Beadle's Dime Library, No. 149 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- + ’ & 5 | a rap ag ‘ * *, ar ; 4 é . é , Pe 'daw r i = > ‘ m4 cud! 4 a ; 1 " / \ bs is re) j revlis 4 - , don he é "ha \ ert - 4 - ¢ . . “ a Heb a Ee oe eS TTS a A ea — i ee ee ~ i 4 A ‘ ° ~ ; ; ; L oe j : hunter, ot _ [give you your ier? Te : ders, returned to his place by his side, Father Anto- nio tried to jest a what ha pened and the cloud of darkened the gravity that had sudde officer's ace f . ; ‘Oh, oh,” he said to him, with a loud laugh, “how gloomy you are, captain! Did you see three owls flying on your right? The pagans assert that such is an evil omen.’ -“* Perhaps so,” the captain dryly replied. The tone in which the remark was uttered had nothing friendly and inviting about it. The monk understood that any conversation at this moment was impossible; he took the hint, bit his lips, and continued to ride silently by his companion’s side. An hour later they reached the bivouac; neither the monk nor the officer had said a word; but the nearer they came to the spot selected for the halt, the more anxious each seemed to grow. CHAPTER XV. THE HALT. ‘ Toe sun had almost entirely disappeared on the horizon at the moment when the caravans reached the halting-ground. ‘This spot, situated on the top of a rather scarped hill, had been selected with that sagacity which dis- tinguishes Texan or Mexican arrieros; any surprise was impossible, and the aged trees which grew on the crest of the hill would, in the event of an attack, offer a secure protection against bullets. The mules were unloaded, but, contrary to the usual custom, the bales, instead of being employed a breastwork for the camp, were piled up and p out of reach of the marauders, whom chance or he atin might attract to this quarter when the darkness had set in. ; Seven or oan ree Sse were lit in a circle, in or- der to keep off wild beasts; the mules received their ration of Indian corn on mantas or horsecloths laid on the ground; then, so soon as sentinels wére posted round the camp, the troopers and arrieros were the poor supper, which b engaged in prepal tog y= he rend necessary. Captain Don Juan and the monk, who had gone a little aside to a fire oeenanele for them, were be- ginning to smoke their husk cigarettes, while the Cfficer’s servant was hastily preparing his master’s a meal, we are bound to say, as simple as that ,.of the other members of the caravan, buf which hunger had the privilege of rendering not only ae petizing, but almost-succulent, although it was only composed of a few — of tocino, or meat dried in the sun, and four or five biscuits. captain soon finished his supper. He then rose, and, as night had completely fallen, went to visit the sentries, and see that all was in order. When he resumed his place by the fire, Father An- tonio, with his feet turned. to the flame, and wrap- ped in a thick zarape, was sleeping, or pretending to sleep, soundly. Don Juan-examined him for a moment with an ex- pression of hatred and contempt, impossible to de- scribe, shook his head twice or thrice thoughtfully, and then told his assistente, who was standing a few —— in expectation of his orders, to have the wo prisoners brought up. These prisoners had hitherto been kept apart; though treated with respect, it was, however, easy for them to see that they were guarded with the greatest care; still, either through carelessness or some other reason, they did not appear to notice the fact, for their weapons had been left them, and judging from their muscular force and energetic features, though both had reached middle life, there was fair ground for supposing when the moment ar- rived for them to on their liberty, they would be the men to try and regain it by force. - Without any remark they followed the captain's servant, and soon found themselves before that clficer, ough the bight was gloomy, the flames of the sufficient light around to illumine the of the new-comers. : On seeing them Don Juan gave a start of surprise, but one the prisoners laid his er on his lip to recommend prudence to him, and at the same time glanced significantly at the monk lying near them. The ca understood this dumb warning, to which he replied by alight nod of the head, and then fected the utmost carelessness. ** Who are you?” he asked, as he idly rolled a cigar- ette between his fingers. _ “Hunters,’’ one of the prisoners answered, with- _ “ You were found a few hours back halting on the bank of a stream.” Ree eee correct." _. “ What were you doing there?” The prisoner bent a scrutinizing glance around, and then looked again boldly af the speaker. “Before giving any further answer to yeur ques- tions,” he said, ‘‘ I should like to ask you onein my turn, - “ What. is it?’ _“ Your right to cross-question me?”’ _“ Look round you,” the captain lightly replied. “Yes, I understand you, the right of force. Un- juckily Ido not recognize that right. I am a free acknowledging no other law but my will, no her master but myself.”’ ‘Oh, oh! your language is bold, comrade.” “Tt ist of a man not accustomed to yield to arbitrary power; to take me you have abused— T do not say your strength, for your soldiers would have killed me, before compelling me to follow them, had not such been my intention—but the ‘facility with which I confided in you: I therefore st against it, and demand my immediate free- out hesitation. 9 oy Your haughty language has no effect on me, and were it my go leasure to eee to speak, I ams compel you by certain irresistible arguments we the prisoner said, bitterly, ‘the Mexicans remember the Spaniards their ancestors, and al to torture when “yy snag well, try it, ca who prevents you? I trust that my gray hairs will not grow weak before your young mustache.”’ “ Enough of this,’’ the captain said, te liberty, should I déliver a friend ora * n— * Neither.” “Hum! what do you mean?” “My answer is clear enough, surely,” _eE—a—_—____________.___ Ea a ee ** Still, Ido not understand it.”’ + , ” rf in explain ap words. ** Both of us. being puanes in diametri oppo- site positions, chance has thought proper to bring us together to-day; if we now part, we shall take with us no feeling of hatred through our meeting, because neither you nor I have had cause to complain of each other, and probably we shall never see each other again.” ‘** Still, it is plain that when my soldiers found you you were expecting somebody on this road,”’ “What makes you suppose that?’’ ** Hang it! you told me you were hunters; I do not see any game you could hunt along this road.” The prisoner began laughing. ‘*“ Who knows?” he replied, with a stress on his words; “ perhaps it was more precious gaine than you may fancy, and of which you would like to have your share,”’ “Themonk gave a slight start, and opened his eyes as awaking. ‘What?’ he said, addressing the captain, and stifling a yawn. ‘*‘ Youare not asleep, Don Juan?” ‘*Not yet,’ the latteranswered, ‘‘l am question- ing the two men my vanguard arrested some hours Oo. ** Ah!’ the monk remarked with a disdainful glance at the strangers, “‘these poor devils do not appear to me very alarming.”’ ** You think so?” , ‘“‘Tdo not know what you can have to fear from these men.”’ ‘* Perhaps they are spies?” Fray Antonio assumed a paternal air. ‘Spies!’ he said; ““do you fear an ambuscade?"’ ‘* Under the circumstances in which we now are, that supposition is not so improbable, I fancy.”’ ‘* Nonsense! in a country like this, and with the escort you have at your service, that would be ex- traordinary; moreover, these two men let them- selves be captured without resistance, as I heard, when they might easily have escaped.”’ Xs t is true,”’ “It is evident, then, that they had no bad inten- tions. Hf I were you I would quietly let them go where they pleased.”’ ‘Ts that your advice?” ‘* Indeed it is.”’ “You seem to take a great interest in these two strangers.”’ ““I? Not the least in the world. I only tell you what is right, that’s all; now you can act as you please. I wash my hands of it.”’ ; “You may be right, still I will not set these per- sons at liberty till they have told me the name of the person they were expecting.”’ “Were they expecting anybody?”’ “They say so, at any rate.’’ | ‘It is true, captain,’’ said the person who had hitherto spoken; ‘‘but though we knew you were coming, it was not you we were waiting for.’’ ‘** Who-was it,. then?” **Do you insist on knowing?”’ * Oertainly.”’ * Then answer, Fray Antonio,’ the prisoner said with a grin; ‘‘for you alone can reveal the name the captain asks of us.’’ “I? the monk said with a start af passion, and turning pale as a corpse. “ Ah, ah!’’ the captain said, as he turned to him, “this is beginning to grow interesting.” It was a singular scene nag oe by the four men standing round the fire, whose flame fantastically lit up their faces. he captain carelessly smoked his cigarette, while looking sarcastically at the monk, on whose face im- udence and fear were fighting a battle, every inci- ent in which was easy to read; the two- hunters, with their hands crossed over the muzzles of their long rifles, smiled cunningly, and seemed to be quiet- ly en oying the embarrassment of the man whom the ad placed in this terrible dilemma, Don't pretend to look so surprised, Padre Anto- nio,’’ the prisoner then at length said; ‘you know very well we were expecting you.”’ ‘Me?’ the monk said in a choking voice; ‘ the scoundrel is mad, on my soul.”’ y “I am not mad, padre, and I will trouble you not to = a a ape toward me,’’ the prisoner Fr . * Coun: ve in,’’ the other, who had hitherto been silent, cried coarsely; ‘‘I do not care to dance at the end of a rope for your good pleasure.” “* Which will inevitably happen,’ the captain re- marked quietly, “if you do not decide, caballeros, on giving me a cl@arand explicit explanation of your conduct.”’ “There you see, Senor Frayle,’’ the prisoner con- tinued, * our position is growing delicate; come, be- have like a man.” ) “Oh!” the monk exclaimed furiously, ‘‘I have fallen into a horrible trap.” “Enough,” the captain said in a thundering voice; ‘this farce has lasted only too long, Padre Antonio. It is not you who have fallen into a trap, but you tried to draw me into one, I have known you fora long time, and possess the most circumstantial de- tails about the plans you were devising. It is a dangerous game you have been pore for a lon time; a man cannot serve Gop and the devil simul- taneously, without all being discovered at last; still, I wished to confront you with these worthy men, in order to confound _ and make the mask fall from your hypocritical face.” At this rude apostrophe the monk was for a momert stunned, crushed as he was beneath the weight ot the charges brought against him; at length he raised his head and turned to the captain. ‘Of what am I accused?” he asked haughtily. Don Juan smiled oontemptuously. “You are accused,” he replied, “of having wished to lead the conducta I command into an am- bush formed by you, and where at this moment your worthy acolytes are waiting to massacre and robus. What will you oy to that?” ““Nothing,’’ he answered, dryly. “You are right, for your denials would not be accepted. Still, now that you are convicted by your own confession, you will not escape without an eternal recollection of our meeting.” — “Take care of what you are about to do, senor captain; I belong to the church, and this gown ren- ders me inviolable.” | } Ss = — = — ” o - ——EE . —— — ° ss io } m smile contracted the captain’s lips, _ No matter for that,” he replied, “it cal ” stripped off you. tis Met of the troopers and arrieros, aroused by the loud voices of the monk and the officer, had gradu- ually drawn nearer, and attentively followed th conversation, The captain pointed to the monk and addressed the soldiers. ‘Strip off the gown that covers that man,” he said; ‘‘fasten him to a catalpa, and give him two hundred lashes with a chicote. ‘‘ Villains!” the monk exclaimed, nearly out of his mind; “‘ any man of yon who dares to lay on me, I curse; he will eternally condemned for having insulted a minister of the altan” The soldiers stopped in terror before this ana- thema, which their ignorance and stupid super- stition robbed them of the courage to brave. The monk folded his arms, and addressed the officer triumphantly— “Wretched madman,” he said, “‘I could punish you for your audacity, but I pardon you. eaven will undertake to avenge me, and you will be pun- ished when your last hour arrives. Farewell! Mak room for me to pass, fellows!”’ The dragoons, confused and timid, fell back slowly and hesitatingly before him; the captain, forced to confess his impotence, clenched his fists, as he looked passionately around him, ‘The monk had all but ed throug the ranks of the soldiers, when he suddenly felt his arm clutched; he turned with the evident intention of severely reprimanding the man who was so auda- cious as to touch him, but the exgroanon of his face suddenly changed on seeing who it was that stopped him, and looked at him craftily, for it was no other than the strange prisoner, the first cause of the insult offered him. ‘One moment, Senor Padre,’’ the hunter said. ‘*IT can understand that these worthy fellows, who are Catholics, should fear your curse, and dare not. lay a hand on you through their dread of eternal flames, but with me it is different, I am a heretic, as you know, hence I run no risk in taking off your gown, and, with your permission, I wil) do you that. slight service,’’ ' ‘‘Oh!” the monk replied, as he ground his teeth, ‘*T will kill you, John, 1 will kill you, villain)”’ ‘‘ Nonsense, threatened people live a one while,”” John replied, as he forced him to take off his monk's. gown, ‘There,’ he continued, ‘now, my fine fellows, you can carry out your ecaptain’s orders in perfect safety; this man is no more to you than the first comer.”’ The hunter's bold action suddeniy broke the spell that enchained the soldiers. So soon as the much- feared gown no longer covered the monk's shoul- ders, listening to neither _phapers nor threats, they seized the culprit, fastened him, in spite of his cries, securely to a catalpa, and conscientiously adminis- tered the two hundred lashes decreed by the captain, while the hunters played their pars by counsing. the blows and laughing loudly at the contortions of the wretched man whom pain caused to writhe like a serpent. At the one hundred and twenty-eighth lash the monk became silent; his nervous system being com- letely overthrown, rendered him insensible; still, e did not faint, his teeth were clinched, a white foam esca from his crisped lips, he looked fixedly before him without seeing anything, and giving no other signs of existence than the heavy sighs which at intervals upheld his muscular chest. When the punishment was ended, and he was un- fastened, he fell to the ground like a log, and lay there motionless. His robe was handed back to him, and he was left pie there, no one troubling himself further about The two hunters then went off, after talking to the captain for some minutes in a low voice. j a rest of the night passed away without inci- en A few minutes before sunrise, the soldiers and ar- rieros prepared to load the mules, and pare everything for the start. - ‘Stay,’ the captain suddenly exclaimed, ‘‘ where is the monk? we cannot abandon him thus; lay him on a mule, and we will leave him at the first rancho we come to.” The soldiers hastened to obey, and look for Padre Antonio, but all their search was in vain; he had dis- appeared, and left no trace of his flight. bon Juan frowned at the news, but, after a mo- ment’s reflection, he shook his head carelessly. ** All the better," he said, ‘‘he would have been in our way.” The conducta herewith started again. CHAPTER XVI. A POLITICAL SKETCH. BEFORE precesaae further, we will in a few words what was the political situation of Texas at the moment when the story we have undertaken to tell took place. Du the nish domination, the Texane claimed their liberty, arms in hand; but after various successes, they were definitively crushed the battle of Medina, on August 13th, “1815, a tetas date, by Colonel Arredondo, commanding the ‘ ment of Estremadura, who ‘was joined by tho ih. tia of the State of Cohabuila. that period up to the second Mexican Revolution, Texas re- a aie wees =~. a yoke of the peor oe e, and lef e ess to the es — — of Comanche Indians. panes e Unit 8 on many occasions raised claims to that country, declaring that the natural frontiers of Mexico and the Co ederation were the Rio Bravo; but compelled in 1819 to allow poonec ones § that their claims were not founded, they emplo roundabout means to seize on this rich territory, and incorporate it in their borders. It was at that time they displayed that te and tiently Machiavellian policy, which fin led ta heir wr In 1821, the first American emigrants made their nce, timidly, and almost incognito, on the g clearing the land, colo becoming a few years so Somaiiel: that Ses they made nt progress to form a com mass of nearly 50,000 individuals. The Mexitane he (EO) cs ( micboo G (@) , 5 he | — ‘ Lt L_ + "8) é + , als we