A long murmur of dissatisfaction greeted these words.
"Gentlemen," the count continued, "it was my duty to submit this proposition to you, and you will discuss it amongst yourselves. If it does not suit you, no more need be said. And now for the second. Mexico, since its emancipation, has languished in a state of the most scandalous barbarism. It would be grand to regenerate this people, or at least attempt it. The American emigration from the United States is at this moment invading California, leaving other emigrants no means, I will not say of prospering, but even of keeping on a footing of equality with the Yankees. We are here in Sonora, 200 resolute Frenchmen, well armed and disciplined. Let us seize a large town to have a basis of operations; then we will summon to us the French emigrants from California and all America. Let us emancipate Sonora, make it free and strong, civilise it in spite of itself, and not only shall we have created an outlet for French immigration, but have regenerated a people and formed a colony which will advantageously balance American influence on these shores, and oppose a dyke to its incessant encroachments. We shall have acquired a claim to the gratitude of our country, and have avenged ourselves on our enemies in the way Frenchmen revenge themselves; that is to say, by responding to their insults by kindness. Such, gentlemen, are the two sole methods we can select which would be worthy of men like us. Weigh my words carefully; reflect on my propositions; and tomorrow, at sunrise, you will inform me of your intentions through the channel of your officers. Remember one thing before all, comrades, and that is, you must maintain strict discipline among yourselves. Obey me passively, and place unbounded faith in me. If you fail in one of the duties I impose on you at this moment, we are all lost; for the struggle will become impossible, and consequently our enemies will gain an easy victory over us. In conclusion, brethren, accept my word that whatever may be the circumstances in which we find ourselves—however magnificent the offers that may be made me—I will never abandon you. We will perish or succeed together."
This speech was greeted as it deserved to be; that is to say, with an enthusiasm impossible to describe. The count then withdrew with Valentine.
"Alas, brother!" he said to him, with an expression of heart-rending sorrow, "the die is now cast. I, Count de Prébois Crancé, am a rebel, a pirate: I am at open war with a recognised power, with a constitutional Government. What can I do with the few men I command? I shall perish in the first battle—the combat is senseless. I shall be ere long the laughing stock of the world. Who could have predicted this when I left San Francisco, full of hope, to work those mines which I shall never see? What has become of my fair dreams, my seductive hopes?"
"Do not allow yourself to be downcast, brother," Valentine answered. "At present, above all, you need all your intellect and all your energy to fulfil worthily the task accident imposes on you. Remember that from this intellect and this energy depends the safety of two hundred of your countrymen, whom you have sworn to lead back to the seashore; and you must keep your oath."
"I will die with them. What more can they demand?"
"That you should save them," the hunter replied sternly.
"That is my most anxious desire."
"Your position is a fine one—you are not so alone as you fancy."
"How so?"