. ..--._ -I -, i u_ i sssaa=sg===v~> L ip 
 
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 OK. 
 
 1*1111 niy 
 
 A STORY OF THE MEXICAN WAR. 
 
 BY NED BUNTLINE. 
 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ELLIOTT, THOMES & TALBOT, 
 118 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Clerk's Office of the 
 District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
Bancroft 
 
 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 "BUBAL CHOICE." THE VOLUNTEEB. THE BAKBACUE. 
 
 No preface, reader, nor apology here this is a story of thrill 
 ing scenes, daring deeds, and stirring times. We will leap the 
 breastworks of reserve, and at once dash into its merits, as did 
 the brave warriors who led the way and won the day at 
 Monterey. 
 
 It commences with the fourth day of the attack upon Mon 
 terey the day when our brave troops were forcing their way 
 through the walls of the houses, step by step, toward the heart 
 of the city now meeting the foe hand to hand and knife to 
 knife, then sending the deadly rifle ball among their desperate 
 ranks, now pouring down their unerring volleys from the house 
 tops, then through casements and lattices where never before 
 was seen aught but flowers and smiling faces, now treading 
 with armed and blood-stained heels over silken carpets, then 
 crushing the flowers that had been reared and cherished by the 
 fair hands of many a sweet southern girl. But we'll do as 
 others have often tried to do; we will begin ahead of our " com 
 mencement," and in that way work a traverse to introduce to 
 you our hero. 
 
 The news of the battles of the eighth and ninth of May, 1846, 
 had reached the government, and already had requisitions 
 been made on several States for troops. The whole country 
 
4 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 was in a feverish state of excitement, and the riflemen of 
 Kentucky, that class of whom Byron says 
 
 14 And tall and strong, and swift of foot were they, 
 
 Beyond the dwarfing cities' pale abortions, 
 Because their thoughts had never been the prey 
 
 Of care or gain; the green woods were their portions: 
 No sinking spirits told them they grew gray, 
 
 No fashion made them apes of her distortions ; 
 Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles, 
 
 Though very true, were not yet used for trifles, 
 
 were already wending their way to the numerous recruiting 
 stations in their State. To one of these, in a -backwoods 
 settlement, reader, we will wend our way. 
 
 The settlement of "Rural Choice" boasted one dwelling 
 house, which served as tavern, post-office, and, whenever a 
 travelling minister came along, for a church. Near this stood 
 a small log hut, over which a little red flag was hoisted, to sig 
 nify that it was a store, a place where grog, calico, sugar and 
 salt could be bought for cash, or be had for " barter." 
 
 The dwelling-house and store belonged to one of the first 
 settlers in that portion of Kentucky, one who was known to all 
 the settlement around, as ' Uncle Ned Blakey," a man who was 
 loved by the good and honest, and feared by the vile ; one who 
 had the reputation of always doing by others as he would that 
 they should do by him. He had come into that section with no 
 property save his axe, rifle, and a healthy young wife whom lie 
 had brought from the mountains of Virginia, and by untiring 
 industry and perseverance he had amassed a very considerable 
 fortune. He had one son, and that youth was George Blakey, 
 the hero of our romance. 
 
 George, at the time of our commencement, was just twety- 
 one, and a noble specimen of a backwoodsman. He stood just 
 six feet and one inch in height, was straight as one of his own 
 forest maples, had a brow high, fair, and unfurrowed by .care or 
 dissipation, an eye blue as an Italian sky, and clear as the 
 waveless ocean off soundings; limbs that developed muscle arid 
 strength which would, in the days of Grecian splendor, have 
 made him a favorite model for the sculptor's eye. 
 
 As the only son, he was the idol of his parents ; as a handsome, 
 dashing, true-hearted boy, he had ever been the favorite of all 
 the girls in his neighborhood ; as a generous, bold and lively 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 5 
 
 companion, he had been loved by all the boys of the settlement. 
 Few indeed were more generally loved and admired than he. 
 His education, if one should judge from his conversation, was 
 good, yet that boy had never been inside of a school house. 
 His mother had taught him to read ; his father had always taken 
 two or three newspapers, and here was the secret of his educa 
 tion. He was always conversant with the news of the day, had 
 acquired a good judgment in literary matters, and was regarded 
 by many, who knew not where he had gained his education, as 
 the best read man in the country. There is a moral in this 
 truth ; we hope our readers will improve upon it. In the mean 
 time, pardon our digression, and we'll open the web of our 
 yarn. 
 
 Old Mr. Blakey, or " Uncle Ned," as every one called him, 
 was seated at the breakfast-table one fine morning in July, 184G, 
 his wife by his side, and his son George opposite to him. The 
 latter had just read aloud the requisition upon the State for a 
 regiment of troops, and as he closed, he sprang to his feet, and 
 much to the alarm of his mother, perhaps to the surprise of his 
 father, exclaimed : 
 
 " Old Logan county shall furnish one company, and I'll raise 
 them!" 
 
 "What! you, George?" asked the mother, anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, mother, me! I'm sure that I can raise as fine a squad 
 of boys as 'Old Rough and Ready ' ever laid his eyes on, and 
 the old codger needs men down there. I must be off!" 
 
 " Who'll take care of the store, and open the weekly mail, 
 boy ?" asked the father. 
 
 " O, let the girls come and help you. The store is a poor 
 place for a man at any time, and no place for him in war time." 
 
 " There's a deal of truth in that," said Uncle Ned, " but it'll 
 be hard for us to part with ye now. It is one-and-twenty years 
 since I first looked into your blue eyes, and never have you been 
 absent a single day from my side ; but if your country calls you, 
 why, boy, God bless you ! I'd a done the same when I was of 
 your age." 
 
 The voice of the father trembled a little with emotion as he 
 spoke, and his lips quivered ; but the feelings of the mother 
 could not be kept under the same command. Bursting into 
 tears, she cried : 
 
 " O, George, don't think of going to the wars. What would 
 we do if you should be killed ? We cannot let you go." 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Mother, it is my duty. It were better for me to fill a brave 
 man's grave, than to live in a coward's place. The call is for 
 men; you would yourself blush if I were so unmanly as not to 
 respond to the call." 
 
 " Yes, Letty, the boy is right; you'd despise him if he'd back 
 from duty," said Uncle Ned. 
 
 " Well, if it is best I'll try to bear it," said the mother. " I'll 
 go to work and fix up your clothes." 
 
 "And I'll set the sights of * old deer slayer,' and run some 
 balls for her; she's the truest rifle that ever barked at a red 
 skin !" added the father. 
 
 " Thank you, father," said the young volunteer, " I'll jump on 
 the gray gelding and ride through the settlement and see the 
 boys. Do you put things in trim for a barbacue here to-morrow 
 I'll raise the boys and take their names there, for we must 
 make quick work of it. The requisition says that the firsfcwho 
 report will be accepted, and if I know ' Old Kentuck,' there'll 
 be a rush for the first chance." 
 
 The parties separated one to drum up recruits, the second 
 to fit her son for the march, the last to arm him for the fray. 
 
 THE BARBACTTE. 
 
 Some of our thousands of western readers will not need a de 
 scription to know what a barbacue is, yet there are others among 
 our eastern friends who know little or nothing of such a festival. 
 
 In a grove just back of the store at Rural Choice, beside a 
 large, clear spring of ice-cold water, a long hole had been dug 
 in the earth early on the morning of the day succeeding the one 
 which opens our chapter. In this large quantities of wood had 
 been laid, and before noon it had burned down into a bed of 
 glowing coals. Over this bed, upon a grating of sticks, were 
 laid several neatly dressed young pigs and lambs, and those 
 were roasting whole at the time when we asked you to look at 
 the barbacue. Upon the mossy rocks around the springs were 
 clustered a large party of young men and women, and among 
 the trees at a distance were tied the horses which had borne 
 the company here. It would have been a goodly scene for a 
 painter to sketch. The strong, healthy looking daughters, and 
 the tall, hardy sons of the West,' in their coarse but comfortable 
 garb, scattered here and there. 
 
 George Blakey had been making a little bit of a speech to 
 thorn, ami now sat upon a rock with an old account book of his 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 7 
 
 father's on his knee, taking down the list of names on a blank 
 leaf of the same, as the young riflemen crowded around to vol 
 unteer under his command. Among the girls there were tear 
 ful eyes, yet not one of them was weak enough to bid her lover 
 stay; among the young men there were sad faces, yet not one 
 faltered as he wrote his name or made his mark upon the roll 
 which George held in his hand. 
 
 Thus, before the barbacue was done brown, the list of the 
 " Logan county riflemen " was filled ; and leaving his father to 
 do the honors of the rude feast, and bidding his men to hold 
 themselves in readiness for service on his return, young Blakey 
 sprang upon his horse and hurried to Frankfort to report his 
 company. 
 
 We will not tarry to explain the minutiae of mustering his 
 company into service, but simply state that they were soon on 
 their way to the seat of war, and that they joined General Tay 
 lor in time to participate in the siege and capture of Monterey. 
 But for that look into the next chapter. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Blakey deeply felt the loss of their son, yet their 
 sorrow was softened by the thought that he was doing his duty, 
 and they were proud to know how quickly he had raised such 
 a noble company, and how unanimously he had been elected to 
 command it. 
 
 George left no sweetheart behind him to mourn his absence, 
 for though he was a general favorite among the fair, yet he had 
 made choice of no " bright particular star " on which to fix his 
 heart-gaze. And it was well for him that it was so, perhaps. 
 
 O, how many a warm, tender heart has been broken during 
 this war; how many a pale face and tearful eye now will read 
 these words, and think of the noble and brave who have fallen 
 on the battle field, are buried beneath the ensanguined sod of 
 a distant land ! Be comforted, fair mourners, your separation 
 is not eternal ; a nation's gratitude is as a pall of glory resting 
 over the tombs of your beloved. Though they lie at Monterey 
 or on Buena Vista's plain, without a stone to mark their graves, 
 the everlasting monument of Fame is theirs ; they are linked 
 with our country's history they never will be forgotten ! This 
 thought, perchance, has cheered their dying moments, linked 
 with memories of you, perhaps it has painted the smiles of con 
 tentment on their pale cheeks, and they, like the glorious Wolfe, 
 on the Canadian heights, have said" I die happy !" 
 
THB VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE HEROINE OF MONTEREY A PRISONER. 
 
 THE pages of American history have already received the 
 records of the glorious five days which were occupied in the 
 siege and capture of Monterey, yet there were many incidents 
 that occurred in that siege, which never have been registered 
 on the historian's scroll ; events which only can be gathered 
 from the lips of the actors in the fearful drama. All know how 
 gallantly the volunteers shared in the perils of that day, with 
 the veteran troops of Palo Alto and Resaca's fame: the records 
 of their killed and wounded speak for them, and tell how freely 
 they hazarded their lives in their country's cause. 
 
 The "Logan county riflemen " arrived just in time to join 
 General Worth's attacking division, and were used by him as a 
 pioneer and ranging corps, which gave them an opportunity to 
 have more than a fair share of service. Yet this was the desire 
 of their young and ambitious commander, and his men loved 
 him too well to falter, when he cried " follow." 
 
 On this kind of duty, he was sent in advance on the twenty- 
 second of September, the day before General Worth made his 
 last desperate and successful advance into the city, and had 
 reached under cover of some hills within a short distance of the 
 city, when he found advancing upon him a large body of lancers. 
 Closing up his men into a solid square, behind a low wall, he 
 awaited the charge of the enemy, and as they came within half 
 pistol shot he poured in a volley from his deadly rifles with such 
 tcrriflc eflect that the foe recoiled, and all save onethat one 
 tin -ir leader, turned and fled from the field, leaving a portion of 
 their comrades lying dead. 
 
 The leader seemed to have lost the control of his horse, or to 
 have been carried away by the impetuous speed of his charge, 
 for he dashed right into the midst of the riflemen, firing his 
 pistol as he came on, and waving his sword as if his whole troop 
 were at his back. A ball from one of the rifles had grazed his 
 cheek, another had cut the stem of the coal black plume from 
 hia helmet, and it now drooped down upon his neck. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 His horse fell as it leaped the wall, and in a moment he was 
 in the hands of our men, one of whom with reckless haste raised 
 his heavy bowie-knife to despatch him, but was stayed in the 
 very moment of the intention, by the voice of his captain, who 
 cried, sternly : 
 
 " What ! strike a helpless foe ! shame on you, Ghamp *put up 
 your weapon." 
 
 Sullenly the man obeyed, and Blakey, springing to the side 
 of the Mexican officer, added : 
 
 " Yield, sir, you are my prisoner !" 
 
 " Yes," replied the officer, handing his sword to Blakey ; " de 
 serted by my cowardly followers, it were madness in me now to 
 resist." 
 
 Blakey was astonished by the soft, sweet tone of the voice 
 which addressed him, as also surprised by the pure English 
 which the Mexican officer used. The latter seemed to be but 
 a young boy, his dress, too, was singular, and his appearance 
 far more feminine than his actions would denote. 
 
 " You are wounded, sir," said Blakey, noticing the b'ood 
 streaming down the officer's cheek from the graze which I have 
 already alluded to. 
 
 " Would that I were slain better to die than to be a prisoner 
 to my country's foe!" answered the other, with a tone of 
 sadness. 
 
 " Say not so, you will soon be exchanged ; take again your 
 sword ; one who uses it so well, must not part with it. Your 
 parole is all I ask," said Blakey. 
 
 " You are very generous, senor," replied the other, raising 
 his helmet and bowing low, still speaking in a soft, musical 
 tone. 
 
 Blakey was astonished at the luxuriant and glossy curls 
 which fell from beneath the young soldier's helmet as he raised 
 it, and then a suspicion flashed across his mind that a female 
 stood before him. A glance at the delicate foot and hand of 
 the officer, one searching look at the long hair, and in the jet 
 black eyes, so large, so dewy, and shaded by lashes of silken 
 gloss, caused him to feel certain of it, and he spoke hastily: 
 
 " By heavens, you are a lady! Speak, is it not so? Has it 
 come to this, that even the women of Mexico arm to repel their 
 invaders ?" 
 
 " It is time that they did so, senor, when the men prove so 
 cowardly as those who have fled and left me to your mercy. 
 
10 THE VOLUNTEEB. 
 
 You have discovered my sex. I am a woman, yet I hold a com 
 mission as captain of lancers in the army of my country. I ap 
 plied for it, Ampudia dared not refuse me, for my family are 
 too well known to him. He dared not affront me by a refusal !" 
 
 " Lady, this is very strange. Give me your name." 
 
 " Edwina Canales, sister to the guerrilla chief, who is even 
 now on your borders, one whose name is well known to your 
 countrymen, one whose history is strange one who has been 
 made a foe by cruel wrongs, wrongs that have left us orphans ! 
 O, let the Texans beware of our revenge ; we both have suffered 
 by it; we and our young brother !" 
 
 " Lady, I know not of what you speak, yet, deep must have 
 been wrongs which could induce you thus to unsex yourself, 
 and face the fearful perils of war." 
 
 Tears gathered then in her eyes, as if the memory of her 
 wrongs had swelled the fountain of feeling to overrunning, but 
 her tone was firm, even bitter, as she said : 
 
 " It matters not to recall them. I am your prisoner, and 
 helpless now." 
 
 ** Yon are free, lady; Americans never. war upon women/' 
 said Blakey, in a tone of deep feeling. 
 
 " Free ?" echoed she ; " free, yet not on parole ?" 
 
 " No, lady, yet I hope for your own sake that you will not 
 again meet our forces." 
 
 " I shall only accept freedom on terms that will allow me to 
 join my countrymen in arms," replied the maiden. " Edwina 
 Canales is wedded alone to her country's cause !" 
 
 M Lady, I cannot, will not detain you, yet I beseech you to 
 retire from this city at least. To-morrow we assault it." 
 
 " Then to-morrow, if its defenders do but half their duty will 
 yon be defeated P 
 
 " Lady, we are led by Taylor /" 
 
 " l lo has been successful, he is brave, yet here we are fortified, 
 and three to one in number opposed to him !" 
 
 " Yet we will succeed !" 
 
 "PerAapaso!" replied the lady, with a doubting smile, and 
 then added: " if I am free, I will depart," 
 
 * ' lady ' acce P l mine in 5ts stead; it would 
 
 root" * in me to permlt you to retarn to your city on 
 
 - r - - , s a loan to De repaid as soon as 
 
 the brave girl, and the next moment she was 
 
THE VOLUNTEEB. 11 
 
 mounted on Blakey's horse, and riding with a free rein toward 
 the city. 
 
 "Beautiful as she is brave!" exclaimed Blakey, as his eye 
 followed her noble figure, when she rode away. 
 
 A few moments after she had left the spot where she had been 
 both captured and freed, Blakey saw an immense body of cav 
 alry ride from the city, and once more he prepared for a strug 
 gle against odds which were too great for him even to hope for 
 success. But he had no time to escape by retreat, only the 
 officers of his corps were mounted on that morning, and his own 
 horse was gone. Silently the little band re-formed their square, 
 and awaited the attack of the advancing regiment. By this time 
 it had been met by the freed maiden, who rode up to the officer 
 at its head, and caused a halt. 
 
 The Kentuckians were most agreeably surprised to see the 
 enemy in a few moments after turn back towards the city, and 
 they knew that the attack had been suspended by some influ 
 ence of their late prisoner. Blakey soon after regained his 
 camp, where he had not been long, before the story of his ad 
 venture became circulated. 
 
 At the " mess" that evening, it was the topic of conversation, 
 and many a joke and lively jest were perpetrated at the expense 
 of Blakey and his fair captive. In the " mess" there was a per 
 son who, from his bullying and ungentlemanly manner, and his 
 universally known brutality, was disliked by all, and particu 
 larly detested by Blakey. His name was Gorin ; he was a cap 
 tain in the Texan Rangers, and one whose proudest boast was, 
 that he had never spared an enemy. On this occasion, he con 
 demned Blakey bitterly for his mercy, charging him openly 
 with a neglect of his duty. 
 
 11 Had it been me that captured her," said he, " she never 
 would have gone back to her camp alive. She should have 
 either come to my tent, or I would have left her to feed crows 
 upon the ground !" 
 
 " Thank God, sir, that you did not capture her ; one stain 
 upon our arms has been prevented !" replied Blakey. 
 
 The other was about to answer, probably with some new 
 insult, when an orderly at the front of the mess tent called for 
 Captain Blakey. On the latter answering the summons, he 
 found before the tent a Mexican soldier, who had been admitted 
 with a flag to see him. The soldier held two horses by their 
 bridles. One was the same steed which Blakey had loaned to 
 
12 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 liis prisoner ; the other was a coal black charger, of great beauty 
 and strergth ; such a horse as a knight of the olden time would 
 have chosen for the battle. The soldier handed a note to 
 Blakey. Opening it, he read these words : 
 
 " The kind American will oblige the sister of Canales by ac 
 cepting the steed which, with his own, will be delivered to him 
 by the bearer. There is but one other like it in Mexico that 
 one is ridden henceforth by me alone. They are mates. Fare 
 well. May we never meet on the battle field." 
 
 There was no signature to the note. It needed none, Blakey 
 knew well from whom it came. Taking from his cap the white 
 band of silver lace which was around it, he handed it to the 
 soldier, and bade him carry it back to her who sent him, and 
 request her to wear it upon her arm, if ever she again met the 
 American forces in battle. Then he retired to his own tent, 
 for he was not in a mood to meet Gorin again. 
 
 The night passed away, and with the first dawn of the morn 
 ing's light the troops, who had slept on their arms, were in 
 motion. The cannon of the bishop's palace had been turned 
 upon the city by our artillerists, and soon the troops advanced 
 upon the city. As soon as they got within reach of the houses, 
 a hot and deadly fire was poured in upon them from windows, 
 doors and housetops, and they found cannons placed m the 
 streets, so as completely to enfilade them if they attempted to 
 march up them. 
 
 The gallant Worth saw with pain that he would lose many 
 *)f his brave men, if this was attempted, and at once adopted 
 the plan which was so perfectly successful. He gave orders for 
 his men to enter the houses, where they would be partially 
 covered from the fire of the enemy, and by breaking down the 
 walls to force their way, from house to house, towards the 
 Grand Plaza in the centre of the city, where the main body of 
 the Mexican troops had formed their camp. 
 
 With a few of the Texan Rangers, and his own company, 
 Blakey had led the way on one side of the main street, now 
 skirmishing with small parties of the enemy in the street, then 
 firing from the house-tops, or again clashing down intervening 
 walls, losing every now and then some of his most daring and 
 list ful iiu-n, until nearly night. They were already within a 
 few hundred yards of tho Plaza, and were gradually gaining 
 
THE VOLUNTEEK. 13 
 
 They had reached a large stone building, whose thick walls 
 offered a very stout resistance ; besides, it seemed to be defended 
 by a very strong guard of soldiers, for three times had they en 
 deavored to gain it by the street doors and windows, and each 
 time had suffered a fearful loss. In the last repulse, Blakey 
 was wounded, but his wound did not disable or dishearten him, 
 for as he regained the cover of the adjoining house, he cried: 
 
 " We must force the wall again, my lads! At it with your 
 pickaxes, and we'll soon have more elbow room !" 
 
 Beneath the heavy blows of the stalwart backwoodsmen, the 
 walls soon began to crumble, and it was not long before an 
 opening was made ; but even now the danger seemed to in 
 crease, for tw<5 of the men with axes were shot dead at their 
 work, while a rattling volley poured in from the other side, 
 gave token that there men there disposed to defend their 
 ground to the last. 
 
 "A few blows, boys, and we'll make room for a charge I" cried 
 Blakey, seizing an axe himself, and springing to the work which 
 the others shrank from, seconded by one who possessed cour 
 age, if nothing else (we mean Gorin), who, with a huge crow 
 bar, dashed down the heavy stones as if they were mere pebbles. 
 
 In a moment the breach was large enough, and the men 
 gathered together for a charge. The enemy on the opposite 
 side could not now be seen; all was silent, and even Blakey 
 began to think that the place could be gained without further 
 resistance. They were about to spring through, when a voice 
 loud and clear as a bugle, cried from the other side of the 
 aperture : 
 
 " Keep back, on your lives, keep back ! One step beyond 
 the wall, and you all perish !" 
 
 " By heavens, 'tis her voice !" cried Blakey, recognizing the 
 tones of his late captive ; and then as he bent his eye to the 
 aperture, he saw her, and also to his horror saw that a lighted 
 match was in her hand, and that she stood by a train of gun 
 powder, which led to a barrel of the same dangerous material, 
 which was placed against the wall which they had just forced. 
 The band of silver lace was on her arm, but she did not appear 
 to recognize him, though they were but a few feet asunder. 
 
 Gorin, too, bent down his head, and as he looked through the 
 aperture, his face turned ashy pale, not with the fear of death, 
 for he was proverbially reckless of danger, but with something 
 even stranger. 
 
14 THE VOLUNTEETl. 
 
 "By all that's fatal, it is she," he groaned; "she has come 
 again to curse me from the tomb. Helen Vicars, what do you 
 here?" 
 
 The last question was spoken in a tone which she heard 
 plainly, for her face lighted up with a smile as fiendish as ever 
 rested on an angered woman's face, while she cried : 
 
 "Ah, thank God it is you ! I thought I heard another voice, 
 which might have stayed my hand ; but for you, death! the 
 doom you gave my gray-haired parents !" 
 
 As she said this, she bent down to touch the match to the 
 train, but the one instant delay she had made to speak, enabled 
 Blakey alone to spring through the aperture, and as she saw 
 and recognized him, she paused, and dashing the match from 
 her hand, cried : " You shall not die I will meet him again !" 
 With the quickness of thought, she sprang through an open 
 door behind her, through which her company had already re 
 treated, and before Blakey could recover from his surprise, she 
 hail disappeared. 
 
 " On, men, on after her, and a hundred dollars to the man 
 that takes her, dead or alive !" shouted Gorin, as he dashed 
 through the breach. 
 
 *' Death to the first man who raises a weapon against her 
 life!" cried Blakey; but the object of the threat was already 
 beyond harm's reach ; and in a few moments afterwards the 
 bugle sounded the truce, which resulted in the capitulation of 
 the city. 
 
 " Captain Blakey, you had better beware how you ever at 
 tempt to thwart me !" cried Gorin to the former, when the men, 
 obeying his order, desisted from the pursuit of the maiden. 
 
 Blakey paid no attention to the threat of the other, nor 
 deigned to give him any answer. Yet he felt strangely anxious 
 to know how it was that Gorin seemed to know and fear her, 
 and why he had called her by another name than that given by 
 herself to him. 
 
 On the next morning the capitulation was signed, and soon 
 after the officers and garrison were permitted to depart with 
 the honors of war. In vain did Blakey look among their re- 
 tivutinir ranks for the form of his heroine; in vain did he make 
 inquiry for her; she was not seen again with the Mexican army 
 Her name, as spoken by Gorin, who seemed to know 
 ' as Helen Vicars, and, who was she what had she to do 
 with Gorin? This was the mystery. 
 
THE VOLUNTEEK. 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TWO MAIDENS. THE LOVERS. 
 
 WHERE, on the right, the mountain overhangs the celebrated 
 " Riconada Pass," there stands an old castle which looks with 
 its gray, moss-covered walls, as if it had been built in the year 
 one. It was evidently a specimen of the ancient Spanish archi 
 tecture, and had probably been erected to guard this pass during 
 the early times of the country's settlement, by its discoverers. 
 We know not how it came into his possession, whether by in 
 heritance or purchase; but at the commencement of the war 
 this old castle was the property of General Urrea, and to it, as 
 a place of safety, he had removed his wife and daughter. 
 
 The latter was a sweet girl of twenty summers' blooming; 
 one who possessed all of the beauty of her mother's Castilian 
 stock, with the natural grace of her father's blood, which was 
 that of the ancient Aztecs, the most kingly of the native tribes 
 of Mexico. 
 
 The castle, which, after the pass that it commanded, was 
 called " El Riconada," was hidden from the road which wound 
 along beneath it, by a growth of thick forest trees ; yet from 
 the verge of the battlements there could be discovered little 
 gaps in the thick foliage below, through which the sentinel on 
 watch could catch an occasional glimpse of the path, as the 
 breeze waved the branches to and fro. 
 
 At the time when we introduce the reader to this scene, a 
 few days after the surrender of Monterey, the battlements over 
 looking the road was occupied by two females. One of them 
 was Anita, the daughter of Urrea ; the other was a lady whose 
 age appeared to be about the same, yet whose appearance was 
 very different. The former, as we have already said, had seen 
 twenty years of life. She was small, delicately slender, yet 
 beautifully and gracefully formed. Her face expressed a char- 
 ao.tp.r of snrnassino' soft.np.ss and swppfcnp.ss : shp, looked as if 
 
10 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 smiles and tears could come and go with her as with an April 
 sky; as if she could grieve with the sorrowful, and smile with 
 the happy ; as if her heart was full of beauty and sympathy. 
 She seemed to be all woman all tenderness. Her companion 
 was a tall, magnificent being, with eyes black as night, a com 
 plexion brilliantly clear, though of the brunette hue, hair that 
 hung in a glossy flood of jet black curls down her graceful neck 
 and shoulders ; features that were as perfect as ever painter 
 pencilled, yet of a sterner and more queenly cast than were 
 those of Anita Urrea. 
 
 Both were dressed alike, in the style peculiar to the country, 
 yet how different was each from the other, as they paced to and 
 fro along the lofty parapet, engaged in conversation. 
 
 It was sunset, the birds were flying towards their nests, 
 nature seemed to be settling down to her nightly rest, drawing 
 over herself the cloak of twilight. The conversation of the 
 maidens was upon the only topic which at that dark hour 
 occupied all the true hearts of Mexico. 
 
 " So Monterey is fallen, and again the Northern foe is trium 
 phant!" said Anita, sadly. 
 
 " Yes," responded her companion, in a more impatient tone. 
 " Yes, and eleven thousand cowards, who held a fortified town 
 against only six thousand of the enemy, have given it up to 
 them. I blushed for shame to hear the bugle sound a truce, 
 and when I heard Ampudia say that he would surrender, I 
 vowed not to be a witness of the shameful scene, and I am 
 here!" 
 
 " Never, dear Edwina, to look upon scenes like those through 
 which you have passed, I hope," said the other. 
 
 " Not until I can find men who will not flee before they have 
 at least tested the strength of their foes twice have I been 
 deserted by my cowardly followers ; once, through their das 
 tardly conduct, left to the mercy of the enemy, to whom I 
 should have fallen a victim had it not been for the generosity 
 of one of their officers, who saved me who gave not only life, 
 but liberty I" 
 
 "Life and liberty? And he an enemy!" said the other in 
 surprise ; and then she added : " he discovered your sex !" 
 
 " Yes," said Edwina Canales, " he did had I been a man, I 
 think I should have fared worse." 
 
 "And this stranger this Yankee was he handsome?" asked 
 the gentle Anita. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 17 
 
 " Why yes I think so ; that Is, he looked noble, and that is 
 beauty for me. He looked as if he had a warm, brave heart, a 
 free, generous soul." 
 
 "And did you not love him ?" 
 
 " Love him !" repeated the other ; " love the enemy of my 
 country love the invader of this sacred soil !" 
 
 " You say that he was handsome that he gave you life and 
 liberty ; how could you avoid loving him ? I love him for it," 
 replied the gentle Anita. 
 
 " I have given him his life in return, ay, and spared my dead 
 liest foe, rather than injure him who served me. The debt is 
 repaid," said Edwina, coldly. 
 
 " You are a very Diana for coldness, and a very Minerva in 
 all other ways," said Anita, smiling. 
 
 "And you, Anita, are a foolish little Venus, always thinking 
 of love and romance," responded her friend. 
 
 " Well, if I am a Venus, there comes my Adonis," said the 
 laughing girl, in answer to her more serious companion, point 
 ing at the same time toward a young man who was clambering 
 along the hillside on their left, steering toward the spot where 
 they were standing. 
 
 " It is Bonaventura, my dear young brother ! He has come 
 from your father's camp," said Edwina, while her eyes beamed 
 with the warm light of sisterly affection and joy, and the two 
 waved their hands to him in token of recognition. 
 
 Bounding from rock to rock, along the narrow and perilous 
 pathway, the young man rapidly neared them, and as he came 
 nearer the blush on young Anita's face deepened, and her 
 swelling bosom throbbed with excitement. The youth did not 
 seem more than eighteen ; he was the very picture of his sister, 
 in all his features, save that his form was more sturdy and less 
 delicate and graceful. 
 
 As he reached the side of the ladies, he folded his sister in 
 his arms and pressed his lips to her own ; then turning to her 
 companion, he raised the hand which was outstretched to meet 
 his own, to his lips, and warmly but respectfully kissed it, 
 blushing the while even more than she did, whose hand he 
 held. 
 
 "Is my father well ?" she asked, as he raised his head from 
 the salute. 
 
 " Well in body, but sick in spirit at this last disgrace of our 
 arms," replied the youth ; and then added : " He has sent me 
 
 9 
 
jg THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 hither to have you prepare to follow him; he goes westward to 
 collect more men for service, and he considers this an unsafe 
 spot for you." 
 
 " His will must he oheyed," replied the young girl ; you go 
 with us, do you not, Don Bonaventura?" 
 " Certainly, senorita, I command your escort." 
 "And you have heen promoted, brother," said the fair Ed- 
 wina, as she laid her hand upon the epaulets that denoted him 
 now to he a captain. 
 
 "Yes, sister, thanks to my kind and noble general, who has 
 advanced me," replied the youth, turning and again pressing 
 his lips to her cheek. 
 
 As he did so, he saw the scar which we have mentioned, that 
 was caused by the graze of a rifle-ball, in her first rencontre 
 with Blakey's command in front of Monterey. 
 
