The Gold-Seekers: A Tale of California

"Is that true, little one?" the general asked, turning to the camarista, apparently busy at the moment in arranging the cuarto.

"Oh, señor general," she exclaimed, clasping her hands, "it was a fearful noise – a noise to wake the dead!"

"What the deuce could it be?"

"I do not know," she replied, assuming her most innocent air.

"Did it last long?"

"All the night," she said, trumping what her mistress had alleged.

"Hum! But it must have resembled something, I suppose?"

"Certainly, papa; but I do not know with what to compare it."

"And you, little wench, cannot you make a guess?"

"I fancy I know."

"Ah! Well, then, tell us at once, instead of leaving us in the dark."

"I will, Excellency. This morning, taking advantage of my lady's sleeping, I went down very gently to try and discover the cause of the noise that kept us awake all night."

"And you found it?"

"I think I did."

"Very good: go on."

"It seems that hunters arrived here yesterday with a large herd of novillos, toros, &c., which they are taking, I believe, to California. It was these animals which, by stamping and roaring, prevented us sleeping, for their corral adjoins this house."

"And how did you learn all this?"

"Oh! Very easily, Excellency. Accident willed it that I should address one of the owners of the herd."

"Listen to that! Accident was very kind."

Violanta blushed. The general did not notice it, but continued, "Are you sure they were not vaqueros belonging to some hacienda?"

"O no, Excellency; they are hunters."

"Good; and they want to sell their ganado?"

"The man I spoke with said so."

"I suppose he asks a high price?"

"I do not know."

"That is true. Well, my child," he added, rising and turning to his daughter, "so soon as you are ready we will breakfast, and perhaps I will deliver you from the horrible noise of these animals."

The general kissed his daughter once again, and left the room. So soon as he was gone the two girls began laughing like little madcaps.

We must allow that both had played their part to perfection, and though he little suspected it, had, in a few moments, led the general to do exactly what they wanted, while leaving him persuaded that he was merely acting from his own impulse.

A few minutes later Doña Angela joined her father in the cuarto, which was employed as dining room. The mayordomo had arrived, and the general only awaited his daughter's presence to begin the meal. This mayordomo, already known to the reader, was no other than Don Isidro Vargas, who had accepted this situation as a retiring pension.

The Mexican haciendas, especially in Sonora, are often eight to ten leagues in extent. To watch so large a tract of country, on which immense bands of wild horses and numerous herds of cattle pasture at liberty, a young, robust, and active man is generally selected, who is called in that country a hombre de a caballo. In truth, the profession of a mayordomo is excessively severe: he must constantly be on horseback, galloping day and night, in heat or cold, doing everything and looking after everything himself, and obliging the peons to work, who are the idlest fellows in existence, and the biggest thieves imaginable.

Don Isidro was no longer young. At the period when we bring him again on the stage he was nearly seventy; but this long, thin man, on whose bones a yellow skin, dry as parchment, seemed to be glued, was as upright and vigorous as if he were but thirty: age had gained no power over his body, which was solely composed of muscles and nerves. Thus, by his continual vigilance, his indefatigable ardour, and his uncommon energy, he was the terror of the poor fellows whom their evil destiny had placed under his orders, and who fully believed that their mayordomo had made a compact with the demon, so closely did he watch them, and so thoroughly was he acquainted with their slightest actions.

The mayordomo had retained his botas vaqueras, and his spurs with enormous rowels, which compel the wearer to walk tiptoe. His zarapé and hat of vicuna skin were negligently thrown on a butaca in a corner, and at his left side hung a sheathless machete, passed through an iron ring.

So soon as he perceived the young lady he walked up to her, wished her good day, and embraced her affectionately. The captain knew Doña Angela from the day of her birth, and loved her as his daughter. She, for her part, entertained a great friendship for the old soldier, with whom she had played when a child, and whom she still liked to tease, to which the worthy mayordomo lent himself with the best grace in the world.

They sat down to table; but that expression is somewhat pretentious when applied to a Mexican breakfast.

