Captain Macklin: His Memoirs

by Richard Harding Davis

  III

  Although I had reached my journey's end, although I had accomplishedwhat I had set out to do, I felt no sense of elation nor relief. Iwas, instead, disenchanted, discouraged, bitterly depressed. It wasso unutterably and miserably unlike what I had hoped to find, what Ibelieved I had the right to expect, that my disappointment and angerchoked me. The picture I had carried in my mind was one of shiningtent-walls, soldierly men in gay and gaudy uniforms, fluttering guidons,blue ammunition-boxes in orderly array, smart sentries pacing theirposts, and a head-quarters tent where busy officers bent over maps andreports.

  The scene I had set was one painted in martial colors, in scarletand gold lace; it moved to martial music, to bugle-calls, to words ofcommand, to the ringing challenge of the sentry, and what I had foundwas this camp of gypsies, this nest of tramps, without authority,discipline, or self-respect. It was not even picturesque. My indignationstirred me so intensely that, as I walked down the hill, I prayed for arude reception, that I might try to express my disgust.

  The officer who had first approached us stopped at the opening of thesolitary tent, and began talking excitedly to someone inside. And as wereached the level ground, the occupant of the tent stepped from it. Hewas a stout, heavy man, with a long, twisted mustache, at which he wastugging fiercely. He wore a red sash and a bandman's tunic, with twostars sewn on the collar. I could not make out his rank, but his firstwords explained him.

  "I am glad to see you at last, Mr. Aiken," he said. "I'm Major Reeder,in temporary command. You have come to report, sir?"

  Aiken took so long to reply that I stopped studying the remarkablecostume of the Major and turned to Aiken. I was surprised to see that hewas unquestionably frightened. His eyes were shifting and blinking, andhe wet his lips with his tongue. All his self-assurance had desertedhim. The officer who had led us to the camp was also aware of Aiken'suneasiness, and was regarding him with a sneer. For some reason thespectacle of Aiken's distress seemed to afford him satisfaction.

  "I should prefer to report to General Laguerre," Aiken said, at last.

  "I am in command here," Reeder answered, sharply. "General Laguerre isabsent--reconnoitering. I represent him. I know all about Mr. Quay'smission. It was I who recommended him to the General. Where are theguns?"

  For a moment Aiken stared at him helplessly, and then drew in a quickbreath.

  "I don't know where they are," he said. "The Panama arrived two daysago, but when I went to unload the guns Captain Leeds told me they hadbeen seized in New Orleans by the Treasury Department. Someone musthave--"

  Both Major Reeder and the officer interrupted with a shout of anger.

  "Then it's true!" Reeder cried. "It's true, and--and--you dare to tellus so!"

  Aiken raised his head and for a moment looked almost defiant.

  "Why shouldn't I tell you?" he demanded, indignantly. "Who else wasthere to tell you? I've travelled two days to let you know. I can't helpit if the news isn't good. I'm just as sorry as you are."

  The other officer was a stout, yellow-haired German. He advanced a stepand shook a soiled finger in Aiken's face. "You can't help it, can'tyou?" he cried. "You're sorry, are you? You won't be sorry when you'repaid your money, will you? How much did you get for us, hey! How muchdid Joe Fiske--"

  Reeder threw out his arm and motioned the officer back. "Silence,Captain Heinze," he commanded.

  The men of the Legion who had happened to be standing near the tent whenwe appeared had come up to look at the new arrivals, and when they heardtwo of their officers attacking Aiken they crowded still closer infront of us, forming a big half-circle. Each of them apparently was on afooting with his officers of perfect comradeship, and listened openly towhat was going forward as though it were a personal concern of his own.They had even begun to discuss it among themselves, and made so muchnoise in doing so that Captain Heinze passed on Reeder's rebuke asthough it had been intended for them, commanding, "Silence in theranks."

  They were not in ranks, and should not have been allowed where theywere in any formation, but that did not seem to occur to either of theofficers.

  "Silence," Reeder repeated. "Now, Mr. Aiken, I am waiting. What have youto say?"

  "What is there for me to say?" Aiken protested. "I have done all Icould. I told you as soon as I could get here." Major Reeder drew closeto Aiken and pointed his outstretched hand at him.

  "Mr. Aiken," he said. "Only four people knew that those guns wereordered--Quay, who went to fetch them, General Laguerre, myself, andyou. Some one of us must have sold out the others; no one else couldhave done it. It was not Quay. The General and I have been here in themountains--we did not do it; and that--that leaves you."

  "It does not leave me," Aiken cried. He shouted it out with such spiritthat I wondered at him. It was the same sort of spirit which makes a ratfight because he can't get away, but I didn't think so then.

  "It was Quay sold you out!" Aiken cried. "Quay told the Isthmian peopleas soon as the guns reached New Orleans. I suspected him when he cabledme he wasn't coming back. I know him. I know just what he is. He's beenon both sides before."

  "Silence, you--you," Reeder interrupted. He was white with anger. "Mr.Quay is my friend," he cried. "I trust him. I trust him as I would trustmy own brother. How dare you accuse him!"

  He ceased and stood gasping with indignation, but his show of angerencouraged Captain Heinze to make a fresh attack on Aiken.

  "Quay took you off the beach," he shouted.

  "He gave you food and clothes, and a bed to lie on. It's like you, tobite the hand that fed you. When have you ever stuck to any side oranybody if you could get a dollar more by selling him out?"

  The whole thing had become intolerable. It was abject and degrading,like a falling-out among thieves. They reminded me of a group of drunkenwomen I had once seen, shameless and foul-mouthed, fighting in thestreet, with grinning night-birds urging them on. I felt in some wayhorribly responsible, as though they had dragged me into it--as thoughthe flying handfuls of mud had splattered me. And yet the thing whichinflamed me the most against them was their unfairness to Aiken. Theywould not let him speak, and they would not see that they were so many,and that he was alone. I did not then know that he was telling thetruth. Indeed, I thought otherwise. I did not then know that on thoseoccasions when he appeared to the worst advantage, he generally wastrying to tell the truth.

  Captain Heinze pushed nearer, and shoved his fist close to Aiken's face.

  "We know what you are," he jeered. "We know you're no more on our sidethan you're the American Consul. You lied to us about that, and you'velied to us about everything else. And now we've caught you, and we'llmake you pay for it."

  One of the men in the rear of the crowd shouted, "Ah, shoot the beggar!"and others began to push forward and to jeer. Aiken heard them andturned quite white.

  "You've caught me?" Aiken stammered. "Why, I came here of my own will.Is it likely I'd have done that if I had sold you out?"

  "I tell you you did sell us out," Heinze roared. "And you're a cowardbesides, and I tell you so to your face!" He sprang at Aiken, and Aikenshrank back. It made me sick to see him do it. I had such a contempt forthe men against him that I hated his not standing up to them. It was tohide the fact that he had stepped back, that I jumped in front of himand pretended to restrain him. I tried to make it look as though had Inot interfered, he would have struck at Heinze.

  The German had swung around toward the men behind him, as though he weresubpoenaing them as witnesses.

  "I call him a coward to his face!" he shouted. But when he turned againI was standing in front of Aiken, and he halted in surprise, glaring atme. I don't know what made me do it, except that I had heard enough oftheir recriminations, and was sick with disappointment. I hated Heinzeand all of them, and myself for being there.