 " How is this, sister ?" he cried, in surprise ; " you have been 
 hurt." 
 
 " Only a scratch, brother," she answered, with a smile. 
 "A scratch from what? Surely that is the searing mark of 
 a bullet." 
 
 Yes a Yankee rifle-ball, if you must know it. I was at 
 Monterey, where rifle-balls were flying as thick as hail." 
 
 The youth shuddered when he looked upon her cheek and 
 saw how narrowly she had escaped, and then said, sadly : 
 " Why did you expose yourself, dear sister ?" 
 " To try to encourage Mexicans to fight as they ought, to 
 show them that where a woman led, surely men should follow ; 
 but I failed, as you have heard." 
 
 " O, my sister, had I known that you were there, my agony 
 would have been doubled. I little thought that you would 
 leave this place of safety, where I had left you with Anita." 
 
 " Well, it matters not, brother, it is all over now," replied the 
 Bister, carelessly, as if her deeds or her dangers had been but 
 pastime for her. 
 
 At the same time she made an excuse and left the spot, her 
 brother and Anita remaining together. The latter turned to 
 follow, but the youth, blushing deeply as he spoke, said : 
 
 " This twilight is so soft and balmy, senorita, that it is a pity 
 so soon to leave the open air; will you not stay and enjoy it a 
 little longer?" 
 
 " Yes, If you desire it, senor," said the maiden, archly. 
 "Senor!" echoed the young officer "when 1 last parted 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 19 
 
 with yon, Anita, you called me Bonaventura, not the cold title 
 of senor." 
 
 " You were an ensign then now you are a captain." 
 
 "Am I not still your lover am I not now even more worthy 
 to be your lover, that I have risen in rank ?" 
 
 " You are, my own one, you are !" said the warm-hearted 
 girl, and in a moment each had clasped the other fondly, and 
 his lips met hers now; not again were they touched, as. before, 
 respectfully to her hand. 
 
 It would be uninteresting to our reader to follow the conver 
 sation of the two lovers, perhaps wrong to listen to their little 
 secrets, and to intrude upon their fond tete-a-tete. Therefore 
 we will change the scene. 
 
 On the same evening that this scene occurred, General Tay 
 lor was seated in front of his tent at Walnut Grove, in his camp 
 near Monterey, engaged, as he ever was, in the many duties of 
 his responsible and perilous service. A map of the country 
 was on a drum head before him, his adjutant, Major Bliss, was 
 looking at it with him. 
 
 Captain Blakey was standing by his side, holding the bridle 
 of the magnificent black charger which had been sent him by 
 his former captive. He was armed, and evidently about to 
 depart on some mission, for an escort of mounted men were 
 seated on their horses at a few yards distance, with their eyes 
 fixed upon him. 
 
 " Captain Blakey,! want a reconnoissance made in the direc 
 tion of Capallana; I think that Urrea must be in that direction. 
 You will pass through the Riconada gorge, if it is not occupied 
 by the enemy, and endeavor to find the whereabouts of the 
 enemy and his force." 
 
 " I will, general," replied Blakey, and turned to depart, but 
 was recalled by the general, who said: 
 
 " Stay a moment, sir. Look well at the map. This is a sin 
 gular country, and you could easily get lost in it. Be careful 
 not to expose your men to unnecessary danger, but if you do 
 get in a scrape, cut your way out of it ! You can do it. I know 
 what Kentuckians are." 
 
 " You shall know them still better, general, if we get in a 
 fight," said the young captain, gratified at the compliment. 
 The next instant he was in his saddle and galloping oiff, fol 
 lowed by his little band. 
 
2Q THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CONSPIBATOB AND THE ASSASSIN. 
 
 AN eventful evening was that on which occurred the inci 
 dents of our last chapter. On the same evening, about an hour 
 later than the time when young Blakey started on his recon- 
 noissance, a man could have been seen stealing out from the 
 American camp at Walnut Grove, crouching down as he passed 
 tin- line of sentinels, like a midnight thief or assassin. After he 
 had passed the cordon of sentinels, he resumed an upright posi 
 tion, and at a rapid pace made his way to a grove of orange 
 
 near. 
 
 On arriving at the edge of this grove, he paused and whistled 
 shrilly three times. Immediately a low call, sounding like the 
 cooing of a ring-dove, was made from within the grove. On 
 reaching a clear spot in its centre, he was met by a short, thick 
 person, in the dress of a Mexican ranchero. As the moon threw 
 its rays down upon this person's face, it disclosed features of 
 decidedly an Indian character. The cheek bones were promi 
 nent, the nose aquiline, the eyes small, dark and snakish in 
 expression ; his whole face seeming to be a map whereon a 
 character for cunning and ferocity had been plainly written by 
 the hand of Providence. 
 
 The other, whom we have seen stealing out from the Ameri 
 can camp, was a large, heavily built man, one whose dark brow, 
 coal-black eye and swarthy hue made him much resemble the 
 Mexican race, though the uniform which he wore was that of 
 an officer of the American volunteers. He was armed with 
 pistols and a sabre, as was also the Mexican whom he met. He 
 addressed the latter in Spanish, speaking it with all the fluency 
 of a native, but we will render his conversation into English. 
 As he saw the man approach, the officer said : 
 " IB that you, Vicentio ?" 
 " Yes, captain ; I never fail iu my promise to a friend or an 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 21 
 
 enemy," answered the Mexican, while his eyes gleamed with 
 singular brightness, and an expression of strange meaning 
 passed over his dark face. 
 
 " It is well ; here is my part of the promise," said the officer, 
 handing the Mexican a purse, and adding, " there are six doub 
 loons ; now satisfy me on all other points, and I will double the 
 sum." 
 
 "Ask on, then," replied the other. 
 
 " Well, first, tell me how long you have known the woman 
 who was dressed as an officer, and led a company of lancers in 
 the last battle?" 
 
 " I have known her a year or more." 
 
 " What is her name ?" 
 
 " Edwina Canales, sister to Canales the ranchero." 
 
 " Is she a native of Mexico ?" 
 
 " I do not know she is a Spaniard, for she speaks the lan 
 guage fluently." 
 
 " Do you know where she came from ?" 
 
 " No. She and her two brothers have been among the 
 rancheros for a year or so, and are much beloved by them. Her 
 brother hates you Yankees to the death." 
 
 " I know all that; have you ever seen him?" 
 
 " Yes, often." 
 
 " Has he had the thumb of his left hand cut off?" 
 
 " Yes, captain ; but how did you know that ?" 
 
 The other answered not the question, but muttered, as if 
 speaking to himself" It is he, they were not drowned as I 
 thought, and they are yet alive to torment me." Then turning 
 to the Mexican again, he asked : 
 
 " Do you know where she is Helen Vicars ?" 
 
 " Who, captain ?" 
 
 " She whom you call Edwina Canales." 
 
 " I know where she was two days asjone." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "At the Riconada pass." 
 
 " What was she doing there ?" 
 
 " Staying at the casa of General Urrea, with his daughter." 
 
 " Vicentio, she and her whole breed must die !" said the offi 
 cer, in a tone which in itself spoke a hatred deep and bitter. 
 
 The other started as he heard this, and an expression of hate 
 crossed his dark face, but in an instant he had recovered him 
 self and answered : 
 
22 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " IIow much for the job?" 
 
 " Five hundred dollars; half in advance." 
 
 " Not enough one thousand, and half in advance, or I have 
 nothing to do with it," replied the Mexican.. 
 " Well, swear to do it, and you shall have it." 
 
 " Why do you want to kill the woman ?" asked the man, with 
 a tone that to an observing mind would have betrayed unusual 
 interest. 
 
 " That is my business if I hire you to kill, it is for me to 
 choose my victims." 
 
 " Very well, captain ; when do you want this done ?" said the 
 other, in a careless tone. 
 
 "As soon as it can be." 
 
 " When will you give me the advance ?" 
 
 " To-morrow night meet me here." 
 
 "Very well, captain; I will be along at moon-rise," said the 
 Mexican, and as he spoke, he passed on toward the back of the 
 grove. As he went off, he muttered a few words to himself, 
 that were not intended for the ear of his late companion, as 
 their import would prove. He said, in a low, bitter tone : 
 
 " The Yankee is a fool; he will make his own net Vicentio 
 can't make money easier than to fool him a little. Kill Canales, 
 my master and my friend! ha! ha! a likely thing for me to do 
 for a cursed Yankee ! Kill a woman, too ! Vicentio isn't afraid 
 of blood, but he can't kill a woman !" 
 
 When the American officer heard the footsteps of the Mexican 
 no longer, he spoke out in audible soliloquy the thoughts that 
 he had pent up in his bosom : 
 
 " So it is indeed she. She whom once I loved as few can 
 love one whom now I hate as none can hate! Yes, Helen 
 Vicars, your parents scorned and reviled me me, and now they 
 are dead. You, too, shall die, you and yours. You shall know 
 what it is to insult a Gorin! Twice have you escaped me 
 twice as by a miracle, but now I will not fail !" 
 
 The reader will recognize in this person a character whom 
 he has met before Gorin, the Texas ranger. Stealthily he 
 crept back from the grove to the camp, and passed unobserved 
 through the lines until he regained his own camp. 
 
 On reaching his tent, he aroused his servant, who slept by 
 tin' door, a negro whose low forehead, very black skin, and im 
 mense lips, gave him the mark of an almost idiot. He hud 
 much difficulty to awake the fellow, and was obliged to adniin- 
 
THE VOLUNTEEB. 23 
 
 ister sundry severe kicks upon the colored individual's shin 
 before he could persuade him to come out of dreamland. 
 
 " Ga.be, Gabe! you angel of soot, get up. I want you," he 
 cried, as the negro began to show some signs of recovering 
 consciousness. 
 
 " Ki, massa, how you kick um shin ; you hurt poor nigger's 
 soul," he grumbled, as he arose from the footcloth of the tent? 
 where he had been lying. Then he asked : 
 
 " What you want, massa cap'n ?" 
 
 " Which way did the Kentucky captain that I told you to 
 watch go ? Where is he ?" 
 
 " Massa general send him off; he go towards whar de sun go 
 down ten men go with him." 
 
 " Didn't you hear which way he was to go ?" 
 
 " Yes, massa cap'n, but de name crawl out my recollecshun 
 box since I been gone to sleep. It was something about the 
 Eikky nider, or some such sort of a man." 
 
 " Riconada was that it the Riconada pass ?" 
 
 " Yes, massa cap'n, dat's him," answered the negro. 
 
 A smile of satisfaction passed over the face of the ranger as 
 he heard this. 
 
 "So all turns out right," he said ; "he goes to her vicinity; 
 this will aid in my plot to fix his flint. No man ever yet crossed 
 my path with impunity, and he shall rue the day he ever looked 
 across my trail. I must see the general in the morning and see 
 if I can't bring him on to a scent that'll run my range." 
 
 Leaving him for the night, we will relate the result of his 
 morning's interview with " Old Rough and Ready." 
 
 He approached the noble general's tent soon after the break 
 fast hour was over, and was received by the old soldier with his 
 usual urbanity, and invited to a seat on a rude bench, which 
 served the general both as sofa and ottoman. 
 
 He opened his conversation by offering, as he frequently before 
 had done, the services of his corps as spies. 
 
 " I am obliged to you, Captain Gorin, but I have at present 
 no need of any more reconnoitering parties than are out now. 
 I sent Captain Blakey to the Riconada pass last night, and 
 Colonel May has gone towards Saltillo, by the eastern road, 
 this morning." 
 
 " Captain Blakey was very willing to go in that direction, 
 was he not, general ?" said Gorin, in a most lago-like tone. 
 
 " He is always willing to go where he is ordered, I believe, 
 
24 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 sir," replied the general. "I know not that one direction is 
 more pleasant to him than another." 
 
 I think the direction he has taken will suit his taste ; there 
 are attractions for him in the vicinity of <E1 Riconada* which 
 he cannot well avoid." 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir. Explain." 
 
 " I only mean that a pair of black eyes will light him through 
 the pass. You have heard of a female who led a company of 
 lancers at Monterey, have you not?" 
 
 " One whom Blakey took prisoner, and set free when he 
 found she was a woman, and in so doing met my approbation 
 entirely?" 
 
 " Yes, general, the same ; and a beautiful creature she was. 
 Blakey is young and ardent; lean hardly say that I blame 
 him for falling in love with her, yet that love may lead him to a 
 neglect of duty." 
 
 " In love with her? I presume your fancy leads you ahead of 
 the facts, captain," said the general, with an incredulous smile. 
 
 " No, sir, I do not go ahead of the truth. He is in love with 
 that lady; she is at the Riconada pass, and will meet him there. 
 By accident I became an unwilling listener to a messenger 
 from her, who gave him the directions to find her." 
 
 " It is strange, Captain Gorin. Blakey has ever been faithful ; 
 even if this be true, I could not doubt his faith." 
 
 " Nor I, general," replied the consummate villain ; " yet I know 
 that he is a passionate, impetuous youth, and this beautiful 
 woman is the sister of the celebrated Canales. She has encour 
 aged his attentions, we can only guess why, yet there surely 
 must be some good reason for her affection for an enemy to the 
 country to which she and hers have proved so devoted." 
 
 " You speak truly," said the general. And now, while a shade 
 of suspicion seemed to come upon his noble brow, a smile of 
 quiet satisfaction stole over the face of the lago in the scene. 
 
 " Had not another detachment better be sent to see that all is 
 right, and to be certain of performing the duty you require ?" 
 asked Gorin. 
 
 The general paused a moment, and seemed to be wrapped in 
 thought; then springing to his feet, he answered: 
 
 " Yes, take twenty of your rangers follow him to the pass; 
 if all is right, join him and aid him in the duty on which I have 
 sent him to find out the position and numbers of Urrea's 
 division. If there is indeed treachery, then arrest and bring 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 25 
 
 him back for trial; yet I cannot believe him a traitor. He is 
 brave ; the brave are ever true." 
 
 "I will leave ere midnight on his trail, general," was the 
 response of the now contented villain ; and he soon left the camp 
 as if for the purpose of preparation for his departure. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CAMP OF CANALES, THE EANCHEBO. 
 
 IT 'behooves us, reader, to make you acquainted, as fast as 
 possible, with all of the different characters who take a part in 
 our singular drama. Therefore do us the honor to look at the 
 following picture : 
 
 Upon the banks of the upper Rio Grande, near where the Rio 
 Sabinos mingles its clear waters with the larger stream, you 
 will find a noble forest of oaks and pecan trees. The bank of 
 the river is low and clear of shrubbery, so that from the encamp 
 ment on the shore you may look out upon the broad stream, 
 and see the many flocks of ducks and waterfowl which sport 
 upon its waters. 
 
 The encampment, we said. We will explain. A number of 
 small camp fires are ranged close along the river bank, and 
 around these are groups of rude, warlike looking men, whose 
 dress, consisting of loose trousers jackets of green, trimmed 
 with yellow broad-rimmed hats, raw-hide boots, spurs of im 
 mense size and long rowels, show them to be Mexican rancheros. 
 The red sashes around their waists are filled with pistols ; broad 
 hunting knives are also there. A long curved sabre is hanging 
 to each man's belt, a sword too long for any service save that of 
 cavalry. 
 
 The force in view would number, perchance, two hundred 
 men. Their horses are picketed near; at each saddle bow 
 hangs one of the dreaded lassoes ; .before each horse a lance is 
 thrust in the ground, showing that at a moment's warning the 
 party can mount for service. There is neither tent, banner, 
 baggage wagon, nor sign of camp equipage near save the few 
 kettles which hang above the fires, containing their suppers, 
 probably, for the sun is just sinking behind the trees to the 
 westward. 
 
 Beneath a rude shed formed temporarily of green palmetto 
 
20 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 leaves, in the centre of the encampment, sits one whose looks 
 give evidence of his superiority over those around him, although 
 his dress in no wise differs from theirs, save in the superiority 
 of his weapons. In size he is small, but compactly nay 
 elegantly formed; his features are regular and delicate as a 
 woman's; his eye large, black and dewy; his skin dark, yet 
 clear as the rind of the sun-burned pomegranate. His hands 
 were small and white ; the left, however, had lost the thumb. 
 His face was peculiarly expressive of a kind and womanlike 
 disposition ; his thin lips alone, curving downward at either 
 corner, gave token of resolution and firmness. His eyes were 
 deeply set beneath a high and overhanging brow, which mtght 
 make his frown as dark and terrible, as his smile was sweet and 
 pleasing. And this man this gentle and mild-looking person, 
 was Cauales, the Ranchero he whose name is so dreaded on 
 the Texan borders he who is a terror to the whole country 
 where he ranges. 
 
 By a small fire close in front of the thatch where he sat, stood 
 a very large, gray-headed negro, occupied in stirring the con 
 tents of an iron pot, which hung above the fire, with an old 
 bayonet lifting, ever and anon, a huge piece of meat to the 
 light, as if to see whether it yet was done. The negro was full 
 six and a half feet high, had n frame powerful in proportion, 
 and his face was singularly expressive of character. He was 
 armed much like the rest; yet his position and occupation 
 showed him to be the body servant of Canales. The latter was 
 seated, as we have described, beneath his thatch shed, smoking 
 a cigaretta casting a careless look, now and then, over his camp, 
 and occasionally looking up and down the river. 
 
 When the sun went down, he arose to his feet, and taking a 
 bugle from the ground by his side, blew one single, long call. 
 The moment this was heard, the whole encampment ranged in 
 line before his camp fire, without their horses. Canales passed 
 along, glancing at every man, as if to note both his person and 
 accoutrements the men, as he passed, giving the soldier's 
 salute ; the officers raising their swords in the usual way. 
 
 The inspection over, the line was broken, and the night 
 guard having been detailed, the rest of the force gathered again 
 to the vicinity of their camp fires, to partake of their rude 
 suppers. The guerrilla chief retired to his camp, and the large 
 negro removed the iron pot from the fire, and placing a portion 
 of its contents in u wooden tray, set them without a word 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 27 
 
28 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 horse, the first care being to feed and dress their animals, and 
 prepare them for service. The girths alone were loosed, and 
 the bit removed, while from bags hung over their heads each 
 Ptred ate his allowance of corn; and then each rider, replacing 
 saddle and bit, rode his horse girth deep into the river, giving 
 him water and bathing his limbs at the same time. All of this 
 was done under the personal supervision of the chief, who paid 
 particular attention to the manner in which the giant negro 
 attended to a large gray gelding, of swift and powerful build, 
 which had been standing close by the chieftain's resting place. 
 
 The horses all attended to, and once more fitted for immedi 
 ate service, the men gathered around their fires to give heed to 
 their own wants. While they were thus engaged, the negro, 
 who kept ever near unto Canales, hung his iron kettle over the 
 fire; but ere he could prepare its contents, his master, in a low, 
 musical tone, such as he ever used in his hours of calmness, 
 called him: 
 
 "Matteo here!" 
 
 The negro answered not, but in an instant bounded to his 
 master's side, with a step wondrously light and agile for one of 
 his bulk and build. 
 
 "Matteo, Koberto has been gone into camp seven days. I 
 fear something has happened to him !" 
 
 " Maybe, yesmaybe. No rangers thick on Camargo trail, 
 like wolf in prairie, but my boy got eye like eagle, nose like 
 hound, ear like weasel, can hide like a snake in de grass !" 
 responded the negro, speaking in good English, which was also 
 the language used by his master in addressing him; and then 
 he grinned an attempt at a smile, and added: 'If Yankees 
 catch him, de little debbil'll fool 'em like possum!" 
 
 The chief answered not, but seemed buried in thought for a 
 moment; then springing to his feet, he gave a shrill whistle, at 
 the sound of which the men all started to their feet. Beckoning 
 one of them to him, he said, speaking now in Spanish: 
 
 " Pass the word for the men to prepare to mount ; I've a ride 
 for them to-day. Let each look well to his arms, and mount 
 with the bugle call, when I sound it!" 
 
 The soldier turned away to obey the order, but had not 
 passed three steps when the sound of galloping hoofs was 
 heard coming up along the river's pebbly bank, and the next 
 little half-naked negro boy, mounted on a small but 
 mustang pony, dashed into the camp. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 29 
 
 " Dere he be, de blessid little debbil, Massa Harry. Dere lie 
 be, my little Bob !" cried the huge negro, as with a look of 
 pleasure he pointed toward the new comer. " What for you 
 been so lazy ? why for you been gone so long ?" 
 
 The young negro, who could not be over fifteen or sixteen 
 years of age, though having a face expressive of great intelli 
 gence, paid no attention to Matteo, who was his father, but 
 springing, or rather tumbling a back somerset off his pony, 
 lighted at the feet of the guerrilla chief, and in language entirely 
 different from his father's thick and broken words, said: 
 
 " I've come back, master." 
 
 "Well, what news ?" 
 
 "Monterey is taken soldiers coming into the country thick 
 as fleas in dog days saw some this morning counted them- 
 Only fifty to take care of thirty wagons !" 
 
 " Monterey taken !" 
 
 " Yes, master great many men killed all the rest of our side 
 give up or run away !" 
 
 " Did you go to the Riconada, where I sent you?" 
 
 " No, master had no occasion to go there. I saw my young 
 mistress in Monterey !" 
 
 "At Monterey? what do you mean ? What did she there?" 
 
 " Showed men how to fight ; mounted a horse with lance in 
 hand, and led them on to battle I" 
 
 " What, Edwina thus peril herself for her adopted country ! 
 Has she met with harm ?" 
 
 " No, master ; when the rest gave up she went back to the 
 Riconada! She wouldn't stay to see the disgrace of eleven 
 thousand yielding to five thousand men, and giving up a fortified 
 town. She sent this letter." 
 
 The young negro took from inside of his raw-hide boot a 
 small package, which he handed to Canales. The latter hastily 
 opened it, and from his muttered soliloquy as he read it, its 
 import could be gathered. " Monterey has yielded our brother 
 is with the Urrea I shall now go back to the Riconada. Your 
 troops could be of use here to annoy the provision trains." 
 
 " Yes," exclaims the chief, aloud, as he read this passage. 
 " You said you had passed a train this morning, Roberto. 
 Where was it?" 
 
 " Only a few miles below. They have landed high up, and 
 are taking the upper route to Scrralvo !" 
 
80 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "Then we must overhaul them! I will capture them, and 
 then move on to the south I" 
 
 The chief blew a single bugle note, and in a moment each horse 
 had a rider each rider held his lance in his hand. The large 
 negro led the iron gray up to his master's side. The latter felt 
 both girth and stirrup leather; then with a light bound, un aided 
 by stirrup, threw himself upon the back of the noble animal, 
 and rode along the line already formed by his men. Meantime 
 the cooks of the encampment had hurriedly lashed the few 
 kettles of the camp over the back of the pack mule that stood 
 near, and the camp of the raiicheros was broken up the troops 
 all ready for the march. 
 
 " Roberto, you must ride ahead, and scout for us ! You are 
 small, and can evade pursuit, or lull suspicion !" said the general 
 to the little negro. 
 
 The latter smiled, as if pleased with this duty, and dashed off 
 in the direction by which he had come. 
 
 " Dat's a great boy, if he is little," said the giant negro, smil 
 ing with two-thirds of his face open, as he saw the young imp 
 dash off; and then seeming to recollect himself, he added, witli 
 a'bigh : " I beiebe me our massa forgot to eat our breakfus ! It 
 aint such times now as it was when we lived up in old Shelby 
 in de Gorin settlements. Ah, dem was times ! I nebber larn to 
 like de rancheros nebber; and dat Bob, he's jest fallin' into 
 their ways as if he didn't come of 'spectable fadder. I wonder 
 why my massa couldn't ha' gone summer's else dan dis !" 
 
 Thus muttering and growling, the old negro followed close 
 after his master and the troop, who rode leisurely down the 
 river bank. We will leave them here, and return to other 
 characters in our story, and see how fares it with them. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 31 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 AN ATTACK. A BATTLE. A RESCUE. ' 
 
 ALL of the night at the commencement of which he set out, 
 did Captain Blakey and his little band ride rapidly on, under 
 the guidance of a Mexican, who, recreant to all feelings of 
 honor or principles of patriotism, was serving his country's foe 
 for gold. The light of the young bright moon made their path 
 almost as clear as if day was theirs, while the very fact of its 
 being night, made their journey safe from meeting with other 
 parties. 
 
 It was the orders of Blakey to travel only in the night, in 
 order to make his reconnoissance more secret; therefore, as the 
 dawn of day began to cast a grayer light across the moonlit 
 earth, he turned a little aside from the main road into a thick 
 chapparal, which was well suited for his purpose of conceal 
 ment. The guide, who seemed well to know every inch of 
 the country, led him into a little ravine a few rods back from 
 the thicket, where a fine stream of water and a little prairie of 
 grass afforded that which most was needed for a day camp 
 forage for the horses, on which while feeding they would remain 
 quiet. 
 
 Before the sun arose, Blakey and his command were excel 
 lently well quartered for the day, and he with the guide haying 
 carefully effaced all traces of their entrance into the chapparal, 
 felt perfectly secure until the return of night would permit him 
 to resume his route. 
 
 The men soon lay down to prepare by sleep for the night's 
 toil, but Blakey, not having all confidence in the honesty of his 
 guide, remained on the watch, to look occasionally at the horses 
 which were tethered in the little prairie; then, in company 
 with the guide, passing out to the verge of the chapparal to 
 glance along the road. The " eight weeks' truce " which had 
 been agreed upon at the capitulation of Monterey were yet in 
 
32 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 effect; therefore he had no occasion to act on the offensive in 
 this scout, and though he saw several small parties of Mexicans 
 pass close to his ambuscajde, he gave no sign of his presence. 
 Thus passed the day his men and horses resting, he watching. 
 When the sun was about an hour high, he awoke his men and 
 bade them dress and re-saddle their horses ; also to prepare 
 their supper, intimating that he should start as soon as darkness 
 came on. 
 
 While they were doing this, he returned alone to the load- 
 M.U>. At the moment that he reached the edge of the chapparal, 
 standing in a spot where he was hidden from the road by 
 bushes, and yet could see all that passed upon it, he was made 
 aware of the approach of a party, by the neighing of horses, and 
 the clattering of iron along the rocky way. Peering cautiously 
 forth, he saw that it consisted of a Mexican officer, two ladies, 
 and a small escort often or twelve soldiers, all mounted. 
 
 The officer was a young, boyish-looking fellow, who rode 
 between the two ladies, gaily singing some lively catch, which 
 kept one of his fair companions in a roar of laughter much more 
 musical than his song. This lady, whose face was turned 
 toward our hero, as she turned herself toward the young officer, 
 was very beautiful ; her figure slight and fairyher position as 
 she rode, elegant. 
 
 Blakey did not feel it in his heart to disturb the gaiety of this 
 little party, and they were passing on quietly, when a crash 
 caused by the breaking of a rotten branch, upon which he was 
 loaning, caused them to look hastily toward- the spot where he 
 stood. 
 
 Then for the first time did he see the face of the other lady, 
 and to his surprise recognized in her the heroine of Monterey- 
 she who had claimed the name of Edwina Canales. He moved 
 not, nor spoke, after the branch broke, and was so completely 
 hidden in the foliage of the chapparal that they saw him not. 
 The young officer, remarking that an armadillo, or something 
 of the kind, was in the wood, resumed his song, and the party 
 passed on. 
 
 The eye of Blakey followed his heroine now, in her own 
 dress, far more beautiful than before and we need not add 
 that his heart was with his eye. There was something so noble 
 and exalted in her patriotism something so queenly in her 
 transcendent beauty-that his enthusiastic and romantic spirit, 
 could not withstand it. He was in love in love with a foe ! 
 
THE VOLUNTEEH. 33 
 
 He had scarcely glanced at the other lady not even looked 
 the officer in the face after seeing his heroine therefore had no 
 chance to note the twinlike resemblance between the sister and 
 tin* brother, ere they passed on. 
 
 " Where can they be going," said he to himself, " with so 
 small an escort? Surely they are imprudent, for the country 
 is lilled with scouts which little will regard a truce flag when 
 their breasts are burning with revenge for lost comrades. Did 
 not their route lay directly contrary to mine, I should hover in 
 their rear, and joy to protect that strange and beautiful girl." 
 
 When the last lance-pennon that fluttered above the escort 
 of the Mexican party had passed from his view, Blakey returned 
 to his men, who had now saddled theiMiorses, and were nearly 
 ready for their inarch. Mounting his own powerful black, the 
 mate of which he had seen but the moment before, Blakey cast 
 an inspecting glance along his little line, to see that all was 
 ready for the march. The sun was now sinking behind the 
 trees, and night was gathering in its quiet and gloom. 
 
 Suddenly, from the northward, up the road in the direction 
 just taken by the party whom Blakey had seen, came a rattling 
 volley of musketry then, quick as the thunder when lightning 
 has left the cloud, a yell like that of the wild Camanche was 
 heard. The sound had scarcely reached the ear of Blakey, 
 when he drove his spurs into the flank of his noble horse, and 
 while the animal reared with pain, pointed to the road, shout 
 ing " follow me ! follow me !" Then giving a loose rein to his 
 steed, he dashed through the thick forest. His men needed no 
 second command their horses, too, felt spurs in their flanks, 
 as, with loosened reins, they bounded on. A moment more, 
 and Blakey had gained the road; swift as the cloud which cur 
 tains the hurricane, on he sped, still hearing an occasional shot, 
 and the wild, fearful yells which told of the death struggle 
 which was going on. 
 
 In a few moments he arrived in sight of a cloud of dust, 
 which he knew shrouded the combatants, and though as he 
 looked behind he saw that he had far distanced all his men, still 
 he drove his noble courser on. Nor was his speed retarded 
 when he heard a piercing shriek come from the distant scene, 
 and a moment afterward a riderless steed a horse coal black 
 as his own came dashing up the road. As the horse came 
 near, it neighed. The neigh was returned by his own, and in <i 
 moment the flying courser wheeled and joined his, dashing 
 
34 *HB VOLUNTEER. 
 
 down toward the dust cloud, where now was heard no more 
 the sound of gun and pistol. But yet the quick clash of steel 
 showed that all was not over. 
 
 On into the cloud of dust rode Blakey, and as he reached it, 
 his horse bounded over a group of dead bodies. The next sight 
 he saw was one over which he had not time to shudder it was 
 the fallen form of the young officer, who lay, partly shielding 
 with his form the body of the younger maiden, yet helpless and 
 wounded. 
 
 Upon one knee, above him, was Edwina Canales, her eye 
 flashing with anger, defending with her brother's sword his 
 body, and protecting herself from the fierce attack of Gorin, 
 the Texan ranger, who in a moment more must have crushed 
 down hef feeble guard. But with one wild shout Blakey 
 dashed in upon him, striking him in the face with the heavy 
 basket hilt of his sabre with a force sufficient to lay him sense 
 less upon the earth. 
 
 The rangers, Who from very shame had held back from aiding 
 in their leader's attack upon a woman, would now have sprung 
 upon Blakey, when the latter shouted : 
 
 " Hold back, if ye are men ! Why has your leader broken 
 the truce ? What doth he mean by committing murder ?" 
 
 At the same moment his own men appeared in the back 
 ground, armed with their long Kentucky rifles ; and this, with 
 his speech, saved Blakey from immediate attack. He now 
 turned toward her, whom he had so opportunely saved. 
 
 "Again I owe you my life, senor," said she ; " but I fear you 
 came too late for my poor brother," added she, looking down 
 at the officer by her feet, whose feeble moans showed that he 
 was yet alive. 
 
 " Your brother, lady ? This surely is not Licencio Canales !" 
 
 " No, senor; it is our younger brother, Bonaventura." 
 
