The Missourian

by Eugene P. Lyle

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE RED MONGREL

  "Be this the whetstone of your sword; let grief Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it." --_Macbeth_.

  "Where," inquired Din Driscoll, with a benevolent interest in theirdoing the thing right, "is the judge advocate?"

  Colonel Miguel Lopez resented what he took for a patronizing concern. Itfestered his complacency, for his was the code of the bowed neck tothose above and the boot-tip for those below. Luckily for him, he didnot strike the helpless prisoner. He turned to his judge's benchinstead, which was none other than the frayed and stately sofa of honorfrom the hacienda sala, deemed requisite to his dignity. The satinupholstery contrasted grotesquely with the adobe walls. Pungent tallowdips lighted the granary to a dull yellow, and mid the sluggish tobaccoclouds were a shrinking prisoner in clerical black, and the mildlyinterested prisoner in gray, and red uniforms surrounding.

  Lopez flung his sword across the empty box that was to serve as desk,and filled the crimson seat with pompous menace. Lopez was a Mexican,but did not look it. He had red hair and a florid skin, and he waslarge, with great feet and coarse hands. Yet the high cheek bones of anIndian were his. The contrast of coloring and features unpleasantlysuggested a mongrel breed. The eyes had red lids, out of which thelashes struck like rusted needles, and the eyes themselves, of a fadedblue, seemed to fawn an excuse for Nature's maladjusting. But he had agoodly frame on which to hang the livery of a king's guardsman. And asthe cross of the Legion of Honor ticketed his breast, he must have beena goodly man too, and his Maker's insignia only a libel. Once Maximilianhad said, "What, Bebello, and art thou a better judge of men than I, thymaster and the master of men?" For it seemed that Bebello, the simplehound, had read Nature's voucher instead of Napoleon's, and being thusdeceived, would ever snarl at the Colonel of Dragoons. Maximilian ofcourse knew better. What looked like toadying was only profounddeference for himself. The royal favorite could discriminate. He couldalso be the thick-headed, intolerable martinet. The sandy lashesbristled as the American inquired a second time if he were to havecounsel.

  "Being president of this court," Lopez announced, "I am judge advocate."

  In the tone of congratulation Driscoll blandly said, "Well, then, Ichallenge the president."

  "Challenge?"

  "Certainly, Your Honor. It's my right, either on the ground ofinexperience, malice, or--but I reckon the first two will do."

  "This is insolence!" cried the president, and glaring angrily, hemaintained that it was a regular court martial for the field, and thatas he was the ranking officer at hand, there could be no appeal beyondhimself.

  "A regular drum-head," Driscoll observed. "Well, let it go at that. I'min a hurry."

  Lopez called a lieutenant of Austrian cavalry to his right upon thesofa, and the Dragoon color sergeant to his left, and the three of themsat thenceforth in judgment. The charges were read, and next adeposition, gathered that day from Michel Ney. Therein appeared theAmerican, reinforcing Rodrigo Galan at Tampico, and in so far aiding theabduction of Mademoiselle d'Aumerle.

  "The complicity is evident," stated Lopez, and his colleagues, blinkingat the candles on the box, nodded wisely.

  "It's straight so far," Driscoll agreed, "but the story goes a littlefurther. Does the ma'am'selle herself happen to have left anydeposition?"

  She had, admitted the president, but it merely corroborated theforegoing. Driscoll, in sole charge of his own defence, insisted thather deposition be read, but Lopez would permit no such waste of time. Hewas brooding on Monsieur Eloin usurping his own place near the Emperor,and he wanted to finish the present business so as to overtake themboth.

  Dupin's written evidence provided the rest of the abduction story,seemingly, and there remained only the other charge, that of assistingat the ambush of the murdered Captain Maurel. For this there was noevidence, and the accused himself was examined.

  "Your name?" asked the court.

  "Driscoll."

  "Your full name, hombre?"

  "John Dinwiddie Driscoll, Your Honor."

  "Din--whatever it is--that's not a Christian name?"

  "It was, when I got it. Maybe I've paganized it since."

  "Devil take you, this is solemn!"

  "Yes, this is solemn."

  Lopez cracked his long nails irritably against each other.

  "You came here via Tampico," he began anew. "What days were you inTampico?"

  "From about the twenty-third or twenty-fourth, till we left a few daysago."

  All three judges bent over a memorandum which the president pointed outamong his notes. Captain Maurel was killed about April 26th.

  "How did you occupy yourself while in Tampico?"

  "Mostly trying to persuade Murgie here that it was his move."

  "But your horse needed exercise. Did you at any time ride across theriver?"

  "I didn't notice. Have you anyone who saw me cross?"

