Kitobni o'qish: «Stoneheart: A Romance», sahifa 13

CHAPTER XVIII.
EL VOLADERO DE LAS ÁNIMAS

We have already said that Don Fernando Carril, or Stoneheart, had passed the greater part of his life in the wilderness. Brought up by the Tigercat in the perilous calling of a bee-hunter, chance had occasionally brought him, most unwillingly we confess, to the district in which he now found himself. Thus he was well acquainted with the Voladero de las Ánimas, even to its inmost recesses. He had often sought shelter in the cavern where Doña Hermosa was now a prisoner, and found it again without difficulty, although the access to it was so well masked by certain features of the mountain, that any other would have been some time in discovering it. The cavern, one of the greatest curiosities of this part of the country; contains several chambers, extending far into the hill, and two broad passages, which terminate in two apertures, like gigantic windows, exactly under the peak of the Voladero, where they hang at a height of a thousand feet over the plain; the conformation of the mountain being so singular that, looking down from them, nothing is to be seen but the tops of the trees below.

Stoneheart entered the cavern, which by another remarkable peculiarity, was lighted throughout its whole extent by innumerable fissures in the rock, admitting sufficient daylight to enable objects to be perceived at a distance of twenty or twenty-five paces. He was very restless; the conditions imposed by Tigercat depressed his spirit to a degree he could not shake off. He could not help asking himself why the old chief had insisted on his remaining two days with Doña Hermosa on the mountain before he rejoined the camp. He suspected some treachery in these conditions; but of what kind? That was the riddle he could not solve.

He walked slowly through the cavern, looking right and left in the hope of finding her; and, for more than half an hour, could see no indications of her presence.

The sun was already disappearing below the horizon when Stoneheart had issued from the forest; the cavern, sombre enough in the daytime, was at this hour in almost total darkness; so he retraced his steps, to obtain a light for the purpose of resuming a search which otherwise the obscurity rendered impossible. On reaching the entrance to the cavern, he availed himself of the last gleam of daylight to look about him. Some torches of ocote wood were carefully arranged close to the entrance. Producing flint and steel, he speedily procured a light; and, arming himself with a kindled torch, again made his way into the cave. He traversed several chambers without success: and had begun to suspect that the Tigercat had duped him, when he perceived a faint glimmer at some distance in advance of him, which gradually approached, until its light was sufficient to reveal the form of Doña Hermosa.

She too held a torch in her hand. She was walking with a slow and unsteady step, her head sunk on her breast, in an attitude of poignant sorrow. Doña Hermosa came nearer and nearer, till she was within fifty paces of Stoneheart. Uncertain how to attract her attention, he was on the point of calling to her, when she chanced to raise her head. On seeing a man before her, she stopped, and haughtily demanded: "Why have you entered this corridor? Have you forgotten that your chief has forbidden anyone to enter it and annoy me?"

"Forgive me, señorita," replied Stoneheart gently; "the order was unknown to me."

"Heavens!" cried she; "That voice! Is it a a dream?" She dropped her torch, and hastened to approach Stoneheart, who likewise rushed towards her. "Don Fernando!" she exclaimed; "Don Fernando here, in this horrible den! Great God! what further evil is at hand? Have I not suffered enough yet?"

Overcome by emotion, she lost all consciousness, and sank, fainting, into the arms of Stoneheart. Alarmed at the occurrence, and not knowing how to recall her to her senses, he hurried her back to the entrance to the cavern, hoping that the fresh air might restore her. He placed her carefully on a heap of dry leaves, and left her to herself. Stoneheart was a man whose courage reached the verge of temerity. A hundred times he had looked death in the face with a smile; but when he saw the girl lying before him, her features rigid, and pale as death, he trembled like a child; a cold sweat broke out over his forehead, and tears – the first he had ever shed – rolled down his face.

"My God, my God!" he exclaimed; "I have killed her!"

"Who speaks?" said Doña Hermosa in feeble accents, the current of air rushing into the cave having somewhat revived her. "Do I really hear Don Fernando? Can it be he?"

"It is I; it is indeed I, Hermosa. Collect yourself, and forgive me for causing this sudden fright."

