The Adventurers

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XLV.

  THE FATHER REVEALS HIMSELF.

  Don Tadeo had passed the greater part of the night in giving ordersfor the clearing away of the hideous traces left by the combat. Hehad named the magistrates charged with the police of the city. Afterhaving assured, as far as possible, the tranquillity and safety of thecitizens, and sent several couriers to Santiago, and other centresof population, to inform them of what had taken place, worn out withfatigue, sinking with sleep, he had thrown himself, clothed as he was,upon a camp bed, to take a little repose. He had slept scarcely an hourthat agitated sleep which is the lot of men upon whom the destinies ofempires rest, when the door of the chamber was pushed violently open, astrong light gleamed in his eyes, and several men surrounded him. DonTadeo awoke suddenly.

  "Who is there?" he cried, endeavouring to recognise, in spite of thelight which dazzled his eyes, the persons who so inopportunely disturbedhis repose.

  "It is I," replied Don Gregorio.

  "Well, but you do not seem to be alone?"

  "No, Don Valentine accompanies me."

  "Don Valentine!" cried Don Tadeo, starting up, and passing his hand overhis brow, to drive away the clouds which still obscured his ideas; "why,I did not expect Don Valentine before morning, at soonest; what seriousreason can have induced him to travel by night?"

  "A powerful reason, Don Tadeo," the young man remarked, in a melancholyvoice.

  "In Heaven's name! speak, then!" cried Don Tadeo.

  "Be a man! be firm! collect all your courage to bear worthily the blowyou are about to receive."

  Don Tadeo walked two or three times round the room, with his headcast down, and his brow contracted; then stopped suddenly in front ofValentine with a pale brow, but with a stoical countenance. This manof iron had subdued nature within him; as if aware of the rudeness ofthe shock he was about to receive, he had ordered his heart not tobreak--his muscles not to quiver.

  "Speak!" he said, "I am ready to hear you."

  While uttering these words his voice was firm, his features calm.Valentine, though well acquainted with his courage, was struck withadmiration.

  "Is the misfortune you are about to announce to me personal?" said DonTadeo.

  "Yes," the young man replied, in a tremulous voice.

  "God be praised! Go on, then; I listen to you."

  Valentine perceived that he must not put the soul of this man to toohard a trial; he determined to speak.

  "Dona Rosario has disappeared," he said; "she has been carried offduring our absence; Louis, my foster brother, in endeavouring to defendher, has fallen, pierced by two sword thrusts."

  The King of Darkness appeared a statue of marble; no emotion wasperceptible upon his austere countenance.

  "Is Don Louis dead?" he asked, earnestly.

  "No," Valentine answered, more and more astonished; "I even hope that ina few days he will be cured."

  "So much the better," said Don Tadeo, feelingly; "I am indeed glad tohear that."

  And, crossing his arms upon his broad chest, he resumed his hasty walkabout the room. The three men looked at each other, surprised at thisstoicism, which to them was unintelligible.

  "Will you then abandon Dona Rosario to her ravishers?" Don Gregorioasked, in a reproachful tone.

  Don Tadeo darted at him a look charged with such bitter irony, that DonGregorio quailed beneath it.

  "Were the ravishers concealed in the entrails of the earth, I woulddiscover them, be they who they may!" Don Tadeo replied.

  "A man is on their track," said Trangoil-Lanec, advancing; "that man isCurumilla. He will discover them."

  A flash of joy for a moment shot from the eye of the King of Darkness.

  "Oh!" he murmured, with clenched teeth, "beware, Dona Maria, beware!"

  He at once had divined the author of the abduction of Rosario.

  "What do you intend to do?" said Don Gregorio.

  "Nothing, till the return of our scout," he replied, coldly; and thenturning towards Valentine, added--"Well, my friend, have you nothingelse to announce to me?"

  "What leads you to suppose I have not told you all?" said the young man.

  "Ah!" Don Tadeo replied, with a melancholy smile, "you know, my friend,that we Spanish Americans, however civilized we may appear, are stillsemi-barbarians, and, as such, horribly superstitious."

  "Well?"

  "Well, then, among other follies of the same kind, we place faith inproverbs; and is there not one which somewhere says, that a misfortunenever comes singly?"

  "Good Heavens! do you take me for a bird of ill omen, Don Tadeo?"

  "God forbid, my friend! only search in your memory, I am sure I am notmistaken, and that you have still something else to inform me of."

  "Well, you are right, I have other news to announce to you; whether goodor bad, I leave you to judge."

  "I knew there was something more behind," said Don Tadeo, with a sadsmile; "go on, my friend, let us hear this news, I am listening to you."