  "Goot!" blurted out the Austrian who was one of the judges, so suddenlythat everybody half jumped. "Ya, das iss die cosa, sabe! Who has himseen cross?"

  The court floundered. The witness demanded by the accused was lacking.Murguia, a restless, huddled form on a straw-bottomed chair, waswatching hungrily every step in the examination. Now he shiftedexcitedly, and his sharp jaws worked with a grinding motion. Then hisvoice came, a raucous outburst.

  "Search him, Your Mercy!"

  Lopez browbeat the meddler, and--took his advice. Driscoll submittedtolerantly to their fumbling over him, and all the while Murguia lookedon as a famished dog, especially when they pulled out the whiskey flask.But when they tossed the thing aside, he sank deep into his black coatand gave vent to mumblings.

  "Of course we find nothing," Lopez complained, "since his accomplicerecommended the search."

  It seemed, too, that the state's case must fall.

  "The Captain Maurel charge cannot hold," announced the court.

  "Ya, goot--mucha bueno!" exclaimed the Austrian with enthusiasm, whilethe color sergeant, who had a red nose, wet his lips hopefully. Hebelieved that an acquitted outlaw, if a gentleman, would stand a bottle.

  "And as to the first charge," continued the president, "here is thedeposition of the Senorita d'Aumerle, which I have held till now forthis purpose. Read it, and you will note that though the marquesa bearsout the Senor Ney, she further testifies to the prisoner having latersaved her from this very Rodrigo Galan at peril to himself. Bien,senores, have you any further questions?"

  The Austrian crinkled his brow, and after a momentous pause, shook hishead till his cheeks rattled. The Dragoon promptly replied, "No, micoronel." Then the three withdrew, and when they came back, the Dragoonwiping his lips, they informed the accused that he was not guilty.

  "Which isn't news," said Driscoll as he thanked them.

  Murguia's turn came next. The proof of the old man's guilt blossomedalmost of itself. Jacqueline, to clear her protector, had been forced todepose how Murguia had willingly betrayed her into Rodrigo's hands. Butshe described the old man's reluctance. He would have saved her, exceptfor his terror of the outlaw. The sole case for the defence wasMurguia's character for stinginess; such a miser could not be accused ofaiding the guerrillas. But this very point seemed to heighten Lopez'sprejudice against him. Driscoll, being held to testify, only talkedsociably, and told nothing, and when under the quizzing he finally lostpatience, he said, "Oh, let him go! What's the use?"

  But they were so far from any such thing that they condemned him to beshot.

  Then a voice was heard at the door. The sentinel there stumbled back,and Don Tiburcio brushed by him into the room.

  "Old man," he called, "come with me! Your daughter----"

  Murguia started up, weakly swaying. The senile eyeballs, so latelyparched by fear, swam in a moisture not of avarice. Someone was speakingto him of his daughter. He had not seen her yet. They would not let him.And now he must think of her in this new connecti
on, which was hisdeath. And her misery to learn it, and her misery, afterward! On themorrow they would be taking him to the capital, his sentence would beconfirmed, he would be shot. Nothing of this he doubted. And he wouldnever see her again.

  Murguia stretched out his arms toward the president of the court, "Youwill let me go to her, senor? Your Mercy will let me go to her?" Hemurmured her name over and over, "Maria de la Luz! Maria--Luzita mia!"until the words became a kind of crooning. Then he would break forthagain, entreating, commanding, "Your Mercy will let me see her? Senor,you _will_ let me see her!"

  At the first note of intrusion Lopez had brought the pommel of his sworddown upon the box in front of him. But the syllables of the girl's nameseemed to get into his memory, and he began to stare with a puzzledfrown at the half-crazed old man. Lifting his eyes, he met Tiburcio's,and Tiburcio himself nodded in some deep hidden significance. Lopezstraightened abruptly, as at an astounding revelation.

  "Tell me, Senor Murguia," he said, "your daughter--Yes, yes, man, youshall see her!--But listen, what is she like? Has she large black eyes?Does she wear red sometimes? Come, senor, answer!"

  The father gazed, wonderingly, jealously. How should an elegant officerfrom the City and the Court know aught of Maria de la Luz?

  Tiburcio crept behind the sofa, and bending to Lopez's ear, hewhispered, "Si, si, mi coronel, she is the one you have in mind, and sheis his daughter."

  Lopez swung round and searched the blackmailer's face. "And now----"

  "You will let him come," said Tiburcio. "But bring two guards. And havefour others with--well, with a stretcher."

  Again Lopez searched the dark crescent that was Tiburcio's eye, andagain Tiburcio nodded with deep significance. "Bring him," he repeated,"but tell him nothing. Seeing will be enough."

