University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVIII.
THE TEXANS.

As the first din of that surprise fell
on the startled ears of the Mexican
commander, he sprang to his feet quickly
and, to say only what he merits, performed
his duty as a soldier gallantly,
however he had behaved himself as a
man and a gentleman.

“We are surprised!” he said coolly
enough, drawing his sword; “this is the
doing of these traitors but of that hereafter;
to your posts to your posts, gentlemen!
This can but be an insolent
attack of a handful of marauders, whom
we will beat back in a moment. There
is no regular force within thirty leagues
of us. To your posts, I say, away!”
and he rushed instantly into the hall,
which had been vacated already by the
subal erns, who remained in it when
their superiors had convened themselves
to form the court-martial.

All his officers followed his example;
unsheathing their swords, and dashing
forward gallantly to find their men, and
lead them to the charge—all save one,
Valdez—for, as is oftentimes the case,
the cruel and cold blooded savage was
the dastard also.

He drew himself up, it is true, and
set on his plumed hat at the correct
angle, and unsheathed his weapon, but
he made not one step toward the door,
nor even offered to follow his comrades.

“And why does the gallant Colonel
Valdez loiter in the rear, when his men
are in action?' asked Juan de Alava,
sneeringly.

“I might retort the question, sirrah,
were it becoming me to reply to a prisoner
and a traitor.”

“And did you so retort, sirrah,” answered
Alava quietly, “I might reply
that a prisoner has no right to be in
action, did it become me to reply to a
liar and a dastard!”

“This to me?” exclaimed Valdez.
“It shall be answered when your
friends, the Yankees, are driven off.”

“Aye! this to you!” replied Juan.
This and more also! and it shall be
answered sooner!” and he too unsheathed
his rapier, for he had not been
disarmed, owing to the suddenness with
which he had been implicated in the
alleged crime of his sister, and to the
irregularity of his arrest.

“Walk into the hall, Colonel Valdez,
and there I will answer you, if I do soil
an honorable blade with the blood of a
coward!”

“You have the advantage of me!
You are armed with knife and pistols,
as well as with your sword! Besides
you are a prisoner, and not my equal!”

“The gods be thanked therefor!
Now mark me! Before these ladies
whom you have insulted, would have
outraged, I strike you thus! I spurn
you with my foot thus, and thus!' and
as he spoke he suited the action to the
word, giving him a severe blow with
the flat of his sword across the shoulders,
and actually kicking him twice
with his foot.

“Now will you leave the presence
of these women, to which, coward-like,
you cling for protection, or shall I shoot
you, like a dog, before their faces?”
and with the words, he laid his hand
with an ommous gesture on the butt of
one of his heavy pistols.

“No! no! not here, for God's sake!
Oh! not here! not here!” shrieked
Julia Gordon.

“Drag out the dog by the neck, and
shoot him, like a dog, without!” cried
Margarita, sternly; for her Spanish
blood was up, and kindled by the insults
she had undergone; and her heart
was unsexed and merciless.

And Juan de Alava did step forward,
as if to execute her orders, when
driven to extremity the dastard turned
to bay, and delivered a fierce thrust at
him with his rapier; but it was parried,
and returned on the instant. Both men
were in the prime of life, young, active,
sinewy, and skilful to a wonder in the
use of their weapons. Well matched
in height and reach, had their spirit
been as equally matched as their
strength and stature, it would have
been a combat worthy of a Roman amphitheatre.
As it was, if Juan was as
brave as his own steel, and Valdez a
base coward, the last was still a coward
forced to fight for his life, and such,
proverbially, are dangerous.

Their weapons were the deadliest on
earth; the long, straight, two-edged
sword, fitted alike to cut and thrust,
and the strong, bayonet-bladed stiletto.
Cut followed cut, thrust, thrust, in
quick succession; so quick that the
dazzled eyes of the spectators could not
pursue their course, or note which took
effect, or which were surely parried.

Julia sank down on the bed, and
covered her face with her hands, unable
to look steadily upon a sight so terrible;
but Margarita stood by, with a flushed
cheek, and a flashing eye, and her ruby
lips apart, shewing the pearly teeth hard
set below them; and her soft brow
panting with the fierce excitement.
And ever and anon, as Juan pressed
Valdez hard, and backed him, foot by
foot, out of the chamber into the stone,
paved hall, she followed them, and
clapped her hands at every home thrust
which he sent almost to his heart;
crying, from time to time;

“Kill him! Kill him! Hermano
mio! For my sake, kill him! By no
hand but yours must the villain die!”

Still they fought on, desperate and
determined. Sparks flashed from the
collision of their blades; the sweat fell
from their brows like rain; their breath
was drawn hard, and loud, and painful;
yet neither flatered; this fighting for
his life, and that for vengeance.