We have already frequently remarked that the Spanish Americans are the most sober people in the world. The least thing suffices them. Thus the breakfast in question was only composed of a small cup of that excellent chocolate which the Spaniards alone know how to make, of a few maize tortillas, and a large glass of water. This meal, if it be one, is common to all classes of society in Mexico.

The party sat down to table, then, Doña Angela said the benedicite and the chocolate was served. The conversation, at the outset, was completely in the hands of the general and the captain, and turned exclusively on what had happened at the hacienda since the general's last visit; then it gradually veered round to the subject of the ganado.

"By the way," Don Sebastian said, "have you recovered any of the cattle those demons of Apaches took from us in their last attack?"

"Not a head, general, Válgame Dios! You might as well pursue the wind and the tempest as try to catch up those red devils."

"Then we have lost – "

"All that was within their reach; that is to say, about 2500 head."

"That is hard; and how have you repaired the loss?"

"Up to the present I have only succeeded in collecting 1500 head; and if you remember, it was on this very subject that you gave me the meeting here."

"I remember the fact perfectly; still I do not exactly see what we can do, except buy other cattle."

"Hang it! That is the only way we have of completing our herds."

"Have you any in view?"

"At this moment?"

"Yes."

"No, indeed, I have not, for the ganado is growing beyond all price. The discovery of gold in California has caused an enormous number of adventurers from every country to flock there. You know what the gringos are; they must have meat. These miserable heretics are such gluttons that they could not do without it; and thus they have devoured all the ganado they could find in their neighbourhood, and are now obliged to fetch it for nearly two hundred leagues. You can understand that such a thing sends prices up enormously."

"That is annoying."

"And yet, general, only an instant agone, while placing my horse in the corral. I saw the most magnificent herd of novillos that can be imagined. It is evident that the poor animals have travelled at least one hundred leagues, for they appear so fatigued."

Doña Angela gave a sly glance at her camarista, who was standing behind her.

"I have heard of them," the general said carelessly; "they are on the road to San Francisco, I believe."

"What did I say not a moment ago?" the captain exclaimed, striking his fist on the table. "Caray! If those confounded gringos are let alone, they will have devoured all our cattle before ten years have passed."

"Can we not try to purchase these?"

"It would be an excellent business for us, even if we paid dearly; but their owners will not be inclined to sell."

"Who knows? I fancy, on the contrary, that they are willing to get rid of them."

"Rayo de Dios! Buy them, then."

"Yes; but at what price?"

"It is certain that cattle are growing scarcer and scarcer: offer them for each head bought here the price it would fetch at San Francisco."

"Hum! And how is the market down there?"

"About eighteen piastres."

"Oh, oh! That is to say, for six hundred head – "

"Ten thousand eight hundred piastres: offer the even money."

"That is dear."

"What would you have? You will have to do it."

"That is true; but it is hard."

The general reflected for a moment, and then turned to his daughter.

"Angela," he said, "what is the name of the hunter who owns the herd?"

The young lady started.

"Why do you ask me, papa?" she replied, with feigned astonishment; "I really do not know what you mean. I am entirely ignorant whether there is a herd in this hostelry."

"That is true," the general said, recollecting. "Where the deuce is my head gone? It was your camarista, I believe, who spoke to one of the fellows."

"Yes, papa."

"Pardon me. Come, Violanta, my child, can you tell me this man's name?"

The girl approached with downcast eyes, and twisting the hem of her fine muslin apron between her fingers with an embarrassed air. It was evident she was trying all she knew to blush. The general awaited her answer for several minutes, but then lost patience.

"Come, you little fool," he exclaimed, "will you make up your mind to speak, yes or no? People would fancy I was asking you a question unfit for a maiden to answer."

"I do not say that, general," she replied hesitatingly.

"Enough of that mock modesty. What is the name of the owner of this ganado?"

"There are two, general."

"What are their names, then?"

"One is a Spaniard, the other a Frenchman, Excellency."

"What do I care what country the scamps belong to? I only want to know their names."

"One is called Don Cornelio."

"And the other?"

