by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.
MONKS NO MORE.
The surmise which had influenced Zorillo to leaving the convent cellearlier than he intended was a correct one. The goings on in theRefectory were, at the time, of an unusual kind--a grand occasion, as hehad worded it. There were some fifty men in it; but not one of them noweffecting either the garb or the behaviour of the monk. Soldiers all;or at least in warlike guise; a few wearing regular though undressuniforms, but the majority habited as "guerilleros," in the picturesquecostumes of their country. They were booted, and belted, swords bytheir sides, with pistols in holsters hanging against the walls, andspurs ready for buckling on. Standing in corners were stacks ofcarbines, and lances freshly pennoned, with their blades bright frombeing recently sharpened--a panoply which spoke of fighting ere longexpected to take place.
It may be asked where were their horses, since all the arms andaccoutrements seen around were those of cavalry? But horses they had,though not there. Each knew where to lay hands on his own, far or near,stalled in the stable of some sequestered _rancho_, or, it might be,mountain cavern. They were not yet assembled to hearken to the call of"Boot and Saddle." That they would hear at a later hour, and in adifferent place.
The occasion of their being in such guise and together was because itwas to be the last night of their sojourn in the monastery. And theywere making it a merry one; the Refectory table was being loaded withthe best that was left to them in meals and drinks. Upon it were whatbottles remained of those famous wines from the bins of the rich_haciendado_--his forced contribution--and they were fast gettingemptied. From the way the _convives_ were quaffing, it was not likelythat any of the Burgundy, Madeira, or Pedro Ximenes would be leftbehind--not even a "heel-tap."
It had got to be midnight, and they were still in the midst of therevelry, when Rivas, who headed the table, rose to his feet, in thatformal manner which tells of speech to be made or toast proclaimed.
"_Camaradas_!" he said, as soon as the buzz of conversation had ended,"as you're aware, we part from this place to-night; and some of you knowwhither we are going and for what purpose. But not all; therefore Ideem it my duty to tell you. You saw a courier who came up early thismorning--bringing good news, I'm glad to say. This despatch I hold inmy hand is from an old friend, General Alvarez, who, though he may notboast _sangre-azul_ in his veins, is as brave a soldier and pure apatriot as any in the land. You know that. He tells me his _Pintos_are ready for a rising, and only wait for us--the `Free Lances'--withsome others he has summoned to join him in giving the _grito_. By hismessenger I have sent answer that we, too, are ready, and will respondto his summons. You all approve of that, I take it?"
"All!" was the exclaim in chorus, without a dissenting voice.
"Moreover," proceeded the speaker, "I've told the General we'll be onthe march to-morrow morning, and can meet him at a place he hasmentioned the day after. His plan is to attack the town of Oaxaca; and,if we succeed in taking it, then we move direct on the capital. Now_camarados_, I've nothing more to say; only that you're to scatter afteryour horses, and lose no time in mustering again--the old rendezvous,this side La Guarda."
So ended the speech of the Free Lances' leader; but despite thesuggestions of immediate departure, the circle around the table did notinstantly break up.
The bottles were not all empty as yet, nor the revellers satisfied toleave them till they should be so. Besides, there was no particularneed of haste for another hour or two. So they stuck to the table,smoking, drinking, and toasting many things, as persons, among thelatter their lately joined allies--the _Irlandes_ and _Tejano_, aboutwhose proved valour on other fields, of which they had heard, the FreeLances were enthusiastically eloquent.
Kearney, speaking in their own tongue, made appropriate response; whileRock, when told he had been toasted, delivered himself in characteristicstrain, saying:--
"Feller-citizens,--For since I tuk up yur cause, I reck'n you'll gi'e meleave to call ye so--it air a glad thing to this chile to think he'llsoon hev a bit o' fightin'. An' 'specially as it's to be agin oleSanty, the durned skunk. By the jumpin' Geehosofat! if Cris Rock ivergits longside him agin, as he war on't San Jacinty, there wan't be nomore meercy for the cussed tyrant, same as, like a set of fools, weTexans showed him thar an' then. Tell them what I sayed, Cap."
With which abrupt wind-up he dropped back upon his seat, gulping down atumblerful of best Madeira, as though it were table-beer.