And still, without, the sharp, continuous
crackling of the Texian rifles
was blended with the heavy platooning
of the Mexican escopetas; and all the
fearful uproar of a well-balanced battle
thundered and reeled, now nearer, and
now farther, as the victory, for the moment,
inclined to this side or to that.

It was clear that the Mexicans outnumbered
their assailants by vast
odds; but still the superior energy and
strength, and the unerring aim of the
Americans, outbalanced this advantage;
and, by the rapid cracks of the
rifle now overpowering fast the fuller
and more ringing reports of the carabinas,
it was seen that the Rangers
must, in the end, prevail.

Still there was much to be dreaded
by the women; and, by Julia, it was
dreaded. For she knew that the Mexicans
still fought between herself and
her friends; and she felt certain that
should they be driven in, defeated,
they would attempt to make a last stand
in the house, and would again obtain
possession of her person.

So strong did this apprehension grow
up in her mind, as she heard the tide
of fight surging gradually nearer and
nearer, that she overcame, by a mighty
effort, her repugnance to look upon the
deadly strife that was waging close beside
her, and sprang to her feet, calling
Margarita to assist her in opening the
casement, and so escaping into the
garden, where, as yet, all was still and
peaceful.

But the Spanish girl was entranced,
heart and soul,; she was wrapped up
in that dreadful, protracted struggle,
and still fearlessly she pressed up nearer
to the combatants, and Julia could perceive
that she held the keen, two-edged
dagger: which had so short a time before
saved her life, ready in her right
hand, and almost feared that she would
herself strike Valdez. And still she
cried, “Kill him, brother, for my sake!
Kill him! Kill him!”

Hopeless of directing her from her
appalling object, Julia turned, sick at
heart, towards the window; the same
window which had given entrance to
the Partisan, when he arrived but in time
to save Margarita; and at the very moment
she did so, it was driven inward
with a loud crash, and she was clasped
in the arms of Arthur Gordon.

The sound of his forceful entrance,
the clanking steps of his men, for the
three dragoons were at his heels, and
the clatter of his accoutrements had
well nigh proved fatal to Alava; for, at

the sudden uproar in his rear, he turned
his head quickly, and was admonished
by a sharp wound in his side, of his
imprudence.

“Friends! they are friends!” cried
Margarita, whose quick eye instantly
discovered who were the intruders.
“Now kill him! kill him! on they will
take him to their mercy!”

And, like a wounded lion, Juan de
Alava charged him home so fiercely,
that he had not a second's breathing
time. Three triple feints, each followed
by a home lunge, Valdez had
parried in succession; when he lunged
in return. His foot slipped a little on
the marble floor; his blade was struck
aside by Alava's dagger, at the same
instant in which his chest was pierced,
and his heart cleft asunder, by his
home-driven blade.

Then Margarita drew a long, deep
breath, it was almost a sigh, and said,
in a low, lisping tone—

“Else had I slain him, with a woman's
hand and a woman's weapon!”

Scarce was that fearful death-struggle
completed, when two of the dragoons
advanced their carabines, and called
on Juan to yield him on good quarters.
By the fierce eye and resolved aspect of
the young guerilla, it was clear that, had
his means of resistance been equal to
his will, he would have still resisted—
resisted the enemies of his country as
sternly as he had avenged his own private
grievance fiercely; but he had
lost much blood, and staggered sickly;
and would have fallen but for the sword
on which he leaned.

“Where is your officer?” he asked
in Spanish. “I am a gentleman, and
will not yield, but to an officer.”

“I am an officer,” cried Gordon,
springing forward, having learned, by
one word from Julia, who he was—“I
am your friend, too, Senor Don Juan—
your friend for ever.”

“He is her husband!” whispered
Margarita, “whom you have saved and
avenged.”

“Give me your sword, quick! quick!”
cried Arthur Gordon, springing forward
with the speed of light as he saw the
Spanish soldiery driven back into the
room in confusion, before the desperate
charge of McCulloch's rangers. “Give
them one shot, my lads! make sure
each of his man! and then bring off the
wounded officer, and the lady.”

“I can walk! I can walk!” exclaimed
Margarita, who was as self-collected
as a warrior in the fray. “Look you,
senor, to Julia; and let them bring off
Juan.”

The carbines of the regulars, discharged
at a short range and with deliberate
aim, told fatally. Three men
went down, wounded or slain outright;
and seeing the well-known uniforms of
the American dragoons, they fancied
that they were surrounded; and, panic-stricken,
rushed back from three men
to face a hundred.

