Read Ebook: Vagabond Life in Mexico by Ferry Gabriel

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Ebook has 778 lines and 72864 words, and 16 pages

ppearance, with a small porch before the door, supported by brick pillars. Numerous cracks furrowed the walls in every direction, clearly indicating a sad state of disrepair. Behind the house was a garden choked with weeds, surrounded by a wall thickly covered with moss, and crowned with pellitories. The porter, whom the licentiate had put in charge of the house, opened the door. "You are in your own house," said Don Tadeo to me. We entered. The interior of the house was as desolate as the exterior. The ceilings were gaping with chinks, the disjointed boards in the stairs creaked sadly under foot, and the garden was nothing more than a collection of sentern, nettles, and thistles, in the midst of which rose some sickly-looking fruit-trees. This wretched house and garden, however, were almost equal to the debt, and that was sufficient; the more in the case of such a debtor as Peralta was, with whom one could not be too exacting.

"Well," said the licentiate to me, when we were alone, "you see you have got payment of your debt. What do you think of my plan for making stubborn debtors pay?"

"I fear, Don Tadeo, that you are playing a very dangerous game for yourself; and, if you would take my advice, you would give up business immediately as redresser of wrongs, as I think the losses exceed the profits."

"You see, however, that I am fortunate in my enterprises. Never mind. But as I may prematurely receive a dagger-thrust some day or other, I would like you to keep some remembrance of me. Here is a book which was not comprised in the inventory of the house. It is an old work, and not without its value."

The time had now come when we must return to Mexico. Without waiting for Pepito, who would probably finish the day at a wine-shop, we pushed along. The heat was as insupportable as before. The flock of vultures that Pepito had pointed out to Don Tadeo had evidently increased, and a fetid odor was wafted by the wind in our direction from the little mounds above which the birds were fluttering. The licentiate drew up suddenly.

"If you are curious to read the last page of the history of which we were just talking," said he, "go over to these hillocks; but I fear your nerves are not strong enough."

"And what shall I see among these rocks?"

"A corpse; you observe that at this very moment the birds are pecking at it. One of the three ruffians whom I employed to recover your debt has paid for all the others. God is just! The man who fell under the dagger of Peralta was the perpetrator of the outrage on the Paseo of Bucareli. The romance is now complete, is it not?"

"Assuredly; and the sight of the vultures will add to the impression your story has made upon me."

"Come," said the licentiate, spurring his horse, "I see you are getting nervous. To town, then."

We parted on the Plaza Mayor in the hope of seeing one another again, but fortune decreed otherwise; and a few weeks after my installation in Peralta's house I quitted Mexico.

During my absence the gambling-house in the Callejon was closed. On my return, Tio Lucas informed me that the licentiate had returned to Spain. Since that time I have made many ineffectual attempts to procure some information about him. The only souvenir that was left me of this extraordinary man is the manuscript of Alonso Urbano, now in the National Library at Paris.

Remigio Vasquez.

"Do you fancy," said the huesped to me, "that it is my business to ask the names of those who frequent my house? I have something else to think of, I assure you; but as for the person you are inquiring after, he set out, not half an hour ago, for Cuantitlan, as his servant, who accompanied him, informed me, and, if you are a swift horseman, you may overtake him, if you are so very desirous to know his name."

"What was the color of their horses?"

"Iron-gray and peach-blossom."

We set out. The travelers we were in pursuit of could not be more than an hour in advance of us, and the unusual color of their horses would aid us in tracking them easily. I flattered myself that if we pushed on we could overtake them without difficulty in two hours, and if that were beyond our power, a couple of fresh horses would not take long to cover the six leagues between Mexico and Cuantitlan. I thus set out with the intention of returning before sunset. The difference of speed, however, between my horse and that of my servant, forced me to slacken my pace. Two hours had already rolled away without catching the slightest glimpse of the man I was in quest of, and the spire of Cuantitlan had not even come in sight. I almost feared that the inn-keeper had sent us the wrong road, when some muleteers, returning to Mexico, told me that they had met two horsemen, one mounted on an iron-gray, the other on a peach-blossom. We reached Cuantitlan in a short time, and I was directed to the hostelry where the two horsemen had stopped. I had not been long in coming hither, and was at last soon to know what I was burning to learn. I went to the inn which had been pointed out to me, and my foot had no sooner reached the ground than I began questioning the huesped with the air of one who is sure of finding what he wants.

"Are your horses tired?" said the host, when I had finished.

"No."

"Well, that's something, for the travelers only entered my house for refreshment and then left, and it will be fresh horses alone that can overtake them."

"These two travelers are surely a brace of devils," said Cecilio, sadly, "or two great criminals at least, as they seem to stop to rest nowhere."

