Cuchillo

“ Such a good action in my ripe age would perhaps compensate for the crime of my youth. But, no—no—I spurn the occasion—it is but a slight sacrifice to the cause which I serve.”
As he spoke, his face was turned towards Cuchillo, who was observing him attentively; but the shadow of the trees hindered the outlaw from noting the sombre expression of his countenance.
“The hour is come,” said he, speaking to Cuchillo in a low voice, “when our doubts are to be solved. But remember! your projects of vengeance must remain subordinate to my wishes—now follow me!” ”

“ Had Cuchillo not been preoccupied with his own thoughts and purposes of vengeance, he might have observed on the features of the Spaniard an expression of disdainful raillery, that evidently concerned himself.
“You have sent for me?” said he to Don Estevan.
“You cannot otherwise than approve of my discretion,” began the Spaniard, without making answer. “I have allowed you time enough to sound this young fellow—you know whom I mean. Well! no doubt you have penetrated to the bottom and know all—you, whose perspicacity is only equalled by the tenderness of your conscience?” ”

“ The first who interrogated Cuchillo were the shepherd and Baraja.
“Unless you drew the Indians on to our track, how could they have discovered us?” said the former, with a suspicious look.
“Certainly it was I,” replied Cuchillo, impudently. “I should have liked to have seen you pursued by a hundred, of these demons, and whether you would not, like me, have galloped to the camp to seek an asylum!”
“In such a case,” replied Benito, severely, “a man to save his companions, does not fly, but gives up his life sooner than betray them. ”

“ Thanks to his advance, Cuchillo was invisible; and the darkness would have hidden his track even from the eye of an Indian.
“There is no doubt,” said Pedro Diaz, breaking silence, “that the knave must have profited by the confusion to fly towards the valley, and seize on a part of the treasures which he has sold to us.”
“That is not what I fear most,” said Don Estevan. “If Cuchillo has not exaggerated the riches of the place, there will be plenty left for all of us. ”

“ A piercing cry,—a cry which rose from the abyss—which drowned their voices and was heard above the roar of the cascade, caused Fabian to stretch his head forward and withdraw it again in horror. Hanging to the branches of a shrub which bent beneath his weight, and which scarce adhering to the sides of the rock, was fast giving way, Cuchillo hung over the abyss, howling forth his terror and anguish.
“Help!” he shouted, in a voice despairing as the damned. “Help! if you are human beings—help!” ”

“ By cutting the matter short for you, I have taken the remorse upon myself; and so the affair is ended.”
“The rascal knows what he is about, undoubtedly,” remarked the ex-carabinier.
“Yes,” replied Cuchillo, evidently flattered, “I pride myself upon being no fool, and upon having some notion of the scruples of conscience. I have taken your doubts upon mine. When I take a fancy to people, I sacrifice myself for them. ”

“ Fabian seemed to forget that the bandit had only hastened the execution of the sentence which he himself had pronounced.
“Wretch!” cried he, rushing towards Cuchillo, with the barrel of his carbine in his hand, as though he did not deign to raise its butt against the executioner.
“There, there!” said Cuchillo, drawing back, whilst Pepé, more ready to acquit Don Antonio’s murderer, interposed between them; “you are as quick and passionate as a fighting-cock, and ready every instant to sport your horns, like a young bull. The Indians are too busy elsewhere to trouble themselves about us. ”

“ This was not the only care, however, which then preoccupied Antonio de Mediana; the absence of Cuchillo made him uneasy, and he began to have a suspicion of this man’s perfidy.
Cuchillo had gained considerably upon the Indians who pursued him; but no sooner did he perceive through the hedge the entrenchment raised by his companions than he slackened his pace. The distance at which he still was from the camp was too great to enable him to be perceived by the sentinels; and when he saw the Indians who pursued him halt at sight of the column of smoke, he stopped altogether. ”

“ Have I not understood you to say, Señor Cuchillo, that you were to be the guide of our expedition? Your life is no more your own, then; it belongs to us all, and you have no right to risk it. And you, Señor Baraja! you have not the right to attempt the life of our guide. ”

