University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
THE DOUBLE TRAITOR.

There was no need of discussion or
debate, so evidently correct was the
plan of the Partisan; nor, had his views
been much more questionable than they
were, is it at all probable that any opposition
would have been made, so completely
had he gained the confidence of
the whole party, by his promptitude, his
gallantry, and his extraordinary coolness
in danger.

The heads of all the horses, therefore,
were turned westward, and away they
rode at as rapid a rate as the nature of
the ground—which was in places very
deep and swampy, and at others very
much encumbered with brakes of thorny
underwood—permitted.

In the present order of the march, the
most danger being anticipated from the
rear, the oldest and most intelligent of
the dragoons was detached to a hundred
yards in front, followed by the three
others; two leading the pack mules, and
the third having charge of the prisoner,
about whose neck one end of the lasso
was still secured, while the other was
made fast to the pummel of the soldier's
saddle. This man rode with his carabine
unslung, the butt resting on his
right thigh, cocked, and in readiness for
instant service, his orders being peremptory,
to shoot the prisoner through
the head on his giving the slightest indication
of any desire to escape, or to
raise an alarm.

After these, Gordon and his fair bride
rode together, conversing at times in a
low voice, but yet oftener keeping silence,
so much were the hearts of both
oppressed by the singular difficulty, if

not peril, of their situation. Indeed, it
is probable that, had not each desired to
deceive the other as to their state of
mental disquietude, neither would have
spoken at all; but the husband, anxious
to support the spirits, and if possible alleviate
the apprehensions of the fair being
whom he almost reproached himself
for having brought thus into the howling
wilderness, exerted himself to the utmost
to appear confident and even cheerful;
while the lady, no less solicitous to
conceal what natural tremors her sex
could not cast entirely aside, displayed
the most wonderful self-possession, added
to the liveliest flow of spirits, and the
highest courage that ever graced a fair
and gentle woman.

In the rear of all rode the Partisan,
alone, at nearly a hundred yards' distance
from the little group which preceded
him; and he alone of the whole
party seemed perfect!y cool and unconcerned,
although, in truth, there was
not one among them who so fully envisaged
the circumstances of their position,
and saw so clearly the whole extent
of their danger.

Had he been alone, he would have
undertaken the whole risk, without hope
either of fame or guerdon, for the mere
fun of out witting and circumventing the
Mexican troopers; but, encumbered in
his movements by the disciplined regulars—for
whom, like all frontiersmen,
he entertained a profound contempt—
and impeded by the presence of a delicate
and tender female, he almost despaired
of making good his way through
the wilderness to head-quarters.

As they galloped onward, however,
through the belt of timber which bordered
the western as well as the eastern
marge of the Bravo del Norte, time
slipped away, and brought no sounds of
pursuit from the rear. An hour had
passed since they crossed the river, and
the forest, breaking away into scattered
clumps and single trees, suffered the
eye to roam, at intervals, beyond its
tufted thickets and green alleys, over
the broad expanse of the boundless prairie,
which lay outstretched for countless
miles before them, now laughing gaily
in the fresh morning sunshine.

Just as they were approaching so
nearly to the margin of the open ground,
that the dragoon, who acted as vidette,
was looking round for orders, Pierre uttered
a shrill, long-drawn whistle, which
was the preconcerted signal for a halt;
and, after the rest of the party had pull
ed up their horses, galloped forward
himself till he reached the extreme
verge of the covert, where, without
speaking a single word, he dismounted,
fastened his charger to a tree, and advanced
stealthily into the open prairie.

After being absent about twenty minutes,
during which the remainder of
his party had lost sight of him altogether,
he returned with a thoughtful expression
on his strongly-marked features,
and walked through the little
group of dragoons and pack mules, passing
within a yard of the prisoner, until
he reached Gordon and his fair bride,
who sat on their panting horses, eagerly
awaiting his approach.

“Have you heard anything,” he asked,
quietly, “from the forest in our
rear?”

“Not a sound,” replied the young
officer, “not so much even as the chirrup
of a bird, or the rustle of a deer
among the leaves.”

“Ah! you have not a woodsman's
ear,” answered the Partisan, who had
been listening eagerly even while he was
speaking. “There are deer, if not
elk, within four hundred yards of us
now, and they are in confusion, too;
but as we are to windward of them,
and there is a brisk breeze from the
northward, it may be they have caught
our taint upon the air. If not, those accursed
lancers have doubled on their
track, and crossed the river on us.”

