The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

  THE FREE LANCES.

  "Try a Manilla this time," said the Mexican, as Kearney was reaching outto take a cigar from the case. "Most people believe that the best canonly come from Cuba. A mistake, that. There are some made in thePhilippine Islands equal--in my opinion, superior--to any Havannahs. Ispeak of a very choice article, which don't ever get into the hands ofthe dealers, and's only known to the initiated. Some of our _ricos_import them by way of Acapulco. Those are a fair sample."

  The young Irishman made trial of the weed thus warmly recommended; todiscover what contradicted all his preconceived ideas in the smokingline. He had always heard it said that the choicest cigars areHavannahs; but, after a few whiffs from that Manilla, which had neverseen a cigar shop, he was willing to give up the "Imperadores." Hishost, lighting one of the same, thus proceeded: "_Pues, caballero_; togive you the promised explanation. That the monks of my community areof an order neither very devout nor austere, you've already observed, nodoubt, and may have a suspicion they're not monks at all. Soldiers,every man; most having seen service, and many who have done gallantdeeds. When I speak of them as soldiers, you will understand it in itstrue sense, Senor. With one or two exceptions, all have heldcommissions in our army, and with a like limitation, I may say all aregentlemen. The last revolution, which has again cursed our country byrestoring its chronic tyrant, Santa Anna, of course threw them out; themajority, as myself, being proscribed, with a price set upon theirheads."

  "Then you're not robbers?"

  This was said without thought, the words involuntarily escapingKearney's lips. But the counterfeit abbot, so far from feeling offenceat them, broke out into a laugh, good-humouredly rejoining--

  "Robbers, _amigo mio_! who told you we were that?"

  The Irishman felt abashed, seeing he had committed himself.

  "Don Ruperto," he exclaimed, hastening to make the best of his blunder,"I owe you every apology. It arose from some talk I heard passingaround in the prison. Be assured, I neither did nor could believe it."

  "Thank you, Senor!" returned the Mexican. "Your apologies areappreciated. And," he added, putting on a peculiar smile, "in a waysuperfluous. I believe we do enjoy that repute among our enemies; and,to confess the truth, not without some reason."

  Kearney pricked up his ears, perplexity, with just a shade of trouble,again appearing upon his face. He said nothing, however, allowing theother to proceed.

  "_Carramba_, yes!" continued the proscript. "'Tis quite true we do alittle in the plundering line--now and then. We need doing it, DonFlorencio. But for that, I mightn't have been able to set so good abreakfast before you; nor wines of such quality, nor yet thesedelectable cigars. If you look to the right down there, you'll see the_pueblo_ of San Augustin, and just outside its suburbs, a large yellowhouse. From that came our last supply of drinkable and smokeablematerials, including those here, mahogany and everything. A forcedcontribution, as I've hinted at. But, Senor, I should be sorry to haveyou think we levy blackmail indiscriminately. He from whom they weretaken is one of our bitterest enemies; equally an enemy of our country.'Twas all in the way of reprisal; fair, as you'll admit, when you cometo comprehend the circumstances."

  "I comprehend them now," returned the listener, relieved, "quite; and Itrust you'll accept my apology."

  "_Sans arriere pensee_," responded the Mexican, who could speak French,if not English, "I do frankly, freely. No reproach to you for supposingus robbers. I believe many others do, among whom we make appearance.Southward, however, in the State of Oaxaca, we are better known as `theFree Lances'; a title not so appropriate, either, since our weapons areonly at the disposal of the Republic--our lives as well."

  "But," questioned Kearney, "may I ask why you are habited as I now seeyou?"

  "For a good reason, _amigo_. It adds to our security, giving all sortsof opportunities. Throughout Mexico, the cowl of the monk is the bestpassport a man could be provided with. Wearing it, we go about amongthe mountain villages without suspicion, the people believing that thisold monastery, so long abandoned as to have been forgotten, has againbecome the dwelling-place of a religious order. Of course we don'tallow any of the rustics to approach it. Luckily, they are not curiousenough to care for that, against the toil of climbing up here. If theyattempt it, we have sentinels to stay them. For ourselves, we havelearned to play the part of the holy friar, so that there would bedifficulty in detecting the counterfeit. As it chances, we have with usone or two who once wore the cowl. These perverts have taught us allthe tricks and passwords current among the fraternity. Hitherto theyhave availed us, and I trust will, till the time arrives for our castingoff our cassock, and putting on the soldier's coat. That day is notdistant, Don Florencio; nearer than I expected, from what my comradeshave told me since we came up. The State of Oaxaca is disaffected; as,indeed, the whole southern side of Acapulco, and a _grito_ isanticipated ere long--possibly within a month. Alvarez, who controls inthat quarter, will be the man to raise it; and the old Pinto chief willexpect to be joined by the `Free Lances.' Nor will he be disappointed.We are all burning to be at it. So, caballero, you see how it is withus. And now," he added, changing tone and looking his listenerearnestly in the face, "I have a question to put to yourself."

