We must mention, to the honour of the French plenipotentiaries that, in the treaty they signed, the liberty of the count was formally guaranteed.
Now let us see by what extraordinary concourse of circumstances the count, when in such a critical position, was thus abandoned by all his friends. How was it that General Guerrero, his obstinate foe, had shown himself so kind and almost generous toward Don Louis during the last events we have narrated?
We will proceed to explain this; but, in order to do so, we must take up events further back, and return to Valentine and his comrades, whom we left galloping at full speed along the road to the hacienda.
[1] A little over £2000.
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
THE HACIENDA DEL MILAGRO.
The road from Hermosillo to the Hacienda del Milagro is perfectly well traced, straight and wide along the entire distance. Although the night was gloomy and unlit by the moon, as the five horsemen galloped on side by side, it would have been impossible for them to pass Don Cornelio without seeing him, had they caught him up; but they reached the hacienda without receiving any tidings of him.
The road had been so trampled in every direction during the last few days, both by French and Mexicans, that it was impossible for these experienced hunters to distinguish or take up any imprint which could serve to guide them in their researches. The traces of horses, wagons, and men were so interlaced in each other, that they were completely illegible, even to the most practised eye. Several times Valentine tried, though in vain, to read this book of the desert. Hence, the nearer the hunters drew to their destination, the more alarmed and anxious they became.
It was about eight in the morning when they reached the hacienda: they had travelled the whole night through without stopping, save to search for traces of the man they were pursuing. The hacienda was tranquil; the peons were engaged in their ordinary labours; the ganado was grazing at liberty on the prairies. When the hunters entered, Don Rafaël was preparing to mount on horse, seemingly to take a ride round his farm. A peon was holding a magnificent mustang, which champed its bit and snorted impatiently at being held so long. When the hacendero perceived the newcomers he ran toward them, playfully menacing them with his chicote.