With these words, he knelt as he had
done on the previous night, and again
laying his ear to the ground, listened,
holding his breath the while, to the faint
sounds which had reached his ears
alone.

In a minute he arose with a countenance
less perturbed than before, and
said, nodding his head in approbation:

“Ay, so far all is well; they have
gone southward. It is we who alarmed
them, and that course is clear for the
present. Now listen to me, lieutenant,
and give me your advice, for if I know
better than you how to keep our line of
route, and avoid the enemy, you know
the best how much this dear lady can
endure.”

“Speak out, Partisan,” answered the
young husband. “I will deal frankly
with you, and I pray you to do so with
us.”

“I shall,” answered Pierre, hastily.
“Mark me. There is not a human
being in sight on the prairie, and I have
swept it, I am sure, twelve times in
every direction Those fellows who
started us this morning, are, I think, so
far in our rear, that unless by a miracle
they turn and fall upon our trail, they
will hardly trouble us.”

“Then why not ride straight forward
on our course, and so put a yet larger
space between us.”

“I said that there was no human being
in sight, but there are three smokes,
one hereaway, some six miles to the
southward; but I do not care much for
that, seeing that it is out of our line altogether,
and that it seems to me it is
from an old night fire that has burned
low. Then there is one more right
ahead of us, directly in our course. It
was burning strong, too, with new wood,
by the thickness of the wreaths. It is
some four miles off, but I could see
neither men nor horses, for the fire is
kindled behind a roll of the prairie.—
But there they are cooking their tortillas,
sure enough. Again, there is a
great smoke as of many fires altogether,
away here, more than ten miles off, I
think, to the northward. So that you
see we are in a net, as it were,
among their outlying parties. The
great smoke to the north, is, I fancy,
the camp or headquarters, or what you
will, of Carrera's horse. Those lancers
that came so near us in our bivouac,
are one of their reconnoitring
parties; and these two smokes are two
more. They are all on the look-out for
me. The scoundrels, from the fire that
has burned low, must have breakfasted
already, and ridden northward to join
the squad on the other side the river, by
the fords above Laredo—we had seen
them else. Now as none of these have
seen us, or fallen on our trail, it is likely
they will make a sweep southwards
toward the Nueces, and so we may
reckon on seeing no more of them.”

“You calculate chances closely,”
said Gordon, who had listened with
equal surprise and admiration to the intricate
deductions drawn by the Parti
san from indications which appeared to
him so trivial.

“I must calculate closely to save you
from lance and lasso. Carrera takes
no prisoners!” answered Pierre, coolly.
“Now there are three plans of which
we must choose one, and then act on it
for life or death. We must work twenty
miles due north up this forest land,
and so get above all their posts—which
were the safest plan of all, if it would
not carry us so far out of our route, and
bring us far too soon into the settled
country, quite out of the line of our communications;—or
we must strike due
southward for that extinguished fire,
and so strive to make our way down to
our posts at Mier and Camargo, which
would do well enough did not the whole of
that country swarm with guerilleros;-or,
again, we must drive right onward, and
take the chance of falling on the party at
the little fire unawares, and finding them
so few that we can master them. If we
succeed in doing so, we have the best
chance so of reaching Monterey in safety.
For, once through these frontier
parties, we shall, it is likely, find the
country clear until we reach our outposts.”

“The risk of the three, then, is nearly
equal,” said Gordon, musing deeply.

“The immediate risk of the last is
the greatest; the ultimate risk the least!
but in truth it is a chance anyhow.”

“Which would you choose were you
alone?”

“I would lie by till, night, and then
pass the centre picket. But we cannot
do so. We are too strong in numbers to
lie perdu.”

“Which do you recommend?”

“If your sweet lady have nerve to
look on bloodshed, and, if need be, to
ride for her life afterward—the third.”

“Then the third be it,” replied Julia,
cheerfully. “I take the choice upon
myself. I am a soldier's daughter, and
the wife of a soldier, and nerve I must
have, and will.”

“Brave heart!” muttered the Partisan,
gazing on her admiringly. “Brave
heart! you shall be saved.”

Then he advanced again upon the
prairie, gazed forth a second time, and,
finding that everything he saw went to
confirm his first impression, returned to
the dragoons, and ordered them quietly

to dismount and breakfast on whatever
cooked provisions they had with them,
neither lighting any fire nor unsaddling
their chargers. This done, he rejoined
Gordon and his bride, and, sitting down
with them upon the mossy greensward,
in the middle of the horses, produced his
slender store, and exhorted them to eat,
and ate himself, as tranquilly conversing
all the while about indifferent matters, as
if there had been no danger within fifty
miles of them.

