The Smuggler Chief: A Novel

CHAPTER XXVI

THE SCALP

It was about ten o'clock at night. It was cold and foggy; the wind whistled violently, and heavy black clouds coming from the south dropped heavy rain upon the ground. Between Valparaíso and Rio Claro – that is to say, in the gorge which had many times served as a refuge for the smugglers, and which our readers are already acquainted with – Tahi-Mari indolently lying at the foot of a tree, was rolling a papelito in his fingers, while lending an attentive ear to the slightest sounds which the gust conveyed to him and at times darting glances around him which seemed trying to pierce the obscurity.

"Ten o'clock already," he said, "and Leon not yet arrived: what can detain him? It is not possible that he can have forgotten the hour of our meeting. I will wait longer," he added, as he drew his mechero from his pocket and lit his cigarette, "for Leon must come back to me – he must absolutely."

Suddenly a sound so light that only an Indian's ear could seize it, crossed the space.

"What is that?" Diego asked himself.

He rose cautiously, and after concealing his horse in a dense thicket, hid himself behind the trunk of an enormous tree close by. The sound gradually drew nearer, and it was soon easy to recognise the gallop of a horse at full speed. A few minutes later a rider turned into the clearing; but he had not gone a few yards when his horse stumbled against a stone, tottered, and in spite of the efforts of the man on its back, slipped with all four feet, and fell.

"Der Teufel! Carajo! Sacrebleu!" Wilhelm shouted, as he fell, borrowing from all the languages he spoke the expressions best adapted to render the lively annoyance which he felt at the accident which had happened to him.

But the German was a good horseman, and the fall of the horse did not at all take him unawares. He freed his feet from the stirrups and found himself on his legs. Still, on looking around him, he noticed that the clearing which was deserted on his arrival, had become peopled, as if by enchantment, by some fifty Indians, who seemed to have sprung out of the ground.

"The deuce!" thought Wilhelm; "I fancy there will be a row, and I am afraid that I shall come off second best."

At this moment a shrill whistle was heard, and the Indians disappeared so rapidly that the German rubbed his eyes to see whether he was awake.

"Hilloh!" he asked himself, "is this an apparition, and are they demons or men?"

Then, seeing that he was really alone, he busied himself with raising his horse.

"There," he continued, when the animal was on its legs again, "I will wait till Señor Diego arrives. Plague take the spot; it does not appear to me so sure as formerly, and our ex-lieutenant might have chosen another."

"Here I am, Wilhelm!" Diego said, suddenly, as he stood before the smuggler.

"Well, I am not sorry for it, lieutenant," the German answered, phlegmatically.

"What do you want here?" the other asked him, sharply.

"I have come because the captain ordered me to do so, that is all."

"Why did Leon send you in his place? I was expecting him here."

"Ah, that is another matter, and you must not be angry with him."

"But," Diego continued, biting his moustache savagely, "what does he expect me to do with you?"

"Hang it all – whatever you like."

"But where is he?"

"He is arrested."

"How! – arrested?"

"Yes; and it was before being imprisoned in the Calabozo, that he ordered me to go in all haste and warn you."

"Arrested!" the half-breed said, stamping his foot; "that scoundrel of a Crevel has betrayed me, and shall pay dearly for it."

"Crevel, do you say, lieutenant? Well, it is possible; and yet I do not think so."

"I am sure of it."

"Why so?"

"I sent him a letter which he was to deliver to Leon, and in which I warned the latter of the danger that menaced him."

"A letter, you say; and when did you send it?"

"This morning early."

"Ah!" said Wilhelm, "I have it."

And he told Diego how – as Leon had gone out when the letter arrived at Crevel's – the latter asked him to deliver it to the captain, and that when he received it, he put it in his pocket without reading, absorbed as he was in his conversation with General Soto-Mayor.

"What! is the general at Valparaíso?" Diego asked, interrupting the smuggler.

"Yes, lieutenant; but he will not be so for long."

"Why not?"

"Because the governor had just given him command of the new body of volunteers, who are going to reinforce the Chilian army at Santiago."

"That is well."

Tahi-Mari whistled in a peculiar way, and an Indian appeared. The chief of the Molucho army said a few words to him in a low voice. The Indian bowed as a sign of obedience, and, gliding through the herbage, disappeared. Wilhelm looked on at the scene, whistling to give himself a careless air. When the Indian had gone, Tahi-Mari turned to him, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"Wilhelm," he said to him, "you love your captain, do you not, my lad?"

