BANCROFT LIBRARY <> THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA EDWARD PLUMMER ALSBURY GUY RAYMOND A STORY OF THE TEXAS REVOLUTION BY EDWARD PLUMMER ALSBURY HOUSTON, TEXAS: STATE PRINTIKG Co., PRINTERS 1908 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1908, by EDWARD PLUMMER ALSBURY, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. i) "7 10 i Ubnuy THIS WORK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO THE DAUGHTERS OF THE REPUBLIC OF TEXAS PREFATORY REMARKS. placing before (lie public a story of the revolution wliirb ve to Tex;is a position among the nations of the earth, the ;mlhor not i ) roscii 1 ol incidents lliat necessarily call for particular nten- of lenders, bui Inus tried to delineate the characters of the men the rank and file, whose spirit of adventure, whose hardihood endurance, made possible the ultimate independence of the ublic. Criticism is expected; for the bounds thrown around the er-day novelist have been ruthlessly disregarded in many particu- But as no favors have been asked at the hands of publishers, story has been launched upon the sea of literature on its merits, the hope that an indulgent reading public will be more charitable exacting critics and professional reviewers. GUY RAYMOND A STORT OF THE TEXAS REVOLUTION CHAPTER I. A lovely grove. Tall, stately trees with commingling branches 'orming light and darker shadows on the half sodded,, half leafy carpet made brilliant by tiny patches formed by the trembling sun- light, that struggled through the verdant canopy, as the stirring leaves yielded to the morning breeze. A gentle slope stretched to denser shades and formed the margin of a running brook, whose gurgles mingled with the music of the wood. The cliff-like bank, which marked its further edge, rose boldly, studded with pointed rock, with here and there a boulder overhanging the limpid current. \ winding path, but dimly marked, traced its way to the stream \\here, on Hie further edge, a miniature cataract fell, with pattering noise, into a basin cut by human hands from the level surface of the limestone ledge. From the basin, lashed to bubbles by the fall, the parent water escaped, through artificial conduits, to the brook, fitting scene for artist's pencil or for poet's pen to add to the th of art or legendary lore. A handsome youth, reclining easily the ground, watched the little waterfall. There was no mistaking the admiration which so plainly marked his expressive features as he gazed upon the pretty picture. The rude mallet and the chisel, ill white with lime from the soft rock and lying near, were the -tale instruments of his recent work ; and he noted, in full enjoy- t, the effect of the new direction his hands had given to the me of the cascade, through the bubbling basin and the converging lies I hat poured a single stream into the eddying waters at his I. A bright smile lighted up his handsome, boyish face as he ed from the contemplation to look up the paihwav, and he said il.ly: "I'll bring mother down to see it this afternoon." 8 GUY RAYMOND. He rose from the ground and took from its position a cocked rille which I UK I been leaning against a tree close at hand. In stature he looked lo he six feel ; his age ahoni, eighteen, and as he bent his head and lowered the hammer of the piece, light, wavy locks fell a cheek and temple fair but rosy and brown from health and exposure. KVsliug his rifle on the ground he looked inquiringly a round as if in search of some object that was missing, then gave a loud whistle, which brought a dog bounding from the upper end of flu 1 gro\e. k 'Wha| have you been hunting, Eolla? I've finished my work, except some extra touches which I will put off 'til another day. Come, old hoy ! Lei's see if we can find a. squirrel to take home. Hie on, sir!" Eolla darted off in the direction taken by the youth, fully com- prehending the command he had received. His master followed, taking the way up stream. Soon the sharp barking Of -the dog indicated that ho bad discovered something. He was making demon- strations around Hie' root of a. gigantic pecan, now gazing intently info Us branches, now looking towards the approaching youth as if in mule appeal for him to hasten his steps. "You are making a terrible fuss, Eolla! One would imagine you bad ireed an elephant from your noise." The dog whined in answer; then bristling bis back, growled and barked furiously. The youth now began to look in earnest to find out the real cause of this unusual display of Eolla's anger. He walked around (be 1 ree and peered through the branches overhead. Suddenly bo caught sight of two glaring balls, fully six inches apart, that looked savagely down upon him from a fork of the tree, high up. and concealed almost entirely by the foliage of a lateral limb. "You have treed something bigger than a squirrel, my good Eolla. .!u<( keep still until I find out what owns those shining yellow balls." The report of the rifle rang through the grove, followed by commotion among the branches and, an instant later, the unmistakable form of a, grown panther struck the ground with a thud. A few struggles and the beast was dead. Eolla, frightened al first by the sudden descent of so formidable an antagonist, resumed bis courage when assured that his master's shot had been effective. The youth, having reloaded the rifle, bent over his game to examine it or to determine the precision of his aim. "Pretty good shot, Eolla! Eight between the eyes." The high, rocky bank on the further side of the brook ]r,\( scarcely echoed the rifle shot when the undergrowth, which crowned its summit, was parted and the dark, stolid face of an Indian looked < at BUT al( ho Ki GUY EAYMOISTD. 9 cautiously down into the grove and took in the last act of the scene just described. With a grunt of surprise he drew back and was con- cealed from view. "Now, Eolla, we will leave this fellow here until I can get my sharp hunting knife to take of! his hide. You, my boy, shall have a choice piece of meat for your dinner. " Eolla seemed delighted to be thus addressed, for he cut un- numbered capers around the dead animal. His master turned to leave, possibly with the intention to fetch his knife, when a shot from the high bank again broke the quiet of the wood and the youth staggered and fell across the body of the panther. Poor, distressed Eolla, we leave you to whine in sorrow over your len master, while we use the privilege of an author to take a survey of a house, about four hundred yards from the waterfall, along the winding path that led from the grove. Three cabin-like houses, connected by passageways, built of upright poles secured in ~ie ground, the intervals plastered or daubed with mortar, and roofed ith long reed-like grass, called "tule," stood in an opening bounded y a mesquite chaparral on the wesi mid south ;mo Salado creek on the east. The buildings were of the Mexican type, called by the natives "jacals," mul were constructed from materials abounding in the country, ;me you will side with your father/' "lint .\O: he told me plenty more, about the air being made up oxygen and hydrogen, and that oxygen keeps us alive, and and I can't remember all he told me. He is reading a book that he said you would object to, but papa told him he could, as it was about the best book in our house." "If your Father said that I am certain it is not the Bible." "No", it isn't. Guy called it the 'Age of Eeason/ " "Where is your brother?" "Don't you remember? He went down to the spring that found coming out of the high bank. He says he is going to in it the prettiest thing in Texas." "Poor boy ; I suppose he must have some diversion." "He says he has plenty to amuse him. IFe likes to go out in woods by himself, with just Kolla along. Sometimes he goes without GUY RAYMOND. 1 1 his gun, and papa told him he ought not to; hut he thinks there isn't a hit of danger. He says that you and I must go down to sec ihe spring when he gets through fixing it. We must go, mamma, just' to please him." "There is your father coming, and you do not know your lesson." "I almost know it, and have yet until twelve to study." Paul Raymond had moved to the Salado, from San Felipe de Austin, whore he had first settled in the colony of the Empresario, having sought an asylum from disappointment, caused by the dissi- pation of a large property in Mississippi, in the wilds of Texas, who^o territory was now attracting the notice of the more adventurous spirits, in the Southern States, and offering a field for speculation to men of ruined fortunes and blasted hopes. On an exiended scout, a year ho fore, lie had seen the spot on the Salado, where he was now )catod, and determined to move from the malarial hanks of the razos to the high and healthy plateaus of Bexar. It was a hold >p, by a hold spirit. For in those days it was hazardous for an mericaii to live in a place so isolated as was his new home. Indian utility and Mexican jealousy wore alike to he feared; hut despile 10 advice and .warning .from friends, and Austin himself, he made movement. In the State he had left, he had been an in fluent ial tizen, a lawyer, and a man of education. He had represented the mthern counties in the Senate, and the laws of the State bore the ipress of his legislative ability. A wife, 'son and daughter composed his family, and these, with Irishman, employed to be jack of all trades, were the only beings the settlement. The children, Guy and Stella, had been taught a private tutor, but since coming to Texas the father and mother id assumed the duties of the teacher. They were far advanced for jir ages, both having apt minds and inclinations to study.. This especially true of Guy Raymond, who was well read and con- it with 1 Horary subjects that are familiar to few minds not ssessing the advantage of maturity. His mother often called him dreamer, but his father, whose skepticism he inherited, pronounced already a thinker. "Where is Guy?" asked the father, as he entered the house. "He is off with Rolla, engaged in some project about the new 'ing he said he had found," replied his wife. "He worked on if. some yesterday; but as it was Sunday, he would tell you of it. lie will make a nice job of it, I'll bet. Guy does vtlihig well." ''Working on Sunday is one result of your infidelity." 12 GUY RAYMOND. "Such employment is not work. It's the purest amusement to boy. Know your lesson, Stell'?" "Very nearly, papa/' "That's a good girl. I want you to study well and it will take one argument from your mother against our move to Texas." "There is a shot! Did Guy take his rifle?" "Yes, papa. I saw him get it." "He has shot a squirrel, I suppose. I heard Holla's bark a minute before/' "Did your Irishman come with you ?" asked his wife. "No, he is splitting out the boards for the barn. He proposed to sf:iy and let me take him his dinner." "There is another shot, papa, I expect Guy lias killed another squirrel." "Doubtless, if he aimed at one, for he is a fine shot with a rifle/'' "He beat the Mexican shooting, the other day, and he told brother he had never been beaten so badly before." "How did Guy make out with his Spanish?" "Very well, although brother said that the Mexican's pronuncia- tion was so unlike the real Spanish lie had to gue-s at some of his words." "It is not to be wondered at; these Mexican half-breeds have a dialect of their own." "It is nearly noon," said Mrs. Raymond. "I wish Guy would come in so that he will be ready for dinner. Stella, takte the small bucket and get some drinking water. I presume your brother will be here presently." Stella took the bucket and having donned her bonnet went for the water. Her destination was a little spring under the bank of the creek, near at hand, to which a path led through the bushes oi im'M[iiito. She tripped along with her bucket, casting side glances toward the grove to see if she could catch a glimpse of her brother Arriving at tho spring she scooped it out with her hands, and ther waited for it to clear itself. This she repeated again and again, b} way of amusement, taking no account of the flight of time. Finally a strange shout, which seemed to come from the plateau above, causec her to realize how long she had remained playing in the spring, am (hat perhaps they were waiting for her return with the water. Shi Tilled her bucket and started to ascend the steep bank, when sli< hoard the report of fire arms, followed by demoniac yells from ih direction of the house. Her first thought was "Indians !" Her next concealment. Wifli a. In-art full of terror and apprehension for he GUY EAYMOND. 13 parents' safety, the child crept cautiously through the thicket, to the left -of the path, and setting down her bucket, stealthily proceeded to a position whence she could view the open ground. The scene completely overpowered her, and she fell moaning and sobbing, and calling piteously for her father and mother. CHAPTEE II. ho had fallen across the body of the panther, was wounded in the scalp by a shot from the opposite height. He was just re- gaining consciousness when he heard the same yells from the house, ich had so terrified his sister. He had not sufficiently regained senses to comprehend the full meaning of the sounds, but he ggled to a sitting posture, when he was caught from behind and his arms securely pinioned. Two dirt}^-looking Indians confronted him. One of them had secured his rifle, and both were making signs and, apparently, talking about the slain animal. The youth now began to realize his own danger, and that of his family. He remembered the shouts which greeted his ears, on the return to con- sciousness, and his fears multiplied when he saw smoke and flames in a direction which told him, as plainly as language could express, that the Indians had done their fiendish work in the home which con- tained his all in life. Oh! for freedom and his rifle. He would sell his life dearly and avenge to some extent the cruel work of the savages. Dread suspense ! His mother! His little sister! What was their fate? Poor Kolla! Even he was gone. Perhaps the poor dog had considered him to be dead and had gone to mutely convey the news. It would be difficult to depict in words the emotions that crowded the breast of the prisoner in the space of the few moments succeeding his recognition of the character of his captors. The latter now mo- tioned him to move on, and before he had time to obey, one of them seized his arm and pushed him along. They took him in the direction of what was once his home. On passing the scene of his morning's work he cast a sad look at the waterfall still pouring its ceaseless stream into the basin. How different it sounded now! Then, its music seemed like an harbinger of joy something to soothe him when he would seek the fairy spot, to muse and speculate, to commune with nature. Now, it was the sad requiem of his hopes. The grove once cleared the opening disclosed the smoking remains of the house, while to one side stood a dozen Indians, around a pile of 2-r 14 GUY EAYMOND. plunder. If there had been any victims, they were not to be seen, and a hope succeeded that his people had escaped. Thus encouraged, he recovered his composure, and was now satisfied that Eolla had gone with the family. The Indians had already secured the horses belonging to his father, and proceeded to pack them with sundry articles from the pile. After he had been inspected by the whole party he was placed in the custody of a tall, raw-boned Indian, who ordered him, by signs and several unintelligible sounds, to go with him. Guy obeyed, but found it to be difficult to keep up with his guard. They soon crossed the little brook, near where it emptied in the Salado, and ascended the bank on the further side to the high ground constituting the forks of the two runs. About a half-mile further on they reached the camp of the Indians, which had been left in charge of two warriors and two squaws. Near a small fire sat the two latter. one old and wrinkled, the other young and just about grown. To this point the tall Indian directed his steps with his prisoner. The two women arose from their squatting positions and began, in their gutteral monotones, an evident discussion of the events of the morn- ing. They devoured Guy with their eyes, pulling at his coat and going through his pockets. The old one appropriated his knife and two small keys on a ring. One of the latter belonged to his trunk, the other to the little box in which were kept those treasures, odds and ends, valuable to a boy, and little mementoes of the happier days spent in the place of his nativity The younger squaw claimed his handker- chief, which she held up before her for inspection, and then amused herself by picking at the red embroidered letters in one corner, which spelled his name. He thought of the little hands which had worked those letters her first attempt and wondered where they then were. The response was the scene of desolation across the creek the smould- ering ruin, the yelling savages and the most agonizing feature of the cruel tragedy the cloud of uncertainty that veiled the fate of his dear ones. Dejected, crushed by the weight of his reflections, hg sank in tears at the foot of a tree under which he had been halted, and bowed his head upon his knees. The wound in his scalp pained him exceedingly; the clotted blood had hardened in his hair and produced irritation. His bowed head disclosed the cruel wound much exaggerated by the mass of coagulated blood, and the crimson stains that marked his neck and discolored his clothing. A hand upon his head interrupted his reflections, and, starting from his painful reverie, he beheld the young squaw bending over him. She had brought a horn full of water from the creek, and wet- ting the handkerchief she indicated that she desired to wash his GUY KAYMOND. 15 wound. He could only submit, and the girl proceeded to wet his head, while he bent forward to allow her treatment without incurring a wetting. By degrees she removed the traces of blood and, closing the wound, tied the handkerchief over it. He made signs to her to loosen his bound arms, but she replied with impatient motions in the negative. The older woman and the men had disappeared during the time while Guy had his head bowed upon his knees. He had only a squaw to contend with, but his arms were securely tied, and the squaw had weapons at hand and knew how to use them. The noise f approaching Indians indicated the coming of the fiends with their kinder, and perhaps with the crudest of intentions towards their risoner. Guy's active mind had already been involved in speculation as his fate, and it was not without 'apprehension that his ear caught e sounds. The squaw suddenly changed her position and demeanor, he sprang from a seat and, resuming her rifle, stood facing her arge, as if she were closely guarding him. Guy thought he read in is a fear lest her recent ministrations might be discovered by her eople To avoid suspicion that she had betrayed the weakness of mpathy, she had assumed a vigilant attitude. The party filed into mp, passing near their captive, one of them rudely snatching the andkerchief from his head and dashing it in his face. A discussion h .hen followed, apparently about something of great importance. The 11 Indian was especially demonstrative in his gestures, and loud in is talk, appearing to wholly dissent from the views of the others. Finally the council came to an end. With grunts and yells they parated to seek their ponies which, securely hoppled, were grazing near. The animals were brought in, the packs adjusted, and the band moved off one after another, except the two squaws, the tall Indian and another of low stature, who appeared to be a half-breed, as his skin was brighter, resembling the lower type of Mexicans. These were also making preparations to leave. A pony was produced for the prisoner; his arms were unbound and he was directed to mount. After securing his feet with a hopple, passed under the horse, the party started off, the tall Indian taking the lead, the others following, leading the prisoner's animal, the two stolen horses packed with the booty bringing up the rear. The wild country grew wilder as the parly moved on their pathless way, along the timber of the creek, pointing to the distant hills whose blue summits piled up, tier upon li'-r, blended in one dark belt beneath the bright horizon. The young prisoner's arms were sore, his wound was throbbing, but the greatest >ain was in his heart, which was crushed under the weight of the tainty hanging over the fate of father, mother and sister. pain 16 GUY EAYMOND. The morning had been so happily spent at the waterfall in an occupation so congenial to his nature; in the maturing of an artistic conception, planned weeks before to give a pleasant surprise to his family. There could be no overruling Providence in the wreck of so many hopes. The Indian ponies were travelers, and good progress was made by a uniform,, ambling gait, which they were not. allowed to break. The timber of the creek had long been left to the right and the sun was nearly touching the western hills when the party entered the outskirts of a dense cedar brake, which extended up a canon, formed by the first well-determined hills of the chain they had been approach- ing. The dry bed of a run that drained the canon and its tributaries furnished the passway through the dense growth. The sure-footed ponies, accustomed to the rough courses of Indian travel, made good headway over the rocky, broken surface; but the pack horses fre- quently stumbled and had to be urged forward At length a small canon, to the left, disclosed a miniature lake with rocky margin and enclosed by a wall of cedars. To this the guide directed his course and, in a few moments, halted the sad procession at its edge. The savages at once dismounted and began preparations to camp. Guy was released from his pony, stiff and sore from his long ride without a saddle, and was forced to gather fuel under the surveillance of one of the Indians. Before dark the horses had been placed to graze and the packs disposed upon the ground. By the aid of punk and steel a, fire had been started, and was crackling its flames through the dry twigs and branches, lavishly supplied from the adjacent thicket. The picture was wild and interesting. The placid surface of the water reflected the light green of the cedars, whose pointed tops surmounted each other in regular gradations, as their positions marked an increas- ing altitude on the side of the gorge. The column of smoke rose thick and blue, settling lazily overhead, then floating slowly back, enveloped the treetops in long, thin stretches, then assumed fantastic shapes as it cleared the foliage. Below, along the narrow space, where the water encroached upon the timber, on either side, grew a species of rank mountain grass, and here the Indians disposed them- selves to the abandon of the camp. Rations of jerked beef had supplied the necessities of the evening meal, to which the prisoner had been invited, but of which he had no inclination to partake. Fortunately for him, he was allowed to possess himself of a blanket, one stolen from his own home, and upon this he stretched his tired limbs. Darkness had settled over the hills a long time before he was wooed by the wiles of slumber. His rest was fitful and he relapsed GUY EAYMOND. 17 into a dreamy stupor, while contemplating the grim form of the tall Indian as he squatted by the fire, with perfect immobility of features, except when casting a glance, from time to time, to become reassured of his prisoner's presence. It was nearly daylight when he awoke, and his first realization was the contact of a warm body with his back and shoulders. Feeling of the object he discovered it to be a dog, and the low, familiar whine, responsive to his touch, proved it to be Eolla. Guy's satisfaction was intense. He hugged and caressed the faithful dog, while his heart was full of emotions He whispered : i"Dear Eolla! Oh Eolla! Where is- father and mother and little ster? Oh! If you could only talk. You must have been with them since you left me in the grove. How can I be glad to see you, dear old dosr, since your coming causes me to doubt, still more, their safety ? w The dog nestled closer to his master and expressed, in his mute ay, his unfeigned sympathy. The captive boy no longer felt that complete desertion he experi- iced the evening before. One sympathetic heart in the camp beat >r him, and although it pulsated in the body of a dog, it possessed merit of fidelity. The bright July sun had mounted well up above the hilltops before the Indians bestirred themselves and, from their slow move- lents, it was apparent that no speedy departure from their camp is contemplated. The appearance of Eolla excited their surprise, id they had much to say in their unintelligible talk concerning new arrival. Their close inspection of Eolla elicited a deep )wl and a movement to a position still nearer his master who, iring that such defiance might lead to his cruel usage, commanded to be silent. No violence, however, was offered to the faithful cute, and Guy experienced a feeling of relief as he saw the larger ivage disappear down the canon, followed by the two squaws. The lort Indian remained on guard and Guy was wishing that he could )eak their language in order that he might sound the fellow, to learn is probable fate. While still in this train of thought he was much irprised at being accosted by the Indian in rather imperfect Mexican. "Hablas Mejicana?" he inquired. "Yes, I speak it pretty well/' Guy replied in the same language, the same time eagerly assuming a sitting, from a recumbent, 'ition. "What your name?" "Guy," was the ready answer. 18 GUY KAYMOND. "My name Pedro." "Pedro is a Mexican name." "Me Mexican not Indian." "What are you doing with the Indians then?" "Me so big when Indian kill my people. Me same as Indian*, but my people Mexican." This to Guy was encouraging information. Might not this fello^ have yet a little of the milk of human kindness left, despite his long absence from civilization ? Then he remembered that Mexican treach- ery was but one degree removed from savage barbarity, and the new- born hope fell under the reflection. "Pedro, do you kill people for nothing, just like the Indians ?" "Indian make me kill plenty. Me same as Indian." "Do the others speak any Mexican?" "Muy poco, few words/' "Will these people kill me?" "Maybe so, if you not be Indian, like me." "Pedro, will you be my friend and tell me what to do?" "Me be friend, if you be Indian. You no want be killed and if Indian want, he kill you. He not kill you when you be same as Indian. All Indian want kill you, but Walumpta say no. He say, maybe so, you be same as Indian. He say you pretty and shoot gun well. Walumpta shoot you in head." "Who is Walumpta?" "Walumpta chief." "Is he the Indian who has just left here with the squaws?" "Yes, he Walumpta. He gone to make smoke on the mountain. "He shot me, then saved my life," mused Guy. "What tribe do you belong to, Pedro?" '"Lipan all Lipans." "And where are those who left the camp yesterday before we did? : "Gone; steal horse on El Cibolo. Walumpta gone to big mountain. He make smoke so other Indian come here, when they steal plenty horse. Squaws go find plums. Plenty plums in big canon." Guy looked in the direction of the mountain and recognized as one he had often seen from the new home on the Salado. It w the highest point for mile? around and he had been told that it w called "Indian Lookout." "Well, Pedro, if I turn Indian, will you be my friend and that my good dog j^ W ell treated ?" "Pedro be your friend ; all Indian and squaw be friend too." Guv would have asked him concerning the fate of his family, and GUY EAYMOND. 19 the question rose to his lips., but it .merely trembled there for a moment, while the great lump in his throat choked down all possibility of its utterance. The tears fell from his eyes and dropped upon the upturned face of .Holla, who looked, as if in wonder, at his master's familiar talk with the barbarian. Guy began to discern the bare possibility of escape in the assumption of a new nationality, and resolved to feign an earnestness of purpose to that end that would deceive even the cunning of an Indian. He reclined again on his blanket, while he gave his new intention his profoundest thought. While thus engaged he suddenly saw a smoke rise from the top of Indian Lookout, and called Pedro's attention to it. "Walumpta up there," said Pedro. "And here comes the squaws/' said Guy, as the objects of his rniark came in sight down the canon. Then, as if he thought it st to make the announcement before "the return of any of the ibsentees of the party, he said to his guard : "Pedro, I want to be an Indian." The words cost him an effort, but he had made a resolution. Pedro manifested some, satisfaction at the announcement, and rave Guy to understand that when Walumpta returned he would lake known his deter mi nation, but that some test would be required prove his sincerity of purpose. "Chicha be glad," he added. "Who is Chicha?" "Chicha my squaw; look, she come." The two squaws now approached, each carrying the plums they iad been gathering. Pedro communicated with them, at which the mnger one seemed to become interested, while the elder remained ilent, merely casting an indifferent look in the direction of the msonef. The former, to still further prove her satisfaction, suddenly >ssed over to Guy and stooping down opened the cloth containing ler plums, and motioned to him to help himself from its contents, [nstead of complying he fell back as if he had received an electric lock, and covered his face with his hands. Eolla, not compre- lending, bristled his back and growled in anger. Poor Guy! The loth which held the plums was an apron, worn by his mother the lay before. 20 GUY RAYMOND. CHAPTER III. Summer had ripened into Autumn. On the hills and in valleys, chaparral and forest had put off the green and assumed their gaudy foliage. Winter had come again and melted into Spring. The birds sang as sweetly and the flowers bloomed as profusely as in preceding seasons. The mellow sunlight cast pleasant shades and picturesque shadows. Cooling waters laved the bold banks of rivers and the mossy margins of rivulets. Nature transcendantly beautiful smiled through every feature of her creation. The little fall, on the Salado, still poured its crystal water into the bubbling basin to find its way, in ceaseless current, to the stream below. The grove, still beautiful in its garb of verdure, still stately in its giant trunks, still resounding , with the music of the woods, had not, perhaps, been trodden by human feet since the day when the young dreamer had rested in admiration of his work planning future hours of happiness beneath its umbrage; for was not there the rude mallet, and there the rusty chisel, with blade just visible from out the matted leaves? The winding path, scarce worn to plainness by the unfortunate settlers, was now hidden by the fallen foliage. Here and there a bleaching bone, and further on a grinning skull, bespoke the feast of the wolves as they scattered the severed remains of the dead panther in their fight over the prey. Out in the bright sunshine in the opening where stood the home the grass was struggling from out of the cinders, now only discernable by the black remains of charred substances lying loosely above the weatherbeaten mass. Is there nothing further to indicate the tragedy of the year before ? Let us approach the old oak, whose shadow once fell across the doorway of the apartment where Stella and her mother sat 'on that fatal day. Yes, those two mounds speak eloquently, and we, who know of the sad occurrence, would be at no loss to guess who lay beneath, even if those rough stakes did not bear the initials of t'he dead. Down there, leading to the little spring, is still the path along which Stella tripped for water, while she looked in vain for the appearance of her brother, who lay, all unconscious, across the carcass of his victim. Perchance we could find the cup and bucket which the frightened child had abandoned, ere she surveyed opening filled with howling savages. But why linger in this devoted spot, and court the melancholy which its reminiscences engender? Other scenes demand our atten- tion, through which we will follow the fortunes of Guy Raymond, f.nf] leave to the future to unravel the fate of his sister. :Kt;i 7 Olv wan I GUY RAYMOND. 21 Picture a range of hills, shaggy with alternate growth and crag, timbered or bald as the chances of flood or eruption had denuded of soil the rising steppes, or left it to support the stunted thicket in its precarious tenure above the mass of limestone. Extending west by south for an hundred and fifty miles or more, this range was flanked by pretentious spurs thrown off diagonally to the north- east with intervals of miles of level or undulating surface of open country, through which coursed, ever and anon, a stream or run. seeking its way to the Colorado or to reinforce one of that river's tributaries. These runs were fringed with the inevitable lines of timber, giving variety to the prospect and shelter to the timid herds, descending from the hills to graze, or slack their thirst at some favorite waterhole. Through these wild valleys roamed the buffalo, the mustang, the deer and the antelope, hunted by the Indians, not wantonly, but to satisfy the necessities for food and; raiment. It was to one of the most southern of these spurs that Walumpta guided the party which held Guy a prisoner; it was here we left them encamped while the signal smoke was rising from Indian >kout to attract the attention of the raiding band. The two parties having formed a junction on the afternoon of at day, they took the trail leading east by north, along the range, to the headquarters of their tribe "on the distant San Saba. Across the projecting spurs and through intervening lowlands the party pursued its course without incident save an occasional dash after a herd of buffalo, the shooting of a deer, or the stampede of a drove of mustangs. Despite his load of sorrow, the bold riding of the Indians, the excitement of the chase, the grand, wild scenery and the novelty of the situation in which, by a most sudden transition, he found himself, so engrossed the mind of the prisoner as to detract much from his mental depression. # * # # It was one of those days when the temperature attains that equipoise, between the extremes, winch is to be found in the altitudes of the highlands, and which makes this world seem a paradise by reason of the invigorating effect of the atmosphere when inhaled by healthy lungs and expanding chest. From the top of the ridge, con- st'tnting the northern extremity of the range, hitherto described, could be seen the timber of the Colorado joining that of the Red Fork. To the west was a small chain of hills extending so far north as to touch the picturesque groves of Lipan and Kickapoo springs, while to the southwest a vast plane stretched away in the direction 22 GUY EAYMOND. of Devil's River and the Pecos. Below, nestled in a mountain valley, through which coursed the San Saba, was an Indian village, built upon the pricipitous banks of that stream. To the casual observer it would have been difficult to locate any approach from the outer world to this nest of the Indians, so completely was it hedged in by its abrupt and rugged surroundings. Few individuals could be seen about the village, other than an occasional passer from one lodge to another, or a group of youngsters practicing with bow and arrow at a target on the opposite bank of the river. A peep into the gorge- like bed of the latter would have disclosed several of the Indian women engaged in washing pounding with sticks articles of clothing lying on the smooth flags that abounded in the bed proper. At the upper end of the valley a herd of ponies was slowly moving towards the foot of the hills, the animals cropping grass as they went. Over the hills to the east was a narrow trail pursuing a devious course towards the settle- ment. It was little better than a cattle track, for the lazy bucks of the tribe were too indolent to fell a tree, clear a thicket or remove a stone to secure the conveniences of a direct path. Along this trail two horsemen were approaching the valley and both were, apparently, Indians. The one in the rear bore behind him the carcass of a deer, from which the warm blood still dripped, and which seemed to demand his attention, between the snatches of a nasal monotone that might have been intended for an air, to keep it from slipping to one side or the other. The first horseman, upon a closer scrutiny, would have disclosed features decidedly non-Indian and his complexion, though exceedingly browned, looked most suspiciously Saxon. He wns dressed in Indian costume even to moccasins. A jaunty cap, made of some pretty fur, protected his head. Unlike his companion, he rode upon a handsome Mexican saddle. The two had reached nearly the highest point in the hills when he who carried the deer exclaimed, in Mexican : "Caramba!" "What is the matter, Pedro?" asked the other in the same language. "Can't you see ? Deer fall off again." "I'll help you put it up again." "Next time you kill deer, you pack him. You 'fraid dirty y fine saddle." "Come! Pedro, cease your growling. You know you offered to pack it, and now you are complaining. It is just like you Indians. When I used to play with little white children, we called the one 'Indian giver' who would give a thing and be sorry for it afterwards." ... GUY* RAYMOND. 23 "Pedro is no Indian, but Indian steal me and make me Lipan. Chicha my squaw now and Pedro always be Indian." "If you made one change to Indian, you certainly can make another back to Mexican." "Peuede ser but Pedro Afraid to try. Lipan and Mexican fight so much fight all the time." "The more reason you should side with your people. You were as savage as the rest the last fight we had with the Mexicans." "Es verdad but you, you killed six more than Indian kill. You get fine saddle and fine name ; Indian call you 'el bravo/ ". "True, too, but I had to prove my Indianship, and besides I wanted a good saddle. More than that I was not fighting my own people^ but a merciless race who never spare an American prisoner." "Then, Senor Bravo, Mexican is worse than Indian and Pedro jtter stay with Chicha." "Take her with you." "Will Laoni go with you?" "Talk not of her, Pedro. She is not my squaw, and can never be. le. I owe her my life; yet "Walumpta say Laoni must be squaw for El Bravo, and Laoni has eyes only 'for you." "She will forget me. She only feels an interest in me from the fact that she kept me from being burnt alive." "If ten squaw keep Pedro from burning, Pedro take all ten. Pedro no like fire." "If that were the penalty, in my case, for living, I'd take fire, first, last and all the time," thought Guy. "Come, Senor Bravo, this squaw talk make us forget about deer." "Ta'ke hold then; now, up with it. I think it will stay this time." The deer secured, the horsemen commenced the descent into tho valley. Pedro took up his monotonous refrain, while his campnnion rode in silence. Peaching the edge of the village, they turned to the right and directed their way to the upper portion, where, in the door of a lodge, stood the slight figure of an Indian girl. She was fon- dling a dog, who would stand on his hind legs and place his paws on her shoulders, while his head was being stroked. At sight of the horsemen the dog ran quickly to meet them and almost leaped to the saddle of the first, in his demonstrations of delight. "Ah, ha, Mr. Eolla ! I stole a march on you this morning. Where were you straying, sir?" "What is El Bravo saying to the dog?" asked the girl, in the Lipan dialect. 24 GUY KAYMOND. "Laoni is not jealous of the dog," said Guy. "Not jealous, but Laoni does not like the words." "They are the words of my mother-tongue." "You speak the Lipan why speak any other ?" "I spoke them to Eolla ; they are the words I spoke to him, like to a friend, before I ever saw Laoni." "You have known him longer and like him better." "Have you nothing better to be jealous of than a dog? Laoni knows that since the clay she saved me from the fire I would risk my life for her. Because of her I slew the enemies of her people and earned the name of Bravo. Her good act saved these strong arms for service, and I have used them to repay the debt I owe her. If a buffalo falls or a deer drops at the sound of my rifle, straightway it is hers. Here, Pedro, undo the buck. See, Laoni, here is my offering of today. It is another grain of sand to make up the mountain I owe you." "Laoni wants not a deer, nor a buffalo, nor a prairie full of them, as pay for what came from her heart. Your living body is her reward, and she asks no more than to see her Bravo happy in the strength of his manhood, and to receive his kind words." "Walumpta has treated me like a son, and Laoni is my sister." "If Walumpta make you his son, it was for Laoni's sake. Laoni's love is not the love of a sister. A sister's love can fail, but Laoni's, never!" "Pedro has hung the buck to the tree without help," said Guy, impatiently. "And will skin it without help, if you and Laoni stand there jowering and making long faces," said Pedro, using the language of his adoption more fluently than the Mexican. "Call Chicha, or the Muja, to help. It is enough to kill a deer, without having to skin it." "I'll call both and make them finish it, for it is more work to pack one deer a mile than to kill many." Laoni retired into the lodge, while Guy walked away in a moody state of mind. The latter's domicile was unlike any other in the village. With Pedro's help, he had constructed it more on the plan of a Mexican jacal, except the roof, which, in lieu of tule, was covered with buffalo skins tightly stretched and well secured. The Indians had fully intended to sacrifice their young prisoner, on their arrival at the San Saba. His acquaintance with the Spanish language, as it happened, was the remote cause of his preservation from a painful death. It interested Pedro, who yet had a tender place in GUY EAYMOND. 25 his heart for the old tongue, and through him the chief became prepared to yield to the pressure of potent influences. Walumpta was the chief of one faction of his tribe, which was divided on some questions, reaching, however, merely local considerations, as in all extra tribal policy and diplomacy the Lipans were united. The chief had saved the prisoner's life when captured, but promised "to deliver him up to the torch on their return to the village. While half regretting his promise, Walumpta did not like to disappoint his fol- lowers, but deferred the execution, from time to time, until weeks had passed. Pedro had made good use of this time by contriving to throw the young white man frequently into the company of the prepossessing daughter of the chief. The latter became interested in the story of the prisoner, in his desire to be adopted by the tribe, and in Pedro's praises of his prowess and marksmanship, which he held up to his attentive auditor as fitting accomplishments of one who was the impersonation of manly grace and beauty. Laoni's desire to listen generated into a wish to visit and speak with the unfortunate. The Indian girl had a woman's heart, which either prompted her to a noble resolve or caused her to succumb to the attractions of the ideal created by Pedro's recitals. Pedro had posted Guy as to the murderous intentions of the Indians, and outlined his policy to defeat their purpose. The terrible extremity in which he found himself must be an extenuating circum- stance, if Guy Eaymond encouraged the rising interest which Laoni manifested, by repeating to her in their interviews certain telling sentences in the dialect learned from Pedro. Finally, by the advice of Laoni, Guy sent a formal request to the chief that he be permitted to become a member of the tribe, promising, if his request were granted, to faithfully defend the people of his adoption against all enemies and to conform with the rules and customs established by and common to the Lipans. Laoni lent her influence to the petition, and Walumpta called a council of the Indians to consider the matter. The meeting was a stormy one, for the burning of the white man was to be a jollification extraordinary, and the majority were opposed to entertaining the petition. At this juncture the daughter of the chief, roused to the extreme of interest, entered the circle of the squatting warriors and held out her hand for silence. Her mien was majestic; her manner pregnant with simple enthusiasm. The wondering council, made mute by^the movement, interchanged expressive grunts and then silently awaited her speech. With heaving chest, expanding nostril and eyes dilated, slio thus addressed them: 26 GUY RAYMOND. "My fathers: Laoni is tne daughter of the tribe; the good of her people has been to her as dear as her own life. She would give her life for her people. It is said the white men were coming to take the country of the Lipans. You know, my fathers, that our land had been seized by the Mexicans who came from beyond the long river, before the coming of the white man. Our warriors who have been to the lower country tell us the Mexicans are fighting the white men. Shall we help our enemies ? Every white scalp you take, every drop of white blood you spill, is good work for our enemies. Our fathers, long ago, had their hunting grounds from the Colorado to the great water, when the strangers came from beyond the long river and made their homes on the San Antonio. They told our people of a Great Spirit who was a friend to the Mexican and who would be a friend to the Indian. The Indians who listened and went to worship their Great Spirit were made the slaves of the black gowns. From sun to sun the Indian bent under the heavy stones to build houses for their Great Spirit. To pay us they have robbed us of our hunting grounds. The prisoner that you would burn has never fought the Indians, and his people are the enemies of the Mexican. Shall it be said that the Lipan is worse than the Mexican ? The young white man is brave ; the Mexican is a coward. The pris- oner is wise, for he already speaks the words of the Lipan ; he is good, for after all the harm you have done him he asks to be one of our tribe. My fathers, Laoni asks for his life. She asks you to make him a brother ; and when the moon will throw the long shadows from the mountain, let him fight with our warriors. The daughter of the tribe, the child of Walumpta, will answer for his bravery." Laoni's words produced the desired effect, and Guy was saved. A few of the warriors shook their heads depreciatingly and some o:. the squaws howled in their disappointment. The test was made on the -first foray, when the Lipans, accom- panied by Guy, attacked a train of Mexican carts under escort. His fearless conduct and exquisite marksmanship, in the fight, gained him the sobriquet of "El Bravo/' and confirmed him in the confidence of his dusky comrades. It was a severe ordeal, but he was young, and his ambition, with a conscious capability, made him impatient to penetrate the future as it advanced to meet him on the rapid wheels of time. Among his troubles there arose a crowning perplex- ity. He was beloved by the young Laoni who, in the simplicity of her nature, did not hesitate to make it known to him, or to keep him in remembrance of it. He discovered that in her attributes, which raised her far above the level of the Indians, and he en- GUY RAYMOND. 27 deavored, as he progressed in the mastery of her dialect, to instill in her mind the ideas and obligations of civilization. How could she help loving him? The knowledge of her attach- ment was a solace in his banishment, but he feared that when it would reach its full fruition it must eventuate in her disappointment, if not in more serious consequences. While consorting together fre- quently he was cautious to not evoke allusion to her love, and so shaped his words and planned his acts, as to fill, to the full, the measure of her happiness, by his companionship, without raising the reflection as to what it might all be tending. CHAPTER IV. A little distance, perhaps a quarter of a mile, above the Lipan village, the water of the San Saba poured over a fall of several feet. perpendicular descent was made with even, glass-like surface until it reached a mass of broken rock at the base, through which, roaring and leaping in foamy masses and whitened spray, it escaped to the level bed below. A mile or so further on was the river's source where, welling up from solid ledge rock, more than a dozen springs of sur- passing beauty united their waters to form the limpid stream. The topography of the country indicated that these springs were fed through one of nature's syphons, being merely a subterranean current crossing through the rocky labyrinths underlying the plateaus beyond. To the west, and close at hand, was the most elevated peak in the contiguous hills, from whose side approached a canon, in a winding direction, and ending at the gorge through which the river coursed. Its entrance had a weird, wild appearance to Guy, who had often passed it, and had cast curious looks up the narrow opening. One of the few prohibitory rules which he was directed to obey, when he gave his fealty to the tribe, was, on no account, to visit that canon, or to ascend the elevation beyond. This was not special as to the new recruit, but bore equally on the Indians, except the chiefs and certain older warriors, who were named as exceptions, and who con- stituted their advisers. This prohibition naturally aroused the curi- osity of our hero ; but as he attributed the regulation to some prepos- terous Indian superstition, he did not think it worth while to run the risk of its gratification. But he was destined to learn, from other lips, enough to seriously tempt him to venture on the exploration of the forbidden ground. 28 GUY RAYMOND. One afternoon, shortly after the day when he and Pedro had brought the deer into the village, Guy, accompanied by Rolla, was returning down the river bank from a hunt in the hills, his rifle swung care- lessly on his shoulders, his mind so absorbed by some train of thought that he did not see Laoni, who was sitting on a rocky projection just above the falls. She called to him. "Why, Laoni ! I did not see you." "Your eyes are. for everything but Laoni." "My thoughts were far away/' "And El Bravo would like to be with his thoughts." "You are right, Laoni. I was thinking of my little sister, about whom I have often spoken to you. She may be living, and I often hope she is. But it is almost foolish to hope. The day I was captured she, with my father and mother, must have been killed by your people." "If they were killed, the warriors know it; they will tell El Bravo." "I could not ask ; the words would die on my lips." "They will tell Laoni." . "I do not want to know it ; for if the slayers of my family were to make themselves known to me " "Would El Bravo fight?" "I might do worse." "If El Bravo's people were dead, the warriors would have scalped them. They brought no scalps to the village/' A shudder ran through Guy's frame at the thought and he grew moody and silent. "Is El Bravo sorry, that he will not speak?" "I am sorry that you saved me from the fire. It would have been better to let me burn." "Has Laoni made El Bravo sorry?" "You are not to blame, poor girl, for my captivity, or for any sorrow that I may have. You have a good heart and I believe that it strives to do right. If I had my way, you would not be long in this valley." "Where would Laoni go?" "To my countrymen. There you could learn our language and be taught the peaceful way of living. After you would learn our customs, you could return to your people and lead them from the bloody paths they now follow, into the broad road of peace and plenty. Then would you have large villages, surrounded by fields of corn and grain, with sheep and cattle and horses of your own raising; with schools to teach the children how to read and write." GUY EAYMOND. 29 * "The warriors do not like to work; the prairie is full of buffalo and deer, and the hills with turkeys. The prairie chicken and the partridge in the valleys, the squirrel and the rabbit in the woods are only waiting the coming of the huntsman. The water at our feet p-ivcs them fish when they tire of the meat from the prairie and the valley. Hero they are free as the mountain breeze; and before the coming 1 of the strangers who have pushed the Indians back from the south they were like the leaves of the trees, and the scalps of twelve moons could be counted on the fingers." "My poor Laoni cannot know the pleasures of a different life. This little valley is your world. The scalping knife and the tomahawk seem to you more useful than the hoe and the plow." "Laoni believes the words of El Bravo. Laoni has not seen the white people, and she cannot know if they are better than the Indians. The Mexicans say the white men are bad, but the Mexicans come wftli lies. They made our fathers work to build big houses for their i Spirit. They came to this valley before the village was here, when Walumpta was in his mother's arms. They made a great hole in the side of the hill in the canon at the foot of the mountain, and our fathers worked' for them. They took out loads of metal. They brought their fighting men at last and tried to take our land. The Li pans were strong and many. They told the Mexicans to go back to their country. The Mexicans laughed at the Lipans, and before the next sun went down their scalps were hanging from the belts of orr warriors." "What metal were the Moxicans taking from the hole in the canon?" asked Guy. She told him the Indian name, but he, not knowing the word in her language for any metal except the one for iron, was in doubt as to which of the precious ores had oxoitod the cupidity of the unfor- tunates. She, seeing his perplexity at not comprehending her meaning, drew from her bosom a medal, and holding it up. said: "This is the metal. This cnme out of the hole in the canon and was made by one of the Mexicans. Walumpta's father got it from ck of the man when ho took his scalp." uy look fhe medal in hi* hand and mentally pronounced it pure ilver. On one side v ived the. figure of the Virgin; on the the monogram for "Aye Marin/' He knew there must be a the mod from. If Laoni's words were true. had probably discovered it and had worked it to some (. In ilicir greed they had. doubtless, attempted to occupy the Dry RAYMOND. rnuiilrv in I'mv: had antagonized ihe Indians and got the worst o it. The slaughter of so many in the canon had invested the plac< \viili a species of dread for the superstitious Indians, and they hac made a. law forbidding anyone lo visit it. tic concluded he would asl (lie chief to suspend the rule in his case. The girl watched him closely while these thoughts were rapidl; passing through his mind. 'Ms the killing of so many Mexicans the reason that Walumpt; (iocs nol: want any one lo go to the canon?' 7 he asked. "No, mv Bravo. I listened while Walunipta and the old men wer speaking. I learned the secret of the canon. I will tell it to E Bravo, hut' lie must not lei it fall from his lips. If he tells it man; Laonis could not save him from the fire or the rifle." It cannot he a verv groat secret, for the Indians do not dig fo silver." "When the Mexicans were killed, the chiefs said no one shouh go to the canon, so that in time the silver would he forgotten, am strangers would not want the land of the Lipans. The Mexican love silver more than they do their Great Spirit. Walumpta says th marks on this piece of silver keep? away the had Spirits." Guy was doubly interested now, and resolved to visit the canon a any risk. He explained to her that the image on the medal repre sen led the Mother of the Christian Gfod, and that the monogram 01 the reverse was calling on her name. Laoni was much pleased at the explanation, and cast an unmis takablc glance of admiration at her "Bravo" for this display o erudition. As night was approaching Guy gave a whistle for Eolla, who ha< gone in pursuit of a rabbit. He came bounding from the bushes, am the two arose for a. return to the village. "Do white men wear the mother of their God on their breasts ?' asked Laoni. "Few white men have any love for her." "Why not love her?" "Some are too wicked; and a great many do not believe she wa the mother of God." "Because she was a spirit, and they could not see her?" "No, she was a woman, just like you; and God was born, a littl baby, just like the little one of Chicha's. The Christians say th Great Spirit was his father." "I thought the little baby was the Great Spirit, and now Kl Brav says the Great Spirit was the father of the baby. Could the Grea GUY EAYMOND. 31 Spirit be the father of himself? Could he live before he was born?" "Laoni does not understand. There are said to be three Great Spirits, and all three make one God. One is the father; one is the son, and the other is is "The uncle?" suggested the girl. "No, you simple one. The other is a spirit related in some way to the other two." "That is funny/ 7 said Laoni. "And did the baby God grow to be a man?" "Yes, he lived to be a man. He was a workman, and helped his father build houses." "His father! The Great Spirit came down from Heaven to build houses? Could the people see his father?" "Laoni does not understand. It was not the Great Spirit; but the husband of Mary, the mother of God, who was only a man whom she took for a husband, after the baby God was born." "Why did the Great Spirit make his son do work?" "I suppose because he thought it was right, as he went about teach- ing people to do right and be good. The people would not listen to his wise words and only a few followed him. After three years of teaching the people of his nation killed him by nailing his hands and his feet to a tree." "That is worse than Indians ! Lipans would not kill the son of their Great Spirit." "But the son of Mary had to die," explained Guy. "The Great Spirit sent him to this world to be killed, just like he was, and some- body had to do it." "Then his father was glad of it, and the men who killed his son were not bad for doing what they had to do." "No, Laoni, God was angry; and he made darkness and lightning come; the earth trembled, and all the people who had anything to do with his death are said to be in torment, burning in a fire that never dies out." "Laoni does not want a Great Spirit like that. The Great Spirit of the Indians will not burn his people for what he makes them do." "It would not be easy to make you a Christian." "Does El Bravo want Laoni to love a bad Great Spirit?" "No, Laoni. He wants you to love and believe in one who is good and just; in one who is above our weak human nature; who flitters by unchanging laws this great and mysterious creation, and who, if he takes note of actions here, wants all his people, Indians and whites, to be good to each other. If he is a person, like Christians GUY RAYMOND. believe, this would please him. He would like to have the white men love gold and silver less, and see the Indians throw away the scalping knife and learn the ways of peace. In place of the shouts of the raiders, you would hear the songs from the cornfield. You would forget, in the bustle of the harvest, the revelry of the war dance." "El Bravo speaks well. The heart of Laoni has panted for such words, and they fall like honey from his lips. If our warriors could learn your ways, happy days would come to our tribe, and this valley would be fit for the lodge' of the Great Spirit himself." CHAPTER V. Gny, after leaving Laoni, turned towards his lodge. He passed along the hovels of the braves, many of whom were squatting around their doors, some smoking and others chatting, while the squaws were here and there visibly engaged in several occupations. He heard his sobriquet pronounced more than once as he went, and several times he gave grunts of recognition in exchange for siinilar salutations! The Indians looked upon him with a kind of awe. He had escaped from the jaws of death, by little less than a miracle, and had stood all tests to prove his bravery and loyalty. For a long time his steps had been followed by spies when he would leave the valley, and his actions noted to glean the first intimation of any attempt to escape. In no instance had the Indians been able to find fault with his allegiance. Satisfied with his loyalty, he had captivated his captors by his mild dignity, his bravery and his fine presence. The discovery that a silver mine was near at hand, and that it had been the scene of a massacre years before, occupied Guy's thoughts so completely that it was long- in vain that he courted slumber. When be finally slept, dream visions of molten silver pouring from glowing furnace would be dissipated by the warwhoop of the Lipan, as the Indian brave closed in the death struggle with the avaricious Spaniard. Then he dreamed that he was exploring the mine with a torch whose light was reflected back by polished slabs of silver, leaning against the sides of the excavation. He attempted to carry one of these away and was bending under the weight of the treasure when he encountered Walumpta at the opening. He hung his head before the chiding presence of the chief, but raised his eyes on hearing the voice of Laoni bewailing the fate that had taken E! Bravo to the mine. It was a positive relief on awakening, to find himself in his bed, and that he had been dreaming. GUY RAYMOND. 33 The rays of morning wore struggling through the chinks in his cabin wall as he arose, imref re-shed, from his bed of robes. The next lodge to Guy's was Pedro's, and here lie look his meals, which never varied from some kind of meat and the ]\lo.\ican tortilla. Few of the Indians ever enjoyed the luxury of the latter article of food, but Pedro, having inherited a fondness for the national cake, had made sure that a knowledge of its preparation was one of the accomplish- ments of the squaw of his choice. When Guy made his appearance, Chidm was busy preparing the morning meal, while the old woman thev called the k ''Mu;ja v was tending (he infant half-breed and grumbling at Chieha's slothfulness. ''What makes ('Inch,! cook so many tortillas?" asked Guy, as he noticed an unusual quantity of the cakes. "Pedro goes with \Valumpta and the others/' responded ('India. "Where are they going I-"' ho asked her, with apparent interest. "Tar away on the Colorado, so Pedro says/" Guy became thoughtful for a moment. 1 Fo was about to question rhicha further, when Pedro made his appearance, armed as for a raid. To his inquiring glance Pedro made no reply, but beckoned him aside. The two remained in conversation for some time, until inter- rupted by the impatient calls of ('India, who declared that the grum- bling of the Muja would run her out of the village. Rather than be deserted Pedro repaired to the feast of venison and tortillas, followed by Guy. In discussing the merits of (''India's cookery none of the adjuncts of the board, nor the board itself, were available, and first principles assorted themselves in handling and preparing the food for mastica- tion. Guy was' very silent during the meal and, so soon as it was over, be lost no time in seeking Laoni. The girl was in her father's lodge, attending to lhe simple duties claiming her daily attention. The abode of the chief was constructed partly of rock, procured from iver bed. where it' was to be found in large supply, and in every shnpo and size. The apartment of Laoni was luxuriously furnished, in Indian stylo, and boasted a carpet of skins ingenuously joined her. In lieu of seats, bearskin rugs were disposed around the . while the virgin couch consisted of hair encased in soft and tindy dressed buffalo robe. A.S Guy was an unceremonious visitor, he entered at once, and d the mistress of the room, whose countenance brightened, as it, usuallv did, whenever El Bravo appeared. Laoni was, by no means, an ordinary girl, even when contrasted with the average of her sex 34 GUY EAYMOND. representing races advanced in civilization. She appeared to rise above her surroundings and seemed conscious of her superiority. The springs of her mind needed but the magic touch of demonstration to cause them to send it bounding to complete appreciation. This was true in all questions which appealed to heart and conscience, and not involving principles based merely on the usages or culture of civilization, or the dogmas of religion. Her features intelligent, her head shapely and well poised, her figure rather slender, made up a combination which lacked only advantages to bring her to the standard of refinement. Guy's magnetism and teaching had attracted and in- structed her until she had developed, in no inconsiderable degree, a natural superiority to her surroundings. She noted the cloud upon the brow of the youth and the earnest glances which she cast rapidly and inquiringly to his countenance were sufficiently intelligible to elicit an explanation. Guy remained mute and thoughtful. "Has El Bravo lost his voice? Has he no word for Laoni?" "Call me no more El Bravo; I am a coward, a renegade, anything but brave. I have lost the friendship of Walumpta. He has for- gotten the arm which did him service, and he goes today to raid my people, and would leave me to skulk in the village while the firebrand and scalping knife are at work on the Colorado. Laoni, are my words not true?" "El Bravo speaks the truth. Walumpta goes to the Colorado. He must listen to his braves. His voice is but little more than one in the council. He would not harm your people, but the warriors do not look upon them or upon you with the eyes of their chief and his daughter. They are jealous of the white man, and many are not pleased that El Bravo has not only won his name, but the love Laoni." "I expected the truth from your lips, and am not disappointed. Honor forbids me to stay longer in this village, which is now become the spring from which will pour out the waters of destruction on my unhappy countrymen. Duty commands me to go, if not to assist, least to warn them of danger." "Would El Bravo leave the village when his people have not been harmed? Is the raid of the few warriors enough to part him from Laoni, who will be forgotten when the life of the Indian is put aside?" "I have not used false words to Laoni. I have been as open a- she has been truthful. My duty is plain. If I am to be betrayed, you know my resolution. The warriors are yet here, and if the bl< GUY EAYMOND. 