  "What?" asked the Irishman, seeing that he hesitated putting it.

  "Will you be one of us?"

  It was now Kearney's turn to hesitate about the answer he ought to make.A proposition fraught with such consequences required consideration.To what would he be committing himself if he consented? And what if heshould refuse? Besides, under the circumstances, was he free to refuse?That of itself was a question, a delicate one. He and his comrade,Cris Rock, owed their escape to this strange man, whatever he might be;and to separate from him now, even under full permission, would savourof ingratitude. Still more, after listening to what was further said.For, noting his embarrassment, and deeming it natural enough, theMexican hastened to relieve him.

  "If my proposal be not to your liking, Senor Irlandes, say so; andwithout fear of offence. All the same, you may rest assured of ourprotection while you remain with us; and I shall do what I can to getyou safe out of the country. At all events, I won't send you back tothe Acordada gaol, and the tender care of its governor. So you canspeak frankly, without reserve. Are you willing to be one of us?"

  "I am!" was the answer, given without further hesitation.

  Why should he have either hesitated or said nay? In the heart of ahostile country, an escaped prisoner, his life, as he felt sure,forfeited should he be retaken. Joining Rivas and his Free Lances mightbe his sole chance of saving it. Even had they been banditti, he couldnot have done better then.

  "Yes, Don Ruperto," he added; "if you deem me worthy of belonging toyour brotherhood, be it so. I accept your invitation."

  "And your comrade, Don Cristoforo. Will he be of the same mind, thinkyou?"

  "Sure to be. I take it I can answer for him. But you shall hear foryourself. Rock!"

  He called to the Texan, who, not understanding their dialogue, hadsauntered apart, chewing away at the Imperador.

  "Wal, Cap; what's up now?" he asked on rejoining them.

  "They're no robbers, Cris," said Kearney, speaking freely in their owntongue.

  "Gled to hear it. I didn't think they war--noways. Nor monks neyther,I guess?"

  "Nor monks."

  "What then, Cap?"

  "The same as yourself. Patriots who have been fighting for theircountry, and got defeated. That's why they are here--in hiding."

  "Yes, Cap; I see it all, clar as coon's track on a mud bar. Enemies o'ole Santy, who've got beat it thar last risin'."

  "Just so. But they expect another rising soon, and wish us to jointhem. I've agreed, and said so. What say you?"

  "Lordy, Cap; what a questun to be axed, an' by yurself! Sure this chileair boun' to stick to ye, whatsomever ye do. Ef they'd been brigants, Ish
ed 'a put my conscience in my pocket, and goe'd in wi' 'em all thesame; s'long you're agreed. Nor I wudn't 'a minded turning monk for aspell. But men who intend foughtin' for freedom? Haleluyah! Cris Rockair all thar! Ye may tell him so."

  "He consents," said Kearney, reporting to the Mexican; "and willingly asmyself. Indeed, Don Ruperto, we ought both to regard it as a grace--anhonour--to be so associated, and we shall do the best we can to showourselves worthy of it."

  "_Mil gracias, Senor_! The grace and honour are all given to us. Twosuch _valientes_, as I know you to be, will be no slight acquisition toour strength. And now, may I ask you to assume the garb which, as yousee, is our present uniform? That by way of precaution for the time.You'll find suitable raiment inside. I've given Gregorio orders to getit ready. So you see, _Camarades_, I've been counting upon you."

  "Gehosofat!" exclaimed the Texan, when told of the dress he was expectedto put on. "What wi' New Orleens store close, an' prison duds, an' thelike, this chile hev had a goodish wheen o' changes since he strippedoff his ole huntin' shirt. An' now a-goin' in for a monk! Wal; tho' Imayn't be the most sanctified, I reck'n I'll be the tallest in tharmon'stery."