Courage and coolness, like cowardice,
are infectious; and Gordon, who, as a
brave man and a soldier, feared nothing
for himself, whatever he might do for the
fair partner of his perils, soon caught
the contagion of the Partisan's manner;
and Julia, by nature, gay and mirthful,
soon forgot all but the present moment.
In short, that morning meal snatched in
the midst of warlike preparation, and almost
within arm's length of mereiless,
unsparing enemies, was enjoyed with a
zest such as is given only by novelty
and excitement.

Many minutes had not passed, however,
before Pierre arose from his seat,
bidding his young companions eat heartily,
for it was hard to say when they
might have the time to eat again—announced
that he was going to cross examine
the prisoner, and walked coolly
away toward the group of dragoons.

Not one of these men understood a
word of Spanish, and Gordon and his
wife were too far off to distinguish anything
that was said. It was clear, however,
by the gesticulation of the Partisan,
by the frequent laying of his right
hand on the hilt of his knife, and by the
motion of his left toward the different
fires which he had enumerated, that
he was questioning him, not without
threats of instant death, as to the numbers
and position of the enemy.

It was not long before he came back
to Gordon, and desiring him to help the
lady to mount, replaced his slender bag
gage on the back of the good horse
Emperor, and then without setting a
foot in the stirrup, laid his hand lightly
on the pummel and vaulted into the
saddle.

Still he paused before giving the
word to advance, and looked hesitatingly
toward Julia, who sat mouthing her
thorough-bred palfry lightly with the
curb, perfectly self-possessed, and easy
in her manner and expression.

“If I could only trust that dog,” he
said at length. “But as they say quien
sabe? He tells me that, as I suspect,
Carrera is up yonder with thirteen hundred
horse. That there are two hundred
in the squad we saw this morning.
That fifty bivouacked down yonder to
the south, and are gone off to join the
rest; and that the party right ahead is
but a night scout, of six men, under
orders to lie by all day, and patrole the
ground, between the posts, by night—
If it be so, and we can get upon them
unperceived, it will be easy work; but
not a man or a horse must escape. So
bid your dragoons, when they fire, aim
at the cattle altogether, and, when they
charge, ride down the horses, or hamstring
them with their swords.”

“Do you believe him?” enquired
Gordon anxiously. “He may be leading
us into an ambuscade.”

“Hardly, I think,” replied the Partisan.
“In the first place, he knows
me, and I have promised him sure
death if there be one man more than he
has named, and two ounces at night if
we get clear through them. The fellow
is in mortal terror, for I never pass
by him but he starts, as though he felt
my knife in his gizzard. But come, we
have no time to lose, let us be moving.”

And, without waiting for any further
orders they did move, and, leaving the
friendly covert of the forest, rode out into
the open prairie, which stretched away
into ridgy waves, like an unbroken sea,
for leagues and leagues on every side of
them. Not a tree or bush diversified
the interminable range, or afforded a
spot on which the eye could rest, or by
which it could measure distance. Everywhere,
the long deep-green grass—
for the land on that side of the Bravo is
moister and less sterile—waved and
twinkled, as it rose and fell, before the
fresh breath of the northern breeze,
gemmed with ten thousand flowers of
every various hue.

Far to the northward lay the smokes,
not now a single column, but a long
line of separate jets streaming away
before the wind toward our company,
which indicated the position of the main
force of Carrera.

These, as he now surveyed them from

his horse's back, Pierre pronounced to
be more distant than he had deemed at
first; asserting that full fifteen miles
were interposed between themselves and
the enemy, in that quarter. To the
southward the fire which he had discovered
had burned quite out, and no trace
of it was to be discovered; this fact
confirming the report of the prisoner,
and his own preconceived opinion.

Before them, however, nearer and
more distinct at every stride of their
horses, rose that round which, if the
Mexican spoke truly, the party to be
met with and disposed of slept unconscious.

Mile after mile vanished beneath the
feet of their horses, as they pressed onward
steadily and swiftly; Pierre once
again in the van, leading them on, rifle
unslung and ready, at Emperor's fast
slashing trot.

