The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the Mountains

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  A NOCTURNAL SORTIE.

  From that day, each return of twilight's gentle hour saw me in the Calledel Obispo. The sun was not more certain to set behind the snow-crownedCordilleras, than I to traverse the street where dwelt MercedesVilla-Senor.

  Her name and condition had been easily ascertained. Any stray passengerencountered in the street could tell, who lived in the grand _casa_ withthe frescoed front.

  "Don Eusebio Villa-Senor--_un rico_--with two daughters, _muchachas muylindas_!" was the reply of him, to whom I addressed the inquiry.

  I was further informed, that Don Eusebio was of Spanish descent, thougha Mexican by birth; that in the veins of his daughters flowed only theAndalusian blood--the pure _sangre azul_. His was one of the _familiasprincipales_ of Puebla.

  There was nothing in this knowledge to check my incipient admiration ofDon Eusebio's daughter. Quite the contrary.

  As I had predicted, I was soon in the vortex of an impetuous passion;and without ever having spoken to her who inspired it!

  There was no chance to hold converse with her. We were permitted nocorrespondence with the _familias principales_, beyond the dryformalities which occasionally occurred in official intercourse. Butthis was confined to the men. The senoritas were closely kept withindoors, and as jealously concealed from us as if every house had been aharem.

  My admiration was too earnest to be restrained by such triflingobstructions; and I succeeded in obtaining an occasional, thoughdistant, view of her who had so interested me.

  My glances--given with all the fervour of a persistent passion--with allits audacity--could scarce be misconstrued.

  I had the vanity to think they were not; and that they were returnedwith looks that meant more than kindness.

  I was full of hope and joy. My love affair appeared to be progressingtowards a favourable issue; when that change, already recorded, cameover the inhabitants of Puebla--causing them to assume towards us theattitude of hostility.

  It is scarce necessary to say that the new state of things was not to myindividual liking. My twilight saunterings had, of necessity, to bediscontinued; and upon rare occasions, when I found a chance of resumingthem, I no longer saw aught of Mercedes Villa-Senor!

  She, too, had no doubt been terrified into that hermitical retirement--among the senoritas now universal.

  Before this terrible time came about, my passion had proceeded too farto be restrained by any ideas of danger. My hopes had grown inproportion; and stimulated by these, I lost no opportunity of stealingout of quarters, and seeking the Calle del Obispo.

  I was alike indifferent to danger in the streets, and the standing orderto keep out of them. For a stray glance at her to whom I hadsurrendered my sword-knot, I would have given up my commission; and toobtain the former, almost daily did I risk losing the latter!

  It was all to no purpose. Mercedes was no more to be seen.

  Uncertainty about her soon became a torture; I could endure it nolonger. I resolved to seek some mode of communication.

  How fortunate for lovers that their thoughts can be symbolised uponpaper! I thought so as I indited a letter, and addressed it to the"Dona Mercedes Villa-Senor."

  How to get it conveyed to her, was a more difficult problem.

  There were men servants who came and went through the great gateway ofthe mansion. Which of them was the one least likely to betray me?

  I soon fixed my reflections upon the _cochero_--a tall fellow invelveteens, whom I had seen taking out the sleek carriage horses. Therewas enough of the "picaro" in his countenance, to inspire me withconfidence that he could be _suborned_ for my purpose.

  I determined on making trial of him. If a doubloon should provesufficient bribe, my letter would be delivered.

  In my twilight strolls, often prolonged to a late hour, I had noticedthat this domestic sallied forth: as if, having done his day's duty, hehad permission to spend his evenings at the _pulqueria_. The plan wouldbe to waylay him, on one of his nocturnal sorties; and this was what Idetermined on doing.

  On the night of that same day on which I indited the epistle, theOfficer of the Guard chanced to be my particular friend. It was notchance either: since I had chosen the occasion. I had no difficulty,therefore, in giving the countersign; and, wrapped in a cloth cloak--intended less as a protection against the cold than to conceal myuniform--I proceeded onward upon my errand of intrigue.

  I was favoured by the _complexion_ of the night. It was dark as coaltar--the sky shrouded with a thick stratum of thunder clouds.

  It was not yet late enough for the citizens to have forsaken thestreets. There were hundreds of them, strolling to and fro, all nativesof the place--most of them men of the lower classes--with a largeproportion of "leperos."

  There was not a soldier to be seen--except here and there the solitarysentry, whose presence betokened the entrance to some military cuartel.

  The troops were all inside--in obedience to the standing order. Therewere not even the usual squads of drunken stragglers in uniform. Thefear of assault and assassination was stronger than the propensity for"raking"--even among regiments whose rank and file was almost entirelycomposed of the countrymen of Saint Patrick.

  A stranger passing through the place could scarce have suspected thatthe city was under American occupation. There was but slight sign ofsuch control. The Poblanos appeared to have the place to themselves.

  They were gay and noisy--some half intoxicated with _pulque_, andinclined to be quarrelsome. The leperos, no longer in awe of their ownnational authorities, were demeaning themselves with a degree of licenceallowed by the abnormal character of the times.

  In my progress along the pavement I was several times accosted in acoarse bantering mariner; not on account of my American uniform--for mycloak concealed this--but because _I wore a cloak_! I was taken for anative "aristocrat."

  Better that it was so: since the insults were only verbal, and offeredin a spirit of rude badinage. Had my real character been known, theymight have been accompanied by personal violence.

  I had not gone far before becoming aware of this; and that I had startedupon a rash, not to say perilous, enterprise.

  It was of that nature, however, that I could not give it up; even had Ibeen threatened with ten times the danger.

  I continued on, holding my cloak in such a fashion, that it might notflap open.

  By good luck I had taken the precaution to cover my head with a Mexicansombrero, instead of the military cap; and as for the gold stripes on mytrowsers, they were but the fashion of the Mexican _majo_.

  A walk of twenty minutes brought me into the Calle del Obispo.

  Compared with some of the streets, through which I had been passing, itseemed deserted. Only two or three solitary pedestrians could be seentraversing it, under the dim light of half a dozen oil lamps set at longdistances apart.

  One of these was in front of the Casa Villa-Senor. More than once ithad been my beacon before, and it guided me now.

  On the opposite side of the street there was another grand house with aportico. Under the shadow of this I took my stand, to await the comingforth of the cochero.