An immense shout, raised by the populace, drowned the words.
"Enter," the officer said.
The barrier was raised, the drums began beating, the bugles sounding, and the marching past began. There was something really grand in this scene, so simple in itself, but which made the heart beat more rapidly when you examined the resolute air of this handful of men, left to themselves without succour, six thousand leagues from their country, who so proudly sustained the name of France, and who, at the beginning of the campaign, without firing a shot, returned with a hundred prisoners captured at the moment they were preparing to surprise the camp.
The Sonorians, under an involuntary emotion, regarded the Frenchmen with a respectful timidity, mingled with admiration, and, far from pitying the fate of their compatriots, they overwhelmed them with yells and jests. So great is the influence of courage and energy on these primitive races! When the prisoners were collected in the middle of the camp square the count approached them, surrounded by his staff and some of the chief inhabitants of La Magdalena, who followed him instinctively, carried away by their enthusiasm. It was really a holiday. Floods of light inundated the landscape; a gentle breeze refreshed the atmosphere; the bugles played merry tunes; the drums rattled; and the assembled populace uttered shouts of joy, while waving handkerchiefs and hats. The count smiled, for he was momentarily happy. The future appeared to him less gloomy and sad. He examined the prisoners for a moment with a pensive eye.
"I have come to Sonora," he at length said in a piercing voice, "to give liberty to the people of this country. I have been represented to you as a cruel and faithless man. Begone! You are free! Go and tell your countrymen how the chief of the pirates avenges the calumnies spread abroad about him. I do not even ask of you the promise not to bear arms against me again. I have on my side something which is stronger than all the soldiers who can be opposed to me—the hand of God, which guides me; for He wishes that this country should be at length free and regenerated. Unfasten those men, and restore them their horses."
The order was immediately obeyed, and the people greeted this generous resolution with shouts and ebullitions of joy. The prisoners hastened to quit the camp, though not before they had displayed by energetic protestations, their gratitude for the count's generosity. Don Louis then turned to Captain Isidro.
"As for you, captain," he said gravely, "you are one of the few lions left from that war of independence which overthrew the Spanish power. We are brothers, for we both serve the same cause. Take back your sword: a brave man like you must always wear it at his side."
The captain looked at him gloomily.
"Why can I no longer hate you?" he replied. "I should have preferred an insult to your generosity. Now I am no longer free."
"You are so, captain. I ask from you neither friendship nor gratitude. I have acted as I thought it my duty to do. Let us each follow our own road, but let us try not to meet again."