 Springing from his horse, Blakey hastily examined his 
 wounds, and responded : 
 
 " He is more stunned by his fall than injured by his wounds, 
 lady. He will be able to ride in an hour. But the ladyis 
 she, too, hurt?" 
 
 4 O, I hope notshe is his betrothed !" 
 
 The fair girl, from whose lips came the shriek which Blakey 
 
 d heard, had only fainted, and now began slowly to recover, 
 
 i*ed by a plentiful application of water from one of the sol- 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 35 
 
 dier's canteens. It was near twilight, and a singular tableau 
 was presented to the spectators. 
 
 In the background stood Gorin's troop of rangers, undecided 
 how to act without their leader, who still lay senseless on the 
 ground near the feet of Blakey; by the side of Blakey, aiding 
 in the restoration of her brother and his betrothed, knelt Ed 
 win a, yet holding iu her hand the sword which she so well had 
 wielded in his defence ; around them stood Blakey's few but 
 faithful followers ; still beyond, lay seven or eight dead Mexi 
 cans, being those of the escort who had been slain in the onset. 
 The rest of them had fled dashing past the Texans, and es 
 caping along the road. The moon arose as the sun went down, 
 and as there was not a cloud between the stars and the earth, 
 the darkness did not much increase with the departure of day. 
 
 The scene now began to change. Anita, recovering from 
 the swoon, opened her great black eyes upon the face of her 
 lover, who was now recovering his consciousness, and looked 
 around with a face expressive of wonder, as if it surprised him 
 to find himself yet alive. 
 
 " How is this, sister, Anita, are ye both alive ? Sir, are we 
 your prisoners ?" 
 
 " No, senor I do not break the flag of truce, but have res 
 cued you from yonder blot upon a soldier's name 1" 
 
 " Yes, brother, this noble officer has twice saved my life ; and 
 now he has added to it by saving me from the bitterest enemy 
 that ever persecuted woman. Do you know that face, Bona- 
 ventura?" 
 
 As she spoke, she pointed towards Gorin, who still lay mo 
 tionless upon the ground. But his countenance was now so 
 covered with blood from the blow which Blakey &id given, 
 that young Canales looked at it without recognition. 
 
 " Then I will tell you, brother it is the murderer of our 
 parents I He who has hunted us as the bloodhound hunts the 
 slave who never has stayed in the hunt save when he thought 
 that we had perished I It is that fiend in human shape, Gorin !" 
 
 " What, and is he yet alive ? He must die !" And as the 
 youth spoke, he raised himself feebly from the earth, and drew 
 a pistol from the holster of his dead horse, which lay beside 
 him. 
 
 The next moment would have finished the career of the 
 ranger, had not Blakey stepped between the young officer and 
 his helpless victim, saying : 
 
86 THE VOLUNTEEK. 
 
 " This mnst not he, sir I I must protect my countryman, and 
 you must wait till you can meet him in a fair field for your 
 revenge, which I doubt not is well founded." 
 
 The very danger lie had been in seemed to have aroused the 
 ranger from his stupor for while Blakey's back was turned, as 
 he interposed to save him, he arose to his feet, and with a quick 
 glance seemed to comprehend the state of affairs. Looking 
 around to where his men were standing, uncertain how to act, 
 he staggered toward them at the same time speaking in a low, 
 bitter tone to Blakey: 
 
 " So, you have dared once more to thwart me and step be 
 tween me and my victims ! Your time has come ! Men, pre 
 pare to charge 1" 
 
 The rangers each drew tighter his rein their sabres had not 
 yet been sheathed. Gorin was helped by one of them to re 
 mount his horse, and now he rode slowly up to within a few 
 paces of Blakey, who had formed his little party in advance of 
 his Mexican charge. When here, he drew his rein, and seeing 
 the determined front of Blakey's force, evinced a desire to 
 parley. With a voice forcedly calm, he addressed Blakey. 
 
 " Captain Blakey, I have no wish to have any difficulty with 
 you, but I demand from you my prisoners, whom you have 
 taken into charge without authority." 
 
 " Captain Gorin is aware that the eight weeks' truce has not 
 expired, and that he has no right to break it. This officer and 
 these ladies are not prisoners they are under my protection, 
 now. You had no right to attack them." 
 
 " Right? Preach you of right? I'll soon show that might 
 Is right here. Once more I demand them of youand refuse 
 me at your peril !" 
 
 " Peril or no peril, I will do my duty!" cried Blakey. " If 
 you reach them, it will be over my body. Stand firm, men ! 
 Cover each a man with your rifles, but leave the wretch who 
 leads them to me," added he to his own followers. 
 
 Gorin was about to give the word. He had already bent 
 forward in his saddle, when the full blast of several bugles came 
 sweeping up the road, and then followed a heavy clattering of 
 hoofs, while could be seen an immense body of horsemen riding 
 
 t full speed from the northward. Gorin paused in giving the 
 
 ler, for he saw that the flag of Mexico waved in the moon- 
 ns over the advancing party, who were at least a full regi- 
 
THE VOLUNTEEK. 37 
 
 ment, and lie was now willing enough to let the truce protect 
 him if it could. 
 
 In another moment both of the small parties were surrounded 
 by the larger, from which a group of officers immediately rode 
 out, approaching the spot where Blakey stood. At their head 
 was a short, dark-skinned, corpulent little man, whose eye 
 glanced quickly over the scene. As the younger of the ladies 
 saw him, she screamed, with a wild, glad tone, "it is my 
 father !" and bounding forward, raised her lips to his own, as 
 he bowed low from his fiery war steed. 
 
 " My general," said young Canales, " behold the saviour of 
 your daughter, my sister and myself!" at the same moment 
 pointing to Blakey, who unconsciously, perchance, had grasped 
 the not withdrawn hand of Ed win a. 
 
 " I have him to thank, then. But who was it that attacked 
 you ? Is this the way the Americans keep their faith ? is there 
 no safety under their flag of truce ?" said Urrea, bitterly for 
 this was no other than that general. 
 
 " There is no honor in yon disgrace to our army, general ; 
 but he shall pay dearly for this villany a court-martial shall 
 have cognizance of the affair, as soon as I return to camp." 
 
 " It will be well if they but hang him," replied the other. 
 Then turning to his daughter and companions, he added : "I 
 had feared to find you all slain. I met the fugitives of your < 
 party, who told me that you were surrounded and cut to 
 pieces." 
 
 "So would we have been, had not this noble officer risked 
 his own life to save us," replied young Canales; and then added 
 " Even now you came only in time to prevent yon wolf from 
 attempting to wrest us from our protector's hand." 
 
 Urrea turned toward where Gorin and his band sat upon 
 their horses, and while his dark brow grew darker with anger, 
 he cried : 
 
 " Begone, sir ! Do not remain here to tempt me to break the 
 truce, and to hang you with your own halters. You can pass 
 free now, but be beyond my hearing in ten minutes, or I will 
 take justice in my own hands, and save future trouble." 
 
 Gorin seemed to know that this was neither time nor place 
 to dally, and turning his rein, first speaking in a tone of mild 
 bitterness to Blakey " I ride back to inform upon traitors, and 
 to prepare your gibbet 1" rode away with his men. Bark and 
 ominous was the villain's look as he made this threat, but it had 
 
38 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 no effect upon Blakey, who knew that he had done his duty, 
 both as a man and a soldier. 
 
 That night these Americans and Mexicans separated with 
 different feelings than either had yet possessed during the war 
 each having a higher estimate of the other than they had 
 before. Urrea encamped near where the skirmish had taken 
 place Blakey passed on upon his duty. Neither he nor Ed- 
 wina Canales had been for a moment alone ; yet they had stood 
 hand in hand together, and when Gorin made his last threat, 
 he had felt her hand tremble, as if she had not only understood 
 the threat, but felt for his danger. He knew not that she loved 
 him he knew that he did love her, and in this state we will 
 leave him. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GENEBAL TAYLOR AND THE FALSE ACCUSATION. 
 
 Ox the same day which in our fifth chapter the reader has 
 found opening with the march of Canales and his rude ranch- 
 eros from his camp, along a road not more than fifteen miles 
 from that camp, a wagon train was wending its way slowly 
 toward the American army, bearing provisions and ammunition 
 for use. A small guard of dragoons were riding in advance, 
 soldiers not of the reguiar army, but a detachment from a Ten 
 nessee regiment of cavalry. There was but one officer in charge, 
 and he was such an odd character that we think him worth 
 describing. 
 
 He was a bow-legged, thin slab of a man, built very like a 
 crooked-neck squash, with a small head, superabundant with 
 hair, and apparently superabundant with nothing else. He rode 
 a large, quiet looking horse, which required a constant applica 
 tion of the spur to keep him on the move, and rode him as much 
 like a pair of tongs slung across the saddle, as one can imagine. 
 
 His men were many of them fine, daring-looking fellows, who 
 not only sat on their horses well, but handled their weapons as 
 If they knew how to use them. The train moved slowly along, 
 wUh this leader at their head his men, about fifty in number, 
 carelessly following, not in military order, but just as the fancy 
 of each suited him. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. S9 
 
 Two or three times did the sergeant, who was evidently an 
 old soldier, ride up alongside of the officer, and mention that it 
 would be better to keep in file ; but each time his commander 
 replied, with an air of dignity : 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself, sergeant! This isn't my first 
 campaign. When I was in the Florida war " 
 
 " But, Captain Bilbo, this isn't the Florida war, nor the Florida 
 country," replied the other. 
 
 "But it is very Hike it, sir, and I'm not afraid of a surprise; 
 the country is open, very like the Florida country." 
 
 " Not so many hollow logs in it, sir," said the sergeant; and 
 there was a quiet chuckle heard after he used this expression. 
 
 We know not what he 'meant by the " hollow logs," but the 
 captain seemed to dislike the allusion, for he turned exceedingly 
 red in the face, and replied : 
 
 " I wish you'd go to the rear, sir, and see how the train keeps 
 together." 
 
 "I thought I'd touch him," said the sergeant, inaudibly, as he 
 rode off to obey the order. " His Florida campaign sounds very 
 well when I'm not alongside of him ; I think he'll not speak of 
 it often when I'm about, though." 
 
 As the sergeant fell back, the captain turned to a soldier who 
 rode near him a fellow who with a thin, peaked face, eyes like 
 two half-ripe seeds in a rotten water-melon, and a form more 
 short, but exceedingly like that of the officer, looked to be a 
 bird somewhat of the same feather and remarked: 
 
 " This is tiresome work,Trabou worse than gulling the folks 
 at home into the idea that our patriotism alone led us into the 
 scrape. I'd rather stay there and preach law, by all odds, if 
 the pay was only half as good." 
 
 " Yes, cnptain and all I wish is, that my year was out. I 
 didn't think we'd ever have a chance to get into a real fight 
 here, when I started." 
 
 " O, I did, or I wouldn't have come !" responded the other, 
 pompously. " When I was in Florida O, Lord! what's that?" 
 
 And the brave captain's face turned pale, as he heard the 
 shrill blast of a bugle sounding from the head of a ravine through 
 which they had just passed, and in which the train was now 
 completely shut in. At the same moment, a body of cavalry 
 dashed frwn upon them at full speed. 
 
 The captain looked around; there was no chance to run and 
 yet he gave no order ! But his men, without waiting for orders, 
 
40 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 poured in an irregular fire upon the enemy, which, though it 
 did not check their charge, tumbled some of them from their 
 saddles. In a moment the lancers were down upon them, and 
 as they were not in ranks, or in any way prepared to receive 
 them, the Americans were in a moment scattered some of 
 them disramed, many of them slain. The action, if such it could 
 be called, did not last more than a minute ; the few Americans 
 who resisted, were slain ; all who could had escaped, and fore 
 most among the latter, was the officer in charge. 
 
 We need only say that the attack was made by Canales, and 
 was entirely successful. The whole train fell into his hands, 
 and with it he hurried to the southward, to endeavor to join the 
 western division of the army under Urrea which he knew to be 
 in need both of ammunition and stores. 
 
 We will now change again our scene. It was only two days 
 after Gorin had set forth from the camp, when he again made 
 his appearance there, bearing the mark of some severe usage in 
 his bandaged head and scarred face. Two of his men had also 
 fallen in the affray which we have described. He instantly re 
 paired to the quarters of General Taylor, who saw with surprise 
 that he had been wounded, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, sir, what news ? You seem to have been in a scrape ?" 
 
 " Yes, general and one that nearly became fatal to me, and 
 has cost me two brave men." 
 
 " How, sir ? Explain. Where is Blakey ?" 
 
 " I left him with General Urrea and the black-eyed lady of 
 whom I told you before I left. He is, I expect, enjoying himself, 
 now, as I left him on excellent terms with the enemy." 
 
 "What, sir? I must see into this. How did you get 
 wounded ?" 
 
 "I was attacked by a small body of Mexicans, but repulsed 
 them with a loss of eight or ten killed and had three taken 
 prisoners, when Blakey came up, and interfering, rescued them 
 from me, backed up by General Urrea and a whole regiment of 
 lancers." 
 
 " What! acted against you in co-operation with the enemy? 
 I cannot believe it." 
 
 " Summon my men, sir! Have him arrested, and see if he 
 will dare deny it!" 
 
 " I fear it will be hard to arrest him, if he has gone over to 
 the enemy." 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 41 
 
 "He has not gone over to them permanently. His act, he 
 says, is sanctioned by the truce." 
 
 " Was not the truce first broken by them ?" And the general 
 eyed the ranger sternly, as he spoke. 
 
 " Yes, they made the attack, sir !" replied the villain, with 
 unblushing effrontery. * 
 
 " Then if Blakey aided them and rescued prisoners taken in 
 that attack, he is a traitor and shall die a traitor's death." 
 
 "Who were those prisoners?" asked an officer who stood 
 beside the general. 
 
 " One was a captain the brother of Canales ! The others I 
 did not know," was the response of Gorin. 
 
 " The brother of Canales ! And was he thus taken in arms 
 and permitted to escape ? This is too bad ! he was an impor 
 tant prisoner; his brother is more to be feared than Santa Anna 
 himself. Those rancheros, like the guacheros of Buenos Ayres, 
 can live forever in the saddle, and they are as brave as they are 
 hardy." 
 
 At this moment an orderly hastened up to the general and 
 presented him a packet, saying, as he handed it " Despatches 
 for the general, from Camargo!" 
 
 The chief hastily opened them, and as he read, his brow 
 darkened with anger. 
 
 " So," he cried, " this truce is to be broken on all sides ! A 
 wagon train is taken by this same Canales, and several of the 
 guard killed. If they will break the truce, let the consequences 
 be on their own head !" 
 
 The general paused a moment and looked around, as if to see 
 some officer; and as his eye fell upon one who was busily 
 engaged in writing on a barrel-head near, he cried: 
 
 " Major Bliss, I want you!" 
 
 The officer started to his feet, and joined the general. 
 
 " Major, order out McCullough's rangers all of 'em and 
 tell him to go and find Cauales, and to give him Jessie, wher 
 ever he catches him !" 
 
 " While the truce is in force, general ?" 
 
 "Yes there's no truce for hi ml He's broken it, and may 
 swallow the consequences. And while I think of it, order the 
 arrest of Captain Blakey, Kentucky Volunteers, for treason 
 charges preferred by Captain Gorin." 
 
 " Captain Blakey on a charge of treason, General!" exclaimed 
 
42 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 not a braver man, or a better soldier, attached to your army, or 
 out- more devoted to his country!" 
 
 " Then, sir, his trial will do him no harm," responded the old 
 general, hastily. 
 
 "But, sir, Captain Gorin is his private enemy; his hostility is 
 personal," added Bliss, earnestly. 
 
 "I deny it it is not so, major!" said Gorin, hastily, but 
 reddening as he spoke. " We had words once, but the aftair 
 was settled long ago." 
 
 "What was it about, sir?" asked the general. And again 
 his stern glance was bent searchingly upon the villain. 
 " Only some trifling talk at the mess-table," was the reply. 
 "Again bespeaks falsely!" said Bliss. "The quarrel was, 
 that Gorin, in the capture of Monterey, tried to slay a woman, 
 and was prevented by Blakey." 
 
 " Was this the trifling matter of which you speak so carelessly ? 
 If you arc one who considers it a trifling matter to ill treat a 
 woman, I shall be careful how I take your word in other mat 
 ters. You will remain at camp, sir, and not go forth with your 
 colonel. I wish to confront you with Blakey and if you have 
 misinformed me here, it shall cost you your commission?" said 
 the general, sternly. 
 
 Major Bliss now left to convey the orders of the general, and 
 Gorin slunk also away, not very well pleased at the result of 
 his interview. On arriving at his tent, he found his negro, as 
 usual, asleep. Giving him a few hearty kicks, to remind him of 
 his return, he succeeded in awakening the servant, to whom he 
 shouted : 
 
 " Wake up, you black dog wake up !" 
 
 " Yes, massa cap'n Gabe's awake!" exclaimed the negro, as 
 he slowly raised himself into a sitting posture. 
 " Get up then get up and get me some grog !" 
 " Yes, massa cap'n, I will only it's all gone." 
 "All goDo, you bloody nigger! What do you mean? I left 
 ten gallons :n that cask there !" said Gorin, pointing to a cask 
 at the back of his tent. 
 
 " Yes, massa cap'n, but soger tief come and bore um hole in 
 de cask, behind de odder eend, and let out all de red eye." 
 
 " Perdition I Fooled and cheated on all sides ! But I've got 
 you yet, you bloody thief! why didn't you keep awake and 
 watch it?" cried the enraged officer, dtirtins: upon the poor 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 43 
 
 black, and administering blows heavy enough to fell an ox, on 
 his head and shoulders. 
 
 The poor fellow was now thoroughly awakened, and bound 
 ing to his feet, made for the door of the tent, out of which he 
 was springing, when he came butt up against a person who was 
 about tu enter, and both met with a concussion which laid each 
 upon the flat of his back. 
 
 " Golly gosh ! What a thumper dat be !" cried the negro. 
 
 " Caramba ! Mil diablos !" shouted the other, as soon as he 
 could regain his breath ; and then Gorin recognized the voice 
 of Vicentio, his Mexican guide. 
 
 " Well, what do you want here? Our expedition has failed 
 she lives yet. What more do you want ?" cried Gorin, as he 
 saw the man who stood before him. 
 
 " You pull a spider's web to pieces once, twice even three 
 times, and he spins it again and catches his game!" responded 
 the Mexican. " Do you give up because you have failed once ?" 
 
 "No, I'll be burned if I do! But what can be done now? 
 She is safe with Urrea." 
 
 " Safe !" and the assassin laughed as he repeated the word. 
 " Safe ! were she in the centre of ten thousand times his force, 
 she would not be safe if I were after her. But you do not want 
 her slain?" 
 
 " No, not if she can be brought to me alive; but if not, let her 
 die. Her brothers must die !" . 
 
 " Why do you hate them so ?" And again the Mexican's 
 eyes expressed that singular look of curiosity which we noted 
 in his first interview with Gorin. 
 
 " That is my business ; they are old enemies of mine, and they 
 must be got rid of. But I'm tired to-night; come tomorrow, 
 and I'll see you on this matter. Your pass, as my guide, will 
 pnss you safely through the camp." 
 
 Without answering, the Mexican left the tent, and Gorin, be 
 stowing another kick on the negro, who had again gone to 
 sleep without arising from the spot where he had been knocked 
 down, turned to his grass hammock, which hung at the back of 
 his tent, and lying down, was soon in a state as comfortable as 
 that of the negro. 
 
44 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAATER YIII. 
 
 URBEA IN HIS " BAG OF FLOWEKS." 
 
 ONE of the loveliest spots in the world, I think, is a little 
 valley or basin in the mountains, a short way to the south of 
 Presquera, called by the natives of that portion of Mexico, 
 " El Bolsa de Flares," or, the bag of flowers. Well and aptly 
 was it named, for here flowers ever bloomed the orange, liine, 
 agricarte, clabella and magnolia vied in their rich hues and 
 varied perfumes; while the banks of a rapid little brook were 
 shaded by tall forest trees, whose roots afforded hiding-places 
 for thousands of silver-scaled fishes, which drew beneath their 
 shade whenever the face of man was mirrored in the waters. 
 
 The valley was small ; it might be half a mile square, perhaps, 
 and save in spots where little groves had sprung up, was covered 
 with fine green grass, which, like an embroidered carpet was 
 interspersed with beautiful flowers. On all hands, save at the 
 narrow entrance, the gray mountains rose in rugged majesty 
 their upper cliffs so mingling with the clouds, that the uplook- 
 ing eye could not distinguish between them. The lower part 
 of the mountains was covered with vines and shrubbery, but as 
 the height increased, so more bare became the rocks, until all 
 was naked, cold, desolate. 
 
 Pardon the digression, reader; but is it not thus with rising 
 man, sometimes nay, often ? While he is lowly, his heart is 
 full of the flowers of beauty and goodness; but as he rises in 
 wealth and fame, as he begins to become elevated among his 
 fallows, the flowers fade and wither. The higher he gets, the, 
 colder grows his atmosphere, until at last, like the cold, gray 
 barren mountain side, he stands alone, in his lofty grandeur, 
 without one warming principle in his bosom; majestic, but 
 lu-arth-ss; grand, but not pleasing; in short, a very monument 
 of ingratitude. 
 
 But returning to our scene the valley was chosen by General 
 TJrrea for his head-quarters, and here, a few days after we last 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 45 
 
 He had chosen it, because its narrow entrance could be easily 
 guarded from surprise, and easily defended from attack, and also 
 because water and pasture were convenient, and a good place 
 afforded for drilling his troops. Here he erected his standard, 
 from here he sent forth his recruiting officers, with orders to 
 use every endeavor to collect men, so that once more he might 
 take the field against the enemy. 
 
 He had a few tents, but the greater part of his force biv 
 ouacked iu the open air, which is little hardship in a. clime so 
 mild and genial as that. In one of these tents Anita Urrea 
 and Edwina Canales were quartered, and near there was the 
 stately marquee of the general. Edwina had not again resumed 
 her male attire, although she still held her commission in the 
 regular army. This may appear singular to many of our read 
 ers ; but there have been many instances of the kind, one of 
 which we will mention : The wife of President Gamarra, of 
 Peru, not only held a colonel's commission in the cavalry, but 
 repeatedly led her regiment into action, and greatly distin 
 guished herself for skill and bravery. 
 
 We will look into the tent of which we have just spoken, and 
 see how the daughter and sister of warriors dwell ; perchance 
 some of our boudoir-loving readers will shudder, but if they do, 
 we can't help it. The tent was set upon a soft carpet of grass, 
 which, as its long green blades had been trampled down, gave 
 up a perfume like that of new-mown hay. Its furniture con 
 sisted of a bed made of the same kind of grass, covered with 
 three or four ponchos, or Mexican blankets ; the saddles of the 
 two ladies were used by them as seats, and a couple of small 
 military valises probably contained their wardrobe. A large 
 gourd of water hung by the tent post, and this probably was all 
 of the material with which their toilet was provided. Their 
 mirror might have been the eddies of the glassy brook whose 
 murmuring reached their ears; none other was in sight. And 
 yet we have seen city girls dressed far more slovenly than they, 
 as there they eat conversing upon the past and about the future. 
 
 "And so you do not now feel willing to acknowledge that you 
 love the young American, Edwina?" asked Anita. And then, 
 as her companion hesitated to answer, she added: "I'm sure 
 gratitude alone should impel you to love him ! Twice has he 
 saved your life and honor, and indeed he is handsome ! It is 
 well that Bonaventura won my love ere I saw him." 
 
 " Dear Anita, I have other things to think of beside love. I 
 
46 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 have dark and deadly wrongs to avenge and think you I can 
 love a countryman of those who have wronged me and mine ? 
 No I Mexico has gained in our family no common friends we 
 are wedded to her cause, not that we love her, but that we hate 
 her enemies !" 
 
 So wild and vehement was the maiden's manner, as thus she 
 spoke, that Anita started back in surprise, exclaiming : 
 
 " Maldita, ainigo mia! One would think you were a tigress, 
 to hear you talk, instead of the dear, good girl you are. But it 
 is so strange to me that you can avoid falling in love with that 
 young officer. He Is handsome, brave, honorable ; and I am 
 sure he loves you I" 
 
 "What! think you so, indeed?" exclaimed Edwina, with a 
 tone which betrayed an interest she had forgotten to conceal. 
 And then, while her cheeks reddened with blushes, she added : 
 " No, no I I hope not, for his own sake. We shall yet meet as 
 foes { I feel it but too surely, for all things now are dark be 
 fore me." 
 
 " No, not so. Peace will soon come ; you will then meet this 
 hero of yours he will woo you being woman, can be won 
 and then the romance will end, as good novels do, in matrimony 
 and bliss !" 
 
 " Peace !" echoed the other. " Peace ! When will there be 
 peace in this distracted country now? Never, never! The 
 Americans have got a foothold here they have seen how rich 
 and beautiful is the land they invade and think you that now 
 they will give it up ? No, they will not ; nor will the Mexicans, 
 while one drop of Spanish blood runs in their veins, let them 
 rest here. I see nothing but war war to the knife, before us ! 
 Think you that it will be bloodless ? No, the best blood of both 
 nations will run out upon the battle grounds. Neither he nor 
 1 will see the end of this war why should I love him ?" 
 
 "Why, Edwina?" 
 
 "Yes, why?" 
 
 " Because if it had not been for him, both your power of 
 hating and loving had ere this been destroyed." 
 
 " True," replied the other, thoughtfully ; " but let us change 
 the subject." And then the two maidens arose and went forth 
 from the tent. 
 
 As they stepped out beneath the shade of the great tree 
 against which their tent was pitched, a blast of bugles came 
 sweepinsr on tha wind nr, *K ^M ,~j *t 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 47 
 
 of cavalry enter the gorge and come up at a rapid trot. Above 
 them the green and yellow lance permons fluttered, which de 
 noted them to be Mexicans, and as they approached nearer, 
 Edwina's eyes grew brighter, and she cried: 
 
 " It is Licencio, my brave brother!" 
 
 It was indeed he and his wild rancheros ; and as he saw his 
 sister, who stood waving her white scarf, he drove his spurs 
 into his horse's flank, and at full speed dashed up to her side. 
 Without touching stirrup or rein, he bounded to his feet and 
 pressed her tenderly to his breast. 
 
 " My noble sister!" was all that then he said, and her reply 
 " Dear brother !" was equally as expressive of the full heart's 
 affection, which needs no words to tell its depth OF strength. 
 
 As he again pressed his lips to his sister's brow, a hearty, 
 good natured voice at his back caused him to turn anc[ salute 
 General Urrea. The latter advanced, and as he grasped his 
 hand, exclaimed : 
 
 " Welcome, my brave Canales welcoine to my camp! I'd 
 rather see thee here than a hundred lances. Thou alone wert 
 worth them all to me." 
 
 " 1 thank you, general," replied the other, and was about to 
 say more, when a young officer, who had been writing, as the 
 pen in his hand indicated, in the tent of the general, rushed 
 out, exclaiming: 
 
 " Surely I heard my brother's voice! O, Licencio, have you 
 come ?" 
 
 The embrace of the brothers was even as warm as had been 
 that of the sister and brother, and it was moments before the 
 conversation between Urrea and the older Canales was renewed. 
 When it was, they two seated themselves at the trunk of the 
 tree, while the young lovers wandered up along the bank of the 
 little stream. Edwina remained standing near the two former. 
 
 " What force have you here ?" asked Canales of the other, as 
 soon as they were seated. 
 
 "About one thousand, all told; but we are sadly off for pro 
 visions, and our musketeers have not over twenty rounds of 
 ammunition." 
 
 "All this I can remedy." 
 
 " How ? Have you stores ?" 
 
 " Yes, I took a wagon train a short time ago. It will be here 
 to-night." 
 
48 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "That Is good lews, indeed! Canales, in thee our country 
 has a noble friend our foes a bitter enemy." 
 
 ' You flatter me, general." 
 
 "No, sir it is your own actions that flatter you. Your 
 name is heard everywhere." 
 
 "As what ? As an assassin and a robber !" retorted the other ; 
 and his tone was bitter as he spoke. " Yes, I am forced with a 
 paltry band of unpaid, unclothed rancheros, to maintain the 
 dignity of a general's nominal commission. Let the republic 
 give me an army, and then I would soon see if my name might 
 not be linked with more glorious deeds than midnight scouts 
 and petty ambuscades !" 
 
 " It shall be yet, my friend," cried the other, as he warmly 
 grasped the ranchero's hand. " I am now raising an army, and 
 soon, with your help, we'll have a force beside us with which 
 once more we can face the northern foe, and then " 
 
 " You will conquer or die," cried Edwina, who had been 
 breathlessly listening to the conversation. " Say, Licencio, is 
 it not so?" 
 
 ' Yes, sister, so shall it be," replied the other. 
 
 At this instant the attention of the party was attracted by a 
 single Mexican, who, dressed like the common peasantry of the 
 country, but well and heavily armed, rode toward them rapidly, 
 coining from the direction of the open country. 
 
 " It is my spy one whom I keep hovering about the enemy's 
 cainp, to watch his motions," said Urrea, as he saw the rider. 
 
 " I have seen him before, surely," said Canales. " O, yes, it 
 is Vicentio Jarueta one of my old followers, and a good 
 soldier." 
 
 It was indeed Vicentio, whom the reader has already met as 
 a plotter with Gorin. 
 
 Throwing himself from his horse, he bowed low before the 
 generals, and still lower before the lady. 
 
 " Well, what news, good Vicentio?" asked Urrea. 
 
 "Much, senor general. The enemy are getting stronger 
 every day, and preparing to go forward. An advance guard 
 has already gone on to Saltillo." 
 
 " Well, let him go on. He will be easier crushed when he 
 gets among the mountains." 
 
 44 Heard they of the loss of a wagon train before you left?" 
 inquired Canales. 
 
 " Yes, senor, and the loss is heavy to them. The general has 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 49 
 
 despatched a body of rangers after yon, General Canales. He 
 says that you have broken the truce, and has ordered them to 
 take yon, if they can." 
 
 " Which way have they gone ?" asked the guerrilla chief, 
 calmly. 
 
 " To the northward." 
 
 " Then they have gone on a wild goose chase, for I am done 
 with the north at present." 
 
 " Does the general know a Texan named Gorin?" now asked 
 the spy of Canales. 
 
 "Gorin! a flend in human shape! Yes; what of him, and 
 why do you ajsk ?" 
 
 "He has only given me five hundred dollars for promising to 
 kill you !" replied the spy in a calm, quiet tone. 
 
 "And you" T 
 
 " Promised, of course, and got my advance ! I will give him 
 his receipt for it when again we meet. I took his money, gen 
 eral, because I wanted it, and I wanted to know why he hates 
 you so. He is useful to me in the camp. You know me too 
 well to doubt me, or fear that I " 
 
 " I fear nothing, Vicentio," replied the other. " But leave 
 this Gorin to me; I have an account of long standing to settle 
 with him. If he can be taken alive and brought to me, I will 
 well reward you." 
 
 " It shall be done, general," replied the other. 
 
 Then turning to the lady, he added : 
 
 "And you are one, too, whom he hates, lady." 
 
 " I am aware of that, Vicentio," replied the other. And then 
 she seemed about to ask a question, but paused as it was upon 
 her lips. 
 
 " Where is he now has he gone northward with the ran 
 gers ?" asked Canales. 
 
 " No, senor; he is detained as a witness against a captain of 
 Kentucky riflemen, who is accused of treason and of leaguing 
 with you, General Urrea. 
 
 "His name? what is his name? is it he?" cried Edwina, 
 hastily. 
 
 " His name is Blakey, lady," replied the soldier. 
 
