The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

  Long after the lovers had entered the arbour the mestiza had remained inher squatting attitude, listening to the conversation, of which not aword escaped her. It was not, however, her interest in that which boundher to the spot, but her fear of being discovered should she attempt toleave it. She had reason while it was still moonlight, for the openground she must pass over was distinctly visible from the arbour. Itwas only after the moon went down that she saw the prospect of retiringunseen; and, choosing a moment when the lovers had their faces turnedfrom her, she crawled a few yards back, rose to her feet, and ran nimblyoff in the darkness.

  Strange to say, the rustling heard by the senorita was not made by thegirl at the moment of her leaving the arbour. It was caused by a twigwhich she had bent behind a branch, the better to conceal herself, andthis releasing itself had sprung back to its place. That was why noobject was visible to the lovers, although coming hastily out of thearbour. The spy at that instant was beyond the reach of sight as wellas hearing. She had got through the avenue before the twig moved.

  She did not stop for a moment. She did not return to her apartment, butcrossing the patio hastily entered the zaguan. This she traversed withstealthy steps, as if afraid to awake the portero.

  On reaching the gate she drew from her pocket a key. It was not the keyof the main lock, but of the lesser one, belonging to the postern doorwhich opened through the great gate.

  This key she had secured at an earlier hour of the evening, for the veryuse she was now about to make of it.

  She placed it in the lock, and then shot the bolt, using all the careshe could to prevent it from making a noise. She raised the latch withlike caution; and then, opening the door, stepped gently to the outside.She next closed the door after her, slowly and silently; and this done,she ran with all her speed along the road towards some woods that wereoutside the town, and not far from the house of Don Ambrosio.

  It was in these woods that Roblado held his men in ambush. He hadbrought them thither at a late hour, and by a circuitous route, so thatno one should see them as they entered the timber, and thus prevent thepossibility of a frustration of his plans. Here he was waiting thearrival of his spy.

  The girl soon reached the spot, and in a few minutes detailed to theofficer the whole of what she had witnessed. What she had heard therewas no time to tell, for she communicated to Roblado how she had beendetained, and the latter saw there was not a moment to be lost. Theinterview might end before he should be ready, and his prey might stillescape him.

  Had Roblado felt more confidence as to time he would now have acteddifferently. He would have sent some men by a lower crossing, and letthem approach the bottom of the garden directly from the meadow; hewould, moreover, have spent more time and caution about the "surround."

  But he saw he might be too late, should he adopt this surer course. Aquicker one recommended itself, and he at once gave the orders to hisfollowers. These were divided into two parties of different sizes.Each was to take a side of the garden, and deploy along the wall, butthe larger party was to drop only a few of its men, while the rest wereto ride hastily over the greater bridge, and gallop round to the bottomof the garden. Roblado himself was to lead this party, whose duty wouldlikely be of most importance. As the leader well knew, the garden wallscould not be scaled without a ladder, and the cibolero, if found withinthe garden, would attempt to escape by the bridge at the bottom. Lesthe might endeavour to get through the avenue and off by the front of thehouse, the girl Vicenza was to conduct Gomez with several men on footthrough the patio, and guide them to the avenue entrance.

  The plan was well enough conceived. Roblado knew the ground well. Hehad often strolled through that garden, and its walls and approacheswere perfectly familiar to him. Should he be enabled to surround itbefore the cibolero could got notice of their approach, he was sure ofhis victim. The latter must either be killed or captured.

  In five minutes after the arrival of the spy he had communicated thewhole of their duties to the men; and in five minutes more they hadridden out of the woods, crossed the small tract that separated themfrom the house, and were in the act of surrounding the garden! It wasat this moment that the dog Cibolo first uttered his growl of alarm.

  "Fly--fly!" cried Catalina as she saw her lover approach. "Oh! do notthink of me! They dare not take my life. I have committed no offence.Oh, Carlos, leave me! fly! _Madre de Dios_! they come this way!"

  As she spoke a number of dark forms were seen entering from the avenue,and coming down the garden. Their scabbards clanked among the bushes asthey rushed through them. They were soldiers on foot! Several remainedby the entrance, while the rest ran forward.

  Carlos had for a moment contemplated escape in that direction. Itoccurred to him, if he could get up to the house and on the azotea, hemight drop off on either side, and, favoured by the darkness, return tothe meadow at some distant point. This idea vanished the moment he sawthat the entrance was occupied. He glanced to the walls. They were toohigh to be scaled. He would be attacked while attempting it. No otherchance offered but to cut his way through by the bridge, he now saw theerror he had committed in returning. She was in no danger--at least inno peril of her life. Indeed her greater danger would arise from hisremaining near her. He should have crossed the bridge at first. He wasnow separated from his horse. He might summon the latter by his call--he knew that--but it would only bring the noble animal within reach ofhis foes--perhaps to be captured. That would be as much as taking hisown life. No: he could not summon his steed from where he was, and hedid not utter the signal. What was he to do? To remain by the side ofCatalina, to be surrounded and captured, perhaps cut down like a dog?To imperil her life as well?--No. He must make a desperate struggle toget out of the enclosure, to reach the open country if possible, andthen--

  His thoughts went no farther. He cried out--

  "Querida, farewell! I must leave you--do not despair. If I die, Ishall carry your love to heaven! Farewell, farewell!"

  These words were uttered in the parting haste of the moment, and he hadsprung away so suddenly that he did not hear the answering farewell.

  The moment he was gone the lady dropped to her knees, and with handsclasped, and eyes raised to heaven, offered her prayer for his safety.

