt anyuseless resistance, for I have resolved, if needs must, to pass overyour bodies to success."

  "But we have not the slightest wish--"

  "Take care," he interrupted him in a voice full of menace and frowning,"I will only leave this house accompanied by her I wish to save."

  "Sir," the monk remarked, in an authoritative voice which momentarilyquelled the young savage, "two words of explanation."

  "Make haste!" he answered, "For I warn you that my patience isexhausted."

  "I do not insist on your listening any length of time. You have comehere, you say, with the intention of delivering Dona Clara?"

  "Yes," he answered impatiently, "and if you attempt to oppose it--"

  "Pardon me," the monk interrupted, "such a determination on your partnaturally surprises us."

  "Why so?" the young man said, raising his head haughtily.

  "Because," Fray Ambrosio answered tranquilly, "You are the son of RedCedar, and it is at least I strange that--"

  "Enough talking," Shaw exclaimed violently; "will you or not give me upher I have come to seek?"

  "I must know, in the first place, what you intend doing with her.

  "How does that concern you?"

  "More than you imagine. Since that girl has been a prisoner Iconstituted myself--if not her guardian, for the dress I wear forbidsthat--her defender; in that quality I have the right of knowing for whatreason you, the son of the man who tore her from her family, have comeso audaciously to demand her surrender to you, and what your object isin acting thus?"

  The young man had listened to those remarks with an impatience thatbecame momentarily more visible; it could be seen that he madesuperhuman efforts to restrain himself. When the monk stopped, he lookedat him for a moment with a strange expression, then walked up so closeas almost to touch him, drew a pair of pistols from his girdle andpointed them at the monk.

  "Surrender Dona Clara to me," he said, in a low and menacing voice.

  Fray Ambrosio had attentively followed all the American's movements, andwhen the latter put the pistol muzzles to his chest, the monk, with anaction rapid as lightning, also drew two pistols from his girdle, andplaced them, on his adversary's chest. There was a moment of supremeexpectation, of indescribable agony; the two men were motionless, faceto face panting, each with his fingers on a trigger, pale, and theirbrows dank with cold perspiration. Andres Garote, his lips curled by anironical smile, and his arms crossed, carelessly leaned against a table,watching this scene which had for him all the attractions of a play.

  All at once the door of the rancho, which had not been fastened againafter the squatter's entry was violently thrown back and a man appeared.It was Father Seraphin. At a glance he judged the position and boldlythrew himself between the foemen, hurling them back, but not uttering aword. The two men recoiled, and lowered their weapons, but continued tomenace each other with their glances.

  "What!" the missionary said in a deep voice, "Have I arrived just intime to prevent a double murder, gentlemen? In Heaven's name, hide thosehomicidal weapons; do not stand opposite each other like wild beastspreparing for a leap."

  "Withdraw, father; you have nothing to do here. Let me treat this man ashe deserves," the squatter answered, casting at the missionary aferocious glance--"his life belongs to me."

  "Young man," the priest replied, "the life of a fellow being belongsonly to God, who has the right to deprive, him of it; lower yourweapons"--and turning to Fray Ambrosio, he said to him in a cuttingvoice, "and you who dishonour the frock you wear, throw away thosepistols which sully your hands--a minister of the altar should notemploy other weapons than the Gospel."

  The monk bowed, and caused his pistols to disappear, saying in a softand cautious voice, "My father, I was compelled to defend my life whichthat maniac assailed. Heaven is my witness that I reprove these violentmeasures, too frequently employed in this unhappy country; but this mancame into the house with threats on his lips; he insisted on ourdelivering a wretched girl whom this caballero," he said, pointing tothe gambusino, "and myself did not think proper to surrender."

  Andres corroborated the monk's words by a nod of the head.

  "I wish to save that young girl from your hands," Shaw said, "andrestore her to her father."

  "Of whom are you speaking, my friend?" the missionary asked with asecret beating of his heart.

  "Of whom should I speak, save Dona Clara de Zarate, whom these villainsretain here by force?"