35 of my people must be spilled, let my 'scalp be the first from the victims of the coming butchery." "l)id Laoni save a life to betray it? When you were a prisoner I pitied you. For pity I braved the anger of the council and took from the lire whose smoke had already risen above the lo, You taught me to love you by your words which became to my ears as honey to my taste. For you I have found myself hating the acts of 1 be' Indian. My body and my spirit have seemed only to move and aci and think for you. If only pity saved your life, by what while man's rule do you look for the mad love of the Indian girl to betray it?" "Forgive inc. Laoni. 1 did not mean to doubt you. I wished to >how you how deiermined I am that the end of this raid shall not iii id me here." "El Bravo has said it. The words of Laoni cannot change him." "I am glad you know me so well, and I honor you for this calm- ness. Laoni, why cannot you fly with me? With my people you will be more content than in the savage life of these hills. In me you will always find a friend who will toil for you so long as life lasts/' "Is Walmnpta dead? Must my father lose his child, that El PHMVO may have a poor Indian girl to work for? Leave Laoni with li;r people. If her heart only goes with the one she loved, he will U (he freer for it. ( If Laoni is not forgotten, if she is worth El Bravo's love, he will again seek her in these hills, where first she pitied and then learned to love him." (luv was much affected by the words of the j^irl. lie turned aside with moistened eyes, and looked out upon the hills rising in tiers to the east. "Oh!" he thought. "What a bitter enp is mine. I would now prefer this girl's treachery to her love. Yet, true hearts are so rare, !! e very thought seems monstrous. I admire and am attached to her, but how can I yield her the love for which she craves. It would blight my future by chaining me (<> an Indian life, or weighting me with the odium which the conventionalities of my race would place upon such a union." His thoughts were interrupted by the girl. "Have Laoni's w r ords made El Bravo sad?" i your words alone. I, too, have a heart which must beat for those who love me; and the thought of leaving her who saved my life must make nnhappv the hour which will separate us." "Thinlc not of my words ihen, and let us laugh at parting. Laoni would have her Bravo go away happy. He will sometimes think of ill': \v;iv ,,G Gry RAYMOND. Iho village and of tlie Indian girl, who waits his coming. \Vhen the sun will sink behind the hills Laoni will sit on the rock above the falls and think of El Bravo, who used to sit beside her." "Let us talk of something else," said Guy, "or you will make me sad again. See, there go the raiders! Lnoni. the time is near v\ I must leave the village." As Guy spoke a long file of Indians was winding up the pathway leading east over the hills. It was the party which IVdro hml joined, and whose destination w r as the cause of the sudden resolution to escape from his enforced residence among the Lipnns. Wn!ump(-i had opposed a raid upon the white sol-tiers on the lower Colorado, as he had often assured Guy he would do, but he had been overruled by a nearly unanimous vote of the council and had to yield to estab- lished custom. He did not intend that the true destination of the party should be made known to his young friend, and had diVvied Laoni to deceive him. Guy's sudden appearance at her lodge and direct charge as to the true purposes of the expedition had changed her already wavering intention to mislead him. Her devotion to El Bravo was supreme and her resolution was taken not only to shield him in his plan to escape, but to assist- him in preparations. Unselfish in her love, she w.as willing to lose his presence to advance his happiness. The last raider had disappeared in the hills, when Guy, turning to the girl, informed her that he must go to prepare for his departure. "When the sun casts no shadow, come to the springs," he s "I will be there with my pom' and Holla, and go west around the mountain." "Loani will come," was her laconic reply. Guy took his way to his cabin full of the interest inspired by prospect of his trip, which ho was impressed must ho attended with more or less danger. On reaching Pedro's lodp-e. Chicha and the squaw were in a wrangle which had lasted since the niornin<_>; mvil. "Have Chicha and the Muja nothing but cross words?" lie as "Old squaw like to fuss," said Chicha. "She mad because P took all the dried meat." This was a disappointment, to Guy, who had do 1 ended on getting a supply of cured venison from Chicha to serve for two or throe days' rations. He determined, however, not to lot this dott-r him. but to start at once and trust to chance for the wherewith to appease his hunger. "El Bravo must kill a deer today," said Chicha, "or we will h nothing to eat." Gkrx tt.vYMoxn. 3 "1 will go tlvis very morning," said Guy. "Have you any tortillas to give me? 1 may be gone until the sun is low." The squaw procured several of the desired cakes and Guy, taking ; In -in from her, went to his own abode. Here he gathered together what articles were necessary for his trip., including his rifle and am- munition, and then went out on the green for his pony. A half hour he was in his saddle and, saying to Chicha that it might be night before he returned, he galloped off up the valley, followed by his faithful Tiolia. Just before reaching the falls he descended the river bank and, erossing the stream, continued towards its source. Arriving at- the canon loading to the commanding peak he turned it and was soon lost in its turns. He experienced a species of awe as the clatter of his pony's hoofs awoke the silence of the for- bidden ground. I! is rapid pace brought him to the expanding area of ihe let-minus of the whose irregular lines were bounded by the mountain side as a base, with abrupt, rocky acclivities on the north and poutb. At the latter point, tunneling a spur of the peak, was the mine, the entrance looking darkly forbidding, half concealed by the bushes and weeds, while the debris and refuse of the excava- tion readied in a long line from its vicinity to a huge pile, occupying the center of the space. Dismounting, Guy was not long in gaining the entrance, and found himself in a tunneled excavation, extending until the shadows soncealed its furthest recesses. To the right was a shaft, into which 'red. without being nble to calculate its depth. Stooping to p something to toss into the vortex, he raised a human skull, ho throw from him in disgust. The hideous relic of humanity ervod his purpose as it rolled into the shaft and went thumping its, sides to the bottom. His eyes becoming accustomed to the gloom, ad a bet lor view of ihe uneven bottom and jagged sides of the ike arai'tment. In a search for specimens of ore he was not lixe the visions of his dream, but contented himself with a few fragments of rock, containing small particles of glistening metal, apparontlv silver. While in contemplation of his samples a slight noise caused him to raise, his bond, when ho behold Laoni within a few feet of him. "Kl Bravo is not at the springs, and eyes, that are not Laoni's. saw him come into the canon/ 7 or is the sun overhead. What brings Laoni here?" oes El Bravo ask? The metal so dear to the Mexican, so loved by the white, man has won even "Kl HravoV heart, since ii lias made forget bis hurry io leave these hills and brave the spies of (ho CO I H ( -I which blUtJS IK' hai ,,S (JlY \l\\ MO NT). council. What brings Laoni here? More than the silver, tliat he loves. Come, we must leave the canon, for it is known that you arc here." ''Your story of the Spaniards that were killed at this mine mare me wish to see it. We will go to the springs and then "El Bravo will go. But we must not go to the springs no Spie> will see us, and the council will know that we have been here. (Jny, submitting to her guidance, followed until they reached the v spot where he had left his pony. Here Laoni produced a buckskin pouch filled with dried meat, and gave it to him, saying that she had le;irncd from ('hicha that he had none. Much affected by Ibis addi- iional kindness, he could not refrain from embracing bi> little less than guardian angel, while conflicting emotions filled bis breast and his eyes brimmed with tears of honest regret that he could not snatch this faithful heart' from her environment and place it on the very pinnacle of earthly content. Cuided by the girl, he followed to the southeast angle of the level, where was disclosed a narrow trail, barely visible, that wound up UK; rocky sleep among tall bushes, concealing them effectually as they made the ascent. The sure-footed Indian ponv clambered after them, and ere many minutes they gained the brow of the elevation, and looked down upon the lower hills and the stretch of valley beyond. The September temperature had not changed the vernal appearance of the view. Not- a leaf had assumed a single tinge prophetic of the autumn that was so near. To the left a silver thread, lost here and there in the mass of emerald, marked the course of the river as it wound round the valley where the smoke of the village could be seen as it rose above the quaint babitatio Here they rested while Guy took a survey of the distant pros towards which he must' bend bis course, when he once quit his prese locality and parted with the faithful girl at his side. The rugged chain of hills was lost in the smoky hori/on to the southwest and would separate him, in his flight, from the raiding Lipans who would journey along its eastern foot 1 for some distance before they turned their 'course to the Colorado. "Does El Bravo know the trail that will lake him to his people?" "Trails will not bother me. I have the mountains and the sun for guides. My course will touch the foot of the range for three or four days." "See!" said the girl, pointing to the opposite side of the can "Laoni did well to follow and lead you here." (Juy looked through an opening in the hughes and beheld the well- known form of I'onseca, an old Indian who belonged to the council of or GUY RAYMOND. 39 the tribe, and who possessed great influence in its deliberations. He had voted for Guy's execution with the minority, and had never mani- fested any real good-will for the white convert. His objeri was quite plainly indicated by his actions, which appeared to be directed to the discovery of some object in the vicinity of the mine. "You are a brave girl, Laoni. Ponseca wants to catch me in the mine. Your coming has saved my life or his." "Where is Eolla? If he sees the dog, he will know the master is o near." Guy gave a low whistle, then a little louder cull, and Eolla cam'' rushing from a direction opposite to the canon. "Good Eolla! I might have known you had not remained to betray me." To avoid observation they moved further down the slope. Guy busied himself with tightening the girth of his saddle and securing to the latter the few traps necessary for his journey. "Now, Laoni, we must part," he said, in a voice tremulous with emotion. "Your Indian tongue, or even the language of my own people, cannot give me words to tell you how much I suffer in leave you here, in this wild place, among these Indians, who are so dill'erent from you. You saved my life; you gave me your friendship and your love. You have been the bright star whose, light has shone in the black sky of my captivity. My life is yours. You have returned it to me that I may go back to my people, learn the fate of my family, and perform the tender duties of a son and brother." "Laoni is an Indian; El Bravo is a, white man. My people are taught to brave trouble and. even death, without a iear in 1he eye or a quiver on the lip. Laoni's love for El Bravo is more than her life. She can give up her life, but as long as it lasis her love must remain. El Bravo will go to his people, but the Indian girl would not keep him. Laoni will wait until the leaves will fall and come^ again, and longer; and if he comes no more, her heari will he sad. but it will always be with El Bravo." "If your heart will he sad, my own will be full of sorrow at leav- ing one who is so true and so good; who, while she lo\es me, is brave enough to sacrifice her feelings for my interests." Guy took her in his arms as he said this, and gave her one long- embrace. She clung to him with the energy of despair; then releas- ing him, she threw herself upon the ground, uttering a long, plaintive cry that could only come from a heart almost broken with grief. With a bound ho was in his saddle, aud the next moment he was making the descent of the broken hillside at a pace that would have 40 GUY RAYMOND. been dangerous for an ordinary rider. He did not look back until he had cleared the hills and turned his pony's head to the course he was to pursue. The rough descent looked smooth enough above the green foliage of the mountain growth. The grand old peak above the mine reared its commanding head in majestic superiority above its fellows. But the center of interest with our hero was a lone figure beneath its shadows, that was waving him the last sad adieux of a brave and faithful heart. Oh, strange world! Oh, stranger humanity! If, on the dialplatq. of time, the last eighteen month* could be turned back from the past with their terrible record, what a load it would lift from more than one suffering heart! Wiser then to yield to the inevitable without sigh or lamentation. The wheel of destinv inusl, revolve. Who would clutch its spokes must he maimed for Hie temerity. CHAPTER VT. "This is an excellent place to cam]) for the night, senor. We will have fine water, plenty of wood for a fire and grass for the animals." "Then we had better stop here, by all means; and, as you say. it is only eighteen miles to town, we will be able to make the distance by noon tomorrow/ 3 "Easily. Jose, undo the packs. We will make camp over there, under that fine tree; let a fire be made at once, for a cup of coffi will be most acceptable after our day's ride." The speakers were of a party of five mounted travelers, who h arrived at a picturesque spot on the bnnks of a <-lo-ir, running water- course. It was late in the afternoon, and the fatigued party w lured, by the attractions of the locality, to decide on resting for t night where the wants of man and benst could be so readilv supplied. The language in which they conversed was the pure Spanish, which fact, coupled with an ease of bearing and a polish of manner, bespoke education and gentle breeding. The first speaker was a man of middle age and ruddy complexion, with clearly cut and rather hand- some features. The expression of his face was remnrkablv benignant and cheerful. His voice was musical and, when addressing Jose, was mellowed by the kindliness of his tone. His dress and the peculiar shovel hat he wore indicated his priestly character. The other, habited in the garb of a Mexican civilian of means, was a favorable representative of the typo. Like the priest, lie was somewhat above the medium stature, while his complexion was darker and features : GUY If. \V.MO.\I). 41 less regular. The latter,, in expression., contrasted singularly with se of his companion, indicating a superciliousness in their pos- sessor that would join to the indifference of the man of the world a stimulating self-esteem calculated to chill and repel. Jose and the two others rf the party were typical Mexicans of the lower order. Jose was perhaps somewhat superior in his get-up, from mule he bestrode to the general toilet of his slight person, in- cluding the enormous spurs that decked his heels. His two peers had rich a pack mule loaded with the baggage and effects of the travelers. The entire party dismounted after the order to Jose, who came forward and took charge of the horses of the priest and his com- panion. The packs were removed by the muleteers, and soon the crackling blaze of a fire sprang from the dry brush and wood collected by Hie men, and gave an appearance of animation to the camp. Jos*', after spreading blankets on which the priest and his companion might repose their weary limbs, busied himself to put the camp in order and to prepare the coffee as directed. His actions indicated that he v,as quite an adept in his occupation, for his celerity of movement was remarkable, taking into consideration the facts, first, of his nationality, and then the spurs on his heels. While the men were busy, the two central figures were taking their ease, reclining on the outspread blankets, conversing in easy tones of the camp, of the country, of the pretty prospect on the further side of the San Geronimo, where lay an open, undulating 'lane of several miles. Through the latter wound the road they :ere pursuing, showing itself plainly at intervals, and again looking a mere thread, as it marked the side of a distant rise. "The Americans would, doubtless, like to possess this fair country. leir immigration here and naturalization is a mere pretext to gain foothold with an ultimate design to sever it from Mexico," said the rilian. "The truth of what you say is only too apparent from recent rents," replied the priest. "The next few months, I hope, will settle this colonizing business and see a policy inaugurated that will .'fFectuallv dampen the rebellious temperament of these Texans." "When once His Excellency puts foot on Texas soil he will make lort work of them. He has been wise to conceal his real intentions wards tin's people. That policy of his was adopted through my Ivice after my official visit here to estimate the population and - of the country. I discovered one fact at that time; that it >uld never do to give them warning of the advance of our troops. Tore many days there will be national troops enough in Texas to ish the enemies of Mexico/' -j-> Guy EAYMOND. The report, of a. gun interrupted the conversation; and while they were still speculating as to who it could be so near,, a deer came I. on ix lino- from the thicket and, leaping over the brook, fell struggling a few Feet below them. Anticipating that the shot might have come from Indians of a hostile tribe, the whole party at once stood to thei arms. "An Indian must have shot that deer/' said the priest. "Most probably, and the best thing for us to do is to take a tree, the oilier suggested. "Jose, von and 'the others get to cover. We will soon see the slaver of that buck." .lose and the two men did not stop to argue the matter, but sought the nearest available protection, in accordance with the good father's suggestion. Their eves were actively scanning the direction whence the shot had come, when the cracking of the brush attracted their attention, and the next moment an Indian, mounted and followed by a dog, (Mine into new, within gunshot of the fallen tree behind which Jose was lying. The intruder was evidently surprised at the appearance of a camp, for he reined up his pony and glanced quickly from side to side, as if in search of the human occupants to whom belonged the grazing animals and the bright fire that was shooting its flames up to the very branches of the tree. He caught sight of Jose's som- hrero, just as that individual raised his musket and fired deliberately fit him. Understanding now the situation, the supposed Indian calle out in ii'ood Spanish : "Do" not fire ! I am a friend !" Then reversing his gun to show his peaceable intentions, he to the campfire and dismounted. He was quickly surrounded by the cainpers. curious to inspect the hunter whose habiliments were Mexic Indian, but whose features contradicted the inferential nationaliti while his accent and correct Spanish confirmed the contradiction. The priest first questioned him : "Who are you, and which way are you traveling?" "I have been a captive, and have just effected my escape from t Indians." "What is your name, my young friend ?" "Guy Raymond, sir; whom have I the honor to address?" "I am Father Ignacio.of the parish of San Fernando, in Bex Tin's is is Senor Oonzales, and these are our servants. Jose a bad marksman or you would be the worst for his impetuous dis itely ** rode GUY I RAYMOND. 43 "i thought lie was a sure enough [ndian/' remarked Jose, apolo- getically. "!'>v ihe way, youn^ man, you killed your deer. He is lying just over ilie brook/' said Seiior (Jon/ales. That's good news," said (iuy. "\Vc had belter skin liini before if grows dark, /lose, can I liave your help?'' "Hive yourself no Irouble about if, Senor Raymond," said fbe priest. "Those two Mo/os will dress ihe deer, while Jose will serve (he coffee. It' seems like ho lias iakon longer than usual to get it ready, .lose, you used to get around faster, mnehaeho niio." "'I was about to serve it \vhen Senor Raymond e;ave us the scare." ik l call that most ill-mannered and ungenerous, to lay your short- comings <>n our guest, who, at the same time ; is our benefactor, having brought us a fleer." Jose took the priest's words half in earnest until lie caught the smile on his jovial face, which soon terminated in laughter, as he motioned (iuy to the inspection of his game. Over the coffee which Jose brought steaming, to them, Guy related to Souor Gonzales and the priest, the story of his rapture, his life, among the Indians and his escape four days before. He was de- lighted with his new company, especially with the priest, whose kind manner won his heart. The cotfee and crackers were a irreai treat, not having partaken of the be nor of any kind of bread for nearly two years. Surfeited with moat, lie scarcely tasted of the venison that Jose had cooked for their supper. Eolla, however, not so dainty as IIH master, did not' refuse a hiiiro cut from the rejected shoulders of the buck. (; time to _L'o t'o sleep, but he was conscious of the least sounds, such as the low nasal whines of Eolla as he skirmished with the liens, or the trai'ipinir of a horse, as h" broke the, twin's in the undergrowth while browsino- on its leaves. His mind had all to do with his wakefulness. The Indian village, with its huts and lodges, nestled in the hills he had so hitrly left, was plainly pictured. His own apartment, v.'iib its rawhide roof, mo>-t familiar, presented itself in al its details, within and without, now done with him forever. The chief- nbodo, with the bower of his friend, the passionate and faith- ful Laoni, with its orderly arrangement: of handsome furs and robes, d in mental review. He thought over their last long interview 44 GUY EAYMOND. in her apartment, her touching words and her devotion to Walumpta. His mind wandered to the rock above the falls, where they used to sit and where he knew she would often go again to think and wait for El Bravo. It was very late., and still the Goddess of Slumber he would fain woo to his arms, held herself aloof and pointed remorse- lessly to recollections of his late wild life. From the rock above the falls' he dreamily wandered to the canon, and up its rocky steep. Its jagged sides and impending boulders projected threateningly above him, while he approached the mine. He felt that some one followed stealthily behind, but he could not turn to look. Some geni of the mountain had fixed his view to the front and he was powerless to cast over his shoulder the glance which it seemed he would have given worlds to make. Courageously he .pushed on to the opening, on the further side of which was the mine. He gained the excavation in the mountain side and peered within. The yawning shaft was dark as ever, and when he looked yet closer, human skulls with eyeless sockets, and grinning jaws floated round its margin. Terrified, he turned to fly, when he was caught in some one's arms, and carried to the heights which overlooked the village. His captor placed him gently on the ground, and looking up he saw it was Laoni. . He tried to speak to her, but she signed him to silence, and pointed meaningly down the line of the mountains which lost itself in the far southwest. He rose to his feet and held out his arms to embrace her, but she withdrew and pointed him to his pony, grazing near. He hesitated; then turning resolutely he caught the girl, but she broke away from his grasp, leaving in his clutched hand something that emitted a soft, silver glow like that reflected by the evening star. He regarded it closely. It was the medal hanging from its snowy beadwork. He raised his head to look for Laoni. As he looked she seemed to rise from the ground, still pointing down the mountain range, and her form grew fainter and fainter and larger and larger, until it only became identified from the mountain mists by a deeper shade of out- line. Guy awoke, half oppressed by his dream, to find the glow of the morning and the camp astir. The rising sun found the travelers ready to mount to renew their journey. The priest and Senor Gonzales were the first to leave. Guy rode by the side of Jose. The two mozos brought up the rear with their pack-mules. The leading couple of the travelers rode for a time without speaking. The priest was evidently thinking of the young American who had so unexpectedly joined them the even previous, for he broke the silence with the remark : "Our young recruit appears to be a most intelligent fellow, UK' tog H, (Jrv 1 JAY. MO xi). ir> brightness and manners have greatly prepossessed me in his favor." "He is doubtless intelligent. His Spanish, though wanting in :icc, shows the remarkable tact he possesses in acquiring it almost entirely from books. Intelligence is with him a race characteristic. You know my love for Americans. Their push and impudence but augments my hatred for them.'' "But one may dislike a race and yet admire one of its individuals for a particular virtue or accomplishment/' "An aversion for everything American has become inherent in my nature. Perhaps befojv another twelve month* the name of Almonte will bo equally hated bv ail American Texans." , * ' # * # "Jose! What distance is it from here t-o San Antonio?" asked (>uy, as (hey stopped on the brow of {he first hill and awaited the approach of the two mo/.os. who had been detained by the slipping of a pack. " father Ignaeio said it was about six leagues from the San Geronimo." "Is that the name of the creek where we camped last night?" ti.-ked (hiy. , , -Si. senor." * * # * "That American looks like a true Indian, with his hack to us," said one mo/o to the other. "He is no better than one if he did stretch himself on a fresada and drink coffee with the padre," was the reply. L \Joso took iTiv moral t'O feed his Indian scrub, and this morning T could not find it." , It was a bad fortune that misdirected Jose's shot." would have saved him some trouble and me my moral. He is riding bravely by him now and tonight lie will be fetching his supper and water for his bath." "Maybe if lie stops with the padre/" "That he will certainly do, or it will not be- the fault of Father Ignacio. 1 wonder if he will pav me for my moral. If he don't I'll keep this medal of Our Lady, which he dropped in camp. It is silver and will buy many morals." "My noon the travelers hud reached the Ale/an and were on the ntering the qnaint- old town of Moxar. The sudden sound bell rang clearly in the distance, striking slowly three distinct pen'-. The sounds conveyed an admonition. The travelers reined fleir animals to a half, while the priest and the uncovered Mexicans 4-r GUY EAYMOND. made the sign of the cross and, with bowed heads, muttered the prayers of the Angelus. Twice three more peals of the bell and the chime succeeded, when the parties replaced their hats and again moved forward. The dark walls of San Fernando rose stately above the low buildings in its vicinity, while further east the ornate front of the Alamo was plainly distinct. The willows of the San Pedro fringed the view with a line of pale green, skirting the entire western limits of the place; and away beyond, on the further side of the swift- running San Antonio, were the majestic rows of the cottonwoods that lined either side of the Alameda. The grim walls of "El Campo Santo," around which wound the road they were pursuing, were finally reached, the San Pedro was forded, the military plaza was crossed, and Father Ignacio found himself at the door of his quarters opposite the south side of the venerable old church. "Welcome, Senor Raymond, to San Fernando. There, in that old church, is where I belong. Here is where I stay when I am not attending to my spiritual duties. Alight, Senors. Jose, take the animals in the yard and see that they are attended to." The good father seemed elated with his arrival home and wore his most pleasant smile as he addressed Guy and Senor Gonzales and gave his order to Jose. As he rode into the town Guy began to be impressed with the fact that his dress was most uncivilized and he could not restrain a feeling of annoyance which the reflection caused. Yet he observed that the garb of the Mexicans was of a diversity that seemed to require no particular style, and that buckskin entered more or less into the makeup of every article of the outer garments of the general populace. In fact, diversity of apparel was so common from the ingress of Spaniards, Mexicans, Indians and Americans, that no notice whatever was usually taken of an oddity in the way of dross. Guy, therefore, passed without comment to the priest's home, and in- stead of proving an object for the curiosity of the San Antonians, he, himself, was greatly amused at some queer sights that greeted his exes. A procession of donkeys loaded with wood, a bundle of which was balanced on either side, moved along the south of the plaza. Behind these came three moving piles of hay, completely enveloping the motor that propelled them along. A nearer approach, however, dis- closed the mininutive hoofs of the same patient animals, upon whose backs the grass was ingenuously packed, covering their bodies and heads and trailing to the ground. He gladly accepted Father Ignacio's hospitality. The room into which he was ushered fronted on the narrow alley that separated the GUY RAYMOND. 47 from the church and opened on the sidewalk. It was apparently the priest's sitting room, being plainly furnished, like all Mexican houses of the better class, a table and a half dozen chairs constituted the furniture. The floor was of flagstones, laid with all their natural irregularities, but quite ingenuously matched so as to leave no very wide spaces to be filled with mortar. A plain crucifix and a. thermometer hung over the opening of the fireplace. No mantel piece graced the latter. The cold, bare walls were unbroken, save by the doors, front and rear, and the high, narrow, grated window that o\erlooked the alley. Senor Gonzales paced the apartment in a restless manner, appar- ently paying little attention to the young American, or to the apart- ment and its appointments. He did, indeed, stop several times in his iurns and east glances through the grated window to the main plaza on which fronted the church, of San "Fernando. This plaza, smaller Mian the one in the rear of the edifice, was the mart of the town, where were the tiendas and vinot'erias; the resting place of the hay and fuel-loaded burros in the inlorim of display and sale of the commodities they carried. Father Tgnacio soon returned and invited his guests to follow him to the court in the rear of the apart- ment', where (hey would find water and towels with which to remove the dust of travel. This invitation, with the announcement that later they could enjoy a, bath in the river or a full-length wash in the tub, agreeable news to (Juy, who coupled the intelligence with visions of a wardrobe more consonant with his nationality, and which would e thought, most acceptable, if obtainable, when he should cast off his Indian toggery for the luxury of a. bath. The court was a square space paved with flags, surrounded, on all sides by the walls of apartments belonging to the residence. The portions on the south and east hoa-ted of a second story with piazzas overlooking the pave- ineiii below. In the center grew a tall banana tree, its broad leaves over-reaching half the circumscribed limits of the place. P>enoat h the eastern piazza was a, stone shelf, upon which were the basins, and near by a huge jug of pottery filled with water from wift-rumring Aceqiiia thai coursed along the western side of the plaza. Jose, who appeared to be the priest's right-hand man, ap- hed witli towels, and the guests proceeded to test the virtues of limestone water and soap as antidotes for the more visible evidences dusty journey. It was not a great while after their ablutions' nida, or dinner, was announced by the ubiquitous .lose, who seemed to be everywhere and engaged in all work, obedient to whose summons the party repaired to the apartment across the hall 48 GUY EAYMOND. from the sitting-room, and found a table moderately supplied witl dishes of Mexican cookery. Two huge platters, one containing "chile con carne," red with its peppery infusion, and the other filled witl frijoles, the Mexican national "bean, occupied the prominent positions w r hile a half dozen entrees, unnameable preperations, and a plate o] smoking tortillas were ranged in the center. "Take that seat, Senor," said Father Ignacio, pointing to the enc of the table. You, Senor Eaymond, occupy this one by me." "Your cook, Father, must have anticipated you arrival, since h( lias gotten this dinner so quickly/ 7 said Senor Gonzates. "Ah ! There is where you are mistaken. My cook did not expeci n ic at all this week. These dishes are from Senora Candelario's, whc always has something good ready cooked for her customers. Senoi linymond, let me help you to some of this chile con carne, and frijoles.' Guy passed his plate, which was ainuly supplied with the savory compound, and the trio were soon discussing the excellence of th( Candelario's dishes. The entrees were duly tested, but found little favor with the American guest, who, nevertheless, swallowed the quote each time the test was made, being determined to satisfy his curiosity, on the subject of the Mexican menu. The chile con carne was a little hot, and indeed, several other dishes he had tasted contained more 01 less strong infusions of the favorite pepper. This caused a longing foi water to cool the burning effect on his gums and throat, and a* there was none in sight he signified to his host that a drink wouh" be most acceptable. The services of Jose were again brought into requisition and the water produced, supplemented by wine and glasses Guy eagerly swallowed a couple of glasses of water and felt inucl" relieved. With the subsidence of the burning he felt renewed courage to taste the contents of a very small saucer, which was the only disl of whose merits he had not become fully cognizant. He therefore reached for it and took a small quantity on his plate. The substance was minced to a fineness that defied any attempts at ocular analysis but, its inviting green color evidently relegated it to tho catogorv ol relishes. Being Mexican it would have been preposterous to doubl the presence of pepper; color green, it must therefore be givon pepper and, thought Guy, "Anybody can eat it green, as the fiery property culminates at maturity and then it is essentially red." Emboldened by this assumption, he carried the entire quantity on his plate to his mouth, feeling, while it was in transit, n relie! that this was the last gout that the demands of an acquaintance witl: tho menu Mexican would require of him for the present. The effect was terrible. Color green? If he was not color-blind. GUY KAY.MOND. -1!) then the taste was rod. For it seemed to liini as lie gulped down the rc/i^/i that, nil the concentrated fires of an inferno had become incor- porated in that saucer of verdant deception. Water streamed from lii's eves. Strangulation, hiccough, prevented his frantic attempt- to drink for a rime. He made his exit from the room and to Jose out into the court. Senor Gonzales was nonplussed as to what had hap- pened to tin- young man, but the priest was wiser as lie had witnessed act which had caused the trouble, and notwithstanding his sym- palhv for the Mifi'erer lie could not refrain from laughing heartily. "What makes yon laugh? 1 think it disgusting that a person should so gorge himself as to choke at table," said Senor Gonzales. "Why, the poor fellow lias not eaten so much/' said the priest. "He simply tried to eat these minced chili ipines like he would any simple vegetable and that is what even ^Mexican throats could not stand. "I'll go and fetch him back; a glass of wine will relieve him."' Guy, in a very little while, had regained his breath and supp' the hiccoughs, lie laved his face in the basin, and was about to mipany Father Ignacio back to the dining table, when he ] or- ! a letter under the shelf on the pavement. Supposing it to be one of several that he saw Senor Gonzales drop before dinner, and which he inferred had been overlooked., he picked it up. Tt was ad- dressed: "Senor Fdourdo Grition, San Antonio de Bexar." On entering the room he found the senor sipping his wine and looking abstractedly across the table. That worthy did not appear to notice the entrance of the others, until Guy addressed him. "Were you not, Senor, the bearer of this letter? I found it just . near where you dropped the papers from your pocket." Senor Gonzales reached for the letter and. on noting the super- scription, .-i-owled darkly, casting a look at Guy in which were blended inquiry and suspicion. CIIAITKK VII. of September, 1836, found Texas ablaze with excite- ment over the relentless policy which the Mexican general govcrn- , impersonated in Santa Anna, manifested towards the American Texa is who had settled as colonists under guarantees, by the Federal rights and immunities incident to citizenship. San at. that time the headquarters of the military depart- >lonel rgartacliea in command. The spirit of resistance action.-, and resentment for the unreasonable withholding of privileges of free government, which naturally accrue, and 'id keep, pace with the pmgre.-s and population of a free people. 50 GUY RAYMOND. had become general throughout the State. The notes of preparation for the coming struggle filled the political atmosphere. The appoint- ment of committees of safety, the secret accumulation of arms, the dispatch of messages to friends across the Sabine for assistance in any shape, constituted initial steps of the Texans. The Mexican com- mandant and his superiors were not slow to realize the brewing of a storm and, while they used all the arts of pacification to allay the suspicions of the turbulent colonists, the Mexican army was en route, in three divisions, with Texas the destination and coercion the object. Through spies they had singled out and demanded the surrender of the leaders of the war party, that they might be subject to the justice of a court-martial, and the tender mercies of a Mexican military official. Already Captain Castonado with a troop of cavalry had attempted to remove a cannon from Bastrop to Bexar, but had been repulsed by the vigilant Texans, and the gun retained. Other collisions between the soldiery and the people had occurred at Goldad and on the coast, all of which tended to draw the lines between the military authority, which in fact had absorbed the civil, and the American colonists. San Antonio was therefore almost entirely deserted by the latter, the remaining few being kept under the most rigid surveillance. When Guy, therefore, later in the afternoon informed Father Ignacio of his intention to go out in the town for the purpose of disposing of his horse, saddle and bridle, to enable him to purchase the clothing he needed, he was advised by the friendly priest to allow Jose to perform that office for him. "Perhaps he will prove a better trader than I am." "It is not that supposition which prompted my surest ion, al- though Jose, from his wide acquaintance, doubtless would be more successful in making a good bargain. But, my son, the times are growing troublesome. Your people are at outs with the government, find are looked upon with suspicion by the authorities. So you sec, amigo mio, I do 'not want you to run any risk by going out by your- self; a stranger you know, just come in town, will have to produce vouchers. Remain indoors today and I will see that, after, you can go where you please; of course, on your parole." "What! Have I escaped from the Indians, only to find myself a prisoner? But tell me, good father, what you have heard from my people. Are they in arms against the government?" "I cannot speak plainly. All I can HI you is, ihere is trouble coming, and my interest in you makes me nnxinus to have you do untiling Hint could compromise your safety.*-'' GUY RAYMOND. 51 As you will then. Let Jose make the trade." On the eastern side of Main pla/a, about midway of the row of shops and apartments, was an establishment common to every Mexican town of even limited size, and deemed by the population as essential as (lie church, the tienda, or even the cock pit. The letters over the door spelled the words "Monte Pio," the Spanish for pawnbroker. The average Mexican would have a much greater idea of Heaven if ho believed it contained a peculiarity of this nature. To the Monte I Mo he hies for his stake to test his fortune at the game of monte. If ihci gnawings of hunger arc about to goad him to desperation, the Montr IMo is often his saviour, by making an advance, however small, on almost any article of jewelry, dress or property, be it the very shoes from his feet or the snaked sombrero which surmounts his cranium. The Mexican Monte Pio is different from his foreign brolher. He will accept the most apparently valueless things in the world, which may, by any conceivable chance, be made applicable, not only to personal necessities, but to the most inconceivable eccentrici- ties of taste. He is therefore a benefactor; and to the Aztec race, a positive necessity. Imagine, for a moment, a town in the sister republic, boasting a few thousands or a few hundreds of people, and no Monte Pio. Preposterous ! It may have no church, nor a regular Picradilla stand, nor even a cock pit. But the Monte Pio, with his dark apocento, his jumble of stock, his odds and ends, his indiscrimi- nate display of toggery, arms, jewelry, spurs, bedding, blankets, som- breros and what not, with his suave manners and patronizing style, is an indispensable requisite. Jose, on being informed of the duty which would be required of him, readily signified his willingness to render the service to the young American. As major domo of the popular priest of San Fer- nando, lie was known to every man, woman and child in Bexar, there- by possessing an influence among the ordinary people that was often potent, where failure would have attended efforts from more preten- tious sources. He held intimate connection with the father, who minislered to their spiritual necessities, who entered into all their sports, i-iipouraged the parades on holidays, their furious riding on "KI dia de San Juan," the ante-Christmas lanterns, the ludicro- dramatic performance of the pastores, and various and sundry cele- brations of fiestas without number. Hence his weight in the com- munity. He was envied by the class from whose ranks he was drafted, but the feeling was dwarfed by an awe for the importance of his o(li<-<>. AV ith the Alonto Pio he was solid, and to be solid in ihis direction was the ultimathule of the ordinary Mexican. There 52 GUY RAYMOND. was, however, a purpose in this solidity, as there arc purposes in all strong manifestations without the pale of the affections. The purpose, of course,, was with the Monte Pio. His business, in spite of the role we granted it as a benefaction, possessed features not in harmony wilh ethics prescribed by holy church. Therefor* 1 , to avoid the anath- emas of that institution for possible and probably lapses, for deviations from the perpendicular of rectitude, for sundry grinding exactions, amounting to positive oppression, Jose was proj itiated ,1! all times and on all occasions. Jose was near the padre. He could sliflc complaint. He could smooth over report* and restrain per- sistence by iimely compromise. Jose, therefore, when he found that he had a bargain to make, immediately thought of the Monte Pio, his refuge in all difficulties pecuniary. On the afternoon in question, a knot of cindadanos were grouped in front of the tienda del Monte Pio. The characteristic grave ex- pressions of the silent, apathetic race of which they were individuals, were worn by the faces of the party, as they conversed almost in monosyllables, and ejected from lips or nostrils the curling, white smoke of their ciragetas. The plaza and streets were nearly do- HM'ted by the populace, most of whom were still indoors, indulging in the conventional siesta or not yet fully aroused from its lethargic influence. "I hear that Father Tgnacio returned this morning." said one the group, to his nearest .companion, as he completed the artis rolling of a fresh cigareta and motioned for a light. "I sa.w him crossing the Military plaza coming in. He was accompanied by another gentlemanly-looking man, and a curiou dressed fellow, a decidedly Indian dress and a fair skin. I won who it could have been?" "'Where were you, Manuel?" queried another. "I saw the pa myself. They passed very close to where I was, and. if T mista not. F know the gentlemanly fellow. If it was not General Almonte 1 it was his ghost in citizen's dress." "Why should he or his ghost want to dress like a citizen? Th officers are never guilty of being out of uniform. They are as v of gold lace as a peacock is of his tail." "Sometimes it is policy to travel without being known. P>osid Ml Ptesedente may have sent him on some secret service. 1 saw the same man, that was with Father Tgnacio, walking with Oaptai Caslonado, going to headquarters. I am almost certain it is Almon "I wonder if Castonado informed him how the Americans bin s (it Y 1. \YMON I). .*).'> him at 'Bash-op. Ho ought io have his gold lace pulled ofV. after h an expedition/' "You never tire of scoffing at our officers and soldiers. You Id go and join these. Texan- Americans. Do von know, Manuel, you are >d of having sympathy for the other side?" "Let them suspect. I have done nothing except to condemn mis- management and cowardice. 1 have received and expect from the powers that he. They d .Juan Seguin will) sus- picions until he was driven to 1 ! Let them look to H thai "Manuel Pni/ is not fore \amp1e." "Tin's is hut the braggadocio of a would-he traitor. Would you in an attempt to destroy our government?" "'('all it what you please. Sancho, hul the Mexican who would :er the unscrupulous rule of military satrap? to the blessni a popular government si' tor that he i fit to have a country to betray/ 3 ^ I lave you no race?" "Pride of race can ii"ver exist in a race of peons. And this i^ .ling to. under His ] i El Prosedento.' 1 ife will tell ns if it was Almonte." The major doino here rode up mounted on Guv's pony, with the In-idle and saddle that the latter had captured in the fight with the .luted the bystanders, all of whom he doubtless knew h\ name. They indo: urnod his salutation of "Buenas t; 1 ho having propounded i ion to elicit the desired infor- 'entity of S dismounting, led the latter Dame, looked wise, and placed his linger his lips, as i!' to enjoin ,-i discontinuance of such inrpiii- Sancho was satisfied with the pantomime, and turning to Unix, id: ''You see 1 was right/' The 'Monte Pio was just rising from a siesta on the floor of his , having converted a pile of hhnikeis ; the purpose of taking his daily nap. TTc gneted his visitor pleasantly, made particular inquiry after the health of the padre, luse of their delayed return from the Pio Grande, ,-nid :!_. MKinv oth ( 'd hy their intimate relations B' on have a new horse and on! (he Moiile Pio. mine. It is about that same horse and ouHii ioruoon, amigo uiio," said Jose, pu1 d liu-htlv on the other's shoulder and looking (piixxinglv in 54: GUY EAYMOND. It is a pony of good appearance, and the saddle lias been a line one." -1 am glad to hear you say that," said Jose, "for I have come to trade you the horse and outfit." "Well, in that case, I will have to look closer. It occurs to me the pony is pretty well alon^- in years, but I must admit the silver mounting of the saddle." "Wha't will you give for all?" "Knr ihe pony, saddle and bridle; let me see diez, quinze, diez, y ''Come, compadre, what are you talking about. I don't want to pawn them ; I want to sell them." "You don't think I would pay that much on them in pawn. It's what they are worth, that I was calculating." "Wo can't trade then. I know Father Tgnacio will be disap- pointed when I tell him the miserable price you offered." "Is it for the padre you are making the trade?" "For Father Ignacio himself." "De veras?" "De veras." "Bueno. What say you to twenty pesos?" "You are getting stingy, as you grow richer. You had better keep on the good side of the padre." "Better say on your good side, for Father Ignacio is not the one to bo bribed by the price of a horse. If I have escaped censure for certain piecadillos. it is because you stood between me and him for price. Come, JOM>. name your amount." Jose, after a moment's deliberation, took the Monte Pio aside an engaged him in an inaudible conversation. After some gesticulation and seeming di (Terence, they arrived at some understanding. The pony was stripped of Iris saddle and bridle, which were brought into the shop and deposited, while the horse was led away around the corner of the street next to the river. The major domo, having con- cluded the trade -to his satisfaction, left the shop of the Monte Pio and, after bandying a few words with the men assembled around the door, departed in the direction of the priest's house. GUY EAYMOND. 55 CHAPTER VIII. About midway between tlic plaza and the bridge, on the north side of M'a in street, stood a house retired a little from the thoroughfare, and almost touching the hank of the stream in its rear. In its front marched, with measured stride, a barefoot soldier with a tattered uniform. His long musket rested upon his shoulders, its bright bayonet flashing in the sunlight, as he turned at the end of his beat. A veranda extended the full length of the building facing the river and separated from it by a parterre of shrubbery and fig trees. The afternoon sun was casting shadows from walls and foliage over the grounds, and upon the blue and deep current that passed in graceful eddies under the steep embankment. In a rude and capacious cage of native workmanship, swinging from a limb of a tree almost touch- ing the house, a mocking-bird was caroling his wildest notes, to which one of his untamed species made answer from a willow on the further bank, under which a lot of Mo.xican women, washing clothes and. chattering ever and anon, formed a picturesque group. The veranda was occupied by three men, who were seated in ap- parent consultation around a table upon which were papers and writ- ing material. One, a thin-visaged, dark-complexioned man, dressed in the uniform of a Colonel of the Mexican Army, occupied the central position. He sat stiff' and upright in his chair, while his features wore a worried expression that gathered the deep wrinkles to his forehead. On his left, in the uniform of a captain, was a young ollirer of quite a careless mein, indicated by his expression and the easy, lounging altitude. The third would have been easily nvngni/j'd by the reader as the Senor Gonzales, . introduced in a former chapter, while the traveling companion of Father Tgnacio. !< still wore the garb of a civilian, and had lost none of that im- mobility of countenance which seemed to repel all approaches of familiarity. The la. tier was the first to speak. "This letter from Senor Gritton does not place you in a very favorable lij^ht, as commander of a responsible expedition, Captain Castonado." ''The opinion of a mere citizen amounts to little in the case since as ignorant of the instructions I had to guide me. The Colonel, ere, gave me my orders, which were to avoid all hostile collisions with the people, and if I could not succeed in getting possession of iMiion by a show of force, to retire and await further orders." v .as is i here, 1 1. \YMOND. "The Captain is correct," said the Colonel. "It lias ahva my opinion that a pacific and liberal policy towards these colonists would accomplish what harsh measures could never effect. They have e> Migrated from a country where every concession is made to indi- vidual liberty that is consistent with the ends of mild and popular government. This should bo patent to you, General Almonte, who received your education in the United States." "AViih your policy in force these Americans would not only root out evorv veslige of Mexican custom- and interest, but would soon prow strong enough to threaten the States on the other side of the Rio Grande. "Force, must bo used, and that soon, to check their audacity. General Cos will soon be here, and he will be followed by (\vo divisions, the last and larger under the command of Santa Anna himself. The President is determined on subjugation and, if need be, annihilation, deeming it necessary for the security of this territory to the Republic. Your policy. Colonel Ugartachea, is a wrong one in dealing with the kind of stuff the colonists are made of." "If my theory is wrong in practice, it is right from a liberal or republican standpoint." "How many names of ringleaders does Gritton's list contain?" asked Almonte. "It is here among these papers. You can examine it yourself." AYi'ilc Almonte for Senor Gonzales was no other than the noted staff officer of the Mexican dictator was looking over the lists handed him, a soldier appeared and delivered a document to the command- ing officer. Directing the messenger to retire and await orders, the 0] eued the papers which, having read, ho passed to Almonte. "That means war, and no mistake," said the latter. "I know this Henry Smith." "The President should be advised of this move without delay. and a courier should bo dispatched at ouco, with your endorsement. "No need of that, Colonel," said Almonte. "I am to return to Mexico myself within twenty-four hours, and will see Santa Anna ns soon as a courier could reach him." "Your stay is brief." "Necessarily so. The object of my mission here has been more lliaii realized by what I have learned. Here is a communication For Edward Gritton. A reliable courier disguised in the doilies of an ordinary dii/en must place it in his hands. T will rely on your judgment in the execution of the matter." I'gartachea took (lie letter, promising to have ii safely in the hands of the parly whose address it bore. Grv 1J Ay MO NT>. 57 \Ve will leave the officers to discuss (ho situation, which appeared to be growing critical for Mexican supremacy in Texas. The courier had brought the news of the action of the council in its issue of a circular, designed to conciliate the Texas tribes of Indians, of the return of Stephen F. Austin from Mexico, and the warlike resolutions at Brazoria. When Jose returned home he found Guy just emerging from the luxury of a hath, and the clothing which the former brought cain" in good time for him to try on. The major dorno had indeed b lavish in his selection, not only in quality and style, but- in propor- iioiis. The first suit he got hold of was sufnYiently ample for an individual of exaggerated corporosity, and the second and third gained on the first in length, io compensate for shrinkage in amplitude. He began, to despair of a fit as .lost* re-entered. The hitter gave his -sistance and by their joint elTorts, a suit cap-a-pie, was found thai, dint of a little tightening here and a little altering there, could made to serve the purpose of our hero until something better could accomplished in the i mi 11 or of attire. "You don't look like a Li pan any more, senor. Your hat is just: thing and sets off your handsome face." "Jose, you are a flatterer." "Do veras ; you are handsome in your new clothes." "It is the clothes that makes the man," said Guy. "My father ten said that dress had much to do with our destiny." "Vour father was a fine looking man?" "He was the type of perfect manhood," snid Guy, with a sigh, as 3mory recalled the last time he had seen the subject of their con- ttion. ''Was he smart?" continued Jose. "Aye, he was a philosopher. A man whose life was a period of idy." "Like el padre, Ignacio. lie always lias his nose in. a hook, when is not attending to his church duties." "There, Jose, I think I have put the finishing touch to my dress. ie clothes are so decidedly Mexican that I could be taken for one of vour countrymen. I wonder if Senor Gonzalcs would know me if he met me on the street." "Certainly. That face of yours, and those locks of wavy golden hair that any senorita might envy, would tell on yon." "Well, as'i have no cause to disguise myself, there is little desire to conceal my identity. I am. therefore, Senor Jose, transformed, through the medium of clothes, from El l>ravo, the Lipan, to Guy 58 GUY RAYMOND. R;mnond, the American, Mexicanizcd by appearances. I have neg- lected to thank you for thus advancing me several degrees nearer to civilization, or to ask you about the success you met with in trading off my pony and saddle." "These clothes you have on are a part of the trade. In addition I got twenty-five dollars, which will be at your service in the morning." "You are a pretty good trader, Jose. Count on five dollars of that amount as your own in payment for your trouble." "Senor Raymond is too good. I did not charge anything." "But you will accept." "If you will not tell Father Ignacio that you paid mo." "Never fear, we will keep our own soerois. While I think of it, Jose, I have lost something which 1 highly prize. .It is a medal of the Virgin, attached to a string of fine beads, and belonged to an Indian girl who saved my life. When I left the Lipan village, this girl gave me that buckskin pouch, full of dried venison and in it I found tli is medal I spoke of. She evidently intended it for me, and that I should discover it after our parting." "The girl loved you, then." "She loved me too well, Jose; better than I deserved." "Most girls would love Senor Raymond." "Let us talk about the medal. You have not seen it?" "No, Senor. When did you see it last?" "Not since the night before I reached your camp." "You may have lost it then before you joined us." "Perhaps." Guy and the major domo, continuing their conversation, moved to the sidewalk and took seats looking out on the plaza, over which the shades of evening were falling. The population had moved from indoors, and there were a goodly lot of passers and groups scattered here and there. Occasionally one or more female figures, almost enveloped in capacious rebosas, would pass out of the church and take their way in different directions, conversing in their musi- cal language. Jose explained to his companion many points about the actions and customs of his people, that proved interesting the listener. In reply to the question if church was going 01 at that hour in San Fernando, he explained that the women he ha( seen issuing from its portals had been confessing, ; in-r 62 GUY RAYMOND. The nearest fire, as Ilie camp would be approached from the south, was surrounded by a party whose hilarity and occupations did not suggest any great degree of gravity in the expedition that had called them afield, or that apprehensions of a serious movement was in contem- 1 lation calculated to termination in disaster or dearly earned success. Over the coal?, all aglow beside a fallen tree, hung two quarters and a saddle of venison, which two men were tending, while a third, wah-liing their operations, sat upon the im ignited portion of the trunk. Near by, on the spread surface of a highly colored Mexican blanket, four others were engaged at cards. From these came fre- quent ejaculations, with occasional biu'sts of laughter. "Don't you see that meat is burning on this side? Two cooks for that little quantity of meat ouiiht to keep it from charring like that." "Why didn't you say it was burning sooner? You have been sitting there on that log looking straight at it, and kept your mouth shut," said one of the men who was tending the meat. "It is something new r to charge Jones with keeping his mouth shut." said the other cook. "He /hasn't talked much since the elephant story," replied his comrade. "What elephant story?" "That is a fact, Perry, you were on the scout the day Jones gave us the elephant story." "The last one I heard him tell was that one about fleas. He took a big thing to lie about this time," said he who was addressed as Perry. "Oh ! Jones believes in jumping from one extreme to the other, tends to diversify his romancing." "What in thunder could he have to say about elephants?" "Why, he related that while he was in the service of the E India Company, he was walking out one day in the jungles at the foot of the Hymalayas, when ho came to a bridge crossing a river, and while he was seated there, eight hundred elephants ran across it at full speed." "What a whopper!" "Couldn't a man see elephants crossing a bridge?" asked Jones. "I don't see anything very strange in that. I have heard you w^orse yarns than that, Perry." "Must have been a powerful bridge," said Perry. "Why, y numskull! Don't you know that eight hundred soldiers crossing a bridge without breaking step would shake it up. OJ' course you stood there and counted the elephants. Why didn't you tell some- >ry. : teli vori GUY RAYMOND. 03 more probable? Fir instance, that you saw that cow of yours, which used to give two gallons of milk out of each teat, jump over the moon." "Oh, give him a rest. The boys rode him on a rail for telling that elephant story." "I don't ask you to plead for me, Mr. Tip Hamilton, and imiy he you will he sorry yet for ihe part- you took in that same mil-riding." "Oh, Oli! lie is threatening me, hoys. You simpleton, "i \\-\\* Ducio who led the lynchers. 1 did the laughing; it excited my risi- bility." "And Mr. Ducio Halfen will have to settle for it," conl itmed Jones, doggedly. "The Jones is growing dangerous," said Hamilton. "He will constitute a ] halanx when we join issue with the Mexican-. Here comes Ducio and the noble Trigg. As I live! They lead a scion of II ic Aztecs." "They've got a Greaser," exclaimed several voices, as the party rode info camp, the Mexican between them. A crowd soon gathered about, ibe prisoner, who sat stolidly returning the glances of his cap- tors while they indulged in a multitude of expressions and badinage, in regard to himself and the cause he was presumed to represent. "(Jcnls! Perhaps he is envoy extraordinary and minister pleni-_ potentiary from the veritable Sauty himself, oll'ering us the olive branch, conditioned by our return to our homes," said Tip Hamilton. "Tf he is a spy, the only branch we will have any use for is the ( 10 right over bis head," said another. Mr. Trigg here interposed and directed the prisoner, who had dismounted, to follow him. The ca.j lure of a plain Mexican was no very important affair, especially as in the present instance, the object of such sudden interest \\as apparently a ranchero of the type and dress of an ordinary herder. His appearance would have caused but little notice, bad not a rumor gone the rounds, traceable to Ducio Halfen as authority, that important documents had been found on the person of the fellow. The men, grouped about, discussed ibe capture, a few following Mr. Tri!' Texan soldier the synonym of valor and the realization of reckless daring. 