While uttering these words his searching glance was plunged into the smuggler's eyes, as if questioning his thoughts.

"I love the captain? Der Teufel! do you doubt it, lieutenant?"

"No! that will do; you are an honest fellow."

"All right."

"But listen to me. Will you save him?"

"Certainly. What am I to do for that?"

"I will tell you. Where is Leon's band?"

"At Valparaíso."

"How many men does it consist of at this moment?"

"Forty."

"Would they all die for their captain?"

"I should think so."

"In that case, you will assemble them tomorrow at Crevel's."

"At what hour?"

"Eleven o'clock at night."

"Settled."

"Pay attention that Crevel does not open the door to any persons who do not rap thrice, and say Diego and Leon."

"I will open it myself."

"That will be better still."

"After that, what are we to do?"

"Nothing; the rest is my business: remember my instructions, and be off."

"Enough, lieutenant."

Wilhelm remounted his horse and set out on his return. At about a league from Valparaíso he met the column of volunteers marching to Santiago, and gaily advancing while singing patriotic airs. Wilhelm who was not at all desirous of being arrested as a suspicious person for travelling at this hour of the night, drew up by the wayside, and allowed the men to defile past him. When the last had disappeared in the distance, the German returned to the high road, and half an hour later re-entered Valparaíso, puzzling over the remarks of Tahi-Mari, whose plans he could not divine.

In the meanwhile, the volunteers continued to advance, filling the air with their martial strains. They formed a body of about four thousand men; but of this number only one-half were armed with muskets – the rest had pikes, lances, or forks; but their enthusiasm – powerfully inflamed by the copious libations of aguardiente which the inhabitants of Valparaíso had furnished to them – knew no limits, and made them discount beforehand a victory which they regarded as certain.

These soldiers of the moment had been selected from the lowest classes of society, and retained a turbulence and want of discipline which nothing could conquer. The citizens of Valparaíso, who feared them almost as much as if they had been Indians, were delighted at their departure, for, during their short stay in the town, they had, so to speak, organized plunder, and made robbery their vocation.

General Soto-Mayor did not at all deceive himself as to the qualities of the men whom he commanded, and perceived at the first glance that it would be impossible to obtain from them the obedience which he had a right to demand. In spite of the repeated orders which he gave them at starting to observe, the greatest silence on the march, through fear of being surprised by the Indians, he found himself constrained to let them act as they pleased, and he resolved to let the army bivouac on the road, while he proceeded to his country house, whence he could dispatch a courier to Santiago, requesting officers to be sent him who could aid him in restoring some degree of order among the men he commanded. It was evident that such a disorderly and noisy march exposed them to be murdered to a man in the first ambuscade which the Araucanos prepared for him.

It was about one in the morning when the volunteers arrived at the general's country house. It was plunged in profound obscurity; all the shutters were closed, and the watch dogs barked mournfully in the deserted courtyards. After ordering a halt for some hours the general proceeded towards his residence. At the sound of the bell a heavy footfall was heard inside, and a grumbling voice asked who was knocking at such an hour, and what he wanted.

When the general had made himself known, the gate turned heavily on its hinges, and Señor Soto-Mayor entered, not without a painful contraction of the heart, the house which recalled to him such affecting recollections. Alas! long past were the happy days which he had spent in this charming retreat, surrounded by all those to whom he was attached, and resting from the fatigues of a gloriously occupied life.

The old gentleman's first care was to send off the courier, and then, after taking out of the manservant's hand the candle which he held, he entered the apartments. This splendid residence, which he had left so brilliant and so animated, was now solitary and deserted. The rooms he passed through, on whose floor his foot echoed dully, were cold; the atmosphere which he breathed was impregnated with a close and unhealthy odour, which testified the little care the guardians of the house had displayed in removing it; on all sides were abandonment and sadness.

At times the general's eyes fell upon an object which had belonged to his wife, and then they filled with tears, while a deep sigh issued from his oppressed chest. At length, after visiting in turn all the apartments in the house with that painful pleasure which persons feel in evoking a past which cannot return, the general opened the door of the room which had served as his bedroom. He could not restrain a start of terror. A man, seated in an easy chair, with his arms folded on his chest, seemed to be awaiting somebody.

It was Diego.

"Come in, my dear general," he said, as he rose and bowed courteously.

"Señor!" said the general.

