"A word with you, Colonel, in the name of G.o.d!" cried one of them, as soon as they were near enough to be heard. "For Heaven's sake do not ride off till we have spoken to you. My companion and I have had the worst of luck in trying to find you."

The man who spoke, and who had exhausted his last breath in the words, was no other than the veritable Juan el Zapote, while his companion was the honest Gaspar.

"Who are these men?" indignantly inquired Don Rafael. "Ah! it is you, my brave fellows?" continued he, softening down, as he recognised the two adventurers whom he had met in the forest, and whose advice had proved so advantageous to him. "What do you want with me? You see I am engaged at present, and have no time to attend to you?"

"True!" replied Juan el Zapote. "We see your honour is occupied; and that we have arrived at an inconvenient time! Ah! it is the Senor Arroyo with whom you are engaged! But your honour must know that we have a message for you, and have been running after you for twenty-four hours, without being able to deliver it. It is one of life and death."

"Mercy! mercy!" shrieked Arroyo, in a tone of piteous appeal.

"Hold your tongue, you stupid!" cried Juan el Zapote, reproachfully addressing his former chief. "Don't you see that the Colonel has business with us? You are hindering him from attending to it."

"A message of life and death!" repeated Don Rafael, his heart suddenly bounding with a triumphant hope. "From whom do you come?"

"Will your honour direct your people to step aside?" whispered Zapote.

"It is a confidential mission with which we are charged--a love message," added he, in a still lower tone.

By a commanding gesture of the Colonel--for the communications of Zapote had deprived him of the power of speech--the troopers moved off to one side, and he was left alone with the messengers--to whom he now bent downwards from his saddle, in order that their words might not be heard.

What they said to him need not be repeated: enough to know that when their message was finally delivered it appeared to produce a magical effect upon the Colonel, who was heard to give utterance to a stifled cry of joy.

Holding by one hand the withers of his horse--which he appeared to need as a support to hinder him from falling out of his saddle--with the other he was observed to conceal something in the breast of his coat, apparently a packet which the messengers had handed to him. They, in their turn, were seen to bound joyfully over the ground at some word which Don Rafael had spoken to them, and which seemed to have produced on Zapote an effect resembling the dance of Saint Vitus.

In another moment the Colonel drew his dagger from its sheath, and called out in a voice loud enough to be heard by all:--"G.o.d does not will that this man should die. He has sent these men as the saviours of his life. I acknowledge the hand of G.o.d!"

And forgetting that he held in his power his most mortal foe, the murderer of his father--forgetting his oath, no more to be remembered amidst the delicious emotions that filled his heart--remembering only the promise of mercy he had made to Gertrudis, herself--he leant back over the croup of his saddle, and cut the lazo by which the brigand was attached to the tail of his horse.

Disdaining to listen to the outpouring of thanks which the craven wretch now lavished upon him, he turned once more towards the messengers.

"Where is she who sent you?" inquired he in a low voice.

"There!" answered Zapote, pointing to a group of hors.e.m.e.n who at that moment were seen advancing along the sh.o.r.e as the escort to a _litera_ which appeared in their midst.

Roncador, freed from the human body, which attached to his tail had so frightened him, no longer refused to obey the spur; and in another moment he was bounding in the direction where the curtains of the _litera_ of Gertrudis were seen undulating under the last rays of the waning moon.

CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE.

A BRACE OF CRAFTY COURIERS.

It is necessary to explain the cause of Don Mariano's advance towards the spot.

From the place in which he and his party had taken their stand, they could witness most part of the pursuit, as well as the events that followed it; but so confusedly, that it was impossible to tell by the eye who were the victors, and who the vanquished. The ear gave them a better clue as to how the strife was turning; for the chase had not been carried on in silence.

So long as the sh.o.r.es of the lake at that especial point were cleared of people, it mattered little to Costal and Clara who should have the advantage. With Don Mariano the case was difficult.

Convinced by what he had seen, that the leader of the sanguinary pursuit could be no other than the Colonel Tres-Villas, whose life was now almost as precious to him as that of his own daughter--since hers depended upon it--he stood for a while absorbed in the most painful uncertainty. From the commencement of the drama he had, in fact, preserved a solemn silence--feeling that words could in no way relieve the anxiety of Gertrudis.

A vivid sentiment of curiosity had equally kept in silence Don Cornelio and his two followers, who at some paces from the _litera_ stood listening.

Don Mariano was still ignorant of the fact that the hacienda of San Carlos had been captured and pillaged by the band of Arroyo. Had he known of this, and other events of a yet more horrid nature, his soul might have been harrowed by a far more agonising emotion than that of mere uncertainty; and perhaps he might have become an actor instead of spectator in the strife that was accruing.

As for Dona Gertrudis, she had easily distinguished that strange sound that issued from the nostrils of the well-known steed; and with her ear eagerly bent, she listened with mortal anguish to every breath that was borne back from the scene of the struggle.