'The reader will have recognized one of the letters whose contents divided the detention of the Mexican, as the same which Guy I'avmond found at the priest's house and returned to Senor Gonzales, who had dropped it. The presence of the silver medal, taken from the prisoner, will perhaps be made clear in the progress of our story. Austin /was waiting in his present position for reinforcement- and supplies before making further movements inward the investment of San Anionio, whew General Cos had arrived and was preparing for igorous defense. After Mr. Trigg had been relieved of the custody of Hie Mexican, 68 GUY RAYMOND. he repaired to his mess with the intention to rest his limbs,, made weary by a long day's scout. Trigg was a hale and hearty Irishman, not more than fifty, and consequently in the prime of a sound man- hood. He had seen service, however. What particular adventures he had met with were not known to many, and perhaps to none of his present comrades. He was rather reticent when the boys were spinning yarns, although he had related some few tales of the sea, which he seemed to have followed. In these stories, however, he would not place himself as the hero, nor even as a witness, evading all questions of his listeners as to his connection with the incidents related. His mess had great respect for him, and always spoke of him as Mr. Trigg. The first three characters introduced to the reader as engaged in conversation over the roasting venison belonged to his mess, as did also Ducio Halfen. The latter was no favorite with him, although he expressed his feelings no further than to repel any familiarity on his part. For Jones he entertained a good-humored contempt, while he was amused at Hamilton and liked Perry. The latter was awake when Mr. Trigg sought his blanket, and tried to draw his friend out on the subject of the capture; but his curiosity was good-naturedly resisted, with an injunction to go to sleep and he would tell him the whole story on the morrow. "Don't be so curious, my boy; it's tired I am now, and talkh will disturb our neighbors/' "I just wanted to know something about the silver 'medal y( found on him," pleaded Perry. "Who was telling you?" "Tip Hamilton saw you show it to General Austin." "Tip is the devil's own; he is always knowing too much." "He only said that he saw it." "Well, it's only a medal of the Blessed Virgin hung to a string beads." "Which virgin is that, Mr. Trigg?" "You young heathen! Not to know who the Blessed Virgin is. Sure, she's the holy mother of the Saviour, and it's her picture thai on the medal." "What's the good of it, Mr. Trigg?" "It's a keepsake, and if it is blessed by n priest, it is fine to w< around your neck to keep harm away from a man." "I never heard of that before," said Perry, wonderingly. "Because it's a heathen you are." At this point of the conversation, the tall, dark figure of a in front of 11m (lying embers close at hand, and the voice GUY HA YAK) \D. c.!) of Captain Fannin called to fhe senior of the two, in an underiono: "Is that you, Captain?" "Mr. Trigg," responded the Captain, "I want young Perry to go on courier duty at once. Where is he?" "Eight here, sir," replied Perry, rising as he spoke. "Where am I to be sent?" ' "You will get your instructions at headquarters. Come imme- diately." "All right, Captain," said Perry, "just as soon as I get my shoes on." "I wonder what they want me for?" he asked of Mr. Trigg, when the Captain had disappeared. "You will know soon enough, my boy." When Perry was about to leave the other said to him : "Perry, come back here before you leave camp. If it is going where I think you are, I want to send a message by you." Perry, stating that the nature of the duty awaiting him necessi- tated his return to get his saddle, blanket and bridle, left to got his. orders. When he entered the tent, the general and his subordinate were sitting by a rough box, on which lay a package which the former scaling with a piece of wax, ignited from a dim tallow candle whose feeble light threw flitting shadows on the canvas. When he had completed the operation he turned to the youth and asked: "Are you well acquainted with the country between here and San Filipe?" " . "Every mile of it, sir." "Got a pretty good horse?" "He is a pony, but fat and well winded." "When can you be in San Filipe?" "It is one hundred and eighty miles." "About well?" "Uv changing horses once, in three days." "Can you get a change?" "I can at Season's, on Peach Creek." "Take this package and deliver it to (iovornor Smith as soon as yon can. Be discreet; fell nobody your business or destination." "Can't I tell Mr. Trigg to what place I am going?" "Tell no one/ "But "Xo huts, sir! Captain, we have got hold of the wrong man." "N r o! general/' rejoined Perrv, swelling up nf Mio refleciion. "If orders not to toll, torture wniTf wring it from mo." --.Mil thai sounds more like ii." Oneral Austin said. "Now, sir. 70 GUY RAYMOXD. show what metal you are made of. Stay the countersign is 'VelascoV Perry was rather mortified that he could not reveal to Mr. Trigg his destination, as he understood that his friend wanted to send a message by him, provided he was going to the right place. He was rather moody, therefore, when he returned, and Mr. Trigg asked him if he was to go to San Felipe. "You must not be angry with me, Mr. Trigg. The general said I could not even tell you." "He is particular! Well, my boy, obey orders if it costs you friends, and true friends won't be out with you long, when it is found that you have done your duty." "If you have anything to say to me I can listen to you, and if by any chance it comes in my power to serve you while I am gone, I can do so, no matter where I have been ordered to." "Go fetch your horse, my boy, if it's to he quick you are, and I'll study the matter over while you're gone." While Perry was gone for his pony, Mr. Trigg rose and chunked the fire, adding a few twigs to make it bla/e. Then unrolling an extra blanket, which had been serving him for a pillow, be took from the inside fold a small wallet fastened with strap and buckle. This lie undid and drew forth some papers, which he inspected by the dim firelight. Selecting one and laving it aside, be replaced the others, and from another pocket took something, and holding it up for moment's scrutiny, put it with the paper. "I'll send it to the child and the good mother whose image bears will take her under her protection while I am away." He spoke the words in an undertone, as the medal with its string of snowy heads was deposited with the letter, for such was tl paper be had taken from the wallet. By a better light the h< handwriting of the address would have disclosed the name of "Stella Raymond." Mr. Trigg, having replaced his roll of blanket, seated hiinsel and leaned his bead forward on his hands above the glowing coals, which seemed to invite him to rumination. The consuming element at his feet, so typical of life in its mutations, set him to musing. Perhaps he had. in youthful antici- pation, felt the little flame of hope that began to grow in si/e and hrigbtness as the kindling of ambition had been supplied to feed it still higher. How it had increased to a vivid light, and then become suddenly checked by the green, incombustible fuel of mistaken judg- ment or misplaced confidence, and had shrunk away beneath the fumes of disap) ointment, or the blinding smoke of despair. Often by unremitting efforts the bla/e is re-established at the expense of ITS. .; Grv humid eyes and bitter experience^ resulting in the cheery glow, endur- ing for a time, perhaps for a long period, then failing slowly, imper- ceptibly, until the ruddy coal? have paled, and we think and wonder. ;,nd while yet we wonder the dying embers become cold, dead ashes. Whatever may have been his reflections, Mr. Trigg gave vent to an occasional sigh, as his gaze was riveted to the fire, and he re- peal edly in u tiered to himself. He finally arose and peering through the darkness, rendered more impenetrable from his long gaze at the bright coal?, he said, half audibly: "What can the youngster be after doing staying this long?" Perry had been absent nearly an hour, and his friend had become really anxious to know the cause of his delay, when the sounds of horse's hoofs were followed by Hie appearance of the subject, of his though is, mounted bare-back. "I thought yon would stay the night out." "I began to think that way myself/' said Perry. "My pony pulled his stake, and F had to hunt for him among all the other horses. In this darkness it was no easy matter, and he was a mile, nearly, from where I left him." "(let ready, my boy, and be oil'. There is a bit of broad and some meat in the can. left over, which will keep you from hunger unlil you can do better." Perry, naturally active, stood ready for departure in a very few minutes. He was examining the priming of his rifle, when the attention of both was attracted by the sound of footfalls, as if some one was cant iouslv moving towards them. After a hail from the older. in a low tone of voice, the same sounds wore heard, as if some one retreating, and Porrv was quite certain he distinguished the lo 'in of a pel-son moving oil' in the direction whence he had jusi come. "Mr. Trigg, I believe (hat was Ducio Halfen." "Not from ihe looks of him. in this darkness/' "No, sir, but, when I passed the lines, going for my pony, there was no sentinel on post., at which I thought very strange. When I came back I Miein challenged me and I gave him the countersign. Ho pretended that I did not have the right one. and kept me several minutes, and while detaining me, he did his best to find out what I was up to. Of course, I could not toll him, and I believe he followed me here t'o find out what I refused to toll." -Was it him, that was off post?" "Yes, for the relief wont 'round just before I loft here^ and the round has not been made jet.' 3 "I'll -peak privately to the Captain and have the fellow watched. It'- lilt le use I have for him." Grv RAYMOND. "Now. my boy." continued Mr. Trigg. "I don't ask where it is vouVe going, and if I knew it, it would be safe in my breast. bu r I more than suspect what you're going for, and want you to take thi< note and this medal, and if San Felipe is the place, you can deliver them to my little girl. It is only tonight that I thought about send- ing it, and I said nothing about it in the note. Tell her to wear it around her neck for the sake of her old friend, and the Blessed Mother will be good to her, even if she don't belong to the Holy Church, which is all the worse for her. I want her to send me an answer by you. Perry, and, my boy, I want you to see her all you can. and tell me all about her when you're back; do you mind?" "Certainly. Mr. Trigg that is. if I go to San Filipe." "Before you come back we will be after moving out of this to the Salado or the San Antonio; and it is quite likely we will tackle the ( i reasers thereabouts." "Good-bye. Mr. Trigg." "Good luck to you. my boy." "He's a bravo lad," mused Mr. Trigg. as Ferry disappeared. "If he was of a more careful way and knew how to manage better for himself, I'd like to see her take a fancy to the youngster. But P-MTV would squander a million in a, month, and give away his soul for the asking." CHAPTER XI. "Look, Stella! What a sunset!" "Oh! Isn't it lovely?" "Those blending of shades and colors are too artistic to appear natural. It is a wonder we did not notice it in its earlier stages." "For a very good reason. We were facing the east while sitting under that tree, and I was so taken up arranging those grasses I thought of nothing else." The sunset was indeed beautiful. A broken cloud of clmco hue stretched along the western horizon, touching the earth, denser shades, while on its summit, in long-reaching fragments, di- verging from a common center, lines of vapor reached the very zenith ther side in strange regularity. The pern-Mings of the deeper shade were lost insensibly B& they mounted the blue empyrean and mingled in the fanciful shapes which lined the outer edges and reflected golden background. Amber shreds, unravelled from the texture iloating cloudlets, crossed blue patches, here and there disclosed, ill gave place in>ensibly to crimson tints interspersed with threads <>\ gold. From below, in one grand blaze of beauty, shaming the r GUY KAYMOND. 73 ance of Aurora, the great orb poured a flood of golden splendor ilia! lent magnificence indescribable to the shifting foreground. The western prairie glowed with the reflected hues from its patches of gray and lingering green, interspersed with clusters of tall, rank i' Hisses, whose yellow tufts nodded gracefully before the evening breeze. Mottes of timber, some verdant in their perpetual evergreen, some half denuded, half clad, in autumnal garb, filled the eastern 'view. One of these half concealed a house, built of logs and boards rived with froe and maul from the native growth, and the remainder of a fence whose zig-zag course stretched a half mile or so until again lost in the chaparral. The speakers, whose conversation commenced the present chapter, were two females. One apparently in that indeterminate age that defies conjecture, and the other, who was addressed as "Stella/' a giV!, perhaps fourteen, of light build and of lithe and graceful form. Her hare head disclosed a, wealth of golden hair. In her arms she carried a collection of dry grasses, their fuzzy yellow and brown heads arranged in bunches. "Aunt Ida, there comes someone on horseback," said Stella, point- ing a little to the right of the direction they had been facing. "I see him," responded the other. "Now he is hid by that bunch of small growth." "There he is again," said Stella. "He is loping his pony." "Suppose we go back towards the house. It may be a prowling Mexican. If he is a friend he will doubtless stop at San Felipe over night." "I am quite certain it is not a Mexican; but we will not wait hero if you think it better not to do so." The horseman overtook them before the house was reached, and, reining up his jaded pony, touched his hat respectfully. "If I am not mistaken, the very lady I want to see," he said, looking directly at Stella. "Want to see me? Has anything hap ? Do you come from Mr. Trigg?" "I am not his messenger. Miss Stella, for I now recognize you ; hut 1 have a letter I promised to deliver." "T^o bad news. I hope. Is it from him?" "Not a bit of bad news had he to write, rhat I know of. He was well when I left him in camp, twelve miles this side of San Antonio. e's the letter. I must see the Governor at once, and "Haven't I seen you before sir?" 'Ton have," answered Perry, blushing under the coat of dust that covered h; -'but I didn't expect you to recognize me in this fix." 74 (irv RAYMOND. "But I can't reim-mber your name." "Asbury Terry,' as you heard Mr. Trigg call me. I was him when he last parted from yon." "I remember you now/" Stella said, coloring slightly at the recol- lection of a little pleasantry of her guardian on that occasion, en- joining Perry to not fall in love with her. "This is my Aunt Ida." Perry's bowed acknowledgment of the honor of the introduction over, he touched his hat rather awkwardly and turned his pony's head down an open lane which their present location disclosed and on which fronted three or four houses, similar in appearance to the one heretofore described, constituting the remainder of the settle- ment of San Felipe. To one of these Perry made his way to deliver the dispatches entrusted to him on leaving the Cibolo. Stella did not wait until she gained the house before opening her letter, and soon after the messenger had left, was deep in its contents. Her Aunt Ida, as she had just denominated her companion, quietly seated herself on one of the blocks composing the steps of the stile in front of the dwelling and awaited the conclusion of her reading. "Well, what news, Stella?" she asked, as the letter was dropped from before the girl's face, disclosing a troubled look. "Mr. Trigg says I am to go to New Orleans to school." "That is not such bad news." "No." "Then why your serious look? 1 ' . "He wants rne to go to a convent." "I suppose he hopes to convert you to his religion." "No, I think not. At least, lie does not want to influence although he would like me to become a Catholic." "In a convent you would be sure to have influence enough." "I would not mind any influence (hey could bring to hear on n I am strong enough in my father's opinions to be proof against any- thing that would not be for my good." "I know very little of them, but have always heard that the mi were very pious and good women. When are you to start?" "Here is the letter. See what you think of it all." Mr. Trigg, who had constituted himself the guardian of Sle! Raymond ever since the massacre on the Salado, had written to his ward quite a lengthy letter, for him, in which he detailed his plans for her future. He wrote that he intended to prove a guardian worth having; that he was possessed of ample means in give her an education worthy of her superior and lamented father, and being GUY RAYMOND. 75 determined to remain with the volunteers until the approaching con- flict with Mexico would terminate., as he hoped, in success to the colonists, lie had decided that she should accompany her aunt on her return to Mississippi. Tho latter was to leave her in a convent in Ne\v Orleans, where it was his wish for her to remain until the compleiioii of her education. Tie had forwarded a letter of credit in \c\v Orleans for her benefit ; also a communication to the Mother Superior of the Convent of the Sacred Heart, with whom he was personal I v acquainted. Stella had become very fond of the man who had protected tier ever since that fearful dav when she had fallen, terror-stricken at the sight of the Indians surrounding- her burning home. The letter, sent by Perry, contained the first intimation that her benefactor was the possessor of means sufficient to educate her at a boarding school, and while disappointed in the location of the latter, she was prepared io obey him in every particular. Her father had taken a liking to the rough Irishman, whom he had first met at the head- quarters of the colony, and who had accompanied him to the beauti- ful, hut ill-fated spot on the Salado. She had heard it stated that Mr. Trigg had invested in land to an extent that had rendered him impecunious and had necessitated a resort to manual labor to secure the means for a livelihood. Hence the reader found him at work for Paul "Raymond at the opening of this story. AVhen her aunt had finished reading the letter she remarked to Stella, that she deemed her to be most forunate to be able to escape from a country so rough and go to a metropolis celebrated for its weilth. refinement and gaiety. "But I shall carry with me the heaviest of hearts, for then all hope of ever seeing poor dear Guy again will be shut out forever." "You are wrong there, my dear child. Tf your brother is living he will know your whereabouts from friends here and will not fail to join you." tv i\lr. Trigg has always said that he was positive of his having been iaken captive, and was equally sure that he would, some day, escape. But I have suspected that his words were intended to calm my fears for my brother's safety." Stella's trembling voice and brimming eyes brought silence to the two. A few moments sufficed to bring, crowding in masses, the incidents of years, as her busy mind and sorrowing heart actively took in the past, now that distance threatened to postpone the hope of meeting with her brother. Her averted face concealed the emotion from her aunt, who sat 76 GUY EAYMOND. humming a low air, as was her custom when occupied with the solu- tion of a question. She was thinking of Stella's destination and of what a splendid opportunity her neice would have in the great city of making a fine matrimonial match; not only on account of her beauty, which it was apparent would become greatly enhanced as she would approach maturity and blossom into perfect womanhood. Then, the letter in her hand certainly stated that the self-constituted guar- dian had means which, if not sufficient to make his ward an heiress of importance, would place her in an enviable position of independence. She somewhat impatiently remembered that Mr. Trigg had decided on a convent. Of all places a convent was the least calculated to produce a "showy" girl, one calculated to take in society at the mo- ment of her debut. Stella's aunt was a woman of the world; had blossomed from a fashionable boarding school and remembered well the contrast between her own powers of attraction and the quiet demeanor and subdued manners of one of her contemporaries who had emerged from the precincts of a convent. She could not account for the stupidity of people who failed to profit by experience in such matters. The lady's reverie was arrested by the reappearance of Perry, who had almost joined them in the fading twilight, without having been perceived. He was afoot and without a coat. "Why, Mr. Asbury! You performed your mission in a hurry. Have you gotten through with the Governor already?" asked the lady. "He was not at home. He went with a party across the river and has not yet returned. I hastened back to bring this, which I forgot to deliver with the letter." Perry held up the medal as he spoke and placed the trinket in the hands of Stella. The latter examined it in surprise and gave Perry a look of inquiry. "He said for you to wear it, Miss Stella. It is something t' belongs to his religion, and he believes it will keep one from harm." "Such superstition!" exclaimed the lady. "I wore it inside my coat until I gave it away, and then I placed it in the pocket of my waistcoat. I had the medal convenient and m case of danger would have tried what virtue there was in it." "It is a medal of the Virgin," said Stella, examining it closely in the dim light. } "And I suppose you are quite ready to accept all the t\vad<] Stella, laughing. Guv "RAYMOND. 7!) "Yes, a good mirror," returned her aunt, with a half reproachful tone and look, which betrayed a suspicion that Stella's remark and manner contained a reflection upon her excessive primping. "Would Uncle Clarance like it if we were to go without him ? v "I could not help his likes. He has no business to be gone so long. He came to invest in land, and it seems he is so hard to please that he must ride over half a continent to suit himself in a few thousand acres. The Governor told the simpleton thai the lirazos lands were the finest in the country." "I do liope the Indians won't hurt Uncle Clarance." "It would serve him half right to meet with some misadventure I declare! Your collar is all awry, my child. Fix it and let us ><-. out to breakfast." "So ii, is," said Stella, going over to the little glass. "You know, Auntie, you monopolized the mirror, and I had to primp without one." "That's a great mirror! Don't forget to write your letter to Mr. Trigg this morning so that man can take it back with him. And YOU had better ask him to change his mind about putting you in a (on vent, if you ever want to have any accomplishments. They do not know how to teach music, and a girl is so cut ofT from ihe world that she does not know how to act or make a good appearance in society. If you want to be a religieuse, why a convent is the place lor you, for religion enters into two-thirds of their curriculum. Have I loo much powder on my face?" Stella replied to her aunt's question in the negative, without tak- ing psiins (o examine for any superfluity of powder and, opening the door leading out of the bedroom ihe two proceeded to join Ihe hostess. The morning had progressed apace when Stella had procured paper, pen and ink to write a Idler to Mr. Trigg. She repaired to the bedroom occupied by herself and aunt and closed the door for privacy. Seated by a little table at; a window she heaved a deep sigh as ;; prelude to the I'd lee (ion that her contemplated communication would be a difficult one" to compose, if she desired to especially please her guardian. She had never written many letters, and she tapped her penholder on the windowsill for many minutes while she gazed abstradedlv out upon the open prairie before she turned finally to her task. Stella wrote for a. long time, frequently correcting and interlining, until six; had covered a. good deal of paper. Looking up with a sigh of relief, she said, just audibly: 'Til read it, over and then copy it in a nicer hand." 80 GUY EAYMOND. While Stella is reading over her production, we will glance over her shoulder and glean the contents. "My Dear My Trigg: "Mr. Perry brought me your letter and I was so glad to hear that you were well. The roads were so terribly dusty and Mr. Perry was so covered with dust, that at first I did not know him. He knew me right away. When we met him Aunt Ida and I were out walking and saw him coming a long way off. We gathered some beautiful long grasses which Auntie will take home with her and put in her parlor vases. I am ever so much obliged for your kind intentions towards me. I have heard a great deal about convents much against them and much in their favor. You know my father was what they call an infidel. He did not believe that God had ever established any of the religions of the world. He always claimed that his religion 'duty to his fellowman/ was all sufficient. But my father always had great respect for the Catholic sisters in and out of con- vents, and gave them great credit for devotion to their ideas of duty. Between you and me, Aunt Ida has not much idea of convent education. She thinks that girls are kept too much in seclusion while being prepared to take a part in the affairs of life, and are little more than mummies when they leave school. But Auntie is all for society and dress, .and is as particular in Tier toilet out here as she would be in a city. My own opinion is that of my poor, dear mother that girls soon enough learn the arts of society after they finish their studies. I then have no objection, and feel that I have no right to express one, to do just as you desire me to do. As Auntie has tired of this place, she has made up her mind to go home right away, by the schooner that landed the New Orleans volunteers at Velasco. So I will soon be off 1<> school and leave you in this wild country with a cloud of war hanging over it. Oh ! You have no idea how my heart aches when I think of turning my back- on the graves of my dear parents. And my dear Guy ! Where is he ? He, too, may be dead. If not, his life may be wretched as a captive. Do try, my dear Mr. Trigg, to learn something of his fate. News came to us today that a company of settlers had pursued a band of the same Indians who destroyed our family, on a late raid on the Colorado, and that the Texans had killed' their chief and burned their villages on the San Saba. It may be I hat ihe men who were in this expedition learned something of my brother. I believe if it is in your power you will find out whether he is dead or alive. "Mr. Perry will take this to you. The poor fellow has no coat, scri ma< see GUY RAYMOND. 81 having given his away to one in need. My aunt brought a suit for poor, clear Guy and I mean to give it to Mr. Perry. 'Pake good of yourself, Mr. Trigg. If you should get killed by those l.crriblc Mexicans, what would become of poor me? I hope you will write io me whenever you have a chance. Good-bye. Your little friend, Stella Kay mon d. P. $. I knitted you two pairs of socks which Mr. P. will give you. AY hen Stella had copied her letter nicely and had added the posl- ript, it was nearly noon and she could hear the preparations being ade to serve the midday meal. Mrs. "Raymond had been over to the Governor, in regard io the day set for th<> sailing of the schooner, and had remained to chat with the family, as was her ous- m whenever she visited the executive mansion. Mrs. Morgan came in to call Stella, to dinner and to ask if her unt had expected to return in time for the meal. It was an hour or two after noon before Mrs. Kaymond returned, d with her came Perry, leading his pony, prepared for his return p to the Cibolo. Stella had her letter in readiness, and in a neat bundle she had laced the suit of clothes, which were intended for her brother, to- ther with the socks she had so thoughtfully made for Mr. Trig.u. 'erry entered with the lady to tell those in the house good-bye and ceive whatever messages Stella might wish to send. "You did not make a very long stay, Perry/' said Mrs. Morgan. "I hadn't the say-so, ma'am. When we get orders we have to ight or day, rain or shine." " Won't you sit down awhile?" "No, I thank you, Mrs. Morgan. My orders are to lose no time, d my dispatches are, no doubt, very important." "Well, here's a little lunch for you, Perry. I thought you ould not get much to eat on the road." "And here," said Stella, "is my letter to Mr. Trigg. Tell him 1 about us and give him my love. Mr. Perry, it is said that he who casts his bread upon the waters will find it after many days. Iiis is said to mean that whoever helps those in need will himself be Iped in turn. Here is a suit of clothes intended for my dear, lost. other, which I ask you to accept. You have earned it by your kind t in parting with perhaps your only coat." "Have you forgotten Mr. Trigg's socks?" asked her Hunt. "I came near forgetting to mention them. They are in the bundle, r. IVrry." 8% GUY KAYMOND. Perry, who had experienced a choking sensation at 'the kindn showered upon him, had a little difficulty in enunciating words o thanks. He had really parted with his only coat, and felt more gratitude than he expressed. "You all are kinder to me than I deserve, Miss Stella. I can nev forget you." After the good-byes had been spoken the young man bowed his wav out and was soon upon his pony, and with the Indies' donations secured behind his siddle, he galloped down the road, turning occasion- ally to give an answering salute to the handkerchiefs waving the ladies' adieux. "Stella! Do you know we have to get ready this afternoon to leave for Velasco in the morning?' 1 said her aunt, leading the way to their room. "How should I have known it, Auntie? This is the first I have heard of it." "Mr. Trigg should have known it," said her aunt, "and I ought to have told Perry. T wanted to see your letter. Those ladies would make me stay to dinner. What did you write about?" "I wrote so many things, I cannot remember all. I mentioned we were to start very soon to take the schooner for New Orleans." "That will be notice enough. Now, child, let us get our things ready and have it over with. T do hate to bo rushed at the last minute. Your Uncle Clarence should be here. He has run craxy ov< Texas lands. T will leave a letter for him with Mrs. Morgan." "What are we going in, Auntie, from here to the coast?" "Oh ! The Governor has put his ambulance at our disposal," sh said gaily. Then, going to the wretched little glass and scannin her face for a moment, she enquired of her neice : "Stella, does my complexion look as well as when I first cam here?" "It looks the same to me, Auntie." The next morning the Governor's ambulance was at Mrs. 'Mor- gan's betimes, and found the travelers ready for the trip. The strong, fat mules and commodious vehicle promised them a safe and speedy transit to their destination. With a Godspeed, wo will cast an old shoe after them and drop the curtain, for the present, on that part of our narrative connected with their after movements. ire : .10 Gi;y RAYMOND. s:> CHAPTER XIII. The morning that Mrs. Iiaymond and Stella left for Velasco, the camp of the Texans on the Cibola was astir with preparations to march. The large tent was struck and rolled, ready for deposit in one of the wagons. The men were variously engaged. Some were saddling horses, while others who had already arranged their i rap- ings were securing blankets and clothing to their saddles, preparatory ounting. The dismounted troops were busy placing their light traps in the n&, and examining their guns and ammunition. The contemplated movement must have been welcomed by the army, for the air resounded with the men's merriment as jest and repartee were exchanged, or a snatch of song rang out in a well- turned voice, or some adept at whistling imitated the sharp notes of a fife. In the midst of it all, grouped in deliberation, were noted men whose names were to go into history, as the redeemers of an empire or martyrs to its liberation. The well known person of Austin and the commanding form of Houston were conspicuous near the trunk of a majestic pecan whose branches covered the party, while near, paying respectful attention to their conversation, were mem- bers of the consultation and officers of the command. Here Fannin stood with folded arms and nervous look, little dreaming of the mar- tyrdom he was so soon to suffer for the cause he had espoused. There, near, him, reclined Bowie, silent, save when addressed, to make some 1 iconic answer, with the veiled future pregnant with the fame of the tn Alamo, t was Austin who spoke : | am perplexed with this delay of the promised reinforcements. blame may lie at my door, llirmigli my lack of military experi- and those powers to organize and conduct a campaign so essential to a soldier in command." "You have left nothing undone to arouse the country and con- centrate your force," replied General Houston. "But I feel my lack of experience in the field, and would much prefer position in the council, or a mission for assistance to the States. In either capacity I would be useful. As commander in chief, one mistake may work irreparable injury to our cause. Gen- II Ion-ton, yini should command here." 'No, Austin! The army I found here had chosen you for their 84 GUY RAYMOND. leader; any change now, may tend to dissatisfaction 'that would be more fatal than the grossest error of a commander." "But fully one-half of these troops are from the East, and carne here under your recognized authority. You have had experience as a volunter commander and possess great influence over men. These two facts point to you, of all men here, as best fitted to lead us." "No arguments yon can make, General Austin, will change my determination. T will only take command by your orders," re- pi iod Houston, firmly. Austin, after a moment's reflection, in which his face wore a troubled expression, turned to the several officers and gave orders for the immediate marching of the command. He designated Fannin's company to lead the movement, the direction of the march to be taken from the guide who would ride with its commander. The orders of the chief were obeyed with alacrity. The head of the column crossed the stream, and the Texans were on their way for the Salado creek. The mounted men, who comprised about one- sixth of the troops, were divided into three divisions, one to act as advance guard, another to bring up the rear, and the third were thrown out to the right, as flankers, to examine the country towards San Antonio. Among these latter it was the fortune of Mr. Trigg and his mess to be numbered. Captain Bowie, who was in command of the flankers, was instructed to cross the Salado within four miles of the town, and to scout the country thence to the San Antonio river, with the view of detecting the proson> of any force which the enemy might have pushed forward to anticipate the pendii movement of the Texans. After a trot of some five or six miles the crossing indicated w; s reached, and the party filed down the steep embankment to the gravelly stream that ran swift and shallow where it crossed the road they were pursuing. "Halt, men ! You may dismount here for a little while. I will go to that hill yonder and take a survey of the country towards town. Henry Karnes, I want you to go with me." So saying, Captain Bowie rode off at a brisk pace towards the elevation he had indicated, followed by Karnes, who was one of his most trusted and faithful men. "We might as well act on the Captain's suggestion, Mr. Trigg, and get down and rest our nags," said Tip Hamilton. "This is a pretty little stream here. If I had a little more time and a propitious muse, I believe I could indite a little verse on its beauties." "You won't have any use for verses and such like, I'm thinking. GUY EAYMOND. 85 We are pretty near the Greasers now, and no telling what hot work is waiting for us. You call this a pretty stream! You should sec il above here, at the forks, where those Indian devils destroyed the home of Mr. Eaymond, who I was telling- ye about." "The father of the little girl to whom you wrote the other day?" asked Tip. "The very same. But she's not so little. She's over fifteen. It makes me sad to think of the work of those murderin' Indians." "Did yon not say that she had a brother of whose fate you were uncertain ?" "I did. Poor Guy ! He was as fine a lad as ever lived. I wonder t ever came of him," said Mr. Trigg, in a sad tone. "Guy E-a-y-m-o-n-d !" pronounced Hamilton, musingly. "It is a ;ty name and sounds more musical than Tiptou Hamilton." "It is a, wonder that you would acknowledge it! You are so stedly conceited," said Jones, who had come near 'and heard the last of the conversation between Mr. Trigg and Hamilton. "Conceited, say yon? You knight of commonplace romance! You champion prevaricator! Yon brazen narrator of the impossible, the impracticable, the incredible! You hero of the wonderful bridge and eight hundred elephants! You "What in the d 1 are you up to. Tip?" asked Ducio Halfen, >roaching. "Apostrophizing Jones." ' Apostrophizing him?" "Yes, he belongs to the supernatural." "He is good natural, that's sure," said Ducio. "If I wasn't, you'd both been dead men before now. My patience I't always last, however." "Well, Jones," said Hamilton, "wiih all your faults you have but serious one, and if vmi don'l want to be the butt of the camp, just take my advice on one point." "And what is that?" asked the victim. "Stop lying." "Here comes the Captain back. 1 wonder if he has_ spied the isers," said one of the men. "They can't be coming this way, if he did, the slow way he's ing," said another. "I don't b'lieve Jim Bowie would run from fifty Mexicans," said first speaker. "Neither would Karncs. He's an nlo Indjun hVhtcr. Up to ther id of the Trinity once, me and Karnes and two other fellers kept UY .RAYMOND. forty or more Injuns off untell night come, and we 'scaped down the river in a dug-out. He's all grit, he is." This was said in a drawling tone, by a tall, lank individual, who Deemed to he all hones and muscle, whose attenuated form would have .furnished an uncertain mark for shaft or bullet. His appearance afforded an opportunity for the exercise of Hamilton's wit. "I can understand the risk run by Mr. Karnes, and perhaps by the other two on the critical occasion you mention, but, my dear sir, you certainly could have entertained slight apprehensions of any contact by your attenuated anatomy with the missiles of the dusky lords of the prairie." Hamilton's sally, not comprehended by the backwoods man, caused a laugh among some of the bystanders, among whom was Ducio. The lean individual looked from one to another for a moment, then, comprehending that something had been said at his expense, he clubbed his gun in a menacing manner and addressed himself In the Mississippi man: "See here, my frien,' I don't know nuthin' about you, and still less about yer talk, but if yer got anything ag'in Nathan 'Roach why, jos' sail in an' I'll show yer that you ain't no more'n nuthin' you game niakin/ stuck-up counter-hopper w-h-o-o-p !" Mr. Eoach, as he gave a regular Indian warwhoop, circled his clubbed gun and cleared a ring in a second. The presence of the Capain and Karnes at this moment put a stop to further demonstrations. "What's the matter, Nathe?" asked his companion of the Trinity fight. "A little trifle, Karnes; not enough to make a feller rale mad. 1 was jcs' a-showiii' a counter-hopper a flourish or two. It take- a man to rile Nathan Roach." Hamilton was amused at the fellow V language and capers, and half put out at his offensive estimation of himself, liul he con- cluded he had got hold of a bad subject for ridicule, and that the I test way would be to smoothe over what had occurred. "Here's my hand, Mr. Eoach. I did not mean any ill ing by my incomprehensible jargon. You are true grit, and I want you to save it all for use right along side of me when w r e jump the Mexicans. My name is Hamilton." "All right, Mr. Hamilton; you know how to talk sensible like when yer \v;mis to. i< A J' yer know me long yell find it lioap safer to have Nathan Roach's good-will than to make n enemy oiitVn him." The Captain's voice, calling the men to mount, cut short the discussion, and the saddles were soon filled. GUY .RAYMOND. Bowie directed Karnes to select six men and to proceed at once on the duty to which lie had assigned him. As the latter along the line, several signified a willingness to volunteer, but Karnes stated that' he wanted good horses as well as good men. Ho told them he knew all the riders were fearless, but that some of iho horses were poor. The detail was at length complete. Among those sekvied, live are already known 1o I In- render. Mr. Trigg was tak< v n first, as his animal was the best in the command. Then came Tip Hamilton, Nathan Roach, .Jones and Ducin Hal fen, in ihe order named. The sixth and last man belonged t'o that large family whose name is cosmopolitan. TTis name was John Smith. Jones was a little miffed at not being selected first, on the score of horseflesh, as he had the pedigree of his charger in a memorandum book and had regaled his messmates on his merits over many a camp fire. Karnes drew lik- men aside and ordered them to dismount, while the main body, under the lead of I heir commander, filed awav and proceeded down the right bank of the stream. When the last trooper had disappeared over a rise; in the rolling country Karnes said to his men: "Boys, we've got to scout right into San Antone, almost. We've got to go to the powder house, anyhow, unless we meet a force. After we^get there, I will be guided by circumstances." ''Hurrah !" cried Hamilton, "we'll have a little excitement, if nothing else." ''How many of you have ever been in San Antone?" asked Karnes. No one responded in the affirmative. Mr. Trigg had not an- swered. Finally he said: "I was there once, but it was a long time ago." Karnes then had an inspection of the ammunition and the pieces of I 10 men. Finding everything in good order and condition, he gave the word to move, and his little squad were soon on the road leading to the city of the Alamo. As they reached the summit of the first rise, at a distance of about a thousand yards from the creek, the white top of the powder house revealed itself just peeping over the inesquite growth, which crowned the brow- of the intervening hills. Awav to the right was the line of timber bordering the San Antonio and its tributary, the Olmos, a beautiful stream whose pellucid waters largely supplied the former's volume. Thi> fringe of wood, seeming to -l;irt the blue hills that; were in fact many miles beyond, Insi itself behind the rising foreground that alone -shut out a view of ihe white walls of Bexar. RAYMOND. Karnes rode oft' a few yards and placed himself on a knoll s what more elevated than the road, and slowly swept the country wit a small glass which he drew from his pocket. His view was take to the southwest and south, then, passing the latter point, he turne the glass slowly eastward, and remarked to l-lir men who had gat!, civ around him: "There is the main command. You can see the dust with th naked eye. They are making for the mouth of the Salado." "Can you see the Captain and our other boys?" asked Hamiltoi "It don't take a glass to see them," said Mr. Trigg. "Look thercl way to the southwest no they couldn't a-got that far." Karnes turned his glass in the direction indicated. "They are Mexican cavalry, Mr. Trigg! They are a long way ofl but may see us, if they are using a glass. Get back to the road boys, and we'll keep on to the powder house." A half mile, and the latter showed more than half its white lime stone masonry to the scouters, now in-own more cautious in tliei movements. Karnes halted them and ordered all to leave the roa( and dismount in the chaparral. This disposition made, he nodded to Nathan "Roach : "Nathe," he said, "I want you to come with mo afoot until w< can see every inch of that powder house. T don't want any shootinj unless we're obliged to. Maybe there's nobody there." "All right, Karnes. I'd tike to draw a bead today on a. Greaser,' said Nathan, following the other. They moved off through the mesquite bushes, watched by tliei comrades until lost in the foliage. Up over a hill or two, with here and there an open glade tc pass, the frontiersmen pushed stealthily along until they reached the brow of the tableland on which stood the object of their np proach. The powder house was built of white limestone and rose with nearly perpendicular walls slightly converging at the top, tr a height of about forty feet from its foundation. It was built prob ably for the purpose disclosed by its name, and partly to answer foi a lookout to detect the presence of Indians or enemies of an> description. A door on the northern face of the building was the sole entrance and each side, near the top, was pierced by a -mal window. Our adventurers found themselves in a dens* 1 growth, which inadi an oblong circuit of the opening whore towered the structure. Tho\ crawled to its edge and peered through into the open space. Tin door of the house was open and before it stood a .-tack of GUY KAYMOND. 89 Just, wit li in could be seen several Mexicans seated and apparently playing cards. Another came lazily around the northwest corner, rolling a cigarette. He stopped at the door, said something to the others which caused a laugh, took punk and steel from his pocket and procuring a light, began to smoke. "Golly ! What a shot I could make," said Nathan Eoach. The Mexican looked suddenly in their direction. "Hush talking so loud, Nathe. Looked as if that fellow heard you/' said Karnes. The smoker entered the house, and could he seen to mount the stairs, the foot of which was immediately at the right of the door. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight," counted Karncs. "Light muskets in that stack. Reckon that's their number. 'Look, Karnes, that fellow is spying the country/' The Mexican was at the oast window and, leaning; out, looked earnestly to the eastward; then gradually swept the horizon to the southeast. "Golly! Couldn't I fetch him from that- hole," said Eoach, drawing a bead. "Behave, Nathe! You're acting 1.1 10 plum fool. I want to bag them Greasers. Go back and bring up the boys. Let 'em draw straws so as to see who will have to stay and hold the horses. Let 'em come mounted 'round that first hill and leave the nags in that ravine we crossed. It is too far to leave 'em at the place where are now." "All right, Karnes. Won't he gone long," said the other, moving off with his long back in a horizontal position. Karnes amused himself watching the unsuspecting enemy. The Alcxic; n had quit the window and reappeared below. The bells in town announced the hour. It was noon. CHAPTER, XIV. ()u iie. opposite ihc cathedral of San lu-rnando, running as nearly as a conformance with the winding river would permit, a short street opened, ending at the extremity of the peninsula through which ran the parallel and principal avenue of the town. The latter known as "Calle Principal." The short street was named "Callo de Cared." pedestrian would leisurely turn into the Calle de Cared from the nijiin pla/a, he would sec a very narrow street, wide enough l<> (irv RAYMOND. allow two vehicles to pass each other, provided the drivers would be careful and in full sympathy with the universal custom which gov- erns the choice of sides to take. On either side of the narrow way. abutting on the sidewalks, extended the low, thick walls of the Mex- ican houses, relieved alone by the deep portals and grated windows. Here and there, on the river side, jacals were interspersed, lending contrast to the view by their, tule roofs and mud-bedaubed sides. The river, encroaching upon the street, caused an interval that terminated at a rude footbridge spanning the stream where an old mill stood, with its huge wheel conspicuous, and turned in ceaseless revolution by the rapid current. Below the bridge, the waters, seething and foaming as they escaped the narrow pass way that caused the power, changed to deep, cool eddies, then to a thousand ripples and stream- ing lines of white above the blue as the translucent flood poured over the stones and pebbles of the broad shallows where passed a ford. Above a low stone wall comprised the dam. Through this rude work the searching waters found exit by many a moss-lined crevice and came in rills and spurts to half inundate a cress-covered isbuul that held the center of the bridge. Beyond the dam the blue river formed a pretty picture with its receding banks lined bv willows, whose half weeping branches fell pendant until their graceful foliage kissed the tranquil surface. Two doors from where the Calle de Carcel left the plaza, as one would turn into it to the right, was a tienda containing several tables, spread with snowy cotton cloths, occupying the sides of its small front room. A back door, half open, disclosed a rear apartment and allowed a glimpse of a large iron pot swinging from a tripod. A little further on a small sign was faintly scrawled over a door and spelled out, on a closer inspection, v-i-n-o-t-e-r-i-a. Opposite the vin- oteria, the structure not differing materially from its neighbor's, was the carcel or jail, whence the street had derived its name. At a stone's throw from the carcel, with the market intervening, and slight- ly retired from the paved walk, was another sign, swung so as to be visible up and down the street. This bore the rough draft of a bull's head while, partly above and partly below, were the words "Cabeza de Toro." Next to the shop of the Monte Pio, the resort of the Cabeza de Tor<> was the most popular. Here was dealt the name so fascinating to the average Mexican. The Bull's head was open, at all hours, to the votaries of monte; but night was the favorile time, for the croud, which would then assemble at the rooms- in goodly numbers, and hould the occasion be the evening of a lies! a, would (ill them to Grv 1. \y.\io NT>. 01 their utmost capacity. The monte room equalized all distinctions. Here the patrician and the plebean met and puffed the fumes of the ciirareta in each other's faces. The high official and the ladron, the owner of the hacienda and the mendicant rubbed against each other, the interest in the all-absorbing game suppressing every feeling that elsewhere would have been engendered by offensive contact. To add to the attractions of the place, the proprietor had appro- priated two apartments for other purposes. One of these, fronting on the street, was devoted to nightly fandangos, free to all the patrons of the monte rooms. The other, to the rear, was the wine room, where a villainous native beverage, called mescal, was served for a <|iiar;i!la a drink. In Ihis laiter room were tallies or stands, where Mexican dishes wore sold by women who paid a rental for the privi- lege. Kadi st-and bad ils own furnace and coals, over which were placed ihe pois containing (he edibles, and from which fhev were dished oui, hot and steaming on demand. Such was lho most notorious resort in Bexar, at the time of our writing. The presence of the army of the Mexican (Jeneral Cos. consisting of about'. two thousand troops, gave unusual life to the iou'ti and trebled the usual attendance 1 at the Cabeza de Toro. After Jose bad finished the duties which devolved upon him as the i loxo to the Father Ignacio, he reported to Guy bis readiness to accoi ipany him to witness a game of monte. He cautioned him in not Mention the fact of the proposed visit to the priest, as the latter had very curious ideas about going to such places. "Kiii, I have been told," said Guy, "thai prices often bet at the game, considering it no barm io gamble." "What you say, senor, admits of much qualification. In Mexico I have seen some of the; padres, who are not any better than they should be, gamble in just such a place as the Cabeza de Toro, but they would not tell their bishop of it. Again, I have known good and holy priests bet a real or more and sometimes win quite ;i pile of silver. And what woidd they do with such winnings? The next dav would see the last quariilla distributed among the poor and sick. i rule the padres are lucky, and when they give it to the hungry and needy, where is the harm?" "If you could take away the bad influences of the example, Jose, there is much philosophy in your remarks," said Guy. "Tho example is good enough^ senor. Suppose everybody would follow it and give their winnings to th' 1 poor?" "Your remark is ingenious," said Guy, laughing. "The example I alluded to lay in the act of gambling and frequenting a place where the associations are usually falal to good morals." 92 GUY RAYMOND. "But, on the other hand/' contended Jose, "when a padre is present the gamblers are quiet and well behaved, and an oath is seldom uttered. The Mexican people have a great respect for the fathers." "Would Father Ignacio bet at a game of monte." "Not he!" said Jose, emphatically. "Does he approve of it in other priests?" "No, senor; neither in priests nor people. Just confess the sin to him, if you want to be amazed at the penance you will' get." "I think Father Ignacio is right," 'said Guy, musingly. They had just turned into the Calle de Carcel, when Jose, pointing into the tienda, remarked: "There is the tienda of Senora Candelario." "Fll never forget her minced peppers," said Guy, glancing into the place. Operations at the place of their destination seemed to be in full blast as they approached. The hum of many voices from the crowd around the door, where hung the sign, was mingled with the lively strains of music from the room devoted to the dance. Jose looked into the monte room, but, discovering that dealing had not begun, suggested to his companion that they take in the fandango first. Guy submitted to the other's leadership and followed into the next room. Four musicians were playing in one corner, producing very creditable music from two violins, a harp and a flute. Seated ;m benches lining the walls were a score of senoritas looking as immo- bile as statuary, save an occasional turn of the head towards the entrance, as some fresh arrival attracted attention. Guy, at Jose's suggestion, took a seat near the door, while the latter prepared to interview the proprietor or other authority, to ascertain how soon the game would begin. Left to himself Guy took in the movements of the arrivals and of the men who sauntered in and out of the room. Many of the latter scrutinized him very closely and with more or less expressions of surprise, on account of his nationality. Jose presently looked in to see how his young American friend was getting along, and brought with him a tall, graceful Mexican. whom he introduced to Guy as Manuel Ruiz. "I am happy to know you, Senor Ruiz," he said. "Consider me your friend and servant, Senor Raymond. But !io\v well you speak our language!" "I believe T speak it pretty \vell for an American. I excel lent teacher." oei :: GUY KAYMOND. 93 "Jose tells me you arrived with Father Ignacio. It is a good recommendation to have been in such excellent company, notwith- standing, I presume you have given your parole and are all right at headquarters." "On the contrary, senor, I have not given any parole, not deem- ing such a step . Now I remember, the padre did say I must not venture out in town before I gave my parole. He does not know I have left the house. Jose proposed to satisfy my desire to witness a game of monte and here we are." "It may be all right tonight, but must not be repeated for your own sake. There are eight hundred Texans encamped on the Cibolo. The capture of Goliad has opened the ball and war has certainly begun. You will see why it will be necessary for a man of your complexion to carry a pass to escape arrest." "What you have communicated is news to me. I have been a 3aptive among the Indians for two years, without a word from my own people." At the request of his new acquaintance Guy related much of the story of his captivity, which enhanced the interest first awakened in the mind of the former, and led to a promise to remain near him until he desired to return to the priest's house. The dancing here begun and couples filled the floor, turning in the easy measure of the Spanish waltz. Euiz, excusing himself, soon joined the throng with a little woman, who had been sitting near, for hi? partner. Guy knew how to dance. The music and the scene before him seemed to electrify him. All at once he caught sight of a neglected senorita in the opposite corner, and, without hesitation, hastened to T side and asked her to waltz. When the music ceased, Euiz, who was looking for his American iend, caught sight of him leading his partner to a seat. Jose was also waiting at the door to show Guy to the monte room. The 'Mexican is a natural gambler. The passion for gaming seems to have become ingrained through heredity. Tbe chance upon which he will stake his last article of property may be determined by the turn of a card or the cutting of a watermelon. Losses, great or small, are endured with perfect stoicism, while success induces no expression indicative of exultation in the Aztec physiognomy. Crossing an unlighted passage dividing it from the scene of the fandango, Guy and his two companions entered a square apartment with flagged floor, high ceiling and the inevitable deep, grated win- dows. On the side opposite the street, three small tables were ranged rUY RAYMOND. near the wall, over each of which an individual presided. Above the middle table, begrimed with dust and smoke, hung the picture of a saint, which the rude letters below it indicated to be that of Saint Anthony. Several persons were gathered around this table watching the dealer as he dexterously manpulated a pack of cards. The men seated at the other tables were carelessly disengaged, while before them lay the cards, ready for use, with their representatives painted upon the board. The game had fairly begun at the middle table, and silver coins from a real up to the Mexican dollar, or peso, were placed upon the favorite cards of the bettors, while the dealer mechanically drew the gaudy pieces of pasteboard from the deck. As the bank would win, the dealer would rake in the winnings and deposit them in a drawer. When it sustained a loss, he would pay from the drawer or from moneys won by the bank on another card. The bets were all very light. After watching these operations for a half hour or more, Guy expressed his disappointment to Jose and Manuel as to the character of the game he had expected to see, and wondered how it could be so attractive to the Mexicans. "You would be much interested if you. would bet at the game," said Jose. "Suppose you try your luck, Senor Raymond," suggested Manuel Ruiz. "I am not supplied with funds tonight," said Guy, laughing, as he remembered his empty pocket. "But tomorrow Jose is to get me the money for my pony and I will risk a real or two." "No need of waiting until tomorrow, senor," said Jose, "for here is a peso at your disposal." "I feel as if I could break the bank tonight, Jose, and if I should have such luck it would make the dealer my enemy. You bet four reals, and if you lose, lend me the other four and I will be pretty sure to win." "That does not follow, but here goes. Quatro reales on the seven." Jose put down his half dollar and lost. Manuel followed his example and won. "The seven was always my lucky card." said Jose, "but tonight it seems as if it is not. Now, Senor Raymond, let us see if my loss will be your gain." Guy waited for a new deal and chose his card without hesitation. He won. He handed Jose back his loan, and bet again. Jose and Ruiz both followed his example and lost. "Que mala fortuna !" exclaimed Ruiz. "There, Senor Raymond has won." GUY RAYMOND. 95 "El no es indio por nada," said Jose. "Indians are always lucky gamblers." Guy had no particular confidence in his further success. He had repaid Jose and was careless, if he won or lost. Each time he won he placed the entire amount on some card, and invariably he would win. His companions had lost all their change, besides several small amounts he had prevailed upon them to accept. They were amazed and amused at his success which, as one of them had predicted, now caused him to become highly interested, and not a little excited. A dense crowd had gathered around the table, and many voices were heard expressing more or less surprise at the luck of the American. Guy counted down fifty pesos and staked them on Jose's lucky seven. He won again. He now had one hundred pesos. Euiz was delighted. He sug- gested to Guy to put aside ninety pesos and to bet small amounts, until he should lose the ten or win another hundred. Guy handed him the ninety pesos and again put his trust in the seven. Success did not desert him. He was highly elated, and, for the first time, looked around at the faces whose eyes were regarding him with wonder. One pair of eyes, however, met his glance with a vindictiveness of expression that arrested his attention, and caused him to look up again several times, only to meet the same sinister look. The fellow's expression annoyed him to such an extent that he lost interest in the game and was not aware of a change in his luck, until he saw the dealer rake his stake into the drawer. He looked up and encountered the gaze that had so perturbed him, and this time the owner of the eyes were close at hand. As he encountered the other's look with one of defiance, and was about to demand what was meant by his offensive glances, they were partially explained by the following words from the individual himself, who pointed directly at him : "Companeros ! This Gringo is a murderer and a thief, and I can prove it." The words were scarcely uttered before the fellow went sprawling to the floor from the force of a blow dealt by Guy's muscular arm. The confusion which ensued would be difficult to describe. The crowd surged back and forward, having completely closed in upon the combatants. Jose and Ruiz tried to get to their friend, being much alarmed for his safety on hearing on all sides cries of "Mueron los Gringos." Their efforts were unavailing. 96 GUY KAYMOND. Jose beat his breast in very agony at the thought of what Father Ignacio would say to him if anything happened to Senor Raymond. He would be blamed for having brought him to the Cabeza de Toro. He looked wildly up and caught sight of the saint's picture. As a last resort he uttered a fervent prayer to Saint Anthony to get him out of the scrape. Just at this moment the crowd parted and revealed Guy overpowered by a half dozen men, while Manuel Ruiz was in the custody of as many more. tff You cowardly dogs! You are none of you a match f or _ that American boy. If it had not been for me and this good knife, you would have killed him for resenting an insult from that dog of a Vasquez." The words from Ruiz infuriated the crowd, who would have offered him violence, had not a short, thick-set, military man inter- fered and brandished his sword to keep them back. "Release Senor Ruiz," he said, in a firm tone. The command was obeyed. Guy had ceased to struggle with his captors and now stood passive. His bare head and disheveled hair, his torn jacket and a bloody mark on his cheek were evidences of the rough handling he had sustained. He had left his mark on many of his antagonists, whose bloody physi- ognomies proved that his blows had not fallen lightly, while his first assailant was completely hors du combat. So soon as qiuet was restored, the officer demanded of Ruiz the cause of the broil. "This young man was called a murderer and a thief by a fellow named Vasquez and, like a man of courage, he knocked down his insulter. He was then set upon by these cowards, who would have killed him but for my efforts to prevent them and his own bravery in defending himself." "Why did Vasquez use such language to the young man ?" "Quien sabe, senor. The fellow never saw him before." "No es verdad I" said a voice, as the owner of it limped forward. "Who are you?" demanded the officer. "Yo? Yo soy Vasquez," making a salute. "What is it that you say is not true ?" "That I never saw this Gringo before," he replied, looking towards Guy. "Was that any reason that you should call him bad names?" "Oyez, senor. Let me tell you the whole story, and Your Honor will say that I am in the right, and that this Americano, Tejano or Gringo, or whatever he is, ought to be punished. GUY KAYMOND. 97 "Buen ; proceed with your story." "Senor, it is more than a year that I and my brother were com- ing to Bexar from Paso del Norte, with some caretas of Don Pedro Sandoval, when we were attacked by a band of Indians near el Rio Pecos. We gave them the best fight we could make, but they cap- tured our train and killed all of our men but four, including myself. Strange to say, among these Indians, and they were Lipans, senor, was a young Gringo who fought like a devil. He killed my brother with his rifle and took his horse, saddle and bridle. The man who did this is before Your Honor, and is the one I called a murderer and a thief." "You may be mistaken, Vasquez." "ISTo es possible, Your Honor. This fellow came in town only today, dressed as an Indian, and he has sold my brother's saddle to the Monte Pio." "What have you to say to this, senor?" asked the officer, turning to Guy. The latter made no reply. "Perhaps he cannot speak Mexican." "You are wrong there, senor," said Vasquez, "you should have heard him talk when he was winning all that money. El habla puro Mexicano, senor." "Es un diablo para pelear," said a bystander, with a closed eye. 'Es la verdad," chimed in Vasquez, "for my poor nose is broken." "Do you speak Spanish?" asked the officer. "Si, senor," Guy replied, stiffly. ''Are these charges of Vasquez true?" "I will answer at the proper time." "Are you an American?" "I am, sir." "Tejano?" "Yes, a colonist." "What are you doing in San Antonio?" "Only passing through." "Have you a pass?" "I was a captive among the Indians. I made my escape only five days ago and this is the first settlement I have reached. I came in today with your priest." "Every word that he says is true," Jose ventured to suggest. I came in with Father Ignacio and Senor Raymond came with us, from the San Geronimo. Oh ! Dios," he continued, aside, "what will the padre say to me about this scrape I have got Senor Raymond into?" "You will have to account well for being inside of our lines, or 98 GUY RAYMOND. it will go hard with you. Besides you will have to answer to the charge made by Vasquez," said the officer, sternly. "Senor," replied Ruiz, "the young man has informed you of his escape from the Indians, and if he was long a captive, he could not know that we are in a state of war with his countrymen." "I do not want any explanations from you, Senor Ruiz. You are not free from suspicion yourself." The officer here gave a signal and a file of soldiers entered, in charge of a sergeant. Giving the latter some instructions in a low tone, he left the monte room. Guy understood at a glance that he was in the custody of a mili- tary patrol, and had no doubt that he was to go to prison. When the sergeant ordered him to fall in, in front of the soldiers, he did so at once and was marched out into the street. CHAPTER XV. Guy's surmise as to his destination was correct. The patrol had very few steps to make before they reached the entrance of the carcel. They entered the corridor connecting the street and the court within, and the prisoner found himself in a paved yard, not unlike the one at Father Ignacio's, where he had performed his ablutions in com- pany with Senor Gonzales. A dreary light from a lantern, which swung from the rear wall and barely made objects discernable, dis- closed a sentinel walking beneath it. Small, grated windows looked in upon the court from high places in the masonry in the southern wall, indicating the positions of the prison cells they were intended to ventilate. The sergeant brought the patrol to a halt, then spoke to the sentinel, who immediaely knocked at a door in the wall oppo- site the cells. After repeating the summons, the door slowly opened and sufficiently to admit the passage of a round, fat head, which pro- truded itself and in an effiminate voice, demanded : "Que cosa es?" "Abra la puerta, viejo ; we have a nice young Gringo for you. If you know what is good for yourself you had better put him in your safest cage, for he is a strong bird." "Where did you catch this pajorro, tan fuerte? Have you had a battle, and is this one of the prisoners?" "No, tonto. The fight was only a fisticuff, and this young savage, who is a kind of Lipan, broke half a dozen noses, and closed up as many more eyes before they secured him." GUY RAYMOND. 