The Insurgent Chief

"Pardon, my friend; you owe them two months."

"How is that?"

"Because I have renewed their engagement for two months this very morning at the same price; for that matter it is not dear; the fellows have a certain value."

"What a strange idea to hamper us afresh with these wretches! Would it not have been better to have got rid of them, and to send them to get hanged somewhere else?"

"As to being hanged, make your mind easy; that will happen to them sooner or later. Meanwhile, I have thought it preferable to keep them in our service. Do you remember, my friend, that when we fight against bandits we should have some of the same stamp in our interests?"

"Arrange it as you like, that's your affair; for you do everything here according to your own notions. I Keep them or don't keep them – I wash my hands of it."

"You are merry, my friend?"

"No, I am sad; I have sometimes a temptation to put an end to it by blowing out the brains of that cursed Pincheyra, and then taking the same leap myself."

"Be careful not to give way to these temptations, my friend; not that I interest myself the least in the world in these Pincheyras, for I am reserving for Don Pablo and his brothers a dish of my own preparing, which they will find too highly spiced, I am convinced; but the moment has not yet come. Let us be patient, and, for a commencement, be present at the interview today, my friend; and open your ears, for if I do not much deceive myself, you will hear strange things."

"Yes, yes, I suppose that an interview with the colonel – for he has definitively taken this grade on his own authority – must be fertile in curious incidents."

"I wish to leave you the pleasure of the surprise, my friend. Are you going out?" added he, seeing his master proceeding towards the door.

"I intend to pay my respects to the ladies."

"You will not have time for it; moreover, you could not talk freely with them; the two sisters of Don Pablo are at present with them."

"These women appear to have received orders not to lose sight of these two unhappy ladies; they pass nearly the whole day with them."

"It is probable that they have received instructions of the kind."

The young man did not answer, but he knitted his eyebrows, stamped with rage, and began to walk to and fro.

Some minutes elapsed

"Parbleu!" cried he at last, "I am a perfect ass to fret thus about things which cannot affect me, and which I cannot prevent! It is evident, in fact, that as life is a continual game of seesaw, when I shall have; reached the last step of bad fortune, I must remount, and that, according to fate, my position will improve. Bah! I will trust to Providence. He is more skilful than me, and will know well, when it pleases Him, how to enable me to escape from my embarrassment! However, it appears to me that it is time for a change; I am horribly wearied here. Upon my word, it was a splendid idea to come into this new world to seek tranquillity and patriarchal manners! Mercy on us! What patriots these Pincheyras are! And how true and copied from nature are the narratives of travel!"

And he laughed heartily.

As what precedes had been said in French, and consequently the Indian had not understood a word, he looked at the young man with a wondering air, which redoubled the hilarity of the latter; so that the Guaraní asked himself if his master had not suddenly gone mad. But a new personage at the moment appeared in the toldo, and by his presence calmed, as by enchantment, the gaiety of the Frenchman, and rendered him serious again.

This personage was no other than Don Santiago Pincheyra, one of the brothers of Don Pablo; he to whom the young man had rendered so great a service on the occasion of his skirmish with the squadron of Zeno Cabral.

Brutal and morose as was Don Santiago, he appeared to have preserved some gratitude to the painter for this service, and on several occasions he had manifested a slight interest in him. It was owing to his influence that the painter was treated with consideration in the camp of the partisans, and nearly free to act in his own way without being exposed to the gross annoyances of this undisciplined troop of bandits.

"I see with pleasure that you do not breed melancholy among you, Seigneurs Frenchmen," said he, holding out his hand. "So much the better! Grief would kill a cat, as we say."

"You see that I adapt myself to circumstances," answered Emile, pressing his hand. "To answer your proverb by another, I will say, things that can't be helped should be forgotten. What brings me the honour of your visit, dear Seigneur?"

"First, the desire of seeing you, and then, a message from my brother, Don Pablo Pincheyra."

"Believe me, that I feel as I ought this proof of courtesy, dear Seigneur," said the young man, bowing with politeness; "and this message that, through you, his Excellency Colonel Don Pablo Pincheyra does me the honour to send is important, no doubt?"