 "Accused of treason? This is for rescuing me and your 
 daughter from Gorin's hands!" cried Edwina to Urrea. Then 
 turning to the spy, she asked, " When does his trial ensue? is 
 he in danger?" 
 
50 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " His trial is to come off very soon. Gorin and his men are 
 nee against him, and I heard that his doom was certain," 
 replied the spy. 
 
 " Brother General Urrea, this must not be I" cried Edwina. 
 " This noble man is in peril, for having done his duty as a man 
 in protecting helpless females from insult and death !" 
 
 " What can we do ? He is an enemy. Surely, it is little to 
 us what his doom may be," replied Urrea, calmly. 
 
 " It may be little to you ; it is all to me. I request from you, 
 a letter to General Taylor, describing this whole affair. He 
 shall not be condemned !" cried the excited girl. 
 
 " Who will bear it?" asked the general. 
 
 " Edwina Canales, captain in the army of the republic." 
 
 " My own, my noble sister," cried Canales, who till now had 
 been a silent listener, " I love the generous spirit which prompts 
 this act, but another messenger can be despatched! I like not 
 to have you so exposed." 
 
 " What onewho is there that will be faithful and speedy?" 
 asked she, as her dark, searching eye was bent upon him. 
 
 " Roberto, my body servant. He would die for you or me." 
 
 The maiden paused a moment then seeming contented, 
 said: 
 
 " General, please write that letter for me. I have one to pre 
 pare also. Have Roberto ready, brother ; I will send him in an 
 hour. This Gorin shall meet his match." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE COURT MARTIAL. 
 
 WHKN the spy, Vicentio, said that the trial of Blakey was 
 soon to ensue, and that his danger was imminent, he spoke 
 truly. On the very next morning after the scene in our last, 
 that trial commenced. 
 
 A military court-martial is perhaps one of the most strikin^ 
 
 nes in the world. All of the officers save him who is to be 
 
 ned, are dressed in their full uniforms, their swords by their 
 
 faS and surrounded by military paraphernalia. The prisoner 
 
 is without his weapon. Before each member of the court 
 
 e writing materials; each member wears a still and solemn 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 51 
 
 aspect, for here things are conducted far differently from those 
 courts where a parcel of chattering lawyers, seeming to be 
 afflicted with a diarrhoea of words, fight and squabble over the 
 points of law, as hungry dogs do over some half picked bone. 
 . Here men of honor sit down calmly to investigate and decide 
 upon that which gives to their brother soldier deep and lasting 
 disgrace, or restores to him his doubted honor, that honor 
 winch to a soldier is life, ay, ten thousand times more than life. 
 
 On the occasion to which we refer, the court was composed 
 of the elder officers at head quarters. General Taylor was not 
 present; his duties and inclinations both prevented it. When 
 Blukey was called before the court, his charges were read, spec 
 ifying, among other things of a treasonable nature, that on the 
 night which we have already recorded, he did interfere upon 
 the side of the Mexicans, against his own countrymen, and res 
 cued prisoners of the enemy, who had been taken by American 
 troops in battle, and that he had held treasonable and friendly 
 communication with Urrea, a general in the Mexican army. 
 
 When called upon to answer to this charge, with his eyes 
 flashing indignantly, he answered, " Not guilty!" 
 
 The judge advocate then summoned as a witness to the stand, 
 Captain Gorin, of the Texan Rangers. The witness advanced, 
 his face flushed apparently with excitement, and took the pre 
 scribed oath to give true evidence, in a voice which, though 
 thick and husky, evidently trembled. It seemed strange, too? 
 that he avoided meeting the eye of the prisoner. 
 
 On being sworn, he gave in his evidence thus. He said that 
 he had been ordered by the general-in-chief to follow Blakey, 
 and to observe his motions 
 
 " Stop a moment, if you please, sir. I have a question to ask 
 here," said one of the members, one in whom the reader will be 
 pleased to recognize Major Bliss; " Did you not request Gen 
 eral Taylor to permit you to follow Captain Blakey ?" 
 
 " No, sir," responded the witness, evidently displeased at the 
 interruption. 
 
 "Did you not give some information to General Taylor, 
 which alarmed him in regard to the prisoner, and did you not 
 recommend that he should be followed and watched?" again 
 asked his interrogator, sternly. 
 
 " I told the general of a conversation which I had overheard 
 between the prisoner and a messenger from a fair lady who was 
 with the enemy." 
 
02 TUB VOLUNTEEB. 
 
 " The members will please note this acknowledgment. The 
 witness may now proceed with his story," said Major Bliss, 
 with a tone full of meaning. 
 
 With a voice less confident than before, Gorin now went on 
 to say that, in obedience to his orders, he had set out upon the 
 trail of the prisoner; that on the evening in question, he was 
 attacked by a party of the enemy; that he not only defended 
 himself but slew seven or eight of them, and took three prison 
 ers, one of whom was an officer of importance and a brother to 
 Canales the ranchero ; and that soon after he was himself at 
 tacked by Blakey, who rescued the prisoners from him, and 
 who was closely followed by General Urrea and a whole regi 
 ment of lancers." 
 
 " Who were these prisoners ?" demanded Major Bliss, sternly. 
 
 " Captain Canales, his sister, and a daughter of Gen. Urrea." 
 
 " Who gave you orders to capture women ?" 
 
 " They were in company with the officer." 
 
 " Have you never seen any of them before ?" 
 
 " I saw one of them fighting like a tigress when we took 
 Monterey." 
 
 " Have you no cause of personal enmity to the prisoner?" 
 
 " None in the world, if he be true to our country," replied the 
 hypocritical villain. 
 
 " What has the prisoner to say to this charge and evidence ?" 
 now asked the judge advocate. * 
 
 " That it is partially false !" replied Blakey, calmly. 
 
 "Partially?" echoed Major Bliss; " in what, sir, is it true, 
 and in what false ?" 
 
 " It is true, sir, that on the evening in question I found yon 
 villain maltreating a helpless female; a wounded officer, her 
 
 >ther,lay upon the ground; beside him lay a helpless girl, 
 
 1 Edwina Canales, the heroine of Monterey, was defending 
 
 helpless brother and friend against yon fiend. He, the 
 
 thing who calls himself a man, had raised his arm against a 
 
 nan, ay, had nearly succeeded in crushing her but too feeble 
 
 nee, when I arrived upon the ground. I did strike the 
 
 i to the earth, I did rescue the helpless whom he had 
 
 ;ed. He however speaks falsely when he says that they 
 
 tUackedhim He broke the flag of truce-he with twenty 
 
 en attacked this little band of ten, attacked them, as I know, 
 R TT f deStr * iQ g or <*Pturiug the lady whose name 
 
 ime already mentioned, against whom, I know not how or 
 
THE VOLUNTEEB. 53 
 
 why, he has proved himself a bitter enemy. I met General 
 Urrea, I met him as it becomes a soldier and a man of honor to 
 meet another during a time of truce. Yon varlet was hooted 
 from the presence of the general, hence his jealousy of myself." 
 
 At this moment a messenger came in and whispered some 
 information to Major Bliss. The latter, requesting to be ex 
 cused a moment, left the tent. Meanwhile the court seemed to 
 debate upon the case of the prisoner, and it need not be won 
 dered that some of them were much against him. 
 
 However, after a few moments' absence, Major Bliss returned, 
 and proceeded with the examination. Calling upon the pris 
 oner, he asked : 
 
 " Is there any truth in the statement of the witness, that you 
 received a messenger from the lady, before you started on your 
 scout?" 
 
 " None, upon my honor." 
 
 " Your meeting with her was purely accidental ?" 
 
 " Purely accidental and providential," answered Blakey. 
 
 " Very accidental," said Gorin, with a sneer; "will he say 
 upon his honor that that was the first time he had seen her on 
 that day ?" 
 
 " I had seen her pass my ambuscade on that road not ten 
 minutes before the attack," replied the accused, " but was 
 unseen by her ; when I heard the sound of firing, I followed 
 after them, and arrived in time to rescue her from the unhal 
 lowed grasp of yon wicked villain !" 
 
 " A very likely story, is it not, gentlemen ?" said Gorin, with 
 a sneer, in which, however, he showed too much of his owu 
 feeling to do him any good before the court. 
 
 Major Bliss now turned to him and asked:. 
 
 " What part of Texas do you belong to, Captain Gorin ?" 
 
 " The western." 
 
 " Do your parents reside there?" 
 
 " I have none, sir; they died while I was a babe ; but I don't 
 see what bearing these questions have on this case," replied 
 Gorin, whom the question evidently nettled. 
 
 " It may have a decided bearing on your evidence, sir," re 
 plied Bliss, " and I have yet more to ask. Did you ever know 
 one Helen Vicars, in Texas ?" 
 
 Gorin started as if a serpent had bitten him, when he heard 
 this question, and replied, in an angry tone: 
 
 " I stand here as witness against that traitor, Blakey. I an- 
 
54 TUB VOLUNTEER. 
 
 swer questions regarding his case. None others will I respond 
 to." 
 
 " Sir, you will answer all questions here propounded to you," 
 replied the president of the court, sternly. 
 
 " Again I ask, did you ever know Helen Yicars ?" said Major 
 Bliss. 
 
 " I believe that there was a girl of that name, who resided in 
 my neighborhood some years ago, a girl of bad repute I" replied 
 the other, in a tone of assumed carelessness. 
 
 " Villain ! of whom do you speak ?" said a voice clear as the 
 note of a flute, at the entrance of the tent. Gorin turned pale 
 and trembled from head to foot as he turned and beheld the tall 
 form of Edwina Canales, who, in her maiden's dress, had that 
 moment entered the tent. 
 
 So pure, so queenly and beautiful did she look, that the 
 members of the court involuntarily arose to their feet, and 
 gazed respectfully toward her, while she, with her face lighted 
 up in all the brilliancy of angry excitement, continued : 
 
 " Behold how he trembles as he faces me with a lie yet upon 
 his guilty lips ! I am Helen Vicars I am themaidenwho.se 
 fame he would dare attempt to stain. I am Helen Vicars, and 
 there stands the base murderer of my gray-haired parents ! the 
 attempted murderer of myself and brothers the villain who, 
 failing in all attempts to win my love, became a deadly foe, who 
 has wronged me and miue to the utmost of his power. 
 
 " Now hear my evidence in this case we, that is, my younger 
 brother, Anita Urrea and myself, were riding peaceably along 
 the road, relying upon the truce of eight weeks for our protec 
 tion; we were met by yon villain, attacked, our escort slain, 
 and the result (Heaven only knows what it would have been), 
 I was depending alone upon my weak arm, when that noble 
 American who is now a prisoner before you, rescued us from 
 perhaps a fate worse than death. And now, upon my honor, 
 this and this only was all of treason that can be laid to the 
 prisoner's charge !" 
 
 The court, carried away by the vehemence of her manner, 
 had not looked toward Gorin during her remarks, but now as 
 their eyes turned toward him, they saw him standing there as 
 pale as if death was in his heart. 
 
 44 What have you now to say?" said Major Bliss to Gorin. 
 
 At flrat the deep-dyed villain made no answer, then said in 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 55 
 
 tones so thick and husky that they could be scarcely under 
 stood: 
 
 " She speaks falsely ! She is the sister of Canales." 
 
 " Yes, I am the sister of Licentio Canales, and if you will add 
 the name of Yicars to it, you will have the name of one. whom 
 you knew but too well in Texas. One whom you and your 
 Regulators drove to this country, where even now he might, 
 had it not been for you, have been dwelling in peace on his own 
 soil." 
 
 Every word and look of Gorin now testified his guilt, and the 
 court, disgusted with his unmasked villany, at once put a stop 
 to the proceedings. Blakey's sword was restored to him amid 
 the congratulations of the officers, while the false witness en 
 deavored to slink away and leave the spot. He had, unob 
 served, reached the door of the tent, when a short, thick, plainly 
 dressed officer appeared before him, whose presence seemed 
 anything but agreeable to him. 
 
 " Stand back, sir," said the officer, who held two letters in 
 his hand, and was none other than old Rough and Ready 
 " stand back, sir, I want to look into this matter. Here is a 
 letter from General Urrea, who puts a very different construc 
 tion on your conduct, as also that of Captain Blakey, from 
 which you represent, and here is a letter from a lady, which, if 
 true, makes you a villain that Satan himself would kick out of 
 the infernal regions !" 
 
 Major Bliss, hearing the general's voice, now stepped forward 
 and said : 
 
 " Captain Blakey's innocence has been proved, general, and 
 the crime of perjury is stamped upon yon scoundrel's brow!" 
 
 "Then let him be struck from the roll of the arm} 7 ," replied 
 the noble old general, and while his high brow was clouded 
 with a withering frown, he turned to the villain and said : 
 
 " I give you two hours, sir, to leave my camp. If after that 
 time you are in its borders, beware of the punishment that shall 
 follow." 
 
 Without one word in answer his face black with mortifica 
 tion and anger, the villain turned from the tent. As he stepped 
 out he saw two horses standing there, held by a young negro; 
 one, from the saddle upon it, a courser of jet, symmetrical and 
 beautiful in form, was evidently the steed of the Mexican 1 uly ; 
 the other was the pony always rode by Roberto, the faithful 
 
,-fl Till-: VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The boy grinned as he saw Gorin come forth, with a face so 
 clouded, and by his manner showed that he had seen him be 
 fore. Gorin hastened to his tent, where he found his negro as 
 usual, asleep. With a few kicks he soon brought him to, and 
 astonished him by bidding him pack up his duds and get ready 
 to clear out. 
 
 "Wharbe we gwoin, massa cap'n ?" asked the negro. 
 
 "To perdition, for all I know! come, be lively, pack up my 
 things for a march," replied Gorin, in a fierce tone. 
 
 " Massa go dere if he like, but dis child don't want to," re 
 plied the negro to himself, and hurried to obey his orders. 
 
 Within an hour Gorin had left the camp, no one knowing or 
 oaring which way he bent his steps. His negro was his only 
 friend and companion. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A DECLARATION OF LOVE. 
 
 Wmim an hour after the favorable issue of the trial of 
 Blakey, Edwina Canales was mounted upon her horse prepara 
 tory to returning to the camp of General Irrrea. Blukey having 
 applied for and obtained permission to escort her a short dis 
 tance, was also mounted on the horse which she had presented 
 to him, and together they rode forth, the young negro following 
 at a respectful distance. 
 
 "You must not think me bold or indelicate, senor, for thus 
 venturing to your camp," said the lady. " I heard that you 
 were involved in a difficulty caused by my rescue from that 
 bold, bad man, and I could not refrain from coming to be a 
 witness in your behalf. I first intended only to write and 
 then I thought that it were better for me to go in person." 
 
 " I cannot speak my gratitude, lady; I feel but too much the 
 kindness which has prompted you to take this trouble and risk 
 upon yourself." 
 
 "Speak not of gratitude, senor; it is myself that should most 
 be grateful. Twice have you saved my life" 
 
 " \nd in so doing have only performed my duty as a man." 
 
 u Such duties as few men would have done, senor, and duties 
 that I shall never, never fornet ." renlied the maiilon. wrmlv. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 57 
 
 The young captain now rode on some ways in silence, which 
 was broken by his saying : 
 
 " Were you born a Mexican, lady ?" 
 
 " Yes, senor, I was born in the province of Texas, while the 
 Mexican flag waved over its soil. Yet when the province 
 revolted, we joined not with the Mexican arms we became 
 Texans in the true sense of the word." 
 
 "And why are you now among our enemies ?" 
 
 " Because we have been driven there by wrong and oppres 
 sion." 
 
 " Canales is not your name?" 
 
 "No it was our mother's name we have assumed it here. 
 You have heard my right name; it is Helen Vicars." 
 
 " O, lady, there are many things which I would wish to ask, 
 and" v 
 
 " Which I cannot now answer. My history is strange, too 
 strange for reality, yet I cannot reveal it to you." 
 
 " What have you to do with Gorin ? He seems both to fear 
 and hate you." 
 
 " He has cause to fear me I have cause to hate him. Yet I 
 cannot tell you why, more than that he was once a suitor for 
 my hand. I refused his hateful attentions, and from that time 
 he became an enemy to me and my house. 
 
 " My parents offended him by forbidding his visits he was 
 in command of a party of ' Regulators,' a clan who made them 
 selves the law-givers and enforcers of the country, and he 
 warned us to leave the farm which we owned, in twenty-four 
 hours. My parents would not do this the consequence was 
 that the house was burned over their heads. My father tried to 
 resist he was slain; my mother, too, was killed by a blow 
 which with her own breast she warded off from her fallen, 
 husband's form. My brothers were not at home. I fled on the 
 first attack, and succeeded in escaping and meeting my 
 brothers. We were pursued by this Gorin and his band to the 
 banks of the Neuces. The river at the time was swollen into 
 an immense Hood by the rain, and we attempted to cross it in a 
 frail canoe. The canoe was leaky and rotten, and filled with 
 us in the midst of the foaming, rushing waters. For a time we 
 struggled in the river, my brothers supporting me, drifting out 
 of sight of our pursuers, who, I afterwards learned, thought us 
 drowned. 
 
 " We, however, succeeded in landing on the southern shore; 
 
58 THE VOLU^TEEB. 
 
 and afterwards joined ourselves to a party of rancheros or 
 hrnlsmen, who have become much attached to my brother, and 
 have made him their chosen leader. Thus much, and too much 
 of my history have I revealed to you I can no more." 
 
 " But, lady, this Gorin is now abroad I fear that he will yet 
 seek your life. Would to heaven that I had slain him when we 
 met the other night !" 
 
 " I am glad that you did not. His punishment is for my 
 hand he will yet cross my path." 
 
 " I hope not, lady, for he is a fiendish, cruel foe !" 
 
 " You seem to take a strange interest in my fate, senor." 
 
 " Why should I not, lady ? You are brave anci beautiful ay, 
 more, you are a patriot, such as my soul loves. O, lady, would 
 to God you were not an enemy I" 
 
 " I surely am not your enemy, senor." 
 
 " No yet still are we foes. The banners under which we 
 serve, are flung out upon the breath of the war-storm. Lady, 
 O let me beseech you to retire from a further participation in 
 the war." 
 
 " Why, senor? my brothers are engaged in it, they are ever 
 in danger ; it were worse than death to me not to be near them." 
 
 " Would that I was a brother to you, lady." 
 
 " Why make you that wish, senor ? Perhaps it is better not," 
 said the lady, archly. 
 
 " I make the wish, lady, because I would ever be near to 
 protect and guard you." 
 
 "And yet we are enemies," said the lady, doubtingly. 
 
 " Yes, lady, but I have a remembrance of reading in a very 
 wise and good book, the precept that we must love our enemies." 
 
 "And you would practise the precept ?" 
 
 " In your case, lady, I would. It is useless longer for me to 
 dissemble my feelings. I love I madly, wildly love you !" 
 
 " Senor," responded the lady, sadly, " I am sorry for this. I 
 am proud that you should deem me worthy of your thoughts, 
 but you see how we both are placed it is indeed madness to 
 love me." 
 
 The manner of the lady until now, except when speaking of 
 her history, had been light and gay but now it was sad and 
 mournful. 
 
 " Lady, though it be madness though it were even death, I 
 sannot help it, I love you. O, is my love to be unrequited? 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 59 
 
 must I not hope for love in return? Speak, and let me hope, 
 or crush me with your coldness." 
 
 The hand of the lady trembled, tears rolled silently down her 
 rich-lined cheeks, and though words seemed to tremble on her 
 lips, still she spoke not. She seemed to be stifled with thoughts 
 too heavy for utterance. 
 Again young Blakey spoke: 
 
 " Lady, you surely could not have taken all of this interest in 
 my fate, without some feeling for me. O, say that I possess 
 your love, and yet we will meet in happiness. This war may 
 not last long." 
 
 " It may last longer than either of us shall live," responded 
 the lady ; and then she added, " let us not speak of love now. 
 I am taking you too far from your camp. In yon little ravine 
 ahead of us, my escort awaits me. It is better that we part. 
 It is madness for us, situated as we are, to think of love !" 
 
 " O, not so, lady; if it is, let me be mad. O, set my heart at 
 rest before we part ; either give me hope, or let me know the 
 worst." 
 
 The lady's smile, though still sad, was brighter, as she turned 
 her large, black, tearful eyes toward him. She was about to 
 answer, when the young negro rode rapidly up, and spoke two 
 3r three words in Spanish to her, at the same time pointing to a 
 ; ittle hill, a few rods to their left, on the crest of which sat one 
 Dn horseback, who seemed to regard the movements of the 
 3arty with no common interest. As he saw their eyes turned 
 oward him, he shook his clenched hand toward them, and 
 ieemed as if he was about to ride down and attack them, but on 
 seeing the lady's escort of lancers ride forth, fifty strong, to 
 neet her, he again shook his threatening hand, and dashed off 
 it full speed to the southward. This person was Gorin. 
 
 " You see your enemy and mine," said the lady, as she 
 >ointed toward him. " Beware of him he is cunning treach 
 erous bloodthirsty fiendish in all things." 
 
 " I fear not for myself, lady, but for .you." 
 
 " I can defend myself," replied she, haughtily. " I fear not a 
 ian who treads the earth I" 
 
 " Lady we shall join your escort in a few moments again I 
 eseech from you one cheering word." 
 
 " It would be cruel, senor, if I were to speak of hope when 
 lere is none. All is darkness before me. Why should I involve 
 on in it?" 
 
QQ Till: VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "All is light to me whore you are!" 
 
 "Senor, how can it be? You love your country, you serv* 
 it with your life and yet I am among her foes." 
 
 " O, cease to be a foe. Return with me to my native land 
 I will wed you, and take you to a father and mother who fo 
 my sake will love you dearly." 
 
 ''What, senor! would you now, after you have drawn you 
 blade in this war, thus leave the field, and those with when 
 your honor is linked ?" 
 
 " No, lady. No, I could not. The love I bear for you almos 
 maddens me, yet even it cannot make me forget my duty." 
 
 " Now I love you; you are indeed a soldier and a man! 
 cried the beautiful girl; "enemy though you be, I will lov 
 you, and should we ever meet in peace, then may we be happj 
 Now we must part." 
 
 " Must we part thus in the first moment of joy?" 
 
 " Yes, it is best. Let us both strive to do our duty. I sha 
 joy to hear that you become distinguished ; if you fall, I wi 
 follow you." 
 
 "And can we not meet again ?" 
 
 " I fear when next we meet, it will be on the battle-field. ^ 
 great and decisive battle must soon be fought. I shall be ther< 
 I know you will. Meet where we may, we will meet as friends. 
 
 "As lovers, rather," sadly responded the young officer, reinin 
 in his horse at her request. 
 
 " You will wear this scarf for me," said Edwina, as she too 
 a white scarf from her shoulder; "it will aid me to distinguis 
 you if we meet amid the clouds of battle." 
 
 " It will, and you" 
 
 " Have yet the band of silver lace," replied the other. 
 
 The lady now presented him her hand, which he raised to h 
 lips and warmly kissed, then again they exchanged their lov- 
 toned adieus, and separated. 
 
 Edwina rode rapidly off to the westward to meet her escor 
 Blakey returned slowly and sadly to his camp. He was in lov 
 he had just heard that his love was reciprocated how sing 
 larly were the two lovers situated. Both were surrounded 1 
 perils, greater than either dreamed of. 
 
 As Blakey rode back he ascended the hill where but a fe 
 moments before he had seen Gorin, and looked over the su 
 rounding country in hopes to learn the direction which he h; 
 taken. But it was useless, he could nowhere discover hi 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 61 
 
 This seemed strange, too, for the country was very open, and 
 save a few groves and small chapparals, was quite clear from 
 obstructions to the view. 
 
 Gorin at this moment was concealed in a grove close by, in a 
 spot where he plainly saw Blakey, but he had reasons for not 
 being seen by the latter. It was his intention to lurk about in 
 the vicinity of the camp until night. He had the countersign 
 which had been given to all of the officers commanding compa 
 nies, and knew that he could get into the camp if he wished. 
 Besides, he expected again to meet Vicentio in the vicinity. 
 
 Speaking of the latter, makes it proper that we bring him 
 again before the reader. When Donna Edwina reached her 
 escort, this man was the first to ride" forth to meet her. 
 
 " How has your errand sped, noble lady V" asked he. 
 
 " Well. The prisoner is saved Gorin is disgraced and driven 
 from the camp." 
 
 " Know you which way he has gone ?" 
 
 "A few minutes since, he was on the top of yonder hillock, 
 even where that brave but imprudent American has ridden," 
 replied the lady, gazing at Blakey, who now, however, after 
 looking in vain for his enemy, rode toward the camp. 
 
 " I must watch him I shall make use of him for a little time, 
 and then he is reserved for revenge," said the spy, while his 
 dark eyes gleamed like those of an angry serpent. 
 
 " Whatever you do, watch over the life and welfare of the 
 American who rides now toward the camp. Let the life of 
 Captain Blakey be as dear to you as my brother's ! Twice has 
 he saved mine." 
 
 " It shall be as you wish, lady," said the spy respectfully, and 
 now bowing low to her, he rode out from the escort, and took a 
 direction which would lead him around the hill of which we 
 have several times spoken, and at the same time in the direction 
 of the spot where he had before met Gorin. 
 
52 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE WARNING. THE TOKEN. 
 
 WHEN Vicentio, the spy, left the escort of Donna Edwina, he 
 rode, as we before said, slowly away in a direction which took 
 him around to the southward of the hill. He had not ridden 
 fur before he came to a small grove of mountain oaks which 
 stood near the hill which he was about to pass, when a sharp 
 whistle to his right caused him to draw his rein. 
 
 It was repeated in a moment after, and then he recognized 
 it as the peculiar signal generally used by Gorin. He at once 
 turned his steed toward the grove, which he had penetrated but 
 a short distance when he was met by Gorin. The appearance 
 of the latter was strangely changed, since the spy had last met 
 him. His face was pale as the white ashes of the camp-fire ; 
 his eyes were like two living coals of fire. His voice was husky 
 and deep in its tone, as he addressed the spy : 
 
 " You have seen hershe who calls herself Edwina Canales, 
 she whom you have promised me to get rid of, have you not ?" 
 
 "Yes, I have just left her." 
 
 "And she has told you all told you how I have been dishon 
 ored for the sake of one whom she is making a fool of she has 
 told you all this?" 
 
 "All," replied the spy, in his usual quiet tone. 
 
 "Curse her! She is the cause of it; why have you let her 
 live so long?" 
 
 " Her time hasn't come, yet." 
 
 a You have been paid for her life why do you not fulfil your 
 promise ?" 
 
 " Because I have not yet had a chance. Be patient, bide your 
 time, and your side of fortune's wheel will come up again." 
 
 " Patience ! preach patience to women men have nought to 
 do with it" 
 
 "Yet men must have to do with it," replied the other, and 
 then added, " You are out of employment now, which way do 
 you wend your course ?" 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. . 63 
 
 "Which way? To the camp of the enemy. Ay, when 
 General Taylor insulted me, he placed a nettle in his path, 
 which yet shall prick him to death. I shall go at once to 
 General Santa Anna." 
 
 "Why not to Urrea? I can get you a commission under 
 him," replied the spy, in a tone of singular softness. 
 
 " Because he is the friend of that wretch who calls himself 
 Canales. I wish not to meet him at present." 
 
 " What is the quarrel between you and Canales ?" 
 
 " O, nothing but an old grudge ; I have met him before, and 
 he insulted me." 
 
 "And for nothing but an old grudge a half-forgotten insult, 
 you'd have him killed. You are indeed a bitter enemy," said 
 the spy, in a tone which should have excited a suspicion in the 
 ranger that the spy was no friend to his intentions, but he 
 seemed not to heed or understand it, replying: 
 
 " He must be put out of my way." 
 
 " Why do you hate his sister so ?" again asked the spy. 
 
 " Hate ? I hate her because she gave me hate for love, when, 
 like a whining fool, I knelt at her feet and prayed for her to 
 smile upon me. I have loved her, O, how have I loved her ! 
 She spurned me like a dog from her feet, and think you I will 
 bear this? No! by all that is sweet in revenge, no I" 
 
 " You think she loves this Blakey, do you not ?" 
 
 " Think ? No, I know it, else she would not have come here 
 to ruin me and save him. But he shall pay for it this night 
 he dies." 
 
 " Dies ? How, by whose hand ?" 
 
 " By my own ! I have the countersign, I can pass unknown 
 to his very tent." 
 
 " What is it?" asked the Mexican, carelessly. 
 
 The ranger eyed him for a moment distrustfully, then seem 
 ing to be satisfied, answered, " Virtue." 
 
 *"That must be a favorite word with the American com 
 mander," replied the spy, audibly; then added in an under tone 
 only audible to himself, " I wonder it don't choke you to speak 
 it." 
 
 " Well, about our other matters," said Gorin, " when will you 
 get me rid of those enemies ?" 
 
 "As soon as I can," replied the spy, " but I've other work on 
 hand. I want to know if more reinforcements have come 
 
ft| THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Yes, I will give you the number in the morning. To-night 
 I shall be busy; but I wish to see you to-morrow." 
 
 " Where?" 
 
 Here, or anywhere at a safe distance from the camp." 
 
 " Then let it be here at sunrise." 
 
 The two parted, the spy riding off still further to the south 
 ward. The gray of twilight soon came over the earth, and as 
 soon as it was sufficiently dark to conceal his motions from 
 (inrin, the spy turned his horse to ward the American camp, and 
 da-hing his spurs into his horse's flanks, drove him up to hi* 
 speed. It was about an hour after dark that Blakey, while sit 
 ting in his tent, perhaps thinking of the wildwood home he had 
 It-It, and of his dear old father and mother; or perchance think 
 ing of her whom he had so lately learned to love, was told by 
 an orderly that a man, apparently a Mexican, wished to see 
 him. 
 
 "Admit him," replied Blakey, supposing it to be one of the 
 guides or native laborers in the employ of the camp. 
 
 In a moment Vicentio entered, and as he appeared armed to 
 the teeth, and was anything in appearance but the tame .slave 
 who did the menial duties of the camp, Blakey started from his 
 seat, asking, as he looked at his visitor with a searching eye : 
 
 " Who are you sir, and what want you here ?" 
 
 " When Captain Blakey is alone, I will tell him," replied the 
 spy, looking at the orderly that lingered in the doorway of the 
 tent. 
 
 Blakey made a sign for the soldier to withdraw, and then 
 repeated his question. 
 
 "A friend, who wants to save your life, for the sake of Edwina 
 Canales." 
 
 "A friend, who uses that name? Who are you ?" 
 
 " Vicentio Jarueta, at your service, a soldier of the republic 
 of Mexico." 
 
 " How did you gain admittance to the camp ?" * 
 
 "By < virtue' of the countersign," replied the other, in a 
 meaning tone. 
 
 "The countersign! you have it, by what means?" 
 
 1 The means that informed me that your life was in danger." 
 
 " My life in danger ? You spoke of that before. Explain all 
 of this mystery." 
 
 " You have an enemy." 
 
 " I presume soa good many of them. I hope so at least, for 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 65 
 
 I never knew a man that was good for anything that didn't 
 have them." 
 
 " You have one who will try to assassinate you this night." 
 
 " Who Gorin ?" 
 
 " You have named him." 
 
 "He is banished from the camp. How can he return to it?" 
 
 " His * virtue, 7 like mine, will pass him by the sentinels." 
 
 " Has he the countersign ?" 
 
 " From him I got it from his own lips I gained the knowledge 
 that he intended to assassinate you this night." 
 
 ** Who are you, that you should take this trouble to inform 
 me of my danger ?" 
 
 " One who would die to serve the sister of my chief, Licencio 
 Canales, and she, when I parted from her, bade me guard your 
 life if ever I found it in danger. I love you not I hate your 
 nation, but I love and serve her, and as you see have obeyed her 
 last request." 
 
