The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

The stars were already expiring in the heavens, the atmosphere was growing refreshed, the horizon was striped by long mother-o'-pearl coloured bands, a light sea breeze brought up to the travellers its alkaline odours, and the night had passed. Suddenly, at the moment when the three riders were about to emerge from a thick wood, in which they had been following a track made by the wild cattle for nearly an hour, the Major-domo, who was a few yards ahead, pulled up his horse and leant back.

"Stop, in Heaven's name!" he exclaimed, in a low voice.

The young couple obeyed, though they did not comprehend this order.

The Major-domo went up to them.

"Look!" he muttered, and stretched out his arm toward the savannah.

A rapid gallop, that drew nearer every second, but which the noise of their own march had prevented them from hearing, now smote their ears, and almost at the same moment they saw through the screen of foliage which hid them from sight, several horsemen pass as if borne along by a hurricane.

A branch struck off the hat of one of the riders as he passed.

"Don Stenio!" Doña Clara exclaimed in horror.

"Zounds!" Don Sancho said, "We were just in time."

CHAPTER XXIX

EVENTS ACCUMULATE

The horsemen had continued their wild course without perceiving the fugitives: one of them, indeed, at the cry uttered by Doña Clara, had made a gesture as if to stop his steed, but doubtless supposing that he had been mistaken, he followed his companions after a moment's hesitation, which was very fortunate for him, as Don Sancho had already drawn a pistol, with the resolution of blowing out his brains.

For some minutes the fugitives remained motionless, anxiously listening to the galloping of the horses, whose sound rapidly retired, and was soon lost in the distance, when it became confounded with the other noises of the night.

Then they breathed again, and Don Sancho put back in his holster the pistol which he had held in his hand up to this moment.

"Hum!" he muttered; "Only the thickness of a bush saved us from being discovered."

"Heaven be thanked!" Doña Clara said; "We are saved!"

"That is to say, my little sister, we are not caught," the young man replied, incapable of maintaining his seriousness for five minutes, however grave circumstances might be.

"They are going at a tremendous pace," the Major-domo now remarked; "we have nothing more to fear from them."

"In that case, let us be off," Don Sancho replied.

"Yes, yes, let us go," Doña Clara murmured.

They dashed out of the thicket which had offered them so sure a protection, and entered the plain.

The sky became lighter every moment; and although the sun was still beneath the horizon, its influence was beginning to be felt. Nature appeared to shake off her nocturnal sleep; some birds were already awake under the soft leaves, and preluding, by soft twittering, their matin chant; the dark outlines of savage animals bounded through the tall dew-laden grass; and the birds of prey, expanding their mighty wings, rose high in æther, as if they wished to go and meet the sun, and salute its advent: in a word, it was no longer night, without being fully day.

"Ah! What I do see at the foot of that mound?" Don Sancho suddenly said.

"Where?" Birbomono asked.

"There, straight in front of us."

The Major-domo placed his hands over his eyes, and looked attentively.

"¡Viva Dios!" he exclaimed, at the end of a moment, "It is a man!"

"A man?"

"On my word, yes, Excellency; and, as far as I can distinguish at this distance, a Carib savage."

"Zounds! What is he doing on that mound?"

"We shall be able to assure ourselves of that more easily directly, unless he thinks proper to keep out of our way."

"Well, let us go to him, in Heaven's name."

"Brother," Doña Clara objected, "what is the use of lengthening our journey, when we are so hurried?"

"That is true," the young man said.

"Reassure yourself, señora," the Major-domo observed; "that hillock is exactly on the road we must follow, and we cannot help passing it."

Doña Clara said no more, and the trio set out again.

They soon reached the mound, which they ascended at a gallop.

The Carib had not quitted the spot, but the riders stopped in stupor on perceiving that he was not alone.

The Indian, kneeling on the ground, appearing to be attending to a man stretched out before him, and who was beginning to regain his senses.

"Fray Arsenio!" Doña Clara exclaimed at the sight of this man. "Great Heavens! He is dead!"

"No," the Indian answered in a gentle voice, as he turned to her, "but he has been most horribly tortured."

"He! Tortured?" his hearers exclaimed, unanimously.

"Look at his hands," the Carib continued.

The Spaniards uttered a cry of horror and pity at the sight of the poor monk's bleeding and swollen thumbs.

"Oh, it is frightful!" they murmured, sadly.

"Wretch," Don Sancho said in his indignation, "you have brought him to this state!"

The Carib shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.

"The paleface is mad!" he replied; "My brothers do not torture the chiefs of prayer – they respect them. White men, like himself, have inflicted this atrocious punishment upon him."

"Explain yourself, in Heaven's name," Doña Clara continued; "how is it that we find this worthy monk here in such a pitiable state?"

"It will be better to let him explain himself when he has regained his senses. Omopoua knows but little."