"Don Louis."

"But they have other names beside those?"

Violanta exchanged a rapid glance with her mistress.

"I do not know them," she said.

"Hum!" the general remarked sarcastically, "you only know people, it appears, by their baptismal names. That's worth knowing."

This time the girl really blushed, and retired in great confusion. Don Sebastian made a sign to a peon who was standing respectfully a few paces off.

"Gregorio," he said, "go and present the compliments of General Don Sebastian Guerrero to the Señores Don Louis and Don Cornelio, and beg them to honour him with a visit. You understand me?"

The peon bowed and went out.

"We must be polite with these people," the general observed. "Now that the discovery of the Californian placers has overthrown all classes of society, who knows with whom we may have to deal?"

And he accompanied this remark by a sarcastic laugh, in which the captain, as the worthy Mexican he was, noisily joined.

We will observe parenthetically that General Guerrero, like the majority of his countrymen, professed the most inveterate hatred for Europeans, a hatred which nothing justified, unless it was that superiority which the Creoles are obliged to recognise in the Europeans – a superiority which they submit to unwillingly, but before which they are forced to bow their heads.

Several minutes elapsed, and then the peon returned.

"Well?" the general asked him.

"Excellency," the peon answered respectfully, "the caballeros will have the honour of waiting on you. They are following me."

"Very good. Put a bottle of Catalonian refino and glasses on the table. I know from experience that these gentry have no partiality for pure water."

After this new jest the general rolled a papelito, lighted it, and waited. Within five minutes the sound of footsteps was heard in the corridor; the door opened, and two men appeared.

"It is not he!" Doña Angela murmured in a low voice, for her eyes were anxiously fixed on the door.

The two men were Valentine and Don Cornelio.

CHAPTER XI

A COMMERCIAL TRANSACTION

We have mentioned in a previous chapter the object for which Valentine presented himself in his friend's place. He wished to try and discover for what reason Doña Angela desired so ardently to see Louis again. As for Don Cornelio, he was intimately persuaded that his personal merits had done it all, and that the young lady's sole wish was to have another interview with himself.

On the other hand, the hunter, warned by Curumilla, was not sorry to see the man with whom he had been indirectly connected at another period of his life – a connection which might at any moment become more intimate, owing to the general's new position and Don Louis' projects.

The two strangers presented themselves boldly; their manner was respectful, without arrogance or excessive humility; such, in a word, as might be expected from men long tried by the innumerable hazards of an adventurous life.

The general probably expected to see men of low habits and vulgar features. At the sight of the two men, whose masculine and honest faces struck him, he started imperceptibly, rose, saluted them courteously, and invited them to sit down on chairs he ordered to be placed for them.

Doña Angela knew not what to think after Don Cornelio's positive statement. The absence of Don Louis, and the substitution for him of a man she did not know, appeared inexplicable. Still, without exactly understanding her feelings, she guessed, under this substitution, a mystery which she sought in vain to fathom. Violanta was as confused and astonished as her mistress: the captain alone remained indifferent to what passed. The old soldier, profiting cleverly by the fact of the bottle of refino having been placed on the table, had poured out a large glass of aguardiente, which he swallowed in small doses, while patiently waiting till the general thought proper to open the ball.

When the hunters had at length taken their seats, after repeated pressing, the general took the word.

"You will pardon me, gentlemen, for having disturbed you by compelling you to come here, when it should have been my place to go to your cuarto, as it is I who wish to speak with you."

"General," Valentine answered with a respectful bow, "my friend and myself would have been in despair had we caused you the least annoyance. Pray believe that we shall always be happy to obey your orders, whatever they may be."

After this mutual interchange of compliments the speakers bowed again. No people in the world carry to such an extent as the Mexican the feline gentleness of manner, if we may be permitted to employ the expression.

"Which of you two gentlemen," the general continued gracefully, "is Señor Don Cornelio?"

"It is I, caballero," the Spaniard answered with a bow.

"In that case," Don Sebastian went on, turning to the hunter with an amiable smile, "this caballero is Don Louis?"

