The White Scalper: A Story of the Texan War. Aimard Gustave
a moment. What a man you are! There is no way of having an explanation with you."
"One word, then, but be brief."
"Well, as you are aware, I am not accustomed to make long speeches."
"I am listening to you."
"Why play with the butt of your pistol so? Vengeance is only real when complete. A shot fired would be the signal for your death, for you would be surrounded and attacked on all sides at once before you had even time to place a foot in the stirrup. You allow this, I suppose?"
"To the point, Master Davis, for I am in a hurry."
"You admit," the other said, with his old stoicism, "that I am seeking no unworthy subterfuge to avoid a meeting with you?"
"I know that you are a brave man."
"Thanks! I do not discuss the validity of the reason which makes you wish to exchange bullets with me: a pretext is nothing with men like ourselves. I pledge my word to be at your disposal on any day, and at any hour you please, with or without witnesses. Does that suit you?"
"Would it not be better to mount, gallop into the plain that stretches out before us, and settle the affair at once?"
"I should like to do so, but, unfortunately, I must, for the present, deprive myself of the pleasure. I repeat to you that we cannot fight, at least not at this moment."
"But the reason, the reason?" the young man exclaimed, with feverish impatience.
"The reason is this, as you absolutely insist on my telling it you: I am at this moment entrusted with very great interests; in a word, I am charged by the Chief of the Texan army with a mission of the utmost importance to General Rubio, Military Governor of Galveston. You are too much of a gentleman not to understand that this prohibits me risking a life which does not belong to me."
The Colonel bowed with exquisite politeness and uncocked the pistol, which he restored to his belt.
"I am confounded at what has taken place," he said. "You will excuse me, Señor, for having allowed my passion to carry me away thus; I recognise how worthy and delicate your conduct has been under the circumstances. May I venture to hope you will pardon me?"
"Not another word about the past, Colonel. So soon as I have terminated my mission, I shall have the honour of placing myself at your orders. Now, if nothing further keeps you here, we will proceed together to Galveston."
"I accept gladly the offer you make me. There is a truce between us: be good enough till further orders to consider and treat me as one of your friends."
"That is settled; I was certain we should end by understanding each other. To horse, then, and let us start."
"I ask nothing better; still, I would observe that the night is as yet only half spent."
"Which means?"
"That till sunrise, and perhaps later, it will be impossible for us to find a boat in which to cross over to the island."
"That need not trouble you, Colonel; I have a boat waiting for me, in which I shall be delighted to offer you a place."
"Hum! All the measures of you revolutionary gentlemen seem to be well taken; you want for nothing."
"The reason is very simple; would you like to know it?"
"I confess that I am curious in the matter."
"It is because, up to the present, we have appealed to the hearts, rather than the purses of our confidants. The hatred of the Mexican Government renders every intelligent man a devoted partisan; the hope of liberty gives us all we want; that is our whole secret. You are aware, Colonel, that the spirit of opposition is innate in the heart of every man; insurrection or opposition, whichever you like to call it, is only that spirit organised."
"That is true," said the Colonel, with a laugh.
The two enemies, temporarily friends, mounted and set out side by side.
"You have very singular ideas and opinions," the Colonel, whom the American's remarks amused, continued.
"Oh dear no!" the latter replied, carelessly; "Those ideas and opinions are nothing but the fruit of lengthened experience. I do not ask of a man more than his organisation allows him to give, and enacting these I am certain of never making a mistake. Hence, suppose that the Mexicans are expelled the country, and the government of Texas established and working regularly – "
"Good," the Colonel said, with a smile; "what will happen then."
"This will inevitably happen," the American answered, imperturbably. "A hot-headed or ambitious man will emerge from the crowd and rebel against the Government. He will immediately have partisans, who will make a flag of truce, and the same men who today are ready to shed their blood for us with the most utter abnegation, will act in the same way for him; not because they have to complain of the Government they desire to overthrow, but merely on account of that spirit of opposition to which I have alluded."
"Come, that is a little too strong," the Colonel exclaimed, as he burst into a laugh.
"You do not believe me? Well, listen to this: I who am speaking to you once knew, no matter where, a man whose whole life was spent in conspiring. One day luck smiled on him, and chance enabled him, hardly knowing how or why, to occupy the highest post in the Republic – something like President. Do you know what he did, so soon as he obtained power?"
"Canarios! He tried to hold his ground, of course."
"You are quite out. On the contrary, he went on conspiring, and so famously that he overthrew himself and was condemned to perpetual imprisonment."
"So that – ?"
"So that, if the man who succeeded to power had not amnestied him, he would, in all probability, have died in prison."
The two men were still laughing at John Davis's last repartee, when the latter stopped, and made the Colonel a sign to follow his example.
"Have we arrived?" he asked.
"All but. Do you see that boat tossing about at the foot of the cliff?"
"Of course I see it."
"Well, it is the one which will convey us to Galveston."
"But our horses?"
"Don't be uneasy; the owner of that wretched rancho will take all proper care of them."
John Davis raised a whistle to his lip and blew it twice sharply. Almost immediately the door of the rancho opened and a man appeared; but, after taking one step forward, he took two backward, doubtless astonished at seeing two persons when he only expected one.
"Halloh! halloh, John!" Davis shouted, "don't go in again."
"Is it you, then?" he asked.
"Yes! Unless it be the demon who has assumed my face."
The fisherman shook his head with a dissatisfied air.
"Do not jest so, John Davis," he said; "the night is black and the sea rough; so the demon is about."
"Come, come, old porpoise," the American continued, "get your boat ready, for we have no time to lose. This Señor is a friend of mine. Have you any alfalfa for our horses in your cabin?"
"I should think so. Eh, Pedriello, come hither, muchacho. Take the horses from the Caballero, and lead them to the corral."
At this summons a tall young fellow came yawning from the rancho, and walked up to the two travellers. The latter had already dismounted; the peon took the horses by the bridle and went off with them, not saying a word.
"Shall we go?" John Davis asked.
"Whenever you please," the fisherman growled.
"I hope you have men enough?"
"My two sons and I are, I should think, enough to cross the bay."
"You must know better than I."
"Then, why ask?" the fisherman said with a shrug of his shoulders, as he proceeded toward the boat.
The two men followed him, and found that he had not deceived