Chapter Thirty Eight. The Report of the Pursuer
With unappeased impatience the Dictator awaited the return of the pursuing party, or some news of it. The last he in time received at first hand from the lips of its leader, who, after nightfall, had hastened back to the city and reported himself at the Palace.
“You have taken them?” interrogated Santa Anna, as the Hussar officer, no longer in a glitter of gold lace, but dim with sweat and dust, was ushered into his presence.
He put the question doubtingly; indeed, from the expression of Santander’s face, almost sure of receiving a negative answer. Negative it was —
“Not yet, Sire; I regret to say they are still at large.”
The rejoinder was preceded by a string of exclamatory phrases, ill becoming the Chief of the State. But Santa Anna, being a soldier, claimed a soldier’s privilege of swearing, and among his familiars was accustomed to it as any common trooper. After venting a strong ebullition of oaths, he calmed down a little, saying —
“Give me a full account of what you’ve seen and done.”
This was rendered in detail, from the time of the pursuit being entered upon till it had ended abortively, by the coming on of night.
Chancing to be in the Maza, the Colonel said, when word reached him of what had occurred in the Callé de Plateros, he made all haste to pursue with a squadron of Hussars. Why he took so many, was that he might be able to send a force along every road, in case it should be necessary.
He found the escapados had gone out by El Nino Perdido, the sergeant on guard there allowing them to go past.
“See that he be put under arrest!”
“He’s under arrest now, your Excellency. I had that done as I was returning.”
“Proceed with your relation!”
Which Santander did, telling how he had followed the fugitive party along the San Angel Road, and there met a troop of Lancers from Chapultepec. Some field-labourers had seen a carriage turn off towards Coyoacan; and taking that route he soon after came up with it. It was stopped on the roadside: empty, horses gone, the harness strewed over the ground hacked and cut; the cochero strapped to one of the wheels, and gagged with the handle of his whip!
When the man was released he could tell nothing more than that the four had mounted his horses, a pair upon each, and galloped off across the country, on a sort of bridle path, as if making for the San Antonio Road.
Turning in that direction, Santander soon discovered that they had entered into a tract of chapparal; and while this was being searched for them, the unharnessed horses were observed rushing to and fro in frenzied gallop, riderless of course. When caught, it was seen why they were now excited, one of them having its ear slit, the blood still dropping from the wound.
The chapparal was quartered in every direction; but he soon came to the conclusion it was no use searching for them there.
“Carramba!” interrupted his listener; “of course not I know the place well. And if you, Señor Colonel, were as well acquainted with that chapparal, and what lies alongside it, as one of those you were after, you’d have dropped the search sooner. You needn’t tell me more; I can guess the finish; they got off into the Pedregal.”
“So it would seem, your Excellency.”
“Seem! So it is, por cierto. And looking for them there would be so much lost time. Around your native city, New Orleans, there are swamps where the runaway slave manages to hide himself. He’d have a better chance of concealment here, among rocks, in that same quarter you’ve just come from. It’s a very labyrinth. But what did you afterwards? You may as well complete your narrative.”
“There is not much more to tell, Sire; for little more could we do. The darkness came on, as we discovered they had taken to the rocks.”
“You did discover that?”
“Yes, your Excellency. We found the place where they had gone up over a sort of cliff. There were scratches made by their feet, with a branch broken off one of the cactus plants; some of the sewer mud, too, was on the rock. But there was no path, and I saw it would be useless carrying the pursuit any further till we should have the light of morning. I’ve taken every precaution, however, to prevent their getting out of the Pedregal.”
“What precautions?”
“By completely enfilading it, Sire. I sent the Lancers round by San Geromino and Contreras; the Hussars to go in the opposite direction by San Augustin. They have orders to drop a picket at every path that leads from it, till they meet on the other side.”
“Well, Señor Colonel, your strategy is good. I don’t see that you could have done better under the circumstances. But it’s doubtful whether we shall be able to trap our foxes in the Pedregal. One of them knows its paths too well to let night or darkness hinder his travelling along them. He’ll be through it before your pickets can get to their stations. Yes; and off to a hiding-place he has elsewhere – a safer one – somewhere in the Sierras. Confound those Sierras with their caverns and forests. They’re full of my enemies, rebels, and robbers. But I’ll have them rooted out, hanged, shot, till I clear the country of disaffection. Carajo! I shall be master of Mexico, not only in name, but deeds. Emperor in reality!”
Excited by the thought of unrestrained rule and dreams of vengeance – sweet to the despot as blood to the tiger – he sprang out of his chair, and paced to and fro, gesticulating in a violent manner.
“Yes, Señor Colonel!” he continued in tone satisfied as triumphant. “Other matters have hindered me from looking after these skulking proscripts. But our victory over the Tejanos has given me the power now, and I intend using it. These men must be recaptured at all cost – if it take my whole army to do it. To you, Don Carlos Santander, I entrust the task – its whole management. You have my authority to requisition troops, and spend whatever money may be needed to ensure success. And,” he added, stepping close to his subordinate, and speaking in a confidential way, “if you can bring me back Ruperto Rivas, or his head so that I can recognise it, I shall thank you not as Colonel, but as General Santander.”
The expression upon his face as he said this was truly Satanic. Equally so that on his to whom the horrid hint was given. Alike cruel in their instincts, with aims closely corresponding, it would be strange if the fugitive prisoners were not retaken.