The Adventurers

CHAPTER XI
GENERAL BUSTAMENTE

Don Tadeo was right, when, on seeing General Bustamente pass, he said he was on his way to visit his mistress. It was, in fact, to the residence of the Linda the General was going. On arriving at the gate, one of his men dismounted, and knocked. But no one answered; and at a sign from the General, the soldier knocked louder. But still all remained silent; there was no movement within. He began to feel uneasy. This silence was the more extraordinary from the General's visit having been announced, and he was, consequently, expected. "Oh! oh!" he said, "What is going on here? Knock again, Diego, and knock in a way to make yourself heard!"

The soldier knocked with all his strength, but still uselessly. Don Pancho's brow contracted; he began to fancy some misfortune must have occurred.

"Break open the door!" he cried.

The order was instantly obeyed; and the General, followed by his escort, entered the house. In the Patio all dismounted.

"Be prudent," said the General in a low voice to the corporal who commanded the escort; "place sentinels everywhere, and keep a sharp look-out whilst I search the house."

After giving these orders, the General took his pistols from his holsters, and, followed by some of his lancers, entered the house; but everywhere the silence of death prevailed. After passing through several apartments, he arrived at a door, which, being a little ajar, allowed a stream of light to pass. From the other side of this door proceeded something like stifled groans. With a kick of his foot, one of the lancers dashed open the door; the General entered, and a strange spectacle presented itself to his astonished eyes! Doña Maria, tightly bound, and gagged, was fastened to the foot of a damask bed, saturated with blood. The furniture was broken and disordered, whilst two dead bodies, lying in a pool of blood, made it evident that the room had been the scene of a desperate conflict.

The general ordered the dead bodies to be removed, and then desired to be left alone with the lady. As soon as the lancers had departed he shut the door, and approaching the Linda, he hastened to release her from her bonds. She was senseless.

On turning round to place the pistols he had retained in his hands on the table, he drew back with astonishment, and almost with terror, as he perceived the dagger standing erect in the middle of it. But this instinctive feeling lasted only a moment. He went quickly up to the table, seized the dagger, which he carefully drew out, and eagerly took up the paper it had pinned down.

"The tyrant Don Pancho Bustamente is cited at the expiration of ninety-three days!

"THE DARK-HEARTS."

he read in a loud, harsh tone, and then crushed the paper violently in his hand. "Sangre de Dios! Will these demons always make a mock of me? Oh! they know that I show no mercy, and that those who fall into my hands – "

"Escape!" said a hollow voice, which made him start involuntarily.

He turned sharply round, and beheld the Linda, with her vicious eye fixed upon him with a demoniacal expression. He sprang towards her.

"Thank God!" he cried warmly, "you are again restored to your senses. Are you sufficiently recovered to explain the scene that has taken place here?"

"A terrible scene, Don Pancho!" she replied, in a tremulous voice; "a scene, the bare remembrance of which still freezes me with terror."

"Are you strong enough to describe it to me?"

"I hope so," she replied. "Listen to me attentively, Don Pancho, for what I have to tell concerns you, perhaps, more than me."

"You mean this insolent summons, I suppose?" he remarked, showing it.

She glanced over it, and replied —

"I did not even know that such a paper had been addressed to you. But listen to me attentively."

"In the first place, have the goodness to explain to me what you just now said."

"Everything in its turn, General; I will not fail to explain everything, for the vengeance I thirst for must be complete."

"Oh!" he said, a flash of hatred gleaming from his eye, "set your heart at ease on that head, – whilst avenging myself, I will avenge you."

The Linda related to the General what had passed between her and Don Tadeo in the fullest details – how the Dark-Hearts had snatched him from her hands, and the threats they had addressed to her on leaving her. But, with that talent which all women possess, of making themselves appear innocent in everything, she represented as a miraculous piece of awkwardness on the part of the soldiers charged to shoot him, the fact of Don Tadeo being alive after his execution. She said that, attracted by the hope of avenging himself upon her, whom he suspected of being no stranger to his condemnation, he had introduced himself unseen into her house, where by a strange chance she happened to be alone, having that evening permitted her servants to be present at a romeria (a fête), from which they were not to return before three o'clock.

