The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley

They had made a turn or two of the grounds, thus conversing, when both came to a sudden stop, simultaneously uttering exclamations of alarm, “Santissima!” and “Madre de Dios!”

“What can it be?” gasped Doña Luisa. “Is it a man?”

No wonder she should so doubtingly interrogate, since her question referred to that strange creature on the top of the wall, seeming more ape than human being.

That he was human, however, was to be proved by his being gifted with the power of speech, put forth on the instant after. Before the Countess could make answer to the question (of course overheard by him), he interposed, saying —

“Pray, don’t be alarmed, your ladyships, at a poor miserable creature like me. I know that my body is anything but shapely; but my soul – that, I trust, is different. But, Señoritas, surely you remember me?”

While speaking, he had raised himself into an upright attitude, and the moonlight falling upon him showed his shape in all its grotesqueness of outline. This, with his words, at once recalled their having seen him before. Yes; it was the enano, whom the big Texan had swung up to the box of their carriage.

Astonishment hindering reply to his interrogatory, he continued —

“Well, your ladyships, I’m sorry you don’t recognise me; the more from my being one of your best friends, or, at all events, the friend of your friends.”

“Of whom do you speak, sir?” asked the Countess, first to recover composure, the Doña Luisa echoing the interrogatory. Both were alike anxious for the answer, better than half divining.

“Two worthy gentlemen, who, like my poor self, had the misfortune to get shut up in the Acordada; more than that, set to work in the filthy sewers. Thanks to the luck of your ladyship’s carriage coming past at a convenient time we all escaped; and so far have been successful in eluding the search that’s been made for us.”

“You have succeeded – all?” both asked in a breath their eagerness throwing aside reserve.

“Oh yes; as I’ve said, so far. But it’s been hard times with us in our hiding-place; so hard, indeed, we might well have wished ourselves back in the prison.”

“How so, sir? Tell us all! You needn’t fear to speak out; we’ll not betray you.”

“Por Dios! I’m not afraid of your ladyships doing that. Why should I, since I’m here on account of your own friends, and on an errand of mercy?”

“An errand of mercy?”

“Yes. And one of necessity as well. Ah! that far more.”

“Go on, sir! Please tell us what it is!”

“Well, Señoritas, I’ve been deputed on a foraging expedition. For we’re in a terrible strait – all four of us. You may remember there were four.”

“We do. But, how in a terrible strait?”

“How? Why, for want of food; starving. Up in the mountains, where we’ve been hiding for now nearly a month, all we’ve had to live upon was wild fruits and roots; often eating them raw, too. We daren’t any of us venture down, as the roads all round have been beset by spies and soldiers. It’s only in sheer desperation I’ve stolen through them; the Señor Don Ruperto sending me to San Augustin in the hope I might be able to pick up some provisions. I was just slipping the village the back way, when an alguazil coming along made it necessary for me to climb up here and hide myself. The unlucky part of it all is, that even if I get safe in, I haven’t the wherewith to buy the eatables, and must beg them. That I fear won’t be easy; people are so hard-hearted.”

For a time his surprised listeners stood silent, giving way to sad reflections. Florencio and Ruperto starving!

“May I hope,” continued the lying wretch, “your ladyships will let me look upon this accidental encounter as a God-send, and that you will give me something to buy – ”

“Oh, sir,” interrupted the Countess, “we will give you that. Luisa, have you any money in your purse? I haven’t in mine – nothing to signify.”

“Nor I either – how unfortunate! We must – ”

“Never mind money, your ladyships; money’s worth will do quite as well. A reloja, rings, anything in the way of jewellery. I chance to know a place in the village where I can convert them into cash.”

“Here, take this!” cried the Countess, handing him her watch, the same which had been hypothecated to José, but redeemed by a money payment.

“And this!” said the Doña Luisa, also holding out a watch, both of which he speedily took possession of.

“’Tis very generous of your ladyships,” he said, stowing them away among his rags; “the proceeds of these ought to support us for a long time, even allowing for the reduced rate I’ll have to accept from the pawnbroker. Afterwards we must do the best we can.”

As he spoke, his little sparkling eyes were avariciously bent upon certain other objects he saw scintillating in the moonlight – bracelets, rings upon their fingers and in their ears. The hint was hardly needed. Enough for them the thought that more help might be required by those dear to them, and at a time when they could not extend it.

In less than five minutes after both had divested themselves of every article in the way of gold or gems adorning them. They even plucked the pendants from their ears, thrusting all indiscriminately into the outstretched hands of the hunchback.

“Gracias! – mil gracias!” he ejaculated, crowding everything into his pocket. “But your ladyships will scarce care to accept thanks from me. ’Twill be more to your satisfaction to know that your generosity will be the saving of valuable lives, two of them, if I mistake not, very dear to you. Oh! won’t the Señores Don Ruperto and Don Florencio be delighted at the tale I shall take back – the Virgin seeing me safe! Not for the provisions I may carry, but how I obtained the means of purchasing them. But as time’s pressing, Señorita, I won’t say a word more, only Adios!”

Without waiting for permission to depart, or rejoinder of any kind, he slipped down from the wall, and disappeared on its other side.

It was an abrupt leave-taking, which alike surprised and disappointed them. For they had many questions to ask, and intended asking him – many anxieties they wished set at rest.