Now they were within a mile or less
of the ridgy brow, steeper and more
abrupt than any which they had yet
passed, from the other side of which the
smoke rose in gray volumes, having
been fed with recent fuel. Here, then,
Pierre halted, and caused the pack
mules to be securely tethered to stakes
driven deep into the moist earth of the
prairie bottom, together with the horse
of the Mexican.

The prisoner—after being once more
interrogated, and persisting in his tale
that there were but six men; that there
was a large stream at the base of the descent;
and that the fire was on this side of
the stream—was dismounted, gagged,
bound hand and foot, and laid on his
back upon the grass.

This done, Gordon arranged his handful
of men, himself leading on the right,
while Pierre rode forward some six
horse-lengths in advance, and Julia,
who had refused positively to remain
behind with the pack mules, followed a
length or two behind. All that she
could be prevailed upon to cede was
that she would halt on this side the
brow of the hill, when the charge was
to be made which was to decide their
fate. No man could be spared from
their little force to guard her, therefore,
reluctantly they were compelled to
yield to her will.

Thus they advanced, now at a foot's
pace, picking their ground where the
soil was softest and the prairie grass
longest, that so the sound of their horses'
feet might be deadened—with their reins
well in hand, their broadswords loosened
in their scabbards, and their forefingers
on the triggers of their carbines.

Now they were within twenty paces
of the extreme brow of the ridge, which
alone separated them from their enemy
—three paces more would have brought
their heads into relief against the sky
above the summit of the hill, and discovered
them to the sentinel, if there
were one, on duty.

At this moment Pierre pulled his
horse short up, dismounted silently, and
with a gesture to the well-trained and
gallant animal, which it was evident he
understood—for he stood stock still on the
instant, with ear erect, expanded nostril,
straining eye, quivering in every limb,
with fiery eagerness—cast himself down,
rifle in hand, among the shorter herbage,
which clothed the steep ascent.

Up this he wormed his way, like a
snake painfully and slowly, keeping
his head so low, and his body compressed
so closely to the ground, that at a hundred
yards' distance he was entirely
concealed from the keenest eyesight.

Words cannot describe the agony or
excitement, which made the hearts
of the brave hardy men—much more of
the lovely woman—who looked on,
mute and inactive spectators of that first
attack, throb in their bosoms, and swell
upward to their very throats with a fast
sickening motion.

He gained the verge, and stretched
his neck forth for an instant to look over
it. But in the same point of time, he
couched yet more closely to the earth;
and they might see his right hand cautiously
draw the trailed rifle forward.

Again his head was thrust forward—
he rose half to his knee, and raised the
heavy yager, as if it had been a feather,
to his shoulder. It was not a second
that the piece remained motionless, before
its contents, were sent forth, with a
bright glaring stream, and a quick sharp
crack, from the muzzle; but it seemed
to all the spectators as if minutes had
elapsed, between the levelling and the
discharge of the weapon.

No sound followed that crack—no
groan—no cry of anguish—it was indeed
a death-shot!—until the heavy

trampling of the dragoon horses thundered
on the ears of the astonished Mexicans,
aroused from their secure slumbers
to desperate and fruitless combat.

Swiftly, however, as the dragoons
passed up the hill, more swiftly yet did
the well-trained charger of the Partisan
dash, instantly as he beheld the rifle's
flash, into his fleetest gallop. One second
brought him to his master's side,
another second set that master in the
saddle, and ere a third elapsed, he had
crossed the brow of the ridge in advance
of the dragoons, and, with his long
straight broadsword flashing above his
head, was sweeping unsupported, as it
seemed, down on the enemy.

There were as the prisoner had stated,
six men only; two of whom were
awake, the one a sentinel stalking to
and fro with his escopeta in his hand,
the other a non-commissioned officer,
who sat smoking his cigarillo by the
fire, over which a camp kettle filled
with some savory mess was simmering

The death-shot, which sped its bullet
crashing through the brain of the
hapless sentinel, aroused them all, and
brought them to their feet, amazed and
terrified, and unprepared for action.
All stood astounded and breathless—all
save the sergeant, who, being apparently
a quick-witted veteran soldier, as he
was evidently a powerful and vigorous
man, rushed to the horses so soon as he
heard the sound of the coming charge,
untethered his own charger, sprang to
its back, and forced it through a deep
and miry ford of the rivulet, even before
his men had got hold of their weapons
much less thought of their horses.

