Gustave Aimard
Stronghand: or, The Noble Revenge

"Then you want to send me to the pueblo?"

"Have you any repugnance to return there?"

"Not the slightest; still, I shall not remain there on account of that night's business."

"Ah, yes, that is true, the soldier's death – take care."

"Oh, I shall only remain at the pueblo just long enough to perform the duty you entrust to me, and then leave it immediately."

"That will be most prudent. But no, stay; upon reflection, I think it will be better for you not to return to the Real de Minas. I will send my letter by another person."

"I prefer that. Have you any other order to give me?"

"None; so you can do what you think proper: but remember that I expect you in a week, and so act accordingly."

"I shall not forget it, caray!"

"In that case, I will not detain you. Good-bye."

"Till we meet again, señor."

The senator struck a gong, and the manservant appeared almost immediately. Don Rufino and Kidd exchanged a side-glance. It was evident that the criado, curious, like all servants, had listened at the door, and tried to learn for what reason his master remained so long shut up with a man of the adventurer's appearance; but, thanks to the precautions Kidd had taken, even the sound of the voices, which were purposely suppressed, did not reach him.

"Show this caballero out," the senator said.

The two men bowed for the last time, as if they were the best friends in the world, and then separated.

"Villain!" Don Rufino exclaimed, so soon as he was alone; "if ever I can make you pay me for all the suffering you have forced on me today, I will not spare you."

And he passionately dashed down a splendid vase, which was unluckily within his reach.

For his part, the adventurer, while following the servant through the apartment, indulged in reflections which were anything but rosy coloured.

"Hang it all!" he said to himself; "The affair has been hot. I believe that I shall act wisely in distrusting my friend: the dear señor is far from being tender-hearted, and if he has a chance of playing me an ill turn he will not let it slip. I did act wrong to sign that accursed paper; but, after all, what have I to fear? He is too much in danger to try and set a trap for me; but for all, I will be prudent, for that can do me no harm."

When he had ended this soliloquy he found himself under the zaguán, where the manservant took leave of him with a respectful bow. The adventurer pulled his wide hat brim over his eyes, and departed. In returning to the rancho he employed the same precautions he had used in going to the senator's house, for he was not at all anxious to be recognised and arrested by the Alguaciles; for, as we know, the streets of the town, for certain reasons, were not at all healthy for him. Kidd found the ranchero standing in his doorway, with straddled legs, attentively surveying the approaches to his house.

"Eh!" the host said, with a bow, "Back already?"

"As you see, compadre; but let me have my breakfast at once, for I have a deal to do."

"Are you going to leave us already?"

"I do not know; come, pray make haste."

The ranchero served him without further questioning. The adventurer made a hearty meal, paid liberally to appease his host's ill temper, saddled his horse, and set out, without saying whether he should return or not. A quarter of an hour later he was in the open country, and inhaling with infinite pleasure the fresh, fragrant breeze that reached him from the desert.

CHAPTER XXXVI
THE HACIENDA DEL TORO

We will now leap over an interval of a fortnight, and return to the Hacienda del Toro; but before resuming our story we will cursorily describe the events that occurred during this fortnight, in order to make the reader thoroughly understand by what a strange concourse of events accident brought all our characters face to face, and produced a collision among them, from which an unforeseen dénouement issued.

Doña Marianna, persuaded by Doña Esperanza, or, perhaps, unconsciously attracted by the secret longings of her heart, had consented to remain a couple of days with her. These days were occupied with pleasant conversation, in which the maiden at length disclosed the secret which she imagined to be buried in the remotest nook of her heart. Doña Esperanza smiled with delight at this simple revelation of a love which she already suspected, and which everything led her to encourage.

Stronghand, for his part, had yielded to the magical fascination the maiden exercised over him. Feeling himself beloved, his restraint and coldness melted away to make room for an honest admiration. Carried away by the feelings that agitated him, he displayed all the true prudence and goodness contained in his character, which was, perhaps, rather savage, but it was that loyal and powerful savageness which pleases women, by creating in them a secret desire to conquer these rebellious natures, and dominate them by their delicious seductions. Women, as a general rule, owing to their very weakness, have always liked to subdue energetic men, and those who are reputed indomitable; for a woman is proud to be protected, and blushes when she is compelled to defend the man whose name she bears. Contempt kills love. A woman will never love a man except when she has the right to be proud of him, and can say to him, "Spare foes too weak for you, and unworthy of your anger."