  "Yes, you can call him a coward," I said, as offensively as I could,"with fifty men behind you. How big a crowd do you want before youdare insult a man?" Then I turned on the other
s. "Aren't you ashamed ofyourselves," I cried, "to all of you set on one man in your own camp? Idon't know anything about this row and I don't want to know, but there'sfifty men here against one, and I'm on the side of that one. You'rea lot of cheap bullies," I cried, "and this German drill-sergeant,"I shouted, pointing at Heinze, "who calls himself an officer, is thecheapest bully of the lot." I jerked open the buckle which held my beltand revolver, and flung them on the ground. Then I slipped off my coat,and shoved it back of me to Aiken, for I wanted to keep him out of it.It was the luck of Royal Macklin himself that led me to take off my coatinstead of drawing my revolver. At the Point I had been accustomed tosettle things with my fists, and it had been only since I started fromthe coast that I had carried a gun. A year later, in the same situation,I would have reached for it. Had I done so that morning, as a dozen ofthem assured me later, they would have shot me before I could have gotmy hand on it. But, as it was, when I rolled up my sleeves the men beganto laugh, and some shouted: "Give him room," "Make a ring," "Fair play,now," "Make a ring." The semi-circle spread out and lengthened until itformed a ring, with Heinze and Reeder, and Aiken holding my coat, andmyself in the centre of it.

  I squared off in front of the German and tapped him lightly on the chestwith the back of my hand.

  "Now, then," I cried, taunting him, "I call _you_ a coward to _your_face. What are you going to do about it?"

  For an instant he seemed too enraged and astonished to move, and thenext he exploded with a wonderful German oath and rushed at me, tuggingat his sword. At the same moment the men gave a shout and the ringbroke. I thought they had cried out in protest when they saw Heinze puthis hand on his sword, but as they scattered and fell back I saw thatthey were looking neither at Heinze nor at me, but at someone behind me.Heinze, too, halted as suddenly as though he had been pulled back by acurbed bit, and, bringing his heels together, stood stiffly at salute.I turned and saw that everyone was falling out of the way of a tallman who came striding toward us, and I knew on the instant that hewas General Laguerre. At the first glance I disassociated him fromhis followers. He was entirely apart. In any surroundings I would havepicked him out as a leader of men. Even a civilian would have knownhe was a soldier, for the signs of his calling were stamped on himas plainly as the sterling mark on silver, and although he was not inuniform his carriage and countenance told you that he was a personage.

  He was very tall and gaunt, with broad shoulders and a waist as small asa girl's, and although he must then have been about fifty years of agehe stood as stiffly erect as though his spine had grown up into the backof his head.

  At the first glance he reminded me of Van Dyke's portrait of Charles I.He had the same high-bred features, the same wistful eyes, and heworehis beard and mustache in what was called the Van Dyke fashion, beforeLouis Napoleon gave it a new vogue as the "imperial."

  It must have been that I read the wistful look in his eyes later, forat the moment of our first meeting it was a very stern Charles I. whoconfronted us, with the delicate features stiffened in anger, and theeyes set and burning. Since then I have seen both the wistful look andthe angry look many times, and even now I would rather face the muzzleof a gun than the eyes of General Laguerre when you have offended him.

  His first words were addressed to Reeder.

  "What does this mean, sir?" he demanded. "If you cannot keep order inthis camp when my back is turned I shall find an officer who can. Who isthis?" he added, pointing at me. I became suddenly conscious of the factthat I was without my hat or coat, and that my sleeves were pulled up tothe shoulders. Aiken was just behind me, and as I turned to him for mycoat I disclosed his presence to the General. He gave an exclamation ofdelight.

  "Mr. Aiken!" he cried, "at last!" He lowered his voice to an eagerwhisper. "Where are the guns?" he asked.

  Apparently Aiken felt more confidence in General Laguerre than in hisofficers, for at this second questioning he answered promptly.

  "I regret to say, sir," he began, "that the guns were seized at NewOrleans. Someone informed the Honduranian Consul there, and he--"

  "Seized!" cried Laguerre. "By whom? Do you mean we have lost them?"

  Aiken lowered his eyes and nodded.

  "But how do you know?" Laguerre demanded, eagerly. "You are not sure?Who seized them?"

  "The Treasury officers," Aiken answered

  "The captain of the Panama told me he saw the guns taken on thecompany's wharf."

  For some moments Laguerre regarded him sternly, but I do not think hesaw him. He turned and walked a few steps from us and back again.Then he gave an upward toss of his head as though he had accepted hissentence. "The fortunes of war," he kept repeating to himself, "thefortunes of war." He looked up and saw us regarding him with expressionsof the deepest concern.

  "I thought I had had my share of them," he said, simply. He straightenedhis shoulders and frowned, and then looked at us and tried to smile. Butthe bad news had cut deeply. During the few minutes since he had comepushing his way through the crowd, he seemed to have grown ten yearsolder. He walked to the door of his tent and then halted and turnedtoward Reeder.

  "I think my fever is coming on again," he said. "I believe I had betterrest. Do not let them disturb me."

  "Yes, General," Reeder answered. Then he pointed at Aiken and myself."And what are we to do with these?" he asked.

  "Do with these?" Laguerre repeated. "Why, what did you mean to do withthem?"

  Reeder swelled out his chest importantly, "If you had not arrived whenyou did, General," he said, "I would have had them shot!"

  The General stopped at the entrance to the tent and leaned heavilyagainst the pole. He raised his eyes and looked at us wearily and withno show of interest.

  "Shoot them?" he asked. "Why were you going to shoot them?"

  "Because, General," Reeder declared, theatrically, pointing an accusingfinger at Aiken, "I believe this man sold our secret to the IsthmianLine. No one knew of the guns but our three selves and Quay. And Quayis not a man to betray his friends. I wish I could say as much for Mr.Aiken."

  At that moment Aiken, being quite innocent, said even less for himself,and because he was innocent looked the trapped and convicted criminal.

  Laguerre's eyes glowed like two branding-irons. As he fixed them onAiken's face one expected to see them leave a mark.

  "If the General will only listen," Aiken stammered. "If you will onlygive me a hearing, sir. Why should I come to your camp if I had sold youout? Why didn't I get away on the first steamer, and stay away--as Quaydid?"

  The General gave an exclamation of disgust, and shrugged his shoulders.He sank back slowly against one of the Gatling guns.

  "What does it matter?" he said, bitterly. "Why lock the stable door now?I will give you a hearing," he said, turning to Aiken, "but it wouldbe better for you if I listened to you later. Bring him to me to-morrowmorning after roll-call. And the other?" he asked. He pointed at me, buthis eyes, which were heavy with disappointment, were staring moodily atthe ground.

  Heinze interposed himself quickly.

  "Aiken brought him here!" he said. "I believe he's an agent of theIsthmian people, or," he urged, "why did he come here? He came to spyout your camp, General, and to report on our condition."

  "A spy!" said Laguerre, raising his head and regarding me sharply.

  "Yes," Heinze declared, with conviction. "A spy, General. A Governmentspy, and he has found out our hiding-place and counted our men."

  Aiken turned on him with a snarl.

  "Oh, you ass!" he cried. "He came as a volunteer. He wanted to fightwith you,--for the sacred cause of liberty!"

  "Yes, he wanted to fight with us," shouted Heinze, indignantly. "As soonas he got into the camp, he wanted to fight with us."

