The Trappers of Arkansas: or, The Loyal Heart

"Oh!" said the old lady, clasping her hands with fervour, and raising her eyes toward heaven, "the finger of the Almighty is in all this!"

"Yes," Eusebio replied, with profound conviction; "it is He who has done it!"

"Tell me, my darling; during the two months of your journey, did your uncle, the general, never give you a glimpse, by his words, his actions, or his proceedings, of the object of this expedition?"

"Never!" Doña Luz replied.

"That is strange!" the old lady murmured.

"Strange, indeed," Eusebio repeated, who still persisted in endeavouring to draw smoke from his extinguished cigarette.

"But tell me," the mother of Loyal Heart resumed, "when you arrived in the prairies, how did your uncle employ his time? Pardon me, my child, these questions which must surprise you, but which are not at all dictated by curiosity; hereafter you will understand me, and you will then acknowledge that the lively interest I take in you alone leads me to interrogate you."

"I do not at all doubt it, señora," Doña Luz replied, with a charming smile; "therefore I have no difficulty in replying to you. My uncle, after our arrival in the prairies, became dull and preoccupied; he sought for the society of men accustomed to the life of the desert, and when he met with one, he would converse with him and interrogate him for hours together."

"And about what did he interrogate him, my child? Do you recollect?"

"Good heavens! señora, I must confess to my shame," the young girl replied, blushing slightly, "that I did not give great attention to this conversation, which I thought at least could interest me but little. I, a poor child, whose life up to that period had glided away sadly and monotonously, and who had seen nothing of the world but through the gratings of my convent, admired the magnificent nature which had, as if by enchantment, risen before me; I had only eyes enough to contemplate these wonders; and I adored the Creator whose infinite power had been revealed to me thus suddenly."

"That is true, dear child; pardon me these questions, which fatigue you, and whose object you cannot perceive," said the good lady, imprinting a kiss upon her brow; "if you wish it, we will speak of something else."

"As you please, señora," the young girl answered, returning her kiss. "I am most happy to talk with you, and whatever subject you choose, I am sure I shall always take great interest in it."

"But we are talking idly, and forgetting my poor son, who has been absent since morning, and who, according to what he told me, ought to have returned by this time."

"Oh! I hope nothing can have happened to him," cried Doña Luz.

"You take great interest in him, then?" the old lady remarked, with a smile.

"Ah! señora," she replied, with emotion, whilst a vivid blush rose to her cheeks, "can I do otherwise, after the services he has rendered us, and will continue to render us, I am sure?"

"My son has promised to deliver your uncle; be assured that he will fulfil his promise."

"Oh! I do not at all doubt it, señora. What a noble, grand character!" she cried with warmth; "how justly is he named Loyal Heart!"

The old lady and Eusebio looked at her and smiled; they were delighted with the enthusiasm of the young girl.

Doña Luz perceived the attention with which they were looking at her. She stopped short in confusion, hung down her head, and blushed more than ever.

"Oh!" said the old lady, taking her hand, "you may go on, my child; I am pleased to hear you speak thus of my son. Yes," she added, in a melancholy tone, and as if talking to herself, "yes; his is a grand and noble character. Like all exalted natures, he is misunderstood: but patience! God is trying him, and the day will come when justice will be rendered him in the face of all men."

"Can he, then, be unhappy?" the young girl ventured to ask, timidly.

"I do not say he is, my child," the good mother answered, with a stifled sigh. "In this world who can flatter himself with being happy? Everyone has his troubles, which he must bear; the Almighty measures the burden according to the strength of every man."

A movement was heard in the grotto; several men entered.

"Here is your son, señora," said Black Elk.

"Thank you, my friend," she replied.

"Oh! I am so glad!" said Doña Luz, springing up joyfully.

But ashamed of this inconsiderate movement, the girl sank back, confused and blushing, into her seat again.

It was, in fact Loyal Heart, but he was not alone. Belhumeur and Eagle Head accompanied him, as did several other trappers.

As soon as he was in the grotto, the young man directed his steps hastily towards his mother's retreat; he kissed her, and then turning towards Doña Luz, he bowed to her with a degree of embarrassment that was not natural to him, and which the old lady could not but remark.