  "Yesterday, as you know, General Bustamente renewed the treaties ofpeace with the Araucano chiefs."

  "He did."

  "I cannot tell what fugitive or what scout gave them information of whathad taken place here; but by evening they had learnt the defeat andcapture of the General."

  "I can understand that; go on."

  "A kind of furious madness immediately seemed to possess them, and theyheld a great war council."

  "In which, I suppose, they decided upon breaking the treaties; is notthat it?"

  "Exactly."

  "And most likely determined upon war with us?"

  "I suppose so; the four toquis cast the hatchet into the fire, and asupreme toqui was elected in their place."

  "Ah! ah!" said Don Tadeo, "and do you know the name of this supremetoqui?"

  "Yes; Antinahuel."

  "I suspected as much," Don Tadeo cried, angrily; "that man has deceivedus. He is a scoundrel only living by cunning, and whose devouringambition leads him to sacrifice, when occasion offers, the dearestinterests, and falsify the most sacred oaths. He has been playing adouble game; he feigned to be the partisan of General Bustamente, as heappeared to be ours, building upon our mutual ruin his own fortunes andhis future elevation. But he has thrown off the mask too hastily. Byheaven! I will inflict a chastisement upon him, of which his compatriotsshall preserve the remembrance, and which a century hence shall makethem tremble with fear."

  "Beware of the ears that, listen to you," said Don Gregorio, directinghis attention by a look to the Ulmen, who stood quietly before him.

  "Eh! what care I?" Don Tadeo replied, warmly; "if I speak thus, it isbecause I wish to be heard. I am a Spanish noble, and what my heartthinks my lips give utterance to; the Ulmen is welcome, if it seems goodto him, to repeat my words to his chief."

  "The Great Eagle of the Whites is unjust towards his son," repliedTrangoil-Lanec, in a serious tone; "all Araucanos have not the sameheart; Antinahuel is only responsible for his own acts. Trangoil-Lanecis an Ulmen in his tribe; he knows how to be present at a council ofchiefs: what his eyes see, what his ears hear, his heart forgets, hismouth repeats it not: why should my father address such unkind words tome, who am ready to devote myself to restore to him her he has lost?"

  "That is true; I am unjust, chief, I was wrong in speaking so; yourheart is true, your tongue is unacquainted with falsehood. Pardon me,and let me clasp your loyal hand in mine."

  Trangoil-Lanec pressed warmly the hand Don Tadeo held out to him.

  "My father is good," he said; "his heart is at this moment darkened bythe great misfortune that has fallen upon him; but let my father becomforted, Trangoil-Lanec will restore the blue-eyed maiden to him."

  "Thanks, chief! I accept your offer, you may depend upon my gratitude."

  "Trangoil-Lanec does not sell his services, he is repaid when hisfriends are happy."

  "Caramba!" cried Valentine, shaking the hand of the chief with all hismight, "you are a worthy man, Trangoil-Lanec--I am
proud of being yourfriend."

  Then, turning towards Don Tadeo, he said--"I must bid you farewell, fora time. I confide my brother Louis to your care."

  "Why do you leave me?" Don Tadeo asked, warmly.

  "I must. I see your heart is breaking, in spite of the incredibleefforts you make to appear impassive. I know not the nature of the tiewhich binds you to the unfortunate girl who has been the victim of anodious crime; but I can see the loss of her is killing you--now, withthe assistance of Heaven, I will restore her to you, Don Tadeo; I will,or I will die in the endeavour."

  "Don Valentine!" the gentleman exclaimed, strongly moved, "what do youpropose to do? your project is wild; I cannot accept such devotion."

  "Leave it to me. Caramba! I am a Parisian--that is to say, as obstinateas a mule; and when once an idea, good or bad, has entered into mybrain, it has no chance of getting out, I swear to you. I shall onlytake the time to embrace my poor brother, and set off immediately. Come,chief, let us set ourselves upon the track of the ravishers."

  "Let us be gone," said the Ulmen.

  Don Tadeo remained for a moment motionless, his eyes fixed upon theyoung man with a strange expression; a violent conflict appeared to begoing on within him; at length nature prevailed, he burst into tears;and, throwing himself into the arms of the Frenchman, he murmured, in avoice choked by grief--

  "Valentine! Valentine! restore me my daughter!"

  The father had at length revealed himself; the stoicism of the statesmanhad sunk before paternal love!--But human nature has its limits, beyondwhich it cannot go; the moral shock which Don Tadeo had received, theimmense efforts he had made to conceal it, had completely exhaustedhis strength, and he sank upon the slabs of the floor like a proud oakstruck by thunder. He had fainted. Valentine contemplated him for amoment with pity and grief.

