The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the Mountains

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

  PARADISE FROM THE PILLORY.

  Another terrace was ascended; and before us stood the house--a massivestructure of quadrangular shape only one story in height, but surmountedby an _azotea_ with a parapet running around it.

  It was placed upon a platform of limited extent; backed by a precipitousslope, of which the platform was the base; and flanked by two cliffsthat scarped off in the opposite direction--downward.

  What might be called the gables of the dwelling were flush with theflanking cliffs; but between its rear and the ascending slope was aninclosed space--forming a _corral_, or courtyard.

  Its _facade_ lay towards the smooth space in front; that declined gentlyfrom the walls, like the glacis of a fortification.

  A better site for defence could scarcely have been chosen. No foe couldadvance by either flank; and an attacking party from the front would beexposed while crossing the open ground. The place might be moresuccessfully assailed from the rear--by an enemy coming over the top ofthe sierra.

  The idea of defence could not have been entertained. On the Indianfrontier, yes; but in the valley of Mexico--tranquil since the time ofMoctezuma--there had been no fighting. The structure could have nothingto do with the revolutionary era. It was too ancient for that.

  It was difficult to understand why such a dwelling had been erected insuch a place. It could not be an agricultural establishment: there wasno arable land within reach. Nor yet a _hacienda de ganados_: sincethere was no pasture upon the pine-covered slopes that surrounded it.

  Had it been built by the monks? Perhaps by some eccentric recluse, whohad chosen the site, for the purpose of contemplating civilisation,without being disturbed by it?

  These thoughts were things of an after-time; when, upon an excursion ofcuriosity, I made myself better acquainted with the topography of theplace.

  All that I saw then--as we were making our stealthy approach--was ablock of dark mason work, with a still darker disc in the centreindicating the entrance door; and on each side of this a large window,from which a stream of light was escaping.

  The ground in front had the look of a ruined garden--overgrown with rankgrass, and here and there some clumps of shrubbery run wild.

  Among these we made our approach--taking care to keep clear of the twobands of yellow light diverging from the windows. Both were mereapertures without glass; defended, as in all Mexican houses, by strongiron bars rising vertically from the sill.

  There was neither blind nor curtain, to obstruct the passage of thelight outward, or the view inward.

  After a few seconds spent in skulking across the lawn, we succeeded inplacing ourselves within good viewing distance of one of the windows.

  Inside we could see a table set with the paraphernalia of a feast. Itappeared a rude piece of furniture; as did also the chairs that stoodaround it. So, also, were the plates, dishes, and drinking vessels thatcovered it: though in these we could perceive a grotesque commingling ofthe cheap and costly.

  Common earthenware _ollas_, and carved bowls of calabash, stood side byside with goblets of silver, and bottles, whose tapering necks told ofclaret and champagne!

  Tall wax candles, that looked as if they had been moulded for theservice of the Church, were suspended in chandeliers of the _pitahaya_cactus, or held in cleft sticks--themselves stuck into the intersticesof the slab table!

  Only the drink had been as yet brought upon the board; though the meatscould be scented from the _cocina_; while several brown-skinned,leathern-clad, "muchachos" were moving to and fro, with a hurried_empressement_ that showed they were setting the supper.

  It was evident that the two windows were in different apartments; theone opposite us being the _sala de comida_, or dining-room.

  It was the _sala grande_, or drawing-room, I most desired to look into.

  Not to listen to the music, or become a spectator to the dancing. Bothhad ceased some time before; and in their place we could now hear only asingle voice--that of a man, who seemed to be speaking in a tonemeasured and solemn!

  It required some strategy to get into position for looking through thesecond window. But it was worth the effort.

  From the grand preparations in the dining-room, there should becorresponding company in the drawing-room? Was its quality alikeheterogeneous?

  As yet we could not tell. A ruined pile, that had once been a sort ofportico, extended between the two windows--overshadowing the doorway.It hindered us from obtaining a view of the second.

  We had been kneeling among rhododendrons--a clump of which grew near thedining-room window. There were none in front of the drawing-room; butinstead, an enormous aloe--the _maguey_ of Mexico. Once to rearward ofit, and screened by its broad blades, we should be in an excellent placefor observation.

  The question was how to get there, without being ourselves observed.The ground between the rhododendrons and the "pulque plant" was a smoothpiece of turf, without shrub or tree. On this the two bands of light--widening as they went out from the windows--became commingled.

  To have crossed from one side to the other would have been to exposeourselves under a light, clear almost as day.

  We did not so much fear being seen by those within the _sala grande_.Their preoccupation--sport, or whatever was going on--would hinder themfrom looking forth.

