THE ENVOY.
After the count's somewhat precipitate retreat, and the mission intrusted to Don Aníbal to detain him at the hacienda, if only for a few hours, the Mexican insurgents continued discussing in the hall the most fitting measures to obtain a speedy and good result for the new uprising which was preparing. Father Pelagio then informed the conspirators that this time the leaders of the revolutionary party wished to deal a heavy blow, and finish, at all risks, with the Spanish government. The secret societies spread over the country, and the recently created Masonic lodges, had, in a general meeting, elected as commander-in-chief of the national army Colonel Iturbide, whose well-known military talents were a guarantee of success.
Colonel Iturbide, who was destined hereafter to proclaim himself emperor, under the name of Agustín I., and fall beneath the bullets of his own subjects, who condemned him and mercilessly shot him, when he tried to regain the power he had allowed to slip from his grasp; Iturbide, we say, is the sole truly skilful statesman Mexico has produced since the revolution. He had served with distinction in the Spanish army, and had on several occasions displayed a devotion to the government which bordered on cruelty. Now that he was gained over to the revolution, nothing would arrest him in attaining the object of his secret ambition.
This time the Mexicans wished to avoid a serious fault into which they had previously fallen, and which had not only fairly compromised their cause but almost ruined it. This was the circumstance: When, in 1814, the Spanish armies, beaten in every encounter, seemed on the point of giving up the game, and yielding to the revolutionary turmoil, whose triumphant principles seemed solidly established on the territory of new Spain, General Morelos, at that time the most influential chief of the liberal party, whose ideas secretly inclined to a republic, established on the same basis as that of the United States, thought that the hour had arrived to convene a national congress.
This congress, at first composed of only a dozen members, began its session at Chilpancingo, where it promulgated decree upon decree; but the discussing power had scarce been established by side of the armed and acting power, ere, instead of combining their efforts for the triumph of the cause they had sworn to defend, they began contending together, each impeding the measures they should have taken in common, and by deplorable conflict destroyed their means of action. The congress tried to restrict the power of the general-in-chief, and prevented on every occasion his operations, so that the latter found it almost impossible to act.
These internal dissensions gave the Spaniards time to regain their courage. The Mexican republic was dead ere it lived, and the insurgents were obliged a second time to undergo the yoke from which they fancied themselves forever free.
As Colonel Iturbide and the chief of the liberal party were not yet quite ready to commence the insurrectionary movement, the great point was to wait and, before all, gain time; for this Fray Pelagio only saw one plan: to send to the general commanding the province a messenger-order to make him certain proposals, and bearing a respectful petition addressed to the Viceroy. During the absence of this ambassador, resistance would be quietly organized, and they would be ready to act when the signal for revolt was given by the chiefs. The conspirators enthusiastically applauded this proposal, which seemed to them fully to carry out the object proposed, namely cheating the Spaniards. Still, when it came to select the ambassador, serious difficulties arose.
Most of the persons present were rich hacenderos, long known to belong to the liberal party, and whom the government carefully watched; many of them had had to undergo numerous annoyances either in their estates or their persons from the Spaniards, and they were not at all anxious to surrender themselves to the mercy of enemies whose summary treatment they were acquainted with. In fact, the Spanish generals made no scruple about hanging or shooting the insurgents who fell into their hands, and there was no plausible reason for supposing that they would respect the person of an ambassador, sent by men whom they regarded as rebels, and with whom the law of nations and of war need not be followed. Consequently each found an excuse to escape the dangerous honour of being sent to the general.
The question became difficult of solution. Father Pelagio only saw around him long drawn faces, which foreboded no good for the execution of his plan; he was, therefore, considerably embarrassed and did not see how to escape the difficulty, when Don Aurelio suddenly came to his help at the moment when he least expected it.
"¡Canarios!" the Mexican exclaimed, "It must be allowed, caballeros, that we are pulling singular faces, and bear a strong likeness to the rats in Yriarte's fable, that wished to bell the sleeping cat."
