The Dust of Conflict

by Harold Bindloss

  XXIII -- APPLEBY TAKES A RISK

  IT was early next morning when Appleby and Harper sat at breakfast onthe veranda. The white wall across the patio already shone dazzlinglyagainst a strip of intense blue, and a patch of brightness grew broaderacross the veranda, but it was pleasantly cool as yet. From beyond theflat roof there rose the rasping thud of machetes swinging amidst thecane and the musical clink of hoes, with the dull rumble of the crushingmachinery as an undertone.

  Appleby had apparently not slept very well, for there was weariness inhis face, and he lay a trifle more limply than usual in his chair, witha morsel of bread and a very little cup of bitter black coffee in frontof him, for in Spanish countries the regular breakfast is served laterin the morning. Harper seemed to notice the absence of the major-domo.

  "Bread and coffee! Well, when he can't get anything else one can live onthem, but if Pancho had been around he'd have found us something more,"he said. "Their two meals a day never quite suited me. We have steak andpotatoes three times in my country."

  "I have seen you comparatively thankful to get one," said Appleby. "I'mnot sure that we will even have bread and coffee to fall upon in anotherday or two."

  Harper glanced at him sharply. "Where's Pancho?"

  "I sent him away last night with a message for Maccario."

  "As the result of Morales coming round?"

  Appleby nodded. "Yes," he said. "He made a demand I could notentertain."

  "About me?"

  "Not exactly. I told him you felt sorry you had wounded thesusceptibilities of his officer."

  Harper laughed. "Well," he said, "there's only one thing I'm sorry for,and that is that I let up before I'd put the contract through. Still, Iguess there's more behind it."

  "There is," said Appleby gravely. "If you can keep quiet a minute or twoI'll tell you."

  He spoke rapidly and concisely, and Harper's face flushed as helistened. "You let him go!" he said. "Pancho and I were hanging round onthe stairway."

  Appleby smiled a trifle wearily. "I suspected it, but Morales is a gooddeal too cunning to take any unnecessary risks. If he had not come backwe should have had half a company of cazadores turning up to ask whathad become of him. Now I want you to understand the position. What areyour countrymen likely to do about the 'Maine'?"

  Harper's eyes gleamed, and his voice was hoarse. "Make the Spaniardslick our boots or wipe them off the earth!"

  "Well," said Appleby dryly, "you may do the last, but, if I know theSpaniards, you will never extort anything from them that would staintheir national dignity. Still, I think you are right about yourcountrymen's temper, and you see what it leads to. Every battalion ofSpanish infantry will be wanted on the coast, and that will give theinsurgents a free hand. It means they will once more be masters of thisdistrict, and that Santa Marta must fall. Believing that, I'm going totake a risk that almost frightens me."

  "I don't quite understand," said Harper.

  "Harding is on his way to Cuba, and he has large sums sunk in SanCristoval and other places up and down the island. Once he gets hereMorales will grind them out of him. Now, it is evident that Harding hasas much sympathy with the insurgents as he has with the loyalists, andperhaps rather more, while just now he must stand in with one of them.It seems to me that if your people can't be pacified the Spaniards willbe driven out of Cuba."

  "Still," said Harper reflectively, "I don't quite see why we shouldworry about that. Since you can't sell Harding--and that's quite plain--all we have to do is to light out quietly."

  Appleby smiled. "I scarcely think we could manage it; and while I takeHarding's money there's an obligation on me to do what I can for him.That is why I'm going to commit him definitely to standing in with theinsurgents."

  Harper stared at him in astonishment, and then brought his fist downwith a bang on the table. "You are going to bluff the Spaniards, andplay Sugar Harding's hand?" he said with wondering respect. "You have'most nerve enough to make a railroad king--but if it doesn't come off,and they patch up peace again?"

  "Then," said Appleby very quietly, "what I am going to do will costHarding every dollar he has in Cuba, though that doesn't count for somuch since Morales means to ruin him, anyway. I can only make a guess,and stake everything on it. Your countrymen will ask too much, theSpaniards will offer very little. Still, it's an almost overwhelmingdecision."