Costal, who was impatient to return with Clara towards the spot where he had been so near capturing the white-robed Matlacuezc, was the first to break the prolonged silence.

"Whatever may be the result," said he, in hopes of inducing Don Mariano and his party to move away from the place, "the path is now clear for you, Senor Don Mariano. If it is to the hacienda of Las Palmas you are going, you will find the road both open and safe."

"We are not going to Las Palmas," answered Don Mariano, with an air of abstraction, at the same time advancing a few paces in order to have a better view of what was pa.s.sing.

"If I were in your place," persisted Costal, in a significant tone, "I should go there. It is the safest route you can take, and let me a.s.sure you the moments are precious--_Carrambo_!" continued he, in an angry tone, and suddenly facing round, as the crackling of branches announced that some one was pa.s.sing near through the thicket. "By all the serpents in the hair of Tlaloc, there are some more people in the woods.

In the name of--"

The invoked deity was not mentioned, as just at that moment voices were heard where the bushes were in motion, and Costal interrupted his speech to listen. The words were--

"This way, _compadre_--this way! I hear over yonder the voice of the man we are in search of. Listen! that's the Colonel's voice to a certainty. Quick, by all the devils! Let us run at full speed, or we shall miss him, again."

The voice of this speaker was not known to any of those who had heard it, and he who was addressed as "_compadre_" appeared not to have made any reply. But the sound of their footsteps, and the swish of the recoiling branches, each moment became more indistinct, till at length the noises were lost in the distance.

It is scarcely necessary to say that the two men, who had thus pa.s.sed so near, were the messengers so often disappointed, Gaspar and Juan el Zapote. As already known, they had been to the hacienda San Carlos, where they had learnt the direction taken by Don Rafael on leaving it.

They had followed his tracks, which to Juan el Zapote, a skilled _rastreador_, was easy enough--especially in such a moonlight. They had even recognised Don Mariano and his party, on coming near the spot where the haciendado had halted; and for a moment Gaspar hesitated about going up to the group and reporting himself to his master, as he ought to have done.

From the performance of his duty he was dissuaded by his astute a.s.sociate, who represented to him, that, in case of his reporting himself, Don Mariano might countermand the message he had sent to the Colonel, now that the latter was known to be on the ground. He might prefer delivering the precious talisman in _propria persona_, and then where would be the bounty they had long expected, and for which they had more than once risked their necks?

These arguments prevailed even with the honest Gaspar; and to such an extent, that from this very motive he had declined to answer the speeches of Zapote, lest his voice might be recognised by Don Mariano, or some of his fellow-servants! Cautiously did the two make a detour through the trees, and so rapidly, that no one was likely to be able to intercept them, before they could reach the place to which the voice of the Colonel was guiding them.

As soon as the men had pa.s.sed out of hearing, Costal and Clara, who saw that Don Mariano showed no sign of following their advice, exchanged glances of vexatious disappointment. The haciendado still kept his ground; and with his ear catching every sound, was vainly endeavouring to obtain a solution to the painful uncertainty that surrounded him.

The moon, about to sink behind the summit of the enchanted hill, cast oblique rays along the level sh.o.r.e of the lake. There he could make out a confused group of men and horses, some of the former dismounted and flinging long shadows over the plain. What was pa.s.sing in the middle of this group? Some terrible scene, no doubt, was there being enacted--to judge from the hurried movements of the men, and the angry intonation of their voices.

At that moment a frightful cry rose upon the air, and, borne upon the still breeze, was distinctly heard by Don Mariano and the people around him. It was the agonised cry of a wretch begging for mercy. The voice even could be distinguished by Don Mariano, by Costal, by Clara, and the domestics. All knew it was the voice of Arroyo.

The cry was significant. Beyond doubt Don Rafael was the victor, and was now executing upon the murderer of his father the act of merciless justice he had promised before the walls of Las Palmas.

Don Mariano hesitated no longer; but, giving the order to his attendants, advanced towards the scene of vengeance.

CHAPTER EIGHTY.

MATLACUEZC A MORTAL.

The sh.o.r.es of the Lake Ostuta, hitherto so solitary and silent, appeared upon this night to have become a general rendezvous for all the world.

The _litera_ of Gertrudis had scarce moved from the spot which Don Mariano had chosen for his bivouac, when another _litera_ was seen entering the glade, and moving onward through it. This, however, was borne by men, and preceded by some half-dozen Indian peons with blazing torches of _ocote_ wood carried in their hands.

On reaching the sh.o.r.e of the lake, the second _litera_ with its escort made halt, while the Indians bearing the torches commenced searching for something among the reeds.

Costal and Clara, instead of accompanying the party of Don Mariano, had remained upon the ground, in hopes that they would now be left free to continue their pagan incantations, and once more behold the Syren of the dishevelled hair. Don Cornelio also lingered behind, not caring just then to encounter the victorious royalists.