The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan WarAimard, Gustave
History
The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War
Aimard, Gustave
Texas -- History -- To 1846 -- Fiction; Western stories
"Have I not told you that it related to millions?"
"You did, but you did not prove it."
"And you wish me to give you that proof?"
"Nothing else."
"That is rather difficult."
"No, it is not."
"How so?"
"Hang it, I am a good fellow; I only want to cover my responsibility;
show me the letter, I ask no more."
"And that will satisfy you?"
"Yes, because I know the General's handwriting."
"Oh, in that case, it is all right," and drawing a large envelope from
his breast, he said as he showed it to the American, though without
loosing his hold, "Look!"
The latter looked at it closely for some minutes.
"It is really the General's handwriting," the soldier continued.
"Yes,"
"Now, do you consent to lead me to the Jaguar?"
"Whenever you like."
"At once then."
"Very good."
The two men rose by mutual agreement, put the bits in their horses'
mouths, leaped into their saddles, and left at a gallop the spot which
for several hours had afforded them such pleasant shade.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE BARGAIN.
The two adventurers rode gaily side by side, telling one another the
news of the desert, that is to say, hunting exploits, and skirmishes
with the Indians, and conversing about the political events which for
some months past had attained a certain gravity and alarming importance
for the Mexican government.
But, while thus talking, asking each other questions, the answers to
which they did not wait to hear, their conversation had no other object
save to conceal the secret preoccupation that agitated them.
In their previous discussion, each had tried to overreach the other,
trying to draw out secrets, the hunter manoeuvring to lead the soldier
to an act of treachery, the latter asking no better than to sell
himself, and acting in accordance with his wishes; the result of the
trial was that they had found themselves of equal force, and each had
obtained the result he wanted.
But this was no longer the question with them; like all crafty men,
success, instead of satisfying them, had given birth in their minds to
a multitude of suspicions. John Davis asked himself what cause had led
the dragoon to betray his party so easily, without stipulating
beforehand for important advantages for himself.
For everything is paid for in America, and infamy especially commands a
high price.
On his side, the dragoon found that the hunter put faith in his
statements very easily, and, in spite of his comrade's affectionate
manner, the nearer he approached the camp of the border rifles, the more
his uneasiness increased; for he was beginning to fear lest he had gone
head first into a snare, and had trusted too imprudently to a man whose
reputation was far from reassuring him.
Such was the state of mind in which the two men stood to each other,
scarce an hour after leaving the spot where they had met so
accidentally.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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