The General had not for an instant the idea of doubting the veracity of his mistress. The situation in which he had found her, – the incredible news of the resurrection of his most implacable enemy, altogether so confused his thoughts, that suspicion had no time to enter his mind. He strode about the room with hasty steps, revolving in his head the most extravagant projects for seizing Don Tadeo, and, above all, for annihilating the Dark-Hearts, – those never-to-be-caught Proteuses, who so incessantly crossed his path, thwarted all his plans, and always escaped him. He plainly saw what additional strength the escape of Don Tadeo would give to the patriots, and how much it would complicate his political embarrassments, by placing at their head a resolute man who could have no longer any considerations to preserve, but would wage war to the knife with him. His perplexity was extreme; he instinctively felt that the ground beneath him was mined, that he was walking over a volcano, but he had no power to denounce to public opprobrium the enemies who conspired his ruin. The recital made by his mistress had produced the effect of a thunderclap upon him; he knew not what measures to employ in order to counteract the numerous plots in action against him on all sides, and simultaneously. The Linda did not take her eyes off him for a moment, but watched upon his countenance the various feelings aroused by what she told him.

We will, in a few words, introduce to the reader this personage, who will play so important a part in the course of the following history.² General Don Pancho Bustamente, who has left in Chili a reputation for cruelty so terrible that he is generally called El Verdugo, or the executioner, was a man of from thirty-five to thirty-six years of age, although he looked near fifty, a little above the middle height, well made, and of good carriage, announcing altogether great corporeal strength. His features were tolerably regular, but his prominent forehead, his grey eyes deeply set beneath the brows, and close to his hook nose, his large mouth and high cheek bones, gave him something of a resemblance to a bird of prey. His chin was square, an indication of obstinacy; his hair and moustache, beginning to be streaked with grey, were trained and cut in military fashion. He wore the magnificent uniform, covered at every seam with gold embroidery, of a general officer.

Don Bustamente was the son of his own works, which was in his favour. At first a simple soldier, he had, by exemplary conduct and more than common talents, raised himself, step by step, to the highest rank of the army, and had in the last instance been named minister-at-war. Then the jealousy which had been silent whilst he was confounded with the crowd, was unchained against him. The General, instead of despising calumnies which might have died out of themselves, gave them some degree of foundation, by inaugurating a system of severity and cruelty. Devoured by an ambition which nothing could satisfy, all means were deemed good by him for the attainment of an object he secretly aimed at, which was the overthrow of the republic and government of Chili, and the formation of Bolivia and Araucania into one state, of which he would cause himself to be proclaimed Protector – an object which, besides the almost insurmountable difficulties it presented, ever appeared – owing to the universal hatred which the General had aroused against himself – to slip further from his grasp each time he thought he was about grasping it.

At the moment we bring him on the scene, he found himself in one of the most critical circumstances of his political career. He had in vain shot the patriots en masse– conspiracies, as always happens in such cases, succeeded each other without interruption, and the system of terror which he had inaugurated, far from intimidating the population, appeared, on the contrary, to urge them on to revolt. Secret societies were formed; and one of these, the most powerful and the most terrible, that of the Dark-Hearts, enveloped him in invisible nets in which he struggled in vain. He foresaw that if he did not hasten on the coup d'état he meditated, he should be lost beyond redemption. After a rather long silence, the General placed himself by the side of the Linda.

"We will be avenged!" he said, in a deep tone; "be but patient."

"Oh!" she replied, bitterly, "my vengeance has commenced!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have caused Doña Rosario del Valle, the woman Don Tadeo de Leon loves so passionately, to be carried off."

"You have done that?" said the General.

"Yes, and in ten minutes she will be here."

"Oh! oh!" he exclaimed; "and do you mean to keep her with you?"

"With me!" she cried; "No, I thank you, General. I hear that the Pehuenches are very fond of white women; I will make them a present of her."

"Oh!" Don Pancho muttered, "women will be always our masters! they alone know how to revenge themselves! But," he added aloud, "have you no fear lest the man to whom you have confided this mission should betray you?"

She smiled with terrible irony,

"No," she said; "that man hates Don Tadeo more than I do, if that be possible; he is working out his own vengeance."

At the same instant steps were heard in the chamber preceding the room.

"You will see, General – here is my emissary. Come in!" the Linda cried.

A man appeared; his face was pale and haggard; and his clothes, torn and disordered, were stained in various places with blood.

"Well!" she exclaimed, in a tone of intense anxiety.

"All has failed," answered the man, breathless with haste and terror.

"What!" the Linda shouted, with a cry like that of a wild beast.

"There were five of us," the man continued, quite unmoved, "and we carried off the señorita. All went on well till within a short distance from this house, when we were attacked by four demons, who came I know not whence."

"And you did not defend yourselves, miserable cowards!" interrupted the General violently.

The bandit gave him a cold look, and continued impassively —

"Three of our number are dead, and the leader and myself wounded."

"And the girl?" the Linda asked passionately.

