CONQUEROR AND PRISONER.
On seeing General Bustamente fall, the Chilians uttered a loud cry of triumph.
"Poor Joan!" Valentine murmured, as he cleft the skull of an Indian; "poor Joan! he was a brave, faithful fellow."
"His death was a glorious one," Louis replied.
"By dying thus bravely," Don Tadeo observed, "Joan has rendered us a last service.
"Bah!" Valentine philosophically rejoined, "he is happy. Must we not all die, one day or another?"
Valentine was in his element; he had never been present at such a festival, he absolutely fought with pleasure.
"Pardieu! we did wisely in quitting France," he said, "there is nothing like travelling."
Louis laughed heartily at hearing him moralize.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, brother," he said.
"Prodigiously." Valentine replied.
His courage was so great, so audacious, so spontaneous, that the Chilians looked at him with admiration, and felt themselves electrified by his example. Cæsar, covered by his master with a kind of cuirass of leather and armed with an enormous collar edged with steel points, inspired the Indians with the greatest terror—they knew not what to make of such a creature.
The battle raged as fiercely as ever; both Chilians and Araucanos fought upon heaps of carcases. The Indians gave up all hopes of conquering, but they did not even think of flying; resolved all to die, they determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible, and fought with the terrible despair of brave men who neither expect nor ask for quarter. The Chilian army drew nearer and nearer around them. A few minutes more and the Araucano army would have ceased to exist.
Antinahuel shed tears of rage; he felt his heart bursting in his breast at seeing his dearest companions thus fall around him. All these men, the victims of the ambition of their chief, died without a complaint, without a reproach. Suddenly a smile of strange character curled his thin lips; he beckoned to the Ulmens, who were fighting near him, and exchanged a few words.
After making a sign of acquiescence in reply to the orders they had received, the Ulmens immediately regained their respective posts, and during some minutes the battle continued to rage with the same fury. But all at once a mass of fifteen hundred Indians simultaneously rushed with inexpressible force against the centre squadron, in which Don Tadeo fought, and enveloped it on all sides.
"Caramba!" shouted Valentine, "we are surrounded! Mon Dieu! we must disengage ourselves, or these demons will cut us up."
And he dashed headlong into the thickest of the combatants, followed by the rest of his party. After a hot struggle of three or four minutes, they were safe and sound outside of the fatal circle.
"Hum!" said Valentine, "rather sharp work. But, thank God, here we are."
"Yes," the count replied, "we have had a narrow escape! But where is Don Tadeo?"
"That is true," Valentine observed. "Oh," he added, striking his brow with anger, "I see it all now. Quick, to the rescue!"
The two young men placed themselves at the head of the horsemen who accompanied them, and rode back furiously into the mêlée. They soon perceived the person they were in search of; Don Tadeo, supported by only four or five men, was fighting desperately.
"Hold out! hold out!" Valentine shouted.
"We are here! Courage, we are here!" the count cried.
Their voices reached Don Tadeo, and he smiled.
"Thanks," he replied despondingly; "but all is useless. I am lost."
"Caramba!" said Valentine, biting his moustache with rage; "I will save him, or perish with him."
And he redoubled his efforts. In vain the Aucas warriors opposed his passage, every stroke of his sabre cut down a man. At length the impetuosity of the two Frenchmen prevailed over the courage of the Indians, and they penetrated into the circle—Don Tadeo had disappeared.
All at once, the Indian army, feeling, no doubt, the impossibility of maintaining a longer contest with superior forces which threatened to annihilate them, dispersed.
The victory of the Chilians was brilliant, and, probably, for a long time the Araucanos would have no inclination to recommence a war. Of ten thousand warriors who had formed their line of battle, the Indians had left seven thousand on the field. General Bustamente, the instigator of this war, was killed; his body was found with the dagger still sticking in his breast; and, strange coincidence! The pommel of the dagger bore the distinctive sign of the Dark Hearts.
The results obtained by the winning of this battle were immense. Unfortunately, these results were lessened, if not compromised, by a public disaster of immense consequence, which was the disappearance, and perhaps the death, of Don Tadeo de León, the only man whose energy and severity of principles could save the country. The Chilian army in the midst of its triumph was plunged in grief.
The army encamped upon the field of battle; Valentine, the count, and Don Gregorio, passed the whole night in searching amongst this immense charnel house, upon which the vultures had already fallen with hideous cries of joy. The three men had the courage to lift and examine heaps of carcases; but all without success, they could not find the body of their friend.
The next morning at daybreak the army set forward on its march towards the Bio Bio, to re-enter Chili. It took with it, as hostages, thirty Ulmens.
"Come with us," said Don Gregorio; "now our friend is dead, you can have nothing more to do."
"I am not of your opinion," Valentine replied; "I do not think Don Tadeo is dead."
"What makes you suppose that?" Don Gregorio asked; "have you any proofs?"
"Unfortunately, none."
"And yet you must have some reason?"
"Why, yes, I have one."
"Then tell it me."
"I am afraid it will appear futile to you."
"Well, but tell it me, nevertheless."
"Well, since you insist upon it, I must confess that I feel a secret presentiment."
"Upon what do you ground that supposition? You are too intelligent to jest."
"You only do me justice. I perceived the absence of Don Tadeo. I went back again, in quick time. Don Tadeo, though closely pressed, was fighting vigorously, and I shouted out to him to stand his ground."
"And did he hear you?"
"Certainly he did, for he answered me. I redoubled my efforts—he had disappeared, and left no traces behind."
"And you thence conclude—"
"That his numerous enemies seized him and carried him off."
"But who can tell whether, after having killed him, they have not carried away the body?"
"Why should they do that? Don Tadeo dead, could only inconvenience them, whereas, as prisoner, they probably hope that by restoring him to liberty. Or perhaps, by threatening to kill him, they will have their hostages given up."
Don Gregorio was struck with the justness of this reasoning.
"It is possible," he replied; "there is a great deal of truth in what you say—what do you mean to do?"
"A very simple thing, my friend. In the environs are concealed two Indian chiefs."
"Well?"
"These men are devoted to Louis and me, and they will serve us as guides."
Don Gregorio looked at him for an instant in deep emotion, and tears glistened in his eyes; he took the young man's hand pressed it warmly, and said, in a voice tremulous with tenderness—
"Don Valentine, pardon me I did not know you; I have not appreciated your heart at its just value. Don Valentine, will you permit me to embrace you?"
"With all my heart, my brave friend," the young man replied.
"Then you are going?" Don Gregorio resumed.
"Immediately."
"Come on," said Valentine to his foster brother, as he whistled to Cæsar and clapped spurs to his horse.
"I am with you," Louis replied, promptly.
And they set off.