The young lady returned him a salutation not less confused than his own.

"Well," he said, with a cheerful smile, "you must have been very tired of waiting for me, my noble prisoners. Time must travel slowly in this horrible grotto. Pardon me for having confined you to such a hideous dwelling, Doña Luz – you are made to inhabit splendid palaces. Alas! this is the most magnificent of my habitations."

"With the mother of him who has saved my life, señor," the girl replied, nobly, "I think myself lodged like a queen, whatever be the place I inhabit."

"You are a thousand times too good, señora," the hunter stammered; "you really make me confused."

"Well, my son," the old lady interrupted, with the evident intention of giving another turn to the conversation, which began to be embarrassing for the two young people, "what have you done today? Have you any good news to give us? Doña Luz is very uneasy about her uncle; she longs to see him again."

"I can quite understand the señora's anxiety," the hunter replied, "which I hope soon to be able to put an end to. We have not done much today; we have found it impossible to get upon the track of the bandits. It is enough to drive a man wild with vexation. Fortunately, as we returned, at a few paces from the grotto, we met with the doctor, who, according to his praiseworthy custom, was seeking herbs in the clefts of the rocks, and he told us that he has seen a man of suspicious appearance prowling about the neighbourhood. We immediately went upon the hunt, and were not long in discovering an individual whom we took prisoner, and have brought hither with us."

"You see, señor," said Doña Luz, with a playful air, "that it is sometimes of use to be seeking simples. Our dear doctor has, according to all appearance, rendered you a great service."

"Without his will being concerned in the matter," said Loyal Heart, laughing.

"I do not say the contrary," the young girl rejoined, banteringly, "but it exists none the less; it is to the herbs you owe it."

"Seeking for herbs may have a good purpose, I agree; but everything in its proper time; without unjustly reproaching him, the doctor has not always known when to choose it."

Notwithstanding the seriousness of the facts to which these words referred, the hearers could not repress a smile at the expense of the unlucky savant.

"Come! come!" said Doña Luz, "I will not have my poor doctor attacked; he has been sufficiently punished for his forgetfulness by the grief to which he has been a prey since that inauspicious day."

"You are right, señora, and I will say no more about it. Now I must beg your permission to leave you; my companions are literally dying of hunger, and the brave fellows wait for me to take their repast."

"But," Eusebio asked, "the man you have taken – what do you mean to do with him?"

"I do not know yet; as soon as our meal is over, I mean to interrogate him; his replies will most likely dictate my conduct with regard to him."

The cauldrons were taken off the fire, the quarters of venison were cut into slices, and the trappers and Indians sat down fraternally near each other, and ate their repast with a good appetite.

The ladies were served apart in their retreat by Nô Eusebio, who performed the delicate functions of house steward with a care and a seriousness worthy of a more suitable scene.

The man who had been arrested near the grotto had been placed under the guard of two stout trappers, armed to the teeth, who never took their eyes off him; but he seemed to entertain no wish to escape; on the contrary, he did honour vigorously to the food that was placed before him.

As soon as the meal was over, the chiefs drew together apart, and conversed for a few minutes among themselves in a low voice. Then, upon the order of Loyal Heart, the prisoner was brought forward, and they prepared to interrogate him.

This man, at whom they had scarcely looked, was recognized the moment he was face to face with the chiefs, who could not repress an expression of surprise.

"Captain Waktehno!" said Loyal Heart, in perfect astonishment.

"Himself, gentlemen!" the pirate replied, with haughty irony; "what have you to ask of him? He is here ready to answer you."

CHAPTER IX.

DIPLOMACY

It was an unheard-of piece of audacity in the captain, after what had taken place, to come thus and deliver himself up, without the slightest resistance, into the hands of men who would not hesitate to inflict upon him a severe vengeance.

The hunters were consequently astonished at the proceeding of the pirate, and began to suspect a snare; their surprise increased in proportion as they reflected upon his apparent madness.

