The Adventurers

"I do not know why, but that man produces the effect of a reptile upon me; he inspires me with invincible repulsion."

"Oh, nonsense! you are too impressionable. I am sure that the man, who, I cannot deny, has the air of a thorough rascal, is, at bottom, one of the best fellows in the world."

"God grant I may be deceived! But I experience, on seeing him, a feeling for which I cannot account; it seems as if a kind of presentiment warned me to be on my guard against that man, and that he will be fatal to me."

"All folly! What relations can you ever have with this individual? We are charged with a mission to him; who knows whether we may ever see him again? and then what interests can connect us with him hereafter?"

"You are right; and I do not know what makes me think as I have said; besides, we shall soon know what we have to trust to on his account – here he is."

The adventurers were, in fact, at that moment in front of the chief's toldo. Antinahuel stood before them; and, although appearing to be giving orders to his men, examined them very attentively. He stepped towards them quickly, and, bowing with perfect politeness, said, in a pleasant tone, and with a graceful gesture —

"Strangers, you are welcome to my toldo. Your presence rejoices my heart. Condescend to pass over the threshold of this poor hut, which will be yours as long as you deign to remain among us."

"Thanks for the kind words of welcome you address to us, powerful chief," Valentine replied. "The persons who sent us to you assured us of the kind reception we might expect."

"If the strangers come on the part of my friends, that is a further reason why I should endeavour to make their abode here as agreeable as my humble means will allow me."

The two Frenchmen bowed ceremoniously, and alighted from their horses. At a sign from the toqui, two peons led the horses away to a vast corral behind the toldo.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE MATRICIDE

We have repeatedly said that in times of peace the Araucanos are exceedingly hospitable. This hospitality, which on the part of the warriors is cordial and simple, on that of the chiefs becomes extravagant. Antinahuel was far from being a rude Indian, attached though he was to the customs of his fathers; and although in his heart he hated not only the Spaniards, but indiscriminately all belonging to the white race, the half-civilized education he had received had given him ideas of comfort completely above Indian habits. Many of the richest Chilian farmers would have found it impossible to display greater luxury than he exhibited when his caprice or his interest led him to do so. On the present occasion, he was not sorry to show strangers that the Araucanos were not so barbarous as their arrogant neighbours wished it to be supposed, and that they could, when necessary, rival even them. At the first glance, Antinahuel had discovered that his guests were not Spaniards; but, with the circumspection which forms the foundation of the Indian character, he confined his observations to his own breast. It was with the kindest air and in the most winning tone of voice that he pressed them to enter his toldo.

The Frenchmen followed him in, and with a gesture he requested them to be seated. Peons placed a profusion of cigars and cigarettes upon the table, near a tasty filigree brasero. In a few minutes other peons entered with the maté, which they respectfully presented to the chief and his guests. Then, without the silence being broken – for the Araucanian laws of hospitality require that no question should be addressed to strangers until they think proper to speak themselves – each sipped the herb of Paraguay, while smoking. This preliminary operation being gone through, Valentine rose.

"I thank you, chief, in the name of myself and my friend, for your cordial hospitality."

"Hospitality is a duty which every Araucano is jealous to fulfil!"

"But," replied Valentine, "as I have been given to understand that the chief is about to set out on a journey, I do not wish to detain him."

"I am at the orders of my guests; my journey is not so pressing as not to admit of being put off for a few hours."

"I thank the chief for his courtesy, but I hope he will soon be at liberty."

Antinahuel bowed.

"A Spaniard has charged me with a letter for the chief."

"Ah!" the toqui exclaimed, with a singular intonation, and fixing a piercing look upon the face of the young man.

"Yes," the Frenchman continued; "and that letter I am about to have the honour of handing to you."

And he put his hand to his breast, to take out the letter.

"Stop!" said the chief, laying his hand upon his arm, as he turned towards his servants; adding, "leave the room." The three men were left alone.

"Now you may give me the letter," he continued.

The chief took it, looked carefully at the superscription, turned the paper in all directions in his hand, and then, with some hesitation, presented it to the young man.