  Laguerre made an exclamation of impatience, and rose unsteadily from thegun-carriage.

  "Silence!" he commanded. "I tell you I cannot listen to you now. I willgive these men a hearing after roll-call. In the meantime if they arespies, they
have seen too much. Place them under guard; and if they tryto escape, shoot them."

  I gave a short laugh and turned to Aiken.

  "That's the first intelligent military order I've heard yet," I said.

  Aiken scowled at me fearfully, and Reeder and Heinze gasped. GeneralLaguerre had caught the words, and turned his eyes on me. Like the realprincess who could feel the crumpled rose-leaf under a dozen mattresses,I can feel it in my bones when I am in the presence of a real soldier.My spinal column stiffens, and my fingers twitch to be at my visor. Inspite of their borrowed titles, I had smelt out the civilian in Reederand had detected the non-commissioned man in Heinze, and just as surelyI recognized the general officer in Laguerre.

  So when he looked at me my heels clicked together, my arm bent to my hatand fell again to my trouser seam, and I stood at attention. It was asinstinctive as though I were back at the Academy, and he had confrontedme in the uniform and yellow sash of a major-general.

  "And what do you know of military orders, sir," he demanded, in a lowvoice, "that you feel competent to pass upon mine?"

  Still standing at attention, I said: "For the last three years I havebeen at West Point, sir, and have listened to nothing else."

  "You have been at West Point?" he said, slowly, looking at me insurprise and with evident doubt. "When did you leave the Academy?"

  "Two weeks ago," I answered. At this, he looked even more incredulous.

  "How does it happen," he asked, "if you are preparing for the army atWest Point, that you are now travelling in Honduras?"

  "I was dismissed from the Academy two weeks ago," I answered. "This wasthe only place where there was any fighting, so I came here. I read thatyou had formed a Foreign Legion, and thought that maybe you would let mejoin it."

  General Laguerre now stared at me in genuine amazement. In his interestin the supposed spy, he had forgotten the loss of his guns.

  "You came from West Point," he repeated, incredulously, "all the way toHonduras--to join me!" He turned to the two officers. "Did he tell youthis?" he demanded.

  They answered, "No," promptly, and truthfully as well, for they had notgiven me time to tell them anything.

  "Have you any credentials, passports, or papers?" he said.

  When he asked this I saw Reeder whisper eagerly to Heinze, and then walkaway. He had gone to search my trunk for evidence that I was a spy, andhad I suspected this I would have protested violently, but it did notoccur to me then that he would do such a thing.

  "I have only the passport I got from the commandante at Porto Cortez," Isaid.

  At the words Aiken gave a quick shake of the head, as a man does when hesees another move the wrong piece on the chess-board. But when Istared at him inquiringly his expression changed instantly to one ofinterrogation and complete unconcern.

  "Ah!" exclaimed Heinze, triumphantly, "he has a permit from theGovernment."

  "Let me see it," said the General.

  I handed it to him, and he drew a camp-chair from the tent, and, seatinghimself, began to compare me with the passport.

  "In this," he said at last, "you state that you are a commercialtraveller; that you are going to the capital on business, and that youare a friend of the Government."

  I was going to tell him that until it had been handed me by Aiken, I hadknown nothing of the passport, but I considered that in some way thismight involve Aiken, and so I answered:

  "It was necessary to tell them any story, sir, in order to get intothe interior. I could not tell them that I was _not_ a friend of theGovernment, nor that I was trying to join you."

  "Your stories are somewhat conflicting," said the General. "You are ledto our hiding-place by a man who is himself under suspicion, and theonly credentials you can show are from the enemy. Why should I believeyou are what you say you are? Why should I believe you are not a spy?"

  I could not submit to having my word doubted, so I bowed stiffly and didnot speak.

  "Answer me," the General commanded, "what proofs have I?"

  "You have nothing but my word for it," I said.

  General Laguerre seemed pleased with that, and I believe he was reallyinterested in helping me to clear myself. But he had raised my temper byquestioning my word.

  "Surely you must have something to identify you," he urged.

  "If I had I'd refuse to show it," I answered. "I told you why I camehere. If you think I am a spy, you can go ahead and shoot me as a spy,and find out whether I told you the truth afterward."

  The General smiled indulgently.

  "There would be very little satisfaction in that for me, or for you," hesaid.

  "I'm an officer and a gentleman," I protested, "and I have a right to betreated as one. If you serve every gentleman who volunteers to joinyou in the way I have been served, I'm not surprised that your force iscomposed of the sort you have around you."

  The General raised his head and looked at me with such a savageexpression that during the pause which ensued I was most uncomfortable.

  "If your proofs you are an officer are no stronger than those you offerthat you are a gentleman," he said, "perhaps you are wise not to showthem. What right have you to claim you are an officer?"

  His words cut and mortified me deeply, chiefly because I felt I deservedthem.

  "Every cadet ranks a non-commissioned man," I answered.

  "But you are no longer a cadet," he replied. "You have been dismissed.You told me so yourself. Were you dismissed honorably, or dishonorably?"

  "Dishonorably," I answered. I saw that this was not the answer he hadexpected. He looked both mortified and puzzled, and glanced at Heinzeand Aiken as though he wished that they were out of hearing.

  "What was it for--what was the cause of your dismissal?" he asked. Henow spoke in a much lower tone. "Of course, you need not tell me," headded.

  "I was dismissed for being outside the limits of the Academy without apermit," I answered. "I went to a dance at a hotel in uniform."

  "Was that all?" he demanded, smiling.

  "That was the crime for which I was dismissed," I said, sulkily. TheGeneral looked at me for some moments, evidently in much doubt. Ibelieve he suspected that I had led him on to asking me the reason formy dismissal, in order that I could make so satisfactory an answer. Ashe sat regarding me, Heinze bent over him and said something to him ina low tone, to which he replied: "But that would prove nothing. He mighthave a most accurate knowledge of military affairs, and still be anagent of the Government."

  "That is so, General," Heinze answered, aloud. "But it would provewhether he is telling the truth about his having been at West Point. Ifhis story is false in part, it is probably entirely false, as I believeit to be."

  "Captain Heinze suggests that I allow him to test you with somequestions," the General said, doubtfully; "questions on militarymatters. Would you answer them?"

  I did not want them to see how eager I was to be put to such a test, soI tried to look as though I were frightened, and said, cautiously,"I will try, sir." I saw that the proposition to put me through anexamination had filled Aiken with the greatest concern. To reassure him,I winked covertly.

  Captain Heinze glanced about him as though looking for a text.

  "Let us suppose," he said, importantly, "that you are aninspector-general come to inspect this camp. It is one that I myselfselected; as adjutant it is under my direction. What would you report asto its position, its advantages and disadvantages?"

  I did not have to look about me. Without moving from where I stood,I could see all that was necessary of that camp. But I first asked,timidly: "Is this camp a temporary one, made during a halt on the march,or has it been occupied for some days?"

  "We have been here for two weeks," said Heinze.

  "Is it supposed that a war is going on?" I asked, politely; "I mean, arewe in the presence of an enemy?"

  "Of course," answered Heinze. "Certainly we are at war."

  "Then," I said, triumphantly, "in my report I should recommend that theof
ficer who selected this camp should be court-martialled."

  Heinze gave a shout of indignant laughter, and Aiken glared at me asthough he thought I had flown suddenly mad, but Laguerre only frownedand waved his hand impatiently.

