Wood Rangers Part 60

"Carramba! notwithstanding my well-known scruples, it is a good price, therefore I shall not hesitate; and if at the same time there is any other little favour you require of me, do not distress yourself--it shall be done cheaply."

That which has been previously said explains Cuchillo's unexpected appearance.

The outlaw, concealed upon the borders of the neighbouring lake, had escaped through the prologue which preceded the fearful drama in which he was about to perform a part. Taking all things into consideration, he saw that matters were turning out better than he had expected.

However he could not disguise from himself the fact that there was a certain amount of danger in his becoming the executioner of a man who was aware of all his crimes, and who could, by a single word, surrender him him to the implacable justice enforced in these solitudes.

He was aware that to gain the promised recompense, and to prevent Don Antonio from speaking, it would be necessary first to deceive him, and he found means to whisper in the ear of the prisoner--

"Fear nothing--I am on your side."

The spectators of this terrible scene maintained a profound silence, under a feeling of awe experienced by each of them.

A deep dejection of spirit had, in Don Fabian's case, succeeded the energetic exercise of his will, and his face, bowed towards the earth, was as pale and as livid as that of the man upon whom he had p.r.o.nounced sentence of death.

Bois-Rose--whom the frequent dangers which belonged to the life of a sailor and a hunter, had rendered callous to the physical horror with which one man looks upon the destruction of his fellow--appeared completely absorbed in the contemplations of this young man, whom he loved as a son, and whose dejected att.i.tude showed the depth of his grief.

Pepe, on his side, endeavoured to conceal under an impenetrable mask the tumultuous feeling resulting from his now satisfied vengeance. He, as well as his two companions, remained silent.

Cuchillo alone--whose sanguinary and vindictive nature would have led him to accept gratuitously the odious office of executor--could scarcely conceal his delight at the thoughts of the enormous sum he was to receive for the wicked service.

But in this case, for once in his life, Cuchillo was to a.s.sist in an apparently legal proceeding.

"Carramba!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, taking Pepe's carbine from him, and at the same time making a sign to Don Antonio; "this is an affair for which even the judge of Arispe himself would be sorry to grant me absolution."

He advanced towards Don Antonio.

Pale, but with flas.h.i.+ng eyes; uncertain whether in Cuchillo he beheld a saviour or an executioner, Don Estevan did not stir.

"It was foretold that I should die in a desert; I am, what you are pleased to call, convicted and condemned. G.o.d has reserved forme the infinite disgrace of dying by the hand of this man. I forgive you, Fabian; but may not this bandit prove as fatal to your life, as he will be to that of your father's brother, as he was--"

A cry from Cuchillo--a cry of alarm, here interrupted the Duke de Armada.

"To arms! To arms! yonder come the Indians!" cried he.

Fabian, Bois-Rose, and Pepe rushed to seize their rifles.

Cuchillo took advantage of this short instant, and sprang towards Don Antonio. The latter with his neck stretched forward, was also examining the wide extent of the plain, when Cuchillo twice plunged the poignard into his throat.

The unfortunate Mediana fell to the ground, vomiting forth torrents of blood.

A smile relaxed Cuchillo's lips: Don Antonio had carried out of the world the secret which he dreaded.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

THE JUDGMENT OF G.o.d.

An instant of stupor succeeded to the murder so suddenly accomplished.

Don Antonio did not stir; Fabian seemed to forget that the bandit had only hastened the execution of the sentence which he himself had p.r.o.nounced.

"Wretch!" cried he, rus.h.i.+ng towards Cuchillo, with the barrel of his carbine in his hand, as though he did not deign to raise its b.u.t.t against the executioner.

"There, there!" said Cuchillo, drawing back, whilst Pepe, more ready to acquit Don Antonio's murderer, interposed between them; "you are as quick and pa.s.sionate as a fighting-c.o.c.k, and ready every instant to sport your horns, like a young bull. The Indians are too busy elsewhere to trouble themselves about us. It was a stratagem of war, to enable me more speedily to render you the signal service required of me. Do not therefore be ungrateful; for, why not admit it? you were just now a nephew, most unsufferably enc.u.mbered with an uncle; you are n.o.ble, you are generous; you would have regretted all your life that you had not pardoned that uncle? By cutting the matter short for you, I have taken the remorse upon myself; and so the affair is ended."

"The rascal knows what he is about, undoubtedly," remarked the ex-carabinier.

"Yes," replied Cuchillo, evidently flattered, "I pride myself upon being no fool, and upon having some notion of the scruples of conscience. I have taken your doubts upon mine. When I take a fancy to people, I sacrifice myself for them. It is a fault of mine. When I saw, Don Tiburcio, that you had so generously pardoned me the blow--the scratch I inflicted upon you--I did my best to deserve it: the rest must be settled between me and my conscience."

"Ah!" sighed Fabian, "I hoped yet to have been able to pardon _him_."

"Why trouble yourself about it?" said the ex-carabinier. "Pardon your mother's murderer, Don Fabian! it would have been cowardice! To kill a man who cannot defend himself, is, I grant, almost a crime, even after five years' imprisonment. Our friend Cuchillo has saved us the embarra.s.sment of choosing: that is his affair. What do you say, Bois-Rose?"

"With proofs such as those we possess, the tribunal of a city would have condemned the a.s.sa.s.sin to atone for his crime; and Indian justice could not have done less. It was G.o.d's will that you should be spared the necessity of shedding the blood of a white man. I say as you do, Pepe, it is Cuchillo's affair."

Fabian inclined his head, without speaking, in acquiescence to the old hunter's verdict--as though in his own heart he could not determine, amidst such conflicting thoughts, whether he ought to rejoice, or to grieve over this unexpected catastrophe.

Nevertheless, a shade of bitter regret overspread his countenance; but accustomed, as well as his two companions, to scenes of blood, he a.s.sented, though with a sigh, to their inexorable logic.

In the mean time, Cuchillo had regained all his audacity, things were turning out well for him.

He cast a glance of satisfied hatred upon the corpse of him who could never more speak, and muttered in a low voice:

"Why trouble one's self about human destiny?--for twenty years past, my life has depended upon nothing more than the absence of a tree."

Then addressing himself to Fabian:

"It is, then, agreed, that I have rendered you a great service. Ah!

Don Tiburcio, you must resolve to remain in my debt. I think generously of furnis.h.i.+ng you with the means of discharging it. There is immense wealth yonder; therefore it would not do for you to recall a promise given to him who, for your sake, was not afraid--for the first time, let me tell you--to come to an open rupture with his conscience."

Cuchillo, who, notwithstanding the promise Fabian had made--to satisfy his cupidity by the possession of the gold,--knew that to make a promise, and to keep one, are two different things. He waited the reply with anxiety.

"It is true; the price of blood is yours," said Fabian to the bandit.

Cuchillo a.s.sumed an indignant air.

"Well, you will be magnificently recompensed," continued the young man, contemptuously; "but it shall never be said that I shared it with you:-- the gold of this place is yours."

"All?" cried Cuchillo, who could not believe his ears.

"Have I not said so?"

"You are mad!" exclaimed Pepe and Bois-Rose, simultaneously, "the fellow would have killed him for nothing!"

"You are a G.o.d!" cried Cuchillo; "and you estimate my scruples at their real value. What! all this gold?"

"All, including the smallest particle," answered Fabian, solemnly: "I shall have nothing in common with you--not even this gold."