99 "Wait until I get my keys," said the owner of the fat head, as he drew it in again. He soon reappeared muttering: "Pajarro muy fuerte, pajarro muy fuerte." The rotund form of the jailer was in keeping with his head. He strode along the paved court with a shuffling pace to retain possession of his buckskin slippers, into which his feet were thrust, without regard to the exposure of his bare yellow heels, just visible under the bottoms of his loose trousers, that depended in remarkable fullness from a waist past the medium of corpulency. He thrust a heavy iron key into the lock of a door to the left on the corridor and, while doing so, he scanned the features of the prisoner from under his elevated left hand. The door yielded to his pressure and mo- tioning to the sergeant to bring on his man, he enterd, repeating to himself : "Pajarro fuerte." Guy, obeying the order to follow the jailer, found himself in a narrow passage and could dimly distinguish another doorway, just as he heard a movement of a rusty bolt, followed by the deeper dark- ness of a cell that became apparent as the door opened. "Entre," commanded the fine voice of the jailer. Guy half hesitated, when the sergeant assisted him by a plight push. The door was quickly closed, the rusty bolt grated harshly as it shot into place, and the cell was filled with inky darkness. Left alone to his reflections, Guy stood for a while motionless, half dazed by the change which a few minutes had made in his for- tunes. The monte room pictured itself before him ; the dealer with the cards, slowly manipulating them, the crowd, interested, wondering- at his strange luck, the sinister expression of those eyes in which he had divined mischief to himself, his subsequent collision with their owner and his struggle with the mob, all passed rapidly through his mind. And his winnings? His hand sought his pocket, but he remembered that he had entrusted every cent to Buiz, the gallant fellow who came to his assistance. The latter had proven a better comrade than the timid Jose, whom he had seen looking wild and irresolute while Manuel was uttering the tirade against his assailants. Even the little senorita, with whom he had waltzed, looked at him with her soft eyes from the mental panorama that passed before him. What would Father Ignacio say when his erring mozo, Jose, would communicate the news of his mishap, brought about by his well intended chaperon- ing?" As the subject matter of his thoughts terminated in flu 1 rapid 100 GUY EAYMOND. digestion of all the incidents of the evening, a feeling akin to despair weighed upon him for a moment. It was only for a moment, for, raising his head, he caught the lighter shade of the heavens in a space scarcely larger than a hand, in the midst of which glimmered the soft, silver light of a star. As trivial as was this circumstance, his heart sent back a greeting to the celestial monitor that, of all the universe, was peeping at him through that little space of the window of his cell. He groped about, feeling to discover what objects, ani- mate or inanimate, might be his co-occupants. Nothing more than the bare, damp walls. Not a seat to rest upon. He did not expect to find a bed. He walked slowly up and down the narrow limits, pausing at every turn to look at the star, the only object he could see in the whole universe. He began to feel very weary, when the noise of the sliding bolt arrested his attention. The next moment the door of the cell opened and the peculiar voice of the jailer sang out: "Aqui esta su cama." A rustling noise on the floor indicated that something had been tossed in. The door closed, the bolt shot forward to its place, and all again was quiet. Guy, on examining his acquisition, discovered it to be a tick of cornshucks, amply filled, but too short for a comfortable bed. He stretched it out to its full length, however, and improvising his coat for a pillow, laid himself down for a rest, without any hope of being able to sleep. He was exceedingly weary, having had little repose since the early morning, to which was added the effects of his struggle with the crowd after he had disabled his denouncer, Yasquez. He had escaped with little injury, sundry bruises about his head being the extent of the damage to his person. He continued awake for a long time, nursing his thoughts and speculating as to the outcome of his present predicament, when he gradually lapsed into a dreamy slumber. Jose had kept in sight of his unfortunate American friend until the darkness of the prison corridor shut him out from view. He heaved a sigh and uttered a Spanish imprecation as he turned towards the plaza. He was about to pass the tienda of the Senora Candelario, when he observed Manuel Euiz, seated at one of the tables in her establishment, with his head leaning on his hand, as if ab- sorbed in deep reflection. Anxious to find sympathy in his dilemma, Jose immediately entered the shop, seated himself opposite to his friend, and placing both elbows on the table aped, without intending it, the position of the other. GUY KAYMOND. 101 "You are not playing monkey, are you?" asked Ruiz, rather in- dignantly. "I feel too mad to stand any foolishness, and the business we have just been through is too serious for aping." "Not so serious with you, amigo, as it is with me. If you had to tell Father Ignacio what I will have to tell in the morning, and then to confess it besides Oh, Dios ! That my mother never had borne me!" "It is for yourself that you feel then. If I could have rescued that gallant boy, I would be willing to face a thousand priests, and confess every sin in the calendar. It is his imprisonment in that infernal jail that I regret." "I am as sorry as you, Manuel; but was it not lucky that he gave you the ninety pesos." "D n the money ! It i? of him I am thinking." "But if he had kept the money, those soldiers or old Bonito would have got it. Now, you can keep it for Senor Raymond until he gets out." "If he ever gets out!" "Don't say that, Manuel." "I tell you, these are serious times, and he may be shot as a spy, even if he gets clear of the Vasquez matter." "Get him free from, that, and I am certain he will never be shot, with Father Ignacio here to account for him." "But how to shut Yasquez's mouth?" "It was his brother's saddle and Senor Eaymond got me to sell it to the Monte Pio. That proof would fail, but he recognizes in him the slayer of his brother." "Has the fellow anything." Basques?" ^ asquez." "No, not a quartilla, but what he picks up here and there at odd times. He lives around the Cabeza cle Toro and owes the women for tortillas. He is lower than a peon." "Then I have an idea how to shut his mouth," said Ruiz, striking the table with his hand. Como?" asked Jose, electrified by the hopeful suggestion, will do it with Senor Raymond's money." on todo ? With every cent ? The idea is capital ! But, amigo. all those ninety pesos ! Why, a third of that amount would appear, to that wretch's eyes, like a great fortune. No, Manuel, it would be a shame to bestow such an amount on such an object." "Well, if he takes a part, all right ; but what are ninety pesos com- nA with that young fellow's freedom?" 102 GUY EAYMOND. "Es verdad ; but, Manuel, not the whole ninety." "Your mind dwells on small matters, Jose, when great ones are at stake. I feel better, now that I can see some hope for our friend, and with hope returns my vagrant appetite. Oyez, Senora! Dos platas de chile con came, con tortillas y frejoles." The summons and order were heard by the senora, who had peeped in from time to time, and had caught snatches of the conversation, feeling confident that their order would follow shortly. Soon two smoking dishes of the savory preparation ordered were placed in front of the men, with a third plate of tortillas. "I was to bring Senor Kaymond here tonight, after we had taken in the Cabeza de Toro," said Jose, with a half sigh, cut short by his first mouthful of supper. "Instead of supping here, he is now in prison, and the money he won so beautifully on deposit for the beast who caused his misfortune. Manuel, did it ever occur to you what kind of a world this is?" "The old padre, who taught me, impressed me with the idea that it was round." "I don't mean its shape. I mean the circumstances of life, the events which shape destinies, the influences which affect our for- tunes." "You didn't find that in Father Ignacio's books. He accounts, no doubt, for good and bad fortunes as special acts of Providence. Take care, Jose! Any drifting into a different philosophy will add to the already heavy penances in store for you." "Qwe bruto! To call me back to that dreaded subject, when I had just got it out of my head." "Very well, I will relieve you of my presence and you can find your way to bed, while I search for Vasquez and "Don't, Manuel, pay him all not the whole ninety to such, a " Before Jose could finish what he was going to say, Euiz had hurriedly left the place and was out of sight. The deserted major domo called to Senora Candekrio, who promptly appeared. "What will Don Jose have?" she inquired. "Call me not Don Jose! Call me a burro bruto or anything. Here is the money for our suppers." "Gracias, senor, but what is the matter that you are so worried ?" "Enough is the matter," said Jose, approaching the street door. "Has the fight over the way anything to do with your trouble?" "Everything. A young friend an American has been put in the carcel for breaking the noses of a dozen peons who set upon him." GUY RAYMOND. 103 "Is it the young man who came with el padre Ignacio ?" "The same." "Is he a friend of the padre?" "He has taken a great fancy to him." "Then why hother about it. Surely the friend of el padre Ignacio will come to no harm. Go at once and tell him/' "There's the trouble. If I had not taken him there he would not now be a prisoner. The blame will rest on me, and telling it may cost me my place. My young friend was to take supper here with me." "You are a good customer, Jose. Poor young fellow ! Perhaps he has had no supper." "Not he ! Old Bonito would not take the trouble to hand him a cold tortilla." "He shall have his breakfast then, for Bonito will be glad to let me furnish it." "Good Candelario!" "Where did Senor Ruiz go in such a hurry?" "He is half out of his wits. To think of giving ninety pesos to a peon, to whom five would look like a fortune. He has gone in search of the fellow who caused all the trouble. For ninety pesos I would take myself off. Buenas noches, Candelario," and Jose went out into the street. "Una cosa muy triste," sighed the senora, as she turned back into her shop. Instead of going towards home, Jose proceeded slowly down the street until he came to the vinoteria. He looked in and saw three or four soldiers at a table in the further end. After a moment's hesitation he entered and, taking a seat, called for something to drink. A pottery jug with a mug was placed before him by the shop tender. When Ruiz left Jose so unceremoniously he made his way directly to the Cabeza de Toro. He there looked in every nook and corner, but the object of his search could not be seen. Gambling was still in progress in the monte room, whose atmosphere was almost stifling from tobacco smoke. The chink of silver and the even, musical voices of the crowd went on as if no undue excitement had lately disturbed the quiet of the place. In the danceroom the baile was at its height, and Ruiz was scarcely noticed as he elbowed his way, scrutinizing the faces of the men. He sat down, rather impatiently, and concluded to wait until the dansa, then playing, was over. The music ceased and a young girl seated herself near to him. She was 104 GUY RAYMOND. the same with whom Guy had waltzed. A sudden impulse, probably induced by a desire for some kind of sympathy, caused him to com- municate with her the misfortune of her late partner. "Que mala gente!" she exclaimed. "To put such a pretty fellow in that dirty carcel." "He was brave. You should have seen him easily handle a half dozen men/' "And what a skin he has! I would bet he has a pretty sister." "The Americans are all brave." "And so handsome." "Well, I am off to see what I can do for your pretty partner." "Oh, Manuel! Can I help you?" "You, little one! What could you do?" and Ruiz strode away, glancing back with a half smile at the girl. Out in the fresh air once more Ruiz walked on mechanically until he found himself in the plaza. He turned to the right, down the sidewalk leading to where, half a block ahead, the light from the Monte Pio's streamed into the open square. When near the door he could hear voices and when opposite, he paused and saw, to his satis- faction, Vasquez, the object of his search. He quickly entered. High words were passing between that in- dividual and another worthy, but little more respectable in appear- ance. Vasquez, who was in his shirt sleeves and hatless, had his swollen eye bandaged and was in the act of pulling off his shoes. "Pull them off, you rascal !" the other was saying. "You lied to me to get the money, and now you must pawn those shoes to pay me or I will give you a worse beating than did that young Gringo." Ruiz made inquiry of Vasquez concerning the trouble between him and the other and having fully posted himself, prepared to carry out his scheme. "Look here, fellow ! You have the heart of a dog to force a poor, wounded devil to give up his shoes for a trifle of four reals. Here is your money. You, Vasquez, keep on your shoes. Where is your hat?" "Senor, the Monte Pio gave me three reals on it, to pay that same fellow. I borrowed the money, hoping to win, but I had bad luck tonight." "Here is your hat. You owe me seven reals now." "Mil gracias, senor. I am your servant." "Come, Vasquez, I have something to say to you for your own good," said Ruiz, leading the way out to the plaza. "For my good? You have been so good to me already." GUY EAYMOND. 105 "Yes, but you are in great danger, and I found it out merely by chance." "What is it, senor?" "The young man, the American you had arrested." "What about him ?" "You were mistaken about him about his being with the Indians." "But " "Hush, and I will show that you are honestly mistaken. You noticed how well he speaks our language?" "Si, senor, like a Mexican." "Well, he is American born, but he is an adopted son of el prese- dente, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, and came only this morn- ing with the president's chief of staff." "For Dios ! Lo que dice V., es la verdad ?" "As true as there stands San Fernando." "Oh, senor, what will I do ?" ' "Remain here and get shot, or get out of the way and join .the colonists, or or, do something." "If I had a horse I would leave tonight, right now, but, senor, I have not a quartilla." Ruiz reflected a moment. "I have it!" he said. "I am glad I thought of it. The Texans are not far from here and I have something to send to the com- mander, General Austin. You can take it for me. It is a package of money. Will you do this for me?" "Senor! Would you trust me?" "Why not? You would not be fool enough to stay here and get shot. Besides, I will give you some money for yourself. You know, with money, a man can go most anywhere. The quicker you get out of this, the .safer will be your head." "I will do just what you tell me, senor." "Follow me, then." Ruiz turned into the Calle de Carcel and directed his steps towards the tienda where he had left Jose so unceremoniously. Senora Candelario had closed for the night, but a faint light came from the vinoteria, a little farther on. Keeping an eye on his protege, Ruiz continued down the narrow pavement and entered the latter place. It was apparently deserted by all but the shop boy, who was dozing in a corner. The noise made by the comers awakened him. "How can I serve you, senor ?" he inquired, rousing up as he spoke. "My good boy, it is nearly time you were closing for the night arid I will take the liberty to shut your street door for a few moments, 106 GUY KAYMOND. and will pay you well if you should imagine that' it has cost you anything. Here are four reals as a pledge for what I say. I have a little private business with this honorable gentleman and do not wish to be interrupted." The boy took the money, while Euiz closed the entrance from the street. "Now, my little friend, you step into the back room and allow no one to bother us for a while." After the boy had retired, Ruiz turned to Vasquez. "Now, what is your full name?" "Enrique Jose Maria." "You have name enough, at all events, if you are a pauper," thought Ruiz, as he took a lot of silver from his pockets and counted it on the table. "Ten, twenty, thirty, forty," he called, as he shoved four stacks of pesos to one side. A v.oice in a corner repeated the enumeration and caused Ruiz to look in the direction whence came the sound ;. but seeing nothing, he concluded it was an echo. He rolled up this money in his hand- kerchief and then counted and stacked ten more pesos. "Well, Senor Don Enrique Jose Maria Vasquez, here is a package containing forty pesos, which you are to deliver to General Austin, the commander of the Texans, now in camp on^ el rio Cibolo. He is a friend of mine and will take care of you. Here are ten pesos for yourself. You know the country well. Do not get caught or your life will be forfeited." "Mil gracias, senor. All shall be done as you command'." "Can you read?" "No, senor." "I thought of sending a letter by you, but it. is best that you carry nothing indicating your destination. Now be off and do not let tomorrow's sun see you in Bexar." "Adios, senor," and Yasquez was disposed of. "Al diablo," said Ruiz, as he went to the door and looked after the fellow as he disappeared in the darkness. "Fifty pesos did the work," muttered Ruiz, turning towards the back door. "Is it you, Manuel?" asked an unsteady voice in the shadow of the opposite corner. Ruiz saw, with surprise, the half recumbant form of Jose gazing stupidly at him, with his hand shading his eyes. "You here ! And I thought I was alone." GUY RAYMOND. 107 "Hie! Did you give the fellow the ninety pesos?" "Buarachon ! I did not know you ever got drunk/' "For via de mi madre ! Manuel el padre se anoho con migo." "Come, you poor devil. I will see you home." Euiz helped the inebriate to his feet, and led him out of the vinoteria, CHAPTER XVI. When Guy awoke, after having fallen alseep on his rude prison bed, the light of morning had penetrated through the high, deep win- dow into the recesses of his apartment. As his eyes grew accustomed to the varying shades that hung about the rough and mildewed walls, they wandered inquisitively over every foot of surface, as his thoughts mingled the quaint appearance of his surroundings with the strange mischance which had consigned him to a cell. Deep fissures and jagged points everywhere appeared in the masonry, pre- dominating in number in the arched ceiling. From these his glance was directed to the opening, as he remembered the little star, that had peeped into his solitude and cheered his faltering courage. He thought over his case. Its most serious aspect was doubtless involved in the charge of the fellow who called himself Vasquez. The saddle, which had betrayed him, must have belonged to the man's brother, else the true story of the fight and the recognition of the property could not have followed, so quickly, his arrival in the town. Indeed, he himself had been recognized, unless the presence of Jose had betrayed his identity, as the party who had authorized the sale of the saddle to the Monte Pio. He rose from his bed not very much rested, his limbs stiff, and a dull, heavy ache about his temples. A basin of cold water to lave his head would have been worth more money than all that his strange luck had brought him but a few hours before. What had become of that array of silver dollars which had made the eyes of Jose glisten with eagerness? Ruiz would probably keep it for him or entrust it to the major domo. It might possibly help him some in his difficulty. But the termination of every speculation as to his liberation would be the hope he had in the friendship and influence of the good priest of San Fernando. He, of all persons, was incorruptible. He had been pronounced by his most intimate underling to be a living saint and appeared to be the terror of that worthy whenever he suspected the piqus father had discovered any of his lapses from a prescribed rectitude either in religious or secular matters. 108 GUY RAYMOND. Guy's reflections were interrupted by the sounds of the jailor's voice, the tones indicating displeasure. Old Bonito, as the sergeant had called him, appeared to be in altercation with someone whom he would not allow to enter from the corridor. Although the young prisoner was possessed equally of resignation and resolution, still the sound of the voice was pleasant and welcome. His father had in- culcated in his son's disposition much of his own self-reliant philoso- phy. At fifteen his thoughts had expanded from the chrysalis of traditionary channels to the transcendant realms of speculative in- quiry. His Indian life had been a study of nature. The instincts of the savage, which placed him beyond the pale of a civilization that lowered him by its arbitrary standard of morality, were offset and even overbalanced by the gilded vices and insatiate rapacity of his white brother. The stoic fortitude of the Lipans had impressed their young prsoner with a feeling of admiration for a racial characteristic that held in contempt a display of fear or weakness in any vicissitude. The voices outside had ceased for many minutes, when he heard the shuffling step of the jailer approaching. A rap followed. "Senor Pajarro! Are you awake?" Guy remained silent. "Oyez, senor!" "The bird cannot be flown," muttered Bonito. "I'll just open the door and see if he is dead, deaf or asleep." He unlocked the door and cautiously opened it. Guy stood before him, erect, with a stern expression in his eyes as they encountered those of the jailer. "Por Dios ! Senor Pajarro has bad eyes." "My name is Raymond, Senor Bonito, and if you wish to keep on the good side of me you had better drop your nicknames." "Senor Raymond, your servant! You cannot be half so vicious as the sergeant would have one believe. Ciertamente, siempre, Senor Raymond. No more nicknames. The sergeant introduced you as Senor Pajarro; Pajarro, fuerte; but now Senor Raymond. Stupid sergeant! Bonito is a nickname for me, but I have long ceased to mind it, for honestly, senor, my true name is something wonderful for length, the fault of my parents, however. Strangers, and even some intimate acquaintances, could never remember it, and therefore I submitted to my nickname. I always answer to Bonito. I hope you slept well last night, although your bed was none of the best. They don't furnish me with beds for prisoners and this bag of shucks was all that could be found among my own effects. I will never get pay for this act of my charity; but' Bonito manages to keep even GUY RAYMOND. 109 from certain tricks of his own. For instance, I will charge for your breakfast this morning when it is not my intention to furnish you with a morsel. Not that I could have a heart to starve my prisoner, but I have my permission asked, by a senora who makes the best dishes in the town, that she may have the honor of providing you with a breakfast. Of course, my permission was given, for I will make a real. I am fortunate in getting hold of a prisoner who is so popular with the senoras. I hope, senor senor your name has gone from me already. I was going to say that I hope you will remain with me just as long as Senora Candelario will supply you with meals." The loquacity of the jailer seemed interminable and would have continued to an indefinite length had not Guy interrupted. "See here, Senor Bonito ! Your tongue would have been better employed by making inquiry as to the wants of your prisoner than in discussing yourself and your trickery. I want a basin of water and something to sit on. If you do not attend to me properly I shall apply for a release at once and you will lose your real for my meals. Furthermore, if you treat me well I have money to pay you." "The sergeant did not search you then ! If he did not, it is more wonderful than a miracle. Under the rules it becomes my duty to carry out what the patrol failed to do." As he said this, Bonito advanced as if to execute the asserted duty. The statement of his prisoner that he was possessed of means to pay was taken in the sense that he had the money on his person. The idea roused his cupidity and the first thought was to dispossess his victim in advance and make the manner of treatment a subsequent consideration. Guy at once perceived his intention and thwarted him by a display of determination, coupled with a warning signal from his half extended arm and open palm. "It is plain, Bonito, that you do not know with whom you have to deal. You cannot search me single-handed, but I will relieve you of the torture of believing that I have money with me, by informing you that I have not a cent here. My money is with my friends. It will be to your interest to get me what I require and to do so at once." "You are a bold pajarro, sure enough. You shall have the water and the seat." Bonito made a motion to close the door of the cell, then re- marked : "Xo ! I will be gone but a second, and you could not get out of tho court if you tried." He left the cell door half of en and shuffled away across the court, 8-r 110 GUY EAYMOND. Guy rolled his bed into a corner, made a round or two of his cell, then waited at the door. Before Bonito's return someone was pounding on the closed door leading into the corridor. He heard the summons from the opposite apartment, whence he had stuck out his head on Guy's arrival with the patrol, went through the same performance on this occasion, and shouted to the caller to have patience. "There ought to be a half dozen Bonitos," he said. "Here I have to be run to death serving this one, and answering that one, and a peon is better paid. I half believe that pretty bird has the money on him. (Santa Maria! That fellow will batter down the door.) He would have had his basin of water ten minutes ago if it had not been for Linda's tongue. Even she knows him, and Candelario knows him, and that Manuel Ruiz was here this morning trying to force his way in, without a permit, to see him. Este pajarro es una vera aguila." Bonito finally supplied the coveted water, and depositing the basin and a three-legged stool inside the cell door, he made all the haste he could to answer the loud knocking at the corridor. It proved to be Guy's breakfast which had been sent as promised. The fat old fellow was puffing from his unusual celerity of move- ment as he deposited on the doorsill of the cell a basket covered by a snowy cloth. "If you have many more wants, Senor Pa your pardon, senor, but your name is ?" "Raymond," answered Guy, amused. "I fear I will be poorly paid, Senor Raymond, for to attend to you one will have to run himself to death." "Give me the liberty of the enclosure and I will give you my word that I will make no attempt to escape." "That is exactly what that little tonta, Linda, said when I went for the basin and the stool." "Who is Linda?" "She said she knows you. If true, it seems to me you should know her. Linda is my rattle-brained daughter." "She must be mistaken," said Guy, wonderingly. "She is mistaken in nothing. She has said it, and means it. She knew of your arrest and asked me to let you walk about the court in the day time. Like all women, she is soft-hearted. If she were jailer all the prisoners would get away, for she would parole them all to walk where they pleased." "Not all, Bonito. An honorable man is safer kept by his parole GUY RAYMOND. Ill than by the strongest walls. Perhaps your Mexican race does not understand this sentiment as its men are unusually treacherous." "I am no Mexican, senor. My father was Portugese and my mother Italian. My wife was Mexican. Mexicans are a pretty bad set that is, the men. The women are all right and would turn any- body loose. You had better look into your basket, now that you are washed. Your breakfast will get cold." Guy was not loth to comply with Bonito's suggestion, for he had tasted nothing since the dinner at Father Ignacio's. Seating him- self on the doorsill he converted the stool into a table and took the edibles out of the basket. Everything was steaming. At the very bottom he found a mug of chocolate covered by a plate containing tortillas. "This is better than prison fare/' said Bonito, his appetite sharp- ened by the smell of the dishes. "Ruiz must have had a hand in this," thought Guy. "Do you know Manuel Ruiz," he asked, turning to the other. "Si, senor. He was here this morning to see you, but had no permit; and my orders are strict." "And Jose, he who stays with the padre. Do you know him?" "Everybody knows Jose." "Has he been here?" "No, senor." "And Linda, your daughter, was she here?" "She is here all the time, except when she goes to a baile, or to mass, or to walk in the Alameda. She lives with her father; where eke?" Guy knew that the last girl he had spoken to, since he left Laoni on the mountain side, was she with whom he had waltzed the evening before. "She asked you to let me walk about on parole?" "As I told you." "And you refused?" "I made her no answer. That fellow with your breakfast was about to bieak down the door, and I had to run with your basin full of water in one hand and the stool in the other. You saw how out of breath I was, and senor, my pay is beggarly." "Well, Bonito, I will allow you two reals each day that you permit me to enjoy the freedom of the court." "That is a small pay for the risk, senor." To risk at all. Every morning I will renew my parole." will think about it, senor." 112 GUY KAYMOND. Bonito gathered up the dishes, and promising to return shortly, closed and locked the door. He halted for reflection as he crossed the yard : "Two reals for the liberty of the court; two for the meals that I don't furnish four reals. If he stays a month, that will be fifteen pesos. I believe the fellow has the money in his pocket. He won't let me search him, and if I tell the patrol he has it, where will Bonito be? Better close the bargain. He can't get out except through the corridor door, and that is locked all day." "I thought you were going to stay the rest of the day, papa." These words greeted Bonito as he returned to the apartment fro PI which he had emerged with basin and stool. "Your American is hard to please. He wants everything. I have a notion to put him in irons." "Dear papa ! Do not do that. He waltzed with me at the baile and was so polite and agreeable. He would have stayed with me longer, but another came and took him away. After a long time the same one returned and told me of his bad fortune." "Bad fortune! I think he is doing well. He has money and friends; everybody is trying to get a peep at him; the Candelario is feeding him like a king ; you are begging for his liberty in the court ; besides, I am making a real for every meal sent to him. Linda, be- tween you and me, I believe the fellow has plenty of money in his pocket. He admits the patrol did not search him and says that I shall not. He is impudent." "He is brave," said Linda. "You are a fool." "And he is handsome." "Cayatelaboca!" "Papa, do not keep him in the cell all day." "We will see; we will see." When his cell door was again opened Guy had a long chat with his jailer who tried, in every conceivable way, to draw from him an admission that he had means on his person to defray the promised outlay for the daily privilege to walk about on parole. After finally consenting to the arrangement, he exacted a promise that Guy should not inform his daughter, if by chance he should meet her in the court, that he had exacted any pay for his release from close confinement. There was no sentinel in the yard, which fact was explained by Bonito, who stated that his post during the day was in front of the prison, but at night the corridor was left open and the sentinel walked in the court. GUY RAYMOND. 113 Noon came and passed. The Candelario did not forget his dinner, but he was disappointed that no one had called to look after his interests. Ruiz had been denied admittance, but what had become of Jose? What of Father Ignacio? Guy thought he should be arraigned on the charge against him, but then he reflected the ac- cusers, judges and jurisprudence, were Mexican, even if he were not to be dealt with by summary military measures. The thought rather discouraged him, and he began to lose confidence in his powers. He seated himself on a bench under his high cell window and lowered his head into his hands. How friendless he was! True, he had no claims on the new acquaintances of the last few hours, other than those of common humanity and that chivalrous generosity whose mutual possession draws persons together through the magnetism of a noble similarity. The valley of the San Saba rose to his mental vision. The rock above the falls supported the form of his truest friend, who was waiting, and would wait until the leaves would fall and come again, waiting for El Bravo. A touch upon his shoulder awakened him from his reverie and starting up, he beheld his little partner in the waltz. CHAPTER XVII. The morning after the termination of Jose's visit to the Cabeza de Toro, Father Ignacio was astir betimes. He had duties to per- form about his premises before repairing- to the church to say early mass. His absence had not tended to improve the domestic arrange- ment of his household, and he was too thorough and methodical to trust important matters to irresponsible servants. Jose was usually faithful, but was sometimes derelict in depending too implicitly on others, not actuated by motives so disinterested as was the major domo in the affairs of his patron. On the morning in question he waited, rather impatiently, for the appearance of his trusted steward. The cook had reported that Jose had not been seen, and consequently he had no orders. All about the premises were ignorant of his where- abouts. He was not in his room. Finally, at his wit's end, the priest directed a servant to go to Senor Raymond's apartment and inquire if he knew anything of the major domo. The servant returned in a moment and reported that the reputed occupant was not there, but that he found Jose fast asleep on the bed and that several vigorous shakes had failed to arouse him. Lost in amazement at such news, Father Ignacio hastened to in- vestigate for himself. Sure enough, he discovered Jose in the con- 114 GUY EAYMOND. dition reported, and after several efforts, succeeded in getting him to a sitting position on the bed. The smell of mescal at once ap- prised the priest of the cause of the major domo's stupidity. Why his trusted man had imbibed the execrable stuff to the extent of beastly intoxication, where he had been, what occasion had tempted him, and how he came to be in Guy's room and bed, and the latter gone, were mysteries to be solved. Jose, after sitting up a while, became sufficiently conscious to respond to inquiries. "Jose! Where is Senor Raymond?" "I know not, mi padre. Is he not in his room?" "Why, this is his room. You are in his bed, and he is not to be seen. How came you here?" "I know not, mi padre, unless I walked in my sleep." "Jose, you have been drunk, and only now are getting over the effects. "I may have taken a drink, but not drunk, mi padre. I am sick so sick." "If you are sick, it is from the effects of mescal. Have you no shame? I had need of your assistance at the church, for this is the eve of the Feast of the Holy Rosary, and you well know that I wanted you to do the heavy work in arranging and decorating the grand altar. Now, upon whom am I to depend ? Where is this young American? You say you do not know; but since I find you in this wretched, disgraceful condition, I cannot believe you. Confine your- self to this room until I give you permission to leave. Disobey me, and you will forfeit my friendship." Jose became rapidly sobered during the priest's lecture. Indeed, his debauch had been slept off, but had been succeeded by a stupor that rquired a little time after awakening to admit of a full return of the senses. He had not dared to admit to a knowledge of Guy's misfortune. The denial, once made, rendered it all the more difficult to tell the truth. He was full of remorse, but dared not acknowledge sua culpa, sua maxima culpa to the priest whose life was so pure. Poor Jose ! He fell over on the bed and wept bitter tears on account of the father's displeasure. His fault had not been so great, after all. "If the arrest of his friend could have been avoided, he would have been home in time, perfectly sober, with bright pesos which his unfortunate companion had so beautifully won, and which now, alas, had all gone most probably to the vile Vasquez, who was the cause of all the trouble. Jose came to the conclusion that the worst feature of the whole affair was the discovery of his wrong doing. He pondered on his case and concluded the safest defense would be a GUY EAYMOND. 115 general denial as to his knowledge of Guy's imprisonment. The first use he would make of a release from the restriction to his present quarters would be to institute a pretended search for the missing guest and report the discovery of his arrest under the charges of Vasquez. The fact of his inebriation must be accounted for in some manner, but how, the present state of his muddled brain rendered him powerless to decide. It was quite noon before Father Ignacio relented towards his crestfallen major domo, and consented for him to return to his ac- customed duties. The latter had effaced all traces of his late con- dition and appeared fresh, but serious, when his master's dinner was served. The father's manner was austere and reserved during the meal. He scarcely noticed Jose, and refrained from interrogating him on the subject uppermost in his mind, for the reason that he believed his steward had lied in answer to the questions asked him in the morning. When he had concluded his repast he leaned over the table in a thoughtful mood, mechanically using his goblet in making circles on the cloth, until he had ringed the surface in front of him into a score of interlaced figures. Jose watched the proceedings with many misgivings, for he knew lie was on the eve of receiving either a lecture or reprimand or some order, that was to be the outcome of this deliberation. Finally the pr'est broke the silence: "Jose, I will not ask you to say if you know aught of the cause of Senor Eaymond's disappearance, or why he did not occupy his room last night. Still more will I refrain from pressing you to an explanation of your own conduct and its resulting debauch. I will say this, however, that you have incurred my serious displeasure, and if you would make some atonement for the sin you have committed, as well as for your attempt to conceal it, you will employ this after- noon in making searching 1 inquiry for this young American who, I fear, has been foully dealt with." As Father Ignacio left the dining room, his auditor stood speech- less, mentally relieved by the modified rebuke expressed in tones which, while moderate, conveyed to the major domo the full measure of a distrust, which he hoped the events of the afternoon and his own ingenuity would remove. As soon as Jose had disposed of a hasty repast, he set out for the Calle de Carcel. When Vasquez left, the vinoteria with his treasure he had not tlio remotest idea of his destination. He had listened to the words of T?uiz in all credulity and mentally resolved to let alone the 1 1 dopf < -d son of el presidents and to rely on concealment to escape any 116 GUY EAYMOND. penalty for his mistake. Refuge with the Texans was the furthest from his thoughts. The astonishment which first seized him when Euiz proposed to entrust him with a sum of money was supplanted by eagerness to possess it. His first precaution, on leaving the vino- teria, was to watch for the exit of his benefactor, from a safe position in a doorway. He soon saw him come out, supporting the unsteady form of Jose, and turn up towards the plaza. He followed them until the latter had been duly deposited in the hallway of the priest's house, and he had seen the other walk briskly away and enter the Calle Solidad at the northeast corner of the square. Satisfied that Euiz had disappeared for the night, he hastened back to the Cabeza de Toro. Before entering he sought the shadow of the carcel wall, where an alley separated the two buildings, and taking the handker- chief from his bosom, he undid the roll and deposited the silver in the several pockets about his person. The coins chinked in spite of his precautions and he dropped a piece, for which he groped about for several minutes, raking the ground with his fingers. He uttered an oath at his want of success, then hurriedly left and entered the gambling 1 den, without having noticed two forms, which turned the corner in time to hear a tell-tale clink of the silver to betray his presence. "Who was it ?" asked a voice. "I saw his face as he went in the door and think it was Vasquez." "He! With money?" - "Perhaps he has been winning." "Let us go in and watch him." Vasquez's face wore the expression of supreme content as stood over the gaming table and made his first bet. He became deeply interested as the game continued and fortune favored him. His first varying success now changed to one continuous flow of luck and so absorbed him that he did not notice anything but the cards and the dealer. Finally he lost. Another bet, and he lost again. He hesi- tated as if uncertain what to do, watched the game a while, th turned and left the place. "Which way did he go?" "To the left, down the street." "You cross over. I will follow him on this side." The two, who had heard the clink of silver in the alley, follow Vasquez as he hurried in the direction of the old mill. When Jose arrived at the Calle de Carcel he apparently changed his mind, for he continued down the east side of the plaza until he reached the door of the Monte Pio. He found the proprietor busy GUY RAYMOND. 117 bargaining with some woman over several articles of jewelry, and while waiting until he would be disengaged, he peered into the show- case at the various articles of silver and gold ornaments, jewelry, spurs, silk sashes, medals and other things of more or less value. His attention was attracted by a silver medal of the virgin attached to a string of pure, white beads, ingenously interwoven. He remembered Guy's description of his lost trinket, and concluded that this new addition to the monte pio's stock must be the medal lost in the camp on the San Geronimo. The Monte Pio saluted Jose gaily as he turned from his departing customers. "The very man I wanted to see." "That accounts for my coming here instead of keeping on to the carcel." "My thoughts attracted you/' "And why did you want to see me?" "I have a letter a message and some money for you. The money is to be in trust for but I will give you the letter and that will explain." Jose took the letter and opening it, read as follows : "My Friend : I would have called to see you, but events have happened which compel me to leave the city very suddenly. On ac- count of my defense of the young American, the authorities, who already distrusted me, have resolved on my arrest. I go from here tho enemy of despotism, which is personated in Santa Anna, and am resolved to never submit to it. I leave in the hands of the Monte Pio thirty-eight and a half pesos, which is the balance of Senor Raymond's winnings, after using what was required to get the fellow Vasquez out of the way. T used a little artifice and fifty-one and a ha'^f pesos to induce him to leave. It is pretty certain he will not 1)0 soen around town agnin shortly. You will doubtless be glad T did not give him the whole ninety. I hope you have told Father Ignacio all, and that he has taken steps for the release of that brave young fellow. The only char ere against him will be his nationality, and the good father can account for his presence in town. "Your friend, Manuel Ruiz." .Jose was so glad that Ruiz had saved a portion of the money, and had disposed of Vasquez, that he forgot all about the medal in the showcase. He directed the Monte Pio to retain the amount mentioned in Ruiz's letter and arid it to the proceeds from the pony and saddle, for the credit of Guy Raymond. The major domo had scarcely left the Monte Pio's when a Mexi- 118 GUY RAYMOND. can, dressed as a ranchero, rode up to the door, dismounted and entered. The proprietor, who had just commenced to cast up the amount of Senor Raymond's credit, looked up and asked the new- comer what was wanted. "I want to redeem my spurs," he replied, showing a ticket. After glancing at the bit of pasteboard, the other took down a pair of spurs, whose huge rowells were out of all proportion. "So, Pedro, you have made a raise." "Si, senor, I won twenty pesos at the cock fight." "Better get that handsome sash, now you have the money." "What is the price of this medal, with the white beads?" asked Pedro. "That? Let me see; you can have it at a bargain. I bought it from one of the mozos who came with Father Ignacio from the Rio Grande. Take it for four pesos." "Es demasiado," remonstrated Pedro. "Too much! It is worth seven." "I will give you twenty reals for it." "You are a good customer, Pedro. Take the medal, if I lose by it. But where are you going, dressed like a ranchero? On more busi- ness for the Colonel?" "I have a pretty dangerous errand before me. This disguise is furnished by the Colonel. The sight of that medal made me think it well to go under the 'protection of our good mother. I will get it blessed and wear it on my trip." "You are right, Pedro. The Blessed Virgin never deserts those who appeal to her for protection. The times are getting dangerous and it is well to be prudent." "Adios, senor." "Adios, Pedro." "Only twelve reals profit on that medal," mused the Monte Pio, as he watched Pedro secure- his lariat to his saddle, mount his pony and ride away. * * * * When Guy was startled from his reverie by Linda's touch he was pleased, but not surprised, to find that the jailer's daughter and the girl he had danced with the night before were one and the same person. She was not at all abashed when she encountered the look of the young prisoner. Her face wore an engaging expression, illum- ined by a quiet smile, characteristic of the sisterhood of her race, that meant half to encourage, half to pity a misfortune which she would fain remove. GUY EAYMOND. 119 "Does the senor remember me?" "I could not fail to remember the only woman I have spoken to in Bexar." She answered him with a. smile. "So, you are Linda." "My father has been telling you my name," she said, looking into his eyes. "I am afraid you found him very rude." "No, he amused me. He has been quite good to me. You see, he has allowed me the liberty of this court. Perhaps I owe this favor partly to you?" She only smiled. "My father worships money. You must not let him impose on you, for he will want you to pay for everything he does for you. If you have .much money do not let him know it." "You are very kind, Linda, to take this interest in a stranger." "It is a part of our religion, senor. The men of our people are so cruel, but God has made our women with tender hearts." "Do you live here, inside this carcel?" "Si, senor." "Are you not lonely here.?" "Sometimes; but when I am I can go to the Alameda in the evening. I go to mass every morning, and now and then I enjoy a dance at the Cabeza de Toro." What a difference there is in ideas of the proprieties when viewed from the standpoint of race custom, thought Guy. Here is a pretty, sympathetic, religious girl who could attend festivities without im- pairing her good name, which the Puritan mind would condemn as a debauch, and which even the license of a more liberal social code of his people would pronounce immoral, held, as they were, under the shadow of a place devoted to the demoralizing vice of gaming. But here race characteristics intervene to extenuate practices whose evil tendencies are merely co-extensive with actual effects produced on race morals, and to point to the difference between customs in- grained in a peculiar civilization and habits confined to the more vicious and disreputable haunts of a more enlightened and progressive population. Gambling among Mexicans is only a degree less natural than is dancing, and with them dancing is one of the necessities of a contented existence. "And does not the padre object to your going to the Cabeza de Toro one day, and to mass the next?" "Why should he ? One must dance." "You think, then, that dancing is as necessary as praying?" 120 GUY EAYMOND. "I go to San Fernando in the morning for mass, and you know, senor, the bailes and fandangos are at night," "Are you going to dance tonight, Linda?" "No, senor. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Holy Eosary." "Then it is not right to dance on the eve of this feast?" "It is not if I go to confession; and I must confess this after- noon. After confession I must be very quiet and think of nothing but my communion in the morning." "You are a good girl, Linda; I can hardly believe that you are Bonito's daughter." "He says I am; but sometimes I doubt it, especially when he tries to make me promise to marry the monte pio." "The monte pio?" "Si,- senor. He lives on the plaza, and he is very rich." "And why won't you marry him?" "He is old enough to be my father." "But he is so rich." "I could not love him, senor; and with all his riches, he made his first wife work like a peon, and he is ugly and " "Then I would not marry him, Linda." A loud knocking at the door interrupted them and Linda went for her father, who had already retired for his siesta. When, after a lapse of a few moments, that worthy appeared, the knocking had been repeated several times. He was terribly cross at having been disturbed and jowered and grumbled as he crossed the court: "A poor devil can't take a siesta." "Tonto!" he continued, on a fresh recurrence of the summons, "can't you wait until a fellow can get to the door? It is a dog's life at best; run my legs off, and after all it will be some one to ask after that pajarro." "Quien es ?" he shouted, as he half introduced the key in the lock. "Yo, Jose." "Jose! Jose!" and Bonito contemptuously made his voice still more effiminate. Then he replied to the candidate for admittance: "No conozco, yo, Jose Jose diablo?" "Jose, el major domo," suggested Linda. "Who told you to answer?" asked Bonito between his teeth. "You are putting on airs before this pajarro Americano." "What do you want here?" he shouted, with the key still untun in the lock. "El padre Ignacio sent me to see you." "See me?" GUY RAYMOND. 121 "Si, senor; on business." The key shot back the bolt, the heavy door slowly swung, and Jose was in the court. Without noticing the jailer, he passed quickly over to Guy and saluted him warmly. "That is fine business with me," said Bonito, locking the door and casting a savage look at the two. "It seems like a whole week since last night," said Jose. He soon posted Guy on all that had transpired outside the carcel as a sequel to their misadventure. Bonito interrupted them so often with his growling and demands to know Jose's business that Guy used a little artifice to silence him. He said to Jose: "I want you to go to the monte pio and get me some money. I owe my friend, the jailer, a small sum and must pay him." The change in Bonito's face was instantaneous and he subsided at once when Jose signified his willingness to comply. Guy regained his elasticity of spirits when he became informed of the service which Ruiz had rendered him, and regretted the neces- sity that forced his benefactor to leave the city. When Jose had exhausted every other topic, he remembered the medal he had seen in the show-case. "I am certain I saw the medal which your Indian girl gave you, senor. It was lying snugly in the show-case at the monte pio's, but I was so full of joy to know that all of your winnings did not go to the villian Vasquez that I forgot to ask who had pawned it, or sold it, rather, for the monte pio has it for sale." "Be sure, Jose, to tell him to keep it for me at any price." "That shows you are a poor trader. I will not let him know that you, or any one, places any value on it. I will price it with much indifference, beat him down afterwards on the amount he will ask, and then take it very reluctantly. Senor, you don't know the monte pio." "Well, at all events, secure it." Jose promised to see after the medal at once, to execute Guy's directions about the money, and then hasten to inform his master that he had discovered the young American. Guy added a request that he procure for him, from the monte pio, one or more books, provided he had any, as reading or study would help pass away the time. "If Linda would go with me, she could bring you the money and the book, while I go to inform Father Ignacio." 122 GUY EAYMOND. Linda was quite willing to act on Jose's suggestion, and going for her rebosa, accompanied him out into the street. "You are the worst prisoner I ever had." "How so, Bonito?" "It is lock and unlock, open and shut, run here and run there. A person can't be still a minute. If this keeps up I will get so thin that I won't be able to keep my clothes on, and I will wear out a pair of slippers a week. The two reals for your meals that I don't furnish and the three you are to pay me (that makes five) will not make up for the damages outside of my loss of flesh. Do you think the monte pio will send the money ?" "No doubt of it. But see here, Mr. Bonito, you are raising on me. The price I was to pay for walking out here was to be two reals, instead of three. But we won't quarrel about one real. My talk with Linda is worth the extra one." "I will bet she said nonsense enough. Senor Pajarro your name will slip my memory ' "Eaymond." "Eaymondo ?" "That is good enough. Perhaps you will remember that better." "Bueno; but what was I going to say? Was it about the four reals you are to pay me?" "Come now, Bonito. You raised it to three a while ago; now you've got it to four. It was about Linda you were going to speak. You were saying she spoke nonsense." "Ah, si, me acuerdo. It. was not about the five reals. It was about Linda. Si, senor, about Linda L-i-n-d-a. She was to return with the money f-i-v-e reals yes, five ; it was not six, was it, senor ? You very properly corrected me when I said six; I will not forget again." "Your memory is so treacherous, old fellow, that I fear for your sanity." "My memory sometimes fails me, Senor Raymondo; but never about money. You remember I said it was only six. Linda stays long. Old and fat as I am, I could have been back before this. If the monte pio was twenty years younger and better looking, I would be suspicious that she was dilly-dallying in his shop. But no such good luck. The tonta has not sense enough to marry him, when he is c-r-a-z-y for her and r-i-c-h." When Bonito pronounced the word "rich" he shut one eye tightly and ran out his great tongue in the most comical manner, to better convey his conception of the plethoric state of the monte pio's ex- GUY RAYMOND. 123 checquer. A light tap at the door was sufficient to rouse the activities of the grasping old jailer who, on the qui vive for the sounds of Linda's coming, lost no time in admitting her. She handed to Guy a few pieces of silver, which act was closely watched by her father. "Bonito, I had better settle with you before you raise the figures much higher. Shall I pay you those seven reals ?" "Seven, senor! Was it seven? Not eight although it might have been ; but, senor, you are a man of honor ; I leave it to you." Guy tossed him a peso. "It was eight, sure enough ! I said, senor, that my memory was always good about mone} r ." He dropped the piece into his pocket and shuffled off to his room, doubtless to deposit it with his hoarded treasure. "Here is a notebook and pencil which Senor Jose sent you/' said Linda. "Had the monte pio no books?" "Here are two old ones he bought long ago, and as they are old and damaged he said the charge for them would be very small." As she spoke she took from beneath her rebosa two delapidated volumes and handed them to her companion. The back of the first was gone. He turned the fly leaf and read, in his own handwriting : "Guy Raymond." It was his Virgil ! A film passed over his pupils, as he read the name and recognized his book, until the letters faded and left the pa;?e a blank. His knees grew weak; he sank clown upon the bench and leaned against the prison wall. The other volume was clutched in his fingers, still unnoticed when his sight grew clear and the letters grew plain again: "Guy Raymond." He laid down the book. Before he raised the lid of the other, his eye caught the title upon the back: "AGE OF REASON." Upon the flyleaf of this he read the name : "Paul Raymond" written in the bold hand of his father. How strange! These two volumes had found their way to him, to use all their mute eloquence, to rouse from the recesses of his bosom the memories of a happy past, and to paint, in vivid colors, its terrible finale. The whole panorama passed before him : the spring, the grove, the murmuring current, the dead panther and the nearly fatal shot, the smoking ruin and his .captivity. These silent witnesses of the tragedy, these sad reminders 124 GUY RAYMOND. of a thousand tender recollections, that linked successively the rec- ords of his young life,, had escaped destruction to be rescued in muti- lated form by alien hands. "Oh, Stella! Stella! Can it be that you survive? If I had but Rolla with me now to give a whine of sympathy!" He laid the second book down by its companion, and realized that Linda was watching him with great solicitude depicted in her countenance. CHAPTER XVIII. It was late in the afternoon before Father Ignacio returned from the cathedral. Without the assistance of Jose he had to devote more of his time to the arrangements and changes he had contemplated making in the decorations of the grand altar; and when the duties in this direction had been discharged he had to attend to the spir- itual wants of those of his people who claimed him for confessor. These were not a few, and by the time the row of kneeling figures who, enveloped in their flowing rebosas, lined his side of the church had told their faults and the last shriven penitent had issued from the great front portals the sun was looking red and dull from the tops of the western hills. The good man had often thought of his young American friend during his varied occupation of the day and wondered what his way- ward major domo was doing to discover him. His own time was so nearly filled that he could not often carry out his own wishes, be- cause to do so would encroach upon some duty he owed to his sacred office. But for this he would have sallied forth in quest of Guy when he discovered he had not slept in the room assigned to him. He was met by his major domo as he was about to issue from the closure of the church. "Well, Jose, what news?" "Good news, and bad news, Father." "You found him ?" "In the carcel." "Arrested by the patrol ?" "By the patrol. It appears that a fellow accused him of killing his brother and taking the horse his brother was riding; but Senor Raymond was arrested for fighting and whipping his accuser. His being an American is also, perhaps, against him." "I will write a note to the Colonel and maybe we can get him out tonight," said Father Ignacio, in a half meditative jonn. as he walked away towards his house. GUY BAYMOXD. 125 "Were you unwell just now, senor?" asked Linda, when Guy had laid down the volume, in which was written the name of his father. "Not unwell, Linda. Those books you brought me were mine, years ago. My name is writ-ten in this, my father's name in that. SOP. look for yourself." , She looked as requested. "That is my name. I wrote it there, myself. It is my Virgil, a hook I studied when I was learning a language from which your own beautiful tongue has been largely drawn. These books made me re- member happy days days that never can return." "Jose spoke of your Indian girl, who gave you a medal. Was she with you in those happy days?" "No, Linda, The great sorrow of my life, the time which ended those happy days, was the cause of my meeting the Indian girl of whom Jose spoke. Her tribe took me captive and but for Laoni this body of mine would have been burned to cindeis on a fire already lighted for ray destruction/ 5 "Laoni. Was that her name?" "Yes, the dnuirhter of the Lipan chief." "She saved your life?" "She did." "She must have loved you. Was she good and pretty? All Indian women I have seen wore anything but good looking." "Laoni was an exception. She bad none of the savage in her nature. No truer heart ever beat than hers. Her form was perfect, her features intelligent and regular and her step elastic. Unfor- tunately, she loved me too well ; but she would not leave her father to escape with me." Bonito here called for Linda, in a half angry tone, and she left her companion to himself. Guy examined the notebook which Jose had sent him and dis- covered it to be a very plain affair, containing about twenty leaves of blank paper. His object in sending for it was to amuse himself by writing, in the event that be should be kept in confinement for a number of days. He turned to the first page to record the date of his arrival in the city, when he discovered that his pencil was a new one and had never been sharpened. Having no knife, he ap- pro; ir-hed Bonito's door and called : "Bonito !" That individual was fussing with Linda, who appeared at the door, with her rebosa thrown over her head and shoulders, her father rUY following. The daughter had requested him to let her out that she might go to confession, and he was complaining at being disturbed. "If this Kaymondo would keep in his cell I could leave the corridor open and you could confess fifty times a day and not disturb me once." "Well then, Bonito," said Guy, who had been hitherto unobserved by the grumbler, "I will remain in my cell tomorrow and perhaps you will miss the money which I would have to pay if I used the privilege of the court." The jailor was so well caught that he made his way doggedly and silent to dismiss his daughter. On returning from the door, he approached close to Guy and, in nn Apologetic undertone, assured him that no one could comprehend 'how vexatious was Linda at times and that he must not mind the hasty words used by him when out of humor. "I'll not mention it again, Bonito, if you will lend me your knife to sharpen this pencil." "Prisoners have no business with knives. After sharpening the pencil, you could cut my throat," said the old fellow, drawing from his pocket and opening a long-bladed knife. "You are a cunning pajarro. 1 will cut your pencil for you." So saying Bonito took the pencil and surprised the other by the dexterity he used in fashioning a point. "Thank you," said Guy, as the pencil was handed to him. "Yon have sharpened pencils before. But you forget that I am on parole to not attempt to escape; and therefore,, your throat would be safe if I had a dozen knives." "Ah! Paroles are good enough to talk about; but they are con- tinually broken." "By Mexicans, perhaps." "By all nations. I have seen pirates keep their paroles, in intercourse with pirates. Lafitte had honor, but it was the honor to be found among thieves. Paroles are binding as long as it is less dangerous to observe than to break them. Senor Raymondo is young yet." "Were you acquainted with Lafitte ?" "It would not help you to know it. Sometimes people ask too many questions." The jailer shuffled off to his den as he said this and Guy, turning to his bench, seated himself to try his pencil. The means of writing had not been within his reach since the distraction of his home. He began to write on the first page : "Arrived in San Antonio October, 1835. Escaped from the GUY RAYMOND. 127 Lipan village, on the San Saba, four days before. The night before entering the town I camped with, a party on the San Geronimo creek. The party conHsfcd of Father Ignacio of the Ca- thedral of San Fernando, his major doino and two inozos leading pack-mules. Also with the party was a Senor Gonzales, who was evi- dently a man of some rank. The latter probably used an assumed name. On this creek 1 must have lost my medal. From Jose's de- scription of a, medal in ihe pawn broker's ii must be the one I lost. Owing to a difficulty I had at Ihe Hull's Head (Cabeza de Toro) T \vas put in this prison ihe night of the same day of mv arrival in the town. The night of my arrest I was betting at monte and had singular luck, coining out winner ninety Mexican dollars (pesos). Notwithstanding my success it may be my last indulgence in gam- bling. 