"I am not alarmed," she answered; "on the contrary, your presence relieves me, Don Fernando, if your appearance in this dreadful place augurs no new misfortune."

"Calm yourself, señorita," he said, drawing gently near her; "I am no omen of evil; I bring good tidings."

"Why seek to deceive me, my friend? Are not you too a prisoner of the monster in human shape who has kept me captive so long?" She rose; the colour returned to her cheeks. She extended her hand to Stoneheart, who, kneeling, clasped it in both his own, and covered it with kisses. "Now we shall no longer be alone; we shall suffer together," she said, fixing an earnest look upon him.

"Dearest Hermosa, your sufferings are at an end; I do indeed bring you good tidings."

"What is it you say, Don Fernando? Your words are incomprehensible. How can you talk of good tidings, while we are both in the power of the Tigercat."

"No, señorita; you are no longer in his power."

"Free!" she exclaimed in ecstasy; "Is it possible O my father! My father! I shall see you once more!"

"You shall see him very soon, Hermosa. Your father is not far hence, with all you love – Don Estevan and Ña Manuela."

Doña Hermosa fell on her knees, with an expression on her face impossible to describe. Lifting her clasped hands to heaven, she uttered a long, silent, and fervent prayer.

Stoneheart gazed upon her with reverential admiration. The sudden transition from sorrow and despair to this excess of joy excited him infinitely. He felt intensely happy – happier than he had ever known himself before.

When Doña Hermosa rose from her knees, she had regained her calmness. "And now, Don Fernando," she said in gentle accents, "as we are really free, let us sit down outside the cave. Tell me all that has happened since I was torn away from my father."

They left the cavern, and sat down, side by side, on the green turf, canopied by the night, which hung cool and odorous above them; and Stoneheart began his story. It lasted a long time; for Doña Hermosa frequently interrupted him, to make him repeat details concerning Don Pedro, and night had sped away before the recital ended. "It is your turn, señorita," said Stoneheart, as soon as he had finished. "You have now to relate what has happened to you."

"As for me," she replied, with a charming smile, "the month has passed in sorrowful thoughts of those from whom I was torn. But I must be just enough to confess, that the man who bore me away treated me with respect – nay, on several occasions he sought to console me and alleviate my grief, by holding out hopes of my soon seeing those whom I love so dearly."

"The Tigercat's conduct is incomprehensible," said Stoneheart thoughtfully. "Why did he carry you off, when he has restored you to us again with so little demur?"

"It is strange," said she; "what could his object be? But I am tree! Thank Heaven, I shall see my father again!"

"Tomorrow we will go to him."

Doña Hermosa looked at him in surprise.

"Tomorrow!" she exclaimed; "Why not today? Why not at once?"

"Alas!" said he, "I have sworn not to leave this place until tomorrow! The Tigercat would only restore you to liberty on this condition."

"How singular! Why should that man wish to keep us here?"

"I will tell you the reason!" cried Don Estevan, suddenly appearing before them.

"Estevan!" they exclaimed, rushing towards him.

"What happy chance brings you here?" asked Stoneheart.

"It is no chance, brother. God has permitted me to overhear words spoken by the Tigercat, which have given me as clear an insight into his plans as if he himself had revealed them."

"Explain your words, Estevan?"

"Yesterday, when I left you, Fernando, you turned your steps to the cavern, while we retraced ours to the forest. I know not why, but my heart was heavy, and I felt loth to quit you. I could not help fancying that the Tigercat's urbanity covered some deadly purpose against you. So I went slowly down the hill. I happened to turn when I reached the forest, and saw that the chief had ceased to follow us. He had halted a few paces from me. He was rubbing his hands with ferocious delight; his eyes were earnestly fixed on the cave, and I distinctly heard him utter these words: 'At last I am sure of my revenge!' It was like a sudden gleam of light; the diabolical plan the monster had conceived started forth in all its hideousness. Don Fernando, you remember how we became acquainted?"

"I do, Estevan; the remembrance is too near for me to forget it."

"You recollect your conversation on the island with the Tigercat, which I overheard? The insinuations of the man? The implacable hatred to Don Pedro he openly avowed?"