  Half-a-dozen springs brought Carlos once more under the shadow of thegrove. He saw his foes on the opposite bank, and from their voices hecould tell there were many of them. They were talking loudly andshouting directions to one another. He could distinguish the voice ofRoblado above the rest. He was calling upon some of the men to dismountand follow him over the bridge. He was himself on foot, for the purposeof crossing.

  Carlos saw no other prospect of escape than by making a quick rushacross the bridge, and cutting his way through the crowd. By that meanshe might reach the open plain, and fight his way until his horse couldcome up. Once in the saddle he would have laughed at their attempts totake him. It was a desperate resolve,--a perilous running of thegauntlet,--almost certain death; but still more certain death was thealternative if he remained where he was.

  There was no time for hesitation. Already several men had dismounted,and were making towards the bridge. He must cross before they hadreached it; one was already upon it. He must be beaten back.

  Carlos, cocking his pistol, rushed forward to the gate. The man hadreached it from the other side. They met face to face, with the gatestill shut between them. Carlos saw that his antagonist was Robladohimself!

  Not a word was spoken between them. Roblado also had his pistol inreadiness and fired first, but missed his aim. He perceived this, and,dreading the fire from his adversary, he staggered back to the bank,shouting to his followers to discharge their carbines.

  Before they could obey the order, the crack of the cibolero's pistolrang upon the air, and Roblado, with a loud oath, rolled down by theedge of the water. Carlos dashed open the gate, and was about t
o rushonward, when he perceived through the smoke and darkness severalcarbines brought to the level, and aimed at him. A sudden thought cameinto his mind, and he changed his design of crossing the bridge. Thetime was but the pulling of a trigger, but, short as it was, he effectedhis purpose. The carbines blazed and cracked, all nearly at the sameinstant, and when the smoke cleared away Carlos was no longer on thebridge! Had he gone back into the garden? No--already half-a-dozen menhad cut off his retreat in that direction!

  "He is killed!" cried several voices, "Carajo!--he has fallen into theriver! _Mira_!"

  All eyes were turned upon the stream. Certainly a body had plunged intoit, as the bubbles and circling waves testified, but only these were tobe seen! "He has sunk! he's gone to the bottom!" cried some.

  "Be sure he hasn't swum away!" counselled a voice; and several ran alongthe banks with their eyes searching the surface.

  "Impossible! there are no waves."

  "He could not have passed here," said one who stood a little below thebridge. "I have been watching the water."

  "So have I," cried another from above. "He has not passed my position."

  "Then he is dead and gone down!"

  "Carajo! let us fish him out!" And they were proceeding to put thisidea into execution, when Roblado, who had now got to his feet, findingthat a wounded arm was all he had suffered, ordered them to desist.

  "Up and down!" he thundered; "scatter both ways--quick, or he may yetescape us. Go!"

  The men did as they were ordered, but the party who turned down-streamhalted through sheer surprise. The figure of a man was seen, in a bentattitude and crawling up the bank, at the distance of a hundred yardsbelow. The next moment it rose into an erect position, and glided overthe plain with lightning speed, in the direction of the copse of timber!

  "_Hola_!" exclaimed several voices; "yonder he goes! _Por todossantos_, it is he!"

  Amidst the cracking of carbines that followed, a shrill whistle washeard; and before any of the mounted men could ride forward, a horse wasseen shooting out from the copse and meeting the man upon the openmeadow! Quick as thought the latter vaulted into the saddle, and afteruttering a wild and scornful laugh galloped off, and soon disappeared inthe darkness!

  Most of the dragoons sprang upon their horses and followed; but after ashort gallop over the plain they gave up the chase, and one by onereturned to their wounded leader.

  To say that Roblado was furious would be to characterise very faintlythe state he was in. But he had still one captive on which to vent hisrage and chagrin.

  Catalina had been captured in the garden,--taken while praying for thesafe escape of her lover. Jose had remained in charge of her, while therest rushed down to assist in the capture of Carlos, at which Jose,knowing the cibolero as he did, and not being over brave, evinced nodesire to be present.

  Catalina heard the shots and shouts that denoted the terrible struggle.She had heard, too, the shrill whistle and the scornful laugh that rangloudly above the din. She had heard the shouts of the pursuers dyingaway in the distance.

  Her heart beat with joy. She knew that her lover was free!

  She thought then, and then only, of herself. She thought, too, ofescape. She knew the rude taunts she would have to listen to from thebrutal leader of these miscreants. What could she do to avoid anencounter? She had but one to deal with--Jose. She knew the despicablecharacter of the man. Would gold tempt him? She would make the trial.

  It was made, and succeeded. The large sum offered was irresistible.The villain knew that there could be no great punishment for letting goa captive who could at any time be taken again. He would risk thechances of his captain's displeasure for such a sum. His captain mighthave reasons for not dealing too severely with him. The purse was paid,and the lady was allowed to go.

  She was to close the door, locking it from the inside, as though she hadescaped by flight; and this direction of Jose was followed to theletter.

  As Roblado crossed the bridge he was met by the soldier, who, breathlessand stammering, announced that the fair prisoner had got into the house.She had slipped from his side and ran off. Had it been an ordinarycaptive, he could have fired upon her, but he was unable to overtake heruntil she had passed the door, which was closed and locked before hecould get near.

  For a moment Roblado hesitated whether to "storm the house." His ragealmost induced him to the act. He reflected, however, that theproceeding might appear somewhat ridiculous and could not much betterhis position; besides, the pain of his wounded arm admonished him toretire from the field.

  He re-crossed the bridge, was helped upon his horse, and, summoningaround him his valiant troop, he rode back to the Presidio--leaving theroused town to conjecture the cause of the alarm.