 " You are a noble fellow take this in acknowledgment for 
 your kindness," said Blakey, reaching toward him a purse 
 apparently well filled- 
 
 " Vicentio Jarueta needs no reward for doing his duty. He 
 only receives pay when he does some great villany." 
 
 " You are a strange man is there anything I can do for 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes. When Gorin comes here to-night to kill you, avoid 
 him, but do not detain him, I want him in the morning." 
 
 " You want him ? your request is strange why do you want 
 him?" 
 
 " Donna Edwina may tell you some day, senor," responded 
 the spy, drily; " may it be as I request?" 
 
 " It shall. I will keep out of his way, and fool him in some 
 way." 
 
 " I thank you. Now give me a token for the lady, that sshii 
 may know that I have seen you." 
 
 The young officer took the bowie-knife from his belt, and 
 with its keen edge severed one of the long locks of hair from his 
 head, saying, " let this be your proof." 
 
 The spy bowed, and the next moment was out of hearing. 
 
 The moment he was gone, Blakey turned his attention to 
 preparing a trap to astonish his enemy. He took some clothes 
 and formed a figure of a man, then placed it in such a way as 
 to have it appear like himself asleep with his back turned 
 
05 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 toward the entrance of the tent, covering It with his blankets 
 as usually he did himself. He then placed his light so as to cast 
 that portion of the tent somewhat in the shade, after which he- 
 weut out and told the orderly that he had no further need of 
 his services that night. The soldier he sent away, that Gorin 
 might have no interruption in his visit. Then having prepared 
 everything as he wished it, he hid himself behind some old 
 rubbish in the back of the tent. 
 
 He had remained here on the watch until after midnight, and 
 began to grow tired of his vigil, and think that his enemy had 
 given ovef his fiendish design, when a very slight noise was 
 heard at the back of the tent, close by his side so near as 
 almost to touch him. Scarce daring to breathe for fear of being 
 discovered, he awaited the next movement. Soon the huge, 
 shaggy head of Gorin was seen peering up from beneath the 
 tent cloth, looking eagerly toward the spot where he supposed 
 Blakey to be sleeping. The villain, not knowing that the 
 orderly had been sent away, had taken this mode of entrance to 
 avoid alarming him, and now cautiously crept through, cutting 
 a rip in the tent large enough to let his body pass easily. 
 
 As soon as he got through, he arose cautiously with all the 
 malignancy of a venomous serpent, he examined the edge of 
 his huge knife, and then crept cautiously toward his supposed 
 victim. He reached a spot where he was within striking dis 
 tance of the figure, and then paused, as if to regain steadiness, 
 for his whole frame trembled with excitement. 
 
 Gorin, black-hearted as he was, was not a coward, yet he 
 trembled now. It was hard even for him to strike a sleeping 
 foe, but at last he raised his knife, and while he drew in his 
 breath, struck with a strong and steady hand the blow which 
 he thought would send his victim to eternity. The knife was 
 buried to the hilt in the bundle of clothes. Gorin had had too 
 much experience in the way in which a knife walks into human 
 flesh, not to know that he was fooled, and with a low, bitter 
 urse, he drew the bundle of rags from its place, and in the 
 impatience of his rage again and again dashed his knife into 
 
 " How could he have had a suspicion of this ? Could he have 
 
 1 an attack from me? or is this some trick of his, to get 
 
 way from inspection?" said Gorin, in soliloquy; then as if fear 
 
 it he might be watched or in danger, he hurried from 
 
 the spot, by the same way he came. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 67 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A. GENERAL INSPECTION OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 SOME days have elapsed since the night of our last chapter, 
 and all the actors in our scene have changed ground. We will 
 pay them a visit, reader. First to the interview with Santa 
 Anna, at San Luis Potosi, which gives to Gorin a captain's 
 commission in the Mexican array. 
 
 Gorin, after the failure of his attempt to add Blakey to the 
 number of his victims, had made his way with all despatch to 
 the head-quarters of the Mexican general; his dark appearance 
 and perfect command of the Spanish language enabled him to 
 pass easily through the country, he having adopted the dress of 
 the natives. On entering the presence of Santa Anna, the keen 
 black eye of the latter was fixed upon him, and while he kept 
 his look steadily upon his face, he asked : 
 
 " Where are you from, and what do you want ?" 
 
 "I am a deserter from the American camp ; I come to offer 
 my services where they will be properly appreciated." 
 
 "A deserter I Why have you left your countrymen ?" 
 
 " Because I have been wronged and insulted. Because I wish 
 to be revenged upon them." 
 
 The general narrowly watched the expression of the speaker's 
 face, impelled by suspicion; but the tone in which this was 
 uttered, and the almost fiendish look which accompanied it, 
 seemed to satisfy him, for he replied : 
 
 " If you have been injured by your ungrateful countrymen, 
 you shall soon have ample opportunity for revenge." 
 
 " I shall improve it," replied the stranger, speaking in Spanish 
 so pure that his interrogator noticed it, and remarked : 
 
 " You speak our language passing well ; are you not Spanish 
 born?" 
 
 " I was brought up in Texas, in a Spanish settlement; it was 
 therefore the language of mv early childhood." 
 
(J3 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The face of Santa Anna grew darker as Texas was mentioned. 
 The word seemed to have an unpleasant jar on his ear, but he 
 
 replied : 
 
 "Then we have a double claim upon your services. What 
 was your rank in the army which you have left?" 
 
 " Captain." 
 
 44 Then you shall now have the same here. I have a full com 
 pany of deserters, mostly Irish, German and French Catholics; 
 you shall have command of them, and if your conduct shall 
 merit, promotion and honors shall be your own." 
 
 " Give me but a chance, general, and let my conduct prove 
 me," replied Gorin. 
 
 44 You shall soon have it," replied the other. " Within twenty 
 days I will crush Taylor and his insolent army. I have now 
 seventeen thousand men within a week I shall certainly have 
 from three to five thousand more." 
 
 44 You will need them all ; General Taylor is a horse !" said 
 Gorin. 
 
 "A what?" cried the general, unused to the slang terms so 
 much in use upon our borders. 
 
 44 A man that is not easily whipped, but if you have a force of 
 twenty thousand men, you ought to eat him up." 
 
 " I will meet him with at least that number before the month 
 is out," replied the general, and then adding, " You will receive 
 your commission in the morning," dismissed his visitor. 
 
 Thus we have followed Gorin into treason, and now we will 
 hunt up some more of our friends. 
 
 The " Bolsa de Flores," where we left General Urrea en 
 camped, was deserted at the time when the above interview 
 took place, by all of the troops save a small party of foot soldiers, 
 who were left to act as a guard to the daughter and wife of 
 General Urrea, who were left here by him, who did not wish 
 them to be placed nearer to danger, which must have been the 
 case if they had followed his army. Edwina Canales had been 
 there too, but on the night of the very day on which the army 
 left, she, donning her male attire and attended by Vicentio, had 
 started for San Luis Potosi, where the main force of the Mex 
 ican army was gathering. This she had done, in spite of the 
 tears and entreaties of poor Anita, who, woman as she was, 
 could not appreciate the feelings which prompted her stern 
 companion to face the perils and share in the excitements of 
 active service. As on the evening she sat by her mother's side, 
 
THE VOLUNTEEIi. 69 
 
 poor Anita felt sadly lonesome, though were the truth known, 
 she probably missed the brother of Edwina more than she did 
 the maiden, and he probably caused by his absence the sighs 
 which were so frequently heard to rise from her gentle bosom. 
 
 And think you, reader, that she was forgotten by him? No ; 
 and to prove it, we will take one glance at him as he sits in the 
 tent of his general, at the same hour, in a camp about two days' 
 march from San Luis Potosi. He is engaged at his writing 
 desk, making out his official orders for the morrow, for he is 
 acting as aid to the general, and these are among the many 
 duties of his office. The general is seated near him on his 
 saddle, which is laid upon the ground. He is engaged in his 
 favorite occupation, smoking paper cigars, and giving from 
 time to time the orders, which his aid commits to writing. 
 
 " You will give orders for your brother's regiment to lead the 
 advance to-morrow," said the general. 
 
 " Yes, senor," said the young man, rapidly commencing to 
 write the order, and then almost as quickly tearing it up, for he 
 had commenced it thus: "Dear Anita, you will take the 
 advance." 
 
 " What is the matter?" asked the general, as he saw the youth 
 with an impatient gesture tear the paper into atoms. 
 
 " Nothing, senor, only I commenced this order wrong," re 
 plied the youth, blushing, and proceeding to direct it as he 
 should at first have done to his brother. 
 
 We have only given this little incident to show where his 
 thoughts were, and now, reader, we will take another march on 
 our round of inspection, and find another of our characters, at 
 the same hour. This one is Blakey, the decided hero of our 
 story. 
 
 He was in his quarters in the city of Saltillo, for already had 
 he advanced to this point, with the forces under General Worth. 
 The army of General Taylor was advancing to the same point, 
 and rumors of Santa Anna's approach were as thick as gamblers 
 in Nashville. Blakey knew that a great and decisive battle 
 must soon be fought, and knowing as he did that she whom he 
 loved would be exposed to all its terrors, it need not be won 
 dered that at this moment he was heart deep in the blues. 
 Where she now was he knew not ; he had not heard from her 
 since the night when he sent her the token requested by Vicen- 
 tio, yet he felt sure that she must be with Santa Anna's ad 
 ducing army ; her last words had left him 110 doubt but that 
 
70 THE VOLUXTEEB. 
 
 she would resume her old position on the re-commencement of 
 hostilities. 
 
 Whatever his reveries may have been at this time we know 
 not, but they were broken in upon by an orderly who entered 
 the room and laid a document upon the table before him. Tak 
 ing it up he read it aloud to himself. It was an order to start 
 without delay, with a small force, to reconnoitre the forces of 
 the enemy, and to hover in front of the advancing army of 
 Santa Anna, and remit reports as fust as any change took place 
 of any importance to our army. Though it was night, the 
 ready soldier was soon in the saddle, and we will there leave 
 him to obey his orders, while we look up one or two more of 
 the friends in whose motions we feel an interest. 
 
 It was at this very hour that Edwina, having passed General 
 Urrea on his inarch, arrived at San Luis Potosi, her only es 
 cort being Vicentio the spy. Her dress was that of a captain 
 of lancers, and she looked it sufficiently to pass along in the 
 night without her sex being discovered. She took her quarters 
 up at a hotel, where, unknown to her, Gorin was also stopping. 
 At the very hour she arrived, he had just returned to his room 
 from his visit to Santa Anna, and that room was next to the 
 one where " Captain Cauales," as Edwina gave her name, was 
 shown. 
 
 The vicinity of Gorin was first discovered by Vicentio, who, 
 going to the stables to see the horses attended to in person, 
 discovered the well known animal which Gorin rode, and mak 
 ing inquiry after its owner, found out where he was. The first 
 thought of the spy was to use his dagger, the second was to 
 acquaint his lady of her dangerous neighbor's vicinity, which 
 last idea he acted upon. When he had told Donna Edwina of 
 the neighborhood of his enemy, he proposed that he should now 
 close up accunts with him, but she replied: 
 
 " No, Vicentio, it is not -time yet and I would reserve the 
 pleasure for my own hands." 
 
 " But, lady, he may discover you." 
 
 "No I shall plead sickness and keep my room for a few 
 days, and supposing that he did, have I occasion to fear him ?" 
 
 " No, lady, not while my right hand has strength to wield a 
 weapon in your defence." 
 
 " I need no defence against him, Vicentio, one look can crush 
 e turned pale and trembled when last he heard my 
 voice. I fear him not." 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 71 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE PLOT DEEPENS. 
 
 Two days have passed away in our history, and still again 
 have changed the positions of our characters. Urrea and Can- 
 ales, having joined their forces to the army of Santa Anna, have 
 swelled his force up to twenty thousand, and now he is ready to 
 advance to meet the northern foe. On the evening of the day 
 when this junction was made, Matteo, the large negro of 
 Canales, whom in a former chapter we kave placed before the 
 reader, entered the kitchen of the hotel where Donna Edwina 
 was stopping. The elder was accompanied by Roberto, the 
 younger servant of Canales, who indeed was his son. 
 
 As they went in, they had cautiously to pick their way among 
 a crowd of sleeping servants belonging to different officers who 
 were quartered at the house ; and this they were doing by the 
 aid of a light in the hand of the elder negro, when the latter 
 fixed his eyes upon the face of one who lay with his hands 
 nearly in the ashes of the huge fireplace, and as he did so, 
 started back in surprise. 
 
 " Look yar, Bob," said he to his son, " I'll be blessed if here 
 aint a nigger dat we've seen before I" 
 
 And as he spoke, he bent down and took a closer examination 
 of the sleeper, while his boy also looked down upon him, at the 
 same time exclaiming : 
 
 "Yes, sure enough, it's old Gabe, that Gorin nigger, and 
 nobody else ! I wonder what he's doing here." 
 
 *' "Better wake de child an' ax him," replied the father. 
 
 The younger negro proceeded to act upon this advice at 
 once, but found it rather a difficult matter, for Gabe was a 
 capital sleeper. It was not until young Roberto had kicked his 
 shins pretty heavily eighteen or twenty times, thai he began to 
 show any signs of returning consciousness, arid then seeming to 
 iiincy that his master was calling him, he grumbled: 
 | " Yes, massa cap'n, I tell 'em so, but de gol blasted fools keep 
 
72 THE VOLUNTEEB. 
 
 a sayin"no savy Ingles/ and dats all I can git out of 'em! 
 Wish I was back in de cornfield." 
 
 Another hearty kick across Gabe's shins awoke him thor 
 oughly, and he sprang to his feet, looking around, as his eyes 
 opened, to see if his master was near. But when he saw only 
 the two negroes, he became unusually wrathy all at once, 
 exclaiming, in tones exceedingly bearish : 
 
 " What is you 'bout dar, awakin' gemplems up at dis time o' 
 night!" 
 
 " Gabe, don't you know me your ole fren ?" asked the elder 
 Ethiopian. 
 
 "Know you, nigger? no, I doesn't. How can one nigger 
 know anudder when dey all look exackly like?" 
 
 " But you mus' know me, Gabe ole Matty, dat use to go on 
 possum hunts wid you, in de ole country?" 
 
 " Whah I dat you, Matty ? Why, what are you a doin' here ?" 
 
 "Dat's jist de question dat I axes you, an' as I'm de ole folks, 
 I'se got de right to de first answer !" 
 
 " Den I gibs in. My massa's turned Mexico, and come here 
 to help Santa Anna." 
 
 " Den him an' my massa do de same business. My massa's a 
 kurnel." 
 
 " Mine is a cap'n." 
 
 " Den, nigger, I ranks you ! Have you got anything to eat 
 here?" 
 
 " Reckon yes. Jist look dar at dat little nigger ! he's at de 
 grub a ready," said Gabe, in answer to the last question, point 
 ing to the boy, who had, with natural intuitiveness, found his 
 way to the cupboard. 
 
 "Dar ar a fact; dat's my boy, Gabe!" exclaimed the elder, 
 with an indescribable tone of parental pride. 
 
 " What I dat ar little Bobby?" exclaimed Gabe. 
 
 "He isn't nobody else," replied the subject of this exclamation, 
 as he returned from the cupboard, with his hands full of bread 
 and meat. 
 
 " Wall, chile, you is growed up 'stonishin' I" said Gabe, as he 
 turned his lesser friend round with a quick whirl, as if he 
 wanted to see all his dimensions. 
 
 He then advised his two colored brethren to lie down and 
 take a nap, following his precept by an example which in a 
 minute or less left him in the same state in which they found 
 him. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 73 
 
 As soon as Gabe began to snore again, Roberto turned to his 
 father, and said : 
 
 "Daddy, I don't like the look of things here. Dis Gabe's 
 master and ours is at dead war !" 
 
 "So dey be. I forget dat. We oughtn't to ha' been so 
 familiar wid dat nigger," replied the father. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you he's a stupid nigger; he'll forget that he's 
 seen us when he wakes in the morning. Let's clear out, and 
 go somewhere else." 
 
 The elder agreeing to the proposition, the two left. It was 
 broad day ere Gabe's eyes were again unclosed. His master 
 had received orders to take post on the road toward Saltillo, 
 and as was usually necessary, had come clown in person to 
 wake his sleepy servant. This he effected with his usual means. 
 When Gabe awoke, he looked around him, as if he expected to 
 see some fctmiliar faces, then remarked to himself: 
 
 "Den dat was all a dream 'bout seeing dose niggers las' 
 night. It was de plainest dream I ever 'members." 
 
 "What are you grumbling about? Come, be lively and 
 wake up ! We take a march this morning," cried his master. 
 
 "Yes, massa cap'n," replied Gabe, yawning; "but I've had 
 such a dream !" 
 
 " You are always dreaming ; but wake up now you are 
 wanted." 
 
 " Yes, massa; but doesn't dreams go by contraries?" 
 
 " Hang your dreams ! Stir your stumps, and get my horse 
 and things ready for the march." 
 
 " Case if dey does, den them niggers are dead, dat's all !" 
 added the negro to himself. 
 
 And now being thoroughly awake, he hurriedly obeyed his 
 master's orders, and botli in a few minutes had left the hotel. 
 
 This early and fortunate start, although purely accidental, 
 had kept Gorin and the elder Canales from meeting, which 
 would probably have brought our romance to an untimely 
 close ; but fate seemed yet to defer the moment when the villain 
 was to receive the richly merited reward of his crimes. 
 
 During the two preceding days, both Yicentio and Edwina 
 had avoided becoming known to Gorin the one by feigning 
 fcickuess, the other by a deep and artful disguise. Now that 
 she found her brother was here, the former, fearing that he 
 would endeavor to keep her away from danger, determined still 
 to remain unknown, and the better to secure herself, determined 
 
74 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 to leave the city, and join the advance posts, not aware that 
 <; i>r'm, whom she knew had left, had adopted the same course by 
 order of the general-in-chief. She was therefore still in his 
 dangerous vicfnity. Leaving them, we will now return to 
 Blakey. 
 
 On receiving his orders, he at once set out upon his responsi 
 ble but dangerous and unpleasant duty. The first two days of 
 his ride gave out no adventure of any interest; but on the third 
 day he found that he was in the neighborhood of the advancing 
 posts of the enemy, and now began his time for danger and 
 excitement. He had assumed, so far as he could, the disguise 
 of a Mexican, he was furnished with a Mexican guide, and he 
 had disguised his small force as much as possible. 
 
 On the evening of the fourth day, after having passed numer 
 ous small bodies of the enemy during the day, narrowly escap 
 ing discovery, he arrived at a small place called Salado, on the 
 main road to San Luis. There was but one posada in the town, 
 and to this he bent his course and applied for quarters, which he 
 found obtainable. 
 
 He had always accustomed himself to attending to the 
 grooming of his horse himself, and to seeing that the noble 
 animal was properly cared for, and on this occasion followed 
 the hostler to the stable. It was night, and quite dark; but as 
 he entered the stable, he heard a voice singing the familiar old 
 air of " Gumbo Jim," which he thought he recognized as ono 
 he had heard before. Pausing, he listened for a moment longer 
 and then remembered where he had before heard it, and he 
 knew then that he was in the vicinity of Gabe, Gorin's servant 
 
 On cautiously advancing in the direction whence he heard 
 the voice, he soon saw by the light of a lantern which hung 
 near him, that the negro was engaged in rubbing down his 
 master's horse, which bore the marks of travel. 
 
 He was revolving in his mind what steps to take, when 
 another comer appeared in the scene, whom he perhaps might 
 not have recognized, had not a noble-looking, coal-black horse, 
 which he led, given a neigh of recognition which was answered 
 by his own. One glance at the Mexican who led the horse, and 
 ie recognized Vicentio. Dangerous as it was for him to become 
 known, he could not refrain from laying his hand upon the spy's 
 arm as he was passing, at the same time whispering be silent 1" 
 as he pointed to the negro. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 75 
 
 The spy started as he felt the touch, and then recognizing 
 the American, paused and glanced toward the negro, whom 
 also he seemed to recognize, for in a low, hissing tone of anger, 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 " Caramba I Is that dog always to be in our way ?" 
 
 "Where is your mistress? is she here?" asked Blakey, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " She has just come ; but it will not do for her to tarry here, 
 unless I make yonder darkie a free man, by cutting his master's 
 throat !" responded the spy. 
 
 " I must see her ! lead me to her at once," replied Blakey, 
 not noticing the allusion to the necessity for the death of Gorin. 
 
 " Is it prudent ? What are you doing here ? Do you know 
 that you are surrounded by our advancing troops ?" 
 
 *' I care not I must see her !" replied the other, in a tone by 
 far too earnest and loud for safety. 
 
 " I will tell her that you are here, but remember that now she 
 is Captain Canales !" replied the spy, at the same time fastening 
 his horse beside that of Blakey, and then returning toward the 
 posada. 
 
 The loud tone in which Blakey spoke had reached the ear of 
 one to whom his voice seemed unpleasantly familiar. Gorin 
 himself was on the way to the stable, but when he heard that 
 voice, and then heard another which he thought he recognized, 
 he paused, and creeping cautiously along in the dark, came 
 unobserved to a spot whence he could, by the dim light of the 
 lantern, get a view of their faces. As he recognized them, a 
 fiendish smile gathered upon his face, and in a low, fiendish 
 whisper, he hissed : 
 
 " So both are here, and in my power. Now my time has 
 come both are in my power !" 
 
 He almost held his breath, as they passed him on the way to 
 the house; and they had no sooner gone, than he hurried off to 
 the quarters of his men to detail a force to carry out the inten 
 tions which he had so quickly formed. Meantime, Blakey was 
 already in the presence of her he loved. 
 
 "O, holy mother! what means this rash exposure? Why are 
 you here, senor here, within our very lines?" asked Edwina, 
 in a tone of deep sorrow, as she warmly returned the embrace 
 of her lover. 
 
 '* There is no danger that I would not face, to have the 
 happiness of meeting you," replied he. 
 
70 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "O, what is that pleasure, when compared to the clanger you 
 run here ! This is not the danger or the glory of a battle-field ; 
 if you are discovered, the death of the spy would be your fate." 
 
 "Ay, by heaven, she has spoken your doom !" cried a hoarse, 
 rough voice, in the door-way; and at the same instant, Gorin, 
 attended by a large party of soldiers, advanced into the room, 
 with movements so quick, that ere Blakey could draw his 
 sword, he was seized and pinioned. 
 
 "Lost! lost!" moaned Edwina, as she saw by whom the 
 arrest was made; and then, as a sudden thought seemed to 
 strike her, she turned to leave the room, but found that she, too, 
 was a prisoner. 
 
 " Stay, fair lady I" cried her persecutor ; " you cannot yet be 
 spared. I have a desire that you should see a spy tried and 
 dealt with. After that, I may take the trouble to inquire into 
 your reasons for holding communication with the enemy." 
 * "O, fiend! fiend! beware how you act! You shall be made 
 to dearly rue this act, if harm comes unto him or me. You are 
 not now in the American camp!" exclaimed the maiden. 
 
 " No, but I am commander here, and threaten as you may 
 you .are now in my power. It were better that you used me 
 with a little more civility." 
 
 Edwina now looked around to see if Yicentio was near her, 
 for she had seen him at the moment of Gorin's appearance 
 peering in at the door. But she looked in vain ; the spy was 
 not there. Then, while her face wore a deep blush, she forced 
 back the strong current of her pride, and in tones of anguish, 
 cried: 
 
 " Gorin, as you are a man, spare him ! for myself I ask no 
 favors, but for the love of Heaven, do him no harm !" 
 
 "So you love him, eh?" asked the fiend. 
 
 " I do, I do! and on my bended knees I pray for his life !" 
 
 " Your words have doubly sealed his doom!" replied Gorin, 
 with a sneer. 
 
THE VOLUNTEEK. 77 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE PREPARATION FOR THE EXECUTION. 
 
 _T was the dawn of day the morning that followed the 
 eventful night of our last chapter. In the same room in which 
 he had been surprised by Gorin, was Blakey; and by his side 
 sat Edwina Canales, her eyes red with weeping. 
 
 Goriri had condemned her lover to death ! He was to be shot 
 at sunrise; and with the purpose of adding to the victim's 
 suffering, and making death even more painful, he had permitted 
 a last interview between the two. Edwina's firmness had given 
 way, when she found that her lover was indeed helplessly in 
 Gorin's power that the latter had his own company of reckless 
 deserters with him, who would obey all of his orders. She 
 thought not of her own danger; she only looked upon that of 
 him whom she had so lately met and loved him whom she was 
 now to lose. Blakey, however, was calm and firm. He felt 
 that Gorin would not dare to harm her, and he cared not for 
 himself, so that she was safe. 
 
 " I have but one thing more to say, dear one," said he, as the 
 increasing light warned him that his time had nearly come. 
 
 " Whatever it be, if my life is spared, your request shall be 
 fulfilled," cried the weeping girl, who now, though dressed still 
 in her male apparel, was again the woman. 
 
 " I have an aged father and mother," continued Blakey, who 
 will be well-nigh broken-hearted when they hear of my death. 
 When this war is closed, go to them, at their woodland home 
 in Kentucky, and bear to them my last expressions of love. 
 Here is a letter which I have always kept ready, in case I 
 should become wounded mortally, or be slain. It bears their 
 address. Go to them, tell them of our love, and for the love you 
 have borne to me, be unto them a daughter." 
 
 " George, think you that I shall survive your death? No, if 
 even he spared me now, I soon, soon shall follow you !" 
 
 " No, dear one, you must not talk thus." 
 
78 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 He was interrupted here by Gorin and a guard, the former in 
 a harsli tone exclaiming : 
 
 " It is time to put a stop to this. The sun will rise in five 
 minutes." 
 
 " I am ready I" answered Blakey, in a firm tone. 
 
 Edwina seemed to regain her firmness, too, in the presence 
 of her enemy, for as Blakey went forth, with a calm and steady 
 step she walked by his side. 
 
 They were conducted to the open square, or plaza, which is 
 found in the centre of every Mexican town, and here they found 
 the firing party awaiting the arrival of the prisoner, as also a 
 large body of the citizens whom the rumor of a military 
 execution had brought out to be witnesses. 
 
 Without any beat of drum, or any of the solemn ceremonies 
 which are usual on such occasions, Gorin marched his prisoner 
 to the spot chosen for the execution, and preventing even the 
 last embrace which Edwina requested, caused his party to 
 prepare to fulfil his sentence. 
 
 At the moment when he was forming them in a line, a clat 
 tering of galloping steeds was heard in the entrance of the town, 
 and before he could give the orders to proceed, a general officer, 
 followed by a body of lancers, rode up at full speed. Edwina, 
 as she saw this officer, screamed : 
 
 " Tis Urreal O, save him, my general save him !" 
 
 She then fell fainting at his feet, when he alighted from his 
 panting horse. 
 
 "Stay this execution! I wish to inquire into this matter !" 
 cried he, who was indeed the general whom she had named. 
 
 "Who are you, sir? What right have you to interfere with 
 my duties?" exclaimed Gorin, angrily. 
 
 " General Urrea, your superior officer," replied he. 
 
 Gorin glanced around, and saw that his " superior officer " 
 had a force sufficient to back his orders, and sullenly answered : 
 
 "Yon prisoner is a spy; he has been condemned to death." 
 ' By whom ? What court has passed sentence upon him ?" 
 
 "None!" cried Edwina, who now had recovered so as to 
 comprehend the change of scene. " The American came here 
 to meet me ; he is no spy. Gorin is his enemy ; he alone has 
 condemned him to death." 
 
 " Gorin ?" repeated Urrea ; " Gorin ? is he not the same from 
 whom this American once rescued you and my daughter?" 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 79 
 
 " He is he is a deserter from his own array, placed by Santa 
 Anna in command of the deserter corps I" 
 
 "He is a fit leader for such traitorous dogs!" replied the 
 general, in a tone of withering scorn; then turning again to 
 him, he added: " You have far exceeded the bounds of your 
 authority, sir! The prisoner, by this lady's own confession, is 
 here only to meet her; and though both have erred in thus 
 meeting at a time when war is between their flags, yet he has 
 done nothing worthy of death. Moreover, had he been a spy, 
 you have no right to take his execution into your own hands 
 without a trial." 
 
 Then turning to the prisoner, he kindly smiled, and said : 
 
 " You are free, senor, in consideration of your past service 
 to me and mine, and I will take this lady's word that you came 
 but to visit her. Yet let me warn you that such visits are as 
 dangerous to you as to her." 
 
 " They will not be repeated, senor/' replied the now liberated 
 American, who could scarcely realize or understand how he 
 had been saved. Had his eye caught a glance of Vicentio's 
 face, who, standing by the general's side, had gazed with a look 
 of malignant satisfaction upon Grorin, whose face was almost 
 black with anger at his defeat, he would have understood all. 
 
 On the night before, when he saw that his mistress and her 
 lover had fallen into the hands of their enemy, he had taken & 
 fresh horse from the stable, and riding back with all speed to 
 the apot where he knew Urrea had encamped for the night, had 
 made him acquainted with the danger which menaced Edwina 
 Canales, and the preserver of his daughter. Urrea, mounting 
 instantly, had arrived, as we have seen, just in time to save the 
 noble American, and to frustrate the designs of Gorin. 
 
 Blakey, after he. was freed, spent but a brief time longer with 
 her whom he loved, then hastened to the northward to regain 
 his own camp. The news that he had for his general was im 
 portant; it was that Santa Anna, with twenty thousand men, 
 was on his route to meet him. When he gave this information 
 to General Taylor, he was astonished at the perfect calmness 
 with which it was received. The general had brought up only 
 about four thousand men to Saltillo, and many of these were 
 men untried in battle men whom he feared would not stand 
 before a mass so immense as that which approached. 
 
 " Santa Anna numbers twenty thousand, you say ?" was the 
 remark of old Rough and Ready, as Blakey gave in his report. 
 
g0 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 Yes, sir; and his men seem eager to be led to batf io." 
 "They will be more eager to get out of it, I reckon," said the 
 
 old general, with a smile, and then asked, "Has he many 
 
 cannon ?" 
 About thirty pieces; but they are poorly fitted, and will be 
 
 but poorly served." 
 
 " That's a bad lookout in him. His guns should be his first 
 object how is his cavalry?" 
 
 "Good, sir he has an immense number of lancers and 
 rancheros." 
 
 " Rancheros ? They are apt to fight," said Taylor, thought 
 fully ; " what force of infantry has he?" 
 
 "Almost eleven thousand, so far as I could learn," replied the 
 young officer. 
 
 " It is well. You have nobly done your duty in this case ; 
 you have nobly refuted the false accusation which brought you 
 before a court martial. It will give me a double pleasure to 
 bear witness to your zeal and ability, when I next write to the 
 War Department." 
 
 "You remind me, in speaking of that court, that I saw my 
 accuser while on this scout." 
 "Whom, Gorin?" 
 
 " Yes, general ; failing to prove me a traitor, he has become 
 one himself. lie holds a commission with the enemy, and is in 
 command of a company formed of deserters from us !" 
 
 " Then if he can be but recaptured, I will show him what a 
 traitor deserves !" said the general, while his face grew dark 
 with displeasure " If he dares to face our troops in battle, it 
 shall go hard with him. He shall be captured, if men and arms 
 can do it." 
 