"Let my brother read it," he said; "the whites are more learned than we poor Indians: they know everything."

Valentine gave his countenance the most silly expression possible.

"I cannot read this," he said, with well-assumed embarrassment.

"Does my brother then refuse to render me this service?" the chief pressed him.

"I do not refuse you, chief; only I am prevented doing what you request by a very simple reason."

"And what is that reason?"

"It is that my companion and I are both Frenchmen."

"Well, and what then?"

"We speak a little Spanish, but we cannot read it."

"Ah!" said the chief, in a tone of doubt; but, after walking about, and reflecting a minute, he added, – "Hem! that is possible."

He then turned towards the two Frenchmen, who, on their part, were, in appearance, impassive and indifferent.

"Let my brothers wait an instant," he said; "I know a man in my tribe who understands the marks which the whites make upon paper: I will go and order him to translate this letter."

The young men bowed, and the chief left the apartment.

"Why the devil did you refuse to read the letter?" Louis asked.

"In good truth," Valentine replied, "I can scarcely tell you why; but what you said of the expression of this man's countenance, produced a certain effect upon me. He inspires me with no confidence, and I am not anxious to be the depository of secrets which he may some day reclaim in a disagreeable manner."

"Yes, you are right! We may, some day, congratulate ourselves upon this circumspection. Hush! I hear footsteps."

And the chief re-entered the room.

"I know the contents of the letter," he said; "if my brothers see the man who charged them with it, they will inform him that I am setting out this very day for Valdivia."

"We would, with pleasure, take charge of that message," replied Valentine; "but we do not know the person who gave us the letter, and it is more than probable we may never see him again."

The chief darted at them a stolen and deeply suspicious glance.

"Good! Will my brothers remain here, then?"

"It would give us infinite pleasure to pass a few hours in the agreeable society of the chief, but with us time presses; with his permission, we will take our leave."

"My brothers are perfectly free; my toldo is open for those who leave it, as well as for those who enter it."

The young men rose to depart.

"In what direction are my brothers going?"

"We are bound for Concepción."

"Let my brothers go in peace, then! If their course lay towards Valdivia, I would have offered to journey with them."

"A thousand thanks, chief, for your kind offer; unfortunately we cannot profit by it, for our road lies in a completely opposite direction."

The three men exchanged a few more words of courtesy, and left the toldo. The Frenchmen's horses had been brought round; they mounted, and after having saluted the chief once more, they set off. As soon as they were out of the village, Louis, turning to Valentine, said, —

"We have not an instant to lose. If we wish to reach Valdivia before that man, we must make all speed. Who knows whether Don Tadeo may not be awaiting our arrival impatiently?"

They soon rejoined their friends, who looked for them anxiously, and all four set off at full speed in the direction of Valdivia, without being able to explain to themselves why they used such diligence. Antinahuel accompanied his guests a few paces out of his toldo. When he had taken leave of them, he followed them with his eyes as far as he could see them, and when they disappeared at the extremity of the village, he returned thoughtfully and slowly to his toldo, saying to himself, —

"It is evident to me that these men are deceiving me; their refusal to read the letter was nothing but a pretext. What can be their object? Can they be enemies? I will watch them!"

When he arrived in front of his toldo, he found his mosotones mounted, and awaiting his orders.

"I must set out at once," he said; "I shall learn all yonder, and, perhaps," he added, in a voice so low that he could hardly hear it himself, "perhaps I shall find her again. If Doña Maria breaks her promise, and does not give her up to me, woe, woe be to her!"

He raised his head, and saw his mother standing before him. "What do you want, woman?" he asked, harshly; "this is not your place!"

"My place is near you when you are suffering, my son," she mildly replied.

"I suffering! You are mad, mother! age has turned your brain! Go back into the toldo, and, during my absence, keep a good watch over all that belongs to me."

"Are you, then, really going, my son?"

"This moment," he said, and sprang into his saddle.

"Where are you going?" she asked, and seized his horse's bridle.

"What is that to you?" he replied, with an ugly glance.

"Beware! my son; you are entering on a bad course. Guérubu, the spirit of evil, is master of your heart."

"I am the best and sole judge of my actions."

