A sudden thought interrupted the speech of Don Cornelio--a terrible thought, for it just now occurred to him that his despatches, his commission as captain, his letters of credence--in short, all the papers by which he could prove his ident.i.ty--were in the pockets of the stolen cloak!
"Ho!" exclaimed the Colonel of Colonels, in a joyful tone, "you call yourself Lantejas, do you? I am delighted to hear it, and so will our captain be. It is the luckiest circ.u.mstance in the world for us, and for you, too, as you shall presently be convinced. Look here!"
The speaker raised the corner of a _serape_ that was spread upon one of the tables standing near, and pointed to some objects lying underneath.
Don Cornelio saw they were human heads.
There were three of them.
"Now, my good friend," continued the Colonel of Colonels, "there you see the head of our old comrade, Lieutenant Lantejas, which we have brought away from where it was nailed over the gate of the hacienda Del Valle.
Conceive, then, what a lucky thing for us! What a splendid _revanche_ we shall have when, in place of the head of the insurgent Lantejas, we shall nail up that of Lantejas the royalist spy!"
"But it is a mistake," cried Don Cornelio, rubbing the cold sweat from his forehead. "I am not a royalist nor a spy neither. I have the honour to serve the cause of the Independence--"
"Bah! everybody says the same. Besides, without any proofs--"
"But I have proofs. They are in the pocket of my cloak, of which I have been robbed."
"Who took your cloak?" inquired the Colonel of Colonels.
"Gas.p.a.cho," replied Don Cornelio, who had incidentally learnt the name of the brigand who had despoiled him.
"Ah! that is a terrible misfortune. Gas.p.a.cho has just received orders to go in all haste to Las Cruces. He is off by this time, and will not likely be back in less than ten days. You, by that time will have lost your head, and I my cloak and Vicuna hat. Both of them, I know, would have fitted me, since you and I are both of a size. What a d.a.m.nable misfortune for both of us!"
A fearful cry interrupted the dialogue between Don Cornelio and the Colonel of Colonels. The cry came from the wretched sufferer, who fainted as soon as uttering it.
Almost at the same instant the alcohol shot up its last flickering flame--as the spirit itself was consumed; and in the reddish light of the torches Don Cornelio could perceive the men flitting about like shadows, or rather like demons a.s.sisting in the horrible drama that was being enacted.
CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT.
THE COMMISSION EXECUTED.
While the Captain Lantejas stood in the midst of an atmosphere that nearly stifled his breathing, he saw one of these shadowy forms step out from among the rest and advance towards him. As the man came nearer, he recognised the ferocious captain of the bandits, who, licking his blood-stained lips like a jaguar after leaving its prey, cried out in a hoa.r.s.e voice, "Bring me that spy! I can examine him while the coyote is coming to himself."
"Here he is," replied Bocardo, seizing Don Cornelio by the shoulder, and pushing him forward into the presence of his a.s.sociate.
"My good friend," muttered Bocardo, addressing himself to Don Cornelio, "it's your turn now. Of course the lash will make you confess that you are a spy, and of course your head will be taken off immediately after.
I would, therefore, advise you not to waste time about it but acknowledge your guilt at once."
While Bocardo was giving this fearful counsel, his a.s.sociate stood regarding Don Cornelio with eyes that expressed a villainous pleasure, at the idea of having another victim to satisfy his bloodthirsty instincts.
"Confess quickly!" he cried, "and let that end it. I am tired, and shan't be kept waiting."
"Senor Arroyo!" replied Lantejas, "I am a captain in the insurgent army, and am sent by General Morelos to tell you--"
Don Cornelio paused. He was hesitating as to whether he dare proclaim his real errand.
"Your proofs?" demanded Arroyo.
"My papers have been taken from me," said Lantejas.
"A fig for your papers! Hola! wife!" continued Arroyo, turning to the hag who still stood by the fainting victim, "here's a little work for you, as I am somewhat fatigued. I charge you with making this spy confess who sent him here, and what design he had in coming. Make him speak out whatever way you please."
"By and by," answered the virago, "but not yet. This coyote has come round again, and better still, has come to his right senses at last: he is about to confess."
"Bring him here, then!" commanded Arroyo.
Several men hastened to execute the order, and, detaching the victim from the place where he had been bound, half dragged, half carried him across the floor. Don Cornelio saw that the unfortunate individual was a young man--of less than thirty, of n.o.ble aspect, though his features expressed at the moment the terrible agony he was enduring.
"Now, _Gachupino_!" exclaimed the woman, "where is your money hid?"
"Where is your wife?" cried Arroyo. On hearing this question so pointedly put, the hideous companion of Arroyo directed upon her husband a glance of concentrated rage and jealousy.
"I want the woman," muttered Arroyo, "in order that I may draw a good ransom out of her father."
The young Spaniard, his spirit tortured to a certain degree of feebleness, in a voice scarce audible, indicated to his persecutors where lay the secret chamber--the door of which, cunningly set in the wall, had escaped even the keen eyes of the robbers.
Both Bocardo and Arroyo immediately repaired to the spot. A keg of dollars, with a large quant.i.ty of plate, was found in the chamber, but the Senora Marianita had disappeared.
On hearing this news, a tremor of joy pa.s.sed through the lacerated frame of the young Spaniard. Little cared he for his treasure, so long as his beloved wife had escaped from the outrages of the brigands. His emotion caused him to faint anew; and he lay once more senseless at the feet of his tormentors.
Don Cornelio now remembered the white phantom he had observed gliding among the trees, and he doubted not that what he had seen was she of whom they were in search.
Arroyo returned to examine his prisoner, but by this time the whole nature of Don Cornelio appeared to have become suddenly transformed.
The perfumes of the alcohol, mixed with that of the resin torches, had mounted to his head; and as he had never in his life even tasted strong liquors, the effect was that of a partial but instant intoxication. He appeared to have become animated with a portion of that courage, with which in the field of battle the flaming eyes of Galeana had more than once inspired him--while combating under the aegis of the marshal's death-dealing lance.
"Senor Arroyo!" cried he in a voice whose thundering tones astonished even himself, "and you who call yourself the Colonel of Colonels! I command you both to respect the envoy of his Excellency the General Morelos--myself--who am charged to tell you, that if you continue, by your sanguinary cruelties, to disgrace the holy cause for which we fight--not as brigands but as Christians--you will both be _drawn and quartered_!"
At this unexpected and insulting menace the eyes of Arroyo sparkled with fury. Upon Bocardo the effect was somewhat different. He trembled and turned pale at the name of Morelos.
Lantejas, though somewhat alarmed at his own boldness, nevertheless continued in the same strain.
"Bring here the negro and Indian!" demanded he, "prisoners like myself-- and see if both do not know me as Captain Don Cornelio Lantejas. If they do not I consent--"
At this point Arroyo interrupted the speaker, springing forward and crying out in a husky voice--
"Woe be to you if you are lying! I will pluck the tongue out of your head, and scourge with it the cheeks of an impostor."
Lantejas, now elevated in spite of himself to a point of haughty grandeur, replied to this menace only with a superb smile.
Clara being sent for, the moment after appeared within the room.
"Who is this man, dog of a negro?" interrogated the fierce brigand.
This time too punctual in executing the orders of his captain, the black displayed his ivory teeth in a smile of significant intelligence. "Don Lucas Alacuesta, of course!" he replied.
A cry of gratification issued from the lips of the bandit.