CHAPTER FIFTY.

The monk who presented himself was the same who had figured at the dinner-party. He was the senior of the two that directed the mission, and in every respect the ruler of the establishment. He was known as the Padre Joaquin, while his junior was the Padre Jorge. The latter was a late addition to the post, whereas Padre Joaquin had been its director almost since the time of its establishment. He was, therefore, an old resident, and knew the history and character of every settler in the valley. For some reason or other he held an inveterate dislike to the family of the cibolero, to which he had given expression upon the evening of the dinner-party,--although he assigned no cause for his hostility. It could not have been because he regarded them as "hereticos," for, though the Padre Joaquin was loud in his denunciations of all who were outside the pale of the Church, yet in his own heart he cared but little about such things. His zeal for religion was sheer hypocrisy and worldly cunning. There was no vice practised in the settlement in which Padre Joaquin did not take a leading part. An adroit _monte_ player he was--ready to do a little cheating upon occasions--a capital judge of game "gallos," ever ready to stake his onzas upon a "main." In addition to these accomplishments, the padre boasted of others. In his cups,--and this was nothing unusual,--he was in the habit of relating the _liaisons_ and _amourettes_ of his earlier life, and even some of later date. Although the neophytes of the mission were supposed to be all native Tagnos with dark skins, yet there was to be seen upon the establishment quite a crowd of young _mestizoes_, both boys and girls, who were known as the "sobrinos" and "sobrinas" of Padre Joaquin.

You cannot otherwise than deem this an exaggeration: you will imagine that no reverend father could practise such conduct, and still be held in any sort of respect by the people among whom he dwelt? So should I have thought had I not witnessed with my own eyes and ears the "priest-life" of Mexico. The immoralities here ascribed to Padre Joaquin can scarcely be called exceptional in his class. They are rather common than otherwise--some have even said _universal_.

It was no zealous feeling of religion, then, that could have "set" the monk in such hostile attitude against the family of the poor cibolero.

No. It was some old grudge against the deceased father,--some cross which the padre had experienced from him in the days of the former Comandante.

As Padre Joaquin walked forward on the azotea, his busy bustling air showed that he was charged with some "novedad;" and the triumphant smile upon his countenance told that he calculated upon its being of interest to those to whom he was about to communicate it.

"Good day, father!--Good day, your reverence!" said the Comandante and Roblado speaking at the same time.

"_Buenos dias, cavalleros_!" responded the padre.

"Glad to see you, good father!" said Roblado. "You have saved me a ride. I was just in the act of starting for the mission to wait upon your reverence."

"And if you had come, capitan, I could have given you a luxury to lunch upon. We have received our buffalo-tongues."

"Oh! you have!" cried Vizcarra and Roblado in the same breath, and with an expression of interest that somewhat surprised the padre.

"Ha! you greedy _ladrones_! I see what you would be after. You would have me send you some of them. You sha'n't have a slice though--that is, unless you can give me something that will wash this dust out of my throat. I'm woeful thirsty this morning."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the officers. "What shall it be, father?"

"Well--let me see.--Ah!--a cup of 'Bordeos'--that you received by last arrival."

The claret was ordered and brought up; and the padre, tossing off a glassful, smacked his lips after it with the air of one who well knew and appreciated the good quality of the wine.

"_Linda! lindisima_!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes up to heaven, as if everything good should come and go in that direction.

"And so, padre," said the impatient Roblado, "you have got your buffalo-tongues? Your hunters, then, have returned?"

"They have; that is the business that brought me over."

"Good! that was the business that was about to take me to the mission."

"An onza we were both on the same errand!" challenged the padre.

"I won't bet, father; you always win."

"Come! you'd be glad to give an onza for my news."

"What news?--what news?" asked the officers at once, and with hurried impatience of manner.

"Another cup of Bordeos, or I choke! The dust of that road is worse than purgatory. Ah! this is a relief."

And again the padre swallowed a large glassful of claret, and smacked his lips as before.

"Now your news, dear padre?"

"_Pues_, cavalleros--our hunters have returned!"

"_Y pues_?"

"_Pues que_! they have brought news."

"Of what?"

"Of our friend the cibolero."

"Of Carlos?"

"Precisely of that individual."

"What news? Have they seen him?"

"No, not exactly _him_, but _his trail_. They have discovered his lair, and know where he is at this moment."

"Good!" exclaimed Vizcarra and Roblado.

"They can find him at any time."

"Excellent!"

"_Pues_, cavalleros; that is my news at your service. Use it to your advantage, if you can."

"Dear padre!" replied Vizcarra, "yours is a wiser head than ours. You know the situation of affairs. Our troopers _cannot catch_ this villain. How would you advise us to act?"

The padre felt nattered by this confidence.

"Amigos!" said he, drawing both of them together, "I have been thinking of this; and it is my opinion you will do just as well without the help of a single soldier. Take these two hunters into your confidence--so far as may be necessary--equip them for the work--set them on the trail; and if they don't hunt down the heretic rascal, then I, Padre Joaquin, have no knowledge of men."

"Why, padre!" said Roblado; "it's the very thing we have been thinking about--the very business for which I was about to seek you."

"You had good reason, cavalleros. In my opinion, it's the best course to be followed."

"But will your hunters go willingly to work? They are free men, and may not like to engage in so dangerous an enterprise."

"Dangerous!" repeated the padre. "The danger will be no obstacle to them, I promise you. They have the courage of lions and the agility of tigers. You need not fear that danger will stand in the way."

"You think, then, they will be disposed to it?"

"They _are_ disposed--I have sounded them. They have some reasons of their own for not loving the cibolero too dearly; and therefore, cavalleros, you won't require to use much persuasion on that score. I fancy you'll find them ready enough, for they have, been reading the proclamation, and, if I mistake not, have been turning over in their thoughts the fine promises it holds out. Make it sure to them that they will be well rewarded, and they'll bring you the cibolero's ears, or his scalp, or his whole carcase, if you prefer it, in less than three days from the present time! They'll track him down, I warrant."

"Should we send some troopers along with them? The cibolero may not be alone. We have reason to believe he has a half-blood with him--a sort of right-hand man of his own--and with this help he may be quite a match for your hunters."

"Not likely--they are very _demonios_. But you can consult themselves about that. They will know best whether they need assistance. That is their own affair, cavalleros. Let them decide."