"You shall not go!" she exclaimed, as she placed herself resolutely in front of his horse.

The Indians collected round the speakers looked on with mute terror at this scene; they were too well acquainted with the violent and imperious character of Antinahuel not to dread something fatal, if his mother persisted in endeavouring to prevent his departure.

The brows of the chief lowered – his eyes gleamed like lightning – and it was not without a great effort that he mastered the passion boiling in his breast.

"I will go!" he said, in a loud voice, and trembling with rage; "I will go, if I trample you beneath my horse's hoofs!"

The woman clung convulsively to the saddle, and looked her son in the face.

"Do so," she cried; "for, by the soul of your father, who now hunts in the blessed prairies with Pillian, I swear I will not stir, even if you pass over my body!"

The face of the Indian became horribly contracted; he cast around a glance which made the hearts of the bravest tremble with fear.

"Woman! woman!" he shouted, grinding his teeth with rage; "get out of my way, or I shall crush you like a reed!"

"I will not stir, I tell you!" she repeated, with wild energy.

"Take care! take care!" he said again; "I shall forget you are my mother!"

"I will not stir!"

A nervous tremor shook the limbs of the chief, who had now attained the highest paroxysm of fury.

"If you will have it so," he cried, in a husky, but loud voice, "your blood be upon your own head!"

And he dug the spurs into the sides of his horse, which plunged with pain, and then sprung forward like an arrow, dragging along the poor woman, whose body was soon but one huge wound. A cry of horror burst from the quivering lips of the terrified Indians. After a few minutes of this senseless course, during which she had left fragments of her flesh on every sharp point of the road, the strength of the Indian woman abandoned her; she left her hold of the bridle, and sank dying.

"Oh!" she said, in a faint voice, and following, with a look dimmed by agony, her son, as he was borne away like a whirlwind, "my unhappy son! my unhappy – "

She raised her eyes towards heaven, clasped her mangled hands, as if to offer up a last prayer, and fell back.

She died pitying the matricide, and pardoning him. The women of the tribe took up the body respectfully, and carried it, weeping, into the toldo. At the sight of the corpse, an old Indian shook his head several times, murmuring in a prophetic tone, —

"Antinahuel has killed his mother! Pillian will avenge her!"

And all bowed down their heads sorrowfully: this atrocious crime made them dread horrible misfortunes in the future.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE JUSTICE OF THE DARK-HEARTS

Don Tadeo and his friend Don Gregorio were introduced, after exchanging several passwords, into a subterraneous apartment, the entrance to which was perfectly concealed in the wall. The door closed immediately after them; the two men turned round sharply, but all signs of an opening had disappeared. Without taking further notice of this circumstance, which they no doubt had expected, they cast an inquiring glance around them, in order to obtain some knowledge of the locality. The place was admirably chosen for a meeting of conspirators. It was an immense apartment, which must have served for a long time as a cellar, as was made evident by the essentially alcoholic emanations still floating in the air; the walls were low and thick, and of a dirty red colour; a lamp with three jets, hanging from the roof, far from dispersing the darkness, seemed only to render it in a manner visible. In a recess stood a table, behind which a man in a mask was seated, near to two empty seats. Men enveloped in cloaks, and all wearing black velvet masks, were gliding about in the darkness, silent as phantoms.

Don Tadeo and his friend exchanged a glance, and without speaking a word, proceeded to take their places in the empty seats. As soon as they were seated, a change came over the meeting: the low whispering which had been heard till that moment ceased all at once, as if by enchantment. All the conspirators gathered in a single group in front of the table, and with arms crossed upon their chests, waited earnestly. The man who before the arrival of Don Tadeo had appeared to preside over the meeting arose, and casting round a confident glance on the attentive crowd, said —

"On this day the seventy-two ventas of the Dark-Hearts, spread over the territories of the republic, are assembled in council. In all of them the taking up of arms, of which we, the venta of Valdivia, will instantly give the signal, will be decreed. Everywhere men faithful to the good cause, true lovers of liberty, are preparing to commence the struggle with Bustamente. Will you all, comrades, who are here present, when the hour strikes, descend frankly and boldly into the arena? Will you sacrifice, without reserve, your family, your fortune, and even your life, if necessary, for the public good?"

