[CHAPTER I.]
EL RANCHO DEL COYOTE.
About a month after the events we have described in the first part of this veracious history, two horsemen, well mounted, and carefully enwrapped in their cloaks, entered at a smart trot the town of Santa Fe between three and four o'clock in the afternoon.
Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico, is a pretty town, built in the midst of a laughing and fertile plain. One of its sides occupies the angle formed by a small stream: it is surrounded by the adobe walls of the houses by which it is bordered. The entrance of each street is closed by stakes in the form of palisades; and like the majority of towns in Spanish America, the houses, built only one story high in consequence of the earthquakes, are covered with terraces of well-beaten earth, called azoteas, which are a sufficient protection in this glorious climate, where the sky is constantly pure.
In the time of the Castilian rule Santa Fe enjoyed a certain importance, owing to its strategic position, which allowed an easy defence against the incursions of the Indians; but since the emancipation of Mexico this city, like all the other centres of population in his unhappy country, has seen its splendour vanish forever, and despite the fertility of its soil and the magnificence of its climate, it has entered into such a state of decadence that the day is at hand when it will be only an uninhabited ruin. In a word, this city, which fifty years back contained more than ten thousand inhabitants, has now scarcely three thousand, eaten up by fevers and the utmost wretchedness.
Still during the last few weeks Santa Fe had appeared to emerge, as if by magic from the lethargy into which it is ordinarily plunged; a certain degree of animation prevailed in its usually deserted streets; in short, a new life circulated in the veins of this population, to whom, however, all must appear a matter of indifference. The fact was that an event of immense importance had recently taken place in this town. The two leaders of the conspiracy lately attempted had been transferred to safe keeping at Santa Fe.
The Mexicans, ordinarily so slow when justice has to be dealt, are the most expeditious people in the world when a conspiracy has to be punished. Don Miguel and General Ibañez had not pined long in prison. A court martial, hurriedly convened, had assembled under the presidency of the governor, and the two conspirators were unanimously condemned to be shot.
The hacendero, through his name and his position, and especially on account of his fortune, had numerous partisans in the province: hence the announcement of the verdict had caused a profound stupor, which almost immediately changed into anger, among the rich land owners and the Indians of New Mexico. A dull agitation prevailed throughout the country; and the governor, who felt too weak to hold head against the storm that threatened him, and regretted that he had carried matters so far, was temporising, and trying to evade the peril of his position until a regiment of dragoons he had asked of the Government arrived, and gave strength to the law. The condemned men, whom the governor had not yet dared to place in capilla, were still provisionally detained in the prison.
The two men of whom we have spoken, rode without stopping through the streets of the town, deserted at this hour, when everybody is at home enjoying his siesta, and proceeded toward an unpretending rancho, built on the banks of the stream, at the opposite end of the town from that by which they entered.
"Well," one of the horsemen said, addressing his comrade, "was I not right? You see everyone is asleep: there is nobody to watch us. We have arrived at a capital moment."