The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life. Gustave Aimard
perhaps it is not. I should be surprised if it had caught us up so quickly."
"What does it matter to us?" the count said.
"Nothing, that is true, if it is the diligence," the other replied after a moment's reflection; "at any rate it is as well to take our precautions."
"Precautions, why?" the young man asked in astonishment.
Oliver gave him a look of singular meaning.
"You know nothing as yet about American life," he said presently; "in Mexico, the first law of existence is always to put yourself on guard against the possible chances of an ambuscade. Follow me, and do what you see me do."
"Are we going to conceal ourselves?"
"Of course," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
Without any further reply, he went up to his horse, which he re-bridled, and leapt into the saddle with a lightness and dexterity denoting great practice, and then started at a gallop for a clump of liquidambars, distant a hundred yards at the most.
The count, involuntarily overpowered by the ascendancy which this man had contrived to obtain over him through his strange mode of dealing since they had been travelling together, jumped into the saddle and went after him.
"Good!" said the adventurer, as soon as they found themselves completely sheltered behind the trees; "Now let us wait."
Some minutes elapsed.
"Look!" Oliver said laconically, stretching out his hand in the direction of the little wood from which they had themselves emerged two hours previously.
The count mechanically turned his head in the direction; at the same instant some ten irregular horsemen, armed with sabres and long lances, entered the valley at a gallop, and proceeded along the road towards the first defile of the Cumbres.
"Soldiers of the Veracruz President," the young man muttered; "what is the meaning of this?"
"Wait," the adventurer remarked.
The rolling of a carriage soon became distinct, and a berlin appeared, dragged at a tremendous pace by a team of six mules.
"Maldición!" the adventurer exclaimed with an angry gesture on perceiving the carriage.
The young man looked at his companion: the latter was pale as a corpse, and a convulsive tremor ran over all his limbs.
"What is the matter?" the count asked him with interest.
"Nothing," he answered drily; "look—"
Behind the carriage a second squadron of cavalry came up at a gallop, following it at a slight distance, and raising clouds of dust as they passed.
Ere long cavalry and berlin entered the defile, when they soon disappeared.
"Confound it," the young man said with a laugh; "those are prudent travellers, at any rate; they will not run a risk of being plundered by the salteadores."
"Do you think so?" Oliver asked with an accent of biting sarcasm. "Well, you are mistaken, for they will be attacked within an hour, and probably by the soldiers paid to defend them."
"Nonsense—that is impossible."
"Would you like to see it?"
"Yes, for the rarity of the fact."
"You will have to take care though, for possibly powder may be burned."
"I hope so too."
"Then you are resolved to defend these travellers?"
"Certainly, if they are attacked."
"I repeat that they will be attacked."
"In that case we will fight."
"That will do: are you a good rider?"
"Don't trouble yourself about me; when you pass I will."
"Well, then, in Heaven's name, we have only just the time to get there; and mind and keep an eye on your horse, for on my soul, we are about to have such a ride as you never saw."
The two riders leaned over their steeds' necks, and loosing the bridle, while at the same time digging in the spurs, they started on the track of the travellers.
CHAPTER II.
THE TRAVELLERS.
At the period when our story takes place, Mexico was going through one of those terrible crises, whose periodical return has gradually brought this hapless country into the extremity to which it is now reduced, and whence it cannot possibly emerge unaided. The following are the facts that occurred:—
General Zuloaga, nominated President of the Republic, one day found—it is not known why—power too oppressive for his shoulders, and abdicated in favour of General don Miguel Miramón, who was consequently appointed interim President. The latter, an energetic and most ambitious man, began by governing at Mexico, where he was careful in the first instance to have his nomination to the first magistracy approved by Congress, who unanimously elected him, and by the ayuntamiento.
Miramón hence found himself de facto and de jure legitimate interim President; that is to say, for the period that must still elapse until the general elections.
Matters went on tolerably well for a considerable period; but Zuloaga, doubtless wearied of the obscurity in which he was living, altered his mind one fine day, and suddenly at a moment when it was least expected, issued a proclamation to the people, came to an understanding with the partisans of Juárez, who, in his quality of Vice President on Zuloaga's abdication, had not recognized the new President, but had himself elected constitutional President at Veracruz by a so-called national junta, and published a decree, by which he revoked his abdication, and took back from Miramón the power he had entrusted to him.
Miramón was but little affected by this unusual declaration, as he confided in the right he imagined he had, and which Congress had sanctioned. He went alone to the house inhabited by General Zuloaga, seized his person, and compelled him to follow him; saying with a sarcastic smile—
"As you desire to resume the power, I am going to teach you how a man becomes President of the Republic."
And, keeping him as a hostage, though treating him with a certain degree of respect, he obliged him to accompany him on a campaign, which he undertook in the interior provinces against the generals of the opposite party, who, as we have said, assumed the name of Constitutionals.
Zuloaga offered no resistance: he apparently yielded to his fate, and accepted the consequences of his position so far as to complain to Miramón about not having a command in his army. The latter allowed himself to be deceived by this feigned resignation, and promised that his desire should be satisfied at the first battle. But one fine morning, Zuloaga and his aides-de-camp, who had been appointed to guard, rather than do him honour, suddenly disappeared, and it was learnt a few days after, that they had taken refuge with Juárez, from whose capital Zuloaga began protesting again more than ever against the violence done him, and fulminating decrees against Miramón.
Juárez is a cautious, cunning Indian, a profound dissimulator, a skilful politician. He is the only President of the Republic, since the declaration of independence, who was not a military man. Issuing from the lowest classes of Mexican society, he gradually rose, by dint of tenacity, to the eminent post which he so recently occupied. Knowing better than anyone else the character of the nation which he pretended to govern, no one knew so well as he how to flatter popular passions, and excite the enthusiasm of the masses. Gifted with an immeasurable ambition, which he carefully concealed beneath the cloak of a deep love for his country, he had gradually succeeded in creating a party, which, at the period of which we write, had grown formidable. The constitutional President organized his government at Veracruz, and from his cabinet instructed his generals to fight Miramón. Although he was not recognized by any power but the United States, he acted as if he were the true and legitimate depository