  "You are bold, sir," he said, grimly; "I trust you can explainyourself."

  I pointed from the basin in which we stood, to the thickly wooded hillsaround us.

  "This camp has the advantage of water and grass," I said. I spokeformally, as though I were really making a report. "Those are its onlyadvantages. Captain Heinze has pitched it in a hollow. In case of anattack, he has given the advantage of position to the enemy. Fiftymen could conceal themselves on those ridges and fire upon you aseffectively as though they had you at the bottom of a well. There are nopickets out, except along the trail, which is the one approach the enemywould not take. So far as this position counts, then," I summed up, "thecamp is an invitation to a massacre."

  I did not dare look at the General, but I pointed at the guns at hisside. "Your two field-pieces are in their covers, and the covers arestrapped on them. It would take three minutes to get them into action.Instead of being here in front of the tent, they should be up there onthose two highest points. There are no racks for the men's rifles orammunition belts. The rifles are lying on the ground and scatteredeverywhere--in case of an attack the men would not know where to laytheir hands on them. It takes only two forked sticks and a ridge-polewith nicks in it, to make an excellent gun-rack, but there is none ofany sort. As for the sanitary arrangements of the camp, they are _nil_.The refuse from the troop kitchen is scattered all over the place, andso are the branches on which the men have been lying. There is no wayfor them to cross that stream without their getting their feet wet; andevery officer knows that wet feet are worse than wet powder. The placedoes not look as though it had been policed since you came here. It's afever swamp. If you have been here two weeks, it's a wonder your wholeforce isn't as rotten as sheep. And there!" I cried, pointing at thestream which cut the camp in two--"there are men bathing and washingtheir clothes up-stream, and those men below them are filling bucketswith water for cooking and drinking. Why have you no water-guards?You ought to have a sentry there, and there. The water above the firstsentry should be reserved for drinking, below him should be the placefor watering your horses, and below the second sentry would be the waterfor washing clothes. Why, these things are the A, B, C, of camp life."For the first time since I had begun to speak, I turned on Heinze andgrinned at him.

  "How do you like my report on your camp?" I asked. "Now, don't you agreewith me that you should be court-martialled?" Heinze's anger explodedlike a shell.

  "You should be court-martialled yourself!" he shouted. "You areinsulting our good General. For me, I do not care. But you shall notreflect upon my commanding officer, for him I--"

  "That will do, Captain Heinze," Laguerre said, quietly. "That will do,thank you." He did not look up at either of us, but for some time satwith his elbow on his knee and with his chin resting in the palm of hishand, staring at the camp. There was a long, and, for me, an awkwardsilence. The General turned his head and stared at me. His expressionwas exceedingly grave, but without resentment.

  "You are quite right," he said, finally. Heinze and Aiken movedexpectantly forward, anxious to hear him pass sentence upon me. Seeingthis he raised his voice and repeated: "You are quite right in what yousay about the camp. All you say is quite true."

  He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and, as he continuedspeaking with his face averted, it was as though he were talking tohimself.

  "We grow careless as we grow older," he said, "One grows less difficultto please." His tone was that of a man excusing himself to himself. "Theold standards, the old models, pass away and--and failures, failurescome and dull the energy." His voice dropped into a monotone; he seemedto have forgotten us entirely.

  It must have been then that for the first time I saw the wistful lookcome into his eyes, and suddenly felt deeply sorry for him and wishedthat I might dare to tell him so. I was not sorry for any act or speechof mine. They had attacked me, and I had only defended myself. I was notrepentant for anything I had said; my sorrow was for what I read in theGeneral's eyes as he sat staring out into the valley. It was the saddestand loneliest look that I had ever seen. There was no bitterness init, but great sadness and weariness and disappointment, and above all,loneliness, utter and complete loneliness.

  He glanced up and saw me watching him, and for a moment regarded mecuriously, and then, as though I had tried to force my way into hissolitude, turned his eyes quickly away.

  I had forgotten that I was a suspected spy until the fact was recalledto me at that moment by the reappearance of Major Reeder. He camebustling past me, carrying as I saw, to my great indignation, the swordwhich had been presented to my grandfather, and which my grandfather hadgiven to me. I sprang after him and twisted it out of his hand.

  "How dare you!" I cried. "You have opened my trunk! How dare you pryinto my affairs? General Laguerre!" I protested. "I appeal to you, sir."

  "Major Reeder," the General demanded, sharply, "what does this mean?"

  "I was merely seeking evidence, General," said Reeder. "You asked forhis papers, and I went to look for them."

  "I gave you no orders to pry into this gentleman's trunk," said theGeneral. "You have exceeded your authority. You have done very ill, sir.You have done very ill."

  While the General was reproving Reeder, his eyes, instead of looking atthe officer, were fixed upon my sword. It was sufficiently magnificentto attract the attention of anyone, certainly of any soldier. Thescabbard was of steel, wonderfully engraved, the hilt was of ivory, andthe hilt-guard and belt fastenings were all of heavy gold. The General'sface was filled with appreciation.

  "You have a remarkably handsome sword there," he said, and hesitated,courteously, "--I beg your pardon, I have not heard your name?"

  I was advancing to show the sword to him, when my eye fell upon theplate my grandfather had placed upon it, and which bore the inscription:"To Royal Macklin, on his appointment to the United States MilitaryAcademy, from his Grandfather, John M. Hamilton, Maj. Gen. U.S.A."

  "My name is Macklin, sir," I said, "Royal Macklin." I laid the swordlengthwise in his hands, and then pointed at the inscription. "You willfind it there," I said. The General bowed and bent his head over theinscription and then read the one beside it. This stated that the swordhad been presented by the citizens of New York to Major-General JohnM. Hamilton in recognition of his distinguished services during the warwith Mexico. The General glanced up at me in astonishment.

  "General Hamilton!" he exclaimed. "General John Hamilton! Is that--washe your grandfather?"

  I bowed my head, and the General stared at me as though I hadcontradicted him.

  "But, let me tell you, sir," he protested, "that he was my friend.General Hamilton was my friend for many years. Let me tell you, sir,"he went on, excitedly, "that your grandfather was a brave and courteousgentleman, a true friend and--and a great soldier, sir, a great soldier.I knew your grandfather well. I knew him well." He rose suddenly, and,while still holding the sword close to him, shook my hand.

  "Captain Heinze," he said, "bring out a chair for Mr. Macklin." He didnot notice the look of injury with which Heinze obeyed this request.But I did, and I enjoyed the spectacle, and as Heinze handed me thecamp-chair I thanked him politely. I could afford to be generous.

  The General was drawing the sword a few inches from its scabbard andshoving it back, again, turning it over in his hands.

  "And to think that this is John Hamilton's sword," he said, "and thatyou are John Hamilton's grandson!" As the sword lay across his knees hekept stroking it and touching it as one might caress a child, glancingup at me from time to time with a smile. It seemed to have carried himback again into days and scenes to which we all were strangers, andwe watched him without speaking. He became suddenly conscious of oursilence, and, on looking up, seemed to become uncomfortab
ly aware of thepresence of Aiken and the two officers.

  "That will do, gentlemen," he said. "You will return with Mr. Aikenafter roll-call." The officers saluted as they moved away, with Aikenbetween them. He raised his eyebrows and tapped himself on the chest. Iunderstood that he meant by this that I was to say a good word forhim, and I nodded. When they had left us the General leaned forward andplaced his hand upon my shoulder.