"Pardon me, general," the Frenchman answered distinctly, "my name is Valentine."

The general started.

"What?" he said in surprise. "And where, then, is Señor Don Louis?"

"It is impossible for him to obey your orders."

"Why so?"

"Because," Valentine continued, casting a side glance at the young lady, who, though she appeared to be very busily talking with her camarista, did not lose a word that was said, "because, general, Don Louis, unaware that he should have the honour of being received by your Excellency this morning, started at sunrise for San Francisco."

Doña Angela turned pale as death, and was on the point of fainting at this news; still she overcame the emotion she experienced, and became apparently calm. She wished to learn all. This emotion, though so transitory, had not escaped Valentine's observation. The general nearly turned his back on his daughter: hence it was impossible for him to see anything that passed.

"That is annoying," he answered.

"I am in despair, general."

"His absence will doubtlessly be of short duration?"

"He will not return."

Valentine pronounced these words dryly. The emotion Doña Angela experienced was so lively that she could not check a slight cry of pain.

"What is the matter, niña?" her father asked her, turning sharply. "What is the meaning of that cry?"

"I cut myself," she answered with the most innocent air possible.

"Oh, oh!" her father said in alarm; "it is not dangerous?"

"No; a mere scratch. I was a goose to be frightened. Forgive me, papa."

The general asked no further questions, but continued his conversation with the Frenchman.

"I am vexed at this contretemps," he said, "for I wished to consult with your friend on very important business."

"No matter; I am here. My friend, on starting, gave me full power to act in his name. You can speak, general; that is to say, if you do not consider me unworthy of your confidence."

"Such a supposition would be an insult, sir."

Valentine bowed.

"Well, caballero," the general continued, "the affair I wished to discuss with your friend is certainly important; but if your full powers extend to commercial transactions, I do not see why I should not treat with you as well as with him."

"Speak openly, then, general, for I am Don Louis' partner."

"This is the affair in two words – "

"Pardon me," Doña Angela suddenly said, with a little air of resolution, which even imposed on the general himself; "before you begin talking about trade, I should like to ask this gentleman a few questions."

The general turned in surprise, and bent an inquiring glance on his daughter.

"What can you have to ask this caballero?" he said.

"You will soon know, my dear papa," she replied with a slight tone of sarcasm, "if you will permit me to ask him two or three questions."

"Speak, then, you little madcap," the general exclaimed with a shrug of his shoulders; "speak, and make a finish as soon as you can."

"Thank you, papa. Your permission is, perhaps, not very graciously granted, but I shall not bear you malice on that account."

"As you permit it, general, I am at the lady's orders."

"In the first place, sir, promise me one thing."

"What is it, señorita?"

"That you will answer frankly and honestly all the questions I may ask you."

"What is the meaning of this folly, Angela?" the general said impatiently. "Is this the moment or the place? Is it befitting for – ?"

"Papa," the young lady boldly interrupted him, "you gave me permission to speak."

"Granted; but not in the way you seemed inclined to do so."

"Have a little patience, papa."

"Bah!" the captain said, interposing, "let her speak as she likes. Go on, my child – go on."

"I am waiting this gentleman's answer," she said.

"I make you the promise you ask, señorita," Valentine answered.

"I hold your word. What is your friend's name, sir?"

"Which one, señorita?".

"The one whose place you have taken."

"His name is Count Louis de Prébois Crancé."

"He is a Frenchman?"

"Born at Paris."

"You have known him a long time?"

"Since his birth, señorita. My mother was his nurse."

"Ah!" she said with pleasure; "then you are really his friend?"

"I am his foster brother."

"He has no secrets from you?"

"None, I fancy."

"Good!"

"Come, come," the general exclaimed, "this is becoming intolerable. What is the meaning of this interrogatory to which you subject the caballero, and to which he has the goodness to yield so complacently? Confound it, niña! I beg the señor's pardon in your name; for your conduct toward him is most improper."

"What is there improper in it, papa? My intentions are good, and I am certain that you will agree with me when you learn why I asked the caballero these simple questions, which, however, appear to you so extraordinary."