"Yes; I understand. It astonishes you to see me here: but what would you have? Circumstances allowed me no choice; and I am sure that you will pardon me this slight infraction of etiquette."

The general was dumb with surprise at the sight of such audacity. Still, when the first flush of indignation had passed, feeling curious to know the object of the person who behaved to him so strangely, he restrained his anger and awaited the result of this singular interview.

"Sit down, general, pray," Diego continued, keeping up his tone of assurance.

"I thank, you, sir, for your politeness in doing the honours of my house; but before aught else, I should wish to know the reason which has procured me this visit."

"I beg your pardon, general," the other replied, with a slight tremor in his voice; "but perhaps you do not recognize me, and so I will – "

"It is unnecessary, sir. I remember you perfectly well; you are a smuggler, called Diego the Vaquero, who abandoned us after engaging to escort us, as did Captain Leon Delbès, in whose service I believe you were."

"That is perfectly correct, general; still the name of Diego is not the only one which I have the right to bear."

"That concerns me but slightly."

"Perhaps not."

"Explain yourself."

"If the Spaniards call me Diego, the Indians call me Tahi-Mari."

This name produced the same effect on the general as an electric shock.

"Tahi-Mari!" he exclaimed. "You!"

"Myself!"

A flash of hatred animated the eyes of the two men, who seemed measuring each other like two tigers brought face to face. After a moment's silence, the general continued:

"Can you be ignorant that I have round the house in which we now are four thousand men ready to hurry up at my first summons?"

"No, general; but you do not seem to know that I, too, have in this house two hundred Indians, who are watching each of your movements, and who would rush on you at the slightest signal I gave."

The general's lips blanched.

"Ah! I understand," he said. "You have come to assassinate me after killing my wife, for now I no longer doubt but that it was you who had us surprised in such a cowardly fashion in the Parumo of San Juan Bautista."

"You are mistaken, general: it was not I who made you a widower; and it was in order that none of my men should tear from me the prey I covet, that I have come myself to fetch it."

"But what impels you to be so furious against those of my race, so that the name of Tahi-Mari may be equivalent to that of the murderer of the Soto-Mayors."

"Because the Soto-Mayors are all cowards and infamous."

"Villain!"

"Yes, infamous! and it is because I have sworn to exterminate the last of the accursed family that I have come to take your life!"

"Assassin!"

"Nonsense; a Tahi-Mari fights, but he does so honourably – face to face. Here are two swords," Diego continued, pointing to the weapons lying on a cheffonier, "choose the one you please; or if you like, you have your sabre, and here is mine. On guard! and may heaven protect the last of the Tahi-Maris, while destroying the last of the Soto-Mayors!"

"I have a son who will avenge me," the general exclaimed.

"Perhaps not, Señor Don Juan, for you know not whether he is dead or alive."

"My son! – oh!"

And the general, overpowered by a feverish excitement, furiously drew the pistol which he had in his belt and discharged it point-blank at Diego. But the latter was following his movements, and at the moment when the general's hand was lowered at him, he cut through his wrist with a sabre-stroke. The general uttered a cry of pain, and the bullet broke a mirror.

"Oh, oh!" Diego exclaimed, "ever treacherous; but we are too old enemies not to know each other, and hence I was on my guard, general."

The old man, without replying, drew another pistol with his left hand and fired. But the badly aimed shot only grazed slightly the Indian's chest; and the bullet, after making a scratch along one of his ribs, entered the panel of a door. Diego bounded like a lion on the old man, who had fallen to the ground, and whose blood was streaming from the frightful wound he had on his arm. Then he seized his long white hair, pulled up his head violently, and compelled him to look him in the face.

"At last, Soto-Mayor, you are conquered!" he shouted.

The old man collected the little strength left him in a supreme effort; his eyes sparkled with fury, his countenance was contracted with disgust, and he spat in his enemy's face. At this supreme insult Diego uttered a frightful howl, and then drew his knife with a demoniacal grin.

In the meanwhile the sound of the pistol shots had spread an alarm among the volunteers, and a party of them rushed tumultuously into the house. When the soldiers entered the general's bedroom, after breaking in the door, they found the window open and the old man stretched out on the floor, bathed in blood. In addition to the horrible mutilation of his arm, he had a hideous wound on his head, from which the blood streamed down his face. Diego had scalped the unfortunate Don Juan de Soto-Mayor.

