The Treasure of Pearls: A Romance of Adventures in California
for three. A couple of superior servants were just finishing the
decoration with vases of spring flowers, and so deftly doing their
work, that it was not any noisy blunder on their part that had aroused
him. He did not like to inquire of them who were going to be his
guests. Luckily, he was not long left on tenterhooks.
The door opened, and don Benito, showing himself, made way courteously
for Oliver to precede him. The American was clad in a Mexican dress,
jingling and shining with silver buttons, and really would have made
many a black-eyed damsel's heartache at a dance in his new but not
altogether unaccustomed array.
With fine forethought, Benito had arranged to take supper--or whatever
name this midnight meal deserved--with his old friend and the other
deliverer of his beloved daughter.
After appeasing hunger--for Gladsden's had revived, and Oregon Ol.
never seemed at a loss to eat when anything was on the board--they
conferred seriously.
The hacendero had made his servants and the Indians who were truly
converts kiss the cross and swear to die for their master--about the
only binding oath to impose on such gentry. A hundred of the least
dubious were to be clad in a kind of uniform so as to look like
soldiers.
"Your friend, our friend, will lead them. These North Americans
have persuasive methods and a spirit which converts the timid into
_guerreadores_--heroes even, which we do not possess, or we should not
be the yearly prey of the Comanches."
"As to leading them," said Oliver, eating a tortilla smeared with
marmalade with the gusto of a schoolboy, "I shall rather git on behind
them; and how they will charge when they know I shall shoot the first
that turns back on my toes!"
"If this is North American persuasion," began Gladsden, laughing.
"Jest another time. In brief, don Olivero will take his five score
sham soldiers out of the secret gate in the _corral_ which, by the
way, you may not know, every rich landed proprietor has in order in a
country of revolution; and he will go and ambush a quarter of a league
away. Meanwhile, we shall establish our watches so as not to be taken
by surprise. If the ambuscade be discovered, don Olivero will signal
me by two rockets--red and white. If we, however, as is more likely,
are first attacked, we shall notify him, in await, by sending up two
rockets--white and red. Then will he lead, or follow his chivalry, and
take the red rabble in the rear as they envelope my farm. They will
imagine the lancers and dragoons have come from Ures or Hermosillo, and
recoil on our enclosure. We will rally out, and we'll mince them up
into bits as fine as that poor Matasiete was chewed by the sharks of
the Gulf of California; eh, you remember him, don Jorge?"
"Decidedly! He lives in my remembrance all the more lively, because I
cannot have been mistaken in my impression that I saw him only this
early morning."
"Saw don Aníbal, as he called himself? Saw the gallant of my late
aunt, Josefa Maria--and only this morning! Impossible! You are still
dreaming!"
"My friend! As truly as your bullet creased that hooknose, I saw it at
the wicket in the door of the Green Ranch Tavern. Don Matasiete, whose
garland of names I cannot recall in full, was not entombed in the maw
of the tintoreras, but escaped with the loss of a limb. In pleasant
allusion to that disaster he is called 'The Dismembered' even now,
and he is that One-leg Peter, or Pedrillo el Manco, who, it appears,
revives on this frontier all the old tales of rascally doing for which,
in former days, he was so famous. What's bred in the blood won't come
out with the loss of a limb, you see."
"An enemy like that! So near me, and often! How, then, is it that I
have never been injured by him or his band?"
"Really," answered Mr. Gladsden, perplexed, "I am at a loss to enter
into the mind of such rascals. Mayhap he is reserving you for a top off
to his career of scoundrelism."
The repast being ended, don Benito conducted his old and his new friend
to present them to his wife and family.
Neither they nor the other ladies had been informed of the terrible
disaster in suspense; and, as far as they were concerned, as well even
as some of the younger gentlemen from the neighbourhood, the festival
of the Angelito was still proceeding.
CHAPTER XX.
THE ANGELITO.
The hall into which the strangers were ushered by the host offered a
most strange and striking aspect.
It was magnificently furnished, and gorgeously illuminated by numerous
crystal chandeliers, crowded with rose wax tapers, and hung from the
ceiling. The walls had been covered with rare and thick old tapestry
of exquisite work. The richness of the sculptured furniture in oak,
mahogany, black walnut, and ebony, surpassed in solidity anything seen
abroad. The very catches, bolts, hinges, and locks, were in cut silver.
The whole floor was covered with very fine palm matting, or _petate_.
Two carpet covered platforms were erected, one at each end of this
hall, wherein some three hundred persons were looking at the principal
stage, and the sole one tenanted since, at a command from don Benito,
the musicians had vacated the other, intended only for them.
This second dais was arranged as an alcove, curtained in. Religious
emblems, in gold and jewels, decorated the depths. The poor little
child, victim of the Apache's missiles, powdered and rouged, was
propped up in a draped chair, clad in white satin and lace, and covered
with flowers, many more fading blooms strewing the floor.
The mother of this grandchild of don Benito was seated near her little
one.