“ He appeared for a moment as if choosing upon which of his antagonists he would first launch himself.
“You call this being quits!” cried Cuchillo, his breast still heaving from the pressure to Tiburcio’s knee. “Your life belongs to me—I only lent it to you, and I shall now take it back.”
“Come on, dog!” shouted Tiburcio, in answer; “and you too, Don Estevan, you cowardly assassin! you who pay for the murder of defenceless people.”
The countenance of the Spaniard turned livid pale at this unexpected accusation. He instantly drew his dagger, and crying out:—“Down with him, Cuchillo!” ”

“ The excited bearing of the young girl, her bosom heaving under the light tissue of her dress, her reboso floating behind her, mingled with the long dark tresses of her dishevelled hair—all these, added to the proud savage beauty of her countenance—commanded respect; and as if by enchantment, the weapons of the combatants were restored to their sheaths.
Cuchillo growled like a dog newly muzzled, while Don Estevan preserved a sombre silence. Both walked away from the ground, and their forms were soon lost in the darkness. ”

“ He advanced towards Don Antonio.
Pale, but with flashing eyes; uncertain whether in Cuchillo he beheld a saviour or an executioner, Don Estevan did not stir.
“It was foretold that I should die in a desert; I am, what you are pleased to call, convicted and condemned. God has reserved forme the infinite disgrace of dying by the hand of this man. I forgive you, Fabian; but may not this bandit prove as fatal to your life, as he will be to that of your father’s brother, as he was—”
A cry from Cuchillo—a cry of alarm, here interrupted the Duke de Armada.
“To arms! To arms! yonder come the Indians!” ”

“ At this moment the moon shone out, and gleaming upon the carbines and knives of the two adventurers, seemed to confirm the assertion of Cuchillo. But the light proved disadvantageous to Baraja and Oroche, for it enabled Don Estevan to perceive that they were far from steady in their seats.
“Why, these fellows are drunk!” cried he, turning upon the guide a look of furious reproach. “Are these the assistants you count upon?”
“True, your honour,” replied Cuchillo, “they are not exactly sober; but I hope soon to cure them. I know of a remedy that will set them all right in five minutes. ”

“ Diaz was looking earnestly at the plain.
“There!” cried he, “I see a man approaching at full gallop: it is Gayferos or Cuchillo?”
“Pray God it be the latter,” said Don Estevan. “I prefer having him near rather than far from my sight.”
“I think I recognise his grey horse.”
In a minute, indeed, they recognised Cuchillo himself.
“To arms! to arms!” cried the guide, “here are the Indians,” and he rushed precipitately through the opening made for him by the sentinels.
“Cuchillo! the Indians! both names of bad augury,” said Don Estevan, as he turned towards his companion. ”

“ Cuchillo drew himself up proudly, and replied:—
“I know a man who will yield in nothing—neither at following a trail, nor taming a wild horse—to Tiburcio Arellanos; and yet this secret has been almost worthless in his keeping, since he has just sold it for the tenth part of its value!”
This last argument of Cuchillo’s was sufficiently strong to convince Don Estevan that the Golden Valley was so guarded by these fierce Indians that nothing but a strong party could reach it—in short, that he himself was the only man who could set this force afoot. For a while he remained in his silent reverie. ”

“ Who could Tiburcio be in love with in these deserts? The poor devil is likely to think more of a good horse than a pretty girl.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the Spaniard, with a mocking laugh that sent a shivering through the frame of Cuchillo. “Well, well! friend Cuchillo, your youth promised better than this. If your conscience is as callous as your perspicacity is obtuse—which God forbid—it is not likely to interfere with your sleep.” ”

“ The old hunter alone glanced towards Fabian, as though to ask what motive this man, with his impudent and sinister manner, and his beard covered with greenish mud, could offer for thus intruding himself upon them.
“It is Cuchillo,” said Fabian, answering Bois-Rose’s look.
“Cuchillo, your unworthy servant,” continued the bandit, “who has been a witness to your prowess, most worthy hunter of tigers. Decidedly,” thought Cuchillo, “my presence, is not so obnoxious to them as I should have supposed.” ”