"You will decide that better than me, Señor; my brother requests your presence at the interview which is immediately to take place with some Spanish officers, who arrived about an hour ago at our headquarters."

"I am honoured by his Excellency deigning to think of me. I will present myself at the council when I shall have received the order to do so."

"This order I bring you, Seigneur Frenchman, and if you please to follow me I will accompany you to the place chosen for the interview, which is the council room in my brother's toldo."

"Very well, Seigneur Don Santiago, I am ready to follow you."

"Then we will set out together; for they only wait for you."

The painter exchanged with the Guaraní a last look, to which the latter responded by one not less significant, and, without saying anything further, he left the toldo with Don Santiago.

All was gossip at Casa-Frama; the unforeseen arrival of the strangers had awakened general curiosity; the streets were literally crammed with men, women, and children, who pressed towards the toldo of the colonel.

The two men had much difficulty in threading a passage through the crowd of idlers who obstructed the public way; and had it not been for Don Santiago, known and respected by all, the Frenchman would probably not have succeeded in reaching the spot he wanted.

Although the abode of Don Pablo Pincheyra bore the name of toldo, it was in reality a vast and airy house, built with the greatest possible care for the convenience of its owner. The walls were of clay, plastered and whitewashed carefully. Ten windows, with shutters painted green, and ornamented with climbing plants, which grew in various directions, gave it an air of gaiety which made it pleasant to look at. The door, preceded by a peristyle and a verandah, was in the centre of the building. Before this door a flagstaff was planted in the earth, surmounted by a Spanish flag. Two sentinels, armed with lances, were seated, one at the threshold of the door, the other at the foot of the flagstaff. A battery of six pieces of cannon was pointed a few paces in advance, half hidden at this moment by thirty horses, all harnessed, which champed their bits, and covered them with foam.

At the sight of Don Santiago the sentinels presented arms, and moved aside respectfully to give him passage, while the crowd was kept at a distance by some soldiers, previously placed there for that purpose, and had no other means of slaking their curiosity than that of questioning the attendants of the strangers who were watching their master's horses.

The two men entered the house. After having passed through a hall full of soldiers, they entered a room where several officers were talking in a high voice about the arrival of the strangers. Some of these officers approached Don Santiago to ask him the news; but the latter, who perhaps knew no more than they on this subject, or who had received strict instructions from his brother, only gave them evasive answers, and putting them aside gently with, his hand, he at last entered the council room, followed closely by the French painter, who began to be much interested in all he saw.

The council room was a rather large apartment, the whitewashed walls of which were completely bare, with the exception of a large Christ in ivory, placed at the extremity of the room, above an armchair occupied at the moment by Don Pablo Pincheyra. To the right of this figure a wretched engraving, frightfully illuminated, purported to represent the King of Spain, crowned, and with the scepter in his hand. To the left an engraving, not less ugly, represented, or was supposed to represent, Our Lady of Solitude.

The furniture was mean and primitive; some few benches and stools ranged against the walls, and a small table, formed the whole of it.

Don Pablo Pincheyra, dressed in the uniform of a Spanish colonel, was seated in his armchair; near him was his brother, Don José Antonio, on the right; the place of Don Santiago on his left was for the time vacant; then came Father Gomez, chaplain of Don Pablo – a fat and jovial monk, but whose eyes sparkled with wit; several officers – captains, lieutenants, and subalterns, grouped without order round their chief – were leaning on their sabres, and carelessly smoking their cigarettes, talking in a low voice.

Before the table was seated a tall, lean man, with ascetic features, and ambiguous, deceitful eyes. This was Don Justo Vallejos, Secretary of Don Pablo; for, as he had given himself the luxury of a chaplain, this worthy colonel no doubt had felt all the greater need of attaching a secretary to his person.

A cabo or corporal stood near the door, and filled; the functions of doorkeeper, introducing the visitors.

"At last!" cried Don Pablo, perceiving the Frenchman; "I began to fear that you would not come."

"We have had great difficulty in reaching here," answered Don Santiago, taking the place which had been reserved for him.