They perfectly understood that if they had taken him, it was because he was willing that it should be so; that he had probably some powerful motive for acting thus, particularly after all the pains he had taken to conceal his track from all eyes, and find a retreat so impenetrable that the Indians themselves, those cunning bloodhounds whom nothing generally could throw off the scent, had given up searching for him.

What did he want amidst his most implacable enemies? What reason sufficiently strong had been able to induce him to commit the imprudence of delivering himself up?

This is what the trappers asked each other, whilst looking at him with that curiosity and that interest which, in spite of ourselves, we are forced to accord to the intrepid man who accomplishes a bold action, whatever otherwise may be his moral character.

"Sir," said Loyal Heart, after the pause of a few minutes, "as you have thought proper to place yourself in our hands, you certainly will not refuse to reply to the questions we may think proper to put to you?"

A smile of an undefinable expression passed over the thin, pale lips of the pirate.

"Not only," he replied, in a calm, clear voice, "will I not refuse to reply to you, gentlemen, but still further, if you will permit, I will forestall your questions by telling you myself spontaneously all that has passed, which will enlighten you, I am sure, with regard to the facts which have appeared obscure, and which you have in vain endeavoured to make out."

A murmur of stupefaction pervaded the ranks of the trappers, who had drawn near by degrees, and listened attentively.

The scene assumed strange proportions, and promised to become extremely interesting.

Loyal Heart reflected for a moment, and then addressed the pirate.

"Do so, sir," he said; "we listen to you."

The Captain bowed, and, with a jeering tone, commenced his recital; when he arrived at the taking of the camp, he continued thus: —

"It was cleverly played, was it not, gentlemen? Certes, I can look for nothing but compliments from you who are past masters in such matters; but there is one thing of which you are ignorant, and which I will tell you. The capture of the Mexican general's wealth was but of secondary importance to me, I had another aim, and that aim I will make you acquainted with – I wished to obtain possession of Doña Luz. From Mexico I followed the caravan, step by step; I had corrupted the principal guide, the Babbler, an old friend of mine; abandoning to my companions the gold and jewels, I desired nothing but the young girl."

"Well, but it seems you missed your aim," Belhumeur interrupted him, with a sardonic smile.

"Do you think so?" the other replied, with imperturbable assurance. "Well, you appear to be in the right; I have, for this time, missed my aim, but all is not yet said, and I may not always miss."

"You speak here, amidst a hundred and fifty of the best rifles of the prairies about this odious project, with as much confidence as if you were in safety, surrounded by your own bandits, and concealed in the depths of one of your most secret dens, captain. This is either an act of great imprudence or a still more rare piece of insolence," Loyal Heart said, sternly.

"Bah! the peril is not so great for me as you would make me believe; you know I am not a man easily intimidated, therefore a truce to threats, if you please, and let us reason like serious men."

"We hunters, trappers, and Indian warriors, assembled in this grotto, have the right, acting in the name of our common safety, to apply to you the laws of the frontiers, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, as attainted and convicted, even by your own confession, of robbery, murder, and an attempt at abduction. This law we mean to apply to you immediately. What have you to say in your defence?"

"Everything in its turn, Loyal Heart; we will talk about that presently; but, in the first place, let us terminate, if you please, what I had to say to you. Be satisfied, it is but the delay of a few minutes; I will myself revert to that question which you seem to have so much at heart, as you instal yourself, by your own private authority, judge in the desert."

"That law is as ancient as the world, it emanates from God himself; it is the duty of all honest people to run down a wild beast when they meet with one in their passage."

"The comparison is not flattering," the pirate replied, perfectly unmoved, "but I am not at all susceptible; I do not easily take offence. Will you, once for all, allow me to speak?"

"Speak, then, and let us have an end of this."

"That is exactly what I ask; listen to me, then. In this world, every one comprehends life after his own fashion, some widely, others in a narrow way; for me, my dream is to retire, a few years hence, to the depths of one of our beautiful Mexican provinces with a moderate competency – you see I am not ambitious. A few months back, at the termination of several tolerably lucrative affairs which I had happily effected in the prairies by means of courage and address, I found myself master of a pretty round sum, which, according to my custom, I resolved to invest, in order to procure me hereafter the moderate competency of which I was speaking to you. I went to Mexico to place my money in the hands of an honourable French banker established in that city, who answered all my expectations, and whom I recommend to you, if you have occasion for such a person."