He ceased, and a funereal silence prevailed in the assembly.

"Answer!" he resumed; "what will you do?"

"We will die!" the band of conspirators murmured, like a sinister and terrible echo.

"That is well, my brothers," Don Tadeo said, rising suddenly. "I expected no less from you, and I thank you. I have long known you all, and felt that I could depend upon you – I, whom none of you know. These masks which conceal you one from another, are but transparent gauze for the chief of the Dark-Hearts – and I am the King of Darkness! I have sworn that you shall live as free men, or that I will die! Before twenty-four hours have passed away, you will hear the signal you have so long waited for, and then will commence that terrible struggle which can only end in the death of the tyrant; all the provinces, all the cities, all the towns will rise en masse at the same instant; courage, then! You have only a few hours longer to suffer. The war of ambushes, surprises, of subterranean treacheries is ended; war, frank, loyal, open, in the face of the sun, is about to begin; let us show ourselves what we always have been, firm in our faith, and ready to die for our opinions! Let the chiefs of sections draw near."

Ten men left the ranks, and placed themselves silently ten paces from the table.

"Let the corporal of chiefs of sections answer for all," said Don Tadeo.

"I am the corporal," said one of the masked men; "the orders expedited from the Quinta Verde have been executed; all the sections are warned; they are all ready to rise at the first signal; each will take possession of the posts that are assigned it."

"So far well! How many men have you at your disposal?"

"Seven thousand three hundred and seventy-seven."

"Can you depend upon them all?"

"No."

"How many are there lukewarm or irresolute?"

"Four thousand."

"How many firm and convinced?"

"Nearly three thousand; but for these I will be answerable."

"That is well! we have even more than we want; the brave will attract others. Return to your places."

The chiefs of sections drew back,

"Now," Don Tadeo continued, "before we separate, I have to call down your justice upon one of our brothers, who, having entered deeply into our secrets, has been false to the society several times for a little gold; I have the proofs in my hands. The circumstances are of the utmost importance; one word – a single word – may ruin our cause and us! Say, what chastisement does this man deserve?"

"Death!" the conspirators responded, coolly, but simultaneously.

"I know this man," Don Tadeo continued; "let him come forth from the ranks, and not oblige me to tear off his mask, and hurl his name in his face."

No one stirred.

"This man is here – I can see him; for the last time, let him step forth, and not crown his baseness by seeking to avoid the punishment he merits."

The conspirators cast suspicious glances at each other; the assembly seemed moved by an extreme anxiety; the man, however, upon whom the King of Darkness called, persisted in remaining confounded amongst his companions.

Don Tadeo waited for an instant, but finding that the man whom he summoned imagined he should remain unknown, and not be discovered beneath his mask, he made a signal, and Don Gregorio rose and advanced towards the group of conspirators, which opened at his approach, and laid his hand roughly on the shoulder of a man who had instinctively retreated before him, until the wall forced him to stop.

"Come with me, Don Pedro," he said, and he dragged rather than led him to the table, behind which stood Don Tadeo, calm and implacable.

The guilty spy was seized with a convulsive trembling, his teeth chattered, and he fell upon his knees, crying with terror:

"Mercy, my lord, mercy!"

Don Gregorio tore off his mask, and revealed the face of the spy, whose features, horribly contracted by fear, and of an ashy paleness, were really hideous.

"Don Pedro," Don Tadeo said, in a stern voice, "you have several times sought to sell your brothers of the society; it was you who caused the death of the ten patriots shot upon the Place of Santiago; it was you who betrayed the secret of the Quinta Verde to the soldiers of Bustamente; this very day, even, scarcely two hours ago, you held a long conversation with General Bustamente, in which you agreed to deliver up to him tomorrow the principal chiefs of the Dark-Hearts: is that true?"

The miserable wretch had not a word to say in his defence; confounded, overwhelmed by the irresistible proofs accumulated against him, he hung down his head in utter abandonment.

"Is this true?" Don Tadeo reiterated.