"Now you have come, all is ready, Señor Frenchman; place yourself there, near my secretary. Cabo Mendez, bring a chair for this gentleman."

The young man bowed silently, and, as he had received the order to do, he sat down near the secretary, who in turn bowed, and cast a furtive look at him by way of salute.

"Now, caballeros," pursued Don Pablo, addressing the company, "do not forget that representatives of his Most Sacred Majesty the King, our sovereign, are about to appear before us. Let us act, then, as the true caballeros that we are, and let us prove to them that we are not so savage as they perhaps have supposed."

The officers answered by a respectful bow, sat upright, and threw away their cigarettes.

Looking around him, Don Pablo assured himself that his wishes had been attended to, and that his officers had assumed an attitude more becoming than that they had previously taken, and then, turning towards the corporal, motionless at the door, on the lock of which his hand was placed —

"Cabo Mendez," said he, "introduce to us the representatives of his Catholic Majesty the King of Spain and the Indies."

The corporal opened both leaves of the door, and the persons expected, who were in an adjoining apartment, entered the room with a grave and measured tread, after the corporal had repeated, with a clear voice, and in an emphatic tone, the last words of Don Pablo Pincheyra.

These strangers, to whom was given a title to which they probably had a very doubtful right, were to the number of five.

Their escort had remained without. On perceiving them the young Frenchman with difficulty repressed an exclamation of surprise. Of the five persons he had recognized two whom he certainly was far from expecting to meet under such circumstances.

CHAPTER VII

THE INTERVIEW

If Emile Gagnepain became somewhat more calm, certainly the strange spectacle that he had before him had aroused not only his gaiety but his caustic fancy. This shameless parody of interviews accorded by the chiefs of a powerful nation to the representatives of another – played seriously by bandits with low and cruel features, and hands red with blood – half fox and half wolf – whose affected manners had something despicable and repulsive in them – disagreeably impressed the young man, and caused him to experience an undefinable sentiment of disgust and pity for the Spanish officers, who did not scruple to come and humbly implore the aid of these ferocious partisans, whom for a long time they had implacably pursued, to punish them for their innumerable misdeeds.

And, in fact, the Spanish officers appeared to be perfectly aware of their anomalous position, and of the reprehensible step, with regard to honour and the right of nations, that they did not at this moment scruple to take.

Notwithstanding the assurance they affected and their haughty bearing, the blush of shame covered their faces. In spite of them their heads drooped, and their eyes rested only with a kind of hesitation on the persons by whom they were surrounded, and who, without doubt, they wished had been less numerous.

This unusual ceremony, displayed before them with the evident design of cutting them off from all retreat, and of engaging them irrevocably, weighed upon them; for they understood all the bearings of such a measure, and the effect it could not fail to have beyond the mountains.

The bearing of the Pincheyras formed a striking contrast to that of the Spaniards.

Tumultuously grouped round their chiefs, with mocking eye and sardonic lip, they whispered to each other, throwing over their shoulders disdainful glances at those whose bad fortune constrained them to seek their aid.

Don Pablo Pincheyra and his brothers alone preserved a becoming countenance. They felt their hearts swell with pride as they thought of the past, which fortune, by one of her incomprehensible caprices, called on them suddenly to play. They looked upon this attitude as serious, and really believed themselves called upon to replace, by the force of their arms, under Spanish domination, those rich colonies which had so providentially escaped them, by that just and implacable law of retaliation which wills that, sooner or later, the executioners shall become in their turn victims of those whom they have martyred.

When the strangers had been introduced by the cabo, and the first salutations had been exchanged, Don Pablo Pincheyra commenced —

"Welcome to Casa-Frama, caballeros," said he, beginning with studied politeness; "I will try, while you are pleased to stay among us, to render your visit agreeable."

"I thank you, caballero, in the name of my companions and my own," answered one of the strangers, "for the gracious welcome you have been pleased to give us; permit me on one point only to correct you. It is not a visit that we make to you and your brave companions, so devoted and loyal champions of Spain; we come charged with an important mission by our sovereign and yours."

"We are ready to listen to this message, caballero; but first will you be so good as to acquaint us with your name and those of the honourable persons who accompany you."