'Bonito' is the name of my jailer. Tie is an oddity. Gross, flabby and rotund, he is a mere animal. His memory is very elastic whore particular amounts of change are involved. The old villain went from one real to seven, as the charge for my remaining in the court of the prison during the day. When I tossed him eight, he took the entire amount. Linda bears no resemblance to him. One would never suspect the close relationship of father and daughter. The old man has not given her many advantages; yet how well she speaks! Bonito uses very good language, however. I must tell Jose to bring Rolla, if I stay here, lie must miss me! Poor dog! He has been faithful through all our adventures. Adventures! We had a plenty the last (wo \cars. The first opportunity I intend to write the story of my captivity. It would be interesting reading. But I will not be content to do anything until I can know of Stella's fate. I wonder what ever become of Mr. Tr As Guy reached this far with his scribbling, Bonito passed to the corridor and admitted his daughter, who had returned from her duty at the church. She hastened over to the young American and, with one of her pleasant smiles, informed him that she had just left Father Ignacio and Jose in consultation in front of San Fernando and that she was quite sure they were talking about him and the chances for his release. Her father cut short their interview by reminding her that duties unperformed awaited her indoors, and if she gossiped much longer he would have to go without supper. It had grown so late that Guy did not return to his writing, but walked up and down Ihe court for exercise, thinking about a thousand and one things bonrim: on his past, present and future. A strange fate seemed to be in pursuit, of him ever since Ihe eventful Sunday on the Salado. Vet, when the heavy hand of wrong had crowded him to the verge 128 GUY EAYMOND. of disaster, the genius of pity had waved back the oppressor and developed saving influences to shield and .protect him. When bloody and disfigured from his wounded scalp the savage heart of Chicha softened. The renegade Pedro had counselled him to turn Lipan for safety. Laoni's was the crowning favor, and her subsequent devotion to his interests was second only to the love she bore her father. The good priest and Jose were now his friends of a few hours, while the chivalry of Ruiz had made him an ally simultaneous with an intro- duction. Old Bonito broke up his meditations. "Senor Eaymondo must go to his cell. It is time for the sentinel to take his post in the court. Here is a blanket and a pillow that rattle-brained girl said I must bring for you. I furnish this and not a quartilla of pay do I get for it not a quartilla, senor." Guy followed him., not heeding his gabble. Once in his cell, he prepared his bed and had just laid himself down, when the door was opened, disclosing Bonito with a lighted candle. "Here is a piece of candle that will last you for an hour or so, and here are the books you left on the bench." "Thanks, Bonito." "Don't thank Bonito. If she had her way a prison would be a palace, and prisoners would be treated like princes. Good night, senor." "Good night, Bonito." The tramp of the relief was heard in the corridor as the jailer gained the court and, a minute more, a sentinel was walking the usual post, Bonito hung the lantern over his door, then disappeared within, muttering his satisfaction that the day's duties were over. The sentinel crossed to the bench that Guy had occupied, picked up something, examined it for a moment, then slipped it in his pocket. It was the notebook in which Guy had been writing. The light in the cell, struggling through the high, narrow window until a late hour told that the prisoner was making the most of his piece of candle. Its flame, though feeble to illumine, possessed giant power to dispel the oppressiveness of solitude in confinement. With light, books are appreciable companions ; they speak to our reason ; they supply the motive power to thought to bear us away on the wings of speculation to the transcendant fields of the conceptual or the ideal world. Guy's library was limited, but his two books wore old friends. With these we will leave him to commune, until til IP flickering light will linvo warned him that he must seek solace from a slumber now easier to woo through Linda's thoughtfulness. GUY 1 1 AY MONO. 129 CHAPTER XIX. The Feast of the Holy Eosary was destined to be brig] it' and sunny. The chime of San Fernando pealed a merry melody as the hour arrived to summons the faithful to the grand high mass, which was to be offered in honor of the day. The crowd at the entrance to the cathedral grounds presented a conglomerate of the population. The scarlet sash of the young swell and the gaudy uniform of the military mingled with the plainer dross of tlio average oiti/on, these coufrasi- ing wiih the dirt and rags of the proletariat, and the slouch y garment of tlio barofooted common soldiery. A redeeming feature of the scene \VMS the presence of a mo\ing line of female passers who, half enveloped in rebosas of every hue, moved gracefully through the crowd io ihe grand porlal of Hie edifice. The-e latter disclosed features vary- ing from those bordering on Hie pure Indian to the more delicate 1 types which approached nearer to the Castillian. The throng had parted to let them pass and manv a robosa was more tightly drawn, to evade the rude inspection of the crowd, or the bra/en stare of a group of voting bloods who, standing near the gateway, indulged in a r"\ iew of those who eniercd. "Here comes the princess/ 5 said one of the party. "She moves like one." 1 said another. "Don Juan spoiled her bv an American education,'' said the first. speaker. -Mow so, Sancho?" "She has little use, for "Mexicans and has, doubtless, lost her heart- in (he United State-," replied Sancho. As Sancho spoke, the lady, who had been the subject of their remarks, swept by them with a nod of recognition, and passed on into the church. "A beauty, and no mistake! She has a. proud look and a foreign air that (ells plainlv she has not, passed all her davs in Bexar. What is her name, Sancho ?" "Sciiorita Beatrice Xavarro. Tim younger daughter of Don Juan arro, a man of prominence IH-IV. His elder danghtrr was the widow of Perez, now (he wife of an American." our princess been back from school long?" "But a twelvemonth, and she already has broken the hearts of (wo suit ''Say you so? Who, pray, are the unfortunates?" 130 GUY RAYMOND. "Captain Castanado, the first; Manuel Ruiz, the second victim." "Ruiz ! He is the one who so recently disappeared ?" "The same. He is a traitor to Mexico, and I trace his treason to this girl's American proclivities. I tell you, she is puro Gringo. Her sister's husband is a Gringo and poor Don Juan, their father, is greatly under their influence." As Sancho ceased speaking, a confusion in the crowd attracted the attention of the group around him. The approach of four men, bearing a litter, proved to be the cause of the commotion, while a closer inspection disclosed that they bore a human form, covered with a coarse cloth from the head to the waist. The bearers set their burden down near the edge of the acequia, as if to rest. "What have you here, friends?" asked Sancho. "We do not know, senor. We are taking the body to the office of the Alcalde. Sancho lifted the cloth from the face of the dead, and was startled to discover the rigid features of A'asquez, his hair and cloth- ing wet and dripping, while a ghastly cut laid open his throat from ear to ear. "For Dios !" he exclaimed. "It is Vasquez, the fellow who used to hang around the Cabeza de Toro." "The very fellow," said one of the litter bearers. "I recognize him now since you have named him. The last time I saw him he was with Manuel Ruiz, coming out of the monte pio's." "That is important to remember/' said Sancho. "But where did you find the body?" "By the old mill, senor, in the eddy between the rapids." The presence of th'e ghastly spectacle added to the motley throng which now blocked the walk and prevented ingress to the cathedral, whence issued the loud tones of the organ, indicating the commence- ment of the service. A way was finally made for the litter bearers, who resumed their burden and proceeded on thir way. The crowd receded from the gateway and perceptihlv thinned as the complement of proletarians furnished an escort for the murdered Yastpiez, while ihe most respectable element either entered the church or lingered a while before following their inclinations as to immediate points of destination. "Are you going in to mass, Sancho?" asked one of his com- panions, who, alone of the late group, still lingered near him. "No, Carlos. I believe I will follow thai corpse. I feel a singular interest in this murder; yet, to tell the truth, 1 cannot tell why." GUY RAYMOND. l;)l "Well then, adios. You may turn detective; but as for me, I am going in to see how the princess looks at prayers/" "Like other women, doubtless, unless it be to eyes whose owner is deeply enamored, like poor Castanado, or the traitor, Ruiz." "Bueno ! Amigo, mio. Adios, hasta la tarde." The two friends parted. The one followed the litter, now well up the street; the other entered the church, now crowded by the kneeling or seated figures of the congregation. The old church would have presented a scene at once novel and weird, to the eye of a si ranger. The high, dark walls reflected none of the struggling light from the narrow openings, and the moon-like glow which fell in mellow waves from the ample dome lent a ghostly appearance to objects below, while deep shades rested in the angles of the trans- eept. The tall tapers upon the grand altar illuminated the western extension with an unsteady light that caused shadows to dance across the surface of a mammoth painting of the crucifixion, which extended from wall to wall, and from the tabernacle to the high triple window overlooking it. The solemn chant of the Kyre Klison lent, its influ- ence to weave a magic charm in an already impressive scene. MS the choir responded to the celebrant who, with outstretched arms, was invoking the descent of the man-Clod to the tcrrestial altar. The congregation did not, appeal- in svmpathv with the sublime conception mv >lved in the august sacrifice, for there was a calmness and notable absence of devotion in their facial expressions which indicated me- chanical performance of exercises, ingrained into their natures by the accidents of birth and i raining. 'The entrance of two persons at I lie conclusion of the Kvro 'Klison caused the turning of manv heads lo get a look at the late comers, who, seemingly not satisfied with icinute positions, were pushing their way nearer to the altar. One of them, a youth just, entered into manhood, rather hesitated to obey the girl companion, but her significant motions decided him to follow her th rough the crowd of kneeling worshipers. The ^irl, a brunette, seemed perfectly at ease as she led the way to a position which she e\iiletitly had aimed to occupy. She knelt at once and. crossing her- self, arranged her rebos;i, then looked complacently around the church. Her companion, taking a place close at. hand, leaned grace- full v against the northern wall. He took in the situation with a look of blended interest and curiosity. His eye kindled with intelligence as he comprehended, first, the words of the Gloria, then the (Vedo, from the choir, followed, in the progress of the mass, by the chanting of tin- hiter Nosier by the celebrant. (Juy for it was he owed his jo master languages from his proficiency in the Latin. The 132 GUY RAYMOND. first time he had ever witnessed a celebration of the mass, yet he found he was able to comprehend the drift of its cermonies. In this fact he recognized the splendid tact of the Church of Rome in adopt- ing a universal and unchanging language as a fundamental requisite for the establishment of a universal faith. He was pursuing this train of thought in oblivion to the personnel of the congregation, feeling his own superiority to these unread and credulous votaries of a traditional religion, when a lady, who had been kneeling near, arose and turned to leave the church. As her face became revealed, it appeared to Guy to be very beautiful, and when she passed close by him, their eyes met for an instant. It was but for an instant; yet both received a shock from the encountering glances. In the lady's case it might have been from surprise; with the gentleman it was doubtless surprise, reinforced by ill-concealed admiration. The latter had not imagined that within the bounds of Bexar there dwelt so fair a woman. It is to be presumed that, next to an apparition, the unexpected presence of the handsome youth, with blonde complexion and unmistakeable Anglo-Saxon lineage, would most 1 surprise the lady. Carlos had signified his curiosity to witness her at prayers, while Sancho might turn detective. She was the "princess" of their conversation and now he had seen her at her devotions. Carlos was on the opposite side of the church when Beatrice Navarro rose to leave. He had, been closely watching her and had observed the ex- changed glances between Guy and the beauty. The eyes of the two men met. Those of Carlos expressed defiance. Guy turned to follow with a last look the retreating form, then sought the eyes across the way, which had so plainly indicated disapprobation. They were still fixed upon him and the menace of their expression was unmistak- able. He thought perhaps he had aroused the ire of a jealous lover, and simply smiled in answer to all the look might mean. The remainder of the mass apparently claimed his attention, as had done the earlier exercises, but a lovely face was pictured in conjunction with every object mirrored in his vision. His thoughts recurred but once to the jealous lover, and coincident with the thought he glanced in his direction, but Carlos had disappeared. He concluded to whisper to Linda, whom he had accompanied to church, and make inquiry about the lady whose beauty had so impressed him, but on turning: to carry out his intention, he found that she, too, was missinjr. He felt like taking himself oft 3 at this discovery. The appearance of Father Ignacio, however, as he left the chancel to ascend to the pulpit, altered his mind, and he resigned himself to the hearing of a Spanish sermon. GUY EAYMOND. 133 The good father took for his text, "He Hint will not hear the church, let him be to you a heathen and a publican." From the consideration of this command he drifted to the special injunction of the church to practice the devotions peculiar to the uses of the Eosary, and reminded the faithful of the special indul- gences which had been from time to time granted by the sovereign pontiff to those who had frequent recourse to means so potent for salvation. The father was a llnenl speaker, but his audience was -'ntiv apathetic-, (luy himself, interested from the sheer novelty of the points of faith discussed, observed the listlessncss of the con- gregation and concluded it was due to the frequency of these feast- day discourses about a religion rendered too familiar by an unchang- ing routine which offered no room for animal excitement or emotional (lisplav. He sauntered out of the place when the congregation had been dismissed, intending to wait' at the gate for the priest, who must out at the front on his way home. He made his way through th-- crowd of women, of whose sex four-fifths of the attendants were composed, and reached the open air in time to see Jose just' leaving the gate. He was about to call to him, when a touch upon his shoulder caused him. to turn, and he saw Linda by his side. "Ah, runaway!" he exclaimed, "why did yon leave me among all these people?" "I thought sen or could take care of himself anywhere, and surely, in fiievide fore leaving the monte pio's Guy questioned him about the medal, taking down the n;ime of the man who had purchased it. From the description he was positive the medal sold was Laoni's gift and mentally concluded that it was lost to him, probably forever. bhey were crossing Hie pla/a Guy remembered his promise. mad' the dav before, to visit, Linda, and suggested that Jose accom- pany him to tiie cared. Tim latter, nothing lothe, consented, and in a short, time " "Now you are getting serious. I will find out your secret.'" "F am not serious," insisted Guy, endeavoring to dispd a blue that, had settled on his face. 'Now, listen and I will tell you all about it," said Linda, drawiiig chair closer to her visitor. "When I went to mass I took with me a beautiful rosary io re blessed and which I intended to give to a friend. You saw me it up ai 1 the blessing of the rosaries. Well, who should I see eave the church, but the very person I wished to give it to. Yester- day was her birthday and I did not wish the day to pass without putting the present in her hands. You know, senor, if one has a nrtlulay present to give it destroys half the pleasure to not give >n the very day. I knew that I would have no time to see her mass as T had to return home, having other plans for the 'rnoon. So what could T do but follow her from the church?" Linda, paused and looked into the other's face. 146 GUY EAYMOND. "And you gave her the beads ?" "I gave her the beads." "Well "I've told you all." "There is something behind, else you would not have said what you did yesterday in front of San Fernando." "I walked home with Beatrice." "Beatrice ! Is that the name of the lady ?" "Beatrice Navarro." "I was struck with her beauty." "She was impressed with your appearance." "She saw me then?" "As if you did not know it!" "How so?" "Did not your eyes meet?" "She must have told you." "And you fairly blushed under her look." " 'Twas she whose color heightened. I'd swear it by all your saints." "In whom you don't believe." "Then by my honor." "Then you both turned red. "Pis plain to me, senor love at first sight/ "I am not in love with Miss Navarro. She is very beautiful and moves with exceeding grace. Possibly I am too easily impressed by a beautiful woman, seen for the first time, and may have thrown my thoughts into my looks whon I encountered Miss Navarre's glance. But as for love why, Linda, love is deep rooted. It has a germ which must be nursed to life by a glow that springs from acquaint- ance and association, from sympathies that flow out of congenialities of character and tastes. Eeal love can be no more called into exist- ence in a moment than can an oak arrive at its giant size without being first nursed to life by heat and moisture from its acoi prison. No no Linda, I am not in love." "If you deny it another time I will believe you are in love. Bi senor, I am really sorry- Linda heaved a little sigh, took up a corner of her apron an began to twist it. "What makes you sorry, Linda?" "That you eaiinol love Beatrice." "I said, 'I run not in love." "Then there are hopes." GUY RAYMOND. 147 "Hopes?" "That you will love her on better acquaintance." "Perhaps she will not care for my love." "But she will." "How can Linda know?" "You have interested her, and I believe that acquaintance will do the rest. Then, you would make such a handsome pair." "I have interested her ?" "I told her of your life -as much as I had it from your lips." "Why Linda!" "Did I do wrong?" "No but "But what?" "Tell me all she said." " ? Tis strange you are so interested, since you are not in love!" "Interest is all interest begets interest." "It then needs not to be warmed into life like love?" "By no means." "She said you were very handsome and but I should not tell you all." "Handsome! She was blinded by her interest." "Only love is blind." "True interest is oftener critical." "Then you must be handsome; for as love grows slowly like the on '<, she could not love at once and therefore was not blind through lovp. I should hale to Imve my lover's love keep pace with such a growth, for wo would he old and weak before our loves grew strong." "It was but a comparison I made. A year may ripen interest inro love. A few months in our maturer life may bring many changes, whilo in a sapling oak no great increase might be apparent ;ifVer years of growth." I "You will not renounce the germ, senor?" "No, the germ must exist." "But, once started, you admit the growth is very fast." "That depends on the amount of association." "Then go to see my friend tomorrow." Jose and Bonito here made their appearance, preceded by a dried- weazen-faced specimen of humanity, who had a scroll of paper er his arm and a huge quill pen behind his ear. "Sonor Raymondo has not forgotten the carcel, I see. It has been e since you lofl. Can't you manage to get into some devil- Mi;if \vc can grant you the privilege of the court?" 148 GUY RAYMOND. "For eight reals a day ? Ah, Bonito ! You want to fleece me again." "It was your liberality, senor; you forced it on me. I claimed but' seven. This is the notary, senor. Talk about fleecing! He knows the art to perfection. He charged me twenty reals for poking his nose into my room and fixing up some papers for me. I would have gladly done half the work for twice the money. Think of the drudgery I do, and what miserable pay !" "I am pleased to know you, senor/ 7 said the little man, in response to this queer introduction. "If it should please your worship to have any business done in my line, I can he found in hours at my office, Calle Soledad cerca la esquina de la plaza." The notary obsequiously bowed himself out. "Call on him, senor, if you want to get fleeced. Twenty reals for a half hour's time ! Es un puro ladron," growled Bonito as he closed the outer door with considerable emphasis. As Guy and Jose were about to leave, the door leading to the little garden opened and a female figure entered enveloped in a dark rebosa. She hesitated in apparent surprise as she beheld the two men, her hand still retaining its hold on the door fastening as if doubtful whether to advance or retreat. The party in the room had turned their attention to the new arrival simultaneously with her entrance. "Buenas dias, Josef a, T thought yon had given up coming. This is nine o'clock with two hours added on," said Linda, advancing to meet the lady. "I am late, I know. 1 see you have company. A stranger? Jose, of course, I know." Jose made her a respectful salutation. "Senor Raymond, I present to you my friend, Senorita Jos( de la Torre, a neice of Father Ignacio." "It gives me additional pleasure to meet I he lady, since YOU tell me the relationship existing between her and the croorl father," said Guy. Josefa bowed stiffly, while her countenance assumed a proud smile in recognition of the complimentary allusion to her uncle. She was tall and slender, and moved with dignity across the room to deposit her removed wrap upon a lounge. Her large, black, spiritual PVPF took in (Iiiy Raymond nt a glance, while her quick perception placed an estimate on his appearance prior to debating in her mind ilio possible impression she was making. Josefa's oy suited her long, narrow fact' and well defined features. She GUY RAYMOND. 149 not ugly. Her face could be very attractive in certain moods of mental activity, but its general expression was calculated to put one on guard. Linda's first callers soon took their departure, leaving her alone with the Senorita de la Torre. CHAPTER XXII. The even temperature of the first autumnal month scarcely marked a change in the sunny days and cool, refreshing nights which came and went since the buds of springtime first swelled to repletion, then burst into vernal life and clothed the river valley in soft, merging shades or handsome contrasts. Nature seemed loth to undo the work of months and the lazy weather lingered to confirm, by its enervating influence, the indolent population in the -extreme of leth- argy. Even the equinox had failed to lend its wonted animation to the elemental forces, and here was October still aping her summer sister. June, as if old Boreas, concealed within his northern haunts, was not merely waiting a signal to tear aside the veil and expose the masquerade. But the ides of I he dissembling month were not to come and go in balmy sunshine or pass their languid course, per- fumed by incense from the lap of summer. The norther. came in fitful gusts, raising clouds of lime dust and sending the light debris of tho town in eccentric whirls through the narrow streets and across the plazas. The oxen of the loaded wood carts lowered their tethered heads and huddled from the wind. The donkeys brayed bniraih their piles of hay, and turned their tails towards the st<>nn of wind and dust. The teamsters and burro drivers sworn many a Spanish oath, as tangled teams and carts, or tufts of buy, flying on the wings of tho wind, called forth an anathema. Men hur- ried filnng the streets to the protection of house or warmer clothing. A few women, who issued from the door of San Fernando, drew their reho discredit the existence of so foul a blot on this fair creation know that it is not true." "Senor Raymond, I will not let you come here if you abuse my religion. I am going to get Father Ignacio to give you a talking." "Abuse it! I was defending those who truly believe." "It was I, Linda. IM1 bear all the blame. My uncle and myself have had many a hard fought battle. He once tried to exorcise me, thinking I was possessed." "How did he go about it? Is there a stereotyped incantation to be used on such occasions?" "Ha, ha!" laughed Josol'a; "I'll not tell you. Linda, I must bo going. ' Mother is afraid for me to be out long since the stampede." "Perhaps I had bettor soo you home for protection," said Guy. "It is not on account of my tender years that her anxiety is aroused. She. has boon ill, and her nerves are weak." Linda showed them out through the garden. Many of her plants were covered to ward off the cold, but the high walls usually afforded sufficient protection for the more hardy. The home of Josefa and her mother was not distant from the carcel. Across tho plaza and a turn up North Flores street brought them to the place. Guy entered and was introduced to the mother. A glance at the two would have demonstrated to a less keen observer that there was a radical difference mentally as well as physically between mother and daughter. The latter showed intellect and indomitable will that gave a hard cast to her expression on occasions when she did not purposely control it "Have you heard anything lately of Manuel Euiz?" she asked, as Guy was about to take leave. "Not since he left the city," he replied. "I presume he writes to the Senorita Navarro." "To Beatrice? To Beatrice Navarro?" "She is the only senorita here of that name. I suppose you know she is engaged to Ruiz." "Engaged to Ruiz !" "Si senor ; to Manuel Ruiz." "I was not aware of it." "No, you scarcely know the senoritn, only met her once. lm\e never boon in her house. It is not to ho supposed you know much al her privnle affairs." "True but Manuel did not yet I never met him but once.' UU 1V11UU lever = GUY FiAYMoxo. l.(3 "I hope it is not having n depressing effect on Senor IJa\ nmnrV "On me! How could it?" "True; Americans are practical, not impulsive; do not fall in love except by slow degrees. Senorita Navarre's engagement cannot affect you, yet you appeared annoyed at first." "Not from what you said. In fact, my manner belied my feelings; it must, for I was not annoyed at. all." "You were possibly condemning Euiz for not telling you of his love." "No, I said I only met him once, but he befriended me and his act made him seem like a freind of years. Was it Beat the Senorita Navarro, who told^you of her engagement?" "She will deny it. I heard it from Euiz and saw the ring before it was given. But I am idling this to you who have no interest in the mailer, seeing von are almost a stranger to the parties. I will not detain you further, except to thank you for the pleasure of your company to my home. Being both unbelievers, as the Christians call us, I irust to see you often, senor." Guy moved abstractedly down the street, not noticing {lie few pedestrians he passed. One of these a tall, young Mexican re- garded him with peculiar interest, and turned to look after him until he had reached a distant corner. "What has he been doing in this quarter," he muttered, as Guy disappeared; "the murdering Gringo." It was Sancho. Guy reached the plaza and mechanically crossed towards San Fernando. He was about to pass the front entrance of the church without noticing Jose, who stood at the gate awaiting his approach. lose's liaiJ brought, him to himself again. "Senor Raymond, Father Tgnacio would like to see .you. I went to the carcel, but Bonito was as cross as a bear and would give me no more satisfaction, save that you had been there this morning." "All right, Jose; where will" I find him?" "In the sitting-room, senor." Guy entered the house, but avoiding the room to which he had been directed by Jose, repaired to his own apartment. It looked to him gloomy enough without a fire in his present mood. He threw himself upon the bed without any apparent purpose, and, bolstering his head with the hard Mexican pillow, said just audibly: "Beatrice engaged !" 164 GUY BAYM.OND. CHAPTEE XXV. We left Karnes watching the movements of the guard at the powder house, while Nathan Eoacli went hack to pilot the rest of their party to the chaparral surrounding it. The angelus from San Fernando had not yet ceased when a squad of soldiers marched into view from where the road lost itself in the direction of the town. This was the relief. The guard saw their approach, formed lazily into line and took their pieces from the stack. The relief passed before the line, bring- ing down their pieces in answer to its present, halted and dressed backward on the right. The sentry was then relieved, arms again stacked and a general pow-wow ensued. "Why in thunder don't the old guard go back?" muttered Karnes. The reason was explained to him, Karnes thought, when he saw the corporal and three others of the old guard resume an interrupted game of cards. "The gambling yaller-bellies! They'll neglect anything for a game. If they crowd it on to me we'll just light into the layout Seven of us ought to be equal to sixteen greasers. Nathe and me could lick half of them" The watcher began to grow impatient. He did not much like tie augmented force of his enemy, although he would not admit a fear of numbers, and he vented his displeasure on Nathan for not having given some signal of his return. "The blasted poke! He's crawling on all fours there and back, reckon. If ever I wanted a thing done quick and well I've had to d< it myself." His muttering was interrupted by the appearance of a Mexican at the window above, who looked intenely to the eastward, then called to those below, pointing at the same time in that direction. Karnes could not divine his words, but, knew he must have seen something of interest, as instantly two others ascended to his side and scanned the country from beneath their palms. "What can Nathe be doing?" Impatience getting the better of him, Karnes crawled away in direction Nathan "Roach had taken. He had not proceeded mnn.v yards when he perceived his men cautiously approaching, led hv the tardy messenger. Aflcr whispered consultation, a plan was decided upon, which involved an effort to cap! lire or destroy the whole de- j in , in ido nv GUY I. \YAI<> NT). 165 tachment of the enemy. Three of ihe pnriy had pistols in addition to their guns. The men were to deploy until a distance of several feet would separate them, then move steadily to the verge of the opening, or until a further advance would endanger a disclosure of their positions. The men severally on either flank were to take delib- erate aim at an enemy opposite. The center was ordered jo direct their shots at men on neither extreme, but to choose an aim to the left or right, according to position, the object being to make every bullet count, in order to ensure to (he enemy the possible maximum loss at the first volley. The signal to fire was to be a quail call from Karnes. The pro- gram having been arranged, the movement began. The commander occupied the center and was first in position. The old guard was in line, having just taken arms. The two non-commissioned officers were talking to one side. The sentry was walking his post. The other men, who had formed the relief, were inside the house. Karnes saw at once there was no time to be lost. He anxiously peered through the undergrowth to satisfy himself that his men were in their places. He instantly covered the right-center man of the squad, waited until the sentinel had come in line, just two or three feet behind him, and gave the signal. An almost simultaneous discharge of all the pieces followed. Karnes, Nathan and Hamilton, who had pistols, immediately rushed forward with yells, while the others followed, loading their pieces. The terrified Mexicans became demoralized. The charge had followed so quickly after the shots, whose fatal effect was now plainly visible, that the luckless soldiers inside the building did not sally for their arms, still stacked a few feet from them. Three shots only received the onset of the Texans. The discharge of the pistols at close quarters brought to terms those who had escaped the first fire, while the occupants of the house shut and barricaded the door. The whole plan had so far succeeded. Six of those with arms, in- cluding the sentinel, had fallen. Two corporals and two privates sur- rendered. Karnes posted Ducio and Jones to pick off any of the Mex- icans inside who might show themselves at the window above for the purpose of acting on the offensive. He then examined those who had been put hors du combat and found that five of them had been killed outright and one mortally wounded. His next thought was how to make prisoners of the balance. "Fire the door," suggested Roach. "Suggest to them the propriefv of surrender. I will draw up the 166 GUY RAYMOND. articles of capitulation," said Hamilton, gaily. "Fire will never do," said Mr. Trigg ; "it will signal to the balance of the town/' "Hamilton's idea is the best. Let us first ask them to surrender,'' said Karnes. "Mr. Smith, remove the prisoners further away to the left/' Karnes then approached the door and demanded in indifferent Mexican that those within should surrender at discretion, adding that on failure to comply, the virtue of fire would be tried as a persuader. After a parley that extended a quarter of an hour, terms were agreed upon and the door was opened. Five men only made their appearance. Karnes demanded the whereabouts of the remaining man. They denied that any more had constituted their force. "He must be in there," said Karnes, "for sixteen of the yaller devils were here when we woke 'em up." "If he is in here I will find him," said Hamilton, as he entered the place. Seeing no vestige of humanity below, he bounded up the steps. Karnes saw that the prisoners were secured, and placing tho last quota in charge of Smith, he ordered Ducio and Jones to go for the horses, and to lose no time. "Wouldn't it be safer to go to the horses ?" suggested Jones ; "when I was in India "D n India, sir! Do as you are ordered; start the hors this way ; we will meet you." "All right, Mr. Karnes; I only wanted to tell you of a rule Lord Dalrymple's." "My rule is the one for this squad to follow be off." A noise on the steps here attracted the attention of -all. and Hai ilton appeared, dragging a Mexican after him. "Here is your sixteenth man, captain. He was up at the top coi cealed like a hedgehog in his periodical retreat. He was ensconced beneath a pile of hay that these sons of Montezuma doubtless used as a bed when they should have been guarding the interests of old Santy." "It was a job to get the devils in town after us. The feller wa> to break for there no sooner'd we be out of sight," said "Roach, chuck- ing the prisoner under the chin. "You're a sooner, you is." "Mr. Roach is likely enough to be right," said M r. Trigg. "Nathe, search the prisoners and take from them rvrrylliiiig in their possession and put all in a (tile. I will examine the pockrfs of these dead fellows. Hamilton, go up and keep a lookout towards GUY RAYMOND. 167 town, for this is a bad place for a squad without pickets, as those poor devils found out." Karnes' orders were obeyed, while he bent over the dead. Nathan dexterously relieved the living of the odds and ends that he could detect about their persons and placed them, as directed, all together on the ground. The commander added the result of his search and found variety, if not value, had constituted the effects of the van- quished. A half dozen sheath knives were the most acceptable. A lot of monte cards, some silver change, buckskin strings, a clasp knife, tobacco, a few shucks ready fashioned for cigarettes, a rosary and a common memorandum bonk were about the sum of the articles. Nathan held up the beads with a quaint expression upon his quainter physiognomy. "These here is what them heal hens prays on." "You had better be making light of things that you are after knowing something ahoul. Mister Roach ; for it's heathens they are that don't know about a rosary and don't say the prayers that's said on it." "Then T want to be a, heathen." "It's glad I am that you're suited." "Mere's a book, Mr. Twig. It's got writin' in it. I can't read printin', let alone wrilhf. IMcbby you can guess it out." Mr. Trigg took the book and put. it into his pocket. "Return the prisoners all their property except their knives," com- manded Karnes. "If there's any papers keep them also. I thought I saw a memo- randum book." "Mr. Twig's got, it, Karnes, but 1 lay he can't read it." |"Trigg's my name, sir." "Your pardon, friend ; I meant no 'fense." 'Tome, N"athe, get along with the prisoners. You and Smith take an extra gun. I will call Hamilton and we three will bring the rest of the arms. Take the direction to the horses, so as to meet Jones and the other man." Hamilton obeyed the summons down, reporting everything quiet in and towards town. He called attention to the hazy appearance of the northern horizon and predicted that it meant a blow. The three men gathered up the captured arms and followed after tic prisoners. Meeting the horses a little further on, they stopped to arrange for the march to rejoin the command. The muskets were distributed; the prisoners secured in pairs to a lariat, one end of which was tied to Nathan's saddle horse. He and Ducio followed 168 GUY RAYMOND. after Karnes; the others brought up the 1 rear. In this order they commenced their march, skirting the hills whose range pointed to the southwest and divided the valleys of the San Antonio and Salado. "A right smart brush that was. Sixteen at a lick and none of our'n hurt/' said Nathan to Ducio. "I got my man, but some one missed/' said the latter. "Ef anybody missed, it must a been you or Smith." "There were six killed and seven guns fired. Mr. Karnes, who do you think missed." "I don't like to say, Half en ; I think I got two with my one shot." "How could that be?" "That shows the boy ain't up to snuff. I saw your play, Karnes ; you know it's one of our tricks." "If Mr. Karnes killed two, then two of our shots missed their mark. What was the trick, Roach ?" "Why Karnes jest waited tel the sent'nel lined his man, and then he popped them both. Can't yer see? He nor me don't miss, we don't." The progress of the party was slow. The prisoners were sullen and made no attempt to move with celerity. Hamilton was keeping up the spirits of the rear by an occasional hit at Jones. The latter bore it with scarcely a ruffle to his temper, now and then appealing to Mr. Trigg to help him out. "Jones, I would like to hear that rule of Lord Somebody's ov in India that you attempted to quote to Mr. Karnes up at the powde house." "What would be the use of telling it to a rattle brain like yo You would be sure to ridicule it." "Rattle brain ! You don't know my prowess. I'm naturally ga and, with my present environment, do not show the polish which exists under this rough exterior, nor the intellect imprisoned behind this massive brow, awaiting but the occasion to call it forth to benefit my race and country." "Bosh ! You got that out of some trashy book." "One can't expect the truth from you. A recognition of m worth would be an expression of truth ergo, as the logicans say you could not do me justice." "You rarely say a sensible thing." "Would you have me e'er with clouded brow^grim-visaged, utte ing only sage expressions and moral truths; or worse, telling impos- sible adventures or palpable lies, that neither poini ;i moral nor ador a tale? The mess would die of ennui if I did not come to the resc : GUY RAYMOND. 169 and offset your lugubrious falsifications by my flow of wit and fund of folly. Why, Mr. Trigg wouldn't have smiled in any other mess, and I have kept him healthy with laughing/' "It doesn't hurt to have a bit of fun," said Mr. Trigg. Karnes here cut short their talk by riding to the rear and direct- ing Hamilton, Jones and Mr. Trigg to hand over their captured guns to the others and accompany him in a detour he intended to make, so as to pass near the mission of Concepcion. Nathan was put in command of the others with instructions what point to make for, and the parties separated. The mission was in plain view and situated two miles below the town. Karnes., like a true scout, wished to leam if any force was there, and to pick up any information that would be likely to benefit the army, from a point he knew must be in the line of march in the advance soon to be made on the Mexican stronghold. The squad went forward at a gallop, without any attempted concealment, head- ing first obliquely towards the river, until not more than six hundred yards intervened between the dark old structure and their position. Heading boldly in its direction, they circled it in close rifle shot, but not a foe could be seen. Two women appearing in the door of a jacal in the rear of the mission, Karnes rode near and addressed them in their language: "Any soldiers been here today ?" "Si senor, esta manana." ow many?" b no se, muchos." A great many ! How many ?" "Ciento, dos cientos, mas o menos." e or two hundred, more or less," he repeated after her. "How the picket from here ?'' "No se yo." "Don't you go to town sometimes ?" " fl i, senor." far is ti ell then, where do you pass the soldiers when you go and when turn?" "Oh ! si yo lo intiendo bien, en esta casita bianco a lado del dno." The woman had understood and definitely located the position of the picket at a little white house near some trees by the side of the road. If lie had not been encumbered with the prisoners, Karnes would have iixliik'-od his humor to call up his full force and surprise the 170 GUY RAYMOND. ^^H ; guard at the little white house, but he had done enough to set hive in an uproar. He had not received a sting and would rejoi his command with a whole skin and plenty of evidence of h success. "Well, men, let us strike out for our friends." "In good season, too," said Hamilton. "There comes the blow predicted. The air has cooled in the last minute/ 1 "It's a norther, and it's time we had one," said Karnes. "From the looks of yon sky we will have a stiff one this time/" said Mr. Trigg. "You have followed the sea, Mr. Trigg?" asked Karnes. "I did, sir." "Then there ought to be many a good yarn in you." "He let us have one or two on the Cibolo," said Hamilton. "If I had the Pagination of Mister Jones I could br after telling many a one." "And you, too, Mr. Trigg," said Jones. "Et tu Trigge !" corrected Hamilton; "why don't you use your Latin. I will wager you were more classical in India." "Sure them elephants must a knocked it outi of him." "Or that rule of Lord Dalrymple's proscribed its use," said Ham- ilton. "Sure, I heard nothing about the rule." "No, for Mr. Karnes sealed him up. The gravity of the occasi and our proximity to the enemy, encumbered as we were with the spoils of victory, rendered necessary the postponement of its promulgatio Now, Jones, is the opportune moment. Give us his lordship's ru and I will take it down phonetically." "You'd pronounce it a lie. Even Mr. Trigg is against me." "Here's the norther, boys," said Karnes. The flying hats of all except the last speakers went sailinginadvan and a merry chase was given them by their owners. Even Mr. Trigg, unusually good humored during the scout, gave vent to a hearty laugh as lie spurred after his truant covering. The wind increased to great violence, sending the dust flying in blinding clouds. It was the same blow that stampeded the herd whose onset endangered the lives of Beatrice Navarre and her rescuer. Opposite the mission of San Jose, four miles further down the riv Karnes caught up with Captain Bowie, whom Nathan Roach, with t prisoners, had already joined. Bowie was very fond of Karnes an was proud of his achievement. Roach had given a spirited account of the affair, much to the entertainment of the listeners. of :; m< GUY RAYMOND. 171 The detachment had picked a camp and already several huge log fires were burning brightly, giving protection to the men from the blast, which had well nigli chilled them to the bone. The rest of the command had communicated their arrival at the mission of Espada, a little further down the stream, and Bowie was ordered to keep a vigilant lookout to prevent a surprise. From Karnes' report there was no immediate danger to be antici- pated from an attack. The boldness of his conduct at the powder house, which doubtless became known in the town during the after- noon, must have confirmed the enemy in the belief that a large force of Texans were at hand. This would keep them cautious for a while, nn til a reconnoitre should disclose the absence of any enemy to be feared. When our squad had refreshed themselves after their day's work, they sat by a comfortable fire recounting the brush with the Mexicans, and wondering when the next affair would come off. "By the way, Mr. Trigg," said Hamilton, "have you that memo- randum book in your pocket? I'd like to see what is written in it." "That's whar you'll get left, Mister Hamilton. You kin use jaw- breakers, but the Mexican lingo is what'll git you." M r. Trigg drew from his pocket the book in question, and, passing it to Hamilton, said: "You can study it out. If T had a mind to, I couldn't, for my glasses are put away in my roll." It was early evening and as Hamilton turned it to the firelight and bent over to examine the contents, he exclaimed: "No Mexican this. It is the pure vernacular and the best of English/ 1 "What's it about?'' asked several. "Read it," said two or three voices. Hamilton began reading, and when he finished, had imparted to his auditors the complete memorandum made by Guy Kay- mond of his adventures up 1<> ihe lime of his imprisonment in the can-el. One of the Mexicans who met his deaih at the powder house was the sentinel at the carcel, who secured the pocket book left by (,'uy on tlie bench under flic window of his cell. Mr. Trigg became interested at the commencement of Hamilton's reading, and was much excited when the dog Eolla was mentioned. When it came to Stella's and his own partly spelled name, he could sea reel v control himself. "(Jive me the book, sir. T had it all this time in my pocket and none the wiser of what it could tell me, just for the looking at it. I'll get my specs and read it over." "Is it anyone you know ?" asked several. "It's the boy I've been wanting. I feared he was dead. He migh as well be under the ground or back with the Indians as to be in power of the dirty greasers." Mr. Trigg would brook no more questioning, but set to work to unroll his blankets and get his glasses from a pouch where he carried his little valuables. We will leave the big-hearted Irishman to pore over the record of his boy's troubles while our squad, relieved from guard duty, got tired of story telling and lapsed into slumber. CHAPTER XXVI. Eeveille at daybreak on the following morning roused the men of Bowie's command, who were still sleeping. The norther had greatly abated, but the air was crisp and raw, piercing the scanty blankets and light clothing of the volunteers, most of whom had left their homes hastily and unprepared for a winter campaign. The last laggard had crawled from his nest and joined his squad around the fire, when another call soiftided. Very few of the men knew much about military calls, and several conjectures were indulged in by our squad as to its meaning. Mr. Trigg, who had descended the bank of a little stream running near to perform his morning ablutions, now joined them with the remark : "What's the assembly call for, Mister Hamilton ?" "I presume it is called for us to assemble, sir," replied Hamilton. Hamilton had been the only one who had not admitted his ignorance of the purpose of the call. "Why didn't you say what it was for when we were talking a it just now ?" said Jones, addressing Hamilton. "Do you expect me to be everlastingly lighting up your benight mind?" "I will bet he didn't know it was assembly call until Mr. Trigg came up," said Ducio ; "did he, Roach ?" "No tellin', when it comes to knowin' things what he don't know. He must a learnt that whar he learnt them hifalutin words he's alw poking at Jones." "Where did you learn that call, Mr. Trigg? I thought you were a sailor." "Fact is, I'm after being a little of everything. I was at Orleans, sir. The call you have heard is the same as they have in the army over there; and that chap with the bugle was in Uncle Sam's band/' he says. "There'll be a second call, if he means businesss, and ye all will have to get into line. Do vo mind iliat fellow n'oing around a telling of them ?" GUY RAYMOND. 173 Here Karnes en mo up mid askr-d what the bugle had sounded for. Hamilton informed him with an air imparting a thorough familiarity with calls of all descriptions. "Suppose we march up in file at the second call, if one is made. The other greenies will imagine we are veterans. In India when "Blast India ! It is dangerous ground for you, Jones. But his suggestion is nearer wisdom than usual. Suppose we do it. Fll command the squad/' said Hamilton. The words were scarcely, out of his lips when the bugle sounded. "Fall in squad! Tallest in front! At the tail end, Smith! There ! S-t-e-a-d-y s-o." The squad had fallen in promptly, but were rather merry at the assumed authority of their pedantic commander. "Stop your laughing! Left face! Right, dress! Back a little, Mr. Roach. Steady ! Front ! Squad forward, guide right March !"' The men marched briskly along, keeping pretty fair step, except Nathan Roach, whose long body made a curve, while his head bent forward, continuing the arc of the ragged circle formed by his back. "Straighten up. Roach. For God's sake stop bobbing up and down, and shorten your everlasting step. You are disgracing the squad. Just look at Mr. Trigg, old enough to be your grandfather, but as straight as an arrow. 1 " Hamilton marched them in front of headquarters, halted and dressed the line, reported their presence and took his position on their right. The movement caused a hearty laugh and did more to assemble the men than the notes of the bugle. The volunteers were a raw set, as a body. They knew nothing of discipline, and the younger ones had probably never heard a military command. Captain Bowie finally obtained silence and thus addressed the crowd : "Fellow soldiers : I have called you together to inform 'you that we have marching orders that will admit of no delay. The contem- plated movement is one of importance, and every man in my command must at once set about preparing cooked rations for twenty-four hours; see that his arms and ammunition are in first-class order and make himself ready in every respect to meet our enemy. Captain Farinin's command will march with us, while the main army will follow in supporting- distance. I noticed just now a germ of dis- cipline, which I trust will be emulated by every squad in my com- pany. I am aware that the men who displayed it were actuated by 12-r 174 Gkrx RAYMOND. a spirit of fun, but it shows how voluntary may discipline become among men prepared to surrender a little personal liberty and ease for the sake of that civil liberty which will be the result of the triumph of our cause. Men, obey the orders I have just given you/' "Hurrah for Jim Bowie !" came from a score of throats. The canfp was soon in the bustle of preparation. It was the twenty-seventh of October. Karn.cs' discovery of the position of the enemy within the walls of San Antonio, with only light pickets thrown out within a mile or so from town, had been dispatched to General Austin by courier the evening before. The messenger found him at the mission of Espada, just dismissing the members of the council to return to the seat of government. After a brief consultation with his principal officers, the commander-in-chief de- termined on a forward movement to terminate in the investment and capture of the town and the Alamo. He therefore sent orders to Carjtain Bowie and Fannin to put their forces in motion; to approach San Antonio as near as prudence might determine, and await the ar- rival of the army. In obedience to this order Captain Bowie assem- bled his company as detailed in the beginning of this chapter. "I'd like to know where the twenty-four hours' cooked rations are coming from. These two quarts of meal wont more than do for breakfast, and the dried beef in those saddle bags won't last two meals," said Karnes. "That comes from taking Roach in our mess. He is so long it takes three rations to fill him," said Hamilton. "But he stands starvation," put in Karnes, apologetically. "You should have seen him up on the Trinity where we Were without grub for three days, and the red devils after us/' "It is a wonder that our friend from India don't see you on t and go twenty days better." "I am glad, Mr. Hamilton, that you see fit to doubt someb else's veracity, as well as mine." "Never had a doubt about yours, sir ; never once since the eleph story." "Give him a rest, Hamilton, for the Lawd's sake. Ef I was Jones I'd whip you before night," said N"athan. "Just save your fighting propensities for the greasers, as I t you once before. Jones and myself understand each other." "Hurrah! If there is not Perry!" cried Hamilton, dropping gun, which he was cleaning, and starting to meet the niesen-vr San Filipe, who had come in sight a few yards up the road. Mr. Trigg had been making his own preparations in silence, paying wan : GUY RAYMOND. 175 little attention to the light talk of his messmates, but when he heard Hamilton's exclamation he could not refrain from following to meet the hoy. "We thought you had deserted us, Perry. You played us a pretty tri'-k, sneaking off at night and never a good-bye." " 'Twas orders, Mr. Hamilton ; I hadn't a minute's warning." "You missed all the fun, Perry. Sixteen greasers succumbed to our valor and "Howdy, Mr. Trigg." "Welcome hack, my boy. I hope it's good news ye have ?" "None bad, sir. A letter which I have for you will tell all about those you want in hear from. Where is General Austin?" "It is a matter of five or six miles to his camp down the river. The captain is in command, here and you had better report. Soon as you've reported, fetch the letter." "It is right here in my pocket. Here it is." Mr. Trigg reached eagerly for the letter and walked aside to read it. "You had a fight, then," said Perry. I faiui Ron related to him the particulars of the affair at the powder house. "So the old man was in it." "He's true grit/' replied Hamilton; "and Jones, and Ducio, and that fellow Smith : and you remember that specimen of the genus homo who came to the camp the day before you left that long, lean, lanksided, awkward cuss, whose hands reached below his knees when he stood as near erect as his semi-circular anatomy could attain a perpendicular, and whose thin, hungry-looking visage was emphasized by his drooping chin and high cheek bones that fellow who rode that; fine sorrel with the antedeluvian saddle and stirrups too short for him by a foot, and at whom we all laughed so?" "Ha! ha !" laughed Perry remember him! That's what I'll do 'til my dying day." "Well, he was with us. But, my boy, you can risk you last cent that he is a whole team. He can crawl on his belly like a snake and hide in irrass a foot high." "What's his name?" "He pursues his awkward way through the world under an appel- lation whose lack of euphony is in keeping with his tout-ensemble." "Far GkxTs sake, Tipton 'Hamilton, do talk English." "Forgive me, Perry, but Koach's appearance is, in itself, a source ictive of merriment, irony and their sisters laughter and wit. . 176 GUY EAYMOND. But, boy, he is touchous. In my first sally at him he raised the whoop and circled the air with his ungainly arms until I apologize The fellow will fight," "But this is not reporting; where's the "There's the captain at his breakfast." Hamilton pointed to where four men were sitting on a log by fire eating, and followed the youth in the direction indicated. "Perry, we have got marching orders to go right into town. We will be off in an hour and are sure to have a brush with them. If you are to go to Austin's camp with your dispatches, you'll miss the fun again. If I were you, I'd beg off and let some one else take them. Ask Bowie; he'll do it." "All right, come along and back me up ; you're good on the talk." Perry approached and accosted Captain Bowie, telling him whence he came and informing him of his possession of dispatches for army headquarters. "Well, sir, you know your duty. General Austin is at the mission of Espada, six miles below here. What road did you travel to reach us?" "I followed the cavalry trail that left the main body and it brought me right to you." "Have you picked up any information that you can communicate for our benefit. ?" "No, sir ; I have not met a soul on the way." "Take the dispatches at once to General Austin; but stay have you had your breakfast? If not, join us here." "Can't some one else take them to General Austin?" stamme Perry; "I missed the powder house fight and now I am ordered the rear." "How do you know you would have been at the powder hou Picked men were sent there." "Mr. Karnes would have picked me," replied Perry, confidently. Here Hamilton suggested that a fresh man and a fresh horse won be better to entrust with important dispatches. "That is true," said Bowie. "Young man you can march with us Mr. Trigg had finished reading Stella's letter and sat in me tative mood by the mass fire thinking over its contents. "Pity it is she's been so long with that giddy aunt, without any religion at all. But the dear child writes sensible like, and it's straightened out she'll be when the nuns get her, of all that infidel talk about duty for a religion. What's duty and such like without the Blessed Mother and Saints and the Holy Church? The next letter she gets GUY EAYMOND. 177 from me she'll be after hearing from her brother being in San Antonio. But sure it's out of the frying pan inio the fire he is from the In- dia us to the greasers. 'The New Orleans volunteers/ them's the fellows that's joined the general since we marched. It's a bad ti un- to be knocking around the gulf in a schooner; but it's good luck I hope she'll have "Mr. Trigg, I am not to go any further, but will march with you. Here's some socks Stella sent you." "She spoke of them in. the letter the dear child did she look happy, Perry?" _ "She was not gay, but appeared contented." "Were the cheeks rosy like when I left her?" ust like peaches, sir." n good health, then. Perry, her brother is in San Antonio." ow did you hear?" 'We got this memorandum book off a dead Mexican up yonder. It's Guy's o\vu writiif and tells about his being in the prison and get- ting away from the Indians." "That was strange," said Perry, looking over the book. "It's what I call providential," said Mr. Trigg. hat's noi the word," said 1 lamillnn, who had just joined them, t was rather one of (hose fortuitous circumstances that permeate human experience and pander to our inclination to attribute to the su ,'crnat urul all that appears to us unaccountable. What can be easier to explain than the incident you attribute to an act of Providence? Your young friend is a prisoner in a military stronghold and con- sequently his guard is a soldier. He wrote in this book. The sent inel u'ot it into Ins possession bv some means. In the course of his duties the powder house became his temporary post. We captured him there, and the book is in your hands. See it?" "You may have it that way, Mister Hamilton, but remember that find directs every thing, even the likes of the falling of a leaf." "Mr. Trigg, you are a born pantheist." "Ifs a Koinaii Catholic I am, sir. Did you mane T was a Pro- testant?' no means: I said pantheist." d what is that?" ne who belie\e> that the whole creation is Clod." verything in the world ?" \crytliing in the universe." e's a horn fool as believes the likes of that." biiirle sounded t he assembly. 178 GUY RAYMOND. The men had made hasty preparations for the march, after having partaken of their breakfasts, and at the summons from the bugle, they commenced to mount their horses and assemble in the road. The company of Captain Fannin, which had been camped near, came in sight, with their gallant ocmmander riding at the head of the column. They numbered fifty men. As they passed, the men of Bowie's company cheered them with a will. The latter, now formed, answered to roll call, then followed in Fannin's rear with forty men in ranks. These ninety Texans marched away with the mission of Concep- cion as their objective point, where they were to await the commander in chief while reconnoitering the position of the enemy. This mission was not unlike the others founded by the Francis- cans early in the eighteenth century. The difference consisted in their dimensions and the amount of ornamentation displayed in the architectural finish bestowed on the front elevations and side openings. Concepcion ranked about third in area and importance. It was situ- ated four hundred yards from the river in a bend made by the latter to the west. In front the northern view was open. To the east a prairie stretched a thousand yards to a chain of hills. Riverward was timber, just beyond a bluff that bordered the valley proper, and which made an angle conforming with its flow. This bluff formed the western and southern sides of the plateau that stretched in- definitely to the north and mingled on the east with the undulations of the prairie. A few Mexican jacals occupied positions near and in rear of the church. A single tower surmounted the northwest corner of the latter. The whole structure was blackened and defaced by the ravages of time, and presented all the aspects of neglect that inevitably follow a continued absence of occupation and care. A travelled road approached from the direction of the town and passed along its eastern side and on down the river. This road branched to the right about one hundred paces before reaching Concepcion and found its way to a ford, where it crossed and led to San Jose, four miles distant. A position on the parapet of the church afforded a good view of the plateau, whose level was unbroken for nearly a mile, save by clumps of bushes dotting it here and there. Then a series of mottes, beginning at a small white house to the right of the road, disclosed themselves in tiers, until the low walls of the houses of the city, fin-ling the more pretentious masonry of San Fernando, filled the background. To the left, the timbered river; to the right, the rolling country, culminating in the hills, whoro the garita or powder house GUY RAYMOND. 179 showed itself above the now paling foliage of the mesquite, completed the picture. It was in the forenoon of the twenty-seventh. The mission had its usually deserted appearance, looking dark and grim, in contrast with the flood of sunshine that poured from a cloudless sky. The norther had spent its fury, but the sharp air still contended with the warmth of heaven, and yielded only where cover from the polar current gave vantage to the descending rays. The day had a la/y look with all its brightness. The recent fierceness of the wind, cutting and cold, had driven all animated nature to retreats, whence ii emerged only to bask in sunshine where protecting leaf or limb, hillside or wall, gave inviting shelter. Behind the low wall of the mis- sion wing two donkeys stood with lowered heads, motionless as statu- ary, their long ears limp and hori/ontal. They looked the picture of repose. Two Mexicans, with blankets thrown close around their shoulders, leaned lazily against the same projection near its eastern corner and were conversing, while apparently watching a woman near, who, in a sitting posture, was busily working her arms as if she was scrubbing. A nearer inspection, by a connoisseur, however, would have at once disclosed her true occupation to have been the prepara- tion of paste for tortillas. A slab of stone on the ground held the softened corn, while a half rounded rock, firmly held in both hands, was used to reduce the grain to the required fineness. The doorway of an adobe hut, from which hung a fresada with looped corner, disclosed a bed and articles of its simple furniture. It was the domicil of the tortilla maker, who had moved to the shelter of the wa 1 for protection. She frequently ceased the movement of her arms to scrape back the truant grains to the middle of the slab, and while this engaged she rattled away in rapid talk to the men, who would reply to her loquacity in nasal tones, while a smile would occasionally relieve the apathetic expression of the Aztec features. "It is true, or my name is not Locaria Landina." This was said by the woman in response to some doubt about a previous assertion she had made. "How many did you say?" Kve. Five mounted Americans." - what time in the day?" "About three hours afler dinner." "What shall we do, Juan? Here we are between two fires. If we join these fellows there is no Idling what desperate fights we will he |<-d info. If we do not join ibein (Jeneral Cos will force us into the army and we will have io meei jhese devils of American^" 180 GUY RAYMOND. "It is true. Ramon. The best thing is to steal horses from the herd and get away from these parts. I see no other way." "A good idea of yours, but the herd will be kept close., now that the Americans are around." "The greatest trouble will be "There comes a man now," said Locaria. "If I remember right, he looks like the officer who forced my brother into his company." The two men made a movement as if to retreat, but before they could move more than a pace or two, a horseman came up at a canter and reined his animal to a halt opposite the woman. "Buenas Dias ! amigos," he said, saluting the three. They all -returned the greeting. "Where is your brother Locaria ?" "My brother ! Do you know him ?" "Well, that is the reason I could call your name." "True, you did call me Locaria. I was so frightened I did not notice it." "Still you have not answered my question." "Oh! About my brother. They took him for a soldier. When I first saw you I thought you were the one who took him away." "Is that the reason you were frightened ?" "Si, senor. And yesterday there were five Americans here asking about the soldiers in. the town. But they were good Americans and very polite." "F-i-v-e A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n-s ! Can you tell me where they went?' "Abajo, senor. Down that road as far as T could see them." "The mission of Espada, doubtless," mused the new comer. "J as I was informed." He thought awhile, then addressed the men who had remained listen : "Well, my good fellows, where are you from? Perhaps dodging the military. Am I not right?" "Si senor," they replied. "I don't blame you for not wanting to serve with a lot of convi brought here to destroy the liberties of the people. Why don't you help drive them out?" The men looked at each other, but were silent. The horse regarded them with contemptuous pity, then turned his looks down road. "For via de mi madre!" he exclaimed. "If that cloud of dust does not mean something I am mistaken. Here, Locaria, hold rein until I see what it means." T vy WL man ""- ust GUY RAYMOND. 