The count had scarce arrived in Sonora, he had not yet set foot on land, ere he had to commence his diplomatic apprenticeship, and contend in craft and falsehood with people, from whom he should have expected the frankest friendship and most absolute devotion—a rude task for a character so loyal and thoroughly honest as that of the count; but the success of the expedition depended on his finesse, and the skill with which he eluded the snares which would be incessantly spread beneath his feet. He understood this, and made up his mind to his course of action, though it was against the grain.
After conversing for some time with the two men, the count, seeing that all was in readiness for the landing, gave orders for it. Immediately the adventurers took their stations with admirable order in the boats brought from the port to receive them. The small flotilla advanced steadily toward the beach, amid the shouts of the crowd assembled on the shore, and the clangor of all the town bells, rung as a symbol of rejoicing.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
THE FIRST FORTNIGHT.
A man must have been essentially a pessimist, or thoroughly acquainted with the Mexican character, to apprehend treachery on seeing the warm reception accorded to the Frenchmen by the inhabitants of Guaymas. It was a madness—a delirium impossible to describe. Leperos, rancheros, campesinos, rich hacenderos, all pressed round the French, vying with each other in offering them a hearty welcome. It seemed as if this little band of adventurers, who were only passing through the town, brought to Sonora peace, tranquillity, and liberty; in a word, all those things the Mexicans want, and for which they sigh in vain. The cries of, Viva los Franceses! Viva el conde! rose on all sides with a deafening sound.
So soon as the company landed, by Don Louis' orders, the ranks were speedily formed; and the count, having Colonel Florés on his right hand, Don Antonio on his left, led his men to the barrack prepared for them, clearing his way with difficulty through the dense masses of spectators. In front of the barrack the alcalde mayor, and the juez de letras—that is to say, the two principal authorities of the town—flanked by their ragged alguaciles, were awaiting the arrival of the company; and on perceiving them, Don Louis commanded a halt.
The two magistrates then walked a few paces toward the count, whom they saluted respectfully, and began a long address stuffed with all sorts of pompous Mexican hyperboles, from among which Don Louis managed to discover that the Sonorians rejoiced in the depths of their hearts at the arrival of the valiant French company; that they set on his courage all their hope of being protected against their ferocious neighbours, the Apaches; that the French had not landed on a foreign shore, but amid brethren and sincere friends, who would be delighted to have it in their power to prove their devotion; and a thousand other things too long to repeat here.
When the alcalde mayor had ended his discourse amid the warm applause of the crowd, the juez de letras began one in his turn, equally long, equally diffuse, and equally perfidious as the first, and which met with the same success.
We will remark here that the Mexicans adore long speeches.