  Murguia went, unknowing. He would see her, thanks to some freakishkindness in Don Tiburcio. He was torn between the joy of the meeting andthe sharp grief of the parting that must follow. At the time he nevernoticed that they led him up the chapel walk instead of toward thehacienda house. Tiburcio was ahead with a lantern, but when near the topof the hill he turned back to them, yet not before the expectant Lopezhad seen a black something on the pavement under the swinging light.

  "You first, mi coronel," said Tiburcio.

  "I, you mean!" cried Murguia, "I, senor!"

  "But we wish to see first if she is here," said Lopez. "Don Tiburciothought she might be at vespers."

  "Vespers? There are no vespers to-night. Yet we come here! Why? Why dowe come here?"

  Tiburcio motioned to the guards. "Hold him until we return," he ordered.

  A Dragoon reached out a hand indifferently to Murguia's collar, and thatsecond the old man's ten fingers were at his throat. They overpoweredhim at last, but they would have fared better with a wildcat.

  Tiburcio and Lopez went alone. They stopped before the covered thingnear the church door.

  "So," mused the colonel, "she ended it _this_ way."

  "From the tower," Tiburcio grimly added.

  "His----"

  "Well, say it. You mean His Majesty?"

  "His Majesty need know nothing of the--of the finale."

  "Who is there to tell him, por Dios? I won't. You won't."

  "But you forget a third, Don Tiburcio. I mean the man who was with youseveral evenings ago, when you----"

  "When I was carrying off the padre's sweetheart?"

  "When somehow you two happened in this desolate neighborhood. Since youtook his name out of my mouth just now, you must have recognized that itwas His Majesty whom you saw talking to her almost where she now lies. Iwas near by, guarding his privacy, but you both escaped before I couldstop you. Now then, who was that other intruder?"

  The other was Rodrigo Galan, but Tiburcio replied, "The other will nothave much to say. Poor Captain Maurel!"

  "Bueno, bueno!"

  "Not yet, mi coronel. Only we two know of Maximilian's part in this, butwe must keep it from her father above all others. I am a loyalImperialist, Don Miguel."

  "What difference does that make?"

  "The Empire faces a crisis."

  The royal favorite started guiltily. Since the news of the Confederacy'ssurrender, Lopez's ambitions were clouded by a growing fear of thefugitive Mexican republic. The Republic would have a good memory forroyal favorites, and he had been thinking on it. "Will Lee's surrendermake such--such a difference?" he faltered.

  "So much," retorted Tiburcio, "that to-morrow we will have more rebelsyet. So much, that what with freeing peons and confiscating nationalizedchurch lands and giving them back to the church--well, a very littlemore might decide between Empire and Republic."

  "A little more? What do you mean?"

  "I mean money for the rebels. Luz's father is rich. If he knew thatMaximilian----"

  "Hombre, hombre, he's a miser!"

  "Just the same, I'm a loyal Imperialist, and if you are, too, you willtake good care to tell nothing to Don Anastasio."

  "You forget, senor, that I am the one to say that to you."

  "Then don't forget, Colonel Lopez. Do not forget that she fell, that itwas a simple accident."

  "Yes, a simple accident. Wait here, I am going to bring her father."

  On returning Lopez sent the guards away, and he and Murguia were alonetogether. The old man stood dazed, unresisting.

  "One minute more," said Lopez. "First, I must tell you something. Andafterward, you will remember. Yes, you will remember--afterward. Youknow who I am, that I command the Dragoons of the Empress.--Are youlistening? But do you know that, in a way, I am Maximilian's confidant?Whenever he walks or rides, incognito, dressed as a ranchero, I alone gowith him, as I did during the past ten days while we stopped at LasPalmas, three leagues from here. The very first evening there, we tworode out, with our cloaks about us. He likes to commune with nature, andgather curious flowers which he pastes in a book and labels with Latinnames. But this time he was interested in peons, yet as he had adelicacy about prying into his host's business, we rode until we leftLas Palmas behind us. His Majesty would gaze on the hills and look atthe sunset, and he talked to me of a poetic calm about them which madehim long for he knew not what. And Murguia----"

  Here the speaker paused abruptly, and his faded eyes shifted andhardened.

  "And Murguia, we came here, and--he met your child. He met her here, atthis chapel, where she had been to pray for her aunt. Old man, do youhear me, the Emperor met your daughter! Then, next day, instead of goingon with his journey, he complained of a cough, and stayed at Las Palmas.But every evening he rode here, he and I. Once I found a chance to askher her name, but she would only tell her given name.--There, you willremember? Yes, you will--after you have seen her. Come, she is not faraway."