  "Can it be possible?" Father Seraphin exclaimed in amazement. "DonaClara here?"

  "Ask those men," Shaw answered, roughly, as he angrily struck the buttof his rifle against the ground.

  "Is it true?" the priest inquired.

  "It is," the gambusino answered.

  Father Seraphin frowned, and his pale forehead was covered with febrileruddiness.

  "Sir," he said, in a voice choking with indignation. "I summon you, inthe name of that God whom you serve, and whose minister you lay claim tobeing, to restore at once to liberty the hapless girl whom you have sounworthily imprisoned, in defiance of all laws, human and divine. Iengage to deliver her into the hands of those who bewail her loss."

  Fray Ambrosio bowed; he let his eyes fall, and said in a hypocriticalvoice--

  "Father, you are mistaken as regards myself. I had nothing to do withthe carrying off of that poor child, which on the contrary, I opposed tothe utmost of my power; and that is so true, father," he added, "that atthe moment when this young madman arrived, the worthy gambusino andmyself had resolved, at all risks, on restoring Dona Clara to herfamily."

  "I should wish to believe you, sir; if I am mistaken, as you say, youwill forgive me, for appearances were against you; it only depends onyourself to produce a perfect justification by carrying out my wishes."

  "You shall be satisfied, father," the monk replied. At a signal from himGarote left the room. During the few words interchanged between the twomen, Shaw remained motionless, hesitating, not knowing what he ought todo; but he suddenly made up his mind, threw his rifle over his shoulder,and turned to the missionary.

  "Father," he said respectfully, "my presence is now needless here.Farewell; my departure will prove to you the purity of my intentions."

  And turning suddenly on his heel, he hurried out of the rancho. A fewmoments after his departure the gambusino returned, Dona Clara followinghim.

  Dona Clara no longer wore the dress of the whites, for Red Cedar, inorder to render her unrecognizable, had compelled her to don the Indiangarb, which the maiden wore with an innate grace which heightened itsstrange elegance. Like all Indian squaws, she was attired in two whitechemises of striped calico--the one fastened around the neck, fell tothe hips; while the other, drawn in at the waist, descended to herankles. Her neck was adorned with collars of fine pearls, mingled withthose small shells called wampum, and employed by the Indians as money.H
er arms and ankles were surrounded by wide circles of gold, and a smalldiadem of the same metal relieved the pale tint of her forehead.Moccasins of deer hide, embroidered with wool and beads of every colourimprisoned her small and high-arched feet.

  As she entered the room, a shadow of melancholy and sadness spread overher face, adding, were that possible, a further charm to her person. Onseeing the missionary, Dona Clara uttered a cry of joy, and rushedtoward him, fell into his arms, and murmured in a heart-rending voice:--

  "Father! save me! save me!"

  "Be calm, my daughter!" the priest said to her, gently. "You havenothing more to fear now that I am near you."

  "Come!" she exclaimed, wildly, "Let us fly from this accursed house, inwhich I have suffered so greatly."

  "Yes, my daughter, we will go; set your mind at rest."

  "You see, father," Fray Ambrosio said, hypocritically, "that I did notdeceive you."

  The missionary cast at the monk a glance of undefinable meaning.

  "I trust that you spoke truly," he replied; "the God who gauges heartswill judge you according to works. I will rescue this maiden at once."

  "Do so, father; I am happy to know her under your protection."

  And picking up the cloak which Don Pablo left after blinding Red Cedar,he placed it delicately on the shuddering shoulders of Dona Clara, inorder to conceal her Indian garb. Father Seraphin drew her arm throughhis own, and led her from the rancho. Ere long they disappeared in thedarkness. Fray Ambrosio looked after them as long as he could see them,and then re-entered the room, carefully bolting the door after him.

  "Well," Andres Garote asked him, "what do you think, senor Padre, of allthat has happened?"

  "Perhaps things are better as they are."

  "And Red Cedar?"

  "I undertake to render ourselves as white in his sight as the snows ofthe Caffre de Perote."

  "Hum! it will be difficult."

  "Perhaps so."