During the two days the young couple did not once utter the word love, and yet they clearly explained it and no longer entertained a doubt as to their mutual attachment.

Still it was time to think about returning to the hacienda. It was settled that Doña Marianna should inform her father about what she had learned from Doña Esperanza, that she should not positively refuse Don Rufino's hand, and quietly await events.

"Take care," the maiden said, as she held out her hand to the hunter; "my only hope is in you: if you fail in your plans I shall be left alone defenceless, and death alone will remain to me, for I shall not survive the loss of all my hopes."

"Trust to me, Doña Marianna; I have staked my happiness and my life on the terrible game I am preparing to play, and I feel convinced that I shall win it."

"I will pray to Heaven for both you and myself with such fervour, that I feel confident my prayers will be granted."

These words, with which the young people parted, were equivalent to a mutual engagement. Doña Esperanza tenderly embraced the maiden.

"Remember the legend," she said to her, and Doña Marianna replied with a smile.

The tigrero held the horses by the bridle. Stronghand and ten hunters prepared to follow the travellers at a distance, in order to help them, should it be necessary. The journey was performed in silence. Doña Marianna was too much engaged in restoring some degree of order to her thoughts, which were upset by what had happened during the two days she spent among the hunters, to dream of saying a word to her companion; while he, for his part, confounded by the way in which he had been treated in camp, tried to explain the luxury and comfort which he had never before witnessed in the desert, and which plunged him into a state of amazement from which he could not recover.

As Doña Marianna had expressed a wish to reach their journey's end as quickly as possible, Mariano took a different road from that which he had previously followed, and which ran to El Toro without passing by the rancho.

At about 3 p.m. they came in sight of the rock, and began scaling the path, and then noticed the hunters, commanded by Stronghand, drawn up in good order on the skirt of the forest. When the young lady reached the first gate of the hacienda, the sound of a shot reached her ear, and a white puff of smoke floating over the horsemen made her guess who it was that had fired it. Doña Marianna waved her handkerchief in the air. A second shot was fired, as if to show her that the signal was seen, and then the hunters turned round and disappeared in the forest. Doña Marianna entered the hacienda, and the first person she met was Paredes.

"¡Válgame dios! niña," the worthy majordomo exclaimed; "Where have you come from? The Marquis has been excessively anxious about you."

"Does not my father know that I have been to pay a visit to my nurse?"

"Your brother told him so, niña; but as your absence was so prolonged, the Marquis was afraid that some accident had happened to you."

"You see that it was not so, my good Paredes; so set your mind at rest, and go and re-assure my father, to whom I shall be delighted to pay my respects."

"Don Hernando will be pleased at your return, niña; he is at this moment engaged with Don Ruiz in inspecting the walls on the side of the huerta, in order to make certain that they are in a sound condition for we fear more and more an attack from the Indians."

"In that case do not disturb my father, and I will go and rest in the drawing room, for I am exhausted with fatigue; and when my father has completed his inspection, you will inform him of my return. It is unnecessary to importune him now."

"Importune him!" exclaimed the honest majordomo, "Excuse me, señorita, if I am not of your opinion on that head. ¡Viva dios! the Marquis would not forgive me if I did not immediately inform him of your return."

"In that case, act as you think proper, my worthy Paredes."

The majordomo, who had probably only been waiting for this permission, ran off.

"My dear Mariano," the young lady then said, addressing her foster brother, "it is not necessary to tell what we have been doing during our absence. Everybody must suppose that I have not quitted my nurse's rancho; you understand, and I count on your discretion. When the time arrives, I intend myself to inform my father of all that has occurred."

"Enough, niña; you know that your wishes are orders for me. I will not say a word – besides, it is no business of mine."

"Very well, Mariano; now receive my sincere thanks for the services you have rendered me."

"You know that I am devoted to you, niña; I have merely done my duty, and you have no occasion to thank me for that."