"I recollect it all, Estevan; but to what does it lead?"

"To this, Fernando: the Tigercat, despairing to reach Don Pedro himself, endeavours to strike him through his daughter. Hence the long-concocted plan in which he has made you an involuntary accomplice. You love Doña Hermosa; you have done everything to save her; he proposes to restore her to you on the simple condition of remaining two days here in her company: do you understand me now?"

"It is frightful!" indignantly exclaimed Stoneheart.

Doña Hermosa covered her face with her hands to conceal her tears.

"Forgive the pain I have caused you," continued Estevan. "I wished to save you from yourselves; and I could only do so by bluntly laying his machinations open before you. The question is now, whence this inveterate hatred to Don Pedro? Satan alone can tell. But let us not mind that; his plans are unmasked; we have nothing to fear from him."

"Thanks, Estevan," said Doña Hermosa, holding out her hand.

"But how were you able to return?" cried Stoneheart.

"Easily enough. I had nothing to do but to tell the Tigercat plainly that I did not choose to travel in his company any longer. Our man was thunderstruck at my deliberate desertion; but found no words to oppose me. As for me, I had nothing more to say, so, at the first turn of the road, I left him."

"It was a capital idea, Estevan, and I thank you heartily. But now, what are we to do? I have given my word."

"Nonsense, Fernando! You must be mad. Are we obliged to keep promises which have only been extorted from us to do us harm? If you take my advice, you will leave this place instantly, to thwart any new plots this man may brew."

"True, true!" cried Doña Hermosa. "Estevan, you are right. We will follow your counsel, and go."

"Let us go," said Stoneheart, "since you wish it. As for me, there is nothing I should like better than to leave this accursed cavern. But how are we to get Doña Hermosa through the forest?"

"In the same way I crossed it before," she said firmly.

"How was that?" cried Estevan.

"On a kind of litter, which ought to be here still. It was carried on men's shoulders. You know, the snakes do not spring very high."

"And we will wrap you in a buffalo hide, so that you will be safe from all danger."

Don Estevan went in search of the litter, and soon found it, while Stoneheart got the buffalo hide ready. All was prepared in a few minutes.

"We have not broken the conditions of the treaty," said Estevan to his friend.

"How so?"

"Did you not agree to meet the chief at the camp today, and not before?"

"I did; and it would have been impossible to do so, had we remained here the stated time."

"Well, who knows whether the Tigercat did not take that into account too?" replied Estevan.

This observation gave our three personages ample food for reflection; and they began their journey without any further attempt at conversation.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE HAND OF GOD

We will now return to the hacendero and the Mexican encampment. When Don Pedro awoke in the morning, Ña Manuela reported Stoneheart's departure in company with her son.

"I feared something of the sort," said Don Pedro sighing; "Don Fernando was so preoccupied last night. I am glad your son has gone with him, Manuela, for it is a perilous expedition. God grant they may bring me back my daughter! Yet I cannot help thinking it would have been better to have consulted me before they left. We have here twenty bold men, who would certainly have been able to do more than two unsupported men, however brave they may be."

"I am of a different opinion," replied Ña Manuela. "Surprises are the chief element of wars in the wilderness, and two men can often succeed by means of their apparent weakness, which allows them to pass unnoticed, when numbers would fail. However, they will not be long absent, and we shall have certain news of the niña."

"Please God they be good! Manuela, if I should lose my daughter, in addition to my former woes, I could not survive it."

"Drive away these sombre thoughts, señor; Providence watches over us all. I hope we shall not be abandoned in our affliction."

"After all," said Don Pedro, "as we are forced to remain inactive, we must exert our patience till our stragglers return."

The day passed without any incident worthy of record. El Zapote, who had gone hunting at daybreak, returned with an elk.

The next day, about ten in the morning, an unarmed Indian presented himself before the sentries, demanding speech of Don Pedro. The latter ordered him to be brought forward. The redskin was an Apache, of cunning features and reckless manner. Brought into the presence of the hacendero, who at that moment was talking to the capataz, he stood motionless and with downcast eyes, waiting with the cold impassiveness characteristic of his race, till they should speak to him. The hacendero scrutinised him attentively. The Indian was perfectly indifferent to the scrutiny.