  "Poor father!" he said, "take courage, thy child shall be restored tothee!"

  And he left the room with hasty steps, followed by Trangoil-Lanec,whilst Don Gregorio, kneeling by his friend, gave him the most earnestand kind attentions for the recovery of his senses.

  CHAPTER XLVI.

  CURUMILLA.

  In order to explain to the reader the miraculous disappearance ofRosario, we are obliged to make a few retrograde steps, and return toCurumilla, at the moment when the Ulmen, after his conversation withTrangoil-Lanec, had thrown himself, like a staunch bloodhound, upon thetrack of the young girl. Curumilla was a warrior as renowned for hisprudence and wisdom in council, as for his bravery in fight. Havingcrossed the river, he left his horse in the care of a peon who hadaccompanied him, as it would not only be useless to him, but, stillfurther, because it might even be injurious by betraying his presence bythe clatter of its hoofs upon the ground. Indians are expert horsemen,but they are indefatigable walkers. Nature has endowed them withincredible strength of muscles of the legs and hams; and they possess inthe highest degree the knowledge of that rising and sinking gymnasticstep, which, for some years past, has been introduced into Europe,particularly into France, in the marching of troops. They accomplishwith incredible swiftness journeys which horses could hardly perform,always directing their course in a straight line, or as the bird flies,without regard to the difficulties that may arise in their way, noobstacle being sufficient to turn them from their course. This qualityrenders them particularly formidable to the Spanish Americans, whocannot obtain this facility of locomotion, and who, in time of war, findthe redskins always before them at the moment they least expect them,and that almost always at considerable distances from the spots where,logically, they ought to be.

  Curumilla, after having carefully studied the prints made by theravishers, at once divined the route they had taken, and the place theywere bound to. He did not amuse himself with following them, for thatwould have been losing precious time; on the contrary, he resolved tocut across country, and wait for them at an elbow of the road he wasacquainted with, where, at all events, he could ascertain their numbers,and, perhaps, save the young girl. This being determined, the Ulmenset off. He walked for several hours without rest, eye and ear on thewatch, trying to penetrate the darkness, and listening patiently to thevarious noises of the desert. These noises, which are to us white mena dead letter, have for the Indians, who are accustomed to interrogatethem, a special signification, in which they are never deceived; theyanalyse them, they decompose them, and often learn by this means thingswhich their enemies have the greatest interest in concealing from them.However inexplicable this fact may at first appear, it is very simple.There exists no noise in the desert without a cause. The flight ofbirds, the passage of wild beasts, the rustling of leaves, the rollingof a stone down a ravine, the undulation of high grass, the friction ofbranches in the woods, are for the Indian valuable indications.

  At a certain point with which he was acquainted, Curumilla laid himselfdown flat on his face, behind a block of rock, and remained motionlessamong the grass and bushes that bordered the route. He remained thus formore than an hour, without making the least movement. Whoever might haveperceived him would have taken him for a dead body. The practised ear ofthe Indian, ever on the watch, at length caught in the distance the dullsound of the feet of horses and mules upon the dry and sonorous road.This noise grew rapidly nearer, and soon, from his hiding place, heperceived about twenty horsemen passing slowly along in the dark, withintwo lance lengths of him. The ravishers, emboldened by their numbers,and believing themselves secure from all danger, rode along in perfectsecurity. The Indian raised his head softly, and leaning on his hands,followed them with his anxious eyes, and waited. They passed withoutseeing him. At some paces behind the troop, a horseman came along,leaving himself carelessly to the measured pace of his horse. His headoccasionally sank upon his breast, and his hands had but a feeble holdof the reins. It was evident that this man was asleep in his saddle.

  A sudden idea rushed like lightning through Curumilla's brain; gatheringhimself up, he stiffened the iron muscles of his legs, and, boundinglike a tiger, leaped up behind the horseman. Before the latter,surprised by this unexpected attack, had time to utter a cry, he pressedhis throat in such a manner as, for the time, to render him incapableof calling for help. In the twinkling of an eye the horseman was gaggedand thrown to the ground: then, securing the horse, Curumilla fastenedit to a bush, and returned to his prisoner. The latter, with the stoicaland disdainful courage peculiar to the aborigines of America, findinghimself conquered, attempted no useless resistance; he looked at hisconqueror with a smile of contempt, and waited for him to speak to him.

  "Oh!" said Curumilla, who, upon leaning over him, recognised him, "is ityou, Joan?"

  "Curumilla!" the other replied.

  "Hum!" the Ulmen murmured to himself, "I would rather it had beensomebody else. What is my brother doing on this path?" he asked.

