The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

  WHAT ARE THEY?

  The repast finished, the Holy Brethren, rising from the table together,forsook the Refectory. Some disappeared into cloisters on the sides ofthe great hallway, others strolled out in front, and seating themselveson benches that were about, commenced rolling and smoking cigarittos.

  The Abbot, excusing himself to his stranger guests, on plea of pressingbusiness, was invisible for a time. So they were permitted to betakethemselves apart. Good manners secured them this. The others naturallysupposed they might want a word in private, so no one offered to intrudeupon them.

  Just what they did want, and had been anxiously longing for. They hadmutually to communicate; questions to be asked, and counsel takentogether. Each was burning to know what the other thought of thecompany they had fallen into; the character of which was alikeperplexing to both.

  After getting hold of their hats they sauntered out by the great door,through which they had entered on the night before. The sun was now atmeridian height, and his beams fell down upon the patch of open groundin front of the monastery, for a monastery they supposed it must be. Aglance backward as they walked out from its walls showed itsarchitecture purely of the conventual style; windows with pointedarches, the larger ones heavy mullioned, and a campanile upon the roof.This, however, without bells, and partially broken down, as was much ofthe outer mason work everywhere. Here and there were walls crumbling todecay, others half-hidden under masses of creeping plants andcryptogams; in short, the whole structure seemed more or lessdilapidated.

  Soon they entered under the shadow of the trees; long-leaved evergreenpines loaded with parasites and epiphytes, among these several speciesof orchids--rare phenomenon in the vegetable world, that would havedelighted the eye of a botanist. As they wished to get beyond earshotof those left lounging by the porch, they continued on along a walkwhich had once been gravelled, but was now overgrown with weeds andgrass. It formed a cool arcade, the thick foliage meeting overhead, andscreening it from the rays of the sun. Following it for about a hundredyards or so, they again had the clear sky before them, and saw they wereon the brow of a steep slope--almost a precipice--which, after trendinga short distance right and left, took a turn back toward the mass of themountain. It was the boundary of the platform on which the buildingstood, with a still higher cliff behind.

  The point they had arrived at was a prominent one, affording view of thewhole valley of Mexico, that lay spread out like a picture at theirfeet. And such a picture! Nothing in all the panoramic world toexcel--if equal it.

  But as scenery was not in their thoughts, they gave it but a glance,sitting down with faces turned towards one another. For there wereseats here also--several rustic chairs under shady trees--it beingevidently a favourite loitering place of the friars.

  "Well, Cris, old comrade," said Kearney, first to speak, "we've gonethrough a good deal this day or two in the way of change. What do youthink of these new acquaintances of ours?"

  "Thar, Cap, ye put a puzzler."

  "Are they monks?"

  "Wal, them is a sort o' anymals I hain't had much dealin's wi'; niverseed any till we kim inter Mexiko, 'ceptin' one or two as still hangsround San Antone in Texas. But this chile knows little u' thar ways,only from what he's heerin'; an' judgin' be that he'd say thar ain'tnerry monk among 'em."

  "What then? Robbers?"

  "Thar, agin, Cap, I'm clean confuscated. From what we war told o' MrReevus in the gaol, they oughter be that. They sayed he war a captaino' _saltadores_, which means highwaymen. An' yet it do 'pear kewrousshould be sich."

  "From what I know of him," rejoined Kearney, "what I learned yesterday,it would be curious indeed--remarkably so. I've reason to believe him agentleman born, and that his title of captain comes from his having beenan officer in the army."

  "That mou't be, an' still wouldn't contrary his havin' turned tot'other. Down by the Rio Grande, thar are scores o' Mexikin officerswho've did the same, from lootenants up to kurnels--ay, ginrals. Thar'sCanales, who commanded the whole cavalry brigade--the `Chaperal fox' aswe Texans call him--an' thar ain't a wuss thief or cut-throat fromMantamoras up to the mountains. An' what air ole Santy hisself but arobber o' the meanest an' most dastardly sort? So, 'tain't any sign o'honesty their bearing military titles. When they've a war on in tharrevolushionary way, they turn sogers, atween times takin' to the road."

  "Well, Cris, supposing these to be on the road now, what ought we to do,think you?"

