CHAPTER XVI.
A FRIENDLY DISCUSSION.
After leaving his enemy (for the mysterious man with whom he had sostormy a discussion could be nothing else), Red Cedar set out to jointhe regiment, and hasten its arrival according to the orders he hadreceived. In spite of himself, the squatter was suffering fromextraordinary nervousness, and involuntarily he went over the variouspoints of the conversation with the person who took such precautions incommunicating with him. The threats he had proffered recurred to hismind. It appeared as if the bandit, who feared nothing in the world, hadgood reason, however, for trembling in the presence of the man who, formore than an hour, had crushed him with his irony. What reason could beso powerful as to produce so startling a change in this indomitablebeing? No one could have said; for the squatter was master of hissecret, and would have mercilessly killed anybody he suspected of havingread even a portion of it.
The reason was, at any rate, very powerful; for after a few minutes ofdeep thought, his hand let go the reins and his head fell on his breast:the horse, no longer feeling the curb, stopped and began nibbling theyoung tree shoots. The squatter did not notice this halt; he wasthinking, and hoarse exclamations now and then came from his chest, likethe growling of a wild beast. At length he raised his head.
"No," he shouted, as he directed a savage glance at the starlit sky,"any struggle with that demon is impossible. I must fly, so soon aspossible, to the prairies of the far west. I will leave this implacablefoe; I will fly from him, as the lion does, carrying off my prey in myclaws. I have not a moment to lose. What do I care for the Spaniards andtheir paltry disputes? General Ventura will seek another emissary, formore important matters claim my attention. I must go to the Rancho delCoyote, for there alone I shall find my revenge. Fray Ambrosio and hisprisoner can supply me with the weapons I need for the terrible contestI am compelled to wage against that demon who comes straight from hell,and whom I will send back there."
After having uttered these words in a low voice, in the fashion of menwont to live in solitude, Red Cedar appeared to regain all his boldnessand energy. He looked savagely around, and, burying his spurs in hishorse's flanks, he started with the speed of an arrow in the directionof the rancho, which he had left but a few hours previously, and wherehis two accomplices still remained.
The monk and the gambusino, delighted at the unforeseen termination ofthe scene we recently narrated, delighted above all at having got rid ofDona Clara without being immediately mixed up in her escape, tranquillyresumed their game of _monte_, and played with that mental satisfactionproduced by the certainty of having nothing to reproach themselves with,disputing with the utmost obstinacy for the few reals they stillhappened to have in their pockets. In the midst of a most interestinggame, they heard the furious gallop of a horse up the paved street.Instinctively they stopped and listened; a secret foreboding seemed towarn them that this horse was coming to the rancho, and that its riderwanted them.
In truth, neither Fray Ambrosio nor Andres Garote had a quietconscience, even supposing, which was very doubtful, that either had aconscience at all, for they felt they were responsible to Red Cedar forDona Clara. Now that the maiden had escaped like, a bird flying from itscage, their position with their terrible ally appeared to them in allits desperate gravity. They did not conceal from themselves that thesquatter would demand a severe account of their conduct, and despitetheir cunning and roguishness, they knew not how they should get out ofit. The sharp gallop of the approaching horse heightened theirperplexity. They dared not communicate their fears to each other, butthey sat with heads bent forward, foreseeing that they would soon haveto sustain a very firm attack.
The horse stopped short before the rancho; a man dismounted, and thedoor shook beneath the tremendous blows of his fists.
"Hum!" the gambusino whispered, as he blew out the solitary candle thatillumined the room. "Who the deuce can come at this advanced hour of thenight! I have a great mind not to open."
Strange to say, Fray Ambrosio had apparently regained all his serenity.With a smiling face, crossed arms, and back leaned against the wall, heseemed to be a perfect stranger to what perplexed his mate so furiously.At Garote's remark an ironical smile played round his pale lips for asecond, and he replied with the most perfect indifference--
"You are at liberty to act as you please, gossip; still I think it myduty to warn you of one thing?"
"What is it?"
"That, if you do not open your door, the man, whoever he may be, nowbattering it, is very capable of breaking it in, which would be adecided nuisance for you."
"You speak very much at your ease, senor Padre," the gambusino answered,ill-temperedly. "Suppose it be Red Cedar?"
"The greater reason to open the door. If you hesitate, he will begin tosuspect you; and then take care, for he is a man capable of killing youlike a dog."