Turning about, as coolly as if on parade,
two of the men lifted Alava from
the ground to which he had fallen, fainting
from loss of blood, and carried him
off in his own crimson blanket, their
serjeant deliberately halting in the rear
alone to reload his carbine.

Gordon raised Julia in his arms, while
Margarita ran quickly by his side, and
in an instant, they were all in the beautiful
though long neglected garden of
the rancho.

“This way! this way!” she cried.
“I will guide you. There is an arbor
here, in the thicket of oranges, beside
the stream, where they will never find
us, if they search for a twelve-month.”

“Their hands are too full to let them
think of us, lady,” said Gordon. “The
only danger is from stragglers. Ah! true,
it is a secret spot. You will be safe
here with these gallant fellows. So! lay
him down there, softly, softly on the
grass! See, Julia, if you cannot staunch
that bleeding. I'll have a surgeon here
in five minutes. Now, Davis, load your
arms!”

“I am loaded, lieutenant!”

“The devil you are! then let your
fellows load! and do not move hence
for your lives! look to the ladies! I will
return directly. Fear nothing, Julia.
God be with you!”

And he turned on his heel, and was
out of sight in an instant. He had not
taken twenty steps, however, toward
the house, before he met a dozen Mexicans
rushing out from the window by
which his party had escaped; but they
broke as soon as they saw him; scattered
and fled in all directions, most of
them having already thrown away their

weapons. They were scarce out of
sight, when round the left wing of the
building, driving a panic-stricken mass
of fugitives before him, with his horse,
his sword, his own person, dyed with
carnage, the Partisan wheeled at full
gallop.

“Pierre! Pierre! charge, lads! for
Pierre and glory!” and the response
from behind was, “The Alamo! Texas,
remember the Alamo!”

And hard at his heels charged McCulloch
and Gillespie, and all their daring
rangers.

But utterly dispirited and broken, the
Mexicans rushed in a body to the same
window, by which their comrades were
pouring out; and the two currents meeting
jostled and reeled together, like
tides conflicting in a narrow channel.

But the terror and the numbers of
those without were the greater; and
gradually they forced their way inward,
actually using their weapons, one against
the other, in the madness of their despair.
And still on the rear of that confused
and weltering route raged the
fierce broadswords of the Texan riders.

“Ha! Mason,” exclaimed Gordon,
as the rangers swept past him in their
charge, recognizing a young officer of
his acquaintance. “This work is over
now. For God's sake, send one of your
fellows for a surgeon. A friend of mine
lies badly wounded, yonder, in the
orange thicket, by the stream.”

“Aye! aye!” cried he, whom he
addressed, reining up his horse. “You,
Grayson, gallop to the rear, and bring
up surgeon Maxwell.”

“Yes! sir,” answered the man, reluctantly
enough, “when I've had one
more crack at the rascals.”

“No! sirrah! now.”

But his words were anticipated; for
the man had risen in his stirrups and
discharged his rifle with fatal execution;
and now, as he reslung it and saluted,
he replied civilly:

“Now, sir!” and giving his horse
the spur, dashed away to the rear at
the gallop.

“Of course, your lady is safe, Gordon?”

“Or I should not be here! But I
wish you would send a dozen men down
yonder to that thicket, to mount guard
over her. She is almost alone.”

“I'll go myself,” answered Mason.
“Or the devil a soul will I get to stir,
so long as they can shoot or stick a
Mexican! Halt! dress!—halt! halt!
or, by the Lord! I'll scewer some of
you. That is it. Now steady! steady!
Gordon, I'll see to that, never fear. But
I wish you would gallop down, and stop
this firing. All resistance is at an end,
and it is now mere butchery?”

“I will! I will!” replied the young
dragoon, “there has, indeed, been
enough of it.”

And putting his spurs to a charger,
which he caught, as it ran by him masterless,
he gallopped forward, shouting
to the men to cease firing. But eager
as he was, to check the carnage, he was
preceded in the work of charity by the
bold Partisan, whom he could see,
mounted among the crowd of dismounted
rangers, close to the often mentioned
window, actually cutting at his own
men with his broadsword to enforce
obedience, and shouting, till he was
hoarse, in Spanish and English alternately,
“Cease firing, and give quarter!”

Suddenly, a shot flashed from a loop
above, and he reeled in his stirrups, and
fell headlong.

A fierce roar followed from the soldiery;
and, in an instant, they forced
their way bodily into the building, and
wo to the Mexican whom they met, when
the word was given, “Pierre! and no
quarter!”

“My God! they have murdered
him!” cried Gordon; and, forgetful of
all else, he drove madly to the spot
where he lay, sprang from his horse,
and raised him from the bloody green-sward.