The Hacienda of Arroyo Zarco.--The young Mexican Lady.--The young Spanish Nobleman.--Don Tomas Verdugo.

The hacienda of Arroyo Zarco is a vast and imposing building, built partly of brick and partly of large stones, situated almost at the entrance to the extensive and fertile plains of Bajio. The place, however, where this hacienda rises, is far from presenting the smiling appearance which characterizes the basin bearing its name. It stands on a flat, barren plain, where grow a few melancholy-looking stunted trees, one or two of which shade the back walls of the building: a little brook of bluish-looking water, the fountain-head of which is not far off, gives the name of Arroyo Zarco to the hacienda. A large square court, ornamented on its four sides with stone arches like the cloisters of a convent, forms a kind of vestibule to the apartments of the family. The rooms devoted to travelers are under these galleries. Stables, large enough to contain with ease a whole regiment of cavalry, make up two or three other courts. It was the only place at which I could put up within six leagues, and here I hoped to find the travelers I was in quest of, provided I had not taken the wrong road.

"We have come thirty-two leagues since yesterday," said Cecilio, taking my bridle, with a sigh, "and if your lordship persist in continuing the pursuit, perhaps it will only be prudent and advisable if I return to Mexico to dissipate the uneasiness that will probably arise there on your account."

"The duty of a good servant is to accompany his master every where," was my reply; and, going up to the stable-boy, I began to put some questions to him regarding the travelers who had arrived before us. From him I learned that about forty travelers had stopped at the hacienda in the afternoon, and, for want of better information, I was obliged to content myself by a personal inspection of the stables. I ought to have gone there at first without making any inquiries; and, as there was still some daylight, I directed my steps to the courts. A great number of horses were munching their provender in their stalls, and, from the joyful eagerness with which they ate, I could see that they had come a long distance; but I could hardly contain myself for joy when I distinguished side by side, like two faithful companions, the iron-gray and the peach-blossom. This was but the beginning of success; for, to complete the discovery, I must examine nearly sixty travelers, for there was almost that number of horses in the stables. This, to speak the truth, was almost impracticable--dangerous, perhaps, in one respect, and ridiculous in another.

Night came on, and the young lady had retired to one of the chambers of the hacienda when another traveler entered the court-yard. The new-comer was a young man, evidently about five or six-and-twenty, tall and well made. Though poorly clad, his dress was unstudiously elegant, and a fine black mustache heightened the dignity of his appearance. The predominant expression of his countenance was at once haughty and sad, but his face was remarkable at times for a singularly winning sweetness. A little mandolin hung round his neck, and at the pommel of his saddle dangled an old rusty rapier. The lean and somewhat scraggy horse he rode was followed by another ready saddled and bridled. I could not help feeling a touch of pity for this poor young man with the melancholy face. The famine-stricken appearance of both horses and master, showed but too well the hardships which they had endured in common--long journeys executed upon little or no food, and entire days passed probably without sustenance of any kind. Like the other travelers, the cavalier called the huesped; but, instead of addressing him in a loud voice, he stooped from his saddle and whispered in his ear. The huesped, in reply, shook his head; a cloud passed over the face of the unknown, he colored slightly, looked sorrowfully at the unharnessed carriage, twitched his bridle, and left the hacienda.

It was now time for me, however, to look after my own business. The joy of Cecilio, when he found that the two horses of our travelers were in the stables of the inn, was changed into despair when I communicated to him my orders. As I could not interrogate sixty travelers, I ordered him to saddle our horses at midnight, and station himself along with me in the court-yard near the gate. In this way not a single traveler could leave the place at any hour of the night without my knowledge. This point arranged, I left Cecilio plunged in melancholy reflection at the prospect of a night to be passed in the open air, and hastened to the kitchen, which, according to the custom of the country, served also for a dining-room.

I was very anxious to elicit some more information, but the wary hostess kept herself very reserved, and I quitted the kitchen very much disappointed to learn that I had still a forty leagues' ride before meeting my mysterious visitor, but delighted to find that I knew his name, and had a certain aim to pursue. After countermanding my order to Cecilio, as it was not late--and sleep is a long time in visiting a stony couch, especially when one is very much fatigued--I went and sat down at the outer gate of the hacienda, a few paces from the high road.

"Who goes there?" he exclaimed in Spanish, and in a pure Castilian accent.

"A friend!" I cried; "but put up your rapier; I am alone and unarmed."

The moon lighted up the surrounding objects so clearly that the Spaniard was convinced that I had spoken the truth, and he returned it to its sheath.

"Pardon my indiscretion, Se?or Cavalier," I said, advancing into the illuminated circle; "I have been drawn to you, I must say, only by a motive of curiosity. If I am not deceived, you are, like myself, a foreigner, and, as such, almost a friend."