"The girl was recaptured by our opponents. The Englishman has sent me to you to learn if you still wish him to carry off Doña Rosario?"

"Would he attempt it again?"

"Yes. And this time, he says, he is certain to succeed if the conditions are the same."

A smile of contempt played round the lips of the courtezan.

"Repeat to him this," she replied; "not only shall he receive the hundred ounces if he succeeds, but, still further, he shall have a hundred more; and that he may be in no doubt of my promise," she added, rising and taking from a drawer a rather heavy bag which she handed to the bandit, "give him this; there is the half of the sum, but bid him despatch!"

The man bowed.

"As to you, Juanito," she continued, "as soon as you have acquitted yourself of this mission, return, for I shall, perhaps, want you here. Begone!"

The bandit disappeared instantly.

"Who is that man?" the General asked.

"A poor devil whom I saved some years ago from certain death. He is devoted to me, body and soul."

"Hum!" said the general, "he has rather too cunning an eye not to be a rogue."

The Linda shrugged her shoulders.

"You are mistrustful of everybody," she said.

"That is the way not to be deceived."

"Or to be deceived the more easily."

"Perhaps so. Well, you see this abduction, so admirably planned, and the success of which was certain, has failed."

"I can only repeat what you yourself said to me just now."

"What is that?"

"Patience! But, pray, what are your present plans?" The General rose.

"Whilst you are carrying on against our enemies," he said, in a low, stern tone, "a guerilla warfare of ambuscades and treacheries, I, on my part, will wage an open war against them – a war in the face of the sun, but as merciless as yours. Their blood shall flow in streams over all the territories of the Republic. The Dark-Hearts have summoned me in ninety-three days. Well, I take up the gauntlet they have thrown to me."

"That is well!" the Linda replied. "And now let us so arrange our plans that they may not fail like their predecessors. We must come to an end with these miserable plotters, and in doing so, take a revenge that will make an impression on others."

"It shall be a vengeance! I will stake my head on the game. Oh," he added, "I hold them! I have found the means I sought to make them all fall into my hands; let them sleep for a while in deceitful security, but their awakening shall be terrible!"

And, having saluted the Linda with the greatest courtesy, the General retired.

"I leave you a few soldiers to watch over your safety till the return of your servants," he said, as he went out.

"Thank you, thank you!" she replied, with a bland smile.

The Linda, when left alone, instead of seeking the repose so necessary after the excitement of the night, remained plunged in deep thought. At sunrise she was still in the same place, in the same position. She was still reflecting, but her features became animated; a sinister smile curled her pale lips; and her eyes, though apparently fixed upon vacancy, emitted portentous flashes. Suddenly she sprang up, and passing her hand rapidly over her brow, as if to efface its wrinkles, she cried, in a tone of triumph —

"And I, too, will succeed!"

CHAPTER XII
THE SPY

When the young lady was delivered, the four men set off as fast as they could go, with regard to her ease. In ten minutes they were out of the city, and with the change of the road their speed was increased. The route they took was that which leads to Talca.

"Eh, eh!" Valentine said, laughing, to his foster brother; "we seem to be playing at prisoners' bars. We enter the city by one gate, to leave it immediately by another. We shall not have an opportunity of seeing the capital of Chili this time."

With the exception of these few words, to which Louis only replied by a careless shrug of the shoulders, no other conversation took place during the hour which their rapid journey lasted. By the pale light of the moon the trees on each side of the road seemed to defile like a legion of melancholy phantoms. Ere long the white walls of a chacra (large farm) stood out upon the horizon.

"Here we are," said Don Gregorio, pointing with his finger.

They reached the house in a few minutes. The gate was open, but a man was standing evidently on the watch. The fugitives dashed like a hurricane into the patio, and the gates were immediately closed behind them.

"What has happened, Tio Pepito?" Don Gregorio asked, before he was quite off his horse, of the man who appeared to have expected him.

"Nothing, mi amo" (my master), "nothing of consequence," replied Tio Pepito, a little thick-set man, with a round face, lit up by two grey eyes, sparkling with cunning.

"Have not the persons I expected arrived?"

"Pardon me, mi amo. They have been at the chacra more than an hour. They say they must begone immediately; they are waiting for you impatiently."

"That's well. Announce my arrival to them, and tell them I shall be at their service in two or three minutes."

The mayoral, for this man was the major-domo of the chacra, entered the house without reply. Don Tadeo also, who seemed to know perfectly well where he was, disappeared, bearing the young girl in his arms. The two Frenchmen were left alone with the chacrero, who advanced towards them.