“ Don Estevan paused, to let his words have their full effect. It was his design to crush by his superiority the man whose fidelity he had a thousand reasons to suspect.
“Tiburcio,” continued he, “is of a race—or appears to be of a race—that unites intelligence with courage; and you are his mortal enemy. Do you begin to understand me?”
“No,” said Cuchillo.
“Well, you will presently, after a few simple questions which I intend to ask you. The first is:—In your expedition with Arellanos, had you not a horse that stumbled in the left leg?”
“Eh!” ejaculated Cuchillo, turning pale. ”

“ Far off in the forest, could be heard at intervals the crackling of branches under the burning rays of the sun—just as if the woods were on fire. But the trees were beginning to open their leaves to the southern breeze that freshened as the hours passed on, and they appeared impatiently to await the twilight, when the night-dews would once more freshen their foliage.
Cuchillo gave a whistle, at which well-known signal his horse came galloping up to him. The poor beast appeared to suffer terribly from the thirst. ”

“ As Cuchillo spoke, his countenance betrayed beyond doubt the anguish he felt, at his cupidity having been balked.
Arechiza knew too well how to read the human physiognomy to doubt the truth of Cuchillo’s report. Two hundred dollars were to him a mere bagatelle; and taking an ebony case from his bed, small but heavy, he drew from it a rouleau of gold pieces and handed them to the gambusino, who immediately put them in his pocket. ”

“ Señor Baraja, good!” exclaimed Cuchillo, evidently pleased with the communication just made, “and if the business which I have with Don Estevan be satisfactorily concluded—which I am in hopes it will be—you are likely to have me for a comrade in this distant expedition. But,” continued he, suddenly changing the subject, “you will, no doubt, be astonished that I have given Don Estevan a rendezvous in such a singular place as this?”
“No,” coolly replied Baraja, “you may have reasons for being partial to solitude. Who does not love it at times?” ”

“ The sun shone out, and, glancing down from the Golden Valley, discovered Cuchillo, greedily bending over his treasures, and the three hunters holding council amongst themselves respecting him.
Fabian had listened in silence to Bois-Rose’s advice, as well as that given by Diaz previous to his departure; and he only waited the counsel of the old carabinier.
“You have taken,” said the latter, in his turn, “a vow, from which nothing ought to release you; the wife of Arellanos received it from you on her death-bed; you have her husband’s murderer in your power; there is nothing here to deny it.” ”

“ For El Cuchillo and the chosen companions of his year, life took a new and agreeable form when the first test had been withstood. They were kept by themselves in the lowest and richest meadows, where the grass came to their flanks and the water never failed. In the evening the tame bullocks that carried cow-bells round their necks came to fetch them home, and when they reached their stalls there was always a measure of fine corn for supper. So they increased in strength and natural ferocity until only Miguel dared face them, and he relied chiefly upon his old reputation. ”

“ Diaz remained silent keeping himself out of this mysterious compromise. After a little, he rose from his seat, and under some pretext left the chamber.
“Well, then, gentlemen,” said Cuchillo, addressing himself to his two more facile comrades, “you are fully of the opinion that the man should be got rid of? Let me tell you, then, that this man is no other than Tiburcio Arellanos.” ”

“ As for Cuchillo, if he attempt to play the traitor with me a second time, I shall take care to be a little more prompt in punishing him.
“The product of this expedition,” pursued the Spaniard,—“of which, as leader, I shall be entitled to a fifth part—will be added to the resources I have already. The men who compose it will be easily converted into devoted partisans of our design; and should it happen that the forces I expect from Europe should fail to come to hand in due time, these adventurers will serve a good purpose. ”

“ The success of our expedition depends upon the life of this ragged fellow. Go! arouse Benito and the others. Tell them to saddle the horses. Warn your friends in the chamber that we must be en route in an hour. Away! while I awake Don Augustin and the Senator.”
“Just as I have known him for twenty years,” muttered Cuchillo, as he hastened to his companions, “always awake, always ready for the greatest obstacles. Well, if with his character he has not made way in his own country, I fear that in Europe perseverance and energy are not worth much.” ”