We remained in this intricate country several months, watching the different approaches to Ronda, which, being one of the depôts for storing the supplies collected for the siege of Cadiz, afforded us abundant opportunities of making booty. During that period I became acquainted with one Alonzo Bazan, the chief of another guerrilla. He was a gallant young fellow, though affecting the Royalist rather too much to please me. However, we joined our bands together on several occasions, to attack the common enemy, when a greater force than we respectively commanded was necessary.
My intimacy with Alonzo brought me acquainted with his sister, now my wife. She was at that time a blooming girl of eighteen, and over head and ears in love with a young majocito of some substance, named Beltran Galindiz, who was the sworn friend of her brother, and had, at his persuasion—for I do not think he had a natural calling that way—raised a band of guerrillas amongst his relatives and dependents.
I confess to you, Caballeros, that I never felt the same love for Engracia, for such is my esposa’s name, that I had for my long-lost but ever-regretted Alitéa. The passion, indeed, to which her youth and beauty gave birth, might, perhaps, have passed away like many others, without leaving any impression, but for the very indifference with which my advances were received, and the passionate fondness that she evinced for the contemptible Beltran. In vain I practised every art to supplant him in her affections; and, what maddened me yet more than the thought of this beardless boy being preferred to myself, was that, as if confident of his influence over her, he regarded my rivalry with the most perfect indifference.
It happened, soon after my acquaintance with Engracia commenced, that her brother Alonzo, during a visit to Ronda, was arrested as a spy, and the French commandant of that fortress, thinking it would have a beneficial effect in putting down the insurrection to have him publicly executed at the place of his birth, directed him to be taken on the following day to Utrera for that purpose.
Having obtained notice of this, I determined, short as the time was to make arrangements, to attempt a rescue. Accordingly, I proceeded without delay to Alfaquime (a village over-looking the road by which the escort would have to march), and, sending the horses of my party to the convent of N. S. de los Remedios, about half a league further on towards Olbera, took post with my dismounted troopers at the head of a steep and very narrow defilé, which the road enters after winding round the base of the rocky mound, whereon the little town of Alfaquime is strewed like a stork’s nest.
Making my men conceal themselves in the gorse and underwood that clothed the banks of the narrow pass, and giving them orders not on any account to pull a trigger until they received the word, and then with deliberate aim, I picked out two good marksmen, whom I directed to fire at the horse rode by Alonzo; and, finally, selecting a bold rider, posted him as a decoy on a conspicuous knoll beyond the pass, but overlooking the approach from Ronda, giving him my own horse (which I knew would outstrip any pursuers, should he have to gallop for it), and directing him to mount only when he was quite sure the enemy had seen him, and then ride off, ventre a terre, as if taken by surprise.
My plan succeeded à merveille. Two French dragoons, who were pushed on in advance, as the party approached Alfaquime, soon discovered my scout, and seeing him mount his horse in great haste, and ride off as if to carry information to others beyond, spurred after him up the ravine. The main body of the escort, seeing their comrades gain the table land at its head without obstruction, took it for granted the coast was clear, and hastened up the ravine to keep them in view.
At the word, “fuego,”[212] Alonzo and six of the twelve Frenchmen composing the escort rolled to the dust; those who were so fortunate as to escape unhurt turned their horses’ heads, and fled back to Ronda. Alonzo was only stunned by the fall, but his horse was killed. We secured the chargers of the dead men, and rode in pursuit of the two dragoons who had given chace to our scout. We met them returning yet faster than they had gone, having discovered that we had sold them gato por liebre.[213]
They were two gallant fellows, and attempted to cut their way through us in spite of the fearful odds against them. This, Caballeros, (showing his mutilated hand) is a souvenir of their proficiency in the sabre exercise. Carajo! the hard-mouthed French brute I bestrode would not answer the bit so as to enable me to parry the blow; but my pistol brought the donor to the ground just as he had cut down one of my men, and was flattering himself he had got clear off. The other Frenchman made a desperate resistance also, but was sabred after wounding two of my quadrilla.
This exploit was followed by several others, wherein the Gavachos were equally maltreated, but, into the details of which, it would be wearisome to enter. Suffice it to say that at length my name was so constantly en la boca de la fama,[214] that a large reward was offered for the body of Blas el Ratonero, dead or alive.