"Now that you are, as we suppose, for the present at least, in safety, sir," said Valentine, "we have only to take our leave of you."

"Not so!" Don Gregorio exclaimed; "it must not be so. Diable! as you Frenchmen say," he added, smiling; "chance does not so often procure us such friends as you, to allow us to part with you thus when we have met you. You will remain here, if you please. Our acquaintance must not terminate so."

"If our continuing here can be of any service to you," Louis replied, courteously, "we are at your command."

"Thank you," he said, in a slightly agitated voice, and pressing their hands warmly; "I shall never forget that I owe to you the lives of myself and my friend. In what way can I be of service to you?"

"Well," Valentine said, laughing, "in every way, and no way, as it may happen, caballero."

"Explain yourself," Don Gregorio replied.

"Dame! it is clear enough; we are strangers in this country."

"When did you arrive?" the Chilian said, examining them attentively.

"Faith! very recently. You are the first persons we have spoken to."

"That is well," Gregorio said, slowly. "I told you that I was at your service, did I not?"

"Yes, and we sincerely thank you; although we hope never to have occasion to remind you of this obliging offer."

"I perfectly appreciate your delicacy; but a service like the one you have rendered me and my friend is an eternal bond. Take no heed of your future fortune, it is made."

"Pardon me, pardon me!" said Valentine, earnestly; "we do not understand one another at all; you mistake us. We are not men who expect to be paid for having acted as our hearts dictated. You owe us nothing."

"I do not propose or pretend to pay you, gentlemen. I only wish, in order to attach you to me, to propose to you to share my good or evil fortune; in a word, I offer myself to you as a brother."

"In that case we at once accede," said Louis, "and will endeavour to prove ourselves worthy of such an offer."

"I have no doubt you will. Only I beg you not to be misled by my words; the life I am leading at present is full of perils."

"I can suppose that," said Valentine, with a laugh. "The scene at which we have been present, and the denoûment of which we perhaps hastened, makes it pretty evident that your existence is not of the most peaceful nature."

"What you have as yet seen is nothing. Do you know nobody in this country?"

"Nobody."

"Your political opinions, then, are unformed?"

"As regards Chili, completely."

"Bravo!" Don Gregorio exclaimed, with delight; "if we agree on that point our compact will be for life and death."

"We do agree," said Valentine, laughing; "and if you conspire – "

"Well?" the Chilian asked, fixing an inquiring look upon him.

"Why, we will conspire, too, pardieu! That is agreed."

The three men exchanged a cordial pressure of the hand, and then Don Gregorio called the major-domo to conduct them to the chamber which was prepared for them.

"Good night! or rather good morning!" he said, on quitting them.

"Come!" said Valentine, rubbing his hands, "matters are going on well. We shall not want for amusement here."

"Hum!" Louis replied, with a tone of something like uneasiness; "conspire!"

"Well, and what better?" said Valentine. "Does that frighten you? Remember, my friend, that the best fishing is in troubled waters."

"In that case," Louis remarked, taking up the gay humour of his companion, "if my presentiments are just, ours will be miraculous."

"I expect so, firmly," said Valentine, bidding good night to the major-domo, who retired, after bowing respectfully.

The cuarto (chamber) in which the young men found themselves, was whitewashed, and entirely destitute of furniture, with the exception of two oak frames furnished with dressed hides, which served as beds, a massive table with twisted feet, and four seats covered with leather. In a corner of the room burned a little green wax light before a badly-engraved print supposed to represent the Virgin.

"Eh!" said Louis, casting a glance around him, "our friends, the Chilians, do not seem to consult comfort much."

"Bah!" Valentine replied, "we have all that we require. A man can sleep soundly anywhere when he is fatigued. This chamber is better than the bivouac we were threatened with."

"You are right. Let us take a little rest then, for we don't know what tomorrow has in reserve for us."

In a quarter of an hour they were both fast asleep. At the moment the Frenchmen went into the house with the major-domo, Don Tadeo came out by another door.

"Well?" Don Gregorio asked, anxiously.

"She is asleep. Her terror is abated," Don Tadeo replied. "The joy she experienced at seeing me, whom she believed dead, brought about a very salutary crisis."

"I am glad to hear it! In that quarter, then, we may be at ease?"

"Completely."

"Do you feel yourself strong enough to be present at an important interview?"

"Is it necessary that I should be present?"

"I think it quite right that you should hear the communications that one of my emissaries is about to make me."

"It is very imprudent of you," said Don Tadeo, "to receive such a man in your own house!"

"Oh! do not alarm yourself! I have known him for a long time. Besides, he is not aware whose house he is in; he was brought hither blinded, by two of our brethren. In addition to which, we shall be masked."