"What does my brother want? What is his name?" asked don Pedro.

"El Zopilote is an Apache brave," replied the redskin; "the sachem of his tribe sends him to the chief of the palefaces."

"I am the chief of the palefaces. Tell your mission to me."

"Hear what the Tigercat says," replied the immoveable Apache.

"The Tigercat!" exclaimed Don Pedro greatly astonished; "What can he want of me?"

"If my father will listen, El Zopilote will tell him."

"I will listen. Speak Zopilote."

"Thus says the Tigercat: a cloud has arisen between the Tigercat and the chief of the palefaces, who have come into the hunting grounds of my tribe. As the beneficent rays of the sun disperse the clouds that obscure the heavens, so, if wise paleface will smoke the calumet of peace with the Tigercat, the cloud between them will disappear, and the war hatchet be buried so deep, that it shall not be found again for a thousand moons and ten. I have said: I await the answer of my father with the beard of snow."

"Indian!" replied Don Pedro, in accents of sadness, "Your chief has done me much harm, yet I know not the cause of his hatred to me. But Heaven forbid I should reject his proposal, if he entertains the wish to end the difference existing between us. Bid him come; and say I am ready to offer reparation for injury I may have done him without my will or knowledge."

The Apache listened with evident attention to the words of the hacendero. When the latter ceased, he answered: "Wagh! My father has spoken well. Wisdom has taken up her abode in him. The chief will come; but who will insure his safety when in the camp of the palefaces, – he alone, with twenty Yarri (Spanish) braves around him!"

"My word of honour, redskin; my word of honour, – which is worth more than all your chief could give me," said Don Pedro haughtily.

"My father's word is good; his tongue is not forked. The Tigercat asks no more; he will come."

Having uttered these words with Indian emphasis, the Apache warrior bowed profoundly, and retired with the same quiet step which marked his coming.

"What do you think of that Luciano?" said Don Pedro, as soon as they were alone.

"By Heavens, señor! I think it conceals some Indian devilry. I fear the white who changes his colour, and turns redskin, a hundred times words than the true Indian. I never liked chameleons."

"Right, Luciano! But we are placed in a difficult position. Before all things I must have my daughter; for her sake I must overlook many things."

"True, señor! Nevertheless, you know as well as I, that the Tigercat is a miscreant without faith or honour. Do not trust him too far."

"I am obliged to trust him. Have I not given my word?"

"You have," growled the capataz; "but I have not given mine!"

"Be cautious, Luciano; and, above all things, do not excite his suspicions."

"Make yourself easy on that score, señor. Your honour is as dear to me as my own; but I dare not leave you without means of defence, though it please you to trust yourself with a wretch as determined as he."

With these words, the capataz cut short the conversation, and left the jacal, to prevent further remarks from his master. "Ha!" said he, as he met El Zapote; "You are the very man I want, my friend!"

"Me, capataz! That is capital! What is to be done?"

"Come with me a while," replied the capataz; "I must tell you the matter where we cannot be overheard."

An hour later, – that is to say, a little after eleven in the morning, – the Tigercat arrived at the camp, as El Zopilote had asserted. The chief was dressed as a gambucino, and carried no weapons – at least, none were visible.

As soon as the sentinels recognised him, they allowed him to pass, and led him to the capataz, who was walking backwards and forwards. The Tigercat cast a scrutinising look around him the moment he entered the camp. Everything seemed in its usual state, and the chief saw nothing to excite suspicion. He approached the capataz.

"What do you want here?" asked Don Luciano roughly.

"I wish to speak to Don Pedro de Luna," quickly replied the Tigercat.

"Good! Follow me; he expects you."

Without further ceremony, the capataz led him to the jacal. "Enter," said he; "you will find Don Pedro there."

"Who is there?" said a voice from within.

"Señor," replied the capataz, "it is the Indian who asked the favour of a conversation with the chief. Come, enter!" he added, addressing the Tigercat.

The latter made no observation, but went into the jacal with the capataz.