The stranger bowed.

"I am," he said, "Don Antonio Zinozain de Figueras, lieutenant colonel in the service of his Majesty the King of Spain and the Indies."

"I have very often heard your name, Señor caballero," interrupted Don Pablo.

"Two others, captains of his Majesty, have been attached to me," continued Don Antonio, directing the partisan's attention to them, "Don Lucio Ortega and Don Estevan Mendoza."

The two officers, whose names had just been mentioned, ceremoniously bowed.

Pincheyra darted a piercing look at them, and addressing him who had been designated by the name of Don Estevan Mendoza —

"Prudence, no doubt, has induced you, caballero, to conceal yourself modestly under the name of Don Estevan."

"Señor – " stammered the Spaniard.

"Reassure yourself, caballero," continued Don Pablo; "although these precautions are useless, I understand your scruples; your incognito shall be respected."

Don Estevan – or at least the person who had given himself this name – blushed with shame and confusion at these cutting words, but he found no words to answer, and bowed silently with an ill-concealed gesture of spite.

Don Pablo smiled slyly, and turning towards Don Antonio —

"Continue, I beg, caballero," said he.

The latter had been as surprised as annoyed at the mocking observation of the partisan, and it was with some difficulty that he succeeded in concealing the annoyance he felt; however, thus questioned by Don Pablo, he bowed and answered —

"The two other persons who accompany me are – the one an Indian Araucan chief, renowned – "

"I know him," said Pincheyra. "A long time ago Captain Marilaün and I slept side by side under the same toldo, as two brothers who loved each other; I am, then, happy to see him."

"And I also," answered the chief in excellent Spanish. "If it had only depended on my will, I should have united myself to your chief several months ago, for you are brave as the most redoubtable Ulmen of my tribe."

Don Pablo pressed the hand of the chief.

"It only remains to me, caballero," pursued Don Antonio, "to present to you this officer."

"It is needless, caballero," quickly interrupted Don Pablo; "when the time arrives he will present himself, informing us of the motives which lead to his presence among us. Will you now be so good as to acquit yourself of the mission with which you are charged, in making us acquainted with the message of which you are the bearers."

"Señor caballero," pursued Don Antonio Zinozain, "the king, my master and yours, satisfied with the services you have rendered to his government since the commencement of this deplorable revolt, has deigned to confer on you the grade of colonel."

"I thank his Majesty for his kind solicitude for me," answered Don Pablo with a sardonic smile, "but the grade which he is good enough to confer upon me today, my sword has long ago conquered for me in the battlefield, where I have poured out my blood like water, to maintain the rights of his sacred Majesty."

"I know it caballero, but it is not to this distinction only that his Majesty confines his favours."

"I am listening to you, Señor."

"His Majesty has not only resolved to place under your immediate orders a body of two hundred men of regular cavalry, commanded by myself and other officers of the army, but also he authorises you, by a decree duly signed by him and registered in the chancellor's office, to take for the corps placed under your orders the title of the Faithful Corps of Mountain Chasseurs, to hoist the royal standard quartered with Castile and León, and to place the Spanish cockade on the hats of your soldiers."

"His Majesty accords me these signal favours?" interrupted Dou Pablo, with a joyous trembling in his voice.

"Moreover," impassively continued Don Antonio Zinozain, "his Majesty, considering that, up to the present time, guided solely by your devotion and your inviolable fidelity, you have sustained the war at your own risk and peril, dispensing and compromising your own fortune for his service, without hope of regaining these enormous disbursements – his Majesty, I say, whose high wisdom nothing escapes, has thought fit to give you a proof of his high satisfaction at this loyal conduct. He has consequently ordered that a sum of 100,000 piastres should be immediately placed at your disposal, in order to cover a part of your expenses. Moreover, he authorises you to take in advance, from all the war contributions that you shall impose on the towns which fall in your power, a tenth, of which you shall dispose as you think fit, as being entirely your own property, and this to the amount of another 100,000 piastres. His Majesty, besides, charges me, through his Excellency the Viceroy, his delegate and bearer of full powers, to assure you of his high satisfaction and of his desire not to limit to what he has done today the reward that he reckons to accord to you in the future."