A cry of horror burst from every mouth, and they hastily gave the wounded man all the care which his wretched condition required.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE CAPTURE OF THE CONVENT

Since the invasion of the Araucanos, Crevel's hostelry had lost much of its old splendour. No longer was heard the clink of glasses or the smashing of window panes which the noisy customers broke while discussing their affairs. The bottles remained methodically arranged on the shelves that lined the shop, and the time when Crevel earned a few piastres a month, merely by counting as new the cracked ones which his customers threw at his head in the guise of a peroration, had passed away. The most utter vacuum had taken the place of the overflow.

At the most, not more than one or two passers-by came in during the course of the day to drink a glass of pisco, which they paid for, and went off again directly in spite of all the efforts and cajolery of the banian, who tried to keep them in order to talk of public affairs and cheer his solitude.

On the day after Leon Delbès' arrest, however, the house offered, at about ten in the evening, a lively appearance, which formed a strange contrast with the calmness and tranquillity which the state of war had imposed on it. The shop was literally encumbered with customers, who smoked without saying a word.

The silence was so religiously observed by them that it was easy to distinguish the sound of the rain falling outside, and the hoofs of the police horses which echoed dully on the pebbles or in the muddy pools which covered the soil.

At nightfall the worthy landlord, who had not seen his threshold crossed since the morning by a single customer, was preparing to shut up, with sundry execrations, when an individual suddenly entered, then three, then four, then ten – in a word, so large a number that he found it impossible to count them. All were wrapped in large cloaks, and had their broad-brimmed hats pulled down over their eyes so as to render their features unrecognisable.

Crevel, agreeably surprised, prepared to serve his guests, with the assistance of his lads; but though the proverb says that it is impossible to have too much of a good thing, the extraordinary number of persons who seemed to have given each other the meeting at his house assumed such proportions, that our landlord eventually became alarmed, as he did not know where to house the newcomers. The crowd, after invading the ground floor room, had, like a constantly-rising tide overflowed into the adjoining one, and then ascended the stairs and taken possession of the upper floors.

When ten o'clock struck, forty customers peopled the posada, and, as we said, not a single syllable was exchanged between them. Crevel comprehended that something extraordinary was taking place in his house; and he sought for means to get rid of these silent guests by affecting preparations for closing his inn, but no one appeared to catch his meaning. At this moment a sereno offered him the pretext which he was awaiting by shouting outside —

"Ave Maria purísima las diez han dado y llueve." The stereotyped phrase of the night watchman, though accompanied by modulations which would make a cat cry, produced no impression on the company. Hence Crevel resolved to speak.

"Gentlemen," he said aloud, as he stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, "it is ten o'clock, you hear, and I must absolutely close my establishment."

"Drink here!" the customers replied, in chorus – accompanying the sentence by dealing vigorous blows on the table with their pewter measures.

Crevel started back.

"Really, gentlemen," he tried to continue, "I would observe to you that – "

"Drink here!" the topers observed, in a voice of thunder.

"Ah! that is the game, is it?" the exasperated landlord cried, who felt all his courage return with his passion. "Well, we will see whether I am master of my own house."

He rushed towards the door, but had not taken a step in the street, when a newcomer seized him by the arm and unceremoniously thrust him back into the room, saying, with a mocking air —

"What imprudence, Master Crevel, to go out bareheaded in such weather! You will catch an awful cold."

Then, while the banian, confused and terrified by this rude shock, was trying to restore a little order in his ideas, his addresser, behaving just as if he were at home, and assisted by two customers, to whom he gave a signal, fastened the window shutters, bolted and locked the door as well as Crevel's lads could have done it.

"Now let us talk," said the newcomer, as he turned to the stupefied landlord. "Do you not recognise me?" he added, as he doffed his hat.

"Monsieur Wilhelm!" Crevel exclaimed.

"Silence!" the other remarked.

And he led the master of the posada into a retired corner of the room.

"Have you any strange lodgers here?" he asked him, in a low voice.

"No! if you know this legion of big demons who have collected in my house during the last hour – "

"Well! I am not alluding to them. I ask you whether you have any strangers lodging here. As for these gentlemen, you must know them as well as I do."

"From the cellar to the garret there is not a soul beside these gentlemen; but as I have not yet been able to see so much as the end of their noses, it was impossible for me to recognise them."

"These are all men belonging to the captain's band, you humbug!"

"Nonsense! In that case, why do they hide their faces?"

"Probably, Master Crevel, because they do not wish them to be seen; and now send your lads to bed, being careful to lock them carefully into their attic, and after that we will see."