"You asked to speak with me," began Don Pedro.

"I did," said the chief in a gloomy tone; "but with you alone."

"This man is one of my oldest servants; he has my entire confidence."

"What I have to say must be told to no other ears than yours."

"Retire, Luciano," said don Pedro; "but remain near at hand."

The capataz cast a look of rage at the Tigercat, and left the jacal grumbling.

"Now that we are alone," said Don Pedro, "you can speak openly to me."

"I intend to do so," said the chief in harsh accents.

"Are you come to speak of my daughter?"

"Of her and others," replied the Tigercat in the same tone.

"All this is a mystery, chief; explain!"

"It will not be long before I do so; for I have longed, panted for the opportunity to meet you face to face. Look at me well, Don Pedro; do you not recognise me?"

"I believe I never saw you before you received me as a guest in the teocali."

The chief laughed savagely. "Have years changed me so much? Has the name of Tigercat obliterated my own so thoroughly that that too is forgotten? As Don Guzman de Ribera became Don Pedro de Luna, why should not Don Leoncio de Ribera become the Tigercat, brother?"

"What words are these?" exclaimed Don Pedro, rising in terror. "What name have you uttered?"

"I have said that which is," coldly answered the chief. "The name I utter is mine."

Don Pedro gazed at him with pitiful regret. "Unhappy man!" he sighed; "How have you fallen so low?"

"You are wrong, brother," replied the Tigercat, with a sneer; "on the contrary, I have risen to be the sachem of an Indian tribe. Long, long have I waited for my revenge! Twenty years I have watched; but today I have it – today it is complete!"

"Your revenge, miserable man!" answered Don Pedro indignantly; "What revenge would you against me? – you, who attempted to seduce my wife; you, who sought to slay me; and who, lastly, to crown your infamy, have borne away my daughter!"

"You forget to name your son, whom I also carried away, – your sin, Don Fernando Carril, in whom I have contrived to excite a passion for his sister, and who has been these two days alone with her at the Voladero de las Ánimas. Aha! Don Guzman, what say you to that revenge?"

"Woe, woe!" exclaimed Don Pedro, wringing his hands in his despair.

"Brother and sister in love with each other; licensed by you, Don Guzman, and married by me! Aha!" and he burst into a horrid laugh, that sounded like the howl of the hyena.

"It is too horrible," cried Don Pedro, in the depths of despair. "It is a lie, wretch! Bandit as you are, you dare not meditate a crime so terrible! You are but a boasting miscreant! Your tale cannot be true; to believe it, would be to doubt the justice of Heaven!"

"You do not believe my words, brother?" replied the Tigercat in a sarcastic tone. "As you please. Here come your children; I hear them entering the camp; ask them."

Don Pedro, half-mad with grief, was rushing out of the jacal when Stoneheart, Doña Hermosa, and Don Estevan appeared at the entrance: the unhappy father was stopped by the shock.

"Look!" said the Tigercat, with his usual sneer; "Look how he receives his children! Is that his love?"

Doña Hermosa had thrown herself into her father's arms, and tearfully embraced him; without seeing the Tigercat. "My father, my father!" she cried; "God be praised that I see you once more!"

"Who speaks of God here?" said Don Pedro in a hollow voice, and shaking off his daughter, who tottered from him.

Doña Hermosa looked round in affright. Pale and trembling, she would have fallen, if Stoneheart had not hastened to support her.

"Look, how they love each other!" sneered the Tigercat. "It is touching! Don Fernando, throw your arms around your father;" and he pointed to Don Pedro.

"He my father!" cried Stoneheart, overjoyed; "Oh, it would be too much happiness!"

"Yes," said the Tigercat; "Don Pedro is your father, and here is your sister!" As he said this, he pointed to Doña Hermosa and again burst into a diabolical laugh.

The two young people were thunderstruck. Don Pedro, whose nervous system had received a violent shock from the first revelation, felt his reason deserting him. He seemed neither to see nor hear, and to take no notice of the strange scene enacting around him. The Tigercat exulted in his triumph. Don Estevan, alarmed at the hacendero's state, thought it high time to interfere. "Don Pedro," said he in a loud voice and forcibly laying his hand on the old man's shoulder, "collect yourself; this miscreant is a liar! Your children are worthy of your name. I was with them at the Voladero."