  "Now tell me," he said. "Tell me everything. Tell me what you are doinghere, and why you ran away from home. Trust me entirely, and do not beafraid to speak the whole truth."

  I saw that he thought I had left home because I had been guilty of somewildness, if not of some crime, and I feared that my story would proveso inoffensive that he would think I was holding something back. But hismanner was so gentle and generous that I plunged in boldly. I toldhim everything; of my life with my grandfather, of my disgrace at theAcademy, of my desire, in spite of my first failure, to still makemyself a soldier. And then I told him of how I had been disappointed anddisillusioned, and how it had hurt me to find that this fight seemed sosordid and the motives of all engaged only mercenary and selfish. Butonce did he interrupt me, and then by an exclamation which I mistook foran exclamation of disbelief, and which I challenged quickly. "But itis true, sir," I said. "I joined the revolutionists for just thatreason--because they were fighting for their liberty and because theyhad been wronged and were the under-dogs in the fight, and becauseAlvarez is a tyrant. I had no other motive. Indeed, you must believe me,sir," I protested, "or I cannot talk to you. It is the truth."

  "The truth!" exclaimed Laguerre, fiercely; and as he raised his eyes Isaw that they had suddenly filled with tears. "It is the first time Ihave heard the truth in many years. It is what I have preached myselffor half a lifetime; what I have lived for and fought for. Why, here,now," he cried, "while I have been sitting listening to you, it was asthough the boy I used to be had come back to talk to me, bringing my oldideals, the old enthusiasm." His manner and his tone suddenly altered,and he shook his head and placed his hand almost tenderly upon my own."But I warn you," he said, "I warn you that you are wrong. You havebegun young, and there is yet time for you to turn back; but if you hopefor money, or place, or public favor, you have taken the wrong road. Youwill be a rolling-stone among milestones, and the way is all downhill. I began to fight when I was even younger than you. I fought forwhichever party seemed to me to have the right on its side. Sometimes Ihave fought for rebels and patriots, sometimes for kings, sometimes forpretenders. I was out with Garibaldi, because I believed he would give arepublic to Italy; but I fought against the republic of Mexico, becauseits people were rotten and corrupt, and I believed that the emperorwould rule them honestly and well. I have always chosen my own side,the one which seemed to me promised the most good; and yet, afterthirty years, I am where you see me to-night. I am an old man withouta country, I belong to no political party, I have no family, I have nohome. I have travelled over all the world looking for that country whichwas governed for the greater good of the greater number, and I havefought only for those men who promised to govern unselfishly and as theservants of the people. But when the fighting was over, and they weresafe in power, they had no use for me nor my advice. They laughed, andcalled me a visionary and a dreamer. 'You are no statesman, General,'they would say to me. 'Your line is the fighting-line. Go back to it.'And yet, when I think of how the others have used their power, I believethat I could have ruled the people as well, and yet given them morefreedom, and made more of them more happy."

  The moon rose over the camp, and the night grew chill; but still wesat, he talking and I listening as I had used to listen when I sat atmy grandfather's knee and he told me tales of war and warriors. Theybrought us coffee and food, and we ate with an ammunition-box for atable, he still talking and I eager to ask questions, and yet fearful ofinterrupting him. He told of great battles which had changed the historyof Europe, of secret expeditions which had never been recorded evenin his own diary, of revolutions which after months of preparationhad burst forth and had been crushed between sunset and sunrise; ofemperors, kings, patriots, and charlatans. There was nothing that Ihad wished to do, and that I had imagined myself doing, that he had notaccomplished in reality--the acquaintances he had made among the leadersof men, the adventures he had suffered, the honors he had won, werethose which to me were the most to be desired.

  {Illustration: The moon rose over the camp ... but still we sat.}

  The scene around us added color to his words. The moonlight fell onghostly groups of men seated before the camp-fires, their faces glowingin the red light of the ashes; on the irregular rows of thatchedshelters and on the shadowy figures of the ponies grazing at thepicket-line. All the odors of a camp, which to me are more grateful thanthose of a garden, were borne to us on the damp night-air; the cleanpungent smell of burning wood, the scent of running water, the smell ofmany horses crowded together and of wet saddles and accoutrements. Andabove the swift rush of the stream, we could hear the ceaseless poundingof the horses' hoofs on the turf, the murmurs of the men's voices, andthe lonely cry of the night-birds.

  It was past midnight when the General rose, and my brain rioted with thepictures he had drawn for me. Surely, if I had ever considered turningback, I now no longer tolerated the thought of it. If he had wished toconvince me that the life of a soldier of fortune was an ungrateful onehe had set about proving it in the worst possible way. At that moment Isaw no career so worthy to be imitated as his own, no success to be soenvied as his failures. And in the glow and inspiration of his talk, andwith the courage of a boy, I told him so. I think he was not ill pleasedat what I said, nor with me. He seemed to approve of what I had relatedof myself, and of the comments I had made upon his reminiscences. He hadsaid, again and again: "That is an intelligent question," "You have putyour finger on the real weakness of the attack," "That was exactly theerror in his strategy."

  When he turned to enter his tent he shook my hand. "I do not know when Ihave talked so much," he laughed, "nor," he added, with grave courtesy,"when I have had so intelligent a listener. Good-night."

  Throughout the evening he had been holding my sword, and as he enteredthe tent he handed it to me.

  "Oh, I forgot," he said. "Here is your sword, Captain."

  The flaps of the tent fell behind him, and I was left outside of them,incredulous and trembling.

  I could not restrain myself, and I pushed the flaps aside.

  "I beg your pardon, General," I stammered.

  He had already thrown himself upon his cot, but he rose on his elbow andstared at me.

  "What is it?" he demanded.

  "I beg your pardon, sir," I gasped, "but what did you call me then--justnow?"

  "Call you," he said. "Oh, I called you 'captain.' You are a captain. Iwill assign you your troop to-morrow."

  He turned and buried his face in his arm, and unable to thank him Istepped outside of the tent and stood looking up at the stars, with mygrandfather's sword clasped close in my hands. And I was so proud andhappy that I believe I almost prayed that he could look down and see me.

  That was how I received my first commission--in a swamp in Honduras,from General Laguerre, of the Foreign Legion, as he lay half-asleepupon his cot. It may be, if I continue as I have begun, I shall receivehigher titles, from ministers of war, from queens, presidents, andsultans. I shall have a trunk filled, like that of General Laguerre's,with commissions, brevets, and patents of nobility, picked up in manyqueer courts, in many queer corners of the globe. But to myself I shallalways be Captain Macklin, and no other rank nor title will ever countwith me as did that first one, which came without my earning it, whichfell from the lips of an old man without authority to give it, but whichseemed to touch me like a benediction.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  The officer from whom I took over my troop was a German, Baron Herbertvon Ritter. He had served as an aide-de-camp to the King of Bavaria,and his face was a patch
work of sword-cuts which he had received in thestudents' duels. No one knew why he had left the German army. He hadbeen in command of the troop with the rank of captain, but when the nextmorning Laguerre called him up and told him that I was now his captainhe seemed rather relieved than otherwise.

  "They're a hard lot," he said to me, as we left the General. "I'm gladto get rid of them."

