THE ANGELITO.
The hall into which the strangers were ushered by the host offered a most strange and striking aspect.
It was magnificently furnished, and gorgeously illuminated by numerous crystal chandeliers, crowded with rose wax tapers, and hung from the ceiling. The walls had been covered with rare and thick old tapestry of exquisite work. The richness of the sculptured furniture in oak, mahogany, black walnut, and ebony, surpassed in solidity anything seen abroad. The very catches, bolts, hinges, and locks, were in cut silver. The whole floor was covered with very fine palm matting, or petate.
Two carpet covered platforms were erected, one at each end of this hall, wherein some three hundred persons were looking at the principal stage, and the sole one tenanted since, at a command from don Benito, the musicians had vacated the other, intended only for them.
This second dais was arranged as an alcove, curtained in. Religious emblems, in gold and jewels, decorated the depths. The poor little child, victim of the Apache's missiles, powdered and rouged, was propped up in a draped chair, clad in white satin and lace, and covered with flowers, many more fading blooms strewing the floor.
The mother of this grandchild of don Benito was seated near her little one.
She was a very young wife, of scarcely more years than doña Perla; of equally rare beauty, but of corpselike pallor from her vigils and sorrow, which, was rendered the more palpable by her cheeks being thickly reddened with paint. Her fixed eyes, circled with black, gazed into vacancy with wild feverishness. She tried to wear a calmly joyful smile; but often a painful spasm convulsed her features, set her lips quivering, her limbs shivering, and shook muffled sobs from her bosom.
About her were seated ladies, mostly young and fair, who were attempting not to console the poor mother, but to cheer her up, as their belief dictated.
The other guests were grouped around, chatting, smoking, and taking refreshment from sideboards.
Don Benito saw, and perhaps in a measure comprehended, the reproving, or, at least, pained look in the eyes of both the European and the American shocked at such a scene when they were so full of perturbation for the impending conflict.
"Conduct the reverend Father Serafino hither," he said to a servant.
A handsome and haughty youth, whom Mr. Gladsden recognised at once by his resemblance to his father, came up to the newcomer, and affectionately threw himself into his arms. It was don Jorge, the bereaved father, though quite a boy in Mr. Gladsden's opinion.
"Caballero," said he; "nothing but your coming, the dearest, oldest friend of my father, could have given me this moment's distraction in my grief over my firstborn. Yours was the kindness that united my father and mother. However can we repay the obligation we, their children, lie beneath?"
"By showing me as much affection as I shall do to you, Jorge, my boy. Upon my word, if I required any reward, I have it now amply, by shaking the hand of so promising a namesake."
The young mother made an effort, smiled dolefully, and let her burning hand rest in Mr. Gladsden's, while he kissed her equally heated forehead, and then threw a few of the already wilting spring flowerets upon the lap of the little corpse.
During this, Father Serafino had come into the hall. Instantly on seeing him all chatter ceased, and on every side the ladies and gentlemen respectfully saluted him.
Meanwhile, Gladsden turned sorrowfully to a lady in black and rose satin, covered with jewelry, in whom he well knew again, spite of a loss of slenderness, the graceful Dolores who had been his passenger on the Little Joker.
Her emotion was too full for words as she clasped his proffered hand in both hers, shining with rings, among which emeralds and pearls gleamed, due to that hoard he had inherited and shared with this noble family.
They had no leisure for a conversation, as the priest, at the suggestion of the host, had slowly mounted the musicians' platform, and now said in a sympathetic but firm voice:—
"Young mother, retire now into your private apartments and there give way way to your woes. Go, and in praying forget not, together with your blessed babe, all those who are within the precincts of this house, inasmuch as an unexampled danger menaces them. And you, my sisters," he continued, addressing the other ladies, "accompany your kinswoman and friend, console her and join in her prayers. Your place is no longer here."
The young mother rose with a sudden sob, and in an instant her face was flooded with tears. Her mother stepped in between her and the dead child whereupon, as though that interposition and eclipsing of her lost treasure had broken a binding link, don Jorge's wife swooned away in the arms of her friends. They all clustered round, and she and her mother were borne away in their midst, amid softened wailing and muttered sympathy.
The rest of the guests not in the secret were overwhelmed by stupor; and, indeed, had anyone but the priest thus put an end to the important ceremony, they would have loudly protested and even hushed him up.
"My brethren," resumed he, in a clear, full voice, "hearken to my words and gather up all your courage. Throughout this entire province, the Yaqui Indians have broken their bondage. They threaten Ures and Hermosillo; already they have overswarmed I know not how many farms—those houses are smouldering, their people are stiffening after indescribable tortures! I come hither to warn our friend that Monte Tesoro is the object of the rebels' march. Tonight, the attack will come, peradventure in one short hour! Brethren, verily I bid ye not forget that the enemies who threaten ye are ferocious pagans from whom you can expect no mercy! Resist them you must, forasmuch as in resisting them you preserve the people and the habitations deeper in the land, as well as all the women and youth providentially here. Thankful am I that the heavenly Hand hath guided me hither to warn you of the wrath let loose, to cheer you in your tribulations! Hence, silenced be merriment! Cessation to all frivolous feasting! On our knees, brethren, and let us all beseech the good and merciful Power, without whom man is as naught, to make ye invincible."
It was a still more singular sight, more grand and impressive, when the gay guests knelt in that glittering hall, redolent with flowers, smoke of funeral meats, and incense, whilst the only upright thing was the baby corpse in its chair of state, seeming to smile with a blushing face, like an infant prince receiving homage.