Don Pedro seemed to make a mighty effort to resume his grasp on the senses which were leaving him. His body underwent a terrible convulsion. He turned his face towards Stoneheart, and a heavy sigh burst from his heart; then tears flowed down his venerable cheeks, and he cried in feeble accents, as he fell on the breast of his son, "Yours is the truth, Estevan; the truth, the truth!"

"I swear it, Don Pedro!" was the solemn reply.

"Thanks, thanks! I knew the miscreant lied. My children – "

The two young people threw themselves into his arms, and loaded him with caresses.

The Tigercat, with his arms crossed on his chest, looked on with his sardonic leer, and said ironically: "They love each other, brother; let them marry."

"They have a right to do so!" exclaimed a ringing voice. All turned in amazement. Ña Manuela had entered the jacal. "Yes," said she, turning with an air of mockery to the Tigercat, who stood appalled, he knew not why, at the sudden apparition; "the day of judgment has come at last! I have waited for it patiently; but justice shall be done, and it is I whom God has chosen to manifest his power!"

All present gazed with admiration and respect at the woman, who seemed completely transfigured. Her face was radiant; her eyes flashed lightning. With calm and imposing steps, she approached the hacendero. "Don Pedro! my much-loved master," said she in a voice scarcely intelligible from emotion; "forgive me! I have made you suffer, oh, how long! But God inspired me! It is He, and only He, who dictated my conduct. Don Fernando is not your son; he is mine! Your son" – and she brought forward Don Estevan – "is here!"

"Don Estevan!" cried all present.

"A lie!" howled the Tigercat

"It is the truth," briefly replied Ña Manuela. "Hatred is blind, Don Leoncio. You took away the poor nurse's child when you thought you had stolen your brother's. Look at Estevan, all you who knew his mother, and deny, if you dare, that he is her son."

In truth, the likeness was striking. Up to the time, Estevan's position had blinded their eyes; there was no reason to seek for a resemblance to anyone: but now, when the veil had fallen, they recognised whence he sprung.

"But you will always be my mother!" cried Estevan, with much feeling.

"Mother!" exclaimed Fernando, throwing himself into her arms.

Don Pedro's joy knew no bounds.

The Tigercat, forced to confess himself foiled, uttered a howl like a wild beast. "Aha!" cried he, beside himself with rage, "Is it to be thus? But it is not over yet!" He drew a poniard from his garments, and threw himself with all his force on Don Pedro, who, in his joy, had forgotten his presence.

But an eye watched him. Don Luciano had stolen into the jacal, and noiselessly placed himself behind the bandit, whose every movement he carefully watched. As the Tigercat made his spring, he threw his arms around him, and pinioned him, in spite of the desperate efforts made by the miserable wretch. At the same moment, the vaquero bounded into the jacal, knife in hand, and, before anyone could arrest him, plunged it up to the hilt in his throat. "Not bad;" he exclaimed. "The opportunity was too good to lose! My navajada was never given so fairly! I hope this blow will gain me pardon for the others."

The Tigercat remained standing a moment, swaying hither and thither, like a half-uprooted oak tottering to its fall. He rolled his eyes around him, in which rage still strove with the agony that made them haggard. He made one last effort to pronounce a terrible malediction, but his mouth contracted horribly; a stream of dark blood spouted from his yawning throat; he fell at his full length on the ground, where he writhed for a moment like a crushed reptile, to the inconceivable horror of the spectators. Then all was still: he was dead; but on his face, distorted by the death pang, unutterable hatred survived the life which had just quitted him.

"Justice is done," said Manuela, with trembling accents. "It is the hand of God!"

"Let us pray for him," said Don Pedro, falling on his knees.

All present, impressed by this noble and simple action, followed his example, and knelt by his side.

The vaquero, having finished his part in the scene, thought it prudent to disappear, but not without exchanging a glance of intelligence with the capataz, who smiled grimly under his gray moustache.