The Free Lances Part 19

"See that yours are loaded and in firing order," Rivas added, at the same time looking to his own.

The injunction was not needed, as the Irishman was already examining the weapons put into his hand, with a view to their efficiency.

Both pair of pistols were of the old-fas.h.i.+oned duelling kind-- flintlocks, with barrels nearly a foot in length. Like as not the Condesa's father and Don Ignacio Valverde, in days long gone by, had vindicated honour with them.

The inspection was quick and short, as had been all that preceded; pans sprung open, showing them filled with powder; rammers run into the barrels, then drawn out again, and replaced in their thimbles.

"Mine," said Kearney, first to report, "are good for two lives."

"And mine the same," rejoined Rivas, "unless I'm laid low before I can pull the second trigger. Now to dispose of the knives. My countryman, the _cochero_, however trustworthy, mustn't show fight. That would ruin all afterwards. But, if I mistake not, your colossal comrade is the man to make play with one of them in a pinch."

"You may be sure of it. He was in the Alamo with Bowie, and at Goliad with Fanning. Don't fear putting a knife into his hands; he'll make good use of it if we're driven to close quarters."

"Let him have it, then. You give it, and tell him all."

Kearney getting hold of one of the two knives, that seeming best suited for the hands he designed putting it in, pa.s.sed it on to Cris Rock--not through the carriage window, but a hole cut in the leathern hood by the blade itself. Speaking through the same, he said--

"Cris! we've got to run a gate where there's a guard of soldiers--maybe a dozen or so. You're to drive gently up, and, if you see it open, pa.s.s through--then lay on the whip. Should it be shut, approach more briskly, and pull up impatient-like. But do nothing of yourself--wait till I give you the word."

"Trust me, Cap; ye kin do that, I kilk'late."

"I can, Cris. Take this knife, and if you hear pistols cracking behind, you'll then know what to do with it."

"I gie a guess, anyhow," rejoined the Texan, taking hold of the knife, in a hand pa.s.sed behind him. Then bringing it forward and under his eyes, he added, "'Taint sech a bad sort o' blade eyther, tho' I weesh 'twas my ole bowie they took from me at Mier. Wal, Cap; ye kin count on me makin' use o't, ef 'casion calls, an' more'n one yaller-belly gittin'

it inter his guts; notwithstandin' this durnation clog that's swinging at my legs. By the jumping Geehosophat, if I ked only git shet o' that I'd--"

What he would do or intended saying, had to stay unsaid. Rivas interrupted him, pulling Kearney back, and telling him to be ready with the pistols. For they were nearing the place of danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

AN UNLOOKED-FOR SALUTE.

In a strict military sense the capital of Mexico cannot be called a fortified city. Still, it has defences, one being an _enceinte_ wall, which envelops it all round, leaving no straggled suburb, scarce so much as a house, outside. Compact and close stand the dwellings of the modern city as those of ancient Tenocht.i.tlan, whose site it occupies, though the waves of Tezcuco and Xochimilco no longer lap up to its walls.

The _enceinte_ spoken of is a mere structure of "adobes," large sun-baked blocks of mud and straw--in short, the bricks of the Egyptians, whose making so vexed Moses and the Israelites. Here and there may be seen a little redoubt, with a battery of guns in it; but only on revolutionary occasions--the wall, so far as defence goes, more concerning the smuggler than the soldier; and less contraband from abroad than infringement of certain regulations of home commerce--chief of them the tax called "alcabala," corresponding to the _octroi_ of France, and the _corvee_ of some other European countries.

The tax is collected at the "garitas," of which there is one on every road leading out of the city, or rather into it; for it is the man who enters, not he making exit, who is called upon to contribute to the _alcabala_. It is levied on every article or commodity brought from the country in search of a city market. Nothing escapes it; the produce of farm and garden, field and forest--all have to pay toll at the _garitas_, so losing a considerable percentage of their value. The brown aboriginal, his "burro" laden with charcoal, or skins of _pulque_, or himself staggering under a load of planks heavy enough to weigh down a donkey, which he has transported from a mountain forest--ten or twenty miles it may be--is mulcted in this blackmail before he can pa.s.s through a _garita_.

Not unfrequently he is unable to meet the demand till he have made sale of the taxed commodity. On such occasions he hypothecates his hat, or _frezada_, leaving it at the gate, and going on bareheaded or bare-shouldered to the market, to redeem the p.a.w.ned article on return.

Save through these gates there is no access to, or egress from, the Mexican capital; and at each, besides the official having charge of the revenue matters, a soldier-guard is stationed, with a guard-house provided; their duties being of a mixed, three-cornered kind--customs, police, and military. Five or six such posts there are, on the five or six roads leading out from the city, like the radiating limbs of a star-fish; and one of these is the _garita_ El Nino Perdido--literally, the gate of the "Lost Child." It is, however, one through which the traffic is of secondary importance; since it is not on any of the main routes of travel. That which it bars is but a country road, communicating with the villages of Mixcoac, Coyoacan, and San Angel.