The young lady offered him her hand with a smile, and entered her apartments. The tigrero, when left alone, took the bridles of the two horses, and led them to the corral, through the crowd of rancheros, who, by the Marquis's orders, had sought refuge in the hacienda, and had erected their jacales in all the courtyards. Doña Marianna was not sorry to be alone for a few minutes, in order to have time to prepare the conversation she intended to have with her father and brother, whose difficulties she did not at all conceal from herself.

The hacienda was very large, and hence, in spite of all his diligence, it was not till he had spent half an hour in sterile search, that the majordomo succeeded in finding his master. Don Hernando heard, with a lively feeling of joy, of his daughter's return, and immediately gave up his inspection in order to hurry to her. The more heavily misfortune pressed upon the Marquis, the greater became the affection he entertained for his children; he felt a necessity for resting on them, and drawing more closely the family ties. When he entered, with Don Ruiz, the room in which Doña Marianna was awaiting him, he opened his arms and embraced her tenderly.

"Naughty girl!" he exclaimed; "What mortal anxiety you have caused me! Why did you remain so long absent in these troublous times?"

"Forgive me, my dear father," the girl answered, as she returned his caresses; "I incurred no danger."

"Heaven be praised! But why did you stay away from us for three days."

The young lady blushed.

"Father," she answered, as she lavished on her parent those tender blandishments of which girls so thoroughly possess the secret, "during my entire absence I was only thinking of you."

"Alas!" the Marquis murmured, with a choking sigh, "I know your heart, my poor child; unhappily my position is so desperate that nothing can save me."

"Perhaps you may be saved, father," she said, with a toss of her head.

"Do not attempt to lead me astray by false hopes, which, in the end, would render our frightful situation even more cruel than it is."

"I do not wish to do so, father," she said, earnestly, "but I bring you a certainty."

"A certainty, child! That is a very serious word in the mouth of a girl. Where do you suppose it possible to find the means to conjure ill fortune?"

"Not very far off, father; at this very place, if you like."

Don Hernando made no reply, but let his head drop on his chest mournfully.

"Listen to Marianna, father," Don Ruiz then said; "she is the angel of our home. I believe in her, for I am certain that she would not make a jest of our misfortunes."

"Thanks, Ruiz. Oh, you are right; I would sooner die than dream of increasing my father's grief."

"I know it, child," the Marquis answered, with sad impatience; "but you are young, inexperienced, and doubtless accept the wishes of your heart as certainties."

"Why not listen to what my sister has to say, father?" Don Ruiz said. "If she is deceiving herself – if what she wishes to tell us does not produce on you the effect she expects from it, at any rate she will have given an undeniable proof of the lively interest she takes in your affairs; and were it only for that reason, both you and I owe her thanks."

"Of what good is it, children?"

"Good heavens, father! In our fearful situation we should neglect nothing. Who knows? Very frequently the weakest persons bring the greatest help. Listen to my sister first, and then you will judge whether her remarks deserve to be taken into consideration."

"As you press it, Ruiz, I will hear her."

"I do not press, father – I entreat. Come, speak, little sister; speak without fear, for we shall listen – at least I shall – with the liveliest interest."

Doña Marianna smiled sweetly, threw her arms round her father's neck, and laid her head on his shoulder with a charming gesture.

"How I love you, my dear father!" she said; "How I should like to see you happy! I have nothing to tell you, for you will not believe me; and what I might have to say is so strange and improbable, that you would not put faith in it."

"You see, child, that I was right."

"Wait a moment, father," she continued; "if I have nothing to tell you, I have a favour to ask."

"A favour! – yes, my dear."

"Yes, father, a favour; but what I desire is so singular – coming from a girl – that I really do not know how to make my request, although the thought is perfectly clear in my mind."

"Oh, oh, little maid," the Marquis said, with a smile, though he was much affected, "what is this thing which requires such mighty preparations? It must be very terrible for you to hesitate so in revealing it to me."

"No, father, it is not terrible; but, I repeat, it will appear to you wild."

"Oh, my child," he continued, as he shrugged his shoulders with an air of resignation, "I have seen so many wild things for some time past, that I shall not attach any importance to one now; hence you can explain yourself fully, without fearing any blame from me."

"Listen to me, father; the favour I have to ask of you is this – and, in the first place, you must promise to grant it to me."