"It is true," he murmured, in a scarcely audible voice.

"You acknowledge yourself guilty?"

"Yes," he said, with a heart-stifling sob; "but grant me life, noble seigneur, and I swear – "

"Silence!"

The spy was struck with mute despair.

"You have heard, companions and friends, how this man confesses his own crimes; for the last time, what punishment does he deserve for having sold his brothers?"

"Death!" replied the Dark-Hearts, without hesitation.

"In the name of the Dark-Hearts, of whom I am king, I condemn you, Don Pedro Saldillo, to death, for treachery and felony towards your brethren. You have five minutes to make your peace with Heaven," Don Tadeo said, sternly.

He placed his watch upon the table, and drawing a pistol from his belt, cocked it deliberately. The sharp noise of the hammer made the condemned man shudder with fear. A profound silence prevailed in the vault; the hearts of these implacable men might be heard beating in their breasts. The spy cast around wild, despairing glances, but beheld nothing but angry eyes gleaming upon him through hideous masks. Over the vault, in the chingana, they continued dancing, and faint puffs of sambacuejas penetrated, at intervals, mixed with uproarious bursts of laughter, even to the awful scene beneath. The contrast of this riotous mirth with the terrible act of justice which was being carried out, had something appalling in it.

"The five minutes are past," said Don Tadeo, in a firm voice.

"A few minutes more! a few minutes, my lord!" the spy implored, wringing his hands in despair. "I am not prepared; you cannot kill me thus! In the name of all you hold most dear, let me live!"

Without appearing to hear him, Don Tadeo lifted his pistol, and the miserable culprit rolled upon the ground, with his brains scattered around him.

"Oh!" he cried, as the pistol was aimed, "be accursed, ye assassins!" His death prevented the utterance of more.

The conspirators stood cold, impassive spectators of the scene. As soon as the stern act of justice was completed, at a signal from the chief, several men opened a trap in the floor which covered a hole half filled with quick lime; the body was thrown into it, and the trap closed again.

"Justice has been done, brothers," said Don Tadeo, solemnly; "go in peace, the King of Darkness watches over you."

The conspirators bowed respectfully, and disappeared one after the other, without uttering a word. At the end of a quarter of an hour no one remained in the vault but Don Tadeo and Don Gregorio.

"Oh!" said Don Tadeo, "Shall we always have thus to combat treachery?"

"Courage! my friend; you have yourself said, in a few hours war will commence in the face of day."

"God grant I may not be deceived! This contest in the dark makes frightful demands upon the mind; my heart begins to fail me!"

The two conspirators regained the chingana, in which the dancing, laughing, and drinking were going on with undiminished spirit; they passed through so as not to be observed, and came out into the street. They had hardly walked fifty steps when they were joined by a man, who, to their great surprise, proved to be Valentine Guillois.

"God be praised for bringing you here so opportunely!" said Don Tadeo.

"I hope I am punctual," the Parisian remarked, with a gay laugh.

Don Tadeo pressed his hand warmly, and drew him towards his residence, where our three personages soon arrived.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE TREATY OF PEACE

General Bustamente had come to Valdivia under the pretence of himself renewing the treaties which existed between the republic of Chili and the Araucanian Confederation. This pretext was excellent in the sense that it permitted him to concentrate a considerable force in the provinces, and gave him, besides, a plausible reason for receiving the most powerful Ulmens of the Indians, who would not fail to come to the meeting, accompanied by a great number of mosotones. Every time a new president is elected in Chili, the minister at war renews the treaties in his name. General Bustamente had, up to this moment, neglected to do so: he had good reasons for that. —

This ceremony, in which a great retinue is purposely displayed, generally takes place in a vast plain situated upon the Araucanian territories, and not at a great distance from Valdivia. By a curious coincidence, the pretext of the General suited equally well the interests of the three factions which, at this period, divided this unhappy country. The Dark-Hearts had skilfully profited by it to prepare the resistance they meditated, and Antinahuel, feigning to wish to pay the greatest honours to the war minister of the President of the republic, had collected a real army of his best warriors in the environs of the place chosen for the solemnity.