  The Legion was divided into four troops of about fifty men each. Onlyhalf of the men were mounted, but the difficulties of the trail were sogreat that the men on foot were able to move quite as rapidly as thoseon mule-back. Under Laguerre there were Major Webster, an old man, whoas a boy had invaded Central America with William Walker's expedition,and who ever since had lived in Honduras; Major Reeder and fivecaptains, Miller, who was in charge of a dozen native Indians andwho acted as a scout; Captain Heinze, two Americans named Porter andRussell, and about a dozen lieutenants of every nationality. Heinze hadbeen adjutant of the force, but the morning after my arrival the Generalappointed me to that position, and at roll-call announced the change tothe battalion.

  "We have been waiting here for two weeks for a shipment of machineguns," he said to them. "They have not arrived and I cannot wait forthem any longer. The battalion will start at once for Santa Barbara,where I expect to get you by to-morrow night. There we will join GeneralGarcia, and continue with him until we enter the capital."

  The men, who were properly weary of lying idle in the swamp, interruptedhim with an enthusiastic cheer and continued shouting until he liftedhis hand.

  "Since we have been lying here," he said, "I have allowed you certainliberties, and discipline has relaxed. But now that we are on the marchagain you will conduct yourselves like soldiers, and discipline will beas strictly enforced as in any army in Europe. Since last night we havereceived an addition to our force in the person of Captain Macklin, whohas volunteered his services. Captain Macklin comes of a distinguishedfamily of soldiers, and he has himself been educated at West Point. Ihave appointed him Captain of D Troop and Adjutant of the Legion. Asadjutant you will recognize his authority as you would my own. You willnow break camp, and be prepared to march in half an hour."

  Soon after we had started we reached a clearing, and Laguerre haltedus and formed the column into marching order. Captain Miller, who wasthoroughly acquainted with the trail, and his natives, were sent on twohundred yards ahead of us as a point. They were followed by Heinze withhis Gatling guns. Then came Laguerre and another troop, then Reeder withthe two remaining troops and our "transport" between them. Our transportconsisted of a dozen mules carrying bags of coffee, beans, and flour,our reserve ammunition, the General's tent, and whatever few privateeffects the officers possessed over and above the clothes they stood in.I brought up the rear with D Troop. We moved at a walk in single fileand without flankers, as the jungle on either side of the trail wasimpenetrable. Our departure from camp had been so prompt that I hadbeen given no time to become acquainted with my men, but as we trampedforward I rode along with them or drew to one side to watch them passand took a good look at them. Carrying their rifles, and with theirblanket-rolls and cartridge-belts slung across their shoulders, theymade a better appearance than when they were sleeping around the camp.As the day grew on I became more and more proud of my command. The baronpointed out those of the men who could be relied upon, and I could pickout for myself those who had received some military training. When Iasked these where they had served before, they seemed pleased atmy having distinguished the difference between them and the othervolunteers, and saluted properly and answered briefly and respectfully.

  If I was proud of the men, I was just as pleased with myself, or, Ishould say, with my luck. Only two weeks before I had been read out tothe battalion at West Point, as one unfit to hold a commission, and hereI was riding at the head of my own troop. I was no second lieutenanteither, with a servitude of five years hanging over me before I couldreceive my first bar, but a full-fledged captain, with fifty men underhim to care for and discipline and lead into battle. There was not a manin my troop who was not at least a few years older than myself, and asI rode in advance of them and heard the creak of the saddles and thejingle of the picket-pins and water-bottles, or turned and saw the longline stretching out behind me, I was as proud as Napoleon returningin triumph to Paris. I had brought with me from the Academy my scarletsash, and wore it around my waist under my sword-belt. I also had myregulation gauntlets, and a campaign sombrero, and as I rode alongI remembered the line about General Stonewall Jackson, in "BarbaraFrietchie."

  "The leader glancing left and right."

  I repeated it to myself, and scowled up at the trees and into thejungle. It was a tremendous feeling to be a "leader."

  At noon the heat was very great, and Laguerre halted the column ata little village and ordered the men to eat their luncheon. I postedpickets, appointed a detail to water the mules, and asked two of theinhabitants for the use of their clay ovens. In the other troops eachman, or each group of men, were building separate fires and eating aloneor in messes of five or six but by detailing four of my men to actas cooks for the whole troop, and six others to tend the fires in theovens, and six more to carry water for the coffee, all of my men werecomfortably fed before those in the other troops had their fires going.

  Von Ritter had said to me that during the two weeks in camp the men hadused up all their tobacco, and that their nerves were on edge for lackof something to smoke. So I hunted up a native who owned a tobaccopatch, and from him, for three dollars in silver, I bought three hundredcigars. I told Von Ritter to serve out six of them to each of the men ofD Troop. It did me good to see how much they enjoyed them. For the nextfive minutes every man I met had a big cigar in his mouth, which hewould remove with a grin, and say, "Thank you, Captain." I did not givethem the tobacco to gain popularity, for in active service I considerthat tobacco is as necessary for the man as food, and I also believethat any officer who tries to buy the good-will of his men is taking thequickest way to gain their contempt.

  Soldiers know the difference between the officer who bribes and petsthem, and the one who, before his own tent is set up, looks to hismen and his horses, who distributes the unpleasant duties of the campevenly, and who knows what he wants done the first time he gives anorder, and does not make unnecessary work for others because he cannotmake up his mind.

  After I had seen the mules watered and picketed in the public corral,I went to look for the General, whom I found with the other officers atthe house of the Alcalde. They had learned news of the greatest moment.Two nights previous, General Garcia had been attacked in force at SantaBarbara, and had abandoned the town without a fight. Nothing more wasknown, except that he was either falling back along the trail to joinus, or was waiting outside the city for us to come up and join him.

  Laguerre at once ordered the bugles to sound "Boots and saddles," andwithin five minutes we were on the trail again with instructions topress the men forward as rapidly as possible. The loss of Santa Barbarawas a serious calamity. It was the town third in importance in Honduras,and it had been the stronghold of the revolutionists. The moral effectof the fact that Garcia held it, had been of the greatest possiblebenefit. As Garcia's force consisted of 2,000 men and six pieces ofartillery, it was inexplicable to Laguerre how without a fight he hadabandoned so valuable a position.

  The country through which we now passed was virtually uninhabited, andwild and rough, but grandly beautiful. At no time, except when we passedthrough one of the dusty little villages, of a dozen sun-baked huts setaround a sun-baked plaza, was the trail sufficiently wide to permitus to advance unless in single file. And yet this was the highway ofHonduras from the Caribbean Sea to the Pacific Ocean, and the only roadto Tegucigalpa, the objective point of our expedition. The capital layonly one hundred miles from Porto Cortez, but owing to the nature ofthis trail it could not be reached from the east coast, either on footor by mule, in less than from six to nine days. No wheeled vehicle couldhave possibly attempted the
trip without shaking to pieces, and it wasonly by dragging and lifting our Gatling guns by hand that we were ableto bring them with us.

  At sunset we halted at a little village, where, as usual, the peopleyelled "Vivas!" at us, and protested that they were good revolutionists.The moon had just risen, and, as the men rode forward, kicking up thewhite dust and with the Gatlings clanking and rumbling behind them,they gave a most war-like impression. Miller, who had reconnoitered thevillage before we entered it, stood watching us as we came in. He saidthat we reminded him of troops of United States cavalry as he had seenthem on the alkali plains of New Mexico and Arizona. It was again myduty to station our pickets and out-posts, and as I came back afterplacing the sentries, the fires were twinkling all over the plaza andthrowing grotesque shadows of the men and the mules against the whitewalls of the houses. It was a most weird and impressive picture.