Kearney did tell them, translating his comrade's speech faithfully asthe _patois_ would permit; which heightened their enthusiasm, many ofthem starting to their feet, rushing round the table, and, Mexicanfashion, enfolding the _Tejano_ in friendly embrace.
The hugging at an end, there was yet another toast to follow, the samewhich always wound up the festivals of the "Free Lances," whatever theoccasion. Their leader, as often before, now again pronounced it--
"_Patria y Libertad_".
And never before did it have more enthusiastic reception, the cheer thatrang through the old convent, louder than any laughter of monks who mayhave ever made it their home.
Ere it had ceased reverberating, the door of the Refectory was suddenlypushed open, and a man rushed into the room, as he entered, crying out--
"_Traicion_!"
"Treason!" echoed fifty voices as one, all again starting to their feet,and turning faces towards the alarmist. The major-domo it was, who, asthe other _mozos_, was half equipped for a journey.
"What mean you, Gregorio?" demanded his master.
"There's one can tell you better than I, Don Ruperto."
"Who? Where is he?"
"Outside, Senor. A messenger who has just come up--he's from SanAugustin."
"But how has he passed our sentry."
"Ah! _capitano_; I'd rather he told you himself."
Mysterious speech on the part of the major-domo, which heightened theapprehension of those hearing it. "Call him hither!" commanded Rivas.
No calling was needed; the person spoken of being in the environ closeby; and Gregorio, again opening the door, drew him inside.
"The _cochero_!" mentally exclaimed Rivas, Kearney, and the Texan, soonas setting eyes on him.
The _cochero_ it was, Jose, though they knew not his name, nor anythingmore of him than what they had learned in that note of the Condesa's,saying that he could be trusted, and their brief association with himafterwards--which gave them proof that he could.
As he presented himself inside the room he seemed panting for breath,and really was. He had only just arrived up the steep climb, andexchanged hardly half a dozen words with the major-domo, who had met himat the outside entrance.
Announced as a messenger, neither the Captain of the Free Lances norFlorence Kearney needed telling who sent him. A sweet intuition toldthem that. Rivas but asked--
"How have you found the way up here?"
"_Por Dios_! Senor, I've been here before--many's the time. I was bornamong these mountains--am well acquainted with all the paths everywherearound."
"But the sentry below. How did you get past him? You haven't thecountersign!"
"He wouldn't have heard it if I had, Senor. _Pobre_! he'll never hearcountersign again--nor anything else."
"Why? Explain yourself!"
"_Esta muerto_! He lies at the bottom of the cliff, his body crushed--"
"Who has done it? Who's betrayed us?" interrupted a volley of voices.
"The hunchback, Zorillo," answered Jose, to the astonishment of all.For in the dialogue between the dwarf and Santander, he had heard enoughto anticipate the ghastly spectacle awaiting him on his way up themountain.
Cries of anger and vengeance were simultaneously sent up; all showingeager to rush from the room. They but waited for a word more.
Rivas, however, suspecting that the messenger meant that word forhimself, claimed their indulgence, and led him outside, inviting Kearneyto accompany them.
Though covering much ground
, and relating to many incidents, the_cochero's_ story was quickly told. Not in the exact order ofoccurrence, but as questioned by his impatient listeners. He ranrapidly over all that happened since their parting at the corner of theCoyoacan road, the latter events most interesting them. Surprised werethey to hear that Don Ignacio and his daughter for some time had beenstaying at San Augustin--the Condesa with them. Had they but known thatbefore, in all probability things would not have been as now. Possiblythey might have been worse; though, even as they stood, there was enoughdanger impending over all. As for themselves, both Mexican andIrishman, less recked of it, as they thought of how they were beingwarned, and by whom. That of itself was recompense for all theirperils.
Meanwhile those left inside the room were chafing to learn theparticulars of the treason, though they were not all there now. Somehad sallied out, and gone down the cliff to bring up the body of theirmurdered comrade; others, the major-domo conducting, back to the placewhere the hunchback should be, but was not. There to find confirmationof what had been said. The cell untenanted; the window bar filedthrough and broken; the file lying by it, and the chain hanging downoutside.
Intelligible to them now was the tale of treason, without their hearingit told.
When once more they assembled in the Refectory, it was with chastened,saddened hearts. For they had come from digging a grave, and loweringinto it a corpse. Again gathered around the table, _they_ drank thestirrup-cup, as was their wont, but never so joylessly, or with suchstint.
