NINETY-EIGHT

ISABELLA FLASHED ME a radiant smile. The nephew gave me an indifferent glance, the empty expression of a gachupine wiping his muddy boots on the back of a prone servant. The purpose of such expressions was to let peons know they were beasts of burden, nothing more. If he hadn’t been a guest of the padre, he would have gotten one of my boots up his backside, the other in his cojones.

The padre faced a window, his back to us, when we entered the room. He turned to greet us, poker-faced. His features revealed nothing of the man who had just backed down career military officers in a furious test of wills.

“Señora, señores, I have called you here to discuss that matter of common interest. Juan is my right arm in these situations. He was away on a mission of great urgency and has not been informed of your request.” He spoke to me. “The marquesa has suffered a great tragedy. Her husband, Don Humberto del Miro, one of the most noble and distinguished Spaniards in the colony, was recently arrested by followers of our revolution who demand repayment from him for monies that the marqués took in the form of profits. Unless repayment is made, the revolucionarios holding him will be forced to implement sanctions.”

The padre was using polite terms to say that Isabella’s husband was a thieving gachupine pig and that the bandidos holding him would skin him out with hooked knives and hot pincers, then pack his bleeding carcass in rock salt if he didn’t come up with ransom money.

“I am also informed that prior to his capture, Don Humberto hid a considerable amount of gold, the proceeds from a mine sale. And, as best we know, the revolucionarios holding him don’t know his true identity, nor do they know he possesses hidden gold. Is that correct, señora?”

“Yes, we need to recover the gold before the bandidos do.”

“To buy your husband’s freedom,” I added.

Isabella’s hand flew to her mouth. “Of course, that’s what I meant . . . to buy his freedom.”

“How do we get the gold?” I asked.

The padre chuckled. “That’s why the señora is here. She doesn’t have the funds to buy her husband’s freedom and can’t retrieve the gold until her husband is free. She’s asked that I intercede. As you know, Juan, many of our revolucionarios operate independently.”

I nodded and had the good manners not to mention that some of them were more bandits than revolucionarios.

“In this case, the leader of the group—a man who calls himself General López—is not willing simply to turn over the marqués to us. He wants to be paid. After all, he has to feed his troops.”

“But of course,” I muttered.

How can they maintain themselves in pulque and putas if they don’t steal?

“Due to the panic gripping the colony, the señora cannot raise the ransom.”

“How much is he asking?”

“Five thousand pesos.”

I shrugged. “Not a king’s ransom.”

“He doesn’t know the man is a marqués. Even if she raised the ransom, she probably couldn’t get to López, who is headquartered far north in León. The entire Bajío is in the hands of the revolutionary movement. There is also the matter of insuring that General Lopez keeps his promise once he is paid.”

He nodded at Isabella. “What I have arranged with the señora is very simple: We will provide safe conduct to León. We will also pay the ransom demand to Lopez. In return, we will get half of the gold that the marqués has hidden. She believes his gold hoard to be in excess of two hundred thousand pesos.”

“Yes, that’s how much he got from the sale,” she said.

The padre raised his hands and smiled at me. “You see how simple it is, Juan? You escort the señora and her husband’s nephew to León, pay the ransom, collect the gold, and bring half of it back to me.”

I kept a straight face. “Sí, simple beyond words.”

The padre told them he needed to speak to me alone about military matters, and they left. Isabella gave me a warm smile as she exited.

As soon as they were out the door, I said, “No problem, padre. I escort these people across hundreds of miles of territory patrolled by roving bands of highwaymen and royal army patrols. If I don’t get caught and murdered by bandidos or the viceroy’s men, I pay off this López, who calls himself a general, and hope he doesn’t get suspicious and fry my feet over an open fire to find out where the rest of the money is. Assuming I fool him and obtain the marqués’s freedom, I still have to learn the location of the hidden gold and seize half of it before Don Humberto and his nephew can murder me. Then, after dodging the roving bands of bandidos and royal soldiers for hundreds of more miles, I return with the gold.”

I was immediately embarrassed. “The mission is insignificant compared to what you have to deal with every day.”

“We all have our duty to perform. Yours is as dangerous as those soldiers who receive the first volley from the enemy’s muskets. I’m asking if you will do this mission, Juan, not commanding you to do so. I’m sure you can understand the importance of the marqués’s gold to our cause.”

I shrugged. “A hundred thousand pesos is a lot of money. By coincidence, it’s the same amount the viceroy is offering for your life.”

“If I could give my life and spare our people the horrors of war, I would cheerfully deliver myself to his assassin.”

“When do you want us to leave for León?”

“In the morning, but not directly to León. The most direct route to the north would take you into the arms of royal forces. I need to get a personal message to José Torres, who is operating somewhere near Guadalajara. This amazing man was nothing more than an uneducated laborer who asked me to permit him and a few followers to seize Guadalajara. At first I was taken aback, but something about him caused me to have faith. I’ve heard that he has had some success against royal forces in the area. I will give you a message to deliver to him. Hopefully, you will be able to locate him.”

“This General López—”

“A bandit and murderer with no alliance to our cause but not a stupid man. A diamondback rattles before it strikes; López doesn’t. And watch your back with the marqués’s nephew. He needs us now, but under his breeches he’s a gachupine. Once the gold is recovered, your death would profit him greatly.”

The padre didn’t mention Isabella. I didn’t know if Marina had told him of our history but decided not to bring up the subject. I was confused as to what my own feelings were.

Father Hidalgo gripped my shoulder. “Juan, when I said you were my right hand, I didn’t express all that you have meant to me. You have been my eyes and ears, and I’ll sorely miss you. But your mission is important. The marqués’s gold can buy us cannons and muskets.”

I paused at the door while he made one more observation.

“The capital is a transcendently beautiful city. Such beauty is singularly rare and eternally precious. It would be a great sin to destroy God’s gift.”