In spite of the gravity of the situation, this sally was so true that it unwrinkled all the foreheads, and caused a general laugh.
"In truth," Don Pelagio observed, "Dios me perdone, we look as if we did not know exactly what to resolve."
"Yet I fancy that nothing is easier than the choice we propose making."
"How so?" the priest asked.
"Whom do we want as ambassador? A true man; we are all so, I believe. Still this man must be through his position sufficiently free and independent to be able honourably to fulfil the important mission intrusted to him. Is it not so?"
"Yes, you are right," Fray Pelagio answered, not knowing what the hacendero wished to arrive at.
All the company, puzzled in the highest degree, looked anxiously at Don Aurelio, unable to detect what the result would be. The latter continued quietly, as he laid his hands on the Sumach's shoulder, who, very indifferent to what was said, was carelessly listening to the discussion as he leant on his rifle.
"Well, the man you seek is here," he said: "our excellent colonel—he alone can worthily fulfil this great and glorious mission."
"What?" the adventurer exclaimed, starting as if a snake had stung him, "No jokes, if you please. If it be a joke, I warn you that I consider it a poor one."
"I am not joking at all, Colonel," the hacendero continued with a gracious smile, "on the contrary, I am speaking very seriously."
"Nonsense, my dear sir. Your idea may seem to you a good one, but, for my part, I consider it absurd and in every way impracticable. Hang it," he added, as he passed his hand round his neck, "I know the Spanish gentry, and am not at all anxious to go and thrust my head down the wolfs throat out of bravado."
Father Pelagio at once perceived what advantage this plan possessed for everybody, hence he resolved to carry it out, and convince the adventurer, who, in fact, was the only man who could risk, owing to his very insignificance, going to the Spanish authorities.
"You are mistaken, Colonel," he said to the Canadian. "Don Aurelio's idea is an excellent one, and I give you credit for such good sense that you will agree with me in a moment."
"I doubt it hugely, caballero. I confess that I am curious to know how you will set about proving to me that I must go and be hanged or shot for the greater benefit of your cause," he answered with an ironical smile.
"Oh, that is very easy, Colonel. Understand me thoroughly."
"Oh, I am all ears."
"You alone can carry out this difficult duty, for the following reasons: in the first place you are a foreigner, citizen of a country with which the Spanish government would think twice before seeking a quarrel; and then you are a colonel in our army. You may be sure that any insult offered to you will not be left unpunished, and that I, your general, will take an exemplary vengeance."
"All that is very fine," the adventurer answered with a grin. "I allow that the Spaniards will be unable to confiscate my property, for even if I possess any, it is, thank heaven, out of their reach. But they can imprison and even shoot me. That is of some importance, I suppose; and, once I am dead, will you restore me the life taken from me? What shall I care then for the more or less exemplary manner in which you avenge my death? I shall not be the less securely buried."
"I repeat to you that the Spaniards will not dare touch a hair of your head; moreover, you will not go alone; the noble count whom you saw here just now will pledge himself to protect and defend you, for he will introduce you to the person to whom I am about to send you."
"Hum!" the adventurer continued, "All this is not very clear; but how do you know that the count will assume this responsibility? You have not yet asked him the question."
"No; but while your colonel's commission is being made out, and two months' advance are paid you for your outfit, I will go and speak to the count, and obtain his word that you shall incur no danger from the Spanish authorities, and that when your mission is completed, every security will be granted for your safe return."
The adventurer scratched his head as if very far from convinced. It was plain that, in spite of his general's explanations and the fine promises, he did not particularly care for the mission confided to him. Still, at the expiration of a moment, he drew himself up with a determined air, shook his head several times as if to drive away a troublesome idea, and said—
"Well, well, I see that madmen must always be madmen; so deuce take fear. The Spaniards, I suppose, are not more formidable than tigers; I shall not be sorry to have a nearer look at them, and so I accept your offer. When am I to start?"