Still, these being places of rural residence, where some of the _familiares principes_ have country houses, a carriage pa.s.sing through the gate of the Lost Child is no rarity. Besides, from the gate itself runs a _Calzada_, or causeway, wide and straight for nearly two miles, with a double row of grand old trees along each side, whose pleasant shade invites, and often receives, visits from city excursionists out for a stroll, ride, or drive. Near the end of the second mile it angles abruptly to the right, in the direction of San Angel--a sharp corner the writer has good reason to remember, having been shot at by _salteadores_, luckily missed, while pa.s.sing round it on his way from country quarters to the city. A horse of best blood saved _his_ blood there, or this tale would never have been told.

Asking the reader's pardon for a personal digression--with the excuse that it may throw light on the scene to follow--it will be understood how easily the guard on duty at the gate might be "thrown off guard" by a carriage pa.s.sing through it; especially on that day when there were so many, by reason of the grand doings in the city.

Several had just pa.s.sed, going country-wards; for it was the season of rural sojourn among the "ricos." So, when another appeared, heading in the same direction, the guard-sergeant at Nino Perdido saw nothing amiss, or to be suspicious of; instead, something to inspire him with respect. He had been on guard at the Palace scores of times; and by appearance knew all who were accustomed to pa.s.s in and out, more especially those holding authority. Liveries he could distinguish at any distance; and when he saw a carriage approaching along the street, with a coachman in sky-blue and silver, c.o.c.kaded, he did not need its being near to recognise the equipage of one of the Cabinet Ministers.

Though a non-commissioned officer, he was a man of ambitious aims; dreaming of gold bullion in the shape of epaulettes; and he had long had his eye on the epaulette of an _alferez_--officers of this rank being allowed only one. The good word of a Cabinet Minister, whether war, navy, or _Hacienda_, could give him what he was wis.h.i.+ng for, easy at a nod; and here was an opportunity of winning it.

"_Cabo_!" he cried out to his corporal, in a flurry of excitement, "throw open the gate--quick! Fall in, men! Dress up--ready to present arms! See that you do it handsomely!"

It was in his favour, and so he congratulated himself that the carriage came on rather slowly, so that he had ample time to get his half-dozen files well set-up and dressed for the salute.

There was some b.u.t.toning of jackets, stocks to be adjusted round s.h.i.+rtless necks, with shakos to be searched for inside the guard-house, and hurriedly clapped on. Still, it was all got through in good time; and, when at length the carriage came abreast, the guard was found standing at "present arms," the sergeant himself saluting in the most gracious manner.

They inside, knowing how, returned the salute in true soldier style, though with a surprised expression upon their faces. No wonder. Where they had antic.i.p.ated difficulty and danger, they were received with more than civility--accorded military honours!

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

"IS IT A GRITO?"

The soldiers of the guard had grounded arms, and were sauntering back to their benches, when something came into the sergeant's mind which caused him misgiving.

Was it possible he had been paying honours to those undeserving of them?

He was sure of it being the carriage of Don Ignacio Valverde; his horses and livery too. But nothing more. None of the party was known to him as belonging to Don Ignacio's family or servants. For Jose was but groom or second coachman, who occasionally drove out his young mistress, but never to the Palace, or other place where the sergeant had been on duty.

Equally a stranger to him was the big fellow on the box, who had hold of the reins, as also one of the gentlemen inside. It occurred to him, however, that the face of the other was familiar--awakening the memories of more than ordinary interest.

"_Mil diablos_!" he muttered to himself as he stood gazing after the retreating equipage. "If that wasn't my old captain, Don Ruperto Rivas, there isn't another man in Mexico more like him. I heard say he had turned _salteador_, and they'd taken him only the other day. _Carria_!

what's that?"

The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from the _garita_, still going on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase its speed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was this from any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip, as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box several times raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again.

Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for?

And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfied with the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to prevent it, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of the party were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when they pa.s.sed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might be expected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegant light equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of a Cabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?

The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! a gun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military college of Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringing of bells. First those of the Cathedral, then of the Acordada, and the convent of San Francisco, with other convents and churches, till there was a clangour all over the city!

Hark again! A second gun from the citadel, quickly followed by another from Chapultepec, evidently signals and their responses!

"What the _demonio_ is it? A _p.r.o.nunciamento_?" Not only did the sergeant thus interrogate, but all the soldiers under his command, putting the question to one another. It would be nothing much to surprise them, least of all himself. He was somewhat of a veteran, and had seen nigh a score of revolutions, counting _ententes_.

"I shouldn't be surprised if it is," he suggested, adding, as a third gun boomed out from the citadel; "it must be a _grito_!"

"Who's raising it this time, I wonder?" said one of the soldiers, all now in a flurry of excited expectancy.

Several names of noted _militarios_ were mentioned at a venture; but no one could say for certain, nor even give a guess with any confidence.

They could hardly yet realise its being the breaking out of a _p.r.o.nunciamento_, since there had been no late tampering with them--the usual preliminary to revolutions.

It might not be, after all. But they would be better able to decide should they hear the rattle of small arms, and for this listened they all ears.

More than one of them would have been delighted to hear it. Not that they disliked the _regime_ of the Dictator, nor the man himself. Like all despots he was the soldiers friend; professed and giving proofs of it, by indulging them in soldierly licence--permission to lord it over the citizen. But much as they liked "El Cojo" (Game leg), as they called him, a _grito_ would be still more agreeable to them--promising unlimited loot.

The sergeant had views of his own, and reflections he kept to himself.