  Again Harper looked at him with a faint flush in his face, for theboldness of the venture stirred the blood in him. "It's the biggestthing I've ever had a hand in," he said. "Still, wherever it leads to,I'm going through with you!"

  "It is quite likely that it will lead us in front of a firing party,"said Appleby. "I have reasons for believing that Maccario is not faraway, and I have asked him to occupy the hacienda. It commands thecarretera to Santa Marta, and I fancy a handful of determined men couldhold it against a battalion, while with it in their possession the SinVerguenza would dominate this part of the country, in spite of Morales.He has, as you know, been sending troops away. The one thing thattroubles me is the uncertainty whether Maccario can get here to-night."

  "Well," said Harper, "it's quite an important question, and I don'tunderstand why we're staying here. I'd far sooner light out at once andmeet him. If Morales turns up in the meanwhile we're going to havetrouble."

  Appleby smiled dryly. "I'm afraid we would not get very far," he said."Still, if it's only to find out whether my notion is correct, we cantry it."

  Harper picked up what was left of the bread, and with characteristiccaution slipped it into his pocket. "It may come in handy. I've been outwith the Sin Verguenza before," he said.

  They went down the stairway, along the tram-line, and out upon the SantaMarta road, but they had scarcely made half a mile when they came upon asergeant and several files of cazadores sitting in the shadow by theroadside. Harper stopped abruptly and Appleby smiled.

  "The road is closed, then, Sergeant?" he said.

  "No, senor," said the man. "Still, it is not very safe."

  "Not even as far as Santa Marta?"

  The sergeant shook his head. "If you are going there I will send twofiles with you," he said.

  Appleby glanced at Harper, who clenched a big hand, and appeared to havesome difficulty in restraining himself. "I don't think we will troubleyou," he said. "You had instructions from the Colonel Morales?"

  "He seemed anxious about your safety, senores," said the man.

  Appleby turned upon his heel, and walked back the way he had come withHarper, murmuring anathemas upon Morales beside him, until the sergeantwas out of sight.

  "I expected it!" he said.

  "Well," said Harper dryly, "this is not the only way out of the place.We'll try another."

  They walked back to the hacienda, passed the sugar mill, and followedthe little tram-line that wound through the cane until once more Harpercame to a standstill, and his face grew a trifle grim. It was very hot,and the rails flung back the light dazzlingly between the tall greenblades, but there was another suggestive blink of brightness among thelong banana leaves in front of them.

  "More of them!" he said hoarsely.

  They walked on a few paces, and then a non-commissioned officer ofcazadores in dusty white uniform moved out on to the line.

  "Well," said Harper brusquely, "what are you wanting here?"

  The man made a little deprecatory gesture as he said, "We were sent."

  Appleby made as though he would brush past him, but the soldier, movinga trifle, stood in front of him.

  "With permission, senor, it is safer about the hacienda," he said."Still, if you wish to go out into the country I will send a man or twowith you."

  Appleby laughed. "Then you are not alone?"

  The soldier called softly, and three or four men in uniform appearedamidst the banana leaves. "It seems," he said, "the Colonel Morales isanxious about the hacienda."

  Harper glanced at his comrade ruefully, but an inspiration dawned onAppleby. "One appreciates his solicit
ude. It is conceivable that yourcomrades would know what to do with a bottle or two of cana. A little isbeneficial when one has passed the night in the open. There was, Ithink, a heavy dew."

  "With thanks, but it is not permitted," said the man. "We did not,however, leave Santa Marta until there was a little light in the sky."

  "Colonel Morales was good enough to send a strong detachment?"

  The soldier shook his head. "A section of the Barremeda company," hesaid. "The Sergeant Hernando was to follow with a few files when he camein from picket duty. One does not understand it, for the country isquiet now, but one asks no questions of an officer."

  "It is not usually advisable," said Appleby with a smile. "Still, if youchange your mind about the cana you can come up to the hacienda and askfor me."

  He swung round, and five minutes later sat down on a truck on the tram-line. Harper leaned against it, and looked at him.

  "I guess Morales means to make sure of us," he said. "Well, we can onlyhope for Maccario. You couldn't ask him if the men you sent gotthrough?"