"Tomorrow, with the count; he will escort you to the general."
"That is settled."
"Now, give your name to Don Aurelio Gutiérrez, in order that your commission may be filled up, and your letters of credit written."
"Good; my name is Oliver Clary, called the Sumach; this time I will not deny my name, for I believe that I shall see death pretty closely. I was born at Québec, and I am thirty-two years of age. Is that enough, or do you want any further information?"
"No, Señor Don Oliver, that is more than sufficient; now I will leave you for a few moments, and settle matters with the count."
"Do so, General, I trust to your promise."
"Depend on me."
And Father Pelagio left the room. The adventurer was at once surrounded by the conspirators, who warmly thanked him for his devotion to their cause, and the courage with which he was going to trace an imminent and terrible danger in order to serve it. The Canadian shrugged his shoulders, and quietly turned his back on them. So soon as his commission and letters of credit were ready, and he had received his money, he carefully placed all in his waist belt, and, making a sign to Moonshine, left the room with him.
We have already described in what way Father Pelagio obtained the count's assent; we will, therefore, not return to that subject, but merely state that the priest hastened to inform the Canadian, whom he met, of the success of his application, while warning him that he must be ready to start at sunrise of the next day.
"You know," he added, in a low voice, and with a smile, "that an ambassador must have eyes and ears; I trust to you to see and hear all that it may be useful for us to know."
"Good, good, leave me alone, I will prove to the Gachupinos that the Godos are not the only clever people, and that the Canadians are descended from the Normans; they will not catch a weasel asleep in me."
Father Pelagio exchanged a few more remarks with him, and then left, after wishing him success once again. The two Canadians then left the house and proceeded to the garden, where they sought the most secluded spot. On reaching one, where they did not fear being overheard, they stopped and sat down side by side on the ground.
"Friend Moonshine," the adventurer said, "I have brought you here because I wish to ask a service of you."
"I suspected it; speak, Oliver, you know that I am ready to do everything you wish."
"I do not know how I let myself be humbugged into accepting this confounded embassy, in which there are ninety chances in a hundred that I shall lose my hide; but what is done cannot be undone. Listen to me: during my absence you will take the command of my men, and I will give them orders to obey you as myself."
Moonshine gave a nod of assent.
"Now," the adventurer continued, "take this belt; it contains not only the gold I have just received, but also some savings of my own."
"What am I to do with it?"
"If I am killed by the Godos, I do not wish them to profit by my money. You will keep as much as you like, and send the rest to my old mother, you know where."
"I will send it all; I shall not need money, for if those brigands of Spaniards assassinate you I must revenge your death, and money will be useless to me."
"That is true; in that case you will send all. That is settled, thank you."
"There is nothing to thank me for; what you ask of me is simple."
"Yes, yes," the other said, with a shake of his head; "but who knows what turn matters will take?"
"Well, up to the present we have no cause to grumble, I fancy."
"It is true that we have succeeded in everything; my measures were so well taken that, without exciting the slightest suspicion, we managed to gain the very thing we aimed at; but we must wait for the end."
"Nonsense; we shall succeed; set your mind at rest about that, Sumach. Besides, our project is most honourable, as we wish to render a service to people to whom we do not owe the slightest obligation, and whom we do not even know."
"That is true. Well, let us trust to heaven. One last word."
"Out with it."
"Distrust that cunning-looking majordomo. I know not why, but he inspires me with an invincible repulsion."
"All right; I will watch him."
"Very good; now let us go to dinner."
The two men rose and went back to the house as quiet and careless as if they had been conversing about indifferent matters. Immediately after dinner, the adventurer assembled his comrades, made them recognize Moonshine as their chief during his absence, and then all his affairs being thus settled, he wrapped himself in his zarapé, lay down on the ground, and almost immediately fell asleep.