  But while crouching among the "rose trees" we had noticed that the greatgate was open; and in the faint light that fell straggling across the_saguan_--a little brighter in the _patio_ behind--we could see thedark-skinned domestics flitting to and fro with the supper dishes--likespectres engaged in the preparation of some infernal feast!

  Some of these standing in the _saguan_, or loitering by the outsideentrance, might observe us while crossing?

  We dared not risk it. The exposure would be too great. Should weattempt to cross there would be scarce a chance to escape detection.

  There was only one other course: to steal back down the lawn, cross overthrough the fainter light, and return along the edge of the other cliff.What a pity we had not taken this route at first!

  I was loth to lose the time, but there was no help for it. To havesaved it, by going direct, might have resulted in the loss of our lives;or, at all events, in disaster to our expedition.

  Ten minutes more, and we stood behind the _maguey_.

  Parting its spinous leaves, and passing in between them, we obtained thedesired standpoint.

  As I have said, the music had ceased, as also the conversation andlaughter. All three had been hushed for some time--having come to astop while we were skulking among the rhododendrons.

  We supposed at first, that supper had been announced to the company inthe _sala grande_, and we might soon see them in the _sala de comida_.

  Although the preparations did not appear complete, we should have stayedto await the going in of the guests--but for what we heard from theother apartment.

  The sounds of merriment, abruptly brought to an end, had been succeededby the solitary voice. It was that of a man, who appeared to speak inslow measured tones--as if addressing himself to an audience.

  We could hear him all the time we were changing place; and his haranguewas still going on, as we came into cover among the fronds of the pulqueplant.

  The first glance through these explained everything--why the music hadceased, and the laughter been restrained.

  Inside the sala a ceremony was progressing, that, under thecircumstances, might well be termed solemn. It was the ceremonial of amarriage!

  A monk, whose robe of bluish grey proclaimed him of the order of SanFrancisco, was standing near the middle of the floor. I mention himfirst, as he was the first to come under my eye.

  He held a book in his hand; and was reading from it the ritual ofmarriage--according to the Romish Church.

  My eyes did not dwell upon him for a single second. They went in searchof the bride, and bridegroom.

  A little shifting among the leaves brought me face
to face with thelatter. Imagine my astonishment on beholding Francisco Moreno!

  It was scarcely increased when I obtained a view of the bride. Apresentiment--sad, almost stifling--had prepared me for seeing DoloresVilla-Senor. It was she!

  I could not see her face. She was standing with her back towards thewindow. Besides, a white scarf, thrown loosely over her crown, anddraping down to her waist, hindered even a side view of it.

  There could be no doubt about its being Dolores. There was no mistakingthat magnificent form--even when seen _en detras_. She it was, standingat the altar!

  A wide space separated the bridegroom from the bride. I could not tellwho, or what, was between. It appeared a little odd; but I supposed itmight be the fashion of the country.

  Behind _him_ were other figures--all men--all in costumes thatproclaimed a peculiar calling. They were _brigands_. Francisco onlydiffered from the rest in being more splendidly attired. But then hewas their chief!

  I had been puzzled--a little pained--by some speeches he had let fallduring our intercourse in the City of the Angels. How gentle had beenhis reproaches, and tolerant his condemnation, of Carrasco! As a rival,not as a robber, he had shown indignation against the _ci-devant_captain of Santa Anna!

  What I now saw explained all. Don Eusebio had spoken only ofprobabilities, when he said that Moreno might be a bandit. Had he knownthe real truth regarding this aspirant to his daughter's hand, he mighthave been excused for his design to shut her up in a convent.

  The bride was willing; there could be no doubt of it. I remembered whatthe stage-driver had told me, of her tripping off so lightly among thetrees, her present behaviour confirmed it. Even in that solemn hour, Ifancied that she was gay. I could not see the face; but there was afree, _nonchalant_ carriage of the head, and a coy vibration of thescarf that covered it, very different from the staid, drooping attitudethat denotes compulsion. On the contrary, she appeared contented--trembling only with joy!

  It would be vain to attempt a description of my own feelings. For thetime, a statue set among the shrubbery could not have been moremotionless than I. I stood rigid as the fronds of the aloe around me,--my gaze steadfastly fixed upon the spectacle passing inside. I began tofancy it a dream!

  But, no! There was the bride and the bridegroom; and the monk, in dullmonotone still reciting from his book!

  And now I could hear the promise to "love, honour, and cherish," and theresponsive vow to "love, honour, and obey"--all after the formula of theCatholic faith.

  Oh! it was no dream, but a hellish, heart-rending reality!

  The woman who had won my heart--whom for six months I had been vainlyendeavouring to forget--was before my eyes, surrounded by a band ofbrigands--not their captive, but the bride of their chief--freelyconsenting to the sacrifice!

  "_Otra cosa de Mexico_!"