Whether the bribe thus publicly offered, or merely the intrigues of Beltran, led to an adventure, which—seeing you are not disposed to sleep—I will now relate, I never could satisfactorily learn. Perhaps both had a hand in it, with a little envy to boot; for, as our refran says, donde reyna la enbidia, no puede vivir la virtud;[215] and I must needs confess that some of my followers were villains quite capable of saccando los dientes de un ahorcado,[216] if they would gain but the price of a bottle of wine by it.
I must, however, go back a little in my story, to inform you that, in gratitude for his deliverance from the French, my friend Alonzo (who considered that Beltran had rather held back on that occasion) declared himself in favour of my suit to his sister. But she, still infatuated with my smooth-tongued rival, whilst admitting my claims upon her esteem, said it was out of her power to regard me with a more tender feeling.
My love affair remained in this state, when one morning Alonzo repaired to my bivouac in the neighbourhood of Ubrique, and, telling me that a spy, on whose fidelity he could perfectly rely, had sent him information that the enemy’s garrison at Ronda had been so reduced by draughts for the siege of Cadiz that the defence of the place was intrusted almost entirely to a small detachment of cavalry, proposed that we should make a combined attack upon it; he undertaking to engage Beltran in the project by making a diversion in our favour to draw off part of the garrison in an opposite direction.
My own accounts of the state of the garrison of Ronda coinciding perfectly with that of Alonzo, I readily agreed to his proposal; and it was decided that, after he had given the necessary instructions to Beltran, with whom, notwithstanding their little coolness, he still continued on friendly terms, a messenger should be sent to me, to fix the day for our rendezvous at Grazalema, a small but strongly situated town, on the line of communication between Ronda and Cadiz, from which the French had recently been driven.
After waiting impatiently for several days without receiving any further intelligence, a letter from Alonzo at length reached me, accounting for the delay by informing me he had been seized with a bad Tertiana, which kept him a prisoner at Gaucin, and, he regretted to say, would prevent his taking an active part in the projected attack on the enemy; but that every thing had been arranged as agreed between us, excepting that Beltran had preferred joining me with his troop, being but little acquainted with the country about El Burgo (whither it was proposed to decoy the enemy), and would cross the Guadiaro with his band at La Torre del Paso on the third day after the date of this communication, and remain there until he heard from me. Meanwhile, Alonzo said, his own band had proceeded to El Burgo, under the command of his brother Melchor.
On the receipt of this letter, I immediately quitted my bivouac, and proceeded to Grazalema, so timing my movements as not to reach that town until the sun had sunk beneath the wide horizon of the Atlantic ocean; and, after establishing myself in the house of an old compadre,[217] I sallied forth to post the requisite videttes at the different outlets of the town. On returning to my quarters, I found a billet lying upon the table, containing the following mysterious warning, written in a female hand.
“Blas Maldonado.
“There are traitors in your band. Take care how you move from Grazalema, and, above all, beware of Pépé el Alamin.[218] Act with your wonted decision and circumspection, and you may yet escape the snare that is laid for you; but scorn not the advice of one who watches over you with the devoted affection that a woman’s heart alone is capable of feeling.”
I was lost in amazement; and who my fair inamorata could be was not the least part of the mystery. That there was treason of some sort stirring was evident, but where to seek for it was the difficulty. Could Alonzo’s illness be feigned? and his intention to betray me? Could it be a mere device of the French to detain me in the guet à pans of Grazalema, whilst they surrounded me? But how should they know of my arrival? Was it possible that my own secretary—the son of my adoption—Pépé el Alamin—was it possible that he would betray me?
My first impulse was to send for this worthy, and tax him with his treason; but circumspection was pointed out as necessary; I had no proofs to convict him, and the danger to be apprehended from others engaged in the plot would still be hanging over my head. I determined, therefore, to adopt another course, and endeavour if possible to trace the dark conspiracy to the fountain-head.