Meantime, the dragoons crossed the
ridge and poured down all abreast, receiving
as they came, a straggling volley
from the escopetas of the lancers,
who, seeing that flight was hopeless,
stood to their arms like men, and made
a desperate defence. Not a single ball
took effect, however; for so fierce and
rapid was the charge of the dragoons,
down the abrupt hill-side, that the dismounted
Mexicans over-shot them, and
were in their turn all sabred or shot
down, before they had time to draw a
sword, much less to re-load their firelocks.

While this was passing, however, the
Partisan—who saw at a glance what must
be the fate of those opposed to the charge
of Gordon's troopers, and that the only
thing to be apprehended was the escape
of the sergeant—drove Emperor at full
speed down the hill, to the right hand of
the fire, and rode him straight at the
yawning chasm of the rivulet.

Not for a second did the bold beast
pause or hesitate, but, with his long
thin mane and full tail floating out in
the strong breeze, with wide-opened
eye and blood-red nostril, swept over it
with one grand stroke, landed firm as a
rock on the farther margin, and drove
on without altering his pace, or swerving
from his direct line.

Then came a desperate race, for life
or death, across the firm dry prairie,
which echoed under the thundering
horse-tramps firm, solid, and elastic.

The Mexican had perhaps gained a
start of some fifty yards before his foe
was across the brook, and his small but
high-bred horse, being the fresher of the
two, held his own for a little way, and
even widened the gap at first, between
himself and his pursuer. Erelong,
however, the tremendous stride and
power of the Anglo American thorough-bred
horse began to tell; and, at every
stroke, the Partisan closed on him. Nor
was the other slow to perceive the disadvantage.
He stood up in his stirrups,
looked quietly behind him, and,
seeing that none of the dragoons had
passed the brook, but had dismounted
and were now grouped about the fire,
deliberately pulled his horse up, and,
unslinging his escopeta, took a deliberate
aim at Pierre Delacroix.

He fired. The ball whizzed through
the air, so close to the head of the Partisan,
that it severed one of his long, dark
locks; but it passed onward harmless.
Then, seeing the failure of his missile,
the Mexican couched his long lance,
and rode at the frontiersman with a savage
yell.

Silently Pierre charged right upon
him; but, when he was within half a
horse's length of the spear's point, he
wheeled sudden to the left, and, as the
Mexican was borne past him, delivered
a straight lounge, en carte, which emptied
his saddle in an instant, and left him
but a minute's life to wrestle out on the
greensward.

But the Partisan had no time to give

to mercy, or to bestow on the dying man.
It was necessary to secure his charger,
lost it should bear the tidings of defeat to
his countrymen; and, when that was
done, and he repassed the spot where the
man had fallen, the last strife was over,
and the features—all grim and ghastly,
and set fast in death—told that all mortal
aid was bootless.

Loud went the shout, up to the skies,
from the little squad of regulars, as they
beheld the issue—though they expected
nothing else—of that single combat; and
warm and grateful were the greetings of
Arthur Gordon, as he rode out alone to
meet him in whom all their hopes were
centered.

That short but bloody conflict ended,
there was nought to detain them any
longer there. The lady was led forward
in a direction which kept her clear of
the fallen corpses, and the bloody ground
on which they lay; while the dragoons
brought up the prisoner and the mules
from the rear.

Meanwhile, the Partisan directed the
horses of the slaughtered Mexicans to be
securely tethered, since they were useless
to their captors, and supplied with
abundant forage, easily gathered from
the rich bottom. This executed, he
caused the bodies of the slain to be composed,
as if they were asleep around the
watchfire, with their arms stacked beside
them. He heaped fresh fuel on the
blaze, enough to last for several hours;
and then, looking over the ground carefully
before he mounted, was satisfied
that, even if the Mexican horse should
pass within a short distance, they would
suspect nothing wrong, unless accident
should lead them to a close inspection of
the post.

Then he rode away to join Gordon
and the lady; but, ere he did so, he met
the prisoner in charge of the two soldiers
who had brought up the mules, and the
fellow, looking at him half askance,
asked him in Spanish, with a sullen and
almost savage intonation, whether he had
not told him truly.

Pierre replied only by two words—
“Very truly.” But he noted the accent
and half sneering smile; and the first
words he spoke as he joined the lieutenant,
were—“D—n that scoundrel! I
have half a mind to reward him with one
ounce of lead instead of two of gold.”

“That were scarce worthy of you,
Partisan,” said Gordon, “and scarce
worth the time. What harm can one
poor devil like that do to six stout, well-armed
fellows, such as we?”

“I do not know,” answered Pierre—
“I do not know; but right sure I am,
that he is a double traitor.”