The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the Mountains

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

  QUE COSA?

  Giving way to sweet imaginings, I stood for some seconds under theshadow of the portal.

  Meanwhile the Mexican had passed out of the street.

  As I believed that he had gone back to the saloon we had both latelyforsaken, I started in the same direction.

  I now longed to have a conversation with him; determined in my own mindthat it should be more cordial than any that had yet taken place betweenus. I could at that moment have embraced him: for my gratitude,hitherto restrained by the thought of his being my rival, was suddenlyexalted to a feeling of fervour.

  I should seek an interview with the noble youth; make known who it washe had befriended; and ask if there was any way in which I couldreciprocate his generosity?

  My heart was overflowing towards Francisco Moreno! As he had been thecause of my late misery, I now looked upon him as the instrument of myregeneration.

  "Oh! I shall make an ample return to him! But what is it to be?"

  Just as I gave thought to the interrogatory, a harsh sound struck uponmy ears--as if some one, suddenly stopped in the street, had uttered acry of mixed anger and surprise. It was followed by the words:

  "_Que cosa caballeros? Que cosa comigo_?" (What is it, gentlemen?What do you want with me?)

  "_Vuestra bolsa, senor; nada mas_" (Your purse, sir; nothing more.)

  "_Carrambo_! A modest demand! For all that, I'm not inclined to complywith it. You may have my purse; but not till after you've taken mylife. Out of the way, scoundrels! Let me pass!"

  "Upon him, _camarados_! He is loaded with doblones. _Al tierra_! Downwith him!"

  These words--not very loudly spoken--were succeeded by the sounds of astruggle, in which several men appeared to take part; five or six, as Icould tell by the shuffling of their shoes upon the flagged pavement.

  I no longer heard words; or only a few, that seemed spoken underrestraint, and scarce louder than whispers!

  Even he who had first called out appeared to have become suddenlysilent!

  For all that the struggle was continuing!

  The street in which it was taking place was a sort of narrow passage--leading from one of the main thoroughfares towards the Piazza Grande--and not far from the entrance to the Calle del Obispo.

  It was dimly illumined by a solitary lard lamp, whose feeble flickeringonly served to make the path more uncertain.

  I had myself entered the lane--which chanced to be a near cut betweenthe cafe to which I was returning, and the "calle" I had left behind.It was just as I had got into it that the cry fell upon my ears,followed by the challenge "_Que cosa caballeros_?"

  The rest of the dialogue did not occupy ten seconds of time, before theconflict commenced; and, as the scene of strife was not more than tenpaces from where I had paused, another half-score of seconds carried meup to the spot.

  I had been thus prompt in rushing to the rescue, because I fancied thatI knew the voice of the man who was being assaulted.

  I was right. It was Francisco Moreno!

  I found him in the midst of five men, forming a sort of quincunx aroundhim; against all five of whom he was industriously defending himself;while they were as busy in the endeavour to get him down.

  They were all armed with _machetes_; while he wielded a sword, which hehad drawn from under his cloak.

  I could see that the attacking party carried pistols, but did notattempt to use them--perhaps from fear of causing an alarm, and thusdefeating their purpose: to all appearance plunder!

  I was not so chary about the discharging of mine. The moment I caughtsight of the _Red Hats_--for the assailants were so distinguished--I hada clear comprehension of the sort of gentry with whom the Mexican had todeal, as well as the character of the attack.

  The blood ran scalding within my veins. But that very day I had beensickened at hearing the details of an atrocity, committed by theseprecious pets of our commander-in-chief; and I had mentally vowed, if Ishould ever chance to catch one of them at their tricks, to make shortwork with him.

  The chance had come sooner than I expected; and I remembered my vow.

  The shout with which I interrupted their pastime was almost loud enoughto hinder them from hearing the report of my pistol; but one of themcaught the bullet that came out of it, and went groaning into thegutter.

  I might have shot down a second, or even a third, before they could getout of the way; though they were anything but slow in makingdisappearance.

  I was satisfied with having put an end to one: for this had I done, aswas evident from the silent lump of humanity that lay doubled up alongthe stones.