181 So saying, he dismounted and darted into! the mission. A mo- ment later he was looking .from the parapet in the direction of the dust rising in the distance. He soon descended and relieved the woman if her charge. "What did you see, senor ?" "The army of liberty. The Americans will soon be here, Locaria. But where are those two fellows ?" "Gone. They made off as soon as you entered the mission/' "But, senor, will the Americans harm us?" "Fear not, Locaria, they are our friends." "Friends ! They come to fight Mexicans." "But Mexicans stole your brother from you." they would not?" They will get him back for you." >ue buena gente." CHAPTER XXVII. [anuel Ruiz did not remain long chatting with Locaria before his solution of the cans* 1 of tin- f the rhyme? Was it a fortuitous circumstance? Had the jailer made a trade for a consideration, to one who knew well the value of the diagram? Had violence been used to obtain it? Won- any of these hypotheses true, the indications were plain that 1'onito had not overestimated the value of the documents, and that a hidden treasure awaited the coming of their possessor. That the Frem-hman had missed the paper was apparent from his expression ami movements. The unknown with the long beard had pointed him 294 GUY KAYMOND. out as the abstractor. Could they trace him or even identify him? His copies,, carefully filed away in his chest, were as serviceable as the originals. Had the Frenchman fully gleaned the import of the rhyme.? If not, he was sole master of the situation. If he had what then? Would he incur risk for its repossession? The quantum of courage and character in his makeup would perhaps determine his action. If he could only have this Frenchman assassinated, there would be no obstacle to his eventual possession of old Antonio's gold. No necessity for haste then. On the other hand, with the French- man living, there would have to be active movements, to say nothing of the menace to himself entailed by a mutual knowledge of the buried treasure. The notary was startled by his own sinister thoughts, for he had never plotted against a life. But here gold, or the secret of its locality, was the tempter to inveigle him from the even tenor of his life to enter the arena of crime or of criminal intent. He watched the flickering light now struggling from the socket, its motion casting grim shadows along the walls and bethought him of the nec- essity of a new candle before the expiring flame should be dissipated in darkness as black as his own bad thoughts. The new dip was ignited just in time, and he held it until the hot socket of the stick would be cold enough for its reception. "If this Frenchman could only be put out of the way," he mut- tered. "It would be as easy as snuffing out the flame of a candle, if I could only get ihe authorities to believe that he is a spy, and that diagram he had is a plan of defenses for Galveston Island. A good idea! In the morning I will go to headquarters and I will put a flea into the lieutenant's ear." The notary's reflections were interrupted at this point by a rap at- the door. Snatching the paper from the table and concealing on his person, he demanded : "Quien es?" The reply came: "The sergeant of the patrol." On receiving this reply he did not hesitate to enter the dm hnll and open the street door. The caller entered and pushed his way in as far as the door of the little office, without replying to second inquiry of the notary as to what was wanted. Tin 1 light of the candle revealed to the astonished official, not the military visitor he expected to see, but the Frenchman who occupied his thoughts during the time which had intervened sii IK- Imd quitted the Cabeza de Toro. "You i\r(t not a sergeant," he exclaimed, as he recognized Du< GUY KAYMOND. 295 "But you are the notary/' "I am." "Well, I have some business with yon, and claimed to be the sergeant to ensure admittance." "It is very late to call on business. I will see you in the morning." "Excuse me, senor notary, but T prefer to at least arrange the preliminaries tonight." "Your business, senor; but cut it short." "You were at the Cabeza de Toro tonight." .mistake, senor. It has been six months since I paid a visit place." liar ns well as a thief," said Ducio aside, saw you there myself. You took a paper I dropped on the dealer's table, and I have come to get it." "Santa Maria ! How can you say it, senor, when T have not out of my office?" id you not skulk out of the place when you saw me move in direction?" "Hold, senor! Bid not the individual you took for me wear a \\hite hat a, little set back from his face?" "True; but nevertheless it was you, the notary." have it. It was my twin brother. A case of mistaken identity. My brother often visits the Cabeza de Toro, and we are v- Tit able Dromios." Ducio was silenced, but assumed a doubtful expression. "Sec. senor! Here is the hat I have worn for a month. The p'T-on you saw wore a white one." "\Vell, senor notary, if you have any regard for your twin coun- terpart, you had better help me get this paper I spoke of. I will u'iv oflVr easy discovery of the buried gold. JSuch wore Uucio's reflections as he leisurely moved along under cover of the darkness, little suspecting that his interview with the notary had had a witness. CHAPTER XLI. The morning following the conference between Ducio and the notary, Manuel Ruiz wrote the following note to Guy Raymond : "My friend: As the time is pressing for the accomplishment of my errand to this place, I write to post you in order that you may profit by an opportunity to escape from the enemy's lines to the ranks of the Texans. An officer of the Mexican army of high rank is here and in correspondence with a spy in the councils of our friends. It is proposed to kidnap this officer and to convey him by the river outside the town limits. 1 have laid all plans necessary for the suc- cess of the undertaking. In disguise I have visited the nest and have found out the very bed on which this person sleeps. This information gained, I have asked the cooperation of a party from the Texans, who will descend the river in a boat on - night. You will please inform me of the best plan in your judgment to be pursued to effect your escape from the cared. I do not think Bonito can be bribed, miser though he may be. I have an idea, but would like to hear from you before I give expression to it. You should be out in time to help us in our undertaking. Reply to me through the basket re- ti.rned to the Candelario's. Your servant, M. R." The note came with the evening meal and Bonito, in person, was the bearer of the basket, covered as usual by one of Candelario's nap- kins. The jailer was reticent. His late experience had unnerved him to a degree that evidenced a marked change, not merely from a char- acteristic loquacity to a sententious expression, but in a physical manner, his jolly, half hopeful look having given place to a woe- begone appearance emphasized by a frequent twitching of the facial nerves. "I hope you feel in better spirits, Bonito," said Guy, as the other handed in the basket. "There is your supper, senor," he replied, evasively. "What news, Bonito?" "I am not a newsdealer. And then, where's the heart to gather news and talk gossip when one's head is the target for bad luck? LJ-J-O mrt, sket, 300 GUY RAYMOND. But th"re i> sonic news for you. The orders are to keep you and the toreador under a strict watch. There can be no privileges of com senor, as before." "Thanks, Bonito, for the information." When Guy read the note from Ruiz, which he found in the basl he began to ruminate on the necessity of escape now more apparent since the nature of Bonito's last orders became known to him. There was evidently some influence working against him more potent than the prejudice of race, or the suspicion of his implication in the murder of Vasquez. The authorities were under the impression that Ruiz was his fellow prisoner,, and upon the latter and himself had converged a suspicion of complicity in that tragedy. Hence the strictness of Bonito's orders. Jose's masquerade would be lifted in the event of a trial or investigation requiring identification and a search for Manuel be instituted. On the return of the jailer to fetch water and to take away the basket and dishes, Guy slipped in a paper among the latter upon which was written the following words : "Whenever my services will be required give me at least three hours notice of the time and place to meet you and I will be there." The moodiness which had possessed Bonito still asserted itself when he came for the things, but he lingered after having possessed himself of the basket as if he were inclined to say something. Guy, observing this, put his hand familiarly on his shoulder and said in undertone : "Bonito, amigo, make me your confident and perhaps I may h( you to regain your cheerful manner. You have been a good jailer and kind to me. Unburden your heart to one who would not be ungrateful for ten times the gold you ever possessed." Bonito's finger went to his lips as he glanced cautiously towards Jose, who was making his pallet, and then gave Guy a look full of admonition. "Your parole, senor; not to attempt to escape," and he drew his prisoner into the passageway and out of hearing of the other inmate of the cell. "I think I know who assaulted me in the in the "Down there," said Guy. "Well ?" "The Frenchman." "The Frenchman ?" "He was a prisoner but was released." "Ah! I see. The same who denounced Manuel but the proof! "It could only be he." GUY KAYMOND. 301 Guy thought a moment, then facing the other he put a hand on each of his shoulders and in that attitude of confidence that is cal- culated to enlist the interest and win over resistance. "Bonito," he said, slowly; "I have an idea which, if carried out, will put this Frenchman out of your way and silence a witness to to you understand." "Yes senor. Yes yes." "Let me have tonight to think it over/' "I will, senor; think and think well, and I will be your servant. It is strange I have this confidence in you, senor. You know all, and yet I find myself arguing with myself that you would not touch one centado. But this dark-faced Frenchman, senor; he has such cunning in his eyes that when I look in them I see the treachery of an Indian without his courage; the venom of a rattlesnake without its warning. He is a favorite at headquarters and I have just learned that to him are due the orders for your stricter confinement." "We will attend to this subject of France, Bonito. Fetch me a light after you deliver this basket." "I will, senor, but have it put out when the relief comes at ten." The morning after Guy's rearrest, Linda went to the monte pio's to make some trifling purchase. The proprietor, who had always had a soft spot in his heart for the pretty daughter of the jailer, received he;r in his usually gracious manner. Linda was really his choice for a wife, but the girl was refractory and resisted the attempts of her father who, in his blundering way, had endeavored to make her com- prehend the importance of an alliance with a man possessed of lantold articles of value, with no knowing how many sacks of doubloons. "What will Linda have this morning?" asked her suitor. "A little ring I saw here. Tomorrow is my god-child's birthday and he must have a present. But the ring is gone,. How unlucky I am." "Certainly among all these you will find one to suit." I "I had set my heart on the one sold." "You should have engaged it; but perhaps you are opposed to all kinds of engagements/' Linda turned away as if annoyed. "How is the American taking his arrest?" he contineud. "He, perhaps, has not heard of the rumor that he and Manuel Euiz are to be shot, and that without a trial. It is said that their guilt is so plain that not even the decision of a military court will be needed." "How heard you this report ?" asked Linda, excitedly. 302 GUY RAYMOND. "Now you are interested, my little one. This fellow has turned the heads of the women." "Tell me, senor, if what you said is true ?" "Sancho and the lieutenant of the staff say it is so decided. Frenchman is the principal witness against them on one count, that of being spies within the lines, while as murderers of Vasquez, the evidence is quite plain." Linda did not return home when she left the monte pio's, but going diagonally across the plaza she left San Fernando to her right and turned down South Flores street until she arrived before the home of the Navarros. Beatrice admitted her in answer to her summons. "What, Linda ! In tears !" "Oh, Beatrice ! Beatrice ! I hate to tell you." The sobbing girl threw herself into a chair and was a moment or two recovering herself sufficiently to proceed. "Do speak, Linda. Is your father sick?" "Worse, Beatrice, worse." "What! Dying BP "Oh no no Senor Raymond ! Oh, Beatrice ! Senor Raymond !" Beatrice's cheek blanched, and she held the table against which she was leaning with a firmer clutch. She spoke not, but awaited with fixed features the ability of her friend to proceed. Linda, with averted look, continued : "It is said that Senor Raymond and Manuel Ruiz will certainly be shot." "Certainly?" demanded Beatrice. "Certainly, said you?" Her lips were pale and compressed. Her handsomely chiseled nostrils expanded to a measured respiration, indicating strong feeling and a stronger purpose. "I had it from the monte pio, and he said it came from those in authority from Sancho and the lieutenant of the staff." "I will see my father. I will see Father Ignacio. I will face the general himself. I will Oh, Guy ! Guy ! To be a victim to such a rabble. Linda, it shall not be. As I love him I will save him. I may be absolutely nothing to him, but I am determined he shall not be shot like a dog by this cowardly mob which calls itself an army. Linda, you will help me. I may need your assistance if the fiend? prove deaf to the appeal of justice or to the force of influence. There is no time to lose. This may require prompt action and moments may be precious. Do you glean everything in the shape of facts and sift each rumor that you hear to discover the grain of truth it may con- tain." GUY RAYMOND. 303 Beatrice paced the room excitedly, while Linda, half rising to go, watched her. "Yes, Linda, go. Through your solicitude I detect your love for him. All the better. Your passion will spur you to his assistance. As for myself, I swear that he shall be released, and with God's help and my deep love the strongest walls of Bexar cannot hold him." "Beatrice, I will go and learn all I can. Perhaps my father will know something. I will love him for your sake, Beatrice, and for you I will help to liberate him." Linda stole softly out and when the door closed behind her Beat- rice left the room and, proceeding through a back hall, opened a door that led into a yard. She called: "Miguel ! Miguel !" An answer came in the strong accents of a man, and presently the owner of the voice appeared. He was of large proportions and tall, with a 1 slight stoop of the shoulders. His whole physique in- dicated great strength and his dress classed him as a mozo of all work. "Miguel, come in; I want to talk to you." The giant followed her into the hall, and at her sign, took a seat. She drew a chair close to him. "Miguel, I am in trouble and want you to help me." "I am your servant, senorita." "But this is something difficult and dangerous." "All the same your servant." "Miguel, you have been with our family since years before my birth; you have been faithful and Don Juan would risk his life for you, as I know you would for him. Promise me now that what I will say to you will not be repeated without my permission." "Your servant promises." "Miguel, you are familiar with the carcel. I have heard you tell stories of the place, and once you said that there was a secret passage from a part of the prison leading to the jailer's quarters." "There is a passage known only to a few. I once helped to repair the cell into which it opens, and 1 although it has been so long ago I beleive that in the dark I could find the stone covering the opening/' "Oh ! Miguel ! Would you go with me to find that opening in the quarters, and when found, would you help undo the way to the cell if I, Beatrice Navarro, were with you by your very side?" "I am your servant, senorita. It will be only necessary to com- mand me." "Here, then, Miguel good Miguel here on this paper I will draw the plan of the carcel. Here is the court; here the hall of the 304 GUY RAYMOND. cells ; here the jailer's quarters ; here is the plan. Now, in which cell is the opening to this secret passage ?" Miguel took the pencil and marked the cell. Then he traced the course of the passageway under the court to the hall in Bonito's quar- ters, where, he informed Beatrice, the other place of exit was to he found. The eyes of Beatrice glistened with satisfaction as she dis- missed tha mozo, and her nervous excitement rose and fell as her active mind was swayed by the passion which completely possessed her. She had not known her love until an appalling danger seemed about to intervene to shut out forever the light whose brilliant elu- cidation but awaited the test that was to fan the already glowing germ. The realization of imminent danger to him who had for days filled her heart with those emotions peculiar to first love, emotions which enter and abide with one, unquestioned and inexplicable, had now brought out the finer elements of character whose possession marked Beatrice as a girl superior to her environments. The warm Castillian blood, the conveyancer of so many charms in both mental and physical development, had been tempered by American educa- tion. The contact with northern character had blended self de- pendence with the indescribable graces and soft manners of an ex- traction that engendered reminiscences of the chivalry of Castile and Aragon. Beatrice was now sure of her position. She loved the youth who was all but a stranger, who had appeared upon the horizon of her affections to shed the radiance that an uncongenial environ- ment had failed to produce. It seemed to her that a great waste, replete with barrenness, stretching out into a dim vista of stunted growth and arid temperature, had suddenly assumed a garb of ver- dure, while the prespect changed to cool retreats, where limipd waters laved the shaded borders of eddying brooks. What wonder, then, that she should be be aroused by a sense of danger threatening the existence of this talismanic change with the prospect of a reversi rendered more distasteful from the contrast. He whom she loved had averted a danger to which she had been exposed, which, but for his heroism, would have resulted in death. Yet it was not for this she loved him. The obligation, perhaps, rendered her passion more comprehensive. Now that he was in danger she had the twofold purpose of love and gratitude to give impetus to her efforts to save him from a pitiless enemy. The f tunate knowledge possessed by Miguel of the secret passage thai e isted in the carcel gave her the power to effect his escape without the sympathy of the jailor, provided he could be riiviim\rn|p programme. Limb' lovecl him. The sharp perception of a woman made this apparent, and her esti- mation of the man she loved \vonld have made her wonder that any woman should fail to love him. Full of these thoughts and brimming with the renewed interest which Guy's danger had awakened, Beatrice sought her room that she might uninterruptedly plot and plan and dream. CHAPTER XL11. So soon as Josefa was left alone on the evening that Ruiz waited for the mantle of darkness to allow him to leave the De la Torre V house without detection, she began to reproach herself for not dot Min- ing him longer. She felt that Ruiz had wronged her and she blamed herself for not having indulged still more extensively in reproaches before allowing him to depart. She was in a mood for fussing and realized to the fullest extent, a mania in which desperation points to the most unwarranted actions. The unrest which seized her with an increasing power finally culminated. A set purpose seemed to possess her. She procured pencil and paper and dashed off several lines which she hurriedly rend, then folded the note. Looking through the rodded window, she called to a boy who stood in the yard below : "Juan ! Juan I" In answer ho approached close io the wall. "Take this to the monle mo" she said, throwing the paper to him, "and when you return i will give you a real." .Josefa busied herself around her apartment as if in preparation for something. She stood before the mirror and combed her short hair over her face, then parting it on the side, she arranged it after the fashion of a cavalier. ''My features will be masculine enough, with the aid of dress, to conceal my true sex, even from him." These word/? were said jusi audibly as she turned her bead from side to side, studying the effect. When she thought it to be about linn 1 for the return of her messenger, she kept on the lookout for him, and before long was rewarded by his appearance with a bundle. She motioned to him to bring it to the front door, and. going down to meet him. was soon back with the package inspecting the content,-. "One tonto!" she exclaimed, as she held up a pair of trousers that were literally strung with glil.lering ornaments. "I would not wear such as these, for I would be a center of at- tra< t ion,"' she decided. on furl her inspection she selected several articles of nn - apparel which seemed to suit better. 306 GUY EAYMOND. "These are more modest and I believe will fit my slight figui to perfection. 77 An hour later Josefa stood before her glass, looking to be a cornel Mexican youth. Her hat sat jauntily upon her head. Her hair, short for a woman, was but little longer than the prescription of the Mexican custom for the sterner sex. The well fitting round-a-bout fell a little below the waist, far enough to well conceal a wide scarlet sash whose ends fell from a knot over the left hip. The pants, close fitting at the belt, fell loosely from the lower limbs and extended far over the neat instep, making the narrow foot look only two-thirds its length. Thus attired Josefa stole noiselessly down the steps and out of the front door into the street. She bent her steps to the principal thoroughfare and before she had well entered it, her gait became steadier from reassurance. She passed boldly on to the bridge that led to the Alameda. Nothing occurred to more than disturb Josefa V equanimity until she reached the bridge where the lights of several eating stands illuminated the sidewalk and were reflected from the walls of the houses. As she paused here to think about her further movements, the figure of a man passed by and as he turned his face to the lights, she recognized the features of Manuel Euiz. Gratified at the discovery she followed him over the bridge and up the steep embankment on the further side. * * * The day after Ducio's interview with the notary he had an appoint- ment at headquarters, and to meet it found himself entering the capacious yard in front of the little building on the river. He foui the lieutenant of the staff and his friend Sancho in consultation the back veranda. "Welcome I" said the lieutenant, as Ducio entered. "Buenas dias," said Sancho. "Senors, I greet you," said Ducio, with a smile. "Be seated, senor. We wanted to hear from you in regard to thi man Raymond, whether you know if he has been communicati] with the enemy." "I have every cause to think so," replied Ducio. "Explain, senor." "He has friends, if not relatives, in the Texas camp and nmf be in communication with them. He knows of their presence thnr and, judging from the fact that he has made no attempt to T believe that he remains here for the purpose of communicati] information to your enemies." GUY RAYMOND. 307 "That would constitute him a spy." "Most assuredly." "Then he should be shot," said Sancho. "Along with Ruiz, whose case is plain," said the lieutenant. "A sharp fellow; he is au fait with the Texan commanders and took active part at Concepcion." "The dastardly traitor," said the lieutenant. "The murderer of Vasquez," chimed in Sancho. "Is it certain that they will be shot?" asked Ducio. "You mean Ruiz and Raymond?" "Those two." "Unlucky R's," said Sancho. "Their fate is sealed. The order for their execution will be issued this week," said the lieutenant, with a pompous air that little accorded with his sqeaking voice. "The general then has decided." "Yes, and the decision is final. Besides General Almonte, who represents El Presidente, has approved it and will not leave the city until after the execution. Almonte says that this Raymond is a splendid actor. He joined his party on the San dreronimo and rep- resented that he had just escaped from the Indians. Almonte was suspicious of him from the first." "Has Almonte heard from Edward Gritton'?" "No. Doubtless the messenger was intercepted." "And Gritton?" "Will fare badly if the dispatches fell into the hands of the rebels But Gritton's action has served the purpose of the government in fur- nishing the names of the leaders to be punished, and I suppose there is little more use for him. Spies run great risks." "And should be well paid." "A precept fulfilled in Gritton's case. But there are spies and spies. Some men risk their lives in the business for love of country." "In which case they must be to the manor born. Gritton is an Englishman." "An Englishman. You could not get one of those infernal Texan- Americans to give the government any information. Sancho, they fill my ideal of the Spartan character." "They are purd dioMos. I will never forget their obstinacy at Concepcion. They have a desperate courage which I class with that of pirates. There is no virtue in it." "It serves the purpose at all events and it will require the presence of El Presidente and his legions to secure to Mexico this empire of : 308 GUY RAYMOND. territory This lost to us will be but the entering wedge to the dismem- berment of our country." "Is there news from the rebel camp later than that brought yoi by this gentleman ?" referring to Ducio. "Yes. Their investment of the place is complete. They are considerable force at the old mill just above on the river. A foraging party from the garrison had a brush with them on the lower road to Matamoras." "Then Almonte will have some trouble in eluding their pickets. If he be captured on the heels of the execution of the two prisoners those devils would resort to lex telionis measures." While the lieutenant and Sancho were thus discussing the mili- tary situation Ducio remained silent, the words of the pair having just interest enough to make their import comprehended, while he mentally evolved the adaptability of what he heard to the furtherance of the schemes matriculated by his late experience. Ducio reflected with no small degree of satisfaction on the decision of the military authority to put to death one of the beneficiaries named by Mr. Trigg in the disposition of the hidden treasure. Not that the execution of Guy Raymond would have any direct bearing on his own fortunes, but it seemed to him that his removal would bo an obstacle loss to his acquisition of the contents of the iron pot. He had not seen the sub- ject of his thoughts, but had hoard the story of his capture, his escape and of his prowess from the lips of Ruiz before he left the Texan camp. The mere existence of an honorable and fearless opponent, no matter how passive ho may be through ignorance of contemplated wrongs or the imminence of danger, is a power whose force is mag- nified in the consciences of the depraved. So Ducio mentally argued that Guv's removal would by some moans accelerate his chances to for- tune. Mr. Trigg's life depended from a thread which a stray bullet from a Mexican musket might snap. Without the papers neither Hamilton nor Perry could solve the riddle of the sand hills. The notary was the custodian of the secret, surreptitiously obtained and with himself alone knew of the existence of the gold which "beneath the cross securely hid" awaited his coming to enrich him. The notary must be removed bv some moans. He could not afford to divide the treasure which luck had brought him; yos, brought him, for it was already within his reach and it now required but his own consummate ability to devise the means to bo used and the time io act. Ducio began to wonder that other men of npnnroui intolligonoe found it so hard to win fortune. A few hours h.-id uol only pul him on the road to wealth, but had disclosed before his -nvdy ga/ rat " GUY RAYMOND. .109 a mass of yellow coins thai of itself constituted I he prize for which millionaires struggle and toil, and to acquire it, use every device known to monopolistic tactics and legalized depredations. The execution of Guy Raymond was favorable. The capture of General Almonte by I he Texans through information furnished by him would give him per- fect freedom within the Texan lines with no cloud upon him for liny- ing been a brief sojourner within the lines of the beso.igod city. If he should do up the notary he must, through prudence, take himself outside of Mexican jurisdiction and drum-head decisions. While the swift justice of the authorities excited his admiration in the cases of the two prisoners, its rigor was clear and alarming when it proposed to be the adjudicator of his own transgressions. Ducio's frails and tendencies were only the world's emphasized. Inductively examined, their germs will be discovered where duty and patriotism have heon rendered comatose by infusions of false ideas in the problems of social life, to the destruction of its true aims, to the subversion of human happiness, to the communism of class. To Ducio the modern soon I drift was apparent. The science of government had been prostituted by the complete ascendency of the properly idea over individual rights. Acquisitiveness had so completely developed in the cranium of the genius of civilization that the well being of humanity had shrivelled into comparative vacuity. In Ducio's conception he had accentuated the social tendency by taking shorter cuts to fortune. I Jobbery is robbery under any guise. It may lie qualified by prefixes to save the qualms of a pharisaical conscience, or it' rnav masquerade in fictions of legislation, yet the essence is there. Land illegally hold in Mort- main became to grasping churchman legal and lucrative in trust. Men often grow rich through murder; it may be of an individual, or it may be of the masses. Tn the latter case it is always legal and, therefore, respectable with perhaps only a score of economists protest- ing against doing by wholesale what is infamous by retail. Elastic minds reconcile the brigandage of class with honesty and plead custom to refute the logic of nature and humanitarianism. Ducio, rascal as he was, had a supreme contempt for those lights of civil i/at ion who upheld the depredations of class and in the same breath denounced the individual robber. He deemed it to be many degrees braver to incur the risk of a direct appropriation of the goods, chattels and money of an individual without the cloak of a logislntivo act or the pursuance of an arbitrary and unnatural custom. He believed that the wrong which would crush thousands was proportionately greater ffnn that which would injure an individual. Ducio, however, was a character who stood not upon the distinctions when the opportunity presented itself to transfer the shekels of another to the pockets oJ Ducio. With a little training he would have made a star in Wall street. In the lobby or in the halls of legislation he would have left the imprint of his peculiar talent on the class legislation of a political system intended to be a model for the imitation of mankind in the construction of governments looking primarily to the freedom of rights and equality of the people. Ducio recognized the truths enunciated by political economists, but it was like the knowledge which the tra- ditional Satan has of the beneficience and power of the Ruler of the universe. Satan prefers the unrest of Hades and grim satisfaction of the exercise of an evil power to the joys of Heaven or the peace of Nirvana. Ducio thought his selfishness would be better subserved with the economies safe in the custody of the colleges and universities. Like Christian ethics, social and political economy were things to be preached and read about but too antagonistic to the present civiliza- tion to be practiced. Therefore Ducio scoffed at the teachings of moralists and economists, and in a species of suave qni pent rush for the smiles of fortune, lie determined to take the short cuts and trust to secrecy of movement to save him from the clutches of the law. CHAPTER XLIII. Ruiz, who had kept upon Ducio Halfen's trail since the latter quitted the Cabeza de Toro in pursuit of the notary, followed him the same night to the house of that functionary. Concealed behind the apartment he witnessed the interview between the two worthies from the rear window and heard most of their conversation. He gleaned the fact that a compromise had been effected between them regarding the paper dropped on the gambling table. He inferred that they had a key to the treasure to which Guy had some claim, but he could not make it clear to himself what it could be. It ap- peared evident that Ducio had had access to some treasure from the number of doubloons he had displayed at the monte table. He could see in Ducio's manner and read in his looks a danger to the notary which the latter did not appear to realize. When the two separated Ruiz resolved to keep watch on the movements of the wily Creole. When he quitted his post as eaves-dropper, he climbed a low wall and found himself in a short alley conned ing Acequia and Soledad streets. As he made his way to the former, so as to enter the plaza at a different point from Ducio, tho figure of a man appeared and lo<>1>d over the wall at the other's retreating form. He sprang lightly over and followed Ruiz to the plaza. Here the unknown stopped and GUY BAYMOND. 311 leaned lightly against the massive masonry of the corner until the re- treating figure was lost in the direction of the Candelario's. "Well, senor Don Manuel Ruiz, you are a puzzle. What your pur- pose here is I am not able to say. Gambling and eaves-dropping are no clear pointers to your mission." Such was the exclamation made in an undertone by the young man with tho scarlet sash who had been following Rniz as he left his po- sition at the corner of the plaza and turned up towards Flores street. "That was a handsome Frenchman," he mused, "and Ruiz was watching him. He had a deal of money. Is perhaps rich. What can Manuel- have to do with him? I saw him once before while I was entering Linda's gate. Such piercing eyes! They say mine arc that way. Dios! What a pair we'd make!" J A ud /lose fa entered her door. Josefa's escapade of the night before could not have produced any remorse of conscience in the bosom of that erratic damsel on a review of her violation of the proprieties, if indeed she took the trouble to reflect on the subject or to estimate the consequences, if anv there might have been, in the event of detection. One thing is certain, that when she first recognized Ruiz at the bridge, she took care io keep him in sight or hailing distance until she turned her steps homeward. Whatever might have been her doubts of her old lover, she had that confidence in his manhood to be sure that no one could have insulted her with impunity while in the radius of his protection. This reflection may have upheld the girl in any nisgivings that chanced to well up unbidden, to deter her from a successful prosecution of her espoinage. She had accomplished noth- ing towards the solution of Ruiz's mission, if that was her object, ff>r an honest inquiry into her own intentions would have disclosed a mental stair- in which jealousy and a discontent with her present humdrum existence were kept astir by a nature full of high-strung amhition. Rui/ was not a necessity to her, yet she felt the influence of the old lie, while she half hated him because he had failed to prove the instrument which was to dispel the cloud hanging over her life. Her facile heart was ready to acknowledge any helpmeet who would promise to guide her in the life-paths, free from the restraint, of certain influences repugnant to her nature. The piercing eves of the Krench man whom she knew not had made an impression on her waxen heart, and their owner would have only to follow up the advantage by a. show of dash and means, to win for himself the ambitious daughter of the |)c la Torres. Josefa's thoughts pursued this very channel from the time of her awaking until an hour rUY later she arose to make her toilet. This she did with all the indo- lence of leisure, until her tardiness invoked a call to the morning meal. A little later a note from the lieutenant, requesting permis- sion to bring a friend to see her, was handed her. Josefa's eye- hrows arched, as she road, in wonder .-is to who the unknown caller was to be. She knew all the gentlemen of the city who would likely be friends of the writer. It could not he Almonte, who was married. It suddenly flashed upon her mind that it might be the stranger with those piercing eyes. She had been told he was a Frenchman. What matter? Nationality is nothing. Push, impudence and means. They were sufficient for the attainment of the ne plus ultra of modern ambition. They wore Ihr triune elements whence were formed the materials of fortune to be acquired without the efforts and the humiliations of labor. The Frenchman was apparently in antagonism with Ruiz. He was welcome at headquarters, which had set a price on Manuel's head. The favorite had been watched by i'ho fugitive at the gambling resort where the former had lovst, with apparently small regret, so much money. Ruiz was not rich, and his treason to his country would impoverish him. The sharp French- man must be well off, and besides Josefa, did not conclude her thought definitely, but allowed her imagination to revel in conclusions, enveloping the dark stranger in a mysticism of character whose blending lights and shadows reflected the varying bents of her own ephemeral purposes. She was not disappointed, when her two callers were announced, to find thai one of them was Ducio Halfen. The latter had been no loss stricken by the appeamnce of Josefa than she was by the easy carriage and flashing eyes of the Creole. A report of the lady's prospects, exaggerated if not untrue, caused him to construe them as worthy of the aspirations of an unprincipled adventurer like him- self and with the idea uppermost in his mind he sought an acquaint- ance with her through the instrumentality of his military friend of the staff. The meeting between the two, from its inception, lacked the stiffness that frequently characterizes the first encounters of the -CMS where a suspicion of interest or design has either mutually or singly existed in the minds of the parties. On the part of Josefa this arose from her natural self-command and art in acting. With. Ducio it was from an innate impudence and lack of any touches of refinement calculated to rebuke evil purposes or excite trepidation. Conscience- he had none. The call extended longer than interviews of such a preliminary nature usually last, and when Ducio left he T GUY RAYMOND. 313 promised to return again in the afternoon for a walk. The lieu- tenant was ignored in the arrangement. In the afternoon the engagement for the walk was fulfilled. Josef a 's knowledge of the city and its environs constituted her the guide for the occasion. They followed the banks of the river until the line of pickets intercepted their further progress towards its source; then crossing a rude footbridge, they traversed the fields until the Alamo, with its weather-beaten walls, rose boldly into view. "Would you like to take a look at the country from the top of the Alamo?" she asked of Ducio. 'I should like it extremely well," he replied. "And we may a sight of the Texans, Avho are said to be much nearer town, at an old mill just above on the river." "You said you were in their company for a while, before entering here. Are they the terrible characters that we hear described?" hey are devils to fight. As to character, they represent every of life, the farmer, the doctor, the lawyer, the mechanic, the merchant, the clerk and the adventurer, and of course are made up of good, bad and indifferent men like one will find among all such gatherings of humanity." They reached the church in a short time and by a rather difficult ascent found themselves upon the walls of the edifice which was des- tined so soon to become famous throughout the world as the Ther- mopolae of America, reserving for itself a distinction which in later years a patriotic Texan expressed in the memorable words: Kriiermopolae had her messenger of defeat the Alamo had none." o the north the course of the river was marked by a line of timber. Chaparral, denuded of foliage, stood in clusters or extended in stretches with alternations of openings in which the grass still showed spots of green among the gray and taller growth. There Y..IS a, sleepy look in the prospect. The background of hills raised their blue summits in successive ranges until the whole was capped by the rocky elevation whose tree-clad summit marked the spot where the swift running Olmus burst suddenly from its limestone prison, to run its short course through glassy lakes and eddying pools, rip- pling rapids and winding currents, until its crystal \\aters were lost in those of the San Antonio. The old mil] which the Texans were i (-ported to have occupied was just visible on the right bank of the liver. A horse or two just beyond, a faint indication of smoke a shado heavier than the hazy atmosphere, were the sole inductions presenting themselves to the vision, to show that the rebel Tex-ms 314 GUY RAYMOND. were in the vicinity. To the left and west lay the town a materialized monotony of low walls, with occasional reliefs of adobe and tul( where stood the jacals of the poorer class. Ducio asked half inquir- ingly : "In your Monterey home you had finer scenery than this ?" "Oh, there it is grand; the city is in the very lap of the moun- tains. All around they lift their great heads towering far above the valley, while their sides are a picture of perpetual green." "You would like to return to a place doubtless filled with memo- ries as pleasant as the scenery is grand would you not ?" "Yes, but "But?" "I would not return alone. My relatives are few, confined in fact, to a mother and uncle, and they are not congenial." "Not congenial ?" "Both are good to me both are bigots, and move in the narrow sphere circumscribed by the rigor and rules of the church. I crave liberty at any cost. I would rise above all restraint, all rules, all conventionalities, and live the life best suited to the happiness of beings who know no future existence and believe that they are here with the full right to employ all the traits, which distinguish them from the lower animals, for their gratification and pleasure." "You then stand in need of a friend. My ideas run in the same grooves. Could we be friends?" "Why not?" "There may be barriers. For instance, my stay here is limited. Two more suns may not see me in Bexar." "So soon?" "Yes, business calls me away. To linger here might cost me a fortune, although I might win the prize of your friendship." "You have been left some property?" "Yes no not by will or legacy, but my presence elsewhere will bring me to a fortune, that I could not realize or secure by a delay of many more days in this queer city." "You would be unwise to delay your going in that case but, senor you may return and then and then "And then?" "We could be friends." "And go to Monterey?" Josefa looked away as if at a loss to answer. "To Monterey or elsewhere if " "Well?" j. " A I GUY RAYMOND. 315 "If I were free to go and you desired to go with me." Ducio would have replied if a noise had not claimed their atten- tion. It was the step of Father Ignacio, who seeing Josefa in com- pany with a stranger, while he was passing, mounted to the top of the building. "It is my uncle," said Josefa in an undertone. "The priest!" exclaimed Ducio. "The priest," said Father Ignacio in a tone of reply. And he continued: "You are sight-seeing, Josefa? And who is this gentleman, your escort?" "I am rather his escort, uncle. This is Senor Half en, a stranger whose acquaintance I have made. Senor Halfen, this is Father Ignacio." The men bowed. "I have heard of you Father." nd I of you, sir. You are the Frenchman." have a French passport." t is all the same, senor, but- tell, me how is it that you make Senor Raymond a spy?" "Those are my suspicions." "But, my dear senor, he is not. He entered San Antonio with me, just escaped from Indian captivity, and did not even know that there was trouble between Mexico and the colonists. I am afraid, senor, that you have done a great injury to a young man whom I have found to be the soul of honor. Even my influence cannot change the attitude of the authorities towards him, and your evidence is counted strongly against him." Father Ignacio spoke with feeling, for being a true type of honor- able manhood, he despised the malignity that prompted persecution of innocence. Ducio replied : "I gave my views in his case not voluntarily. I merely replied to questions and .what I stated was my consciencious opinion. I do not care to be lectured upon the subject and trust your reverence will take the hint." "Your impudence does not match your nationality. French gen- tlemen are usually respectful to priests." "Let us go, Senorita De la Torre. I would not let this grow into a quarrel," said Ducio. "It will not be a quarrel, senor, for I am going myself. Josefa, you have congenial company I perceive. I congratulate you." 316 GUY RAYMOND. "Thank you, uncle," she replied ironically. Then in a kind tone, as if to bridge over the situation, she continued: "But where have you been out this way? You positively I fatigued." "Oh! My major domo, Jose, has disappeared and is not to found inside of the lines. It is certainly a mystery. Between his disappearance and Senor Raymond's trouble, I have had no peace of mind. I have exhausted my fund of influence and now I have but one recourse, and that is to my God. If prayers and masses will avail, not a hair of this gentle youth shall be harmed. I feel sure that God's power will avert the danger which menaces him. He is a noble youth, Josefa." Josefa's reflections were multitudinous when she found herself at home again alone. Her companion of the walk was sympathetic and her uncle had dubbed him a congenial one. There was much truth in his remark and it eminently fitted her previous declaration to Ducio that she desired a congenial friend. This Halfen had an external respectability that would meet the requirements of society. His principles might be anything, all the better if they were anti- religious, so far as she was concerned. The cloud over his possesssion of gold which Manuel's musings had raised had not been cleared away by his explanation that he must leave Bexar to secure his expec- tancy. If wealth was to be his or if he had it already secured, by fair means or foul, que importa, society would not stop to inquire before extending its hand. If her uncle had not interrupted their quiet tete-a-tete on the top of the old mission, much of the unce tainty as to their future might have been dissipated by the utteran of a few more words. How much better was Guy Raymond than Ducio Halfen? His honor had landed him in jail. Ducio was free, and fortune was extending to him her arms. She did not begrudge him a tithe of the help to be expected from the mumblings of the mass or the telling of beads. She would not utter an Ave, even if it could save him, save him to Beatrice Navarre. CHAPTER XLIV. fvrsis- Ruiz had kept upon the trail of Ducio Halfen with such persis tency that he was perfectly posted as to his movements. He had detected the sudden acquaintance and growing intimacy between him and Josefa, but of course he was at a loss to know what transpire at their interviews. In forty-eight hours they were together fo :: GUY RAYMOND. 317 times, and he believed that no good result would follow in the steps of his old fiancee. He had been disappointed in his calculations for assistance from the Texan camp to carry out his part of the pro- gramme that had brought him to the city. He had communicated his readiness twice through paid messengers, to co-operate with the promised aid, yet the assurance of its coming had failed to reach him. He was at great risk of detection, which was only deferred by reason of the mistaken identity which was costing Jose his liberty. One night, it was the third after Ducio's interview with the notary, Euiz discovered the Creole passing along the east side of the plaza, and supposing that his destination was the house of the De la Torres he followed him. The so-called Frenchman moved with an apparent caution that had not been characteristic of his manner on any previous occasion, while under the surveillance of Ruiz. His entrance into Soledad street banished the first idea in Ruiz's mind that Ducio contemplated a visit to Josef a, but he felt sure now that the notary was to be honored by an interview with his confederate in the mystery of the paper. A minute later this was verified by Ducio's light rap at the door of the notary, who presently atmitted him. Ruiz began to deliberate on the advisability of playing eaves- dropper, feeling half ashamed of the role. But it was evident that the villains were bent on some mischief, and as Guy Raymond ap- peared interested in some manner, he finally concluded to prosecute the espionage in the hope to serve his friend. Accordingly he gained, by easy steps, his old position at the rear window, and through a small aperture left by the fold of an improvised curtain he had a pretty good survey of the room. Halfen's face was fully visible as he sat opposite the notary, who only disclosed a side view as he occa- sionally moved his head. Their tones were low at first and, from the catches that reached the listener's ears, were on commonplace topics, foreign to the undoubted purpose of the interview. Once he caught the name of Josef a accompanied by a rascally expressive smile on Ducio's physiognomy. Finally the conversation became more earn- est and serious, and erstwhile a whole sentence would reward Manuel's patience. This came from Ducio: "But as to the division, my friend, that must depend upon the amount of trouble and risk * * * *" This from the notary: "But the papers must remain in my possession" * * * * "They are my security." * * * * Ducio demanded the papers of the notary for inspection, but the latter was positive in his declination to accede to it. 318 GUY RAYMOND. nd he "You should be satisfied/ 7 he insisted. Finally Ducio agreed to all the notary insisted upon, and assumed an accommodating air until he rose to depart. He held out his hand, which the notary took, and things appeared to be smoothed over between the confederates. At his caller's 'request the notary proceeded to let him out in the street. In doing so he turned his back to Ducio, who, seizing the opportunity, struck him on the head with something that felled him to the floor. The assassin lost no time in repeating his deadly blows upon the prostrate form of his victim. The execution of the deed required but an instant. The wretch stood over his fallen partner in crime a moment, then stoop- ing, went through his pockets. The contents he examined by the light on the table, casting now and then furtive glances at the win- dows. Finally he gave vent to an exclamation of satisfaction as he finished the examination of a paper. "This is the document," he said. "And now I will be gone." Hastily extinguishing the light, he made his way out of the front door and stole cautiously down the street. Ruiz was amazed at what he had witnessed and half regretted that he did not rush to the notary's assistance. But he was in the city incognito and it would have been folly to have so acted. Besides, both parties were conspirators, and he felt that retributive justice would yet overtake the murderer. Dangerous as it was, he could not refrain from entering the office to view the body and see if life was extinct. So noiseless had been the whole proceeding that no cry was uttered and save the thud which came from the fall of the light form of the victim, nothing had been heard to indicate an altercation ir the interview so amicably begun. The real danger then, which Manuel could apprehend, would be from a chance discovery of his presence in a compromising position and the circumstance used as potential- evidence of his complicity. An arrest would also lead to his identi- fication, which should have really constituted his cause for alarm. At any rate, he did not allow himself time for reflection on these subjects, but soon found himself in the room and darkness. This was a dilemma. He however felt around for the body, which he care- fully manipulated to discover any signs of life. No respiration no pulse. The repose of the limp form was the repose of death. The head had received the fatal blow. Through the crushed skull the life blood still flowed upon the floor, forming a pool into which Manuel accidentally placed the fingers of his hand. He withdrew them with a shudder and was careful to avoid getting upon his shoes or -clothing the red evidence of crime. This Ducio Half en was GUY RAYMOND. 319 criminal of the worst type,, lie thought, as lie wended his way along the street. What terrible company was such a man for a female of gentle birth, or with any claims to virtuous womanhood. He thought of Josef a and her intimacy with the fiend who had just taken human life for the possession of a piece of paper. Bonito's name had been thrice mentioned in connection with this business, as was also Guy Raymond's. Would it not be well to apprise the jailer? Full of this last idea Ruiz turned towards the carcel. No--- there was the sentinel pacing his post, an obstacle in the way. He would enter by Linda's garden. It was late, but the business was urgent. Before he realized it he was at the door in the wall. It was locked. The wall was high, but he would try it. Placing his hand upon the exten- sion of the low arch, he gave one vigorous spring and caught the top of the wall with the other. A few scrambles and he bestrided it almost out of breath with the exertion. He let himself down into the garden and approaching the door of the apartment he hesitated. The thinly curtained window disclosed a light- within. Linda had not retired so much the better. His light knock sounded strangely distinct in the quiet of the night. The footsteps he heard just before hi- summons at once ceased. Was Linda frightened? He would not knock again. He called: "Linda! Linda!" "Quien es?" "Yo Manuel Manuel Ruiz." Purely the voice "of Manuel/' she replied, "but Manuel is in ill." "Escaped, however. Deja, me entrar." "What would you here this time of night? A fugitive from my father would find a poor asylum with his daughter." "You should know, Linda, that I mean well. Your father's in erestfe, perhaps his life, may depend upon my seeing you this night. Abra la puerta," The door just cracked a little and when Linda had ocular proof of Ruiz's identity it opened and the caller crossed the threshold. "What, Manuel! Blood on your hands!" "True, the stains are there yet. A little water, Linda, and I will remove the traces." As Ruiz cleaned his hands in 'Linda's basin he exacted of her a promise of secrecy as to his -visit and in regard to whatever he might, impart. He then seated himself and recounted what he had witnessed at the notary's office, together with all that he knew of the existence and character of the document causing the homicide. 320 GUY EAYMOND. Linda knew nothing definite of Bonito's business. He was o: with the notary, who attended to all papers requiring attestation besides giving her father the benefit of his legal attainments. Whi the two were imparting to each other all they knew in regard Bonito's danger on the one hand and his habits on the other, Manu had several times heard a shuffling noise in the hall, not unlike the jailer's steps, but more labored, as if he were experiencing some diffi- culty in his movements. This finally aroused Ruiz's curiosity. "Is that your father in the hall?" Linda, looked troubled, and it was a moment before she replied: "Father has locked me in here to conceal his work. He has been busy, repeatedly passing back and forth, as you have heard, since dark." "What can it mean?" "I cannot say. Oh, Manuel! He is a strange man. He loves money and saves every centado. That he has money hid away I am certain, but he has hinted that he has been robbed, and I believe right now he is making some disposition of his treasure, to better conceal it." "Robbed lately?" "Just four days ago." "For Dios ! The Frenchman." "He who murdered ?" "Lo mismo." "That accounts for the gold lost at the Cabeza de Toro." "You'd make a nice little detective, Linda." "But you spoke of Senor Raymond, Manuel." "They intimated that he must be put out of the way, but exp the authorities to attend to that." "But, Manuel " Linda's voice was strong in protest, her eyes suffused with tea and her head sank forward as her extended hand touched the shoulder of her friend. "I know what you would say, Linda, We all love him and if there be any virtue in human effort after every available influen has been exhausted without effect, he shall not meet the death se tence of these miserable tyrants. Linda, we may ask your passi assistance." "My assistance? I would do much to save him. I am a frail woman, it is true, but I have the will to serve him that would mate the strength of giants. Oh! Manuel, I am not ashamed to say 11 GUY RAYMOND. 321 love him that I love him without one act of his to encourage the affection." "He is a lucky fellow. Yet again unlucky, for it is little less than murder to blight the love of a woman." "It is no fault of his, Manuel, to know him is to love him." "Then tomorrow night, if I and others seek your aid to free Guy Eaymond, you will freely give it?" "Trust me, Manuel. Only be sure of yourself." "Now, Linda, I will go, but you must warn your father of this Frenchman, and if you repeat to him what you have heard from me, perhaps he will know more of the danger to be expected than I could tell him/ As Manuel left- the room to make his exit from the garden, the heavy shuffle in the hall again attracted his attention. He nodded knowingly to Linda, while he motioned his hand in the direction of the noise. Linda followed him to let him into the street. Ducio, like criminals generally, was too much wrought up by his act to have any very definite idea of what his next step was to be. He turned the corner to the right when he reached the plaza and drew himself close into the recess of the first door he came to. Here he endeavored to muster some degree of that coolness which was peculiarly his on all but extraordinary occasions, in order that he might determine between the comparative conditions of safety promised by flight on the one hand, and by an assumption of inno- cence and a longer sojourn in the city on the other. Whatever might have been the nature of the decision that was to result from Ducio's perturbed cogitations, he was destined to be cut short in them by the sound of footsteps, followed by the passing of the owner of the feet, who almost brushed the facings of the door- way which concealed him. "It is my evil genius," thought Ducio. "It is that fellow with the long beard. It is strange how I always encounter him." Without definitely deciding to do so, he followed Ruiz with his eyes through the darkness, and then stealthily in person with eal-like steps. "I'll watch what this fellow is up to, anyway," he said to himself. As has been already related, Ruiz turned his steps finally to the jailer's home to interview Linda. Ducio witnessed the scaling of I he wall and concluded it must be an affair of the heart that impelled the act. "This fellow must be a suitor of Linda's," was the Creole's con- lie thought of the doubloons in Bonito's vault. These were 322 GUY RAYMOND. brighter to him than Linda's eyes. He envied the chance of the fellow who had just disappeared over the wall, and thought how he could turn it to advantage if he could play the suitor and get another grip on the gold. Bonito must have recovered from the blows on the head. He had kept it dark. Wise Bonito ! The story of the assault would have been the story of possession. The old miser! The fellow with the long beard had been received perhaps with open arms, for he had heard voices and then all was quiet. He put his hand on the arch. One spring and he missed the top. The other fellow did it. Another trial and the adventurer gained the wall. He surveyed the garden for a moment and then dropped over. Everything was quiet in the little enclosure. Linda's shrubs and flowers were the sole occupants. In the further corner was a tall banana plant whose broad blades cast a dense shadow. As Ducio took in the scene his first idea was to conceal himself here and await events. His patience was equal to the occasion. The long interview between Linda and her visitor at length terminated, and he drew himself closer under his shelter as he saw the two emerge from the house and move slowly, while they conversed, towards the exit to the plaza. "Oh, Manuel !" he heard the girl say. "Do all you can for Senor Raymond." "Rest assured Linda, on that point. Before tomorrow's sun will have set you will hear from me." Linda stood in the doorway while she talked in lower tones to her departing visitor, and Ducio, who had been looking with longing eyes into the now vacant apartment, thought the opportunity an ex- cellent one in which to slip into it unseen and be that much nearer the depository of Bonito's wealth. He had formed no plan, no definite course to pursue, but seemed to have abandoned himself to the suc- cessive impulses that grew out of the opportunities of the hour. Therefore, under the direction of the genius of evil, Ducio found himself gliding into Linda's room with the noiseless movements of a cat. The pure atmosphere of the virgin apartment was defiled the villain's respiration. It was as the mixing of the noisome vapor of the marsh with the perfume of the flower-clad valley; the invasion of Satan into an Eden of purity. With a hasty glance about him he tried the door which Linda had stated to Ruiz had been lockec by her father, to keep her from interrupting his operations. Tl door was fastened. There was no time to lose. He must conce* himself or the screams of Linda on her return would recall tl visitor from whom she was parting, back to her assistance. He ha< but two retreats in which to hide. One, under the bed; the other im eal the iad GUY RAYMOND. 323 behind a curtain at one end of the room, which depended before a recess in which were hung some articles of female attire. He chose (lie latter as the one best calculated to afford him a view of the H'iiorita's movements. He had scarcely concealed himself behind the curtain before Linda entered and closed and fastened her door. Wo- manlike, her first act on turning from the door was to take a look at herself in .the little mirror which overlooked her modest dressing table. She gave a little sigh as she turned away from the glass, but instead of Buiz, the form of Guy was in her mental vision. As it was late, Linda made preparations to retire and was soon attired in her snowy nightdress, little suspecting that her movements had been subjected to the vile scrutiny of the wretch who had betrayed Guy Raymond. She walked restlessly for a moment to and from the door leading to the hall and would stop and listen a while as if to hear the noise of Bonito's movements. No sounds came from the hall. Finally she drew near the bedside and falling upon her knees she made the sign of the cross and began saying her prayers. As her petition rose silently to the God of her religion, was it a halo that shone about her temples, or was it only the light from the lamp lluii 1 glistened as it was reflected from her smooth black tresses? Her position kneeling above the soft folds of her couch, with a proper com prehension of the faith implied by the act of prayer, and the air of purity that pervaded the virgin sanctum lent an inspiration to the scene that impressed even the callous heart of the rascal whose scrutiny was little less than the rape of virtue. As she was rising from her knees, the hall door suddenly opened and Bonito poked in his head. "Linda, I have finished what I was doing. I am tired, Linda very tired, and if I sleep too soundly to hear a call listen Linda; if I am hard to wake, call me. Como estoy fatigado!" The jailer slammed the door, but did not lock it. Linda fixed her light for a taper and went to bed. Ducio poked his head out from behind the curtain several times before ho ventured to leave his concealment. He watched the repos- ing figure of the girl and listened to her breathing for some time before ho concluded that nature had yielded to the claims of slumber and that Linda was in the land of dreams. When thus convinced, 1 1' 1 irluled from the recess and taking the dim light from the table, In- approached the bed and held it close to the face of the sleeper. She was in deep sleep. The long, black lashes rested far upon the ron IK If 1 cheek. One arm lay in naked beauty half circling her da inly head, while ihe other crossed the fair bosom that rose and fell 324 GUY RAYMOND. with her respiration. The eyes of the intruder feasted upon the scene as, with left arm uplifted to hold the light, he bent forward in con- templation of the Hebe-like tableau. The twitchings of his features as his eyes wandered from the couch around the room with a glare that depicted fierce conflicting passions, indicated the battle raging within between evil purposes, alike criminal, but disproportionate in the enormity of their commission. Beauty or booty, fhe weak side of Ducio's nature necessarily succumbed to a combination of purposes which controlled, if it did not smother the more brutal instinct. Discovery in such a place would be ignominious defeat, and would perhaps lead to detection of his latest crime. The hope of escape and the passion for plunder proved indirectly the protectors of sleep- ing beauty. Ducio replaced the light and opened the hall door. It made a noise, but not enough to disturb the sleeper. The hall was dark. He remembered where Bonito kept the candles. He relied upon his memory and the chance that the jailer had made no changes in the disposition of his room. He had a mind to take Linda's lamp, but feared if she awoke and found no light she would become sus- picious that all was not right, and if he should take it into 'Bonito's room that worthy might be awakened by it and be curious to know the nature of the intrusion. Ducio's decision was wise, at least he so concluded when, after gaining Bonito's room, he heard him say: "The monte pio is not robbed never robbed no mas Bonito qi m-a-la fortuna. !" It was evident to the intruder that these words were uttered sleep and the regrets of the poor old miser were merged into dreai of his losses. "I will give him more cause to dream if I can just find a candle," thought the villain. At length Ducio found the desired candle and lost no time returning to get a light from Linda's taper. He shut the door afi him as he came out, and then proceeded to detect the open sesan to the vault below. The lounge was there. He lifted the blanket an( after a search discovered the hair cord. One pull and the end the mattress folded back and disclosed the descent. Down the stej the adventurer proceeded slowly. What was it on the steps? stooped and picked up a handful of sand and dirt. On inspectk he found that the same substances were scattered all the way down. He wondered what it could mean. On reaching the floor below he found that sand and dirt were scattered here and there mixed wi bits of stone. He looked for the chest. It stood a little further The sight of it caused his heart to beat faster. He pulled froi : GUY KAYMOND. 