The Adventurers. Gustave Aimard

      He turned sharply round, and beheld the Linda, with her vicious eye fixed upon him with a demoniacal expression. He sprang towards her.

      "Thank God!" he cried warmly, "you are again restored to your senses. Are you sufficiently recovered to explain the scene that has taken place here?"

      "A terrible scene, Don Pancho!" she replied, in a tremulous voice; "a scene, the bare remembrance of which still freezes me with terror."

      "Are you strong enough to describe it to me?"

      "I hope so," she replied. "Listen to me attentively, Don Pancho, for what I have to tell concerns you, perhaps, more than me."

      "You mean this insolent summons, I suppose?" he remarked, showing it.

      She glanced over it, and replied —

      "I did not even know that such a paper had been addressed to you. But listen to me attentively."

      "In the first place, have the goodness to explain to me what you just now said."

      "Everything in its turn, General; I will not fail to explain everything, for the vengeance I thirst for must be complete."

      "Oh!" he said, a flash of hatred gleaming from his eye, "set your heart at ease on that head, – whilst avenging myself, I will avenge you."

      The Linda related to the General what had passed between her and Don Tadeo in the fullest details – how the Dark-Hearts had snatched him from her hands, and the threats they had addressed to her on leaving her. But, with that talent which all women possess, of making themselves appear innocent in everything, she represented as a miraculous piece of awkwardness on the part of the soldiers charged to shoot him, the fact of Don Tadeo being alive after his execution. She said that, attracted by the hope of avenging himself upon her, whom he suspected of being no stranger to his condemnation, he had introduced himself unseen into her house, where by a strange chance she happened to be alone, having that evening permitted her servants to be present at a romeria (a fête), from which they were not to return before three o'clock.

      The General had not for an instant the idea of doubting the veracity of his mistress. The situation in which he had found her, – the incredible news of the resurrection of his most implacable enemy, altogether so confused his thoughts, that suspicion had no time to enter his mind. He strode about the room with hasty steps, revolving in his head the most extravagant projects for seizing Don Tadeo, and, above all, for annihilating the Dark-Hearts, – those never-to-be-caught Proteuses, who so incessantly crossed his path, thwarted all his plans, and always escaped him. He plainly saw what additional strength the escape of Don Tadeo would give to the patriots, and how much it would complicate his political embarrassments, by placing at their head a resolute man who could have no longer any considerations to preserve, but would wage war to the knife with him. His perplexity was extreme; he instinctively felt that the ground beneath him was mined, that he was walking over a volcano, but he had no power to denounce to public opprobrium the enemies who conspired his ruin. The recital made by his mistress had produced the effect of a thunderclap upon him; he knew not what measures to employ in order to counteract the numerous plots in action against him on all sides, and simultaneously. The Linda did not take her eyes off him for a moment, but watched upon his countenance the various feelings aroused by what she told him.

      We will, in a few words, introduce to the reader this personage, who will play so important a part in the course of the following history.2 General Don Pancho Bustamente, who has left in Chili a reputation for cruelty so terrible that he is generally called El Verdugo, or the executioner, was a man of from thirty-five to thirty-six years of age, although he looked near fifty, a little above the middle height, well made, and of good carriage, announcing altogether great corporeal strength. His features were tolerably regular, but his prominent forehead, his grey eyes deeply set beneath the brows, and close to his hook nose, his large mouth and high cheek bones, gave him something of a resemblance to a bird of prey. His chin was square, an indication of obstinacy; his hair and moustache, beginning to be streaked with grey, were trained and cut in military fashion. He wore the magnificent uniform, covered at every seam with gold embroidery, of a general officer.

      Don Bustamente was the son of his own works, which was in his favour. At first a simple soldier, he had, by exemplary conduct and more than common talents, raised himself, step by step, to the highest rank of the army, and had in the last instance been named minister-at-war. Then the jealousy which had been silent whilst he was confounded with the crowd, was unchained against him. The General, instead of despising calumnies which might have died out of themselves, gave them some degree of foundation, by inaugurating a system of severity and cruelty. Devoured by an ambition which nothing could satisfy, all means were deemed good by him for the attainment of an object he secretly aimed at, which was the overthrow of the republic and government of Chili, and the formation of Bolivia and Araucania into one state, of which he would cause himself to be proclaimed Protector – an object which, besides the almost insurmountable difficulties it presented, ever appeared – owing to the universal hatred which the General had aroused against himself – to slip further from his grasp each time he thought he was about grasping it.

      At the moment we bring him on the scene, he found himself in one of the most critical circumstances of his political career. He had in vain shot the patriots en masse– conspiracies, as always happens in such cases, succeeded each other without interruption, and the system of terror which he had inaugurated, far from intimidating the population, appeared, on the contrary, to urge them on to revolt. Secret societies were formed; and one of these, the most powerful and the most terrible, that of the Dark-Hearts, enveloped him in invisible nets in which he struggled in vain. He foresaw that if he did not hasten on the coup d'état he meditated, he should be lost beyond redemption. After a rather long silence, the General placed himself by the side of the Linda.

      "We will be avenged!" he said, in a deep tone; "be but patient."

      "Oh!" she replied, bitterly, "my vengeance has commenced!"