She was a very young wife, of scarcely more years than doña Perla;
of equally rare beauty, but of corpselike pallor from her vigils and
sorrow, which, was rendered the more palpable by her cheeks being
thickly reddened with paint. Her fixed eyes, circled with black, gazed
into vacancy with wild feverishness. She tried to wear a calmly joyful
smile; but often a painful spasm convulsed her features, set her lips
quivering, her limbs shivering, and shook muffled sobs from her bosom.
About her were seated ladies, mostly young and fair, who were
attempting not to console the poor mother, but to cheer her up, as
their belief dictated.
The other guests were grouped around, chatting, smoking, and taking
refreshment from sideboards.
Don Benito saw, and perhaps in a measure comprehended, the reproving,
or, at least, pained look in the eyes of both the European and the
American shocked at such a scene when they were so full of perturbation
for the impending conflict.
"Conduct the reverend Father Serafino hither," he said to a servant.
A handsome and haughty youth, whom Mr. Gladsden recognised at once
by his resemblance to his father, came up to the newcomer, and
affectionately threw himself into his arms. It was don Jorge, the
bereaved father, though quite a boy in Mr. Gladsden's opinion.
"Caballero," said he; "nothing but your coming, the dearest, oldest
friend of my father, could have given me this moment's distraction
in my grief over my firstborn. Yours was the kindness that united
my father and mother. However can we repay the obligation we, their
children, lie beneath?"
"By showing me as much affection as I shall do to you, Jorge, my boy.
Upon my word, if I required any reward, I have it now amply, by shaking
the hand of so promising a namesake."
The young mother made an effort, smiled dolefully, and let her burning
hand rest in Mr. Gladsden's, while he kissed her equally heated
forehead, and then threw a few of the already wilting spring flowerets
upon the lap of the little corpse.
During this, Father Serafino had come into the hall. Instantly on
seeing him all chatter ceased, and on every side the ladies and
gentlemen respectfully saluted him.
Meanwhile, Gladsden turned sorrowfully to a lady in black and rose
satin, covered with jewelry, in whom he well knew again, spite of a
loss of slenderness, the graceful Dolores who had been his passenger on
the _Little Joker_.
Her emotion was too full for words as she clasped his proffered hand in
both hers, shining with rings, among which emeralds and pearls gleamed,
due to that hoard he had inherited and shared with this noble family.
They had no leisure for a conversation, as the priest, at the
suggestion of the host, had slowly mounted the musicians' platform, and
now said in a sympathetic but firm voice:--
"Young mother, retire now into your private apartments and there give
way way to your woes. Go, and in praying forget not, together with your
blessed babe, all those who are within the precincts of this house,
inasmuch as an unexampled danger menaces them. And you, my sisters," he
continued, addressing the other ladies, "accompany your kinswoman and
friend, console her and join in her prayers. Your place is no longer
here."
The young mother rose with a sudden sob, and in an instant her face
was flooded with tears. Her mother stepped in between her and the
dead child whereupon, as though that interposition and eclipsing of
her lost treasure had broken a binding link, don Jorge's wife swooned
away in the arms of her friends. They all clustered round, and she and
her mother were borne away in their midst, amid softened wailing and
muttered sympathy.
The rest of the guests not in the secret were overwhelmed by stupor;
and, indeed, had anyone but the priest thus put an end to the important
ceremony, they would have loudly protested and even hushed him up.
"My brethren," resumed he, in a clear, full voice, "hearken to my
words and gather up all your courage. Throughout this entire province,
the Yaqui Indians have broken their bondage. They threaten Ures
and Hermosillo; already they have overswarmed I know not how many
farms--those houses are smouldering, their people are stiffening after
indescribable tortures! I come hither to warn our friend that Monte
Tesoro is the object of the rebels' march. Tonight, the attack will
come, peradventure in one short hour! Brethren, verily I bid ye not
forget that the enemies who threaten ye are ferocious pagans from
whom you can expect no mercy! Resist them you must, forasmuch as in
resisting them you preserve the people and the habitations deeper in
the land, as well as all the women and youth providentially here.
Thankful am I that the heavenly Hand hath guided me hither to warn
you of the wrath let loose, to cheer you in your tribulations! Hence,
silenced be merriment! Cessation to all frivolous feasting! On our
knees, brethren, and let us all beseech the good and merciful Power,
without whom man is as naught, to make ye invincible."
It was a still more singular sight, more grand and impressive, when the
gay guests knelt in that glittering hall, redolent with flowers, smoke
of funeral meats, and incense, whilst the only upright thing was the
baby corpse in its chair of state, seeming to smile with a blushing
face, like an infant prince receiving homage.
When the Mexican gentlemen rose, their eyes were sparkling with
courage, enthusiasm, and resolution.
"¡Alerta! ¡Alerta!" arose without, as the principal note and the only
intelligible one in the clamour, more and more loud.
And "¡Alerta!" shouted an old majordomo, bursting into the hall with
his white hair streaming. "Oh, master! The Indians approach! The
revolted peons are pursuing a track of blood and fire! The pueblos, as
far as the eye can reach, are ablaze. The hosts will be at our stockade
in an hour! Already the patio is crowded with a throng of fugitives!"
It was overabundant confirmation of the priest's announcement.
"There is my place, amongst these unfortunates," observed he. "You do
your duty in your own way, whilst I console the fugitives, heal the
wounded, and pray for those who fall."