 &) The general was now joined by a number of officers, for 
 ; whom he had sent to give them the news, and to counsel upon 
 A the steps to be taken. Many of his best troops had been sent 
 for to join General Scott, at Vera Cruz; his favorite general, 
 the gallant Worth, he whose " waving plume " had ever been 
 seen in the battle's front, was gone. Yet Wool, with as gallant 
 and noble a spirit as ever bounded at the thought of glory, was 
 there; a pan of the regulars who had, under Ridgley, Bragg, 
 and the noble Kinggold, fought at Palo Alto, Resaca and Mon 
 terey, were yet with him, and he had determined to meet and 
 ii^'lit the enemy. 
 When, therefore, he gave them the news, he did not ask the 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 81 
 
 advice of the officers whether or not he should fight the foe, but 
 simply where they thought would be the best battle ground. 
 The veteran Wool was the first to answer, and he at once de 
 scribed the ground, which now is so well known as the " bloody 
 field of Buena Vista!" Others proposed a spot still further in 
 advance, called " Agua Nueva," but the result of General Tay 
 lor's inspection was the choice of Buena Vista, to which, after 
 marching as far forward as Agua Nueva, he fell back. 
 
 For some days after the return of Blakey, daily rumors of the 
 approach of the Mexicans kept the camp in excitement, and 
 hurried preparations for the battle that now appeared inevita 
 ble, were continually making. The generals and commanders 
 of regiments kept their troops under a continual drill, much to 
 the dissatisfaction of the latter, who could not appreciate the 
 vise or necessity of such severe lessons, although they soon 
 afterward learned and acknowledged how much they were 
 benefited by the course. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 
 
 IT is not necessary for us to describe the ground of Buena 
 Vista; already have an hundred descriptions, and even paint 
 ings of it, been scattered before our readers. Nor will we at 
 tempt a full description of the battle. It has already been 
 recorded in the glorious pages of American history. We will 
 only confine ourselves to the scenes and incidents in which the 
 characters of our drama take part; in fact, we have only room 
 to attend to them and their respective fates in this little 
 story. 
 
 As our readers of course know, the two armies met on the 
 twenty-second of February, the anniversary of the great Wash 
 ington's birthday an omen which could not be otherwise than 
 favorable. This day was spent in skirmishing and manoeuver- 
 ing, without any decisive or very important advantage on either 
 side. The troops slept upon their arms on that night or, at 
 least, lay down upon them, for we opine that sleep visited but 
 . few eyes on cither side on that night. When the morning's 
 sun arose on the twenty-third, then the Americans had a fair 
 ft 
 
g2 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 view of tho foe before them ; of the labor which they must that 
 day perform. 
 
 As far as they could look along the mountain sides, and in 
 the valley, stood the serried host of the enemy, their arms glit 
 tering like silver in the rosy sunlight. And soon they began to 
 move those vast fields of men, whose flaunting banners shook 
 out like tongues of defiance on the breeze. 
 
 Soon the roar of the tempest of war began ; soon the adverse 
 tides seemed to roll up to meet each other, and then the boom- 
 ins cannon, the rattle of musketry, and the sharper crackling 
 of the American rifles, began to tell the tale of death and 
 destruction that was going on. 
 
 The Kentuckians were posted in the centre on this day, al 
 though they had been engaged on the mountain side to the 
 left, on the twenty-second. The gallant McKee was at their 
 head; near to him was posted Washington's well-served bat 
 tery. 
 
 Opposed to this force was the main body of the enemy's lan 
 cers, and among these, as the line advanced at a sweeping trot, 
 Blakey felt almost sure that he recognized the form of Edwina 
 Canales. It was indeed she whom he saw, ere that line started 
 for the charge, ride along its front, waving her hat and cheering 
 the men on to their duty. 
 
 The Mexicans caine a body of over six thousand horse 
 sweeping right down upon the Kentucky regiment under Mc 
 Kee and Clay, and the Illinoisans under Hardin. As they camo 
 fairly within range, the batteries of Sherman, Bragg and Wash 
 ington opened upon them ; yet on they camefresh men filling 
 up each gap made in their ranks by the storm of grape and 
 canister which met them. 
 
 Soon they were engaged hand to hand lance and sabre, 
 pistol and bayonet, all in a fierce and dreadful melee, struggling 
 for the victory. The numbers of the Mexicans made it indeed 
 a fearful struggle for their very weight seemed enough to 
 crush our little army. Entirely surrounded by the foe, nobly 
 did these gallant spirits stem the fierce tide of battle. Clay, 
 McKee, Hardin, Zabriskie, Lincoln fell, yet steadily, desper 
 ately fought the survivors over their fallen friends, and finally 
 the Mexicans, leaving the ground covered with their dead were 
 forced to give way. 
 
 Twice Blakey saw Edwina Canales amid the storm of battle; 
 once did ho strike down tho weapon of one of his own riflemen 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 83 
 
 which was aimed at her breast. She was so near tc *ilm, that 
 he could distinguish that she wore upon her arm the band of 
 si Iver lace which he had sent her at Monterey; he felt sure, 
 therefore, that she could recognize the blue scarf which, a 
 present from her hand, crossed his breast, making him more 
 conspicuous as a mark for the enemy. 
 
 So far, he had not seen or heard of Gorin and his party of 
 deserters, and he began to think that they had shrunk from the 
 battle. He had seen, when the lancers gave way and fell back, 
 that Edwina still rode, seemingly unharmed, among them; and 
 as she had apparently left the field, he felt more at ease than 
 when he knew that she was mingling in the perils of that 
 dreadful charge. 
 
 He received orders at this moment to ride to the left, and to 
 report the repulse of the enemy in the centre to General Tay 
 lor; and as the strife seemed to be fearfully hot on the left, he 
 spurred his horse swiftly on, in hopes yet to share in the honor 
 of serving immediately tinder the eye of his general. 
 
 He arrived at that fearful crisis when the whole fate of the 
 day seemed to hang upon a thread when the enemy, having 
 by a ruse found out the station of General Taylor, had turned 
 every gun in that direction, and advanced with almost all their 
 force upon that point. 
 
 Protected by Bragg's battery alone, the infantry all having 
 fallen back or taken ground more to the right, Blakey found 
 his general. Calmly seated on his old white war steed, with 
 but two or three of his staff around him, was Taylor, looking 
 with a firm but anxious eye upon the advancing mass of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Blakey here found that the lancers, who had been repulsed 
 in the centre, had re-formed, and were again in the van of the 
 enemy; and again he recognized the noble form of the heroine, 
 as she rode with wild grace the coal-black horse which mated 
 his own. He saw, too, that the cavalry of the Mexicans was 
 supported in the rear by a large body of infantry; and when he 
 looked around at the handful of men who were by the side of 
 his general, he trembled for the result. 
 
 The Mexicans came on, and as they came within his range, 
 Bragg opened his battery with fearful effect, mowing down 
 horses and men in broad swaths as they came on. Yet it did 
 not check the charge ; on, on they came, and he was loading his 
 guns for a last, it seemed a hopeless, effort At this feurful 
 
g4 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 moment, when brave men felt that their hour was at hand- 
 when Bragg-8 artillerists were preparing to contest hand to 
 hand with the foe as they were placing the last charge into 
 their guns, which they could not load again before the foe 
 would be upon them, a low, stern voice in the rear of the bat 
 tery was heard, which seemed like magic to affect them. The 
 words were few and simple : 
 
 "A little more grape, Captain Bragg!" was all that was 
 said, yet he who spoke seemed so calm, so full of confidence, 
 that the men knew from that moment that they were invincible 
 while he lived. 
 
 "Double shot with grape! Double shot each gun!" cried 
 Bragg, cheerfully, as he heard the voice of his commander. 
 
 " Double shot it is with grapeand give 'em Jessie !" re 
 sponded the men, and the next moment each piece was filled 
 almost to the muzzle with grape. Then came the order : 
 
 " Depress the guns for close work now fire !" And with the 
 sound of that fearful discharge, arose a cheer from the gallant 
 artillerists that seemed almost to pierce the skies. 
 
 A thick cloud was between them and the foe ; when it arose, 
 they saw but a struggling heap of men and horses. The whole 
 front of the cavalry line was mowed down not shattered or 
 scattered, but mowed down by that fearful discharge. 
 
 Yet the Mexicans seemed resolved not to give up the prize 
 which lay before them. The infantry was ordered to advance, 
 and now, for the first time, Blakey saw Gorin and his company 
 of deserters. They were detailed as a forlorn hope to take the 
 battery, and right gallantly they dashed on toward it. But the 
 " grape " was again prepared for them ; one more fearful volley, 
 and over two-thirds of the company lay dead upon the ground. 
 The Mexican infantry turned and fled, and Gorin, cursing their 
 cowardice and his own bad luck, followed the*m slowly. 
 
 Blakey, seeing that he had but a few men with him, collected 
 a few horsemen, and with the permission of the general, at 
 tempted his capture; but he was too late to reach him before 
 he had regained the main body of the enemy, whom it would 
 have been madness for him to attack, with but twenty men at 
 his back. 
 
 He had lost sight of Edwina after that last, deadly shower of 
 grape; and now, as he rode slowly back, his eye glanced anx 
 iously along that dreadful winrow of death, tearful lest it should 
 light upon her mangled form. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 85 
 
 He had passed nearly by the front ranks, when he heard his 
 name murmured near him. He glanced around ; his face turned 
 deathly pale. He indeed saw her, as she lay there, amid the 
 dead and dying, beside her noble steed, which had been almost 
 cut in two by the shot. In a moment he sprang from his horse 
 and knelt by her side, raising her head to his bosom. 
 
 "O, Heaven! are you wounded, dear one? Thank God I 
 have met you so soon !" he exclaimed, calling at the same mo 
 ment to a soldier to come and aid in raising her from the gory 
 heap in which she was half buried. 
 
 " I am hurt more by the fall of my horse, under which I at 
 first fell," replied she. But at the moment she spoke, the blood, 
 gushing from a wound in her shoulder, told of a still more 
 serious injury from a shot. 
 
 It was but a few moments before Blakey and his men had 
 extricated her from her perilous position ; and confiding her to 
 the charge of two of them, he bade them hasten with her to 
 Saltillo and there procure a surgeon, and guard her with every 
 care and kindness until he could leave the field and attend her 
 in person. 
 
 This done, he returned to the side of his general, who had 
 been too busy in watching the appearance of the field, to note 
 his last adventure. The storm of battle still rolled along the 
 right, but soon May and Pike, with the dragoons, closed the 
 scene there losing poor Yell, and other noble spirits, in the 
 charge, but completely driving the foe before them. 
 
 Although the battle was still kept up by small, detached par 
 ties, the fate of the day was no longer uncertain. Victory was 
 ours I Taylor had won his fourth and most glorious battle. 
 
 When darkness came over the sky, the black-mouthed cannon 
 ceased to give its loud thunders to the air. But sadder tones 
 were now heard! The shrieks and moans of hundreds who 
 werii dying in such agony as none save those who have felt it 
 can know, filled now the heavy and stifling air; near three 
 thousand dead and dying men lay scattered over that terrible 
 tk-kl. 
 
 All of that night, groups of kind angels, women of Mexico, 
 were scattered about the ensanguined plain, attending to the 
 suffering, careless whether it was to friend or foe that they 
 extended this kindness, so that it was a sufferer whom they 
 could assist. 
 
80 THE VOLUNTEEB. 
 
 , CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 GOBIN CAST ADBIFT FBOM THE MEXICANS. 
 
 IT was but a few days after the battle of Buena Yista, wher 
 Urrea, with all of the forces which he had left, by making * 
 detour around the mountains, regained his old position in tho 
 " Bolsa de Flores," to the westward of Monterey. Canales tho 
 elder had gone to the northward, sad and disheartened at this 
 last defeat, and mourning the loss of his noble sister, who was 
 reported among the slain, which he doubted not, for her com 
 pany was cut to pieces. He had not crossed the path of Gorin, 
 who had become as unpopular among his new friends, as lie 
 had before been among the Americans. Urrea found his wife 
 and daughter safe on his return, and the latter was full of joy, 
 in that her lover had returned safe to her side. 
 
 We are opposed to love scenes ; no, not opposed to them ex 
 actly either, but opposed to describing them, therefore we will 
 not give the reader a picture of the first interview between 
 Anita and young Canales; but a conversation which ensued as 
 they walked up the valley on the same evening, was sufficiently 
 sober and sensible for us to give to the reader's eye. 
 
 " You are very, very sad to-night, dear Bonaventura," said 
 Anita, as she gazed up into the dark eyes of her young lover. 
 
 " Yes, dearest, I am thinking of my poor sister." 
 
 " Perhaps she lives yet," replied the fair girl, in whose fond 
 heart everything rested on hope. 
 
 "Xo, I fear it is useless so to hope. She was seen to fall, 
 her company was all slain. I saw Yicentio in the mass of dead 
 and dying, and asked him where she was. He told me that 
 she had fallen in the chagfje made to capture the American 
 general." 
 
 " Is Vicentio slain, too ?" 
 
 " No, he was badly wounded; but I think if he was cared for, 
 he may have been saved." 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 87 
 
 "Would to Heaven that I could hope!' 1 sighed the brother; 
 " but no, I will not; I will let hope die, while ray revenge shall 
 burn until death!" 
 
 " O, talk not so wildly; would to Heaven I could have pre 
 vailed upon her to remain by my side." 
 
 " Would to Heaven you had but there is a soldier riding 
 this way. He is pale, and looks as if he was weak and travel- 
 worn." 
 
 " Yes ; but look, Bonaventura, surely I have seen him before. 
 It is, it must be Vicentio." 
 
 The eye of Bonaventura brightened as he recognized in the 
 pale soldier who rode slowly toward him, the spy, the one whom 
 we have already known so faithful to Edwina. As he saw him, 
 he bounded to his side, exclaiming, as he reached him : 
 
 "Are you indeed alive? O, where is my sister is she 
 dead?" 
 
 " Read her letter," said the spy, faintly; " I have brought it 
 from her own hand." 
 
 "Thank God!" exclaimed the youth, as with a trembling 
 hand he tore open the letter which the wounded soldier handed 
 to him. 
 
 "Is she much injured?" now nsked Anita, while her eyes 
 glistened with the tears of joy which were rising in them. 
 
 The young brother read her letter aloud, the better to assure 
 the young girl of his sister's welfare, It was as follows : 
 
 " DEAR BROTHER : I write that you may not feel uneasy 
 regarding my fate. I was sadly wounded, but was found, prov 
 identially, upon the battle-iicld, and have since been attended 
 with tender and devoted care by the same noble American unto 
 whom I was twice before indebted for my life, Captain Blakey. 
 I am better, but not sufficiently well to leave the camp; in fact, 
 it seems that it will be long ere I shall led willing to leave, a 
 place where I have been so kindly and tenderly treated. 
 
 " Let our brother know that I am safe give my warm re 
 gards to Anita, and believe that I am as happy as any one in 
 my situation can be. EDWIN A." 
 
 "Seemed she happy when you left her?" asked the young 
 officer. 
 "As happy, senor, as you would be if you were too weak to 
 
TIIK VOLUNTEER. 
 
 leave the side of yon blushing young lady. She, too, has a 
 
 lover." 
 
 "A lover? surely she has not loved one of the enemy I" ex 
 claimed the brother. 
 
 " She surely has ; one who has saved her life so often as this 
 Blakey, certainly deserves some gratitude in return." 
 
 " But not the love of my sister," said the proud young broth 
 er, seeming to think that her love was indeed a priceless boon. 
 
 " I should love him had he been thrice the saviour of my 
 life," said Anita. And as she spoke, the youth seemed to yield 
 to the force of her argument, for he smiled sadly and said : 
 
 " It is well, perhaps, that it is so, yet I would rather she had 
 not given her love unto one of the Saxon bjood. She is from 
 one of the proudest stocks of Spain. I would that she had 
 wed a Spaniard or remained single." 
 
 " The blood of this lover of hers may not be Spanish, nor his 
 line of descent so haughty as her own, but this he has proved : 
 that he is ready to die for her that her life is precious to him," 
 said Anita, with spirit. 
 
 " It is true," replied Bonaventura; " but I must go and see 
 her; I must know all this from her own lips." 
 
 The cheeks of Anita turned pale as she heard this ; she liked 
 not this sudden parting with her lover; she liked not that he 
 should be exposed in the dangerous vicinity of the American 
 camp again, for fearful rumors of the excesses committed by 
 the troops in revenge for their loved and lost leaders, came but 
 too oflen, we need not say falsely, to her ears. Therefore she 
 erin! in answer: 
 
 " Surely you can write to her. It will be dangerous for yon 
 to go to their camp; besides, you know how strict now is my 
 father. He has forbidden any communication with the enemy, 
 under the fearful penalty of death." 
 
 " I mint see my sister," replied the youth, firmly. " I can do 
 so in three or four days, and your father will not know where 
 I have gone." 
 
 " O, Bonaventura, do not leave me," sighed the young girl. 
 " I have a sad presentiment that if we part now, our parting 
 will be eternal." 
 
 44 O t shake off such foolish thoughts, Anita; I will return 
 safely within three or four days," replied the other. 
 
 Her only answer was tears and sobs ; and leaving her in those, 
 he that night set out, leaving an apology to the general for a 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 89 
 
 frw days' absence. In thus proceeding he acted contrary to 
 the rigid rules of military discipline, but he had counted much 
 upon his general's usual kindness towards him, perhaps too 
 much, but let the sequel show. 
 
 After the battle of Buena Vista, Santa Anna, who had only 
 paused to collect his scattered forces at San Luis Potosi t and 
 whose temper had not been much sweetened by his defeat, 
 caused Gorin to be summoned before him. The latter hastened 
 to obey the order, expecting some reward for his bravery, on 
 the field, for he had indeed fought desperately well, as the loss 
 of over two-thirds of his men proved. But he was taken all 
 aback with astonishment to find that abuse instead of praise, 
 censure instead of reward, was to be his. 
 
 "We have no further need of deserters in our service, sir; 
 you and your company are not needed any longer," said the 
 Mexican general. 
 
 "Do I understand you, general?" said Gorin, evidently 
 doubting his own ears. 
 
 " You certainly ought so to do," replied the former, in a cold, 
 contemptuous tone. " You are no longer needed in my army ; 
 you had better return to that from which you came." 
 
 " Is this the reward which I am to have for all my services ?" 
 asked the other. 
 
 " Perhaps you may get a higher reward in your own camp," 
 said the Mexican general in a sarcastic tone, at the same time 
 turning on his wooden stump and stumping away. 
 
 Gorin paused a moment, his whole frame quivering with ex 
 citement and anger; his brow clouded with mortification. He 
 had become a traitor to his country, only to be foiled in all his 
 aims. His revenge had been thwarted, his services despised 
 and passed over unrequited; in short, without benefiting him 
 self in any way, he became a traitor and an outcast from both 
 sides, one who seemed to be cursed by a most untoward and 
 relentless fate. 
 
 After this insulting interview he retired to his quarters, where 
 for a short time he made his future course a subject of study. 
 He had about twenty men left deserters, fellows who were de 
 void of principle and all things save mere brute courage. They 
 were fit tools to serve his villany,and his first thought was now 
 to form them into a banditti corps, determining to prey on 
 either side, whenever plunder was to be had or revenge to be 
 obtained. 
 
90 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 "Ay," said he, in a bitter tone, though speaking to himself, 
 " ay, I will show them what a desperado and wronged man may 
 do for revenge. I will hover around until every enemy has lelt 
 my power. I will have full and ample vengeance. Cauales is 
 terrible, but I will be more so. Let him Blakey, let all beware 
 of me. Henceforth I belong to no side, I war with the whole 
 world." 
 
 He hastened to the quarters of his men, and having, with 
 many additions, related the insulting dismissal of himself and 
 company from Santa Anna's service, proposed to them his plan, 
 to make both parties their prey henceforth. As he expected, 
 his proposition was acceded to with loud acclamations, and on 
 the same night, he and his " free companions " were mounted 
 and speeding to the northward, unto a richer country than that 
 which they were then in. Leaving them for the present, we 
 will return to another of our characters. 
 
 It was not until the day after the battle that Blakey could be 
 so relieved from his duties as to get time to pay a visit to Ed- 
 wina, whom, however, he had heard from favorably, through 
 the surgeon who had dressed her wounds. As soon as his 
 duties permitted, however, he hastened to her side. To his 
 inquiry as to her situation, her weak, low-toned reply was : 
 
 " I am better, now that I know you are safe. But this has 
 been a fearful time." 
 
 " Yes, dearest; never have I seen its like before never may 
 I look upon it again !" 
 
 " I think you will not. I fear me that Santa Anna never will 
 have the power to raise such another army as that which you 
 have conquered. Yonr general is indeed invincible." 
 
 44 So it seems," replied Blakey, proudly ; " but his success in 
 this dreadful battle has been almost providential. At times the 
 fate of the day seemed to vacillate from side to side, as you 
 have seen some mighty tree trembling as it received the last 
 few blows of the woodman's axe, first swaying a little to one 
 side, and then to the other, leaving the beholder uncertain 
 which way it would fall." 
 
 "Yes, it was too true; when with fluttering pennons and 
 bloody spurs we advanced to that last charge, it seemed to me 
 impossible that we could be stayed, but that fearful cannonade 
 was more than the warriors of the Cid in the olden times could 
 have faced." V 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 URREA AND HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 "ANITA, are you aware which way Don BonaventuraCanales 
 has gone?" asked her father, sternly of Donna Anita, a few 
 honrs after his departure. " The young man dares much to 
 leave my camp in times like these, without my consent." 
 
 The young lady dared not answer her fattier directly, for she 
 saw that his mood was angry, and she knew well that her lover 
 had taken a rash step, therefore she answered : 
 
 " He has gone to take a short journey, my father, caused by 
 a sudden message which he received." 
 
 "From whom, child?" 
 
 " From some relative who wished his presence." 
 
 " Know you when he will return ?" 
 
 " Four days, he told me, would be the time of his absence." 
 
 " Four days ! in four days he can travel far, Anita, you know 
 all of his secrets I demand of you where he has gone," cried 
 the father, in a tone more stern than he generally used. 
 
 She dared not equivocate now, and replied : " To the American 
 camp, to see his sister." 
 
 " His sister! was she not slain?" 
 
 " No, my father he got a letter from her last evening, and set 
 out at once while you were absent." 
 
 "And he knew the orders that I had givenyes, for he copied 
 them himself, forbidding any communication with the enemy on 
 pain of death," said the general, sternly. " He is trifling with 
 his own life." 
 
 " O, my father, surely he cannot be blamed for wishing to see 
 his wounded and helpless sister perhaps he has gone to rescue 
 her from her captors." 
 
 " He is to be blamed, ay, and punished for disobeying orders," 
 replied the general. " I would rather have cut off my left arm, 
 than he whom I have so loved should be the first to disobey 
 my orders, yet it is his own fault on his head must rest its 
 punishment." 
 
9-2 THE VOLUNTPJEK. 
 
 " O, my father, you surely are not intending to take serious 
 notice of this act?" cried the unhappy girl, bursting into tears. 
 
 " My daughter, there is no use in giving orders if obedience 
 is not enforced. Don Bouaveutura must be court-martialed on 
 his return !" 
 
 " O Heaven and if court-martialed, there is but one doom! 
 My father, if he is lost, you lose your child. I love Don Bona- 
 ventura as none save I can love. He is my life, my all !" 
 
 With an astonishment which words could not express, Gen 
 eral Urrea gazed upon his daughter, as he heard her utter these 
 words. He had not dreamed that they who were so young had 
 yet thought of love, nor had he wished it. Much as he was 
 pleased with young Canales, whom he deemed brave and active, 
 he looked upon him as far beneath his daughter in birth and 
 station, and he did not think that the young man had ever 
 aspired to more than the friendship of his daughter. Therefore 
 it will not seem so strange that he replied : 
 
 " Love,, child ? Talk you of loving that unknown boy, you 
 who are the only heir of the Urrea ?" 
 
 " Yes, my father I not only speak of love, but I avow that 
 Bonaventura Canales has all of the love which my poor heart 
 can give I Now, sir, try him, shoot him if you will, but remem 
 ber that his life is mine 1" 
 
 The father answered not, but with a clouded and troubled 
 brow passed from the spot, leaving his daughter in tears. But 
 she did not long remain so. With her mother's beauty, she had 
 inherited all of her mother's tenderness, yet she did not entirely 
 lack the spirit of her impetuous father. He had left her but a 
 few moments, when she dashed away all appearances of grief, 
 and summoning a female servant to her side, bade her seek out 
 Vicentio the spy, and send him to her. When the spy appeared, 
 she bade the girl leave the room, and then turning to the spy, 
 said : 
 
 " Vicentio, I am going to the American camp will you go 
 wituine?" 
 
 "To the American camp, lady?" 
 
 < ^ res "" to the American camp, or to meet on the road from 
 it, Don Bonaventura Canales. His life is in danger he must 
 not return hereI must see him." 
 
 " Lady, I will go to him. The danger is too much for you- 
 but what ia the peril to his life?" 
 
THE VOLUA T TEElt. 03 
 
 " He lias gone to the American camp to see his sister, with 
 out my father's permission. The penalty is death." 
 
 " But surely your father will not enforce it on him !" 
 
 " In his duty my father knows no favorites he is sterner to 
 his friends than to any others." 
 
 " I will go and warn him of his danger, lady but you must 
 not undertake the journey." 
 
 " O, good Yicentio, say not so. I would see him again before 
 we part, perhaps forever." 
 
 " Lady, you will not be long separated. I know your father 
 well his heart will soften when he sees your sorrow ; the young 
 officer will be pardoned and soon recalled. I pray you not to 
 leave this place of safety I will at once see him and put him 
 on his guard." 
 
 "Be it so then, good Vicentio; carry to him my warmest 
 words of love, tell him not to return until I send him word that 
 he can do so safely." 
 
 " I will, lady," replied the spy, and soon left her presence, 
 she being now more cheerful, for her heart was again reani 
 mated with hope, for she knew that the spy by fast riding would 
 be sure to overtake him. 
 
 Her father, re-entering the room a few moments after, seemed 
 surprised that she had so soon checked the overrunning current 
 of her grief, but made no remark upon it. He came to bid her 
 prepare for a journey to the northward he was about to move 
 his position. She would have given much to have known this 
 but a few moments sooner, but now it was too late for her wish, 
 the spy was already speeding on his route toward the American 
 camp. To this we will ourselves pay a brief visit. 
 
 Bonaventura Canales, coming with a white flag, and begging 
 permission to visit his wounded sister, found no difficulty in 
 gaining admittance to the American camp, and soon clasped 
 her weak form to his bosom. Almost as kind and tender was 
 his meeting with Blakey, for he could not look upon the man 
 who thrice had saved his sister's life and once his own, without 
 feeling the full tide of gratitude rushing up from his heart's 
 warmest depths. After the first thrill of joy at the meeting had 
 passed away, the three engaged in a conversation touching the 
 prospects of a peace, which all of them seemed ardently to wish 
 for. 
 
 " I am tired of a war in which we get nothing but hard knocks 
 
94 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 and poor pay," was the natural remark of the younger Cauales. 
 And his sister added: 
 
 " Yes, brother a war in which those who are most innocent 
 are the greatest sufferers. I am sure that the poor peasantry 
 whose fields are laid waste, and whose little all has been de 
 stroyed, who have been preyed upon by their own countrymen 
 more than by their foes, had but little to do in drawing the 
 desolating storm of war down upon themselves." 
 
 " It is one that I have seen enough of to satisfy me for a life 
 time," added Blakey ; " and as my term of service soon expires, 
 it will probably be the last war of invasion in which I shall ever 
 participate. I would die for the defence of my country, but 
 never again will I leave her borders to seek for glory." 
 
 Edwina was about to reply, when an orderly came in and an 
 nounced a Mexican soldier, who had come into the camp, in 
 quiring for Captain Blakey's quarters. We need scarcely 
 inform the reader that it was Vicentio, and his information was 
 soon imparted to the younger Canales. 
 " What steps will you adopt?" asked his sister. 
 " I shall return to the camp," answered the other. 
 " No, it must not be you will only go there to die," responded 
 the sister. 
 
 " General Urrea is a man he surely cannot carry out his 
 orders in this case, when he reflects upon the sacred duty which 
 caused me to break them." 
 
 " I fear for you, my brother; yet if you will return, and I am 
 not considered a prisoner, I shall go with you. I have much 
 influence with Urrea," said Edwina sadly, looking toward 
 Blakey, who now had become an accepted lover, their engage 
 ment to be consummated at the closing of the war. 
 
 " You surely are not a prisoner, yet indeed it will be painful 
 for me to separate from you, and you are yet too weak to 
 endure the fatigue of a journey, dearest," replied Blakey. 
 
 "I will only stay if my brother will defer his return to the 
 camp of his general." 
 
 "For your sake I will change my course, dear sister, and by 
 easy stages we can rejoin our brother, who is on the northern 
 borders. I can easily find his camp," said the brother. And to 
 this they all consented. 
 
 The brother now left the two alone for a short time, in order 
 o prepare for his return, taking Vicentio with him. When 
 they wore alone, Blakey sadly remarked- 
 ' 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 95 
 
 " I had not dreamed of parting so soon from you, dear Edwina. 
 I had almost hoped that we might be together until the close of 
 the war. I am sure that peace must follow this last decisive 
 battle." 
 
 " It will be better for us to part now," replied the lady. " I 
 am but an incumbrance here I am now able to travel, and if 
 peace is soon made, the sooner we will meet again." 
 
 " But you are not an incumbrance upon my duties, dear one ; 
 and moreover, in one week more my term of service expires, 
 my company will be discharged, and then I shall seek my 
 northern home would to God that you were going with me!" 
 
 The lady sighed, but answered not, and he continued : 
 
 " Why can you not go with me ? Why may we not even now 
 be united'?" 
 
 " My brothers are here how can I desert them ? they are 
 fighting for their adopted country." 
 
 " They will join us when the war is over we will no more 
 mingle in its horrors, but live henceforth for each other only." 
 
 " It cannot be you had better defer it until you return to 
 your home. I shall remain faithful to you." 
 
 " I fear not your want of constancy, dearest, but it will be 
 painful for me to leave you here in a land of strife to know 
 that you are in danger." 
 
 " I am used to that I should not be at home were I not in 
 peril," she replied, with a sad smile. " But we soon shall meet 
 igain, if this war is as near its close as you think." 
 
 "And if not " 
 
 " I will meet you and leave my brothers, after I have seen rny 
 fioble Licencio once more," replied she. 
 
 " Where can I meet you ?" 
 
 "At Matamoras, or some point in that vicinity," replied 
 Edwina. 
 
 " Then, dear one, on these conditions I will bear our separa 
 tion with patience and hope, and will hasten homeward to pre 
 pare my parents to receive their daughter to make my home 
 eady for my bride." 
 
 Edwina was blushing deeply, when at this moment her 
 brother returned, and prevented further remarks of that nature. 
 
 " I hope we shall again meet, senor, when the storm of war is 
 >ver, and no clouds may overshadow us," said the younger 
 ! anales, as he signified his intention at once to depart. 
 
 " We shall, I trust," replied the other ; then as if a sudden 
 
00 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 thought had struck him, he asked, " where do you think you 
 will find your brother?" 
 
 " To the west of Camargo, somewhere not far from the road 
 to the Rio Grande," was the response of the young officer. 
 
 Ju a short time they had separated, very sadly, but tenderly. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ITRREA ON HIS WAY NORTHWARD. 
 