  The troopers were exhausted with the forced march, and fell instantlyto sleep, but for a long time I sat outside the Town Hall talking withGeneral Laguerre and two of the Americans, Miller and old man Webster.Their talk was about Aiken, who so far had accompanied us as an untriedprisoner. From what he had said to me on the march, and from what Iremembered of his manner when Captain Leeds informed him of the loss ofthe guns, I was convinced that he was innocent of any treachery.

  I related to the others just what had occurred at the coast, and aftersome talk with Aiken himself, Laguerre finally agreed that he wasinnocent of any evil against him, and that Quay was the man who had soldthe secret. Laguerre then offered Aiken his choice of continuing on withus, or of returning to the coast, and Aiken said that he would prefer togo on with our column. Now that the Isthmian Line knew that he had triedto assist Laguerre, his usefulness at the coast was at an end. He addedfrankly that his only other reason for staying with us was because hethought we were going to win. General Laguerre gave him charge of ourtransport and commissary, that is of our twelve pack-mules and ofthe disposition of the coffee, flour, and beans. Aiken possessed realexecutive ability, and it is only fair to him to say that as commissarysergeant he served us well. By the time we had reached Tegucigalpa thetwelve mules had increased to twenty, and our stock of rations, insteadof diminishing as we consumed them, increased daily. We never asked howhe managed it. Possibly, knowing Aiken, it was wiser not to inquire.

  We broke camp at four in the morning, but in spite of our early startthe next day's advance was marked by the most cruel heat. We had leftthe shade of the high lands and now pushed on over a plain of dry,burning sand, where nothing grew but naked bushes bristling with thorns,and tall grayish-green cacti with disjointed branching arms. Theystretched out before us against the blazing sky, like a succession offantastic telegraph-poles. We were marching over what had once been thebed of a great lake. Layers of tiny round pebbles rolled under our feet,and the rocks which rose out of the sand had been worn and polished bythe water until they were as smooth as the steps of a cathedral. A mileaway on each flank were dark green ridges, but ahead of us there wasonly a great stretch of glaring white sand. No wind was stirring, andnot a drop of moisture. The air was like a breath from a brick oven,and the heat of the sun so fierce that if you touched your fingers to agun-barrel it burned the flesh.

  We did not escape out of this lime-kiln until three in the afternoon,when the trail again led us into the protecting shade of the jungle. Themen plunged into it as eagerly as though they were diving into water.

  About four o'clock we heard great cheering ahead of us, and word waspassed to the rear that Miller had come in touch with Garcia's scouts. Ahalf hour later, we marched into the camp of the revolutionists. It wassituated about three miles outside of Santa Barbara, on the banks of theriver where the trail crossed it at a ford. Our fellows made a ratherfine appearance as they rode out of the jungle among the revolutionists;and, considering the fact that we had come to fight for them, I thoughtthe little beggars might have given us a cheer, but they only staredat us, and nodded stupidly. They were a mixed assortment, all of themunder-size and either broad or swarthy, with the straight hair and widecheek-bones of the Carib Indian, or slight and nervous looking, with thesoft eyes and sharp profile of the Spaniard. The greater part ofthem had deserted in companies from the army, and they still worethe blue-jean uniform and carried the rifle and accoutrements of theGovernment. To distinguish themselves from those soldiers who hadremained with Alvarez, they had torn off the red braid with which theirtunics were embroidered.

  All the officers of the Foreign Legion rode up the stream with Laguerreto meet General Garcia, whom we found sitting in the shade of histent surrounded by his staff. He gave us a most enthusiastic greeting,embracing the General, and shaking hands with each of us in turn. Heseemed to be in the highest state of excitement, and bustled aboutordering us things to drink, and chattering, gesticulating, andlaughing. He reminded me of a little, fat French poodle trying toexpress his delight by bounds and barks. They brought us out a greatmany bottles of rum and limes, and we all had a long, deep drink. Afterthe fatigue and dust of the day, it was the best I ever tasted. Garcia'sofficers seemed just as much excited over nothing as he was, but wereexceedingly friendly, treating us with an exaggerated "comrades-in-arms"and "brother-officers" sort of manner. The young man who entertained mewas quite a swell, with a tortoise-shell visor to his cap and a Malaccasword-cane which swung from a gold cord. He was as much pleased over itas a boy with his first watch, and informed me that it had been used toassassinate his uncle, ex-President Rojas. As he seemed to consider it avery valuable heirloom, I moved my legs so that, as though by accident,my sword fell forward where he could see it. When he did he exclaimedupon its magnificence, and I showed him my name on the scabbard. Hethought it had been presented to me for bravery. He was very muchimpressed.

  Garcia and Laguerre talked together for a long time and then shook handswarmly, and we all saluted and returned to the ford.

  As soon as we had reached it Laguerre seated himself under a tree andsent for all of his officers.

  "We are to attack at daybreak to-morrow morning," he said. "Garcia isto return along the trail and make a demonstration on this side of thetown, while we are here to attack from the other. The plaza is aboutthree hundred yards from where we will enter. On the corner of the plazaand the main street there is a large warehouse. The warehouse looksacross the plaza to the barracks, which are on the other side of thesquare. General Garcia's plan is that our objective point shall be thiswarehouse. It has two stories, and men on its roof will have a greatadvantage over those in the barracks and in the streets. He believesthat when he begins his attack from this side, the Government troopswill rush from the barracks and hasten toward the sound of the firing.At the same signal we are to hurry in from the opposite side of thetown, seize the warehouse, and throw up barricades across the plaza.Should this plan succeed, the Government troops will find themselvesshut in between two fires. It seems to be a good plan, and I have agreedto it. The cattle-path to the town is much too rough for our guns, soCaptain Heinze and the gun detail will remain here and co-operate withGeneral Garcia. Let your men get all the sleep they can now. They mustmarch again at midnight. They will carry nothing but their guns andammunition and rations for one meal. If everything goes as we expect, wewill breakfast in Santa Barbara."

  I like to remember the happiness I got out of the excitement of thatmoment. I lived at the rate of an hour a minute, and I was as upset frompure delight as though I had been in a funk of abject terror. And I wasscared in a way, too, for whenever I remembered I knew nothing of actualfighting, and of what chances there were to make mistakes, I shivereddown to my heels. But I would not let myself think of the chances tomake a failure, but rather of the opportunities of doing somethingdistinguished and of making myself conspicuous. I laughed when I thoughtof my classmates at the Point with their eyes bent on a book of tactics,while here was I, within three hours of a real battle, of the mostexciting of all engagements, an attack upon a city. A full year, perhapsmany years, wou
ld pass before they would get the chance to hear ahostile shot, the shot fired in anger, which every soldier must firsthear before he can enter upon his inheritance, and hold his own in thetalk of the mess-table. I felt almost sorry for them when I thoughthow they would envy me when they read of the fight in the newspapers. Idecided it would be called the battle of Santa Barbara, and I imaginedhow it would look in the head-lines. I was even generous enough to wishthat three or four of the cadets were with me; that is, of course, underme, so that they could tell afterward how well I had led them.