"So," said Don Pablo, standing erect with a proud smile, "I am now really a war chief."

"His Majesty has so decided," coldly answered Don Antonio.

"¡Vive Dios!" cried the partisan with a menacing gesture; "his Majesty has done well, for I swear that of all those who now fight for his cause, I shall be the last to lay down arms if I die for it. Never will I consent to treat with the rebels, and this oath I will keep, ¡rayo de Cristo! Even if heaven and earth should league against me to weigh me down, I hope that, a century hence, the grandchildren of the men that we now fight should still tremble at the memory of my name."

The ferocious partisan had risen as he uttered this terrible imprecation; he had bowed his tall figure, thrown back his head, and placed his hand on the pommel of his sabre, whilst he cast at those around him a look of inexpressible arrogance and of savage energy.

The assembly were moved by these bold words; an electric shock appeared to run through them, and suddenly the whole room burst out into cries and exclamations; and then, the partisans warming by degrees through their own excitement, soon reached a paroxysm of joy and delirium.

Primitive natures are easy to draw out. These men, half savages, felt themselves recompensed by the honours accorded to their chief; they were proud of him, and manifested their joy in their own way – that is to say, by bawling out and gesticulating.

The Spaniards themselves shared to a certain extent the general excitement. For a time, hope, nearly extinguished, arose as strongly in their hearts as on the first day, and they persuaded themselves into the belief in a success henceforth impossible.

In fact, at the point at which affairs had now arrived, this last attempt made by the Spaniards was but an act of foolish temerity, the result of which could not but be the prolongation, without any necessity, of a war of extermination between men of the same race, speaking the same language – an impious war, and a sacrilege which they ought, on the contrary, to have terminated as soon as possible, in order to spare bloodshed, instead of leaving America under the burden of general reprobation. But they were driven forward much more by the hatred of the colonists towards themselves, than by a sentiment of patriotism and nationality, that the latter did not yet understand, and which could not exist on a land which never, since its discovery, had been free.

Emile Gagnepain, the only spectator, apart from his reasons as to personal safety, completely disinterested in the question, could not, however, preserve his indifference, and assist coldly at this scene. He would even have ended by giving way to the general excitement, if the presence of the two Spanish officers – the first cause of all his misfortunes – had not restrained him, by inspiring a secret apprehension which he vainly tried to combat, but which, spite of all his efforts, continued with an obstinacy more and more disquieting to him.

Although the young Frenchman was prominently placed near Don Pablo Pincheyra's secretary, the Spaniards, from their entrance into the room, had not appeared to notice him. Not once had their eyes been directed to him, although they must have seen him. This obstinacy in feigning not to see him appeared the more extraordinary on the part of these two men, as they had no ostensible motive for avoiding him – at least he supposed so.

Emile was only waiting for the interview to terminate to approach Captain Ortega, and ask him to explain a proceeding which was not only painful to him, but which seemed to denote intentions anything but friendly towards himself.

When the tumult began to subside, and the partisans had by degrees ceased their vociferations, Don Pablo claimed silence with a gesture, and prepared to take leave of the Spanish envoys, but Don Antonio Zinozain took a step in advance, and turning towards the Indian chief, who, up till then, had remained impassable and mute, listening to and observing all that was passing around him, though taking no part in it.

"Has my brother Marilaün nothing, then, to say to the great pale chief?" asked he.

"Yes," sharply answered the Araucan, "I have sworn this: Marilaün is a powerful Apo-Ulmen among the Aucas; a thousand warriors when he demands them follow his horse wherever he is pleased to conduct them; his quipu is obeyed on all the territory of the Puelches and the Huiliches; Marilaün loves the grandfather of the palefaces; he will fight with his warriors to bring back to their duty the wandering sons of the Toqui of the whites. Five hundred Huiliche and Puelche horsemen will range themselves near the Pincheyra when he orders it, for Pincheyra has always been a friend of the Aucas, and they consider him as a child of their tribe. I have said. Have I spoken well, powerful men?"