"What is all this verbiage to us?" Loyal Heart interrupted, hotly. "You are laughing at us, captain."

"Not the least in the world. I will go on. In Mexico, chance afforded me an opportunity of rendering Doña Luz a rather important service."

"You?" said Loyal Heart, angrily.

"Why not?" the other replied. "The affair is very simple. I delivered her from the hands of four bandits, who were plundering her. I saw her, and became madly in love with her."

"Man! man!" said the hunter, colouring with vexation; "this exceeds all bounds. Doña Luz is a young lady who ought never to be spoken of without the greatest respect. I will not allow her to be insulted in my presence."

"We are exactly of the same opinion," the other continued, jeeringly; "but it is none the less true that I fell in love with her. I skilfully obtained information concerning her; I learnt who she was, the journey she was about to take; I played successfully, as you see. Then my plan was laid, which, as you just now said, has completely failed; but which, nevertheless, I have not yet given up."

"We will endeavour to settle that once for all."

"And you will do well, if you can."

"Now, I suppose, you have finished?"

"Not yet, if you please; but at this point what remains for me to say renders the presence of Doña Luz indispensable. Upon her alone depends the success of my mission to you."

"I do not understand you."

"It would be useless for you to understand me at this moment; but rest satisfied, Loyal Heart, you shall soon have the key to the enigma."

During the whole of this long discussion, the pirate had not for a moment lost that self-possession, that sneering smile, that bantering tone, and that freedom of manner, that confounded the hunters.

He bore much more the resemblance to a gentleman on a visit at the house of a country neighbour, than to a prisoner on the point of being shot. He did not appear to care the least in the world about the danger he was running. As soon as he had finished speaking, whilst the trappers were consulting in a low voice, he employed himself in rolling a husk cigarette, which he lit and smoked quietly.

"Doña Luz," Loyal Heart resumed, with ill-disguised impatience, "has nothing to do with these debates; her presence is not necessary."

"You are entirely mistaken, my dear sir," the pirate coolly replied, puffing out a volume of smoke; "she is indispensable, and for this reason: – You understand perfectly, do you not, that I am too cunning a fox to give myself up thus voluntarily into your hands, if I had not behind me someone whose life would answer for mine. That someone is the uncle of the young lady. If I am not at midnight in my den, as you do me the honour to call it, with my brave companions, at precisely ten minutes after midnight the honourable gentleman will be shot without fail or pity."

A shudder of anger ran along the ranks of the hunters.

"I know very well," the pirate continued, "that you, personally, care very little for the life of the general, and would generously sacrifice it in exchange for mine; but, fortunately for me, Doña Luz, I am convinced, is not of your opinion, and attaches great value to the existence of her uncle; be good enough, therefore, to beg her to come here, in order that she may hear the proposal I have to make her. Time presses, the way to my encampment is long; if I arrive too late, you alone will be responsible for the misfortunes that may be caused by my involuntary delay."

"I am here, sir," said Doña Luz, coming forward. Concealed amidst the crowd of hunters, she had heard all that had been said.

The pirate threw away his half-consumed cigarette, bowed courteously to the young lady, and saluted her with respect.

"I am proud of the honour, señora, that you deign to do me."

"A truce to ironical compliments, if you please. I am listening to you; what have you to say to me?"

"You judge me wrongly, señora," the pirate replied; "but I hope to reinstate myself in your good opinion hereafter. Do you not recognise me? I thought I had left a better remembrance in your mind."

"It is possible, sir, that during a certain time I retained a favourable remembrance of you," the young lady answered, with some degree of emotion; "but, after what has taken place within these few days, I can only see in you a robber and a murderer!"

"The terms are harsh, señora."

"Pardon them, if they wound you, sir; but I have not yet recovered from the terrors you have caused me – terrors which your proceedings of today augment instead of diminishing. Be pleased, then, without further delay, to let me know your intentions."

