The Freebooters. Gustave Aimard

unintelligible by the hearers, "I swore it—"

      "'Tis a pity," Ruperto went on. "I am certain that hanging a Mexican Captain would have produced an excellent effect through the country."

      The Jaguar made a sign.

      "All right, all right," the adventurer continued; "if it is not pleasant to you, we will say no more about it. No matter, that is a funny notion of yours."

      "Enough," the young man said; "I have given my orders."

      So soon as he was alone. Captain Melendez let his head fall on his hands, and tried to re-establish the balance in his mind and arrange his ideas, which the shock he had received had utterly disordered. Still he gradually yielded to a species of lethargy, the natural result of his fall, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

      He slept peacefully for several hours, nothing happening to disturb his repose; and when he awoke he found himself quite a new man; the restorative sleep he had enjoyed had completely rested his nervous system, his strength had returned, and it was with an indescribable feeling of joy that he rose and walked a few steps on the prairie. With calmness of mind courage returned, and he was ready to recommence the contest. He noticed, too, with a certain degree of pleasure, that the adventurers left him at perfect liberty, and did not appear to pay any attention to him.

      Ruperto returned, but this time he had put off his mocking air, and carried some provisions in a basket. The adventurer offered them to the Captain with rough politeness, in which, however, the desire to be agreeable was perceptible. The Captain readily accepted the food, and ate with an appetite that surprised himself after so serious a fall.

      "Well," Ruperto remarked, "did I not tell you that you would be soon cured? It is just the same with the Captain—he is as fresh as a floripondio, and was never better in his life."

      "Tell me, my friend," Don Juan answered, "may I be allowed to speak with the Chief?"

      "Very easily—the more so, as it seems that he has something to say to you."

      "Indeed."

      "Yes, and he even ordered me to ask you if you would allow him an interview after dinner."

      "Most heartily; I am entirely at his orders; especially," the Captain added, with a smile, "since I am his prisoner."

      "That is true; well, eat quietly, and while you are doing so I will convey your message."

      Hereupon Ruperto left the Captain, who did not require the invitation to be repeated, but vigorously attacked the provisions placed before him. His meal was soon over, and he had been walking up and down for some time, when he saw the Jaguar approach. The two men bowed ceremoniously, and examined each other for some moments with the greatest attention.

      Up to this moment they had hardly seen one another; their interview of the previous evening had taken place in the darkness, and then fought obstinately; but they had found no time to form mutual opinions as they now did with the infallible glance of men who are accustomed to judge in a second, persons with whom they have dealings. The Jaguar was the first to break the silence.

      "You will excuse, Caballero," he said, "the rusticity of my reception: banished men have no other palace save the dome of the forests that shelter them."

      The Captain bowed.

      "I was far from expecting," he said, "so much courtesy from—"

      He stopped, not daring to utter the word that rose to his lips, through fear of offending the other.

      "From bandits, I suppose, Captain?" the Jaguar replied, with a smile. "Oh, no denial, I know what we are called at Mexico. Yes, Caballero, at the present day we are outlaws, border ruffians, freebooters; tomorrow, perhaps, we shall be heroes and saviours of a people; but so the world goes; but let us leave that. You wished to speak to me, I heard."

      "Did you not also evince a desire, Caballero, to have an interview with me?"

      "I did, Captain; I have only one question to ask you, though—will you promise me to answer it?"

      "On my honour, if it be possible."

      The Jaguar reflected for a moment, and then continued—

      "You hate me, I suppose?"

      "What makes you imagine that?"

      "How do I know?" the Jaguar replied, with embarrassment; "a thousand reasons, as, for instance, the obstinacy with which you sought to take my life a few hours agone."

      The Captain drew himself up, and his face assumed a stern expression which it had not worn hitherto.

      "I pledge you my word to be frank with you, Caballero," he said.

      "I thank you beforehand."

      "Between yourself and me, personally, no hatred can exist—at any rate, not on my side; I do not know you, I only saw you yesterday for the first time; never, to my cognizance, have you come across my path before, hence I have no reason to hate you. But beside the man there is the soldier; as an officer in the Mexican army—"

      "Enough, Captain," the young man sharply interrupted him; "you have told me all I desired to know; political hatreds, however terrible they may be, are not eternal. You do your duty as I believe I do mine—that is to say, as well as you possibly can, and to that I have no objection. Unfortunately, instead of fighting side by side, we are in opposite camps; fatality decrees it so; perhaps, some day these unhappy dissensions will cease, and then, who knows whether we may not be friends?"

      "We are so already, Caballero," the Captain said, warmly, as he held out his hand to the Jaguar.

      The latter pressed it vigorously.

      "Let us each follow the road traced for us," he said; "but if we defend a different cause, let us maintain, when the contest is raging, that esteem and friendship which two loyal enemies ought to feel, who have measured their swords and found them of equal length."

      "Agreed," said the Captain.

      "One word more," the Jaguar continued. "I must respond to your frankness by equal frankness."

      "Speak."

      "I presume that the question I asked surprised you?"

      "I confess it."

      "Well, I will tell you why I asked it."

      "What good will that do?"

      "I must; between us two henceforth there must be nothing hidden. In spite of the hatred I ought to feel for you, I feel myself attracted to you by a secret sympathy, which I cannot explain, but which urges me to reveal to you a secret on which the happiness of my life depends."

      "I do not understand you, Caballero; the language seems strange to me. Explain yourself, in Heaven's name."

      A feverish flush suddenly covered the Jaguar's face.

      "Listen, Captain, if you only know me today for the first time, your name has been ringing in my ears for many months past."

      The officer fixed an inquiring glance on the young man.

      "Yes, yes," the latter continued, with increasing animation, "she ever has your name on her lips—she only speaks of you. Only a few days back—but why recall that? Suffice it for you to know that I love her to distraction."

      "Carmela?" the Captain muttered.

      "Yes," the Jaguar exclaimed, "you love her too!"

      "I do," the Captain replied, simply, as he looked on the ground with an air of embarrassment.

      There was a lengthened silence between the two men. It was easy to discover that each of them was having an internal fight; at length the Jaguar managed to quell the storm that growled in his heart, and went on, in a firm voice—

      "Thanks for your loyal answer, Captain; in loving Carmela you take advantage of your good right, just as I do; let this love, instead of separating, form a stronger