325 his pocket the knife he had used on the other occasion and stooping over to unlock the spring he found that there would be no necessity for the knife, as the chest was not locked. The discovery weakened him. Not locked ! He hesitated then raised the lid. The chest was empty. CHAPTEE XLV. From the day that Bonito was resuscitated from the effects of the blow inflicted by Ducio Half en in the vault, he had not been, to all appearances, the same man. He mechanically went through the rou- tine of his prison duties, but all vestige of his humor or his crabbed- ness had given place to a settled melancholy that depicted itself in expression and action. He had said more to Guy than to anyone else. To Linda he merely hinted at a loss and she, accustomed to his freaks, did not press him for an explanation. He tired of trying to solve the enigma of the discovery of the entrance to the vault, and thought constantly of what he should do with the treasure in the chest. He would repair to the vault and sit for an hour contem- plating the great burden to his peace of mind and trying to devise some means for its better security. It* was on one of these occasions that after much torturing deliberation Bonito hit upon a plan. At any rate he rose from his stool suddenly, and said in a tone, much more cheerful than he had of late employed in his solitary talks : "I will do it and this very day." It was the same day that Ducio dealt the fatal blow that sent the notary to his long account. Bonito began to carry out his purpose at once. He conveyed to the vault the necessary tools for his work and timed his operations so as not to be missed from his post. He carefully marked out a space in the side wall, and began to cut deeply around the line. From the way he handled his hatchet and pick and chisel and mallet he was no novice in the matter. By the early afternoon he had effected an excavation which seemed to satisfy him as to dimension-, but he had all around him a quantity of debris whose presence would indicate to those aware of his possessions the place of their conceal- ment. Bonito was equal to the occasion. Under the stimulus of his ruling passion the flabby anatomy became strong and muscular. He decided to carry the last vestige of the signs of his work to the region above, after he had securely walled up the opening and the doubloons in it. When the hoard was secured behind the replaced 326 GUY RAYMOND. masonry he painter! the mortar-filled cracks so as to resemble undisturbed mass around it. Now began the tired miser's real w Up the steep ste{ s lie had to carry, box full at a time, the sand, dirt and crumbled rock, and it was on these trips from the vault, bending under the loads of dirt, that Bonito made the shuffling, labored steps that excited Unix's attention while he was interviewing Linda. The miser was worn with fatigue when he fetched his last boxful], "and he deferred until the morrow a final sweeping of steps and floor. He felt sure that he had not been observed, and Linda, locked in her room, could have been the only one who had heard the little noise he had made. The strain removed from the miser's mind by the fancied safety of his gold ensured him a rest, which .he had not experienced since his robbery. Now he could dream of griefs, which erstwhile had prevented his slumber. He envied the monte pio, who was never robbed, and the beggar at the church door, who had nothing to lose. He had formed something of an attachment for the young American who was his prisoner for the second time, but a stern fact had intervened to wipe from the tablet the record of the feeling. The miser's heart knew no lasting love save for his gold. Guy had rescued him perhaps saved him but with him rested the knowledge of his hoard. For this crime, El Pajarro might be shot for all he cared. Since his late concealment of the treasure he had softened, but so little that he still felt callous as to Guy's fate. Poor Bonito ! Of such how many are there in the world who make pretensions to Christian virtue and moral worth ? Callous to human woe, indifferent to human rights, forgetful of moral aims, ready to sacrifice friendship, love and truth on the altar of Mammon, they are more to be loathed than the Bonito of our story, whose ignorance and obscurity debarred him from all con- ception of the feelings incident to the refinement of culture and a true philanthropy. Father Tgnacio had become so worried at the continued absen of Jose that it was deemed best to make known to the good priest the true state of affairs. Jose himself became so apprehensive nbont the trouble and annoyance of his master in regard to himself that he added by his entreaties to the determination of Guy Raymond divulge the secret to his reverend friend. He felt sure of the goo I'a flier's fidelity to* his professed friendship, and that Ruiz upon hi request would not be betrayed to his enemies. Accordingly the ne was communicated and the same day the good father visited the cell :.(! hi- ws GUY RAYMOND. 327 and had a long interview with the two prisoners. The visit was one of great consolation to the major domo, who had no peace of mind under Hie pre-existing conditions of his confinement. To Guy the presence of the priest was cheering inasmuch a's it proved a continued interest for his welfare and besides afforded him a respite from the monotony of confinement and the narrow channel of discussion through which, perforce, flowed the stream of conversation with the simple Jo-e. The reverend visitor left him in a more cheerful M'.-ile of mind, notwithstanding the former's assurances that his fate was sealed so far as the military were concerned. While thus destroy- ing whatever hope that may have lingered with the prisoner, the father gave him to understand that he must prepare to effect, by ic means, an escape from the carcel. While imparting the latter advice his (one and manner were plainly indicative that a powerful, and no doubt successful, attempt would be made to wrest him from ilie hands of his would-be executioners. On his way to the pla/a. Father Ignacio stopped at ( 'andelario's. The latter was engrossed in her a vocaiion as concocter of peppery viands for the general public, and failed to note the presence of the other, until he said in his cheery voice: "( 'andelario siempre trabajando \" She turned quickly and with an obesiance asked the priest's bless- ing, which he gave her with a smile and a gentle tap on her cheek. "Si, senoiy" she replied. "Always at work. T have only Carlo to help me and mv custom has become over large/' "You would grow rich, senora, if it were not for your charitable heart/' "It is true that T make money, your worship, but T do not, care to save it. If T put it to good use it will be treasure laid up in her von. The church has need of money and T never refuse my lilile mite. 'Besides, poor Oandelario, who is now suffering ihe pains of purgatory, has need of assistance in the way of monthly masses for hi< -oul and in the good deeds which God permits me 1o perform/' "Your husband was not worthy of you, but you are to be honored for your noble efforts to shorten his term of punishment in I lie (lames of purgatory/' "There can he no doubt he is in purgatory, mi padre?" "It, is not for us to judge. He received the last sacraments?" "Todos." '-Then, if truly repentant, he is now atoning for his sins in the flanus of purgation." 328 GUY EAYMOND. "And the masses will shorten his sufferings by many years?" "Hija mia, we cannot tell. It may be that your husband's so is now with God. An hour in purgatory may seem like a year. T pains are quite equal to those of hell and a moment of torture app to the poor soul like an age. The sufferings from the flames are n all ; but are only second to those which arise from an acute conscio ness of the enormity of sins which have been committed in the flesh, and the displeasure they have caused the Heavenly Father." "Then my husband may be released," said the woman with a brightening countenance. "But," she continued, "I will not run any risk by stopping the masses, or my prayers for his soul." "A proper spirit, nina, for if his soul has been released, the masses will not be said in vain, but will be credited to other poor souls whose friends on earth are not so fortunate as yourself." "A wise arrangement of the church," she said, with a grateful look at the priest. "Rather a beneficient provision of God through the church mili- tant," explained the father. "God is not willing that any good act should be lost. Every act of faith or charity is like the good seed which springs up in good soil and is fostered throughout its growth by an environment absolutely congenial to its perfect development." Candelario was gratified by the explanation and realized a feel ing of moral excellence, in his approval of her good deeds, th brought with it resignation to her husband's supermundane fortun and to her own widowed state. To his inquiry she informed him that she ministered to the wants of the young American prisoner as well as to those of the major domo, and was being satisfactorily remunerated for what she did. After bestowing his parting blessing on the charitable widow, Father Ignacio returned to his residence full of meditations about the disparities existing in human dispositions. He had not far travel from the saint to the sinner. Crime stalked by the side virtue. From identical mental structures issued perfect faith a agnosticism, clear religious perception and contradictory scientific deduction, traditionary proofs and the ccmtnirirf irJ;im-f to your friend, Mr. Trigg-, as a report reached UK,-, tlirmns, strongly guarded at all points against the invasion of every character of force, that should menace them by field or road or foot- path. Mexican shrewdness did not suspect the presence of a boat, where no such contrivance had been known to exist in all the archives of Bexar from the time the first Franciscan had planted his foot upon the banks of the picturesque San Antonio, down to the present administration. And perhaps a chapter quite diverse in its details from the present record would have added more tragedy to the story of Guy Raymond if among the rebel Texans there had not been numbered a clever boat maker, who employed some of his spare hours in his favorite occupation. The result was the production of a very sightly boat, superior in its excellence to the results promised by the materials obtainable for its construction. The idea of using the boat was conceived by Ruiz, while he was maturing a plan to ({jiry out the mission entrusted to him by the Texan commander. The rescue of the young American prisoner was but an incident, rMllin.ir in MS a parallel, a necessity presenting itself and appealing to \\batever of human feeling lay within the hearts of the adven- turous spirits who were to constitute the media for the prosecution 338 GUY EAYMOND. of the original purpose. Ruiz's idea at once commended itself to the commander, and as Guy's fate had become blended with the outcome of the project, the former had urged the selection of Karnes and the members of the mess who had, through Mr. Trigg, become more than interested in the fortunes of the youthful prisoner. P dilections of such a nature, Ruiz philosophically contended, would additional force towards a successful accomplishment of the dual purpose, and in the estimation of the generous Mexican, the minor and incidental aim of the expedition had absorbed in importance its previous object. The little boat sped onward. The injunction to keep silent had been heeded by the men, even by Hamilton, who more than once was tempted to say something at the expense of his comrade's oarsman- ship. Indeed, he did whisper once or twice to Jones, when the latter awkwardly nudged him with his elbow, while bringing his oar handle too low on the breast: "Come, Jones, remember the Bast Indian stroke deeper blade and higher handle. My ribs won't stand two more pokes/' "Silence there, Mr. Hamilton ! Raise your oar, sir quick, and duck your heads there. A little more and that limb would have raked the boat." Karnes' warning came just in time to prevent an accident. In- deed, the darkness hanging over the river was almost impenetrable. The starlight could not counteract the shadows from the banks and foliage, only a silver glow showed itself above, the contemplation of which but augmented the difficulty of seeing surrounding objects. "I heerd a voice, Karnes," said Nathan, from the bow of the boat. "Hark! Men, lay upon your oars," commanded Karnes, in firm undertone. All was silent. The boat, which had just entered a wide wate hole, deep and almost still, was left to spend its momentum, until it hardly moved. Karnes controlled the course with his paddle, but so noiselessly that the breaking of a twig on the bank was clear and distinct to the ear. Still further cautions for silence were whispered from the stern to the bow. Roach had the Indian ears of the party. He alone had heard the voice. All but Karnes doubted his correctness. He had served with Nathan and had learned to respect his ears. After a few minutes' suspense, the Mexican guide Leaned over to the commander and whispered: "The picket is camped upon the bank. Better keep quiet while longer." The moments dragged. : le GUY RAYMOND. 339 Finally the party were startled by the sound of voices in the Mexican tongue. "What was it?" "I was sure I heard something." "What was it like?" "Like a paddle or oar against a boat, and it seemed to me I saw ^something a little lighter than the shadows pass along." "Que tonto! Don't you know these people up here never had a boat? If there is a boat in Bexar I have yet to see it. It is one of your visions, Santos. You are always seeing things." "There is no mistaking the noise made in a boat on the water. A fellow's eyes and imagination may deceive him, but his ears are apt to be correct." "That comes of you being once a sailor. Sailors are supersti- tious. Come, let us pack the water up the bank, for it is nearly time for us to go on guard." Nathan had correct ears after all, and it was well that silence reigned in the boat, as the speakers on the bank had maintained a death-like quiet, in order to confirm Santo's first impression. No other sounds having succeeded, Santos' companion disclosed their presence by his question. The water carriers indicated their progress up the bank by their lessening voices, which finally died out in the distance. Karnes, having waited for this moment, now slowed the boat along until it had made a headway of a hundred yards or more. "Now, boys, pull steadily and quietly." Hamilton answered in a whispered "Aye, aye, sir." "No need of answering, sir. We are past the pickets, and now, Nathan, keep your ears and eyes open for anything that may turn up." "Mr. Guide, are we near the place?" inquired Karnes of the Mexican. "Another bend in the river." "Put your hand on my knee when we get to the right place." The bend was rounded. A swift current swept them past a rapid, the boat's bottom grazed the rocky bed, and they glided into a body of water whose smooth surface reflected the sparkling firma- ment. The guide's hand was placed upon the commander's knee. Karnes put two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. A voice from the right bank called: "Karnes." The answer given was: 340 GUY BAYMOND. "Kuiz." "Hold up, Mr. Jones; Mr. Hamilton, pull away." The boat swung around to the right, "Now, both together." The bow grated upon the sand and pebbles. Nathan ashore and grasped Euiz by the hand. "Hold her to the bank, boys. I must have a talk with our man* before we go further. Keep quiet and you'll soon know the road we've got to follow." So saying, Karnes left the boat, greeted Euiz cordially, and took him aside for consultation. CHAPTEE XLVIIT. The day on which Father Ignacio called at the carcel he remained sufficiently long to encroach upon the dinner hour of that institution, much to the annoyance of the irascible jailer, who upon this particu- lar time was anxious to have the hour go by speedily, and had ac- tually anticipated noon by twenty minutes of the sun dial. "These padres are like old women ; they never know how long they stay to gossip, senor," Bonito said to Guy, as he placed Candelario's basket in the cell. "What can it matter to you, Bonito? You have time, and spare. You should not begrudge me the good Father's visit." "Time, senor ! I have much to do ; much to do today, senor, am I would be thankful if you will hurry up, you and the other, and eat your dinner so that this afternoon a poor devil may attend to business." "Perhaps I can help you, Bonito. Let me assist you if it be an; thing around the carcel or your quarters. You know that if put my parole I will make no attempt to escape." "I would not be bothered with help ; you are too wise now, too wise about my business. Besides, senor, I have orders to allow no lib- erty to you whatever ; none whatever, senor, and to disobey and be discovered would be to lose my place, which would be no loss as to pay, but then at my age one hates to change, senor." "I see, Bonito. As a condemned person, condemned to death, strict vigil must be kept over me. It seems to me they might wait until time for the death watch. Bonito, is there no chance to escape? Would you hold me here until these tyrants get ready to murder nn for no crime, for no offense against the law?" "How can I help you, senor? If you were to escape, what woul( :; : GUY RAYMOND. 341 happen? Bonito would not only lose his place. bui his life. bullets intended for you would ruler uiv vitals. There is no help for it; no help for it, sen or. v "Not if you should get a hundred doubloons?" "Said you a hundred, senor, or two hundred ?" "Well, two; say two hundred." "If it were two and fifty ; or say three hundred good bright doub- loons but no senor no there is no use to talk of it. A thousand, with no chance to fly from the devils who would sit in judgment. A thousand nor two nor three Oh, senor ! it cannot be. T pity you ; yes, pity, but who pities Bonito? Eobbed of what he has toiled for and almost murdered by the devil who robbed him." "You are right, Bonito, to refuse a bribe. I was but trying you. Tf you have a post of duty, fill it well, be it never so repugnant to your tastes and feelings. A test of virtue lies in filling a post at all whose duties outrage the finer feelings of human nature. Tf a trust displeased me because of the involvement of my ideas of honor and moral duty, I would resign it. The discovery of my false position would terminate my connection with and make it impossible to betray it." "You are a brave pajarro, as I said at first. Bonito is a coward. I hate my work, but must do it or be shot. And yet, I have not the courage to give it up no more than I have to let you escape for twenty pesos. But, senor, are you not alarmed at the idea of being shot? Yo'i look as contented as if you would be free tomorrow, and the fellow over there is always sleeping 1 as if he were not going to be food for the worms in a day or two. You are a queer pair, senor ; a queer pair of birds." "There is no use fretting over it, Bonito." "I am glad you are through eating. Scrape his dinner on Ihnf plate. It looks as if he would never get sober. Ruiz was once a caballero, senor, puro caballero. Now, senor, I am off. Tf you will want anything tell it now, for you will not see me until the night comes." With assurances that nothing would be needed, the jailer shuffled off after securing the cell door. Jose, who was impatiently awaiting this event, came out of his corner and did ample justice to the con- tents of the dish upon which Guy had placed his meal. Thr la Her drew from his pocket a piece of paper that he had found in fho basket and, standing close to llu 1 gr.-iied door. rr;id ;i message from T?ui/c. He \vroie in Ihe prisoner iliai rvrrylliing had been arranged for his escape outside of the city and that he must be out of his cell, 342 GUY RAYMOND. either in the jailer's house or near it, so as to be within call, by elev o'clock on Sunday night. If he should discover that he had the power to release himself, his absence from the rendezvous wou be taken as proof of the fact, and the jail would be raided to free hi to provide himself with whatever arms he would find available ; to co municate with Linda, if possible, and secure whatever assistance, dir or indirect, she could offer through influence with or deception of her father. The rescuers would be in need of every favorable circum- stance that could be raised towards facilitating their venture or lessen- ing its peril. Guy grew meditative over the contents of the paper. He was entirely in the dark as to the means to be used for his release, or the method of gaining an entrance into the heart of a garrisoned town ever on the qui vive as the beseiged of an active and fearless enemy. He concluded that it was about time to make sure that an escape through the vault was open to him. He had not entered it since the day he had found the jailer there in an insensible state and con- cluded to let Jose into the secret, and that afternoon, especially, as Bonito was to be out of the way, he would explore the subterranean chamber and fix his triggers for an easy passage from the cell to the hall. As some time had elapsed since Jose had completed his repast and Guy had mentally digested a plan of escape and its possible success or failure, he concluded to draw out Jose's opinion, of the vault as a means of egress from their cell. "It will, of course, depend upon our getting into it, and then af we get into it, upon our getting out again," said Jose. "We certainly will be able to get back here, Jose, if we don't fi another way out." "It is forbidden ground, and I have heard it hinted that the spirits of numbers who have been led from there to be shot make thei visits to the vault." "Afraid of spirits, Jose?" "I am afraid to meet them." "If there be such they are harmless. It is from the living we receive injury, and they are the ones to be dreaded." "Everyone has his notions, Senor Raymond. I have the grea dread of meeting a ghost." "Well, Jose, I am going to get into that vault this very day, and will go alone if you do not go with me. I am going to soe if there is not a way to get out at flu; other end. You remember luivin "He said by the memory of my mother," said Jose, peering after Guy. "I like Father Ignacio, too, but my mother ! ! !< down my mother ! He knew my soft spot Senor Raymond. For the love of the memory of my mother I will brave even a ghost, Senor ; I am coming." Guy awaited Jose, who appeared after a short time bearing a heavy bar which had been discarded from some former use around the jail and had been appropriated by the present inmates of flic cdl as a clothes rack, placed laterally, the ends resting in crevices of the walls. "You took a time to make up your mind," said Guy, in an impa- tient undertone. "It took an age to get you fairly awake, and Him another to explain to you about the vault and what I wanted, and it seemed as if I never would get the candle lighted. The fellow has had time to get not only out of the house, but out of the {own ale "If it was a ghost it could be now out of the world, senor; ghosts take no account of distance and I've been told "No time for ghost stories, Senor Jose; the party 1 saw was flesh and blood and far more dangerous than a thousand ghosts. Keep silent and follow me if you are worthy the name of man." The major domo eyed the chest and stool curiously as he passed them and gave timid glances around the narrow passway as if he were in dread of heholdng some supernatural demonstration, lie reluct- antly obeyed the mandate to remain at the foot of the steps while his commander went up cautiously to listen. No sounds having reached him after some minutes, he signalled the other to follow, while he brought the light forward to throw its rays into the hall. The trap had been left open so that there was no trouble or delay in gaining the floor above. Guy wailed for his companion to join him, then posting him in the hall with instructions how to act in case the party hunted should make his appearance, he drew his knife and advanced upon Bonito's room. As he passed Linda's door he thought he caught a slight sound like the click of a lock, but after pausing a moment, he held the light well up and entered the old jailer's sanctum. The stillness w r as deathlike. Guy's form was shaded by the shadow of his left hand while the light was reflected from the long keen blade of the knife held in the right. The room, almost bare of furniture, was quickly taken in by the eager eye of the youth, who saw only the burly form of his jailer lying beneath the light covering of his bed. He still stood in the doorway, the candle illuminating the room and dimly showing in the hall the ex- .inf atlitude of Jose with liis bar held at a ready, his own position completing a tableau that portended the imminence of a tragical 350 GUY RAYMOND. event. Bonito, who had only been lying with closed eyes, ruminj ing on the strange realism that sometimes characterized dreams, sud- denly opened his eyes to see the light of Guy'* candle on the opposite wall. With! an ejaculation as to the astounding persistency of his candle to be lighted, he turned over towards- the door to take in the alarming situation of a man blocking the exit from his room with an uplifted candle and gleaming dagger. Was it a dream? Bonito rubbed his eyes the second time. Despite the gravity of the situation, Guy could scarcely repress a smile. The shadow across Guy's features, even had Bonito's vision been free from the confusing influences of a sudden awakening, would have concealed his identity from his jailer, who supposed him safely secured in his cell. "Por Dios ! What a night is this ! My toe is twisted off or mashed in a dream, and here is a ghost that stands like a statue, burning up my candle. He has even taken my dagger, for it is gone from under my head. Between my night's work and nightmare, T will be dead on my feet for the next week. Senor ghost, what do you want with Bonito?" If Guy had had any of the superstitious in his composition he would have begun to doubt his own sense of sight, and would have attributed the fact of Ducio's visit to the vault to be supernatural. The house was quiet, and with Linda's apartment unexplored, there appeared to be no intruder upon the privacy of the household. His well meant act of intervention between its inmates and harm was about to be turned into a ghostly visitation, or worse. If Bonito recognized him, what degree of pursuasion would it require to make him believe that he, who so well knew of his treasure, had not come to murder him in his sleep that he might secure it. The miser had not forgiven him for the knowledge, and his discovery in an attitude so apparently compromising would confirm his hostility despite the truthful story of Ducio's visit to the vault. Guy reflected that he would be but a few more hours in the carcel and it would not facilitate his departure to heighten the antagonism of his jailer. All this flashed through his quick mind with the rapidity of a lightning stroke and he determined to make use of the other's superstition. "You are the jailer?" "Did I not say I am Bonito?" * As a spirit I knew it ; but reply to my questions." "Well, Senor Ghost, if you will it; I am the jailer." GUY RAYMOND. 351 "You have a prisoner one Guy Raymond?" "You are right. I nicknamed him el pajarro." "He is your friend. He saved your life in the vault." "Truly you know it but then you are a spirit." "He did what you think is a greater service; he saved your gold." "My gold ! Yes, you are a spirit and a spirit knows." "If you doubt it I will tell you where you have now hid your money. It is no longer in the chest, but with pick and mallet and chisel you made a place in the left wall, the height of your breast, and in this hole you put your bags, and when you had them all in you took trowel and mortar and cement and closed the hole, point- ing off the cracks with great skill and hiding the freshness of the k." "Oh, you know you know !" "Listen until I finish. And then to hide your work you brought up all the sand and rock that composed the debris of the excavation. But, Bonito, you neglected to sweep the floor. It was an oversight." "I was so tired, Mr. Ghost so tired." An enemy has been in the vault. He who robbed you before and loft, you for dead has discovered that your gold has been moved, but it is yet safe. Take the advice of a spirit and send it to a safe place of deposit, when you should make over a good amount to Linda your daughter." "Oh, senor spirit, I could not trust it to human hands. I will move it again, and when I am dead Linda shall know and "It is but advice; do with the money as you like, for it is the dross of earth. Your soul is everything. Bonito you are a way- ward man. It has been ten years since you went to confession." "You are a spirit; it was ten last Easter. Oh, Senor Ghost, if you will tell me a safe place for my doubloons I will go to my duties often." "I cannot. Money is of earth and spirits would go out of their mission if they should pander to human greed for riches. Tlioy deal only with the soul, with character and mind. Money is of the flesh, and is condemned by the saintly who love God." "But the church manages to get its share and "Silence! Criticize not the church, or the loss of both your doubloons and soul will leave you the sport of men and devils." "I am dumb, Senor Spirit ; but I would ask you a question about my prisoner." "You shall be answered." r ill Senor Raymond betray my secret?" 352 GUY RAYMOND. "It is safe with him as with me." "He would not rob me ?" "You might as well suspect me of intending to rob you." "Es un buen pajarro." "You should show him your gratitude." "I could not spare a doubloon, seeing I was robbed." "He despises your money. His honor weighs a thousand more than all your hoarded gold. Give him his liberty." "I would be shot." "Allow him to break jail." "I cannot." "I will make it easy for you." "How?" "Have your guard doubled and get permission to be absent this Sunday night from ten until two. If he escapes while you are away there is no law, or precedent for your accountability. I tell you as an immortal spirit that you will never suffer for it." "Then I will do it; but, senor spirit, would it not be right I should be paid something if but a few pesos for such a "Miserable mortal ! Would you ask pesos from your savior who does not own centados where you have bright doubloons. I know the contents of each of your strong bags, which are fairly bursting with their load of coin for shame, Bonito !" "I am ashamed, Senor Spirit, but it would not hurt any one coi demned to die to pay a few reals at least for liberty." "He is generous, this young American, and will doubtless hel] you hereafter." "He shall have the chance ; but it will be no use." "Then you promise." "I promise." "Then I give you my blessing, frail mortal, and in leaving 1 charge you to remain in your room here until the time for rising. and to never tell to mortal of my visit. Upon these conditions will I guard your treasure and warn you should I ever know that you wil be in danger of loss." "Good spirit, Bonito will obey." "Good-night and remember." "Good-night, good ghost." Guy backed out of the door with a slow and ghostly stop 11111 got beyond the sight of the victimized jnilcr. lie rejoined Jose, who was rather impatiently awaiting his return or (lie showing up of some object upon which to test the efficiency of his weapon. The adventure GUY RAYMOND. ,353 had liar] results so different from the anticipated oiiicoinn thai fliiv was at a loss to know what to do. He had certainly seen the fellow in the vault, hut lie had left no traces In-hind, and there was nothing to indicate that he had made his exif from ilie house. Ills practical mind conceived the necessity, under the circumstances, of keeping a watch until morning in order to prevent any harm coming to Linda or her father from the would he rohher who, defeated in the discovery of the gold, might resort to force to corn-pel a disclosure from tin 1 household. TTe had no use for the superstitious Jose and determined to see him back to the cell before lie took a position to watch. He accordingly carried out the first part of this intention with difficulty, putting off replies to a score of questions from Jose until a more timely season for explanations. ("Juy, a Her cautioning the other to remain quietly in the cell until his return, went hack to the hall and toold a reclining position on the lounge. When Dncio entered Linda's garden to arrange the gate for a rapid exit in retreat, he did not notice a crouching figure in the corner he had so lately occupied when Ruiz was passing out wilh the fair owner. The figure arose into plain view the moment he re- entered the room and, creeping close to the door, bent forward as if peeping through the crack. It had the slight form of a youth, and as he leaned over the droop- ing ends of a sash, touched the tops of the plants which covered the bed ending at the door. "The miscreant! What can be his business here at this time of night? This simpering innocent has strange company at stranger hours. We'll see if their spooning is not made notorious, even if il costs the fair name of a Pe la Torre/' These muttered words greeted no ear, but they came from deter- mined lips, and voiced the emotions of a fiercely beating heart. Ducio had been watched and the wafcher had noted his disappearance over the wall of the garden. Ruiz had gone before the appearance on the secne of this youth, who had been impatiently Availing for Ducio to show himself. The hitter's egress to fix the gate and sub- sequent return was not understood and only served to irritale the watcher. Due.io at last felt satisfied that whoever had been talking in the hall had retired out of hearing, but this gave him no confidence in the safetv to himself of a further search in the vault. Who the parties could he was to him a mystery. This alone deterred him. He had little fear where? things were plain of solution, but he 354 GUY RAYMOND. it cast dreaded the mysterious enough to avoid risking his life where it its shadow of doubt. He felt inclined to knife Bonito or to commit some diabolical act to balance the disappointment. He had brought chloroform with him to administer to the jailer. He cursed himself for not having used it instead of wrenching his great toe. The miser's monologue had saved him from assault. He turned towards the bed where Linda reposed in healthful sleep. An idea struck him. "Why not chloroform her?" A sinister expression possessed his face for a moment. He dre the phial] from his pocket and held it to the light. He tried the door leading to the hall. It was fastened securely. He took the phial again from the little stand where he had placed it, and as he did so, he glanced in the mirror. He could not help noting his own hard look that answered back "You are a demon." He was about to look away when an exclamation partly escaped him. A strangely familiar face was stamped upon the mirror and seemed to glare at him from fiery eyes. Tt was a face which had haunted his mental vision for the last few days, and the sight transfixed him for an instant. Tt ap- peared to be framed in the opening of the garden door, and he turned nervously to confront it. But there was nothing at the door to con- firm the reality of the apparition. Consulting the mirror again, the face was gone. "It had Josefa's eyes and expression," h.e thought. He went to the door and closed it tighter. Linda turned in her bed and uttered a sigh, followed by a few words that were not intelligible. The villain crouched. But it wa,= evident that Linda slept a deep, dreamy sleep, all unconscious of .the polluting presence. The phial was again produced and a, quantity was dropped upon a hand kerchief taken from the dressing table With a catlike movement the fiend approached the couch and hel the saturated cloth forward preparatory to its application. T sleeper moved slightly and talked again: "Oh ! Manuel, save him The drug was applied, the nostrils inhaled the subtle narcotic nn< the girl was soon past the power of rousing to her defense. The Creole sat upon the side of the bed. and. taking a hand, drew the poised arm from above her head. Tn her dreams she pressed tho. vil Iain's palm and said in quite intolligiblo words: "Beatrice loves him." Ducio leaned forward and pressed a passionate kiss upon the ui conscious brow, unconscious himself of Hie presence of a third parly to the scene. When he grasped Linda's band Iho door leading to the le. : ml he the : GUY RAYMOND. . 355 garden had moved noiselessly upon its hinges and first the head of the listener, whose face had been reflected from the mirror, made its ap- pearance, then followed the form of the youth. With easy tread he slowly approached the unsuspecting Ducio, and, seizing him by the collar before he had half raised from the unholy kiss, he hissed be- tween his compressed teeth : "What does this mean, Mr. Ducio Halfen?" If a thunder bolt had struck him, Ducio could not have been more amazed than he was at the voice which uttered the words, and he was puzzled on turning to find they had come from a youth of slender build, who would be but a pigmy in his grasp. "Unhand me, simpleton !" cried Ducio, drawing the dagger he had taken from beneath the jailer's pillow. "What do you mean by your interference here?" "Use your weapon, coward, if you dare!" cried the intruder, draw- ing a glittering blade. "An explanation you shall make." "I would prefer to know your authority to ask an explanation," he replied. "This dress is to conceal me from the recognition of the street, not from your's, Mr. Halfen. If Josefa de la Torre has no right to ask, then you are indeed a perjurer." "Josefa! In this dress? I might ask how came you here? It is not a seemly hour for ladies to be out, even if disguised as men." "Nevertheless, sir, I am here and will have an explanation." "Josefa, put away the knife. An explanation will take too long. Lei: us defer it. You have spoiled all by this intrusion. A success- ful ending of this venture would have transferred a fortune from miserly hands to yours and mine, who know how to use it but now "From your actions, when. I chanced to come upon you, I in- terrupted a villainous plot against this girl in place of a plan to secure a fortune. What, sir, have you done here? What ails this woman?" "A little chloroform a matter of a few moments unconscious- ness." "During which you would have perpetrated a crime." "The crime of appropriating Bonito's doubloons." "If not a worse. The winning of a mine of gold would not excuse the deviltry which I believe you would have perpetrated but for my interference, as you call it." During this passage at arms between the strange pair, their voices had reached a key in sympathy with the excitement of the rencounter. Ducio was about to reply to Josefa's last insinuating charge when an evident attempt to force the door from the hall changed the coin- 356 Guv RAYMOND. loment, plexion of the dramatic scene. Pucio was electrified for the momei but with a characteristically quick decision, he seized Josefa by the arm and, pushing her towards the garden entrance, he said in stroi undertones : "We must never be caught here. Fly, Josefa! I will keep u[ with you until you get safely home. I did not count on this inter- ruption/' "It is Bonito who overheard our voices," suggested Josefa, as she hastened out. "Not alone, however, for I heard voices sometime before I ad- ministered the chloroform." The two were soon far on their way across the plaza, going in the direction of Josefa's home. The first intimation that Guy had that someone was astir in Linda's apartment was a noise so slight that he was much in doubt of the correctness of his hearing. A moment later he noted the move- ment of the faint line of light that struggled out from under the door. He continued on the alert for further evidences of the correctness of his first suspicion. The high words which followed Josefa's en- trance, being confirmatory in the last degree, he tried the door, but finding it fastened, looked around for something wherewith to force it. Jose's bar, which had been loft behind bv that worthy, was the first thing he noticed. With this Guy hoped to force the lock. His vigorous strokes finally caused the fastenings to yield, but not until the game had fled. With one glance about him as he entered, IIP passed quickly into the garden through the already open door and found the way into the plaza unguarded by any fastening. Without, the darkness was made blacker by his sudden transition from the lighted room. No sounds could be heard. Returning 1 to the apart- ment he had just quitted, he diffidently approached the bed where Linda lay, to discover if anything had befallen her. She was breathing heavily. No reply came to his repented calls. He finally became sensible of the presence of the narcotic, whose fumes pervaded the air of the apartment. - This satisfied him of Linda's condition. Taking the light from the dresser he held it closely to the face of the sleeper. She moved slightly and be called her name. He took her hand, which was resting limp beside her. The contact seemed to in fluence the recognition of a presence, for she murmured: "Manuel, save him; save Senor Raymond." Guy, fully comprehending her words, was afTected. Satisfl after witnessing the change in her respiral inn and an increasing rev lessness fhat no seriniK ennsequence.s would follow the inhalation GUY RAYMOND. 351 the drug, he resolved to close the room securely and to stand natch until the return of day. The superstitious jailer kept his bed in obe- dience to the injunction of his spiritual visitor, and the 'noniing was well broken before he rose from his slumbers with a (-.'mi'iK-ed recollection of the night's experience. Indeed, he lay awake fo** manv minutes in the endeavor to disengage the tangled threads of memory ; to distinguish between fact and fancy; to separate what he conceived had actually transpired from the mass of incoherence that could ciily have been compiled in the realms of dreamland. So Guy was not troubled by any vigilance of his jailer, and when the first gray of morning showed itself he descended to the vault, carefully closing the trap behind him, and made his way back to his cell and to Jose. The latter was asleep. He threw himself upon his pallet and sought rest in the repose which an all night watching rendered necessary. When 1m again awoke it was to find Jose shaking him. "Senor, it in time to get up; and here you are slopping like a log. Besides, it is time for breakfast, and that lazy jailor should havo come, before this, to bring it." "He has probably not recovered from his last night's scare," said Guy, more to himself than to the other. "Do you know, scnor, that I am getting tired of this staying in jail for another." "Well, Jose, a little more patience'; and I think, after we get the contents of Candelario's basket stowed away, you may go out and return to your duties with Father Ignacio." "And who will play Ruiz?" "I will attend to that." "There is ihe shuffling old fellow now." said Jose, as he heard the jailer's voice and stop. The holt, shot back in the lock and Bonito, looking rather the worse for his night's work, handed in the morning meal. Jose of course, had promptly retired to the far corner. "Is ho asleep .yet?" asked Bonito, nodding over to where Jose had retreated. Guy simply shrugged his shoulder in reply. "How T envy his long naps!" continued the jailer, with a yawn. "Ami go, YOU look terribly. One would judge from appearances that you had not slept for a week." "Senor, T had frightful dreams in the night, I had a dream about you Id- mo soo was it a droam or a vision or it was a about you, senor." 358 GUY RAYMOND. "A dream, Bonito?" "A something,, senor." "A waking dream, perhaps." "Senor, did you ever see a ghost a spirit?" ||J "They confine their visits to Christians, Bonito, and to the supc stitious who believe in them." "I see; I see only Christians good or bad Christians. Ghosts are not particular so they be Christians." "They are myths, Bonito. Ghosts have no existence, having no substance they cannot be seen." "Oh, senor! You are ignorant to say so. Bonito has eyes and if eyes can see Bonito's eyes have seen a ghost, and heard a ghost." "An illusion. You dreamed." "Dreamed ! It told me my thoughts my secrets my my it knew what no mortal but Bonito could know." "You but dreamed, amigo. If you were awake, some one pos- sessed of your secrets played the ghost." "The ghost was a friend to you," said Bonito, under his breath, remembering his promise to his supernatural visitor. "Never tell it, senor," he continued in a low tone, "but I am sure your friend, the ghost, would not mind my telling you that much. It charged me to silence; but, senor, you must know that you are not to be shot, that Bonito must be out of the way this night that you may escape by no fault of his. It must be the will of heaven, senor, if escape you do, for how you will get out of this cell with or without force, and a double guard in the court, is a puzzle Bonito can't make out. You are lucky to have a ghost doing so much for you, seeing you are not a Christian, with no faith in its sort, and no claims on its assistance. Here is Ruiz, the sleeper, whose fate is sealed, was never mentioned and is left to his doom, although he is a good Christian. Lucky pajarro ! But it puzzles me to know how you are to escape through no assistance of mine, except by my absence. If my absence will do it, senor, even that is worth much to one whose life will be saved by it. Yet I ask not for pay such a thing as pay should be left to the one who knows the value of his life. You have a sister, senor a young thing who needs you. She has no father, no mother, none save you to care for her. If she had a fortune she would lay it down at the feet of one who would save your life. You would do nearly so much to keep alive her protector. But Bonito asks nothing, although he has been robbed. You, senor, al- though you believe not in ghosts, and have no faith in the religion of the saints, have a well-balanced head and know your duty. The GUY RAYMOND. uty which you have said was your religion will decide your action it will decide your action, senor." Bonito said this in the low tone of confidence; and as he con- cluded, a deep sigh escaped him and his flabby cheek fell upon his left palm,, as he assumed a disconsolate pose for his auditor's edifi- cation. "Bonito,, you combine the arts of special pleading and acting/' said Guy, amused. "I would not take a real, senor, unless you give it with a good will/' replied the other, not comprehending Guy's remark. "Nor a peso ?" "No; nor a doubloon." "Virtuous Bonito! Have no further care, for I shall see that you are well rewarded for carrying out the commands of my friend, the ghost." "Que buen pajarro!" "Say, Bonito, how fares Linda this morning?" "The child looks bad, senor. She passed a miserable night, and shows it by her drawn face and red eyes." "Did she, also, see the ghost?" "Not she; it would have frightened her out of her wits; but her bad feeling comes of the ghost being in the house. There she is calling me. I promised to go back in a minute, and here T have Ix'on babbling and keeping you from your breakfast." When Bonito had retired, Guy opened his basket and called Jose to join him. In the usual place he found a note from Euiz. This, after reading carefully, he destroyed, and turned to Jose, with the remark: "Well, Jose, you are to go to Father Ignacio this morning." "And you?" "I will remain here a few hours longer." "T hate to leave you alone, senor." "You can better serve me outside." "Then I will go. Does Bonito know?" "Bonito is in the dark, but he will be managed. Brush up a little and be ready to leave here in thirty minutes." Jose was ready to depart when the appointed time had arrived, and escorted by Guy ho made his exit through the vault. The hall was clear, and a rap at Linda's door caused her to open it and admit him. Greeting him with a smile, half sad, and as if in ( x[M Nation of his coming and destination, she indicated the way oui through thn garden into the plaza. 360 GUY RAYMOND. CHAPTER L. Vespers were over at San Fernando. A slim congregation had dispersed, leaving a few straggling worshippers, who quitted at inter- vals the grand front portal, singly or by twos and threes. The popular priest was with the last to leave. At the door he joined two female figures, from under whose rebosas peered two well-known faces. In company they turned towards the priestly residence. "How fares the young prisoner, Linda ?' asked Father Ignacio. "My father says he is in good spirits," she replied. "In spite of the fact that his execution is tho day after tomorrow?" "That is, if the day aftor tomorrow will find him a prisoner/' said Beatrice, who was the third party of the group. "Ah! Then he has hopes of a pardon." "Perhaps or something that will equally prove a preventive." "Guard your secret, my child, if one you have." "My secret?" "I've seen Miguel." "The simpleton! What could he have told?" "Nothing. Yes, a hint. Miguel is conscientious, and if I know or suspect anything from what ho hinted, it has my blessing. 7 ' "Thanks, good Father." "From me the same," said Linda. "Did Manuel see you toda; "He saw me just before I said mass this morning." "He told you?" "Yes ; the plan is bold. It may succeed, but it is a most perilous undertaking. T will have to do penance for engaging, even by con- sent, in this plot against the authorities. But, my dear children. T have a heart. To my mind it would be murder to take tho lifo of this young American on the insufficient evidence against him, with- out a shadow of opportunity to defend himself. To me he hns proved himself to bo the soul of honor, and, talented beyond his years, it would be a wanton crime to destroy a life so full of brilliant promise. Besides, ho has not yet experienced tho touch of faith. The grand truths of our holy religion have not yet dawned his exquisite intelligence. T have prayed for it with all tho ai of which I am master, for T believe his innate purity, allied t< failh in revealed religion, would make him a wearer of HIP cass "He would make a noble priest," thought Linda, with a In suppressed sigh. Guy RAYMOND. 361 "As if a man of honor and intellect could not believe in religious dogma without taking order*/' thought Beatrice, with a slight flush. that might have meant indignation. "But the world is full of scholars who accept the religions of our civilization, yet they have no inclination to take orders. Many cf these are doubtless pure men and honorable," said Beatrice, in unconscious deprecation of Father Ignacio's idea as applied to the subject of her thoughts. "Pardon" me, Beatrice. Child, let us free him first from the impending 'danger, before \ve differ as to his career. Whatever his calling may be, Guy Raymond will fill it honorably and well. What says Linda? Shall wo make a padre out of Senor Raymond ?" "As God wills it. Father. He would make a good priest, but he i? too just a little too handsome." "You are very well content with my sacred calling which, in view of your opinion, is a thrust at my personal appearance," said the priest 'good humoredly. "But you wore a priest before we saw you, and of course Linda and myself have to yield to what we had no opportunity to protest against." "Well, God bless you, my children; I must leave you here. May r.ll our hopes be realized." So saying the good father left them, to enter his house, while the girls soon after separated to go to their respective homes. The parting between the two girl friends was to be of short durition, for before the dew had dampened the plants in Linda's garden. Bent-rice had raised the latch of its gate and passed over the neat walk to the former's door, which was open in expectancy of her coming". Bonito, who had fussed around the whole afternoon in a state of perturbation which precluded the indulgence of his customary siesta, hailed the approach of evening with satisfaction; not that it would end the nervousness entailed by a combination of matters which pressed upon his susceptibility, but that it hastened the climax of a portion of the events whose consummation preyed upon his mind. He dreaded the responsibility for an escape made by one of his prisoners. His grasping nature had weighed, since early morning, the size of the remuneration to be expected from Guy, who had hinted at a reward for the bare absence of four hours from his post of duty. He had not removed the remaining traces of the debris in the vault, as Sunday had succeeded his night work. His superstition came to his relief in the remembrance that the i had directed his passive connivance in the escape of the Amer- 362 GUY RAYMOND. lean. It was none of his affair if the wall should prove too thick or the bolts too strong and the doubled guard too wary to permit the ghostly programme to succeed. True, he thought, ghosts cared little for fastenings, but how could his mere absence so facilitate matters? If el pajarro should fail and be executed, the secret of the chest would again be only his if he should escape well que importa, the doubloons were gone no one knew where -except the ghost and then he would get some reward for which he had not asked, however, as his supernatural visitor had forbidden him. He would clean up the vault on the morrow and the most prying could pass through it without a suspicion of a secret treasure, and then, the ghost had guaranteed its safety. Bonito had early notified the proper authority that he would be temporarily absent in the night, and was promised the double guard, with a special commendation for his vigilance. He had some business with the notary and concluded that he would make that a pretext for a visit to that functionary, at or a little before he hour he had promised to be absent. He accordingly notified Linda, at the time decided upon, and took his way northwards along the east side of the plaza. When the jailer had been fairly gone, the outer gate was fastened with its inside latch by his daughter, who then attached to it a cord with a small stone tied on the other end. The latter she threw over the wall, just above, so that it depended from the outer edge. This done, she, with Beatrice, who was an anxious witness to her act, entered her room and closed the door. "Miguel ! Come forth/' said Beatrice. In response, the giant mozo of the Navarro's issued from the identical place where Ducio had concealed himself on the night before. He having arrived before her father's departure, Linda had placed him in concealment. The huge frame seemed to expand more and more as he rose from his constrained position, and finally took a respectful stand near his mistress. "Linda, shall we go now or wait?" "There is little use of waiting. No one is here to interrupt us, and the time will seem too short to you, who must have much to say to him." Beatrice blushed. "I I will not know what to say. His deliverance here is easy- but the peril of the passage without the lines? This troubles me. Eecapture means death instant death, and then the chances of an armed encounter. Have you his rifle?" "Here," said the other, producing the trusty weapon of Guy's GUY RAYMOND. 363 Indian experience, "and lien? his pistols, all dean and in good order. The monte pio had it done for me." "The monte pio I" said Beatrice meaningly. But Linda shook her head. "Come then, Linda, lead the \vay. Come, Miguel! 7 ' They gained the hall. The giant was looked to with appealing eyes. He regarded the lounge for a moment, then pointed to it. "The opening must be under that," he said. "Do your duty," commanded Beatrice. "Miguel, it is all with you now." The mozo examined the lounge curiously. He pulled away at ii, but the resistance proved it to be stationary. His whole strength was put in requisition. The effect was a cracking noise, then a giving away of the end containing the trapdoor, disclosing the first step, without affording space for the passage of a body. Another effort of the muscular arms and Bonito's contrivance was a wreck. The huge frame of the mozo nearly filled the space as he began to descend to the vault. "Are you going, Linda?" asked Beatrice. "No. I will wait here. You go, Beatrice; go with Miguel. To you belongs the credit of this deliverance." "Now that the moment has come, I am losing the nerve which has sustained me. If there was not still a doubt, still a fear that this effort may miscarry I should stop here from the very lack of force to proceed. This doubt this fear will sustain me until until " Linda kissed her. Miguel reminded them that a candle was needed. This Linda sup filied, and again embracing her friend, she saw them disappear into the vault. A shudder crept over Beatrice as she viewed the rough interior of the subterranean chamber, but conscious of the presence of her powerful servant and the sacredness of her mission, she crowded down the emotions natural to delicate and refined womanhood. Miguel was not long in reaching the ascent to the cell. This he pointed out to Beatrice and told her that the stone covering to the trap must be lifted, and inquired her pleasure. She waved him to proceed. He drew-forth from his side a heavy blade, and going within reach of the stone to be removed, he held up the light and introduced the 364 GUY EAYMOND. point of the knife around its edges. The experiment ove'r he coolly looked down and remarked: ."The stone is loose. Shall I lift it?" "Lift it," was the reply. The sinewy frame of the giant was hent double, and with back placed against the ponderous flag, he made one effort and the impedi- ment was shoved to one side. He turned quickly to grasp its edge and the next moment the hole was clear. "Amigos! Senor Amigos!" said Miguel, as his big body rose through the opening into the cell. "Stand back, amigos I'll test your friendship. Who are you, and what do you want ?" said Guy, who had been lying down reading, and viewed with no little surprise the lifting of the stone and the intrusion of the strange head. His first act was to seize the stool and hold it menacingly aloft, while he felt for his dagger. These demonstrations called forth the protestations of friendly intent from the lips of Miguel. To Guy's inquiry the mozo demonstrated considerable tact by replying : "The* Senorita Beatrice Navarro is here and will answer your worship, if you will let me get off the steps." "The Senorita Navarro I" exclaimed Guy, moving forward and peering down the steps. He could not be deceived; there, with candle held aloft, anxiety depicted in her face, was the veritable, form and features of her whose influence had swayed him like a second nature. As he looked the picture became graven upon his heart. The light and shadow playing upon her features, expressive of changeful emotions lent a singular charm to her beaut} 7 . The upturned look, the pallid color induced by the venture and enhanced by the damp and chill of the vault, the contour of the face framed by the dark rebosa, suggested a Madonna. With a bound he was in the vault. "Senorita ! This is no place for you. Even now you look unwell/' "Senor, I came for a purpose which must be accomplished. Tues- day you are condemned to to die. Tonight you must escape. I knew of this secret passage my mozo knew how to reach your cell I claimed his services and we are here." "This for me ! Oh ! Beatrice !" "For you you who rescued me from a terrible death. To can that debt I am here. You must hasten from this foul place, first step. Tt will take some hours to decide, if the plan made your friends will end in failure or success." GUY RAYMOND. :;;:. "I knew of a plan to be carried out tonight, but there was no hint of your connection with it." "That was my secret; shared alone by my faithful Miguel." "Senorita ! I "You called me Beatrice. Oh! Guy, what is the cloud between us ?" "Have I raised it Beatrice?" "You did not answer my letter." "I never received one." "Then have I misjudged you but this is no fit place for explana- tions. Let us go to Linda's room. Her father is out of the way and time is flying. There remains- much to be done in a plan of which I must confess my ignorance." Guy took a farewell look at his surroundings and mentally won- dered what would finally become of the miser's wealth. Linda was waiting jn the hall for the liberating party with their charge. She embraced and congratulated Beatrice on her success, and turning to greet Guy, the latter imprinted a brotherly kiss upon her forehead. He caught Beatrice's look as he raised from its be- stowal, and before she was well aware of his intention he stooped and kissed her lips. "That was right-," said Linda, "but it should have been given in the vault." "I wished to acknowledge my gratitude to both at the same time/' said Guy. "Now," he continued, "if you will allow me, I wish to rearrange the stone in the cell so that no blame may attach to my good jailer." "Let Miguel do that. Miguel, go replace the stone, and, as far as you can, repair the damage to the lounge." Miguel at once hastened to obey the orders of his mistress. In Linda's room a council was held. The hour was found to be near ten o'clock when the relief would be around and supply a double guard in the court of the carrel. "Do you know anything of Manuel Eui//s mo\ements tonight?" asked Beatrice. "He was to be here at ten, or thereabouts, to see if I would be in readiness to join him then, or at some hour, which he was to name," said Guy. "I am expecting him every minute," said Linda. "How would you have contrived to meel him if we had not found you a way out of the cell?" Beatrice.'- (jin-slimi was one \\hirh Guy feared she would ask. "24 366 GUY KAYMOND. Since she had asked it, he answered evasively, for he did not wish her to become aware of his previous knowledge of the secret passage, especially of his purpose to use it that night, as an exit through which to effect a meeting with Euiz. To so inform her would sweep away the credit she enjoyed as his deliverer, and deprive her of the sole stimulant of the adventure. So he replied : "But for the vault I would have been sorely puzzled, and should have been compelled to rely upon the ingenuity of Ruiz to accom- plish what you have so easily done through the knowledge of your faithful mozo." If Linda had a thorn in her heart, she concealed it under a calm exterior. Her devotion to Guy was the outgrowth of her con- tact with a personality strange to her experience with men of her race. His gentleness, the purity which every act reflected, won her simple admiration, and if she loved him as she would a lover, her peculiar disposition made it possible for her to love him as a friend. She was as much interested in Beatrice as a woman, as she was in Guy as a man. As a child of nature she was a perfect type; as the issue of Bonito, a wonderful product. Under pretense of attention to affairs in and out of her room, she left Guy and Beatrice to mutual explanations and interchange of sentiment on the eve of a probable separation. The pair were engrossed with each other, when the door was unceremoniously opened and Ruiz entered in his dis- guise. "No time for ceremony so I came right in. Ha! Mr. Guy Raymond, happy to see you and so pleasantly engaged." "Ruiz ! As I live. Your own mother would foreswear you." "Good evening, Linda!" "You found the string on the gat-e?" "Or I would have had to jump the wall. You are out of the cell, I see," he said to Guy. "Bonito came to terms?" Bonito? No, he was stubborn to the last. The jailer is off duty for a time. The Senorita Navarro pointed out an exit through a secret passage from the cell." "A secret passage? But I can't stay for explanations, as time is pressing. Senor, a word with you in the hall." Ruiz drew Guy aside, just without the hall door, and disclosed to him some new details of the plan to deceive the authorities. While so engaged a rap was given at the garden door and Linda, who answered the call, was surprised to admit the priest of San Fernando. "You are surprised to see me here but where is your liberated GUY RAYMOND. 