In spite of my politeness, the stranger's features still kept an air of haughty defiance. He seated himself, however, and invited me, with a wave of his hand, to do the same. I did so without ceremony.

"I am a Spaniard, it is true," answered my new companion, haughtily; "but, throughout the whole of America, is not a Spaniard at home? It is now my turn to ask pardon of you for deeming you a spy sent by--"

The Spaniard stopped all at once.

"Did you compose those verses yourself," I asked, "which I have so indiscreetly interrupted, and whose originality has struck me so much?"

"No; I only adapted them to an air of my own composition for an affair which it would be too tedious to relate to you."

There was evidently an attempt at concealment in this reply, which whetted my curiosity. I resolved to make a confidant of the young Spaniard by telling him the object of my journey, and the many checks I had experienced since my departure from Mexico.

"Our positions are not dissimilar," said the Spaniard, when I had done. "Like you, I am pursuing a nameless object; but thank God that you have been saved from the dangers that I have undergone."

"Tell me about them," I said. "I like a story told in the open air--at night above all, and in the light of a fire like this."

"Be it so," said the Spaniard. "I shall begin by telling you that I am a Biscayan and a nobleman; not by election, like most of my Compatriots, but descended from a long line of ancestors, who recognize Lope Chouria as the chief of their ancient clan. My name is Don Jaime de Villalobos. I bear another name here for common use. My mother has the first rank in my affection, then my father, and lastly my country. You now know me, Se?or Cavalier. I am now about to tell you of the affair in which I am at present engaged."

The slight air of superciliousness with which he began his story was not displeasing to me; it was like a continuation of the Romancero of which the young nobleman had been singing a verse a short time before. He continued with more simplicity.

"Unfortunately, I was born poor, though of noble blood. More than once during my infancy have I been awakened from sleep by the rude ice-wind which whistled without obstruction through the ruined manor-house in which my mother and I dwelt. As a compensation, God gave me a good appetite, which made me forget the cold. I shot up apace; my noble birth interdicted me from all manual labor and servile employment; and to leave my mother, who was now growing old, and take service in the army, was a step which was not in accordance with my inclination. However, I could not long remain a stranger to the civil war which was then raging in the Basque Provinces. Don Carlos, you are perhaps aware, often forgot to pay his officers and soldiers, and all that I gained in his service was the honor of being a creditor of his noble highness. Returning to my maternal abode, I was grieved to find it more dilapidated than ever, and to feel still more the anguish which rent my mother's heart, for I saw her sinking day after day under the double burden of old age and poverty. One evening a peddler came and demanded hospitality of us, and as he only asked for shelter, we granted it. His wandering life had enabled him to pick up all sorts of news, and I learned from him that one of our neighbors had made a wealthy marriage in New Spain.

"'What a capital thing it would be,' said he, 'if a young nobleman like you could be so lucky in that land of gold and silver, where the ambition of all the women is summed up in the couplet,

"'Canrisas de Brita?a, Y maridos de Espa?a.'

"In my present position a rich marriage was the only resource left me, and I resolved to go to the New World and seek my fortune. I communicated my hopes to my mother. The payment of a debt gave me the means of procuring a passage in a ship from Bilboa; and full of hopes of being able to bring back a fortune to my mother, which was my only ambition, I set sail. I arrived at Vera Cruz a year ago, and visited the churches assiduously, the only place where the fair inhabitants delight to show themselves, but not one deigned to give me the slightest countenance. At night in the deserted streets I watched long, but to no purpose, for none appeared. I knew well that if I did not announce my presence under a window, I ran a risk of spending my nights as fruitlessly as my days. I had then recourse to music, and purchased a mandolin. Unluckily, though a passable musician, I was not poet enough to compose a good serenading song, and was forced to tack on to an old Romancero a piece of a wretched ballad that I remembered--the miserable bit of doggerel which had incited me to quit the old manor-house. I was engaged in singing that when you interrupted me."

The Spaniard here began to smoke with the air of a man who is resolved to do his duty conscientiously.

"And you are not much older than a boy," said I, much surprised at the abrupt conclusion of Don Jaime's story.

"An old maid, a sort of duenna, who had worn linen of Brittany for many years, had no objection to me on that score. You understand my object in coming here was to get a young, rich, and beautiful wife. Had the duenna been rich, for my mother's sake I would have married her, but she was neither rich nor young, and had never been pretty."

"'Tis a thousand pities," said I; "you are half a century behind, Se?or Don Jaime. Fifty years ago every chance would have been in favor of a cavalier of your figure and appearance. Now I am afraid that time is past."

An almost imperceptible smile broke upon the lips of the Biscayan, but I could not guess whether it was caused by the compliment I had paid him, or pity for the incredulity I had manifested.

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