  "Of what consequence is that to my brother?" said the Indian, replyingto one question by another.

  "We have no time to waste," the chief replied, unsheathing his knife;"let my brother speak."

  Joan started; a shudder ran through his limbs at the blue lightreflected by the long, sharp blade of the knife.

  "The chief can question me," he said, in a husky voice.

  "Where is my brother going?"

  "To the tolderia of San Miguel."

  "Good! and for what purpose is my brother going there?"

  "To place in the hands of the sister of the grand toqui a woman whom wehave carried off this morning."

  "Who ordered you to do so?"

  "She whom we are going to meet."

  "Who had the direction of this affair?"

  "I had."

  "Good! where does this woman expect the prisoner?"

  "I have told the chief; at the tolderia of San Miguel."

  "In which casa?"

  "In the last; the one which stands a little apart from the others."

  "That is well! Let my brother exchange poncho and hat with me."

  The Indian obeyed without a word, and when the
exchange was made,Curumilla said--

  "I could kill my brother; prudence would even require me to do so, butpity has entered my heart--Joan has wives and children, he is one of thebrave warriors of his tribe; if I let him live, will he be grateful?"

  The Indian had expected that he was going to die, but these wordsrestored him to hope. He was not a bad man at bottom; the Ulmen knew himwell, and was satisfied he would keep his promises.

  "My father holds my life in his hands," Joan replied; "if he does nottake it today, I shall remain his debtor--I will lay down my life at asign from him."

  "Very well!" said Curumilla, returning his knife to its sheath, "mybrother may rise, a chief keeps his word."

  The Indian sprang upon his feet, and fervently kissed the hand of theman who had spared him.

  "What does my father command?" he asked.

  "My brother must repair as fast as possible to the tolderia which theHuincas name Valdivia. He will seek Don Tadeo, the Great Eagle of theWhites, and relate to him what has passed between us, adding, that Iwill save the prisoner, or die."

  "Is that all?"

  "Yes. If the Great Eagle requires the services of my brother, he willplace himself without hesitation at his orders. Farewell! May Pillianguide my brother! and let him never forget that I was not willing totake the life that was in my power!"

  "Joan will not forget," the Indian replied.

  At a sign from Curumilla, he bent down in the high grass, crept alonglike a serpent, and disappeared in the direction of Valdivia. The chief,without losing an instant, jumped into the saddle and soon joined thelittle troop, who had continued jogging quietly along, without dreamingof the substitution that had just taken place. It was Curumilla who,while carrying the young girl into the house, had whispered hope andcourage. These three words, in announcing to her that she had a friendwatching over her, had restored her the strength necessary for thestruggle that awaited her.

  After the unexpected arrival of Antinahuel, when, at the order of DonaMaria, Curumilla led away the prisoner, instead of reconducting herto the apartment in which she had been, he threw a poncho over her todisguise her.

  "Follow me," he said in a low voice; "step out boldly, I will endeavourto save you."

  The maiden hesitated; she was fearful of a snare. The Ulmen comprehendedher feeling, and said quickly, in a low voice--

  "I am Curumilla, one of the Ulmens devoted to the two Frenchmen, thefriends of Don Tadeo."

  Rosario startled imperceptibly.

  "Go on," she replied in a firm tone; "happen what may, I will followyou."

  And they left the hut together. The Indians, dispersed here and there,were busily talking over the events of the day, and did not observethem. The two fugitives proceeded for ten minutes without exchanging aword. The village was soon lost in the darkness; at length Curumillastopped at a thick clump of cactus, behind which two horses stood,saddled and bridled.

  "Does my sister find herself strong enough to mount on horseback, andride a long distance?" he asked.

  "To escape from my persecutors," she replied, in a broken voice, "I feelI have strength to do anything."

  "Good!" said Curumilla, "my sister is courageous. Her God will help her!"

  "It is in Him alone I place my hope," she said, with a sigh.

  "To horse, then, and let us begone! minutes are ages!"

  He unfastened the horses, they mounted, and set of at full speed,without any sound being produced upon the road by their hoofs, whichCurumilla had covered with pieces of sheepskin. The maiden breatheda sigh of relief on feeling herself once more free, and under theprotection of a devoted friend. The fugitives continued to ride at arapid pace, in a direction diametrically opposite to the one they shouldhave taken to return to Valdivia. Prudence required that they should notyet take any route on which, according to all possibilities, they wouldbe looked for.

  We must leave our friends in this critical position for the present;but those readers who feel an interest in the loves of Don Louis andDona Rosario, will find their curiosity fully satisfied in the followingvolume of this series, called "The Pearl of the Andes."

  THE END.