"That is possible; but do you think that, in such a case, you willescape with clean hands?"
Fray Ambrosio looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, but made no furtheranswer.
"Will you open, _demonios_?" a rough voice shouted.
"Red Cedar!" both men whispered.
"I am coming," Andres replied, in a voice which terror caused totremble.
He rose unwillingly, and walked slowly towards the door, which thesquatter threatened to tear from its hinges.
"A little patience, caballero," the gambusino said, in that honeyedvoice peculiar to Mexicans when they meditate some roguery. "Coming,coming."
And he began unbarring the door.
"Make haste!" the squatter howled, "For I am in a hurry."
"Hum! It is surely he!" the gambusino thought. "Who are you?" he asked.
"What! Who am I?" Red Cedar exclaimed, bounding with wrath. "Did you notrecognise me, or are you having a game with me?"
"I never have a game with anyone," Andres replied, imperturbably: "but Iwarn you that, although I fancy I recognise your voice, I shall not opentill you mention your name. The night is too far advanced for me to riskreceiving a suspicious person into my house."
"I will break the door down."
"Try it," the gambusino shouted boldly, "and by our Lady of Pilar I willsend a bullet through your head."
At this threat the squatter rushed against the door in incredible fury,with the evident intention of breaking it in; but, contrary to hisexpectations, though it creaked and groaned on its hinges, it did notgive way. Andres Garote had indulged in a line of reasoning which wasfar from being illogical, and revealed a profound knowledge of the humanheart. He had said to himself, that, as he must face Red Cedar's anger,it would be better to let it reach its paroxysm at once so as to haveonly the decreasing period to endure. He smiled at the American'ssterile attempts, then, and repeated his request.
"Well, then," the other said, furiously, "I am Red Cedar. Do yourecognise me now, you devil's own Gachupino?"
"Of course; I see that I can open without danger to your Excellency."
And the gambusino hurriedly drew back the bolts.
Red Cedar rushed into the room with a yell of fury, but Andres had putout the light. The squatter stopped, surprised by the gloom whichprevented him distinguishing any object.
"Hallo!" he said. "What is the meaning of this darkness? I can seenothing."
"_Caspita_!" Andres replied, impudently, "Do you think I amuse myself o'nights by watching the moon? I was asleep, compadre, when you came toarouse me with your infernal hammerings."
"That is possible," the squatter remarked; "but that was no reason forkeeping me so long at your door."
"Prudence is the mother of security. We must not let every comer enterthe rancho."
"Certainly not; I approve of that. Still, you must have recognised myvoice."
"True. Still I might be mistaken; it is difficult to know anyone throughthe thickness of a door; that is why I wished you to give your name."
"Very good, then," Red Cedar said, as if tired of combating argumentswhich did not convince him.
"And where is Fray Ambrosio?"
"Here, I suppose."
"He has not left the rancho?"
"No; unless he took advantage of your arrival to do so."
"Why should he do that?"
"I don't know; you question, and I answer; that's all."
"Why does he not speak, if he is here?"
"He is possibly asleep."
"After the row I made, that is highly improbable."
"Hang it, he may be a hard sleeper."
"Hum!" the squatter snorted, suspiciously; "Light the candle."
Andres struck a match, and Red Cedar looked eagerly round the room FrayAmbrosio had disappeared.
"Where is the monk?" the American asked.
"I do not know: probably gone."
The squatter shook his head.
"All this is not clear," he muttered; "there is treachery behind it."
"That is possible," the gambusino answered, calmly.
Red Cedar bent on Andres eyes that flashed with fury, and roughly seizedhim by the throat.
"Answer, scoundrel?" he shouted. "What has become of Dona Clara?"
The gambusino struggled, though in vain, to escape from the clutch ofthe squatter, whose fingers entered his flesh, and pressed him as in avice.
"Let me loose," he panted, "you are choking me!"
"Where is Dona Clara?"
"I do not know."
The squatter squeezed more tightly.
"You do not know!" he yelled.
"Aie!" Andres whined, "I tell you I do not know."
"Malediction!" Red Cedar went on. "I will kill you, _picaro_, if you areobstinate."
"Let that man go, and I will tell you all you wish to know," was said ina firm voice by a hunter, who at this moment appeared on the threshold.
The two men turned in amazement.
"Nathan!" Red Cedar shouted on recognising his son. "What are you doinghere?"
"I will tell you, father," the young man said, as he entered the room.
The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West Page 40