Chapter Fifty

An Encounter with Old Acquaintances

Passing out of the San Augustin towards the city, the great National Road, as already said, touches upon the Pedregal, the lava rocks here and there rising cliff-like over it. On the other side are level meadows stretching to the shore of the Laguna de Xochimilco; this last overgrown with a lush aquatic vegetation called the cinta, at a distance appearing more pastureland than lake. Excellent pasturage is afforded on the strip between; that end of it adjacent to the pueblo being apportioned among several of the rich proprietors of villas, who turn their household stock upon it, as milch kine, and horses kept for the saddle or carriage.

Just about the time when the hunchback was abruptly bidding “Adios” to the ladies, a man might have been seen moving along this part of the road at some half-mile distance from the skirts of the village, with face turned cityward. But that he had no intention of journeying so far was evident both by his gait and the character of his dress. He was going at a slow walk, now and then loitering, as if time was of little consequence. Moreover, he was in his shirt sleeves, and without the universal serape, which often serves for both cloak and coat. Otherwise his garb was the ordinary stable wear of a Mexican gentleman’s servant; wide velveteen trousers open along the outer seams, and fended with leather at breech and bottoms. “Batos” and a black glaze hat completed his habiliments, with a scarf of China crape, the chammora, around his waist. Scanning the face shadowed by the broad rim of his sombrero, it was seen to be that of José, Don Ignacio’s groom; while his errand along that road could be guessed, by seeing what he carried over his arm – a couple of slip halters. The horses, for whom they were intended, were to be seen standing at a gate, a little further, having browsed their fill; a pair of greys, recognisable as the famous frisones; all the easier now from one of them showing a split ear. They had been turned out to cool their hoofs on the soft meadow sward, and he was on his way to take them back to their stable.

Along the other side of the road, for a stretch of some distance, extended the Pedregal, forming a low ridge with a precipitous face towards the causeway. As the cochero got up to where his pets were expecting him, he saw a coyote standing upon the crest cliff, just opposite the horses, in an attitude and with an air as if it had been holding conversation with them. Solely for frolic’s sake, he made a rush towards it, giving a swoop and swinging the halters around his head. Of course, the affrighted animal turned tail, and retreated; instantly disappearing from his sight. The little spurt had carried him in under the shadow of the rocks; and as he faced round to recross the moonlit causeway, he saw coming along it that which, by some mysterious instinct, prompted him to keep his place. After all, no mystery about it; for in the diminutive, crab-like form seen approaching, he recognised the dwarf-hunchback who had shared the box seat with him on that day never to be forgotten.

Nothing had been heard of the creature since, so far as José knew; and therefore it might be supposed his appearance would have been welcome, promising some news of those with whom he had been last seen. But so far from the cochero stepping out into the road to receive him, he but drew closer to the cliff, where an embayment in black shadow promised him perfect concealment.

Soon after Zorillo came shuffling along through the dust, keeping close to the shaded side of the road. Having cleared the skirts of the village, however, he was less careful now. Not likely there would be any one abroad at that hour – for it had gone ten – but if so, there was the Pedregal alongside, to which he could retreat. Evidently he had not seen José as when first seen himself he was turning a corner, and the other had been for some time in shadow.

When nearly opposite the meadow gate he also made a stop, with a start, at perceiving the two horses’ heads stretched over it, one with a cleft ear! His start came through recognition of them.

“Oho!” he exclaimed, “you there, too, my noble frisones? Caspita! this is meeting one’s old acquaintances all in a heap! It now only needs to encounter cochero, and the party will be complete! Well, I may live in hope to see him too, sometime; and won’t there be a reckoning when we’re all together again?”

He was about to pass on, when a clattering of hoofs was heard behind, in the direction of the pueblo, as if horsemen were issuing out of it. Shortly after, a dark clump was seen rounding the corner, and coming on along the white ribband of road. The sabres clanking against stirrup-irons proclaimed it a cavalry troop.

Like a tarantula retreating to its tree-cave, the dwarf darted in under the cliff, there crouching down – so close to José that the latter could have almost touched him with the tips of his fingers. He had no desire to do so, no thought of it; but the very opposite. His wish was to avoid an encounter; and good reason for it, as he was soon after made aware. Fortunately for him, the hunchback neither saw nor had a suspicion of his proximity. With face turned to the road, he was altogether occupied with the party approaching.

The Hussars turned out – an escort of some eight or ten files, with two officers at its head; these riding side by side, and a little in advance. They were chatting gaily and rather vociferously; the voice of him who spoke loudest being well-known to José. For Colonel Santander, whether welcome or not, was a frequent visitor at the casa de campo of Don Ignacio Valverde. And the dwarf now remembered it too, as he did so abandoning all attempt at concealment, and gliding out into the middle of the road.

“Carajo!” simultaneously shouted the two officers, as their horses reared up, snorting at the strange shape so suddenly presented before them. “What the Demonio is it, if not Satan himself?” added Santander.

“No, Señor Coronet,” returned Zorillo. “Not the devil; only a poor creature whom God has cursed by making him in a shape that isn’t altogether fashionable. But just for that reason I trust being recalled to your Excellency’s remembrance – am I not?”

“Ah! You were in the Acordada?”

“Si, Señor Coronet.”

“And ’twas you I saw coupled to the Tejano?”