367 prisoner?" he asked, looking towards Beatrice. "Here he is," replied Guy, entering- w jti, R u j z . "Father, T am proud of this honor." "You did not suppose I was going to let you escape, or run the risk of your life in attempting to do so, without an adios." "Not he," said Ruiz. "Remember, if we are all caught in this affair, that Father Ignacio is chief conspirator." "You would be thoughtless to criminate me, for as an innocent I would have influence in your behalf." "No mercy can be expected from tyrants. But there is no time for debate. I must be off to meet bold men and true. The fnH is, I am late now, and will have to hurry." As he said this, Ruiz waved an adios and hastened out to the plaza and darkness. "A bold fellow, is Ruiz," said the priest, as he seated himself near Guy for a chat. "Bold and true. I tried to induce him to let me go with him, but it seems that I am not to be an actor in the first part of the programme." u CHAPTER LI. Ruiz gained the plaza from the garden, he came in contact with someone moving in the opposite direction, his left arm striking the other's right. With an apologetic ejaculation, he moved briskly on to meet his appointment with his confederates. "That fellow has been there again tonight ! It was his voice cer- tainly. There must be somthing some plot; perhaps the release of that fellow Raymond. The fellow's actions have been strange and suspicious, and he has certainly dogged me. The gate he has left ajar, possibly with a view of returning at once. I will just take a peep in there and may learn something that will confirm my already slrong position with the authorities. The dead body of the notary has not yet been discovered. Why not lay the deed on this fellmv with the long beard. I can swear that I saw him prowling near the dciul man's house last night. Well, here goes to see what I can see." With these last words, half thought, half said, Ducio crept into the garden and close to the window nearest his former place of con- cealment. Through a small aperture he was able to take in a view of a large portion of the apartment. The sound of voices were plainly distinct, enabling him to catch here and there a sentence. To his astonishment he saw Guy, the condemned prisoner, sitting 368 GUY RAYMOND. quite at ease by the side of the beauty of Bexar, by Beatrice Navarre. Linda, apparently no worse from her experience of the night before, was talking to the priest of San Fernando. Ducio understood at once that the prisoner was under no surveillance; that no restraint was present to prevent his further progress from the vicinity of his cell. Navarro pere was marked by the authorities as a rebel, and here was his daughter giving aid and comfort to a condemned spy, and doubt- less intriguing for his escape from the city. But the priest was considered loyal, as was also the jailer. Ducio was resolving to make a report of this scene to the authorities, when his attention was riveted by the plainly heard words of the parties whom he was watching. "There is a double guard in the court. My father had business in town and thought it best to double the sentinels until his return." "It seems he did not count on Senor Raymond's power of self transmutation," said Father Ignacio, laughing. "You have not heard of my playing ghost ?" "No! I had not heard. I merely conjectured that a change of substance had been necessary to enable you to pass the bolts and bars of prison." "I wondered that Manuel was not more inquisitive about the man- ner of your getting out of the cell," said Beatrice. "Ruiz had no time for talking or for explanations, as he had to meet our friends from the outside." "The one thing I do not like about this plan of Ruiz," said Father Ignacio, "is the introduction of a rebel force to take, a part. Senor Raymond's escape could have been insured by secretly passing the lines under escort of a guide, and as for a guide, none in Bexar co have been secured more expert in the business than Ruiz himself." The words of the priest threw new light on the affair, and Du determined that he had sufficient clues to implicate the whole party. The individual who had haunted his steps was undoubtedly the bogus toreador, who, apprehended as Ruiz, was presumably in prison. Prompt action on the part of the authaorities would solve the mystery and explode any alleged powers of transmutation in possession of the prisoners. Filled with this intention, Ducio hastened from the place. The hour was eleven when Karnes and Ruiz grasped hands, after the bow of the boat had grated upon the pebbly margin of the rivSr. Nathan sat upon her bow as the boat's stern swung around with the stream, and with his feet planted upon the bank, he held her firmly in position. The others were silent in their places, partly from the injunction of the commander, partly from a desire to catch some- the = GUY RAYMOND. 369 thing that would pass between the conferees, whose councils were to detain the expedition for a time. "Well?" was Karnes laconic inquiry. "Everything is ready, so far as it is possible to regulate the position of things. A thorough acquaintance with the place and what we are likely to encounter has been looked after. There are risks which no one can anticipate, and whatever obstacles may arise must be met by determination and dash." "What about the prisoner Raymond ?" "He awaits us free of his cell. I refused to let him accompany us to headquarters, as he will be of more service with our reserve should we need the assistance. Too large a show of force would defeat our aims." "In your hands, then, Senor Ruiz, must remain the direction of this expedition. We will furnish the pluck, and if mortal courage will carry us through, you may count on suce<> ." "Then we'll to business/' said Ruiz, giving a low whistle. . In response a tall form came out of the darkness and placed a bundle which lie carried on the ground before them. "How many, Jose?" "Seven, senor." "Counting the sergeants?" "Si, senor; counting the sergeants." "But yours? You should have one also." "I have mine on, senor." "That will do ; it is so dark I could not see the change." "What are these the uniforms?" inquired K.-irnes. "Yes," replied Ruiz, "and \ve had work to get enough. Have tin- men put them on." "Come, boys, tumble out," commanded Karnes. "size up this toggery and make your toilets without delay." The men, with more noise than was agreeable to the cautious Karnes, jumped speedily out of the boat and surrounded the pile of Mexican uniforms which Ruiz had procured for their dis^ujpe. The next few minutes were consumed in sizing up ihe candidates for investiture. 'What'll we do with our duds?" asked Hamilton. "There's only blouses and caps," said Karnes. "You can put them on over your eoats." "Which ihe blouses or the caps?" "The blouses, you fool." id our hats ?" 370 GUY KAYMOND. "Leave 'em in the boat." "This blouse will never hide my frock tail," said Hamilton. "Cut off the tail, then," said Perry. "That's what," said Nathan, "for the showin' of your tail mo cost you yer head." "Bravo, Nathan ! Your coat tail will never give you away." "I reckon not," said Karnes, "for it is a question if Nathe e owned a coat." "They're useless things, Karnes. The old man once't made me wear one to meetin', but it cut me under the arms and I gin it to my little brother. They're the peskiest things to cut a feller under the arms. Now, I don't rnind one of these blouses, altho' this un falls terrible short." "Come, men, be readv. Ruiz, who is this man? Does he go with us?" "This is Jose," said Ruiz, in an undertone, "the major domo of the priest. He will be with us, but now I have other work for him. He will return to give notice to others interested in our plot, and an- nounce your coming and our approach down the river. You have the muskets with bayonets?" "Yes; we supplied ourselves from the lot captured at the powder house." "All right, then, we had better be off." By direction of their commander the men resumed their posi- tions in the boat, making a place for Ruiz by the side of the former. The command to push off was given. The little vessel floated free; the oars dipped; the paddle righted its course and it shot away into the darkness ahead. By the road which Jose had to travel to return, the town was but a few hundred yards below, but the torturous course of the river turned here and there until it nearly boxed, the compass every quarter of its way. While the craft is doubling its turns, plowing the glassy surfaces of its pools or just grazing the rocky bottom of its rapids, bearing its adventurous crew to the dangers of a hostile environment, a return to the city, now quiet in the embrace of night, will disclose in some degree the difficulties which new moves of counterplotters were erecting in their path. Few lights were to be seen from the quiet streets. The Cabeza de Toro showed its usual activity with answering 1 lights from the Candelario's and the vinoteria, while from the entrance of tho court of the carcel the light from the lamp over Bonito's door struggled faintly lo tho sidewalk. Along Main street, headquarters alone were illmninaird. More the windows of the guard room showed the lazy sentinel as he paced GUY EAYMOND. 371 before them, up and down his beat. Linda's light was concealed by the high garden wall, but the plaza escaped total darkness through the faint rays of Father Ignacio's candle which, like Beatrice's taper, still burned for the return of the absent. At headquarters a convocation of deep interest to this narrative was in progress. The room to which the reader has already paid one or more visits, was the scene. The little lieutenant of the staff was apparently the controlling spirit. He was at one end of the green table, while on the side and to his right, his friend Sancho was seated, leaning forward, his elbow supporting his hand upraised to his forehead. Between them was a chess board with a few standing pieces, showing an unfinished game. The lieutenant and his companion were both regarding a third party, who having just been admitted to the apartment, had interrupted a closely contested game of chess by the communication of some intelligence possessing more than or- dinary interest. The lieutenant was interrogating him on the sub- ject : "You say, Senor Halfen, that this prisoner, Raymond, was out of his cell, in the jailer's apartments, and that his companions were were I would like to hear it again from your own lips without put- ting a leading question." "The Senorita Navarre, the jailer's daughter and the priest who has charge of San Fernando," repeated Ducio, emphatically. "Good company! And the jailer was he about?" "I overheard that the jailer was out in town, but had taken the precaution to double the guard during his absence." "True, I remember now; he asked and received permission to be absent for a time tonight." The lieutenant drummed on the table with one of the captured castles of his adversary. "You seem to take the news coolly," suggested Ducio. "It is best, Senor Halfen. We military men must ever be cool. The Father Ignacio !" "The Senorita Beatrice !" chimed in Sancho. "And the pretty Linda! She, too, in a plot to free this hand- some American !" said the lieutenant. "This nearly upsets all remembrance I had of our game, Sancho; whose move was it ?" "Your's, lieutenant, otherwise it would be a checkmate." "Lieutenant," interrupted Ducio, chafed at the indifference paid to the news he had imparted, "you appear so cool over the matter I had better speedily inform you of something additional that will con- vince you of the necessity for immediate action." 372 GUT RAYMOND. "The report you make, senor, shall have due consideration. This man may be out of his cell, but as for escape, the admirable dis- cipline and the perfection of every arrangement for the defense of this post renders it impossible for him to pass our lines. If yc have further matter to communicate we will listen." "Then, senor, I have to inform you that Manuel Ruiz, the spy who was arrested at my instigation, is free, and has been free for days." "Impossible ! We get daily reports." "Very well, senor. But what will you say if he, Ruiz, will this night meet a force of the Texans, of what size I know not, and guide them into town?" "Stuff ! They would but come to their death." "Let him say on what he bases his information," suggested Sancho. "I heard the priest say that he objected not to the prisoner's escape, but to the fact that Ruiz intended to introduce a rebel force to take a part." "He is only a half traitor, then," said the officer. "This needs action," said Sancho. "It does. I am thinking about the best means to pursue to bag the game." "It is very simple, senor." "Yours is not a military mind, Sancho. We of the army know our power, the disposition of our surroundings and at the proper time we make a move." "You should certainly get this American back to his cell or sh him at once, and the traitor, Ruiz, should have no mercy." "What say you to the Reverend Ignacio; to the recreant jail to Beatrice, the Navarro beauty with an American education ?" "They should be arrested."' "They shall be arrested !" "All?" "All." "And punished?" "And shot." "Don Juan has influence." "Not an ounce. The general has done with him and he sho answer for the treason of his daughter." "And overlook her act? It would be a pity to immolate so m beauty." "Her beauty is of little moment to you or me or any oilier Mr GUY RAYMOND. 373 can. There is but one punishment for (reason, and ihat is in^lani death. If the general, el presidenle. \\ere here tln'v would all he shot tomorrow. Excuse me, Sunoho. until I send for flie officer of the guard. There is no use disturbing the general and I will show you how to block the game of these traitors." As he said this the little officer stepped io the further door and rapped three times, then resumed his seat. It was only a moment before an orderly appeared at the other door and saluted. "The presence of the officer of the guard is required, here at once; quick, sir, and let him know it." The soldier saluted, backed out of the door and was gone." "Now, Sancho ; you say it is my move." "Your move." "I'll just take this knight that has troubled me so long, and now you are in check from my queen." "If your military moves are no better than your chess plays, your enemies will outwit you/ 7 said Sancho, as he moved his remaining knight into a position checkmating his adversary. "It's all owing to my mind being absorbed in the news brought by Senor Halfen," said the lieutenant. Here the orderly returned, announcing the sergeant of the guard, who immediately put in an appearanc. "Well, sir, where is the lieutenant of the guard?" "He left with the patrol, your worship." "For what?" "A report came from post No. 10 that a boat was heard to pass down the river. It was first taken for a log, but a picket said he heard a voice that could only have come from the thing he saw pass, be it boat, or log, or what else." "The tonto ! There is not a boat in Bcxar, and he is on a fool's errand. I have work for you, sergeant. Take six men of the patrol force and go at once to the carcel. You will enter the jailer's house and arrest everybody in it, be it the jailer himself, or priest, or bishop, woman or child. I suspect the prisoners are out of their cells, one an American, the other the traitor Ruiz, whom you know. Arrest them and, as I said, every soul to be found there, except the sentinels on duty, and march them to these headquarters. Go at once." The sergeant saluted and retired. "I will show you, Sancho, who will beat in this uamc." "Kni/ is against yon, and a schemer. This gentleman says he has been on I of jail for days." "Why did yon not inform us, Senor Halfen?'' 374 GUY EAYMOND. "I am not a professional informer, sir; besides he is so well dis- guised in his long beard that I would never have recognized him. learned only tonight that it was he." "A long beard, you said ?" "Yes, reaching to the waist." The two friends interchanged significant looks. It was a few minutes to midnight by the lieutenant's watch the sergeant had received his orders to arrest the inmates of Bonito's establishment. To impress uj>on Sancho and the Creole his ad- mirable self-command, he chose other topics for discussion so soon as the subordinate had disappeared. Military matters, his own bravery in several engagements in which he had taken a part, the dispicable character of the American Texans, were subjects briefly considered in the course of a desultory conversation. Meanwhile the time seemed to drag to the occupants of the office. Without, the blackness had given way to the even shadowless light of the after night as the eastern constellations, mounting from the horizon, added their glow to the silver luster of the meridian. A singular stillness, broken solely by the notes of nature, rested over the city. The caged bird on the back veranda whistled a lively answer to his free challenger in the top of an adjacent cottonwood, while the hooting of a distant owl, the yelping of a cur, or the crow of an ambitious cock served to break the monotony of the night-watch. Below the veranda the cool eddies of the river broke into ripples where they touched the shallows of the opposite bank and sent the music of the contact on the bosom of the fresh November wind. What? Hist! Was it a splash in the water? It might have been a dead limb, long decayed, which finally parting from the parent tree, had fallen to the stream to be borne on and on, perhaps to be the sport of salt waves and ocean currents, until its texture would be pregnant with a diversity of sea life. Deception so enters into human experience. The senses are often at fault and the imagination, with the least touch of the superstitious in the mental makeup, will lend its aid to mislead and mystify and perplex. What? A splash again! A night hawk flew from its low perch on a limb that reached above the water as if scared away. Another splash, a low word of command, a dark object shot under the bank opposite the shallows, and a grating sound followed, m unlike the scraping of a boat's bottom upon the rocky shore. No imagination here. The sentinel, if he had been posted belc the veranda, could have Ix-on considerably enlightened by the sound* of the landing and also by the words which followed, if he understood the English tongue. der no, low Qds GUY RAYMOND. 375 "Nathan, secure the boat. Euiz, out in front and direct the move- ment. Guide, put youreslf under the instructions of Euiz. All secure your arms and see that everything is right." Karnes gave the instructions in a quick undertone, and nimbly jumped to the bank. While the men were being formed and the arms inspected, Euiz, at his suggestion, went forward to reconnoiter. He was dressed as a sergeant of the Mexican army. Euiz found no impediment to his progress until he reached the sentinel. The latter was walking from him, and as he was not per- ceived, he made a detour and approached as if coming from Main street. The sentinel challenged him. Euiz promptly replied : "Sergeant from the outer guard." "Approach, sergeant, and give the countersign." Euiz approached a few steps, halted and answered correctly: "Monterey." mt is your business, sergeant ?" dsh to see the adjutant." 'ass on ; the orderly is in the rear." Seeing but three or four men tying in the guard room, Euiz asked the sentinel where his sergeant was, with the balance of the force. The sentinel merely knew that the sergeant had orders to proceed to the ca reel and arrest everybody there and in the jailer's house. "Is that the truth ?" asked Euiz, rather dismayed. "The truth, sergeant; the lieutenant ordered him to arrest even a b.iphop if he found one there. But go, sergeant, lest I be seen talk- ing on post." Euiz left as if to go to interview the adjutant, but after gaining 1he ivju- of the house, he darted down the bank to communicate with Karnes. "We have no time to lose, senor." "What's up?" "A squad has gone to the jail to arrest everybody, the jailer in- cluded. Let me have command for awhile, and let no word be spoken but in Spanish. "Fall in, men, in single rank! There! File up the bank and Senor Karnes will form you and hold you at the edge of the veranda." Euiz led the way, and when the force was aligned as he had in- iiin;ited, he directed the guide to follow him. They went around the end of flic building and Unix, approaching the sentinel, stated f that the adjutant desired to see him on some important matter, and sent 376 GUY RAYMOND. him orders to surrender his post to the soldier with him for a few mo- ments The sentinel hesitated, but concluding that the adjutant's orders had to be obeyed, he finally allowed himself to be relieved. He ac- companied Ruiz to the rear, where he was promptly made prisoner and cautioned that a failure to be quiet would cost him his life. Ruiz next step was to interview the orderly, whom he discovered nodding on a bench in the room adjoining the office. He shook the sleepy fellow, who bounced up and demanded what was wanted. "Tell the lieutenant that I am back from the carcel and that 1 require more force to arrest the persons there." "Are you the sergeant? You are not Sergeant Ramirez." "Do as I command you or I will make a hole in that sleepy head. Man, you are dreaming." The orderly obe}^ed, but gave a dubious look at the sergeant as he rapped at the door of the office. When the rap was given the lieutenant was in the midst of a de- scription of a charge in which he participated once upon a time dur- ing one of the numerous revolutions which had torn his country. He allowed the rap to be repeated before he gave the permission : "Entre." The orderly opened the door and announced : "Your worship the sergeant he says he is the sergeant- Ruiz pulled the fellow's blouse. "Say what I told you!" he whispered. "What is the matter with you, tonto are you sleep?" asked the lieutenant. "May be I am, vour worship ; he said I. was dreaming." "Who?" "The sergeant." "Oh! The sergeant; let him in. Perhaps he has the prisoners.' Ruiz pulled his cap over his face and, standing in the door, saluted. "Senor lieutenant, the sergeant whom you sent to the carcel quests you to send him assistance, or to come in person yourself." "Who are you, sir?" "Sergeant of patrol No. 2 ; off duty until four o'clock." "You are a volunteer, then." "Si, senor." "Can't seven men make prisoners of one Gringo, two women a padre?" " ( There is no time to lose," said Ruiz, thinking of his own e: pedition. ed the GUT RAYMOND. 377 "I grant you that, sergeant, but- Ruiz gave a shrill whistle, much to the astonishment of the three occupants of the office.. Before an explanation could be demanded, six armed soldiers entered the door, Ruiz having stepped aside to clear the way. "What means this, you dogs?" demanded the lieutenant, ex- citedly. "It means that you are prisoners and that five hundred men are inside of your lines, brought in by the traitor to the tyrant of Mexico, by me Manuel Ruiz. One word from your cowardly throats will settle it with you for all time. Men, seize this upstart and bind and gag him. One will do." "Try your hand, Perry," said Hamilton. "You do not include me in this arrest," said Ducio. "The French gentleman is included," said Ruiz. "I have a crow to pick with you." It did not take long to secure the prisoners. "Now, sir lieutenant, upon the truthfulness of your answers will depend your worthless life. If you lie in any particular you shall never more strut in gold lace and brass buttons." The little lieutenant, already bound, was completely cowed. He gave a trembling promise to state the truth. "Where does Almonte sleep?" was Ruiz's first interrogatory. "He slept in the next room south while here." "While here ? Is he not here now ?" "He left this afternoon for Matamoras." "Are you lying?" "Upon my honor." "Honor ! As if it ever dwelt in your carcass." Ruiz now drew Karnes aside for consultation. It was evident thai they must proceed at once to the carcel to secure the safety of (Ju\ Ramond and to keep from harm those who were guilty of having assisted him in the incipient step towards escape. The safety of the adventurers now rested upon clerity of movement. It was decided to not divide the force, but to take the prisoners, gagged and bound, with them to the carcel. The dispositions all being made, the sentinel whom Ruiz had substituted for the one on post, was instructed to allow no one to enter the house during their absence at the carcel. Manuel was well posted as to the character of the low type of the Mexican soldier, and finding that the orderly and the sentinel he had relieved were enlisted convicts, he had no trouble in persuading them to join him, under promise^ of good rations and pay, besides short 378 GUY RAYMOND. service. This inducement, coupled with the assurance that t Texans were virtually in possession of the town, settled their cases, and they fell into line with their muskets. The expedition moved off as the regular patrol No. 1, with Bonito's house as their d tination. CHAPTER LIT. The time did not drag with Guy after Ruiz left him to meet Karnes and the boat. The moments glided by on the fleet wings of congenial intercourse. The beautiful woman whose face had haunted his dreams, whose being seemed to have become unaccount- ably interwoven with his own through the mysterious operations of love, was his companion. For the first time, in close communion, they read in each other's eyes the decree of fate which assigned to them a common pathway through the fields which mortals tread. It was the intuition of natural selection, the magnetism of an as- similation which never fails to become active when subjected to the blended forces of circumstance and opportunity that converged the paths of these two beings until they blended, to point the way through a future, tinted with the hues of anticipated joys and roseate with the hopes born of youth and health and virtuous lives. They im- proved the opportunity and were barely conscious of a call made for Father Ignacio to attend to some spiritual duty. Linda was a wit- ness to a devotion which inspired in her a nameless content, that while it soothed yet pained, which brought a joy mingled with a dropping tear. The cooing of the doves afforded an interesting pic- ture, but it failed to arrest a burning desire to witness the departure of the one in danger. Linda, in fact, was awed by a conscious super- iority of the lovers to herself. Her sphere was more humble. The peculiarities of her father debased him to the plane of monomania, if it fell short of an alienation. The quiet which reigned without was the counterpart of the peace which prevailed where love held his sway. The moments sped until the first hour of morning began to grow, when the stillness of the plaza was broken by the hum of voices in seeming altercation. The disturbance was followed a liti later by the return of Father Ignacio, who appeared worried ai excited. To looks of earnest inquiry, he remarked : "A spy has witnessed your presence here, Senor Raymond, am squad of the patrol has been sent to arrest you and all who are to found in this place."' "And Ruiz? Has he been heard from?" "I know not, senor. I met the patrol at the gate and throus GUY RAYMOND. 379 my influence kept them out until I could get time to notify you." "We will defend the house/' said Guy. "But you are one; they are many." "Miguel is here/' said Beatrice. "We will hold out until overpowered, at all events. It would be base to surrender to the cut- throats and be led like sheep to execution. Father, you had better retire." "No, my son; I will remain to absolve you, for resistance will bo certain death. I believe that with your last breath you will see the light of faith/' Strong blows on the graden gate now were heard, showing the de- termination of the sergeant to carry his orders into execution. At this juncture Linda pleaded that they all should repair to the hall, which, while it could be taken by the attacking party, was a stronger position, with only two communications, one leading into her anart- ment, the other opening into the court. Both were furnished with stout oaken doors, capable of great resistance. Father Ignacio sec- onded the suggestion of Linda; Beatrice urged its adoption and Guy yielded to their persuasion. The party was only well behind the bar- ricaded door of the hall when the attacking party burst into the room just vacated. With a yell of disappointment they dealt blows upon the stout door, which alone remained between them and their prey. Guy stood calmly by, armed with his rifle and a heavy naval cutlass, the property of Bonito, which Linda had procured from her father's room. Miguel, towering above the others, stood close to his mistress, with determination in his eye and Jose's discarded bar in his hand, ready to do execution in her service. Guy's object was to keep the patrol at bay until the arrival of Euiz, which he felt sure could not be long delayed. His only trouble was his ignorance of the exact status of affairs, the size of the attacking party and the support they would have within the next hour. These and a hundred other thoughts passed through his mind while he watched the door and re- plied mechanically to remarks of the ladies, who were wonderfully self possessed, despite the danger which menaced them. Guy pre- vailed upon them to enter Bonito's room, but they filled its door- way watching the defenders. Father Ignacio walked the floor, saying his rosary with a depth of earnestness that indicated his belief in the great danger which menaced his friend. Finally the blows on the door ceased, while a hubbub of voices, mixed with oaths, came from the assailants. Guy was listening to catch the import of their words, when suddenly the court door rattled and a voice not to be mistaken called excitedly : 380 GUY RAYMOND. "Linda! Linda! Abra la pnerta ! r "It is my father," said Linda. "Go, Linda, and ask who is with him," said Guy. Linda obeyed. "He is alone, but there is a sentinel in the court," she reported. "Admit him, Miguel, but close the door quick." The mozo did as he was ordered. Bonito entered. "In the name of all the saints, what is this? El pajarro with my ol cutlass. Y este gigante gigante Miguel with a club el padre saying his beads and por Dios the Senorita Navarro ? This is the night of nights. Linda you have roused the hornets. The drunken patrol are sacking my house, while the notary lies dead in his blood upon the floor of his office." "Be quiet, Bonito ! This is a serious moment. I wish to hear every sound from that room," said Guy. "Serious ! I should say, but serious to me. How came you out of the cell without passing the sentinel? You are as supple as a spirit. Has Ruiz also turned to vapor and floated out through the gratings? Come, senor, although it is useless, you must go back to your cell. "I have sent my surplus sentinel to report this drunken mob to head- quarters. With you in the cell and the mob in the guard house I "They are no mob, Bonito. They have orders to arrest me, who have escaped from my cell. I will not surrender. At present I command here. Go to your room and be quiet or it may be the worse for you." Bonito regarded his prisoner for a moment. Guy's determined expression had its effect and Bonito shuffled off to his room. As he passed the priest, he gave him a look of significance, as he nodd( his head towards Guy and muttered : "Pajarro tan fuerte y bravo !" The blows again began to rain upon the door, but this time wil regularity and a concussion which indicated force sufficient enough to effect its demolition. The crash came sooner than anticipated. Half the splintered door fell in and a soldier jumped into the hall, only to be felled by the giant Miguel. A shout from the priest, screams from the ladies, an anathema from Bonito, the report of Guy's rifle were mingled with the yells of the Mexicans as they worked on the remain- ing panel to enlarge the passage. Guy threw aside his gun and bran- dished the cutlass for work at close quarters, when amid the din caught familiar shouts that could <-<>mr alone from American throats "Texas and liberty! Clean out the greasers!" he : L-l J.J. ? GUY EAYMOND. 381 The words electrified him. He sprang through the breach, and circling the deadly blade, he dealt telling blows right and left. Guy's leap anticipated the giant's, who followed the courageous youth and protected him from more than one bayonet thrust. The melee was at its height, when Beatrice fell almost fainting at the side of her lover, who was closely pressed by three or four soldiers with clubbed muskets. Guy ordered Miguel to carry her back, while having recovered some of his wind, he dealt still more vigorous blows at his adversaries, whom he was pressing back, when welcome cries again rent the air. "Clean 'em up, boys ! Old Nathan's in the lead." The entrance pell mell from the garden of eight or ten Mexicans followed this characteristic cry. The long anatomy of Nathan Eoach followed, while he gave rapid blows with his clubbed musket. The appearance in quick succession of Hamilton, Perry, Karnes and Jones, cheering at the top of their voices, indicated a victory. The Mexi- cans in the room threw down their arms and begged for quarter on their knees. The rescuers sprang forward and grasped the hand of Guy, who stood panting for breath, his cutlass red with blood and his own arm bleeding. The scene in the room at this moment verged upon the chaotic. Karnes and Ruiz shook hands with Guy, and then began their hur- ried preparations for the retreat, which, in all the programme, was to be the most difficult as to its safe accomplishment, and was to be the all important act to crown the expedition with success. Linda was comforting Beatrice, just without in the hall. Father Ignacio was not a moment after Guy in entering the scene of conflict, but from the fury of the fight, his pacific efforts were futile, and his offices were effective only when the din had given place to low moans and cries of suffering. His first act was to congratulate Guy and request Ruiz to tie up the wound in the hero's arm. Bonito stood in the hall door, apparently speechless, surveying the general wreck in the apartment and contemplating the damage to his domicile. He was roused from his reverie by a loud knocking at the court door. 'Tor mi vida!" he exclaimed. "What is next?" "Open that door!" commanded Ruiz. '"You, have waked up with a vengenace," said the jailer, as he moved to obey the order, remembering in all the excitement how Ruiz had always been asleep in the far corner of the cell whenever he had gone to minister to the prisoner's wants. Bonito turnd the bolt in the lock with some misgiving as what 382 GUY EAYMOND. was to appear. The creaking of the bolt was followed by an im- patient push from the outside that in no little degree disturbed his center of gravity, and which under the more favorable circumstances of his wonted authority, would have called forth an interminable jower on his part. The first person who appeared was the sentinel, whose enforced entrance was apparent from the rope around his body which seemed to have pinioned his arms together with his mus- ket in one embrace. Two soldiers, neither having guns, had the luckless sentry in charge, and brushing the fat jailer aside, they conducted their prisoner into the room just as Ruiz had finished binding up Guy's wound. The latter, looking with surprise at the new comers, Manuel whispered to him that his cousin Trevino and Jose had captured the sentinel by lassoing him from the top of the wall, thus securing the last of the force who was at liberty to spread the news of the raid. When Bonito was forced aside by Trevino and Jose, he was thrown over towards the other side of the hall, the impetus of the movement carrying him to and seating him upon the lounge. To his further dismay the concealment to his trap gave way, Miguel's temporary repairs having proven unequal to the task of supporting his weight. "Otra mala fortuna I" he exclaimed, as the opening to the regions below was plainly visible. As the attention of everyone was fixed upon more exciting de- tails, neither the jailers fall nor the derangement of the trap were noticed. This becoming apparent to him, Bonito easily let himself down the opening and disappeared into the vault. A hasty council of war was now inaugurated to consider some points of embarrass^ ment which the unforseen incidents of the night had raised to con- fuse the plan of procedure. It would not be prudent to take the dozen or so prisoners through the streets to attract attention, or to cumber their movements in case of an attack, when defensive energies could not brook the restraint which their surveillance would impose. Kuiz and Karnes admitted Guy to the conference, and the three moved to one side for an exchange of opinions, while to Hamilton was entrusted the) duty to get the prisoners together in line and to see that they retained no description of weapon. The elegant Mississippian felt his importance at once. "Mr. Roach ! Marshal the prisoners already in the house. "Mr. Jones ! Go out and get that bundle of buttons and gold lace and his two companions and let them fall in with the inside greasers. "Perry! Excuse me Mr. Asbury! When the line is formed, go through their pockets and examine their blouses for weapons, GUY RAYMOND. 383 offensive or defensive, everything, from a jack knife to an Arkansas tooth-pick." Hamilton gave vent to these orders in rapid words and with an air of authority. Nathan was rather mystified as to the bounds of his instructions as embodied in the term "marshal." He was quite sure he was to dispose of the captured greasers, but whether it was meant that he should employ the summary measures of Mexican custom or Indian practice, or the more humane mode of his own civilization, he was somewhat at a loss. " 'Pears to me, Mister Hamilton, that Perry's orders orter been given fust, as l'.se got to dispose of 'em. I 'spose you want me to choose the way, seem' you didn't say ef I was to do it injun fashion, or greaser fashion, or how." "Get them together, you elongated specimen of the genus homo. Put the prisoners into line, everyone that's able to stand." "Now you're talkin' 'Merican, or, at least, part was. Come, you yaller-bellies, get into line." The prisoners not comprehending, Nathan seized one by the col- lar and put him in position, and kept repeating the act until he had eight of the captured men in the required positions. Perry, who had been waiting the movements of Roach, deftly searched the men, capturing two sheath knives. Jones, who had been sent for the outsiders, returned after a few moments with the lieutenant and Sancho, reporting Ducio could not be found. This item of intelligence at once adjourned the council of war, as the escape of the Creole meant mischief to them. "How came he to escape?" questioned Ruiz of the man who had been placed in charge of the three captured at headquarters. "He did not escape, senor. A man, whom I supposed had been sent by you, came up only a moment ago and said that you wanted the Frenchman, and I allowed him to leave. He and your supposed messenger, I thought, entered this house." "Describe the messenger." "He was a youth of slender build, and by the light of my cig- arette I saw he wore a red sash." "Fool ! How could you turn over a prisoner to a stranger ? Search the garden." The garden was quickly beat up, but no sign of the missing Ducio could be seen. When Jones was entering the house to report the news of Ducio's >, two figures, one tall and muscular, the other slender and of 384 GUY KAYMOND. medium height, stole quietly from beneath the banana tree in the dark corner and hurried, unobserved, out into the plaza. Inside the excitement bordered on confusion. Under the escort of Guy, all the prisoners, except the lieutenant and Sancho were marched quickly to the court and thence to the cells, a demand for the keys having been promptly met by Linda, who pro- cured them from her father's room. Every captured man able to be moved was thus safely jailed. Preparations for departure were now at once begun. The men were formed in the court to resemble the regular patrol, the two re- maining prisoners being placed in the center of the column, and here they awaited the order to move. In Bonito's room Beatrice and Linda, each with an arm encircling the others waist, stood in tearful anxiety. The scenes they had witnessed, trying as they were, were as naught compared with the dread which would creep into their hearts lest the termination of the adventure should prove more tragical still. The danger was yet ahead. When Guy entered to say good-bye the priest and Linda con- siderately left the apartment. "Oh, Guy! The danger which surrounds you emboldens me to cast aside reserve," said Beatrice, throwing herself into her lover'? arms. 1 Guy held her to his breast for a moment, then pushing her to arm's length, he looked yearningly into the depths of her eyes. "Beatrice, it is hard to part at the very moment when the light of your love first dawns upon me. It is hard to think that the dangers which await me this night may be the arbiter of our fates; that two lives seemingly destined to flow in unison throughout a hopeful fu- ture, may be this day separated by the destruction of one. I go to meet whatever exigency may be in waiting with that calm and cool philosophy which alone is worthy of the dignity of true manhood. You will be sustained by the comforting assurances of your subtle faith. Therefore in this, our parting moment, let us rise above human weakness, and resting our cause with human virtue and human courage, we will rely upon our own inherent powers to survive all casualties and overcome all obstacles which may intervene to pre- vent a happy reunion." "Oh, noble Guy ! I pray that I may be worthy of a love so true as yours. My heart goes with you and if and if oh, Guy !" "Darling, I must be going. Every moment builds up more danger in my path, and for your dear sake I would live." A> : GUY EAYMOND. 385 He embraced her tenderly, then tore himself away. As he passed through the court he took leave of the priest and Linda. From the latter he claimed and received a sister's kiss, bestowed in a manner denoting affection, but with a fervor that caused the recipient to recall the circumstance more than once in the next few hours. In the court Euiz, as sergeant, took charge, and giving his com- mands in Spanish, put the squad in motion. As they filed out into the street, Father Ignacio looked after them from the narrow entrance and, making the sign of the cross, he mut- tered the blessing: "Dominus vobiscum." The light shone from the Cabeza de Toro, where a knot of men stood in the doorway. The captive, Sancho, deeming this a good opportunity to give notice of his detention and the true character of the party, yelled at the top of his voice : "These are rebels ! Help ! Help I" "Take that for your pains," said Hamilton, clubbing him with his musket. "Another cry and you are a dead man," said Ruiz in Spanish. Sturdily they moved along the broken streets, the walls echoing their measured tread, with no other sounds save the commands of Ruiz, uttered in mimicry of the regular sergeant greeting whatever ears were on the qui vive. The hostile city was sleeping in fancied security, strong in its appointments for defense in its guards and outposts, little dreaming that a daring band of "Gringos" had by strat- egy penetrated its very heart and seized the military headquarters. The party safely gained the vicinity of headquarters into which they turned, and receiving the challenge from the sentinel still on duty, Ruiz announced his party as the patrol, and givng the counter- sign, passed on back of the building to the veranda. Much de- pended now upon time. Ruiz had a duty to perform, which he had to postpone on account of the information given by Ducio, and the consequent descent of the patrol on the carcel. Now the same slip- pery Frenchman was at large ready to bring down the whole gar- rison upon them. He concluded that it was necessary to dare in order to accomplish. He had the convicts on his hands and numbers were a disadvantage, unless they were large numbers. Ruiz was equal to the emergency, :uid ho speedily gave his orders: "Mr. Hamilton, you will have the prisoner, Sancho, here; no, not tluil. bundle of lace; this fellow; have him and those two volun- teer convicts bound and gagged. Also similarly secure those fellows e 386 GUT RAYMOND. in the guard-room. Lieutenant, you will follow me into your office and get me out some papers. If you are quick and obedient it will be well for you, but hesitate a moment and your dead carcass will be food for the river fish." "I'd like his coat/' said Nathan. "Tarnation! with that a' coa I'd git a ferlo and turn half the gals crazy on the Sabine." "Silence I" said Karnes. "Every mother's son keep quiet/' Hamlton carried out the orders to bind and gag the prisoners, while Ruiz was in the office with the lieutenant. In a few minutes the two latter returned, Ruiz tapping his breast pocket in reply to an inquiry from Karnes, signifying that he had the papers. "Who was that one wanting this pretty coat?" asked Ruiz. "Me!" answered Nathan. "Well, Mr. Me, you can have it. This fellow told me a lie while in that office, and to punish him I am going to make him give up his coat. I know he would almost as soon die as to lose it. Mr. Lieutenant, pull off that coat." The officer reluctantly complied. Ruiz took the garment, and pitching it to Nathan, the latter caught it on his bayonet. "A hole in it to start on and nary a needlefull of darnin' cotton left!" Nathan's remark, uttered in a doleful tone, inspired a laugh, which, in spite of the danger of discovery, was indulged in by the whole party. The lieutenant was gagged and sent to keep company with th other captives. Karnes ordered the men to the river to begin th retreat at once. At the suggestion of Trevino, himself, Jose and the three me: whom he had brought from his camp were ferried across the river so that they could make a detour to the Alameda. After this w successfully effected, the sentinel was called off and the old ere embarked, with Guy along to augment their number. CHAPTER LIII. Sunday night had been appointed by Ducio Halfen as an occasion for a long interview with his new friend, the Senorita de la Torre; but the impulsive Creole could not resist the temptation to impart to the authorities his discovery of the suspicious appearances of GUY RAYMOND. 387 affairs at the carcel. His capture by the raiding band under Karnes and Ruiz prevented him from a later fulfillment of the engagement. The no less impulsive Josef a was wroth at the non-appearance of Ducio, and in 'doubt as to what should have made him a truant to the tryst, she finally determined to ascertain, if possible, the cause of his absence. No better mode suggesting itself than a resort to the disguise which she had employed on a former occasion, she leisurely donned her male attire, hoping that ere her toilet would be completed, Ducio might make his appearance. When she finally sallied forth it was in time to reach the plaza as the fight between the raiders and the entrapped patrol was at its height. A strong presentiment led her to believe that the truant Ducio was in some way mixed up in the affair, and the magnetism of the idea drew her closer and closer to Linda's gate. The compromising position in which she had discovered him on the very night before, in the apartment of the pretty daughter of the jailer, might have had something to do with her suspicion that Ducio was again haunting the same locality. At all events Josefa found herself close to the wall door as the combat ceased, and was very little surprised when, of three voices heard near the gate, she recognized one as belonging to him whom she was seeking. "What will this end in?" said one voice. "The town will surely find out that something is wrong, and the news will reach the officers on duty," said another voice. "Lieutenant, this does not look much like the well-appointed military government of which you were boasting a while ago." This last was Ducio's voice. "Keep silent!" ordered the guard, who had charge of them. Josefa edged up close to them, and when the guard lighted a cigarette she plainly saw the features of Ducio. A. whispered inquiry made her presence known to the latter, and at the same time drew from him enough to apprise her of the situation. She rapidly conceived and boldly carried out the ruse which, as already related, set Ducio free. The latter^s first idea was revenge for his capture. He prevailed upon his liberator to allow him to accompany her home, before he hurried to alarm the garrison. "Have you arranged for our departure?" she asked. "Tomorrow, or at furthest, Tuesday, if nothing will prevent." "Then come early tomorrow and we will discuss those plans YMI -poke of. There must be an understanding, you know." "Ivxpect me early. I will be in a better mood tomorrow to 388 GUY EAYMOND. thank you for this night's work. Good night, Josefa." "Adios until tomorrow." Ducio hurried away and made all haste to apprise the officer of the day of the rebel invasion of the place. To do this he was compelled to seek that officer either at the Alamo, or at the camp on the small peninsula just below the mill ford. At both of these places was stationed a distinct section of the guard, with prescribed limits of duty similar to the section which had been captured at headquarters. Fearful of recapture, he avoided the Main street route, and turned his steps to the Alamo. "Pull away, right oar! There now together so. Attend to your muffle, Mr. Jones; your oar is striking the bare rowlock. Euiz, you will have to say when we reach those points you spoke of." "All right, Mr. Karnes. There will be two places to bother us the mill above the ford and the getting around that peninsula, where a section of the guard is camped." "I wish we could return the way we came." "That the current won't allow; while down stream it will assist us to escape," explained Euiz. "We left in good time," continued Manuel, "for the hounds are upon our trail. Do you hear those yells? That French scoundrel has put in his work." "There is a racket about something, and I suppose it's us they are yelling about." "The boat will mystify them," suggested Euiz. "I don't know about that," said Guy, as the boat turned a sharp bend and brought to view a light over the river. "If I mistake not, that is held from the Main street bridge to disclose our presence." "I believe Senor Eaymond is right," said Euiz, "and a fellow is holding the torch." "It will never do to run into that light," said Karnes. "Slow up, men!" The boat slackened her pace. The tiller brought her under the deep shadows of a line of willows which extended along the left bank to within a hundred yards or so from the bridge. "Pull slow and steady," was the next command. "Allow me to suggest something," said Guy. "That's what I'd like," replied Karnes. "It is this. Pull easily until Euiz here thinks we are in rifle distance. Then I will guarantee to make that fellow drop, and perhaps drop that light into the river." "If you feel confidence enough in your marksmanship, it is a GUT RAYMOND. 389 bargain; but Mr. Raymond, there are two or three of the finest shots in Texas in this boat/' "I will give way to any one, Mr. Karnes, for the work, but not in point of marksmanship. I had no equal among the Lipans." "The horse thievin' critters," put in Nathan. "I vote that Mr. Raymond be the one to plug that son of - Mexico/' said Hamilton. "Well, sir, he shall have the honor, as he spoke of it first," said the commander. "The only thing to consider is: will it be the best to shoot him, and show our position?" "We have no time to lose," said Ruiz. "We can draw up close to the bank, and they will never be the wiser of our position. If the torch is put out we can pass under the bridge before they can renew it, if indeed anyone will dare to hold another torch, to be shot at." "Your argument is good," said the commander. "Mr. Raymond, get ready for the work. Mr. Ruiz will inform you about the distance, as he is familiar with these parts." The boat had been slowly feeling its way under the branches of the willows and had probably reached the proper distance, for Karnes had scarcely finished speaking when Ruiz said to Guy: "Are you well loaded?" "Good for one hundred and fifty yards," replied Guy. "Get ready, then." "I'll bring her closer to the bank," said Karnes, sweeping the water astern with his broad paddle. "Then Perry, get hold of that willow branch and let her swing with the current to give Mr. Ray- mond a steady aim, for he's got a hard shot to make." "No matter about that," said Guy, bringing to his shoulder the rifl.e that had made many a deer and buffalo drop, up on the San Saba. A hanging branch interfered for a moment. Silence prevailed while the marksman awaited his opportunity. All eyes were turned upon the light, which moved a little up and down with the unsteady hands of the holder, whose face was at the moment visible as he leaned upon the rail, apparently watching the river. The report of Guy's rifle, sharp and clear, was followed instantly by the falling of the torch into the swift current under the bridge. "Pull away with a will!" instantly came from the commander's lips. "All keep silent !" The boat was brought about and headed down stream. Under the vigorous strokes of the rowers the craft fairly leaped through 390 GUY RAYMOND. the water, and in another moment had swiftly shot under and past the bridge. A confusion of voices overhead, the tramp of feet, a few discharges of firearms, the latter perhaps in random reply to Guy's telling shot, were evidences that the mystified enemy was on the alert, but had failed to catch a glimpse of the boat, and if any sounds, unavoidably produced in its management, had greeted hostile ears, they but served to further confuse and mystify them. The rapidity of the current soon brought the boat well into the pool above the dam, where stood the old mill, and where the foot-bridge crossed just below it, spanning the swift and narrow race, and overlooking the little island whose cress-covered surface was half submerged by the escaping waters pouring through the fissures in the low rock wall. It was here that Guy was arrested, while engaged in the diver- sion of throwing Roll a into the water. Upon this foot-bridge Ruiz had informed Karnes a sentinel would be encountered, and as it would be necessary to lift the boat from the water and to carry it over the dam, the post would have to be captured, or the risk of detection incurred, in which latter event an alarm would be communi- cated to the guard on the peninsula a few hundred yards below. It having been decided to take the smaller risk, the boat was landed at the eastern end of the low wall, composing the dam where it joined the bank. Ruiz volunteered to take four men, with whom he proposed to accomplish the capture of the sentinel, who was sup- posed to be posted at the usual place on the bridge near the mill. Hamilton, Jones, Roach and the Mexican guide, having beer, assigned to the duty of acting with Ruiz, the latter formed them in line with fixed bayonets. After imparting to them the proposed mode of procedure, he enjoined perfect silence, and marched them by twos to the bridge. Once upon the boards they imitated the regular tramp of the Mexican patrol. As they neared the mill the sentinel's clear challenge was heard : "Quienes?" The men were promptly halted and Ruiz replied that he was sergeant of a portion of the patrol in search of some parties w were disturbing the town. "Advance, sergeant, and give the countersign." "Monterey," returned the sham sergeant. The unsuspecting sentinel made room for the passage of the supposed patrol, who were put in motion when the. former affirmed tin; correctness of tho pass-word. When they arrived to within almost reach of (lie scniind, the latter, in spite of the assent which he had given to their purpose to pass, gave a yell of alarm and dis- GUY RAYMOND. 391 charged his piece. Tn response, Nathan, who was nearest to him, clubbed him with his musket, felling him f ( > (he | )r i,| uv floor, whence he rolled into the river. Rui/ at once comprehended the danger of their discovery by a detachment which the report of (he gun would inevitably bring down upon them from the peninsula A retreat to the boat could not be made without encountering the expected contingent. All this flashed through his mind, and in an instant he formed his decision. "Compadre!" he said to the Mexican guide. "Swap coats with me. T wish to get rid of these sergeant's stripes." The exchange of uniforms was quickly made. "Now/ 7 continued Ruiz, addressing the men, "Go right back to where the other end of the bridge touches the island, and get under it near the steps. Remain there as still as death, until we can know what effect that shot will have on the guard over there. I will stay here raid play sentinel. Quick! Men, I can hear the storm coming." The men obeyed the order promptly, and were the next moment stowed away beneath the steps which rose from the little island to the level of the foot-bridge. Ruiz walked his post. He was not deceived as lo the character of noises he heard when he urged his little squad to make haste to con real' themselves. They were the premonitions of a danger that he must somehow averl. Before he had time to mature a plan ihe tramp of men at a run was heard upon the bridge connecting Ihe further hank with the island. An instant more and they were upon him. His chal- lenge halted them. Ruiz took care to mimic the voice of the sentinel whom they had put hors du combat. The party announced its character, and the officer in charge demanded the cause of the tiring. The bogus sentinel replied: "Some men fried io force a passage over the bridge. When I fired they ran." "Citizens or soldiers?" "I could not tell in this darkness, but I could see one who came nearest to me was very tall, and sergeant, I suspect that they were rehols, for when I came on post, a Frenchman met the relief and asked for direction to the General's, saying that a force of rebels had taken the office at headquarters, and had captured the carcel and turned loose the prisoners." "Which way did these fellows run who tried to pass here?" 392 GUY EAYMOND. "Back towards the carcel." "Then I'll follow them. Come, men, to the carcel !" The squad took the double-quick step and were soon out of hearing. Euiz called up his men. "To the boat! No time to lose now!" The party made all haste to where Karnes was preparing the boat for transportation overland for a distance of forty or fifty yards, across the neck of the peninsula. This work was performed by the entire party, who, four on each side, lifted their brave little craft, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction to see it safely launched below the point they had most dreaded to pass. At the command of Karnes all of the men, including the cap- tured sentinel, were soon in their places ready to shove off, except Euiz and Guy, who still lingered. The latter, with one foot upon the bow, seemed ready to enter, but Euiz detained him. "You must come with us," Guy was saying. "No, Senor Eaymond. I have a duty yet unperformed, and it will require my presence in town a few more hours to give it my attention. If I have good luck I will join you in camp tomorrow night. These papers I would like to have delivered to General B -. You will be prepared to give him much information in regard to the garrison here/' Saying this, Euiz wrung Guy's hand and turned abruptly away into the darkness. As soon as Guy had taken his place aboard Nathan pushed the : boat from the shore and once more it was headed down the stream. Before them the darkness was too great to detect the sharp turns of the river and cautious rowing and a rapid current were depended upon for guidance, rather than to the dexterity of Karnes and his broad paddle. Behind them the score of lights and the ; increasing hub-bub of an excited garrison was soon lost to eye and j ear. The torturous course of the river and the difficulties of navigation | were impediments preventing a speedy termination of the boat's I passage to the destination of its adventurous crew. The gray dawn J was visible in the east, when Karnes gave the order to haul the I craft on the bank preparatory to a resort to camps, by way of the ] Mission of Concepcion, whose venerable walls rose darkly above the I tree tops, about a quarter of a mile distant. The party were in j high spirits on account of the success of the expedition, and they 1 GUY EAYMOND. 393 gave full vent to their hilarity as they struggled along over ground so suggestive of incidents of the late battle, allusions to which were indiscriminately made with other remarks on their later and more thrilling experience. Nathan's long stride kept him well in advance, necessitating now and then a turn and halt, to guarantee an audience for an occasional sally or a rejoinder to some half comprehended thrust from Hamilton. Every act and word of the backwoodsman was eminently characteristic, and the comedy of shape and movement were illy disguised beneath the hostile uniform, scant and ill fitting, which covered his own slick homespun. At each turn he made, the flashy lace of the Mexican lieutenant's coat, which depended from his left arm, shone in conspicuous contrast with his rough attire. At the jacal, in the rear of the mission, Locaria still presided, and here, awaiting the returning party, was Mr. Trigg, anxious to greet the boy he had lost on the banks of the Salado, "Guy, me boy I" "Mr. Trigg!" The two indulged in a hearty embrace. Guy's look eloquently conveyed the intelligence of the strong desire burning within him. The scene on the Salado on that eventful Sunday morning rose vividly before him, and he felt the full weight of the impression that, in his presence, were lips that could unfold what to him had been so long a sealed uncertainty. Mr. Trigg comprehended the mute appeal. "Wait a spell, me boy. In the camp beyond I will have ye to myself, and I will tell ye the whole sad story. Meantime, be com- forted in the knowledge that the girl is safe and happy as a girl can be, who only hopes she will see her dear brother." Guy pressed the hand of his friend, and was about to express thanks, when the wail of a woman claimed every one's attention. The cry came from Locaria, as she threw herself upon the Mexican prisoner, who stood with bound hands in the rear, unno- ticed except by Perry, who had been placed over him as guard. When explanations of her strange conduct followed, the captured sentinel proved to be her brother, who had been impressed into the service of Mexico. On learning this, the prisoner was promptly released, his sister guaranteeing that he would henceforward be true to Texas. 394 GUY EAYMOND. CHAPTEK LIV. After Guy sufficiently recovered from the shock which the story of the fate of his family, as detailed from the lips of his Irish friend, had given him, he began to turn his attention to the situation of affairs among the forces arrayed against the city he had just left. The small expedition which had penetrated the lines, captured the headquarters of the enemy, released him from prison and extricated itself by a bold push through his entire position, set him to thinking of the feasibility of capturing the place by a proper utilization of American pluck. Behind him, in their power, remained Beatrice, who had more or less compromised herself by aiding in his escape. This impression, perhaps the master influence in support of his idea, gave earnestness to his manner and eloquence to his tongue when, in seeking headquarters to deliver Ruiz's commission to General B , he urged the policy of an immediate attack on the town. He became more determined than ever to rouse the men of the several commands to the necessity of the movement, when, on the following day, he received news of the arrest of both Beatrice and Linda. The latter intelligence was brought by Euiz, who suddenly appeared in camp on Wednesday morning, having successfully passed the lines the night before. The mess were at breakfast when Manuel arrived, and having made a place for him at the log table, they invited him to impart his news from the city. "Do you want to hear it all ?" "All \" cried several voices. "Begin where you left us at the boat," suggested Jones. "Give us the plain, unvarnished, Ruiz; no elephantine embellish- ment's," said Hamilton, cutting his eye at Jones. "Well," said Ruiz, "after leaving you all at the boat, I boldly struck out for the Alameda, to see if my cousin, Trevino, had arrived safely back to his tent. By skirting the east side of the Alamo ditch, I did not meet any one, and found Trevino looking as fresh and innocent as an angel. A special patrol had just left his camp, after poking their noses into everything to see if they could get at a sign of a rebel having been that way. After a short stay, I went to Main street, passing over the bridge where you made that fine shot, Senor Raymond. A company of infantry was just passing over it at the time, going, I suppose, to help catch the rebel force, so I fell in behind them and passed unchallenged to the plaza. Headquarters GUY RAYMOND. 395 was like a beehive into which you had poked a stick. The yard was swarming with soldiers, and officers were hurrying about. I imitated everybody else and moved about, noticing and listening. I caught parts of the talk about the rebels, who had come and disappeared so suddenly, and was much amused. Some thought spirits had done the work as men in the flesh could not have disappeared. My name was mentioned several times as having led the parly. ?md I found that this came from the lieutenant of the staff, the loss of whose uniform seemed to be generally known. Having heard it mentioned that Linda and the Senorita Navarro had been aiders in the escape of the prisoners at the carcel, I went to Bonito to try to hear from the ladies. Bonito was fussing about, directing two mozos, whom he had employed to set to rights the desecrated apartment of his daughter. The old fellow was viewing the wreck of his inner door, one panel of which he was holding up to its place in an aimless attempt to make it stay there. " 'No mas mala fortuna !' he was saying to himself. "With my cap pulled down over my face, I disguised my voice and spoke to him: " 'Senor, are you the jailer?' " 'I am, amigo, but not for long. I am going to quit. A jailer has only misfortunes. You see, amigo