 ON the day which succeeded that on which General Urrea 
 bade his daughter prepare to go northward, he despatched his 
 troops toward a point in that direction, where he intended to 
 tako post temporarily, near the Camargo road, for the purpose 
 of cutting off some of the many wagon trains which were used 
 to convey stores and munitions to the American army. As 
 nothing of our force was stirring in the vicinity save the few 
 escorts of the wagon trains, who never left the road, he feared 
 no reverses of his successor here, and bidding his commanding 
 colonel keep clear of that until he rejoined him, he permitted 
 the troops to take up their march. He was delayed from 
 following them at once, by Donna Anita, who became suddenly 
 ill, too ill to travel, and therefore it was the morning of t lie 
 fourth day before he was ready to follow his division. He did 
 not know what had caused his daughter to recover her health 
 with almost the same rapidity with which she became ill ; but 
 the reader will understand it, when we inform him, that before 
 dawn on that day, Vicentio, the spy, had returned to El Bolsa 
 de Flores, bringing, unknown to her father, a message to the 
 lady from her lover, who was already on his route to the 
 north. 
 
 In fact, the strange girl was now as anxious to hasten her 
 father, as for the four preceding days she had been to delay him. 
 To this he had no objection, but wished, by riding rapidly, soon 
 to overtake the rear guard of his little army, for he did not 
 much relish travelling with only his few servants as an escort. 
 Therefore for a couple of days they made very rapid progress* 
 and had nearly overtaken the troops, stopping on the second ! 
 night at a small rancho, which they had passed that day at 
 noon. The general had determined to rest here for the night 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 97 
 
 knowing that a few hours' ride in the morning would enable 
 him to regain them. 
 
 There was but one decent house at the rancho, and this, as 
 were also the huts which surrounded it, deserted by all of the 
 inhabitants except one old negro, who, in answer as to where 
 the people were, could only say that Canalcs had been there the 
 day before, and forced the men to take up arms, and that the 
 women, of choice, had followed his camp. This was pleasant 
 news to Urrea, for he was made aware that Canales, whom he 
 greatly valued, was near him, and he desired to form a junction 
 with him, to attack some of the northern posts. 
 
 Posting a servant as a sentinel before his door, the general 
 took up his quarters with his wife and daughter, in th house, 
 lie retired very early, in order to be ready for his start at the 
 dawn. 
 
 It was near that dawn, that he was awakened by the report 
 of his sentinel's musket, which was followed quickly, by the 
 reports of fire-arms at the door, and by the sound of curses 
 and shouts. Springing at once to his feet, he seized his weapons 
 and rushed to the door, which he opened only to find that he 
 was entirely surrounded, that three of his servants were slain, 
 iind himself wholly in the power of the enemy, whom he judged 
 to be soldiers of the American army, as they spoke in English. 
 Seeing that resistance would be useless, ,he exclaimed, to him 
 who seemed to command: 
 
 " I surrender to you I am General Urrea and claim 
 protection for my wife and daughter." 
 
 " So, ho ! we are old acquaintances, then," cried the individual 
 whom he addressed. "I am exceedingly glad to have the 
 pleasure of meeting General Urrea and his family." 
 
 To his surprise, Urrea readily recognized the voice of Gorin, 
 whom he still supposed to belong to the Mexican army, and 
 now replied, in a different and more haughty tone : 
 
 "Ah, is it you, sir? Then you have made a slight error in 
 this midnight attack, whereby you have slain my servants and 
 placed my life in jeopardy. You are too rash, sir." 
 
 " Not at all, sir, nor have I made any mistake," replied the 
 robber, coolly. 
 
 "Sir, beware how you address your superior! do not forget 
 the distance between a captain and a general." 
 
 " The distance between us, sir, is a very convenient one for 
 putting a stop to this conversation, and repaying you for having 
 7 
 
03 THE VOLUNTEKB. 
 
 thwarted me in my revenge once. Do you remember Salado ?" 
 
 "You are insolent, sir! Are you not aware that here you 
 are to respect me as your general, as if all of my troops were 
 around me?" 
 
 " No, sir, I respect no one, I acknowledge no general I am 
 free, and general only for myself." 
 
 " Do you not belong to the Mexican army ?" 
 
 NO I have had the honor of a dismissal, and now have an 
 undoubted right to fight on my own hook, with whom I please, 
 and when it suits me." 
 
 " You have turned robber, then ?" exclaimed Urrea, in a tone 
 of alarm. 
 
 " Yes, if you like the name, or land-pirate, if you like it better. 
 I have some twenty friends here, who have an ardent desire to 
 become rich. I am anxious to assist them," replied the villain, 
 in the same sneering tone, and then he added : 
 
 " You spoke of your wife and daughter are they alone with 
 you, or have they any female friends with them ?" 
 
 " They are alone, and I claim respect for them, at least. I am 
 willing to pay a ransom for them and myself." 
 
 " I have no doubt you are," sneered the other ; " but is not 
 one who calls herself Edwina Canales with them? I am 
 exceedingly anxious to find that lady." 
 
 " No ; she is in the American camp, a prisoner." 
 
 "A very willing one, doubtless ; but as she is not here, where 
 is her brother?" 
 
 " With her, at the American camp. But leaving this, name 
 your ransom I wish not to be detained." 
 
 " O, we are in no hurry, noble general. Make yourself easy ; 
 I must see your daughter, and see what her ransom is worth. 
 I never saw her but once, and then as it was twilight, and I 
 was very busy, had but little opportunity to see whether she 
 were pretty or not." 
 
 *' Sir, I wish no insult ; I only pray that you may name your 
 ransom. My military chest is not far from here name your 
 price, and permit me to despatch a servant, if I have one left, 
 for the money," cried the general, who now felt a deep anxiety, 
 as he heard the coarse allusions of his captor. 
 
 44 And I suppose you have tr.oops to guard your military chest 
 it would be exceedingly easy to bring a few of them to take 
 care of the ransom. But you don't trap me, sir. I will let you 
 go and bring it, and keep your wife and daughter as securities. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 99 
 
 If you come alone and bring the money, you shall have them 
 again ; if not, I reckon I can take care of them." 
 
 As the robber said this, there seemed to be a fearful meaning 
 in his words, and Urrea feared for the worst, yet determined to 
 defend his wife and daughter to the last, and responded: 
 
 " No, I will not leave them ; I am willing to send a messenger 
 for the money, but I shall not leave them." 
 
 "They must be worth guarding I must see the precious 
 jewels," cried the villain. " Just have the goodness to introduce 
 me." And as he spoke, he advanced. 
 
 " Stand back! you do not enter this door, save over ray dead 
 body !" cried Urrea, who still retained his weapons, and now 
 raised his sword. 
 
 " Well, well ; if you wish to have your quietus, I can accom 
 modate you," sneered the villain, drawing a pistol from his belt. 
 As he took a deliberate aim at the breast of the general, he 
 added : 
 
 " Now will you move out of my way, senor ?" 
 
 " Never never ! But for God's sake, ransom us, and permit 
 us to go," cried the other. 
 
 " Go and get your ransom bring me ten thousand dollars, 
 and you may go." 
 
 " Let me take my wife and daughter with me, and on my 
 honor " ^ 
 
 "Honor! Ha, ha! You must think me a fool! Come^ 
 come this is no time for playing or tampering. Get out of 
 my way, or abide by the consequences." * 
 
 As the villain said this, he advanced, but the sword of Urrea 
 was at his breast, and with a look of fiendish malice, he raised 
 his pistol with a deadly aim ; one moment more, and Urrea 
 would have been slain, but his daughter, who had been listening 
 in the agony of terror, sprang forward, screaming : 
 
 " O, spare him for the love of Heaven, spare my father !" 
 
 O, how beautiful, even in terror, she looked, her hair 
 inbound and lying loose upon her uncovered neck and shoul- 
 lers, for she was in the dishabille of her night dress. The eye 
 >f the robber gleamed with lustful pleasure as he saw her, and 
 virile in flinging her arms around her father's form to attempt 
 o shield him with her own body, she disabled his resistance* 
 he villain rushed in upon him, and with the aid of two or three 
 f his desperate followers, in a moment had overpowered and 
 ound him. While this was done, the daughter uttered piercin i 
 
100 THE VOLUNTKKK. 
 
 screams, which, though they echoed wildly through the air, 
 called vainly for help, for who was near to help them? 
 
 " You needn't make so much noise, my pretty friend, it is of no 
 use; I am in power, now," cried the villain, as he seized her 
 and attempted to stifle her cries, but as she felt his touch, she 
 sprang as if his hands were of flre, from his reach, and again 
 uttered a piercing shriek. 
 
 At this instant the sound of galloping horses was heard, the 
 sparks of fire from steel-shod hoofs were seen in the darkness, 
 showing that horsemen were coining along the rocky road, and 
 before Gorin could again reach her side for she had fallen to 
 the earth near the camp flre which illuminated the front of the 
 house and showed the actors in ti.e scene the form of an 
 armed cavalier crossed the space between them, and with a 
 sweeping blow of his sabre, would have crushed him, had he 
 not darted aside. The cavalier, however, did not strike a 
 useless blow; it fell upon the head of one of Gorin's followers-, 
 and ere these could know by whom or how many they were 
 attacked, two more had uttered their death yells. The clatter 
 ing of other hoofs was now heard, and Gorin, struck with panic? 
 shouted: 
 
 " To horse, boys, and be off; I expect the whole pack is on 
 us ! The deuce take the hindmost I" and setting the example, 
 was in a moment lost in the darkness, followed by all of his 
 gang save the three who had fallen by the stranger's sword. 
 
 One moment- afterward Anita Urrea opened her eyes. The 
 rescuer had sprung from his horse, and knelt by her side. As 
 she looked up in his face, her wildly-gleaming eyes changed in 
 their expression, and with a glad cry, she clasped her arms 
 around his form, screaming : 
 
 " O, my Bonaventura, is it indeed you ?" 
 
 " None other, my loved one." And then as the other rider 
 came up, he added, "Dear sister, our friends are in trouble; do 
 aid this poor girl in recovering, while I unbind her father." 
 
 The one whom he addressed was indeed Edwina, who has 
 tened to assist her friend, while the brother turned to aid the 
 general, who lay helpless upon the ground, where he had been 
 left by the villain Gorin, who had bound him, and his wife, who 
 had fainted in the doorway. 
 
 "Are you hurt, my general?" he asked, as he bent over and 
 cut the cords which bound him. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 101 
 
 "Is not that Bonaventura Canales who speaks ? Have you 
 alone rescued us from our fearful peril ?" 
 
 " It is I who am at your side. The villains, whoever they 
 are, have fled all but three of them," replied the other. 
 
 " You are a noble boy ; I owe to you more than life, most 
 probably my daughter's honor 1" exclaimed the general. Then 
 as he looked down upon the bodies of his servants, he exclaimed, 
 " Poor Vicentio, Matteo, Salado all gone. That rascal, Gorin, 
 intended to make sure work of it." 
 
 " Was it he who attacked you ? O, would to Heaven I had 
 known it, I would not have missed my blow. But he had force 
 with him, be may return. We had better leave this spot ere 
 the light of day comes on, to show the weakness of our party. 
 He must have thought that your whole regiment was upon him, 
 he decamped so rapidly." 
 
 " I hope that a part of my force is near," replied the other, 
 " for I like not to travel so nearly alone, in this dangerous 
 neighborhood." 
 
 At this moment the call of a bugle was heard near ; the long, 
 regular blast, as used in the cavalry. 
 
 " Who can that be ? If it is a body of troop, they march 
 early," cried Urrea. 
 
 " I will soon see," cried the young man, mounting his horse. 
 11 1 will return in a moment," he continued, as he rode rapidly 
 off in the direction whence the sound had come. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF URREA AND HIS PARTY. 
 
 WHEN the young officer mounted his horse, he rode rapidly 
 away to the northward, led by the occasional blast of the bugle 
 which seemed to be approaching, yet it was at some distance 
 from him, for near half an hour elapsed ere he came suffi 
 ciently near to hear the tramp of the horsemen. It was the 
 gray of dawn when he paused and cautiously examined their 
 appearance, to endeavor to learn if they were friends or foes. 
 He did not remain long in doubt one eager look showed him 
 that they were lancers ; he knew that the Americans had no 
 corps of that kind in the country, and therefore these must be 
 
IQ2 THE VOLUNTEEK. 
 
 fi -i<>n<K He dashed his spurs into his horse's side, and in a 
 moment was in the presence of his brother! One moment was 
 passed in a warm and tender embrace, as each bent forward ou 
 their steeds, and then the elder asked: 
 
 " What do you here ? Where art thou going, Bonaventura ?" 
 
 " I was seeking you, brother but I have no time to answer 
 questions. Our sister is near, with General Urrea, and his 
 daughter and wife. They may be in danger now they have 
 just escaped from imminent peril." 
 
 " Peril what is it?" cried the other, turning his steed, and 
 bidding his men follow at the same time. 
 
 " Gorin is near," was the reply of the youth, as he sped back 
 toward the spot which he so lately had left. 
 
 "Gorin? O, grant that I may find him! Where is he? 
 Have you seen him?" 
 
 "An half hour ago Urrea and his daughter were in the 
 villain's power. I rescued them he fled, I know not where 
 but he must still be near." 
 
 "If he is, he shall yet be taken, for, by Heaven, I sleep not 
 till the whole country is roused for the search. Has he a large 
 force?" 
 
 " Eighteen or twenty villains who seem not over brave, for 
 they all ran from me and my sister alone, although they thought 
 there were more of us, very probably." 
 
 The party had now nearly reached the ranchero, though it 
 yet was hidden from them by the thickness of the chapparal, 
 through which they were riding. Raising his bugle to his lips, 
 Licencio Canales blew a cheerful peal, to give notice to the 
 general that friends were near, and then dashed on at a gallop 
 with his men. It was now broad day, and the red sun was 
 tinging the tree-tops with its rose light. 
 
 As they came in sight of the clearing where stood the build 
 ings of the ranchero, the younger Canales put his horse to its 
 speed, and rode on ahead, to carry his good news, but to his 
 horror, those whom he expected to see were not there. Bound 
 ing from his steed, he rushed into the house not a soul could 
 he find within its walls. 
 
 O, who can tell his misery as he gazed around, and called 
 upon their names, yet saw not, nor heard anything to give an 
 idea of where they were? The thought struck him that they 
 might have ridden off to meet him, but the horses of Urrea were 
 In the stable that which his sister rode alone was gone. There 
 
THE VOLUNTEEE. 103 
 
 were no marks of blood save those which were there when he 
 left, no signs of any struggle having taken place all was a dead 
 and terrible mystery ! 
 
 The elder brother, as he rode up, looked at the pale, horrified 
 expression of his brother's face, then gazing around and seeing 
 that he stood alone, seemed to divine the meaning of his looks. 
 
 " Are they gone ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes, gone I fear forever gone ! Gorin must have returned 
 and surprised them ; what could three feeble women and one 
 man do to resist him !" 
 
 The youth groaned in his unutterable agony, as he thought 
 of their danger ; but his brother, more thoughtful, cried, sternly : 
 
 " Mount your horse ! This is no time for delay. Take you ten 
 of the men, and ride to the west. I will divide them off into 
 tens, and have them scour the country in every direction. If 
 the enemy are discovered, let the blast of a bugle call the others 
 to the spot. Divide, men, and a thousand pesos to the first man 
 who sees them ; and hark! let no man slay the leader of the 
 robbers, but at all risks, secure him a prisoner. He is my prey ; 
 I have a judgment for him. Away !" 
 
 Swiftly the lancers, dividing off into squads, hastened to obey 
 their leader, and soon were galloping off in contrary directions. 
 At the first order the younger brother had spurred off with a 
 party, and now in a moment the elder turned his rein to the 
 south, and the open ground was left vacant. 
 
 We owe you an apology, reader, for neglecting two very 
 interesting, or at least two very worthy characters in our story, 
 whom we have not alluded to since our first chapter. We mean 
 the parents of Captain Blakey. They had heard of his bravery 
 at Monterey, and had learned with pride that he was the favor 
 ite of his general, beloved by his soldiers, and had turned out to 
 be a man in every sense of the word. They had received but 
 very few letters from him ; for his duties, as well as the few 
 opportunities of remitting letters, had made it impossible to 
 keep up a regular correspondence. 
 
 The first news which they received of the glorious battle of 
 Buena Vista, had been through the papers, and days of agoniz 
 ing suspense had they passed, ere they could learii that he had 
 not fallen among the host of noble Kentuckians who on that 
 day sealed their devotion to their country with their heart's 
 blood. But at last the official despatches came, and his name 
 was not among the killed and wounded ; and then again in a 
 
104 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 few days more they received from him a letter, describing the 
 dangers through which he had passed, and assuring them of his 
 safety. His time had nearly expired, and they were in hopes 
 soon again to clasp him to their hearts. 
 
 We cannot better describe their feelings, than to give a con 
 versation which passed between them, on receiving a letter 
 from their son, which, as the old gentleman read it aloud to his 
 lady, we are permitted to hear. It ran thus : 
 
 "DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER: I write with a glad heart, 
 and a hand trembling with pleasure, to tell you that within one 
 week from this date my time of service expires, and I shall 
 return home, for I don't believe we shall ever have another fight 
 worth seeing in this part of the country. Tell all of the Logan 
 County girls that I'll bring home their sweethearts, all except 
 the poor fellows who fell at Buena Vista, for my company will 
 return with me, and be paid off in New Orleans. 
 
 " I did intend to bring home a Mexican wife, but I can't 
 prevail on her to make peace with me, until the war is over, so 
 that I shall come home without her, and get things ready for 
 her as soon thereafter as I can, for I am bound to have her. 
 She is such a beauty ! Eyes and hair as black as a thunder 
 cloud, teeth like pearls, a form like a picture, and moreover, she 
 can flght like a tiger I Now isn't that a wife worth having ? 
 
 "But laying aside joking, my dear parents, 1 am indeed 
 engaged to a noble girl, and shall marry her as soon as she will 
 have me. Expect me within a very few days after you get this 
 letter. 
 
 " I am now and forever heartfully affectionate, your son : 
 
 GEORGE BLAKEY." 
 
 When Uncle Ned had finished reading this letter, he laid it 
 down upon his knee, then deliberately removed his spectacles, 
 and waited for the comments which he expected from his wife. 
 But Aunt Letty spoke not; she seemed struck dumb either 
 with pleasure or surprise, at the contents of the letter. There 
 fore Uncle Ned made the first remark : 
 
 " I'm glad the boy is coming home safe and sound. It will be 
 a happy hour when I take his hand again I" said he. 
 
 " What was it he said about a wife, and her black eyes, and 
 being one that would flght?" said the old lady, abstractedly. 
 " Read me over that part of the letter, husband." 
 
 The kind old gentleman slowly fixed his spectacles in their 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 105 
 
 place again, unfolded the letter, and read again that portion of it. 
 
 " Well, I can't see why he couldn't have got a wife good 
 enough for him amongst the girls of our own neighborhood. 
 As to the fighting why, if that's true, he's a fool to have her, 
 and I'm sure blue eyes are prettier than black ones, any day/' 
 was her remark now. 
 
 " But the boy wants to bring home some curiosity of the 
 country, I suppose," said the father. " His pay is little enough 
 for such hard duty, and he deserves some reward above it." 
 
 " 1 don't know whether such a wife would prove a reward or 
 a punishment," replied the old lady, who did not much admire 
 her son's description of his intended. 
 
 "Well, it's to be hoped that she's worth having. He always 
 was a lad of fine taste he takes after his father in that way !" 
 And the worthy old gentleman chuckled at this double compli 
 ment to his wife and himself. 
 
 She, too, seemed pleased with it, for in a very pleasant tone, 
 she said, " I'm glad, at any rate, the dear boy is coming home ; 
 I'm sure that if he brought a bear with him, I'd love it for his 
 sake." 
 
 " Yes, I know you would ; and if he brought a wife you would 
 take to her as tender as if she were your own daughter. By the 
 way, it's time George was married. We are getting too old to 
 be troubled with business, and it's time we rested and took a 
 little comfort." 
 
 " Yes, that's true," replied the old lady. " But, husband, this 
 is too good news to keep from the neighborhood. The Logan 
 County girls ought to know that their sweethearts are coming." 
 
 " Yes I'll soon have the news scattered," replied the old 
 man ; " and we must have a real ' old-time ' barbecue, to wel 
 come him I wish he was indeed going to bring his wife along 
 with him." 
 
 " So do I," said Aunt Letty, forgetting how decidedly she 
 had at first been opposed to the idea. 
 
 Reader, we know you are in a peck of trouble to know the 
 fate of those whom we have left literally in the dark, those 
 whom the band of Canales were in search of, in the commence 
 ment of this chapter, and as soon as we can, we will accommo 
 date you, proceeding on our way to do so. 
 
100 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CAPTUEE OF GORIN. THE TRIAL. 
 
 A ,FEW days before Blakey's term of service expired, ho 
 received permission to return to Matamoras with his company, 
 Whence to take shipping for New Orleans, where they were to 
 t paid off' and discharged. 
 
 It is needless for us to expatiate on the pleasant thoughts 
 which must have filled those soldiers' breasts, when they 
 knew that their toil and peril was so nearly ended, that they 
 were about to return to their firesides and homes, rendered 
 cheerless by their prolonged absence; and it were painful for us 
 to look back with them upon the graves of Buena Vista, where 
 sleep some of their brave comrades, some whose relatives will 
 never again meet them on earth. 
 
 Blakey started with only his own company, mounted and still 
 under all the rules of military discipline, keeping as strict a 
 guard as if he was advancing into, instead of leaving, the 
 enemy's country. He had been only two days on the march, 
 yot had ridden fast and far, when we again bring him before 
 the reader. He always started with the dawn, so as to travel 
 as far as possible in the cool of the day, and on the morning of 
 his third day was in the saddle before daylight. 
 
 He rode rapidly along the road, listening to the cheering 
 sounds of the birds which hopped about among the dewy 
 branches, and followed close by his men. It was a few moments 
 only after sunrise, when he saw a body of men riding rapidly 
 across the road, a few hundred yards in advance of him, and 
 take their course down a ravine which led to the east. He 
 thought that they rode too rapidly for honest men, but as he 
 only got a passing glimpse at them, and cared not about getting 
 into any skirmishes now, he determined not to notice them, or 
 attempt to see who they were. But his sergeant, a quick- 
 sighted backwoodsman, had seen more than he, and riding up 
 to his side, exclaimed : 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 107 
 
 " Captain, hadn't we better overhaul them ar yaller skins 
 ahead thar? There's some deviltry agoin' on amongst 'em." 
 
 " Why do you think so? I suppose they are only peasants." 
 
 " Peasants don't carry so many tools as them ar fellers, and 
 besides they had women on their horses, held there before them. 
 I seed three petticoats, sartain." 
 
 "Are you sure ?" asked Blakey, who had now with his party 
 reached the head of the ravine, down which the others had 
 ridden. 
 
 " Sartin, cap'n; and, by golly, do you hear that?" he replied, 
 as a female shriek was heard from far down the ravine, " that's 
 one of 'em, or Dan Maple's a liar." 
 
 " Wheel to the right, and follow me, men !" was the only 
 answer made by Blakey, as he spurred down the ravine at full 
 speed. 
 
 Once again he heard that shriek, and now it seemed as if it 
 w;i$ a tone that thrilled upon his heart strings, and he drove 
 liis noble steed, his black war-horse, swift as the wind, over the 
 rocky ground. As he emerged from the ravine and came out 
 into a little grove of oaks beyond, he came in sight of the party 
 whom he pursued, and he was close upon them. They had 
 dismounted, and he saw in a moment that females were among 
 them by the fluttering of their dresses in the morning breeze. 
 
 Another sight, however, met his eye ; it was the form of an 
 officer dangling by a rope from a limb of one of the oaks, to 
 which it seemed he had just been hoisted, for he was struggling 
 horribly. The females were on their knees upon the ground, 
 while some dozen ruffians were grouped around them, still a 
 dozen more being engaged in pulling upon the rope which was 
 fastened around the neck of their unhappy victim. 
 
 Without drawing rein, close followed by his trusty riflemen, 
 lilakey dashed on, and ere the others fairly saw him, he was 
 upon them. One blow from his gleaming sabre and the rope 
 which held aloft the struggling officer was severed, the next 
 moment the same blade was crossed with the sword of the leader 
 of the party, whom now he recognized as Goriu, and who had 
 sprung upon his horse at the moment of alarm. 
 
 When each saw \ytli whom he had to fight, hate settled upon 
 both countenances, and each involuntarily shouted, " To the 
 dcatJt!" 
 
 Without heeding the others, who were already engaged with' 
 steel, and with their pistols, the two superior foes bent their 
 
108 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 sole attention to each other. Blows swift and heavy were given 
 and parried; both were excellent swordsmen, and neither 
 seemed to gain any advantage of the other, until an exclamation 
 of joy in a tone but too well remembered by him, caused Blakey 
 to turn a quick glance to one side to see if she was safe. That 
 instant enabled the quick eye of Gorin to detect an opening in 
 his guard, and with the speed of thought he took advantage of 
 it, passing his keen point inside of the other's blade, and inflict 
 ing a fearful wound in the shoulder of Blakey, who dropped his 
 weapon at the same instant. 
 
 Gorin would have finished his deed, but as he glanced around 
 he saw that all of his followers were slain or taken, and also 
 saw Sergeant Maple rushing toward him with his clubbed rifle, 
 and thinking that he yet might escape, turned his horse's head 
 up the ravine, in the direction from which he had before come 
 with his prey, and darted off at full speed. 
 
 The sergeant hastened to reload his rifle, but ere this was 
 done, the villain had passed beyond his reach up the ravine. 
 At this moment the blast of a bugle was heard in that direction, 
 and in another moment it was answered by others from different 
 quarters. 
 
 Blakey, when he fell from his horse, found himself in a 
 moment in the arms of Edwina, who attempted to staunch his 
 bleeding wound, while Anita and her mother endeavored to 
 restore General Urrea to consciousness, for he had been nearly 
 strangled by the cravat which Gorin had placed around his 
 neck. 
 
 The sergeant was about to turn to the assistance of his captain, 
 when he saw Gorin once more appear, riding from the ravine at 
 full speed, endeavoring to pass them, followed closely by a 
 *ma]l party of lancers. Quick as thought he raised his rifle to 
 his eye, and took a steady aim, not at the rider, but the steed. 
 He flred, the horse fell headlong, pitching his rider some yards 
 in advance, who had not time to regain his feet ere the lancers 
 were upon him. 
 
 "Slay him notreserve him for me!" cried their leader, in a 
 tone of thunder, a voice which Gorin, to his terror, recognized 
 ^ Hint of Licencio Canales. 
 
 Obeying this order, the lancers used their lassos instead of 
 their steel, and Gorin in a moment was securely bound. 
 
 The sergeant, meantime, had quickly formed his men, ready 
 
 repel a charge, not knowing whether he was to receive the 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 109 
 
 Mexicans now before them as friends or foes, but lie was 
 somewhat re-assured when he found that the leader advanced 
 alone. 
 
 " Thank God, it is my brother!" cried Edwina; and Blakey, 
 whose wound had been partially staunched by the hand of the 
 noble girl, gave orders for his men to fall back, and Canales at 
 once rode up, and springing from his horse, embraced his sister, 
 and responded to the salutation of Urrea and his daughter. 
 
 In a moment more another bugle was heard near, and the 
 younger Canales, with a glad cry of joy, was seen to ride 
 toward them. 
 
 "All safe, Anita Edwina?" he cried, as he leaped from his 
 steed and gazed around ; then as he saw Blakey, wounded and 
 stretched upon the ground, he cried : 
 
 " You here, too, my noble friend and hurt ? What does this 
 mean ?" 
 
 " He was hurt in once more preserving my life, and saving 
 me from the hand of our fiendish foe," replied Edwina. 
 
 " Gorin ? Was it he who tore you away from the rancho ? 
 Is he yet alive ? O, do not say that he has again escaped." 
 
 " No nor shall he now!" replied Licencio, pointing to where 
 the villain stood, with dark and lowering eyes, and a face pallid 
 with terror, between two lancers, and too securely bound to 
 think of escape; " and now, my sister, tell us how be again got 
 you in his power." 
 
 " It was but a few moments after Bonaventnra left us this 
 morning to go in search of the party whose bugle was heard, 
 that the villain, who must have watched and seen how defence 
 less we were, rushed in upon us, bound us, and placing us all 
 on horses before his men, dashed oft' at full speed, taunting us 
 at the same time with the coarsest threats. He only paused 
 when we arrived at this spot, and here commenced a drama 
 which I fear would have ended far differently for us all, had 
 not this noble American been sent by Providence to our aid." 
 
 " Yes, for the villain had already commenced my murder," 
 added Urrea, whose face was still black with the effects of his 
 strangulation. 
 
 " Well, his time has come he has prepared his own means of 
 execution," cried the elder Canales, pointing to the rope which 
 had been left dangling over the limb. 
 
 Then calling to his lancers, he bade them bring the prisoner 
 before them. Gorin turned pale and trembled in every joint, 
 
HO THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 as he was led to the spot, for he knew that now there was no 
 escape for him. He could have died in strife without fear 
 without a quiver, but even he could not look upon death, how 
 painful, death in the presence of his enemies, without fear. O, 
 it takes a man, indeed, to face such a death calmly; he must 
 have right and purity on his side, or he cannot. 
 
 When Gorin was brought to the place where but a few mo 
 ments before he had doomed a fellow-being to the death he was 
 about to suffer, he looked around as if in hopes to see one pity 
 ing face, but his glance was in vain. The females had turned 
 their heads away, and he looked upon men, who knew him for 
 the deep-dyed, crime-burdened villain that he was. 
 
 " You will not murder me, a prisoner, without trial, or a 
 chance for my life?" he asked, in tones of misery. 
 
 " No, not without a trial," replied Licencio Canales, in tones 
 so deep, so calm, so thrilling, that they sunk deep into the heart 
 of the prisoner like words of eternal doom. " No not without 
 a trial. But first place that rope around his neck, then let 
 twenty men take the other end. I wish all ready, if you are 
 proved guilty." 
 
 " Mercy mercy, for the love of God, spare me !" moaned the 
 unhappy wretch. 
 
 "Did you ever listen to the cries of mercy, dog!" cried 
 Canales. " But to the trial. I charge you with the murder of 
 my gray-haired parents! a thousand crimes have you com 
 mitted, yet that one is all I name." 
 
 " I charge you with the same !" cried the younger brother. 
 
 "And I," said Edwina, in a low, firm voice. 
 
 "I charge you with treason and deserting your country's 
 flag, and with murdering your countrymen on the field of Buena 
 Vista," said Blakey. 
 
 "And I and I," echoed each of the riflemen, who had gathered 
 noar. 
 
 The prisoner seemed unable to breathe his frame quivered 
 like an aspen leaf, hot tears gushed from his eyes he seemed 
 for the first time in all his life to exhibit one sign of human 
 feeling. When the last echo of his accusers' voices died away, 
 Canales again spoke in the same stern and thrilling tone : 
 
 " You have heard, now dare you say that all of these charges 
 are not true ? Speak, wretch, are you not guilty ?" 
 
 " Guilty guilty ; but mercy, mercy !" 
 
 " You gave it not to my gray-haired parents." 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. Ill 
 
 " O, spare me but for an hour! I am not fit to die." 
 
 ft an d were you to live au eternity of innocence now, you 
 could not wash away the past. In one minute more you must 
 die !" 
 
 " O, mercy, give me but an hour !" gasped the wretch. 
 
 The only answer was a sign from Canales to the lancers who 
 held the rope, and in another moment the wretch was choking, 
 struggling, and moaning horribly in the air; hanging by the 
 same rope which he had destined for Urrea. It was a terrible 
 but a just retribution. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 LOVE AND DUTY WAVERING. -LOVE WEIGHS DOWN THE 
 SCALP:. 
 
 THE next morning's sun found the whole party, whom we 
 left in our last chapter witnessing the end of Gorin, at the camp 
 of General Urrea. Blakey was weak with his injury, but it 
 was only a flesh wound, he was not confined to his bed, but was 
 able, with the rest of the party, to join the general at his break 
 fast table. No truce had been spoken of between them, yet 
 neither he nor his men looked upon these Mexicans as enemies, 
 nor did they regard him as a foe. The circumstances under 
 which they had met, had made them friends. 
 
