The Freebooters Part 59

"May Heaven grant that we succeed!"

"Let us hope it. Do you think the coast is guarded?"

"I fear it, for your vessel must have been signalled all along the sh.o.r.e."

"Do you know whether the Mexicans have other s.h.i.+ps observing the ports, in addition to the corvette we have captured?"

"I think they have three more, but smaller than the _Libertad_."

"Hang it all! We must act prudently, then; however, whatever may happen, I will not desert so old a friend as yourself when unfortunate. We have still three hours before us, so try and sleep a little, for we shall have a tough job."

Tranquil smiled at this recommendation; but to please his friend, who had already laid himself down in his bunk, in the position of a man preparing to sleep, he wrapped himself in his zarape, leant back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

The night, which at the beginning had been very bright and clear, had suddenly become dark and stormy; black clouds surcharged with electricity covered the whole of the sky; the breeze moaned sadly in the rigging, and mingled with the dash of the waves against the sides of the vessel. The brig was sailing slowly close to the wind, the only sails it carried being double-reefed topsails, the fore staysail, and the spanker.

At the moment when the helmsman struck the two double strokes on the bell, indicating ten o'clock, Captain Johnson and Tranquil appeared on deck. The Captain was dressed in a thick blue pilot coat, a leathern belt, through which were pa.s.sed a cutla.s.s, a pair of pistols and an axe, was fastened round his waist; a cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and a broad-brimmed felt hat completely concealed his features. The Canadian wore his hunter's garb, though, through the dangerous nature of the affair, he had added a brace of pistols to his ordinary armament.

The Captain's orders have been carried out with that minute consciousness which Master Lovel displayed in everything connected with duty. The boarding netting was braced up, and the running rigging secured as if for action. At the starboard ladder the longboat was tossing with its crew of thirty men, all armed to the teeth, and holding their oars aloft ready to dash into the water. They were, however, m.u.f.fled, so as to stifle, as far as possible, the sound of rowing, and foil the vigilance of the Mexicans.

"That is well, lads," the Captain said, after giving a pleased glance at their preparations, "let us be off. Mind, father," he added, turning to Father Lovel, "that you keep a good watch. If we are not on board again by four in the morning, stand out to sea, and do not trouble yourself further about us; for it will be useless to wait for us longer, as we shall be prisoners of the Mexicans; and any lengthened stay in these waters might compromise the safety of the brig. Be of good cheer, though, for I have hopes of success."

And after kindly pressing the old sailor's hand, he went down to the boat, seated himself in the sternsheets by the side of the hunter, took up the yoke lines, and said, in a low voice, "Push, off!"

At this command the painter was cast off, the oars dashed together into the sea, and the boat started. When it had disappeared in the fog, Master Lovel ran at full speed to the stern of the brig, and leaned over the taffrail. "Are you there?" he said.

"Yes," a suppressed voice answered him.

"Get ready," the Master added, and then said to an old sailor, who had followed him: "You know what I recommended to you, Wells," he said; "I reckon on you, and intrust the lookout to you."

"All right, Master," the sailor answered, "you can cut your cable without fear, I will keep a bright lookout."

"All right; get in, men, and double-bank the oars."

Some forty sailors, who were well armed, like their predecessors, let themselves down, one after the other, by a rope that hung over the taffrail, and got into a second boat, which Master Lovel had ordered to be quietly got ready, and of which he took the command. He started at once, and steered after the Captain's pinnace, whose direction he was pretty well acquainted with, saying every now and then to the rowers, in order to increase their speed, "Give way, my lads, give way, all!" and he added, as he chewed his enormous quid, with a cunning smile, "It was very likely I should let my old fellow have his face scored by those brigands of Mexicans, who are all as crafty as caimans."

So soon as he had left the s.h.i.+p, the Captain, leaving on his right hand a small fis.h.i.+ng village, whose lights he saw flas.h.i.+ng through the darkness, steered for a jutting-out point, where he probably hoped to disembark in safety. After rowing for about three-quarters of an hour, a black line began to be vaguely designed on the horizon in front of the boat. The Captain gave his men a sign to rest on their oars for a moment, and taking up a long night gla.s.s, he carefully examined the coast. In two or three minutes he shut up the gla.s.s again, and ordered his men to give way.

