"Well, it must be allowed," said Valentine, in his cheerful way, "that these savages, if savages they are, have some redeeming qualities belonging to them. I begin to take a warm interest in them. They are true Scotch mountaineers for hospitality. I wonder what my regimental comrades, and more particularly my old friends of the Boulevard du Temple, would say if they could see me now! Houp! After me, the end of the world!"
Louis laughed at this outburst of the incorrigible gamin, and, without further inquiries, the young men gaily abandoned themselves to the guidance of their new friends, who, after leaving the banks of the river, directed their course towards the mountains.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
THE BLACK JACKAL.
In order to make the facts which follow intelligible, we are obliged here to relate an adventure which happened more than twenty years before the period at which our history commences.
Towards the end of the month of December, 1816, on a cold, rainy night, a traveller, mounted on an excellent horse, and carefully wrapped in the folds of an ample cloak, was following at a round trot the road, or rather the blind path, on the mountains which leads from Cruces to San-José. This man was a rich landowner, who was making a journey into Araucania, for the purpose of treating with the Indians for a large number of cattle and sheep. Having left Cruces about two o'clock in the afternoon, he had been delayed on his way by settling some business with various guasos, and he was hastening to gain a hacienda he possessed at some leagues from the spot where he then was, and where he reckoned upon passing the night.
The country at the time was not in a state of tranquillity. For several days past the Puelches had appeared in arms upon the frontiers of Chili, and made incursions into the territories of the republic, burning the chacras, and carrying off the families they surprised. These marauders were commanded by a chief named The Black Jackal, whose cruelty spread terror among the people exposed to his depredations.
It was, therefore, with some anxiety, mixed with secret apprehensions, that the man we have spoken of made all speed along the desolate road which led to his hacienda. Every minute only added to his fears. The storm, which had threatened all day, burst forth at last with a fury of which we have no conception in our climates. The wind roared loudly through the trees, bending some, and uprooting others. The rain fell in torrents, and the lightning became so vivid, that the horse began to plunge and rear, and refused to advance. The rider spurred the restive animal, and endeavoured, as well as the darkness would permit, to discover whereabouts he was. After surmounting immense difficulties, he saw at length, in the distance, the shadow of the walls of his hacienda, and the lights which shone like guiding stars, when suddenly his horse bounded on one side in such a way as almost to unseat him. When, with much trouble, he had recovered his command of the animal, he looked round to see what could have frightened it so, and perceived, with terror equal to the horse's, several men of sinister appearance standing motionless before him. The horseman's first movement was to seize his pistols, in order to sell his life as dearly as he could, for he had no doubt he had fallen into an ambuscade of bandits.
"Keep your hands from your weapons, Don Antonio Quintana," said a rough voice; "we desire neither your life nor your money."