Mexican literature -- Translations into English; Mexican prose literature
What a day was that for me. The sun ran its course with desperate
slowness, but finally stood in mid-heaven. The old woman had not yet
returned, nor had Don Mateo made his attack, nor had I news of any one.
I do not understand how I could remain shut up all those hours, without
breaking out and letting myself be killed.
While thus chafing, and more often than ever peeping from the window to
catch a distant glimpse of the old woman, a choked and panting voice, at
my shoulder, cried:
“They are coming.”
It was ‘Uncle Lucas,’ who seemed in that one day to exhaust all his
remaining life’s force. He seated himself on Minga’s bed, with his
mouth open, his chest puffing like a blacksmith’s bellows, his head
nodding in time to his heavy breathing.
In spite of his breathlessness, I made him speak, although his words
were broken by his gasps for air. Don Mateo and his force were
organizing at half a league’s distance. Uncle Lucas had told the Colonel
all that the Sindico[26] had said and had returned with the order to
unite as many men as possible from our quarter of the town, in order to
impede and disconcert Coderas’s force, when it should return to town, as
probably it would only skirmish in the open field. Just as he arrived at
the creek, Uncle Lucas saw five men on horseback, the advance guard of
Coderas, descend from the terrace.
In fact, while he was speaking we heard the noise of horses running
through the street and the clank of swords against the stirrups. Almost
at the same moment the door opened and Minga’s mother burst into the
room, her face pale, her eyes flashing fire.
“A little more and those dogs had had me!” she cried angrily and hurled
forth a tirade which I cannot repeat.
“What is the matter?” I asked, agitated.
“What is it! If it were not for my nephew Matias, who was in the
trenches by the church, they would not have let me go. Cursed wolves.
When Pedro comes I will tell him that they would not let me go and the
foul words they said to me. As I told you, were it not for Matias, I
would still be there in the Plaza.”
“And what did Felicia say?” I interrupted, impatiently.
“The horses are all ready; but Don Abundio told her to tell you to have
no concern; Remedios need not go. But remember, Juanito, this man has no
shame.”
Keeping her to the point, I made her tell me all that could concern us.
Coderas and Soria had agreed upon a plan of defense, believing that Don
Mateo could not take the Plaza in several days; meantime the auxiliaries
from the next district, whose Jefe politico was in communication with
San Martin, could arrive. At the last moment, it had been decided that
Coderas should sally with two hundred men, for a skirmish just outside
the town, falling back upon the hundred, who remained in the Plaza with
Soria; if fortune should prove averse to them, which the intrepid leader
did not believe, they would withdraw to the best entrenchments, in order
to force Don Mateo to attack them there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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