"¡Caramba!" he said, good-humouredly, "you are taking your precautions, señorita. And suppose that I refuse?"

"In that case, father, all would be at an end," she replied, sorrowfully.

"Come, my child, re-assure yourself: I pledge you my word, which you ask for so peremptorily. Are you satisfied now?"

"Oh, father, how kind you are! You really mean it now. You pledge your word to grant me what I ask of you?"

"Yes, yes, little obstinate, I do pledge my word."

The girl danced with delight, as she clapped her pretty little hands, and warmly embraced her father.

"On my word, this little girl is mad!" the Marquis said, with a smile.

"Yes, father, mad with delight; for I hope soon to prove to you that your fortune has never been more flourishing than it now is."

"Why, her mind is wandering now."

"No, father," said Don Ruiz, who, with his eyes fixed on his sister, was listening with sustained interest, and was attentively following the play of her flexible face, on which the varied emotions that agitated her were reflected; "I believe, on the contrary, that Marianna is at this moment revolving in her mind some strange scheme, for carrying out which she requires full and entire liberty."

"You have read the truth, Ruiz. Yes, I have a great project in my head; but in order that it may be thoroughly successful, I must be mistress of my actions, without control or remarks, from eight o'clock this evening till midnight. Do you grant me this power, father?"

"I have promised it," Don Hernando replied, with a smile. "A gentleman has only his word; as you desire, from eight o'clock till midnight you will be sole mistress of the hacienda: no one, not even myself, will have the right to make a remark about your conduct. Must I announce this officially to our people?" he added, sportively.

"It is unnecessary, father: only two persons need be told."

"And who are these two privileged persons, if you please?"

"My foster brother Mariano, the tigrero, and José Paredes."

"Come, I see you know where to place your confidence. Those two men are entirely devoted to us, and this gives me trust in the future. Go on, my child; what must be done further?"

"These men must be provided with picks, spades, crowbars, and lanterns."

"I see you are thinking about digging."

"Possibly," she said, with a smile.

"Stories about buried treasure are thoroughly worn out in this country, my child," he said, with a dubious shake of his head; "all those that have been buried were dug up long ago."

"I can offer you no explanation, father. You are ignorant of my plan, and hence cannot argue upon a matter you do not know: moreover, you must make no remarks, and be the first to obey me," she said, with an exquisite smile. "You ought not to give an example of rebellion to my new subjects."

"That is perfectly true, my dear child; I am in the wrong, and offer you an ample apology. Be good enough to go on with your instructions."

"I have only a word to add, father. You and Ruiz must also provide yourselves with tools, for I expect you all four to work."

"Oh, oh, that is rather hard – not on me who am young," Don Ruiz exclaimed, laughingly, "but on our father. Come, little sister, do not expect such toil from him."

"I may have to lend a hand myself," Doña Marianna replied. "Believe me, Don Ruiz, you should not treat this affair lightly; it is far more serious than you suppose, and the consequence will be of incalculable importance for my father and the honour of our name. In my turn I will take an oath, since you refuse to believe my word."

"Not I, sister."

"Yes, Ruiz, you doubt it, although you do not like to allow it. Well, I swear to you and my father, by all I hold dearest in the world – that is to say, you two – that I am perfectly well aware of what I am doing, and am certain of success."

Such enthusiasm sparkled in the girl's brilliant eyes, there was such an expression of sincerity in her accent, that the two gentlemen at length confessed themselves vanquished; her conviction had entered their minds, and they were persuaded.

"What you desire shall be done, daughter," Don Hernando said; "and, whatever the result may be, I shall feel grateful to you for the efforts you are making."

Don Ruiz, by his father's orders, warned the majordomo and the tigrero, who was already preparing to return to the rancho. But so soon as the young man knew that his presence was necessary at the hacienda, he remained without the slightest remark, and delighted at having an opportunity to prove to his masters how greatly he was devoted to them. Then what always happens under similar circumstances occurred: while Doña Marianna was calmly awaiting the hour she had herself fixed for action, the Marquis and his son, on the other hand, suffered from a feverish curiosity, which did not allow them a moment's rest, and made them regard the delay as interminable. At length eight o'clock struck.

"It is time!" said Doña Marianna.