All at once the keel of the pinnace grated on the sand: they had reached land. After hurriedly exploring the neighbourhood, the crew leaped ash.o.r.e, leaving only one man as boat keeper, who at once pushed off, so as not to be captured by the enemy. All was calm, and a solemn silence reigned on the coast, which was apparently deserted. The Captain having a.s.sured himself that, for the present, at any rate, he had nothing to fear, concealed his men behind some rocks, and then addressed Tranquil.

"It is now your turn, old hunter," he said.

"Good!" the latter replied, not adding another word.

He left his hiding place, and walked forward, with a pistol in one hand, and a tomahawk in the other, stopping at intervals to look around him, and listen to those thousand sounds, without any known cause, which at night trouble the silence, though it is impossible to guess whence they come, or what produces them. On getting about one hundred yards from the spot where the landing was effected, the hunter stopped, and began gently whistling the first strains of a Canadian air. Another whistle answered his, and finished the tune he had purposely broken off.

Footsteps were heard, and a man showed himself. It was Quoniam, the Negro.

"Here I am," he said. "Where are your men?"

"Hidden behind the rocks close by."

"Call them up, for we have not a moment to lose."

Tranquil clapped his hands twice, and a moment later the Captain and his men had rejoined him.

"Where is the person we have come to deliver concealed?" the Captain asked.

"At a rancho about two miles from here. I will lead you to it."

There was a moment's silence, during which the Captain studied the Negro's n.o.ble face, his black flas.h.i.+ng eye, which glistened with boldness and honour; and he asked himself whether such a man could be a traitor? Quoniam seemed to read his thoughts, for he said to him, as he laid his hand on the Canadian's shoulder--

"If I had intended to betray; you, it would have been done ere now.

Trust to me, Captain; I owe my life to Tranquil. I almost witnessed the birth of the maiden you wish to save. My friends.h.i.+p and grat.i.tude answer to you for my fidelity. Let us start."

And without saying anything further, he placed himself at the head of the band, which followed him along a hollow way that ran between two hills.

While the incidents we have just described were taking place on the beach, two persons, male and female, seated in a room, modestly, though comfortably, furnished, were holding a conversation, which, judging from the angry expression of their faces, seemed to be most stormy. These two persons were Carmela and the White Scalper.

Carmela was half reclining in a hammock; she was pale and suffering, her features were worn, and her red eyes showed that she had been weeping.

The White Scalper, dressed in the magnificent costume of a Mexican Campesino, was walking up and down the room, champing his grey moustaches, and angrily clanking his heavy silver spurs on the floor.

"Take care, Carmela!" he said, as he suddenly halted in front of the young woman, "you know that I crush all who resist me. For the last time I ask you: Will you tell me the reason of your constant refusals?"

"What good to tell you?" she answered, sadly, "for you would not understand me."

"Oh! This woman will drive me mad," he exclaimed, clenching his fists.

"What have I done, now?" Carmela asked with ironical surprise.

"Nothing, nothing," he answered, as he resumed his hurried walk. Then at the end of a moment, he returned to the maid and said, "You hate me then?"

Carmela replied by shrugging her shoulders, and turning away from him.

"Speak!" he said, seizing her arm, and squeezing it fiercely in his powerful hand.

Carmela liberated herself from his grasp, and said bitterly:

"I fancied that since you left the western prairies, you contented yourself with ordering your slaves to torture your victims, and did not descend to the part of hangman."

"Oh!" he said, furiously.

"Come," she continued, "this farce wearies me, so let us bring it to a finale. I know you too well now, not to be aware that you would not hesitate to proceed to odious extremities, if I would not submit to your wishes. Since you insist on it, I will explain my thoughts to you."

Drawing herself up to her full height, and fixing on him a bright and challenging glance, she continued in a firm and distinct voice--

"You ask me if I hate you? No, I do not hate you, I despise you!"

"Silence, wretched girl!"

"Yourself ordered me to speak, and I shall not be silent till I have told you all. Yes, I despise you, because, instead of respecting a poor girl whom you, coward as you are, carried off from her relations and friends you, torture her, and become her executioner. I despise you, because you are a man without a soul; an old man who might be my father, and yet you do not blush to ask me to love you, under some ign.o.ble pretext of my resemblance with some woman I have no doubt you killed."