When the Mexican gentlemen rose, their eyes were sparkling with courage, enthusiasm, and resolution.
"¡Alerta! ¡Alerta!" arose without, as the principal note and the only intelligible one in the clamour, more and more loud.
And "¡Alerta!" shouted an old majordomo, bursting into the hall with his white hair streaming. "Oh, master! The Indians approach! The revolted peons are pursuing a track of blood and fire! The pueblos, as far as the eye can reach, are ablaze. The hosts will be at our stockade in an hour! Already the patio is crowded with a throng of fugitives!"
It was overabundant confirmation of the priest's announcement.
"There is my place, amongst these unfortunates," observed he. "You do your duty in your own way, whilst I console the fugitives, heal the wounded, and pray for those who fall."
"Gentlemen," cried don Benito, "I assume command of my faithful tenantry, and I swear that the revolted redskins shall find my body the next barrier behind my hacienda walls."
"Courage and hope!" said Father Serafino.
Mr. Gladsden rose to go with the American in his sortie, since he had not sufficient acquaintance with Spanish to carry on conversation with the besieged, strangers all to him as well.
"Since we are still to travel in a team," said Oliver, gladdened by this arrangement, "put yourself inside a uniform like me. They've made me a brigadier general, at the least," he added, facetiously admiring himself in a well gold-laced coat.
Whilst the Englishman was apparelling himself in much such another suit, he continued:—
"Thar hev been six score men picked out for my band. The don says these hev had a brush with the smoke skins, and with wild cats, and can be relied on. I don't vally them a dollar per ton myself, Hows'ever, we shan't be shot by them in the back, as they are only trusted with long sticking poles, being rigged out as lancers—about all the heroes we shall find them, I opine."
"The lance is the Mexican national weapon," remarked Mr. Gladsden.
"I trust more to a dozen cowpunchers among 'em—the vaqueros do know how to swing the lasso, and that's a fact. Are you ready?"
"Your lieutenant is ready, Captain."
"Call me 'colonel.' They are all captains in my squad, I b'lieve. You have come out a full-grown shiner. I feel like the big dog with a new brass collar—how's your feel, too?"
In plain words, the pair looked a handsome and portentous couple in their metamorphosis into Mexican officers. On going out they found don Benito in the vestibule. He, too, had donned an old, but carefully preserved, brilliant costume of his father's as President-General, and was as the sun to a star in his superior effulgence beside them. A black servant was holding a golden salver, with a decanter and glasses rimmed with gold, at his elbow, grinning with awe and admiration at his master being so superbly caparisoned.
"A parting cup," said the hacendero, "and away! We have no time for coquetting."
"A loving cup," said Gladsden, tasting the cup, whilst Oliver refused his.
"I have head enough as it is," he remarked, in excuse. "You are drefful good, I will say that; but I am not overly grasping for liquor when thar is a monstracious kickin' out in prospect. After the slaying of the wild cattle, don, then I am 'on' for my share o' the b'ar steaks and honey."
On going out into the courtyard they at once perceived the great change. All the bonfires were beaten out, song and dance had been hushed, and the gates were closed and barricaded. In the gloom could only be distinguished the shadowy sentinels watching immovably in the loops and gaps in the wall, and at peepholes in the palisades. As Monte Tesoro was an eminence, these vigiladores could see fairly over the whole plain. Oliver pointed out that, to both east and west, there was a ruddy, tawny tinge.
"Villages burning. The enemy is coming on."
They crossed one immense corral, and then a still larger enclosure, wherein the hundred and twenty sham lancers were awaiting, each man standing by his horse, the bridle in the left hand, ready to vault into the saddle like real troopers. Two peons held a couple of very fine animals, completely harnessed and decked out, of which they presented the reins to Oliver and the Englishman.
Don Benito paused. With him were several of the elders of his guests; all wore grave expressions. Everyone was armed.
"Out!" said he.
He stepped over to the stockade, scrutinising it attentively for a space, then, stooping a trifle, he bore his weight on one particular pile, whereupon, all of a sudden, a piece of the palisade opened widely, like the secret door that it was, quite noiselessly, and left a broad gangway. Oliver waved his hand, signifying "come on!" and held up three fingers, meaning "three at a time!"—sign language being universal on the border where so many tongues are intermixed. The horsemen passed him in review, three abreast, each leading his mount.
As, strangely enough, the hoofs drew no sound whatever from contact with the soil, Mr. Gladsden stooped and examined the feet of his own steed, upon which act all the enigma was solved. Like the old wars man he was, Oliver had hinted that he wanted his troop with muffled hoofs, and the delicate trick over which King Lear was ecstatic, had been performed by swathing them in strips of blanket around cotton wool pads.
The Englishman was the very last to march forth, still shaking the hands of don Benito and his young namesake.
"Go with God!" said the sire, fervently; "You hold our fate in your brave hands. You alone can save us."
"Keep up your spirits," was the rejoinder. "That friend of mine is no common man, and, in any case, we are going to do our best. If I never return, mind, as that scrap of writing I dashed off, records, I leave my sons especially to you as a second father, and to you, Jorge, as an elder brother."
As he mounted, and moved on to join his comrades, the secret door swung to, and all dissolution of continuity in the barrier disappeared.
There was a ditch to leap, and its sloping front to slide down. There the squadron formed. Oliver had taken to his side the oldest tigrero, or "vermin" eradicator of the farm, as his pilot.
"Follow!" said the American, curtly, between this hunter and Gladsden, "By threes, follow!"