"Well! since you desire it, I am at your commands."

The two friends, after having covered their faces with black velvet masks, entered the apartment in which were the persons who waited for them. This apartment, which served as a dining room, was very large, and furnished with a long table; it was faintly illumined by two sconces, in which burned small candles of yellow tallow, yielding so doubtful a light that objects could be seen but indistinctly. Three men, wrapped in variegated ponchos, and with broad-brimmed hats pulled down over their eyes, were carelessly smoking their slender papelitos, whilst warming themselves round a copper brasero, placed in the middle of the apartment, and in which some olive-stones were slowly burning. At the entrance of the leaders of the Dark-Hearts, these men rose.

"Why," asked Don Tadeo, who at the first glance recognized the emissary, "why did you not wait, Don Pedro, for the meeting tomorrow, at the Quinta Verde, to communicate to the council the revelations you have to make?"

The man thus named as Don Pedro bowed respectfully. He was an individual of about thirty-five years of age. He was tall, and his countenance, as sharp as the blade of a knife, wore a cunning, roguish expression.

"What I have to state only indirectly concerns the Dark-Hearts," he said.

"Then, of what importance is it to us?" Don Gregorio interrupted him.

"But it greatly concerns the leaders, particularly the King of Darkness."

"Explain yourself then, for he is before you," Don Tadeo remarked, taking a step forward.

Pedro darted a look at him which seemed to endeavour to penetrate through the tissue of his mask.

"What I have to say will be brief," he replied, – "I leave to you the care of judging of its importance. General Don Bustamente will be present at the meeting tomorrow."

"Are you sure of that?" the two conspirators exclaimed with a degree of astonishment that denoted incredulity.

"It was I who persuaded him to do so."

"You?"

"Yes, I."

"Are you ignorant, then," Don Tadeo exclaimed with great warmth, "in what manner we punish traitors?"

"I am no traitor; on the contrary, I deliver into your hands your most implacable enemy."

Don Tadeo replied only by a suspicious glance.

"The General then is ignorant?"

"Of everything," said Don Pedro.

"With what purpose, then, does he wish to introduce himself among us?"

"Can you not guess? For that of obtaining your secret."

"But he risks his life."

"Do you forget that every adept must be introduced by a sponsor, who alone knows him? No one sees his face. Well, I introduce him," he added, with a smile of strange significance.

"That is true. But if he should suspect you of treachery?"

"I must undergo the consequences; but he will not suspect me."

"Why not?" Don Gregorio asked.

"Because," the spy replied, with a cynical smile, "for ten years the General has employed me, and during those ten years he has had only cause to praise me for the services I have rendered him."

A momentary silence followed.

"Here!" said Don Gregorio, after a long pause, "this time it is not ten ounces, but twenty, that you have earned. Continue to be faithful to us."

And he placed a heavy purse in his hands. The spy seized it with a gesture of avidity, and concealed it quickly under his poncho.

"You shall have no reproach to make me," he replied, with a bow.

"I hope we shall not," said Don Tadeo, with difficulty repressing an expression of disgust. "Only remember, we should be merciless."

"I know it."

"In that case, farewell."

"Farewell till tomorrow."

The men who had brought him, and who during the conversation had remained motionless, at a sign from Don Gregorio approached the spy, bandaged his eyes again, and led him away.

"Is that fellow a traitor?" asked Don Gregorio, as he listened to the retreating steps of the horses.

"It is our duty to suppose him one," the King of Darkness replied, gravely.

The two friends, instead of seeking the repose which must have been so necessary to them, talked together for a long time, in order to arrange all the measures of safety which were required by the importance of the scene about to take place on the morrow at the meeting of the conspirators. In the meantime Don Pedro had been quickly led back to Santiago. On arriving at one of the gates, his guides left him, disappearing in opposite directions. As soon as he was alone, he removed the handkerchief from his eyes.

"Hum!" he said, with a sinister smile, as he tossed up in his right hand the purse Don Gregorio had given him. "Twenty ounces make a purse of gold. Now let us see if General Bustamente is as liberal as his enemies. By the Virgin! the news I carry him are worth something to him! Let us try to get the best price for them."

After having cast his eyes around to see if the coast was clear, he set off at a sharp trot towards the government palace, muttering to himself —

"Bah! times are hard. If a man did not manoeuvre a little, he would find no means of bringing up his family honestly."

This reflection, of a rather dubious morality, was accompanied by a grimace, the expression of which would have given Don Tadeo cause for suspicion if he had seen it.