  "Neery use thinkin', Cap, since thar's no choice left us. 'Tain't diedog, or eet the hatchet; and this chile goes for chawin' the steel.Whativer they be, we're bound to stick to 'em, an' oughter be glad o'the chance, seein' we haint the shadder o' another. If tuk agin' we'dbe strung up or shot sure. Highwaymen or lowwaymen, they're the onlyones about these diggin's that kin gie us purtekshun, an' I reck'n wemay rely on them for that--so far's they're able."

  For a time Kearney was silent, though not thinking over what the Texanhad said, much of which had passed through his mind before. The trainof his reflections was carried further back, to the point where he wasfirst brought into contact with Rivas, by their legs getting linkedtogether. Then forward throughout the hours and incidents that cameafter, recalling everything that had occurred, in act as inconversation--mentally reviewing all, in an endeavour to solve theproblem that was puzzling them.

  Seeing him so occupied, and with a suspicion of how his thoughts wereworking, the Texan forebore further speech, and awaited the result.

  "If we've fallen among banditti," Kearney at length said, "it will beawkward to get away from them. They'll want us to take a hand at theirtrade, and that wouldn't be nice."

  "Sartinly not, Cap; anything but agreeable to eyther o' us. It goesagin the grit o' a honest man to think o' belongin' to a band o'robbers. But forced to jine 'em, that 'ud be different. Besides, thething ain't the same in Mexico as 'twud be in Texas and the States.Hyar 'tisn't looked on as beein' so much o' a disgrace, s'long's theydon't practice cruelty. An' I've heern Mexikins say 'tain't wuss, noryet so bad, as the way some our own poltishuns an' lawyers plunder thepeople. I guess it be 'bout the same, when one gits used to it."

  To this quaint rigmarole of reasoning--not without reason in it,however,--Kearney only replied with a smile, allowing the Texan tocontinue; which he did, saying--

  "After all, I don't think they're robbers any more than monks; if theybe, they're wonderfully well-behaved. A perliter set o' fellers orbetter kump'ny this chile niver war in durin' the hull coorse of hisexperience in Texas, or otherwhars. They ain't like to lead us intoanythin' very bad, in the way o' cruelty or killin'. So I say, let'sfreeze to 'em, till we find they ain't worthy of being froze to; then wemust gie 'em the slip somehow."

  "Ah! if we can," said his fellow-filibuster doubtingly. "But that isthe thing for the far hereafter. The question is, what are we to donow?"

  "No guess'n at all, Cap, as thar's no choosin' atween. We're boun' tobe robbers for a time, or whatsomever else these new 'quaintances o'ours be themselves. Thet's sure as shootin'."

  "True," returned the other musingly. "There seems no help for it. It'sour fate, old comrade, though one, _I_ trust, we shall be able tocontrol without turning highwaymen. I don't think they are that. Ican't believe it."

  "Nor me neyther. One thing, howsomever, thet I hev obsarved air aleetle queery, an' sort o' in thar favour."

  "What thing?"

  "Thar not hevin' any weemen among 'em. I war in the kitchen thismornin' 'fore ye war up, and kedn't see sign o' a petticoat about, thecookin' bein' all done by men sarvents. Thet, I've heern say, air theway wi' monks; but not wi' the other sort. What do you make o't, Cap?"

  "I hardly know, Cris. Possibly the Mexican brigands, unlike those ofItaly, don't care to encumber themselves with a following of the fairsex."

  "On t'other hand," pursued the Texan, "it seems to contrary their bein'o' the religious sort, puttin' out sentr
ies as they do. Thar wor thatone we passed last night, and this mornin' I seed two go out wi' guns,one takin' each side, and soon arter two others comin' in as if they'dbeen jest relieved from thar posts. Thar's a path as leads down fromboth sides o' the building."

  "All very strange, indeed," said Kearney. "But no doubt we shall soonget explanation of it. By the way," he added, changing tone with thesubject, "where is the dwarf? What have they done with him?"

  "That I can't tell eyther, Cap. I haven't seen stime o' the crittersince he war tuk away from us by that head man o' the sarvents, and Idon't wish ever to set eyes on the skunk again. Cris Rock niver was sotired o' a connexshun as wi' thet same. Wagh!"

  "I suppose they've got him shut up somewhere, and intend so keepinghim--no doubt for good reasons. Ah! now we're likely to hear somethingabout the disposal of ourselves. Yonder comes the man who can tell us!"

  This, as the _soi-disant_ Abbot was seen approaching along the path.