  At midnight we filed silently out of camp, and felt our way in the darkthrough the worst stretch of country we had yet encountered. Theferns rose above our hips, and the rocks and fallen logs over which westumbled were slippery with moss. Every minute a man was thrown by atrailing vine or would plunge over a fallen tree-trunk, and there wouldbe a yell of disgust and an oath and a rattle of accoutrements. The menwould certainly have been lost if they had not kept in touch by callingto one another, and the noise we made hissing at them for silence onlyadded to the uproar.

  At the end of three hours our guides informed us that for the lasthalf-mile they had been guessing at the trail, and that they had nowcompletely lost themselves. So Laguerre sent out Miller and thenative scouts to buskey about and find out where we were, and almostimmediately we heard the welcome barking of a dog, and one of the menreturned to report that we had walked right into the town. We found thatthe first huts were not a hundred yards distant. Laguerre accordinglyordered the men to conceal themselves and sent Miller, one of Garcia'sofficers, and myself to reconnoitre.

  The moonlight had given way to the faint gray light which comes justbefore dawn, and by it we could distinguish lumps of blackness which aswe approached turned into the thatched huts of the villagers. Until wefound the main trail into the town we kept close to the bamboo fencesof these huts, and then, still keeping in the shadows, we followed thetrail until it turned into a broad and well-paved street.

  Except for many mongrel dogs that attacked us, and the roosters thatbegan to challenge us from every garden, we had not been observed, and,so far as we could distinguish, the approach to the town was totallyunprotected. By this time the light had increased sufficiently for usto see the white fronts of the houses, and the long empty street, whererows of oil-lamps were sputtering and flickering, and as they went out,filling the clean, morning air with the fumes of the dying wicks. Ithad been only two weeks since I had seen paved streets, and shops, andlamp-posts, but I had been sleeping long enough in the open to makethe little town of Santa Barbara appear to me like a modern andwell-appointed city. Viewed as I now saw it, our purpose to seizeit appeared credulous and grotesque. I could not believe that wecontemplated such a piece of folly. But the native officer pointed downthe street toward a square building with overhanging balconies. In themorning mist the warehouse loomed up above its fellows of one story likean impregnable fortress.

  Miller purred with satisfaction.

  "That's the place," he whispered; "I remember it now. If we can get intoit, they can never get us out." It seemed to me somewhat like burglary,but I nodded in assent, and we ran back through the outskirts towhere Laguerre was awaiting us. We reported that there were no picketsguarding our side of the town, and the building Garcia had designatedfor defence seemed to us most admirably selected.

  It was now near to the time set for the attack to begin, and Laguerrecalled the men together, and, as was his custom, explained to them whathe was going to do. He ordered that when we reached the warehouse I wasto spread out my men over the plaza and along the two streets on whichthe warehouse stood. Porter was to mount at once to the roof and openfire on the barracks, and the men of B and C Troops were to fortify thewarehouse and erect the barricades.

  It was still dark, but through the chinks of a few of the mud hutswe could see the red glow of a fire, and were warned by this to moveforward and take up our position at the head of the main street. Beforewe advanced, skirmishers were sent out to restrain any of the people inthe huts who might attempt to arouse the garrison. But we need not haveconcerned ourselves, for those of the natives who came to their doors,yawning and shivering in the cool morning air, shrank back at the sightof us, and held up their hands. I suppose, as we crept out of the mist,we were a somewhat terrifying spectacle, but I know that I personallyfelt none of the pride of a conquering hero. The glimpse I had caught ofthe sleeping town, peaceful and unconscious, and the stealth and silenceof our movements, depressed me greatly, and I was convinced that I hadeither perpetrated or was about to perpetrate some hideous crime. I hadanticipated excitement and the joy of danger, instead of which, as Itiptoed between the poor gardens, I suffered all the quaking terrors ofa chicken thief.

  We had halted behind a long adobe wall to the right of the main street,and as we crouched there the sun rose like a great searchlight andpointed us out, and exposed us, and seemed to hold up each one of us tothe derision of Santa Barbara. As the light flooded us we all ducked ourheads simultaneously, and looked wildly about us as though seekingfor some place to hide. I felt as though I had been caught in the openstreet in my night-gown. It was impossible to justify our presence. As Ilay, straining my ears for Garcia's signal, I wondered what we would doif the worthy citizen who owned the garden wall, against which we layhuddled, should open the gate and ask us what we wanted. Could we replythat we, a hundred and fifty men, proposed to seize and occupy his city?I felt sure he would tell us to go away at once or he would call thepolice. I looked at the men near me, and saw that each was as disturbedas myself. A full quarter of an hour had passed since the time set forthe attack, and still there was no signal from Garcia. The strain wasbecoming intolerable. At any moment some servant, rising earlier thanhis fellows, might stumble upon us, and in his surprise sound the alarm.Already in the trail behind us a number of natives, on their way tomarket, had been halted by our men, who were silently waving them backinto the forest. The town was beginning to stir, wooden shutters bangedagainst stone walls, and from but just around the corner of the mainstreet came the clatter of iron bars as they fell from the door of ashop. We could hear the man who was taking them down whistling cheerily.

  And then from the barracks came, sharply and clearly, the ringing notesof the reveille. I jumped to my feet and ran to where Laguerre wassitting with his back to the wall.

  "General, can't I begin now?" I begged. "You said D Troop was to go infirst."

  He shook his head impatiently. "Listen!" he commanded.

  We heard a single report, but so faintly and from such a distancethat had it not instantly been followed by two more we could not havedistinguished it. Even then we were not certain. Then as we crouchedlistening, each reading the face of the others and no one venturingto breathe, there came the sharp, broken roll of musketry. It wasunmistakable. The men gave a great gasp of relief, and without orderssprang to "attention." A ripple of rifle-fire, wild and scattered,answered the first volley.

  "They have engaged the pickets," said Laguerre.

  The volleys were followed by others, and volleys, more uneven, answeredthem still more wildly.

  "They are driving the pickets back," explained Laguerre. We all stoodlooking at him as though he were describing something which he actuallysaw. Suddenly from the barracks came the discordant calls of manybugles, warning, commanding, beseeching.

  Laguerre tossed back his head, like a horse that has been too tightlycurbed.

  "They are leaving the barracks," he said. He pulled out his watch andstood looking down at it in his hand.

  "I will give them three minutes to get under way," he said. "Then wewill start for the warehouse. When they come back again, they will findus waiting for them."

  It seemed an hour that we stood there, and during every second of thathour the rifle-fire increased in fierceness and came nearer, and seemedto make another instant of inaction a crime. The men were listening withtheir mouths wide apart, their heads cocked on one side, and their eyesstaring. They tigh
tened their cartridge-belts nervously, and opened andshot back the breech-bolts of their rifles. I took out my revolver, andspun the cylinder to reassure myself for the hundredth time that itwas ready. But Laguerre stood quite motionless, with his eyes fixedimpassively upon his watch as though he were a physician at a sick-bed.Only once did he raise his eyes. It was when the human savageness of therifle-fire was broken by a low mechanical rattle, like the whirr of amowing-machine as one hears it across the hay-fields. It spanked the airwith sharp hot reports.

  "Heinze has turned the Gatlings on them," he said. "They will be comingback soon." He closed the lid of his watch with a click and noddedgravely at me. "You can go ahead now, Captain," he said. His tone wasthe same as though he had asked me to announce dinner.