"Well, go on. What is the reason?"

"This. Three years back, during your journey from Guadalajara to Tepic, were you not attacked by salteadores at the spot called the Mal Paso?"

"Yes; but what has that in common, I ask – ?"

"Wait," she said gaily. "Two men came to your assistance?"

"Yes, and I am not ashamed to confess that, without them, I should probably have not only been robbed, but murdered by the bandits. Unfortunately these men obstinately refused to tell me their names. All my researches up to the present have been fruitless. I have been unable to find them again, and show them my gratitude, which I assure you vexes me extremely."

"Yes, papa, I know that you have often in my presence regretted your inability to find the courageous man to whom you owe your life, as well as I do, who was but a child at the time."

The young lady uttered these words with an emotion that affected all her hearers.

"Unfortunately," the general said a moment later, "three years have elapsed since that adventure. Who knows what has become of that man?"

"I do, papa."

"You, Angela!" he exclaimed in surprise. "It is impossible."

"My father, the questions I addressed to the gentleman, and which he answered so kindly, had only one object; to acquire a certainty by corroborating through the answers I received certain information I had obtained elsewhere."

"So that – ?"

"The man who saved your life is the Count Don Louis, who started this very morning for San Francisco."

"Oh!" the general said in great agitation, "it is impossible. You are mistaken, my child."

"Pardon me, general, but my friend has frequently told me the story in its amplest details," Valentine observed. "Why seek to hide longer a thing you now know?"

"And to remove all doubts, if any remain, which I hardly suppose, papa, in the presence of this caballero's loyal assurance, look at this man," she added, pointing to the Spaniard. "Do you not recognise Don Cornelio, our old travelling companion, who constantly sang to his jarana the romance of El Rey Rodrigo?"

The general examined the young man attentively.

"It is true," he said presently; "I now recognise this caballero, whom I left wounded, at his own request, in the hands of my generous liberator."

"Whom I have not left since," Don Cornelio affirmed.

"Ah!" the general said. "But why this obstinacy on Don Louis' part to keep his secret? Did he fancy that gratitude was too heavy a burden for me to bear?"

"Do not think such a thing of my friend," Valentine exclaimed quickly. "Don Louis believed, and still believes, that the service he rendered you was too trifling to have such great importance attached to it."

"Caspita! When he saved my honour! But now that I know him he shall not escape me longer. I will find him sooner or later, and prove to him that we Mexicans have a memory as long for good as for ill. I am his debtor, and, by heavens! I will pay him my debt."

"That is good, papa," the young lady exclaimed, as she threw herself into his arms.

"Enough, little madcap, enough. Confusion! You are stifling me. But tell me, little rogue, I believe that in all this you have been playing me a nice little trick."

"Oh, father!" she answered with a blush.

"Would you, miss, have the goodness to explain to me how you obtained all this information? I confess that it puzzles me considerably, and I should like to know."

Doña Angela, began laughing to conceal her embarrassment; but suddenly making up her mind with that decision which marked her character, —

"I will tell you, if you promise not to scold me too severely," she said.

"Go on; we will see afterwards."

"I told you a story this morning, papa," she said, letting her eyes fall.

"I suspect it: go on."

"If you frown in that way, and put on your naughty air, I warn you that I shall not say a word."

"And you will be right, niña," the captain supported her.

The general smiled.

"Come," he said, "you are taking her part, are you?"

"Caspita! I should think so."

"Come, come, be at your ease; I will not be angry, the more so because I suspect that the pretty baggage behind you, with her cunning looks, has something to do with the plot," he said, looking at Violanta, who could not keep her countenance.

"You have guessed it, papa. I slept splendidly last night: nothing disturbed my slumbers."

"Just listen to that, the little deceiver!"

"Last evening, however, I heard the sound of a jarana accompanying the Romance del Rey Rodrigo. I remembered our old travelling companion who never sang anything else. I know not how it was, but I persuaded myself that he was the singer, and so I sent Violanta to invite him to my room. Then – "