 " You are on your return to your country, I am told," said 
 Urrea to our hero, as they sat at the table. 
 
 " Yes, general, for I hope that this war is over. It has been 
 a sad one for both countries one in which much noble blood 
 has been lost one which neither government can gain by." 
 
 " I wish that it was over, or that we could even see a pros 
 pect of its termination," replied Urrea. 
 
 " Do you not think it near its conclusion ?" 
 
 " No hardly at its commencement. My countrymen are as 
 stubborn as mules. They will struggle, even though defeated 
 on every hand ; you must crush, nay extirpate, before you can 
 conquer them 1 Our climate, our wild country, all favor us, 
 and act against you. Your country will find the expense of 
 such a war ruinous, and will give it up in the end in disgust." 
 
 " Possibly so," said Blakey, doubtingly ; at the same time 
 
112 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 adroitly changing the conversation, and mentioning that he 
 intended to resume his journey on that morning. 
 
 To this both Urrea and Edwina's brother made objection, 
 hedging him to remain and accept of their hospitalities until he 
 hud at least recovered from his wound. Edwina spoke not; but 
 her looks told the wishes of her heart, for when she heard him 
 speak of going, her face turned pale, her lips quivered, aud her 
 dark eyes grew moist in a moment. But Blakey was firm, and 
 gave orders to his men to make ready for the march. 
 
 However, he did not go on that day; and the only way we 
 can account for it, is by giving the result of an interview which 
 occurred immediately after the above conversation ensued an 
 interview between Blakey and Edwina. They had retired to 
 her tent to converse for a moment before parting, and here he 
 renewed again his request for her then to become his. He 
 talked in this wise: 
 
 " It ia useless, dear one, for us to await the close of this 
 tedious war; it would be cruel to delay our happiness. We are 
 both determined not again to join in it why should we not be 
 united ?" 
 
 " It is indeed hard for us to separate it seems like death to 
 me," she replied. " But how can I leave my brothers? They 
 will surely remain." 
 
 " Dear one, I lovo you more than they can !" 
 
 " That were difficult," she answered, smiling. " But again 
 there is another difficulty !" 
 
 "And it" 
 
 " Is that I fear that they will not consent to our union ; Licen- 
 cio is a deadly foe to your nation. He has been deeply, woefully 
 wronged by them I" 
 
 " But I have never wronged him !" 
 
 " No ; on the contrary, you have deserved his eternal grati 
 tude. But he loves me and has strong prejudices." 
 
 " I can overcome them," replied the persevering suitor. 
 
 " You have ! noble frieud, you have !" said a soft, pleasant 
 voice in the door-way of the tent. "An unintentional listener 
 am I ; I heard my name mentioned, and that caused me to hear 
 the following remarks." 
 
 "My brother!" said Donna Edwina, blushing and hiding her 
 face against her lover's shoulder. 
 
 " Yes, dear sister, and a brother who will never cross your 
 path of happiness with a single cloud. This noble American 
 
THE VOT.TJNTEEK. 113 
 
 has asked your hand; your heart he had no occasion to ask for." 
 
 The beautiful girl blushed, but answered not, while her 
 brother continued; 
 
 " It will be better for you to be removed from the perils of 
 this distracted country. It is my wish that you take him. Be 
 has won a right to you, by his repeated services ; you should 
 devote a life to him which he has thrice saved! Take him ! he 
 is worthy of you." 
 
 The fair girl took the hand of Blakey; then gazing for a 
 moment upon her brother's face, burst into tears tears of 
 mingled grief and gladness. 
 
 " How can I leave you, my brother ?" she sighed. 
 
 " It is but temporary, dearest; if I survive this war, I will 
 visit you, in your happy northern home!" 
 
 "And Bonaventura?" 
 
 " He shall even now go with you, if he will. Let us go forth 
 and meet him." 
 
 They went out, and before the tent of General Urrea saw the 
 general, his daughter and Bonaventura, standing, in conver 
 sation. 
 
 "Ah !" said the general to Blakey, smiling, as he saw him ap 
 proach slowly, arm in arm with Edwina. " You have determined 
 not to leave us this morning, have you not?" 
 
 " They will not go until to-morrow," replied Licencio, 
 answering for Blakey. 
 
 " They ? echoed the general. " Surely you mean that he 
 intends taking a prisoner with him?" 
 
 " Yes, he has made a captive of my sister/' 
 
 " Well, that is all right; I approve his taste, and admire his 
 courage. I congratulate you on your capture sir." 
 
 " I thank you, general ; I think I have much cause for con 
 gratulation." 
 
 Licencio now turned to his young brother, who did not seem 
 much astonished at the turn which things were taking, and 
 said: 
 
 " Will you go to the north with your sister, Bonaventura?" 
 
 " North with my sister 1" exclaimed the youth, in surprise. 
 1 No, brother, I wish to remain and serve my general, if he will 
 permit, and forgive my late error in disobeying his orders." 
 
 " Bless you, boy, I had forgotten that entirely!" replied the 
 old general ; " and, by the way, I was to have had you shot for 
 it. But you'll not be troubled about it again." 
 8 
 
114 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 " Then I may remain and serve under your banner ?" asked 
 the youth. 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it," responded the general; then turn 
 ing to his daughter, who stood pale and breathless, listening to 
 the conversation, he smilingly added, " if you wont make love 
 to my daughter." 
 
 " I had rather serve without conditions, senor," replied the 
 youth, blushing as deeply as she did. 
 
 " The only way that I can keep you from making love to my 
 daughter, it appears then, will be to make you marry her!" 
 responded the general, laughing. 
 
 "Such an order would be extremely pleasant to me, senor 
 one which I should not hesitate to obey," replied the youth. 
 
 u And you, child how would such an order please you?" 
 asked the father, as he pressed his lips to his fair daughter's 
 brow. 
 
 *' I will ever obey the wishes of my dear father," replied she. 
 
 " Then you and Bonaventura may settle the matter between 
 you no, upon second thought, I'll do it for you !" 
 
 Then turning to Edwina and Blakey, he asked: 
 
 " When will your union take place ?" 
 
 " This hour, if the lady makes no objection," replied Blakey. 
 
 " Which of course she will not do; so that I can safely send 
 for our regimental chaplain and have a double job performed 
 for I may as well put a stop to those young people's love-making 
 at once." 
 
 Blakey turned to Edwina when he spoke, and in her warm 
 look of love he saw no sign of the objection alluded to ; there 
 fore, the general at once sent an orderly for the priest. The 
 latter soon appeared, and there, in that rude camp, the marriage 
 ceremony was performed between those four young and noble 
 persons ; not with all the show and pomp which is usual beneath 
 cross-crowned domes or marble palaces, but with vows full as 
 binding, solemn and sacred as could be taken there. All of 
 that day was spent by both the troops and their leaders as a 
 i< >iiviil, but on the next morning Blakey and his few followers 
 prepared to depart on their route to the Brazos, whence they 
 were to embark for New Orleans, on their way to Kentucky. 
 
 This made one more painful scene in our history necessary 
 the parting of Edwina with her brothers. This took place in 
 the tent which had been assigned to her and her husband, and 
 as none savo the three were present, we cannot describe the 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 115 
 
 scene. After this last, painful interview, Edwina came forth to 
 where her husband and his riflemen awaited her. Her own 
 black steed was saddled for her use, and a band of her brother's 
 troops were in their saddles, ready to escort the party as far as 
 the Rio Grande on their route. 
 
 Edwina came forth, sad and pale, but her step was firm and 
 resolute ; yet her eyes were heavy with tears, for she was about 
 to separate from her brothers her only living relatives per 
 haps forever. This she felt the more, that she left them amid 
 the perils and dangers of war a war which might deprive her 
 of both of them. Licencio led her to Blakey's side, and while 
 he aided in placing her on her saddle, said to him, in a tone of 
 deep emotion : 
 
 " We give you our dearest treasure, noble American ; we 
 know that you will guard and cherish her. You have won her 
 by your own prowess. Take her, and God bless you !" 
 
 For a moment his voice choked with his emotion, and then 
 he continued: 
 
 "Should peace ever come to this unhappy country, we may 
 meet again ; but while this war continues, I shall be where foes 
 are thickest. You will often hear the name of Licencio Cunales 
 spoken, for I have brave men under me men who love liberty, 
 and will never yield an inch to your forces save with life !" 
 
 " I hope that peace will soon come to restore them to their 
 homes," replied Blakey. 
 
 " I fear me that hope is vain," responded the other, with a 
 sigh, " and I dare not dream of it. I believe not in presenti 
 ments, yet sad thoughts will come to my heart thoughts which 
 say we shall never meet again ; but if I fall, it will not be with 
 discredit." 
 
 Edwina wept, as she heard this; but she spoke not. Her 
 husband alone answered: 
 
 " Why cannot you retire from service, as do I ? O, if you will 
 but go to my home, a tender welcome shall there await you ! 
 This is not your native land." 
 
 " No, but it is mine by adoption ; and sooner would I rend 
 my own heart from my body than desert it now, in its hours of 
 darkness." 
 
 " T hen we must bid you farewell though with the hope of a 
 speedy meeting !" 
 
 " Farewell, my sister and my brother!" cried Licencio. 
 
 "Farewell, my own Edwina farewell, my brother! Our 
 
110 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 hearts go with you!" cried the younger brother. And both 
 ouce more pressed their lips to Edwina's brow, as she bent fron] 
 her saddle. 
 
 The sobs of Anita, who had before parted with Edwina, could 
 be heard from within her tent, and the scene was too painful to 
 bo kept up. Therefore, grasping again the hands of General 
 Urrea and the two Canales, and breathing again a warm adieu, 
 Blakey rode away, attended by his double escort. On the same 
 day, Urrea and Canales broke up their camp and marched t<j 
 the southwest, occupying again the passes of the mountains. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE STORM. FEARFUL PERIL. 
 
 BRIGHT and beautiful was the morning when Blakey and his 
 sweet bride set sail from the Brazos de Santiago on their return 
 to the United States. They sailed in a small schooner, the 
 "Jenny Hunt," because she was the first vessel homeward 
 bound, and they were anxious to reach port as soon as possible. 
 The whole of Blakey's company was crowded on board the 
 little craft, which, being a Baltimore built vessel, was indeed a 
 beauty in her own way. Her captain, Ned Boyntou, was not 
 only a capital sailor, but a noble, warm-hearted fellow ; and 
 when Blakey found himself afloat in this little craft, with a fair 
 breeze and a flowing sheet, he felt contented and happy. 
 
 But how often do our fairest hopes become clouded ! how 
 often are we awakened by dread realities from our brightest 
 dreams ! On the evening of the second day out, though the sky 
 was clear and the wind still fair though light, Blakey observed 
 that Captain Boynton paced the deck with an uneasy tread, 
 and that his brow, as he looked to the northward, wore a cloud 
 of anxiety. Approaching him, he asked : 
 
 ' Do you think this wind will last us to get in, captain ?" 
 
 " No, sir I'm afraid not. There's a norther brewing, or the 
 sky wouldn't be so clear as it is; bnt I reckon if it does come, 
 my Jenny can weather it. She's a staunch craft of her size !" 
 
 As the captain predicted, it was not long before the wind 
 veered around to the northward, coming at first iu fitful squalls, 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 117 
 
 then settling down Into a breeze which, as the sails were 
 trimmed aft, laid her lee gunwales down to the water. 
 
 "All hands to reef sail !" cried the captain, as he saw that his 
 vessel could not bear all her canvas. 
 
 Soon the three fore and aft sails were close reefed, and the 
 lighter sails snugly furled; then laying as near to her course as 
 she could, the schooner kept on, plunging into the heavy sea, 
 and quivering under the force of the fast rising gale. 
 
 As night came on, the wind increased, and ineii who had 
 faced the perils of Monterey and Buena Vista with a smile, now 
 began to pale and tremble for here was an enemy which they 
 could not quell. When the sun went down, it settled in a cloud- 
 bank a sign ever ominous of a gale and every one on board 
 of the schooner was on deck to witness it, as if there was a pre 
 sentiment among them that this was the last time that they 
 should ever gaze upon the god of day. Edvvina, leaning upon 
 her husband's arm, noted the look of care upon his countenance, 
 and as she saw it, said : 
 
 " We have new perils to face, dear husband, have we not?' 1 
 
 He looked in her face a moment and saw that all was calm 
 and peaceful there, then answered: 
 
 " I know that you are brave, my dear one ; therefore I need 
 not conceal from you that we are about to meet a very heavy 
 storm one that perchance will place us in much peril." 
 
 " Thank God we are together then !" she replied. " If one 
 dies, then will the other also ; come what may, we cannot now 
 be separated." < 
 
 " True, my own one ; be it life or death, your fate and mine 
 are linked forever." 
 
 The lady was about to respond, when Captain Boynton 
 coming aft, said: 
 
 " The deck is getting very wet and unpleasant, madam let 
 me beg you to go below ; it is more comfortable there." 
 
 " You are kind, sir, but 1 prefer remaining on deck where my 
 husband is; I can far better face a real danger, than fancy an 
 unseen one." 
 
 " Be it as you like, lady ; but in less than one hour the sea 
 will wash our decks fore and aft, if it continues to rise as it 
 does now." 
 
 The vessel again began to plunge heavier and heavier under 
 the force of the rising gale, and the captain soon saw that her 
 canvas must be shortened in. Though with regret, he ordered 
 
118 THE VOLUNTEEK. 
 
 both the mainsail and jib to be taken in, and then taking a bal 
 ance reef in the foresail, put her helm a lee and brought her to. 
 
 For a time she lay to, like a duck ; but the gale increased, the 
 waves became higher and more broken, and every little while 
 broke with tremendous force across her decks, forcing the crew 
 to cling to the rigging to save themselves from being swept 
 overboard. 
 
 " Lady, you must go below ! Captain Blakey, I must insist 
 upon her being removed from danger, at least; I shall have to 
 batten down the hatches; we haven't got half of this gale yet!" 
 cried the captain, in an excited tone. 
 
 But it was in vain that he insisted. The brave girl would not 
 shrink from this danger, for she knew that she had passed even 
 greater perils than this before and she would not now shrink 
 from this. Therefore she bade Captain Boynton batten down 
 his hatches as soon as he liked, for there was no need to wait 
 for her to go below she would not leave her husband's side. 
 
 Before midnight, the gale had seemed to reach its height; and 
 grand, as it was terrific, appeared the scene. Above, the great 
 black clouds rushed wildly along, groaning out thunder, and 
 spitting forth tongues of jagged lightning; the wind shrieked 
 like supernatural voices through the rigging. Below, the huge 
 waves, dark at their base, but white upon their crests, rose and 
 fell and tumbled over one another, as if an earthquake was 
 pitching a world of snow-capped mountains together. And like 
 a broken winged bird did the strained little schooner buflet with 
 this tumultuous mass now drenched and almost hidden in 
 spray, then topping the crests of the waves, as if she was about 
 to take a flight in the upper air. When the lightning flashes 
 illumined the sky and water, each face, and the expression 
 thereon, could be seen as plain as if it were at noonday. 
 
 The commander of the vessel had taken the helm himself, and 
 as the little craft came up and fell off before the gale, watched 
 each sea with deep, anxiety, and with consummate skill and 
 coolness managed to make her meet them easy. Things now 
 appeared favorable for her to weather the gale, if it did not in 
 crease any higher, for they were well over to windward in the 
 gulf, as they supposed, and had no lee shore to endanger them. 
 
 At last daylight came, and with it the sight of another sail, 
 which had been bnileting the storm like themselves. And now 
 the clouds cleared away, and the red sun rose above the waters, 
 gilding each wave crest and making the sea in the distance look 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 119 
 
 like molten gold. Yet even at this moment, when all appeared 
 to be brightening, and hope began to cheer each heart when, 
 all was brightly changing as comes a death-knell amid the 
 music of a marriage feast, came up a cry from below decks in 
 the schooner : "A leak ! a leak !" 
 
 It was but too true! The gushing dash of water in the hold 
 could be heard, and a hasty examination proved that several of 
 the bow planks had been started, and that the water was rush 
 ing in with fearful rapidity. The pumps were instantly manned, 
 but the face of the captain paled as he saw the steady increase 
 of the water, and knew that his two small pumps would be of 
 no avail to keep her free. 
 
 Now the gaze of each was fixed upon the sail in sight, which 
 seemed to be a steamer one of the large government transports, 
 so useful upon the coast during the war. She was not more 
 than a mile distant, yet the sea was too rough for her to attempt 
 to bear away to the schooner without great danger. But this 
 was the only hope for the hapless crew and passengers of the 
 latter, for she was settling fast, and had but one small boat, 
 which could not hold one-tenth of her passengers, if it could 
 for a moment live in so rough a sea. 
 
 Captain Boynton at once gave orders to hoist the American 
 flag Union down in the forerigging the usual signal of distress ; 
 and its effect upon the steamer was watched for with deep in 
 terest by many who felt that their lives depended upon the 
 aid which they thus implored. 
 
 We will now step on board the steamer the " James L. 
 Day " commanded by Captain Wood, a good seaman, brave 
 man, and a warm-hearted, generous fellow. When the dawn 
 showed him the schooner under his lee, Captain Wood turned 
 to his mate, Mr. Hudson, and as he pointed her out, remarked : 
 
 "A nasty time must that little tub have had, in such a blow 
 as this! We've had our hands full; I don't see how she has 
 
 stood it so well." fSoocxoft Libnuy 
 
 ''I reckon she has felt it; she lays mighty low in the water, 
 and by the pipers of Moses, there it goes!" replied the male. 
 
 Ills last ejaculation was caused by the signal of distress being 
 hoisUul on board the schooner. Captain Wood, as he saw this, 
 looked for a moment at the heayy sea, then at his mate. 
 
 " What can we do for them, Hudson ? It will be running the 
 risk of our own lives to bear away, with buch a sea as this 
 running." 
 
120 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 The mate, who had been steadily regarding the schooner for 
 some time through his spy-glass, replied: . 
 
 "Risk or no risk, there is another signal aboard that craft 
 which neither you nor I will desert in peril." 
 
 " What is it is she showing more signals?" 
 
 "There is a petticoat aboard of her! I can see a woman 
 clinging to the main rigging." 
 
 " Then we will do something for them, or die in trying!" re 
 sponded the noble Wood. "Were they all men, they might 
 lake men's chances as we do; but a woman makes our duty a 
 different matter. Tell the engineer to fire np ! we must try and 
 get some steam on her, for she can't show any canvas yet." 
 
 Glad were the hearts of those who stood upon the spray- 
 washed decks of the Jenny Hunt, as they saw, by the black 
 smoke arising from the stacks of the steamer, that she was pre 
 paring to come to their rescue, and again hope began to warm 
 tlu-ir fear-frozen hearts. 
 
 It was not long before the steamer began slowly to edge 
 down toward them, ever keeping head on to the sea for she 
 was managed by one who had before aided in reaching, in many 
 a fearful storm, his fellow-beings in peril. Captain Wood had 
 taken his first lessons in such work while commanding a wreck 
 er on the reefs of Florida; and his perfect skill in the present 
 case, showed that he had not forgotten his former experience. 
 
 A long hour did it seem to those on board the schooner, that 
 was spent in edging down the steamer, till she gained a position 
 about a cable's length distant on her weather bow, which made 
 a lee for her boats in their attempr to reach the schooner. The 
 latter was settling very fast; her decks were almost even with 
 the water's edge, but three well-manned whale boats now bore 
 down from the steamer, and in a few moments her whole crew 
 Blukey, his bride, and the unfortunate Captain Boynton, 
 stood in safety upon the deck of the steamer. 
 
 Within a half hour, while they were gazing sadly upon the 
 gallant little craft which had borne them through the heaviest 
 of the furious gale, they saw her pitch forward, reel for a mo 
 ment, then disappear from sight not leaving a vestige to mark 
 IMT fate to the wandering mariner. The gale having commenced 
 falling as the sun arose, had so abated before noontide, that the 
 steamer again renewed her course toward New Orleans, where 
 she arrived two days after. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE MAIL-CARKIEIl AND HIS NEWS. 
 
 DID you ever see a western mail-carrier, reader ? We have, 
 for there are many portions of our " great West" which are vis 
 ited but once a week by the mail, which is carried on horseback 
 over the mountain paths, and through forest trails which would 
 not be passable to the mail coaches which traverse more settled 
 parts. 
 
 It was not quite two weeks after the incidents of our last 
 chapter, that the carrier of the mail destined for the " Rural 
 Choice" neighborhood, was jogging along at a very easy pace 
 whistling a stanza now of one and then of another negro song, 
 making a hash of music. Had lie been aware of the good news 
 which was in his mail-bag, perhaps he%iight have touched his 
 old gray horse with the rusty spur at his right heel for he 
 wore but one ; yet to him it mattered little whether he bore the 
 news of life or death, of joy or sadness, so that he made his 
 usual time and got his pay therefor. 
 
 It was therefore near the eventide, when the carrier got in 
 sight of Rural Choice; and as he saw the eyes of several who 
 waited were fixed upon him, he spurred up his nag and went in 
 at a very respectable trot. Before the store quite a group of 
 men were assembled for now the arrivals of the mail possessed 
 a new interest to them, as it had done, in fact, ever since their 
 friends and relatives had gone to Mexico. 
 
 " Come, hurry up your cakes !" was the cry of several, as the 
 mail-rider approached; "you come like a sick snail. What's 
 the news ? Anything from Mexico ?" 
 
 " Don't know aint in the habit of lookin' in the mail-bags 
 myself!" replied the rider, at the same time pitching the leath 
 ern bag into the door of old Mr. Blakey's store. 
 
 The latter hastened to put his spectacles astride his nose, and 
 while his hand trembled with eagerness, applied the United 
 
122 TIIE VOLILNTEEK. 
 
 States key to the rusty old lock. With a grating jar it opened, 
 and then the mail, consisting of about twenty letters and as 
 many papers, was exposed to view. 
 
 The lirst letter which " turned up," was addressed to the 
 postmaster; but with commendable patience the old gentleman 
 put it aside, and commenced assorting the others. 
 
 " Here's one for you, Mr. Maple," said he to a gray-haired, 
 ruddy-complexioned man, who appeared to be about his own 
 age. " I reckon it's from your boy." 
 
 The eyes of the old man glistened, and his hand trembled, as 
 he took the letter; and glancing at the superscription, he cried: 
 
 " Yes, it is from our Dan ; I know his hand-writing as well us 
 I do a furrow of my own ploughmV And then breaking the 
 seal, he looked for a moment at its contents. 
 
 Each second thus spent seemed an age to those around him 
 for they wanted to hear the news. Meantime they, too, were 
 receiving letters from their relatives ; but old Mr. Maple had 
 the start of at least a miuute in breaking seals. Suddenly he 
 threw his hat from his head, gave a yell which might have been 
 heard a mile as it echoed through those " grand old woods," 
 and commenced clapping his hands as if the spirit of a real 
 backwoods camp meeting had lighted on him. 
 
 " What in cre-ation & the matter now ?" cried out a half- 
 dozen of the party. 
 
 " The boys are a comin' home they'll be here by to-morrow ! 
 Hurrah, hurrah !" shouted the old man. 
 
 But his stentorian voice was drowned in the shout that arose 
 from every throat in the crowd except that of the worthy old 
 postmaster, who, acting upon the principle of " business before 
 pleasure," still knelt by the side of his letter-bag and assorted 
 out its contents, preparing it for the next office, which was 
 some ten miles further along. 
 
 The huzzas of the crowd continued, as letter after letter, to 
 different persons among them, told the same glad news. At 
 last the mail was arranged, the old bag again locked, and the 
 rider, placing it upon his nag, mounted and rode off his speed 
 considerably accelerated now, for he knew that he had good 
 news under him, and he felt quite like a hero. 
 
 " Well, I reckon I'll read my news now, for I've a letter from 
 the captain," said Uncle Ned. He had always laid a stress 
 upon that word captain ever since the battle of Buena Vista, 
 
THE VOLUNTEER. 123 
 
 for, as every one said, his son had turned out to be a regular 
 captain there. 
 
 The old gentleman therefore took off his spectacles, and pre 
 pared, by thoroughly wiping them, to read his letter. But at 
 this moment a shrill, but not unmusical voice from the dwelling- 
 house porch was heard. 
 
 " Mr. Blakey O, Mr. Blakey, do come here a minute ! What 
 ar the men folks a hollerin' so for ? Has there been another 
 fight?" 
 
 " Got a letter, wife got a letter from George !" responded 
 the old man, waving the precious missive in the air. 
 
 " Do come here quick. Do come right along, for I can't 
 wait! How is the dear boy?" cried the old lady, with true 
 woman-like impatience. 
 
 " I must go, but just you all hold on here till I come back," 
 cried the old gentleman. " I want to see you about fixing 
 up things for giving 'em all a regular blow-out, when they 
 come !" 
 
 And the old gentleman hurried toward his house ; but when 
 he had taken three or four steps, a sudden thought seemed to 
 cross his mind, for he turned round to the group and cried: 
 
 " There's a keg of old rye broached there, boys, in the back 
 end of the store, if any of you want a dig all's free to-night. 
 Hurrah for the boys !" 
 
 And then came one more cheer from the party, who soon 
 took to the rye, without a wry face among them, to drink one 
 health to the Logan county boys. 
 
 When Uncle Ned got to the side of his wife, he waited not to 
 wipe his spectacles, but hastily tore open the seal and com 
 menced reading to himself, his good lady looking over his 
 shoulder as if she could read it too though, as she was with 
 out her glasses, she could scarcely make one line out from 
 another. 
 
 " Do tell us do tell us what he says ! Is he coming home 
 has he got his wife is he well when will he come what is 
 the news ? Do tell I" cried Mrs. Blakey, or Aunt Letty, as we 
 have called her, in a tone far too rapid for a response to be 
 given between the questions. 
 
 "Hurrah, hurrah!" shouted Uncle Ned, in response; and 
 then he added : " George is a comin' here to-morrow young 
 wife all right God bless him !" 
 
 His tone and language conveyed only the general idea that 
 
1JI T1IE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 he had good news, and his cheer was again echoed from the 
 crowd at the store. 
 
 Having again read his letter carefully, Uncle Ned now gave 
 Aunt Letty the joyful information that George and his com- 
 pnny were coming home, and that George was indeed bringing 
 home a wife. 
 
 "A real Mexican gal ?" asked Aunt Letty. 
 
 " Yes, I reckon so, from her name and what he says about 
 her. But we'll see when to-morrow comes." 
 
 " O, dear, what shall we do to get ready in time for 'em ? I 
 must go to baking cakes to-night, and then the back room must 
 be cleaned. O, my ! how can we get ready for 'em so soon ?" 
 cried the old lady. 
 
 " We're ready for 'em now, Letty rough and ready, eh ?" 
 And the old man laughed at this ready jest, and then he 
 added : " You may look out for the indoor fixins' I'll go and 
 see the men folks. We must have a regular Fourth of July time 
 of it, when they come!" 
 
 In a few moments a regular caucus was held in the store, for 
 it'waa now dark, to arrange for the reception of the volunteers 
 in the morning. 
 
 "Ill send a whole beef for the barbacue!" cried old Mr. 
 Maple. 
 
 "And I a hog, and I a dozen turkeys I" cried others of the 
 party ; and soon a collection was made for a regular western 
 feast. 
 
 " III throw in the drink, and all the bread fixins' and chicken 
 doins' !" cried Uncle Ned ; and when the capacities for swallow 
 ing " rye," so common to those hardy woodsmen, is considered, 
 Uncle Ned had undertaken the most expensive supply of all. 
 
 "Mustn't we have a speech made to 'em?" squeaked a lean, 
 long-visaged, no-souled looking fellow, who had been taken 
 suddenly sick when the company was raised for the war, and 
 who, under pretence of having been to a city and looked at a 
 college, passed for a scholar, in his own opinion, and who now 
 thought that he had a chance for glory. 
 
 " No, we don't want none o' your speeches, John Martin !" 
 said old Mr. Maple. " I've an idea that you might get sick 
 again, if you was to try it." 
 
 " Well, I only thought I'd offer my services," whined the 
 fellow. 
 
 " You didn't think of offerin' your ' services,' when the boys 
 
THE VOLU.STEEH. 125 
 
 made up to go to the war, and it's my 'pinion that you're a 
 regular sneak, a tarnal pole cat of a varmint, John Martin a 
 thing that nobody can touch without hurting themselves; and 
 the sooner you get out of decent people's company, the better 
 for them and you too !" cried the old gentleman, appearing 
 rather angry. 
 
 The fellow winced, as he listened to the not very choice ap 
 pellations showered upon him by Mr. Maple, and began slowly 
 to back from the crowd, muttering, as he went : 
 
 " If this isn't pretty treatment for John Junius Martin, Es 
 quire, a born gentleman, to receive at the hands of a backwoods 
 boor!" 
 
 Unfortunately for Mr. Martin, the old man heard his last 
 words; slightly misunderstanding them, however, for he 
 shouted : 
 
 " What's that you call me, you slanderin', white-livered, lyin' 
 nigger's pup, you ? Me a backwoods boar, eh ? If Dan Maple 
 was here, he'd skin you worse than he did when you lied about 
 his Mary, because she wouldn't let you court her !" 
 
 Then crying to those who stood between them, " Get clear o' 
 ray track, and let me get my paws on to that cur, and I'll show 
 him if I be a backwoods boar or not!" old Mr. Maple made a 
 rush as he thus shouted, but Mr. Martin was taken sick again, 
 and very suddenly decamped. 
 
 The confusion attendant upon this little interruption having 
 passed away, the neighbors made all their arrangements for 
 receiving George and his company at noon the next day, when 
 they were expected to arrive. There was little sleeping that 
 night at Rural Choice, or in its neighborhood. 
 
 Ever and anon the majestic old woods would echo with the 
 shout of some joyful heart, really too full of joy to repress the 
 voice ; and many a messenger rode along the narrow trails to 
 bear the news to all around that a barbacue was to be had at 
 Uncle Ned Blakey's on the morrow, and that the boys would 
 then be home from the wars. 
 
 The sun had scarcely silvered the dewy forest leaves on the 
 next morning, when the people began to pour in and it was a 
 glorious sight to see them. Old men and women, young girls, 
 fair matrons, and bright-eyed children sometimes two or three 
 on a horse they came, until full a thousand souls encircled the 
 spring which we alluded to in our first chapter, as being the 
 favorite barbacue ground. 
 
120 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 At last when the tall trees, leaving no shadow on the ground, 
 crave sign that the sun was at its meridian, the cheerful note of 
 a bugle was heard ringing loud and clear from down the road 
 which had before been passed by the mail-rider. Then, as in a 
 moment after the head of a galloping cavalcade could be seen 
 approaching, and George Blakey's noble form could be recog 
 nized, with a lady riding, too, at full speed by his side, there 
 arose such a shout as never did those old trees echo before. 
 
 Then came a weaker, yet still a gladder shout from the lips 
 of Blakey and his followers, who the next moment were among 
 them with their dark, sun-bronzed faces seamed, too, with 
 many a scar. There were not so many as when they left no, 
 Buena Vista had sadly thinned them down ! nor were they as 
 well clad ; but they had served their country, and each of them 
 was now a hero. 
 
 We need not, cannot describe the joys of meeting, or the 
 various ways in which those rude, pure, whole-hearted people 
 expressed it. All of this we will leave to the imaginations of 
 our readers, who, should any of them pass through Logan 
 county, must call at Rural Choice, and see how happy the MAID 
 OF MONTEREY is. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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