The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the MountainsReid, Mayne
History
The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the Mountains
Reid, Mayne
Mexico -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
I had been told that the usual mode is by a messenger; some one
acquainted with the neutral ground--if there be such--lying between
robber-land and the precincts of the police. This messenger meets an
envoy--deputed by the brigands; the acceptance is honoured; the captives
given up, and permitted to depart without further molestation!
In some cases even a _cheque_ has been taken in exchange; afterwards
presented at the bank by one of the robbers themselves--and _paid_!
Who was to be Don Eusebio's deputy? This was a question that interested
me.
The answer gave me great satisfaction. It was the driver of the
_diligencia_ that had been stopped--known to his passengers by the name
of "Don Samuel Bruno."
When it is said, that the stage-coaches of Mexico are a modern
importation from the United States, I need scarcely add that their
drivers have been imported along with them. They are all, or nearly
all, _States'_ men; and "Don Samuel," despite his _sobriquet_, was not
an exception. He was simply Sam Brown.
Though the intended envoy of Don Eusebio, he had been nominated by the
bandits themselves; no doubt for the reason that he knew where to carry
the cash, and that it could be safely entrusted in his keeping. Any
treachery on his part would put an end to his stage driving--at least,
upon the roads of Mexico--and ten chances to one whether he should
survive to handle the "ribbons" elsewhere.
Sam knew all this, on consenting to become a "go-between;" though it was
scarcely by his own consent: since the office had been assigned to him,
not by request, but command.
It was a fortunate circumstance for me--the very thing I would have
wished for. My chief difficulty--I had seen it from the first--would be
to obtain an _interview_ with the knights of the road. With the
stage-driver as a guide, the difficulty seemed more than half removed.
As good luck would have it, I knew something of Don Samuel. I knew him
to be intelligent--and notwithstanding the ambiguous _role_ he was oft
compelled to play--honest.
I was not long in placing myself _en rapport_ with him. As I had
expected, I found him ready and right willing to "co-operate."
There was at this time much talk of our permanently occupying the
country. In that case he would have nothing to fear for his future; but
in any case he was too gallant to regard consequences where a _senorita_
was concerned.
There was yet another difficulty. Sam's appointment with the robbers
had been made for an early hour of the next morning--the place of
rendezvous a treeless plain lying under the shadow of forest-clad
hills--not far from the noted inn of Cordova.
Alone he might easily meet the _parlamentarios_ of the other party; but
it would be quite a different thing if he should go accompanied by a
score of mounted men.
How was the difficulty to be got over?
I put the question to himself.
The intelligent Yankee soon bethought him of a scheme; and one that
appeared feasible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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