"I am in despair at being thus ill-understood by you, señora. Attribute, I implore you, all that has happened solely to the violence of the passion I feel for you, and believe – "

"Sir! you insult me," the young lady interrupted, drawing herself up haughtily: "what can there be in common between me and the leader of bandits?"

At this cutting reproof a flush passed over the face of the pirate: he bit his moustache with anger; but, making a strong effort, he kept down in the depths of his heart the feelings which agitated him, and replied in a calm, respectful tone, —

"So be it, señora; crush me – I have deserved it."

"Is it for the purpose of uttering these commonplaces that you have required my presence here, sir? In that case you will please to allow me to retire; a lady of my rank is not accustomed to such manners, nor to listen to such language."

She made a movement as if to rejoin the mother of Loyal Heart, who, on her side, advanced towards her.

"One instant, señora," the pirate cried, savagely; "since you despise my prayers, listen to my orders!"

"Your orders!" the hunter shouted, springing close to his side. "Have you forgotten where you are, miserable scoundrel?"

"Come, come! a truce to threats and abuse, my masters!" the pirate replied, in a commanding voice, as he crossed his arms upon his breast, threw up his head, and darted a look of supreme disdain upon all present. "You know very well you dare do nothing against me – that not a single hair of my head will fall."

"This is too much!" the hunter ejaculated.

"Stop! Loyal Heart," said Doña Luz, placing herself before him; "this man is unworthy of your anger. I prefer seeing him thus he is best in his part of a bandit – he at least plays that without a mask."

"Yes! I have thrown off the mask," the pirate shouted, furiously: "and now, listen to me, silly girl. In three days I will return – you see I keep my word," he added, with a sinister smile. "I give you time to reflect. If you do not then consent to follow me, your uncle shall be given up to the most atrocious tortures; and, as a last remembrance of me, I will send you his head."

"Monster!" the poor girl exclaimed, in an accent of despair.

"Ah! you see," said he, shrugging his shoulders, and with the grin of a demon, "everyone makes love after his own fashion. I have sworn that you shall be my wife!"

But Doña Luz could hear no more. Overcome by grief as well as other feelings, she sank senseless into the arms of the mother of the hunter, who with Nô Eusebio, bore her out of the larger apartment.

"Enough!" said Loyal Heart, with a stern accent, as he laid his hand upon his shoulder, "be thankful to God, who allows you to go safe and sound from our hands."

"In three days, at the same hour, you will see me again, my masters," he said, disdainfully.

"Between this and then luck may turn," said Belhumeur.

The pirate made no reply, but by a grin and a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders; and left the cavern with a step as firm and free as if nothing extraordinary had happened, without even deigning to turn round, so certain was he of the profound feeling he had caused – of the effect he had produced.

He had scarcely disappeared, when, from the other outlets of the grotto, Belhumeur, Black Elk, and Eagle Head rushed upon his track.

Loyal Heart remained thoughtful for an instant, and then went, with a pale face and a pensive brow to inquire after Doña Luz.

CHAPTER X.

LOVE

Doña Luz and Loyal Heart were placed with regard to each other, in a singular position.

Both young, both handsome, they loved without daring to confess it to themselves, almost without suspecting it.

Both, although their lives had been spent in conditions diametrically opposite, possessed equal freshness of feeling, equal ingenuousness of heart.

The childhood of the maiden had passed away, pale and colourless, amidst the extravagant religious practices of a country where the religion of Christ is rather a paganism than the pure, noble, and simple faith of Europe.

She had never felt a beating of the heart. She was as ignorant of love as she was of sorrow.

She lived thus like the birds of heaven, forgetting the days gone by, careless of the morrow.

The journey she had undertaken had completely changed the colour of her existence.

At the sight of the immense horizons which spread out before her in the prairie, of the majestic rivers which she crossed, of the grand mountains round whose feet she was often obliged to travel, and whose hoary heads seemed to touch heaven, her ideas had become enlarged, a bandage was, so to say, removed from her eyes, and she had learnt that God had created her for something else than to drag out a useless existence in a convent.