  "I made the venture, and he told me. It was last night I sent the menout, and the cazadores only started this morning. Morales blunderedthen, but it is rather more than likely he couldn't help himself. Nobodywould call him timid, but just now it would have been a risky thing forhim to go back to Santa Marta alone."

  Harper nodded. "There's not much you don't think of," he said. "Still,it seems to me quite likely that Maccario can't get through."

  "Then so far as you and I are concerned I'm afraid the game is playedout," said Appleby.

  Harper pulled out his cigar case and wrenched it open. "Take a smoke,"he said. "I don't feel like talking just now."

  He sat down on a sleeper with his back to a wheel, while Appleby layupon the truck with a cigar, which went out in his hand, gazing acrossthe sunlit cane. It rose about him breast-high, a crude glaring green,luminous in its intensity of color, against the blueness above it, butAppleby scarcely saw it, or the gleaming lizard which lay close bysuspiciously regarding him. He had made a very bold venture, and thoughHarding might yet benefit by it, he could realize the risk that he andhis comrade ran.

  There was, however, consolation in the thought that Morales could nothave known he had sent for the Sin Verguenza, or he would have flung acompany of cazadores into the hacienda. A few resolute men could,Appleby fancied, hold it against a battalion, for there were no openingsbut narrow windows, and those high up, in the outer walls, while, if thedefenders tore the veranda stairway up, the patio would be apt to provea death-trap to the troops that entered it. It also seemed to him that,now the prospect of complications with the Americans would everywherestir the insurgents to activity, Morales would scarcely have men tospare for a determined assault upon the hacienda.

  The longer Appleby reflected the more sure he felt that he had made awise decision. It had, however, cost him an effort to face the risk, andnow he wondered a little at his own fearlessness. He who had hithertohaggled about trifles and pored over musty papers in a countrysolicitor's office had been driven into playing a bold man's part in thegreat game of life, and the reflection brought him a curious sense ofcontent. Even if he paid the forfeit of his daring, as it seemed hewould in all probability do, he had, at least, proved himself the equal,in boldness of conception and clearness of vision, of men trained topolitics and war, and he found the draught he had tasted almostintoxicating.

  The exhilaration of it had vanished now, but the vague content remainedand blunted the anxieties that commenced to creep upon him. Still, hefell to wondering where Maccario was, and how long it would take him toreach San Cristoval, for Morales would demand his answer soon afternightfall He lay very still while the shadow of the cane grew narrower,until the sun shone hot upon his set brown face, and then slowly stoodup.

  "I think we will go back and pay the men," he said. "The few pesetasmean a good deal to them, and I would sooner they got them thanMorales."

  They went back together silently, and the whistle shrieked out itssummons when the mill stopped for the men's ten o'clock breakfast.Appleby drew them up as they came flocking in and handed each the littlehandful of silver due to him.

  "You will go back to work until the usual hour," he said. "If all goeswell you will begin again to-morrow, but this is a country in which noone knows what may happen."

  The men took the money in grave wonder, and Appleby, who did not eatvery much, sat down to breakfast, but both he and Harper felt it arelief when the plates were taken away.

  "You will keep them busy, if it is only to stop them talking," he said."I have wasted too much time already, and if I am to straighten upeverything by this evening there is a good deal to do."

  Harper went out, and Appleby, sitting down in his office, wrote upaccounts until the afternoon. He dare leave no word for Harding, butthat appeared unnecessary, for if Harding found San Cristoval in thepossession of the Sin Verguenza he would, Appleby felt certain,understand and profit by the position. The room resembled an oven, andno more light than served to make writing possible entered the closedlattices; but with the perspiration dripping from him Appleby toiled on,and the last Spanish dollar had been accounted for when Harper and theman who carried the comida came up the stairway. Then it was with alittle sigh he laid down his pen and tied the neatly engrossed documentstogether. The life he led at San Cristoval suited him, and now he was toturn his back on it and go back once more, a homeless and pennilessadventurer, to the Sin Verguenza. Glancing up he saw Harper leaning on abureau and looking at him.

  "That's another leaf turned down," he said. "A good deal may happen toboth of us before to-morrow."

  Harper nodded gravely. "Oh yes," he said. "That's why I'm going to makea kind of special dinner. I don't think I had much breakfast, and Idon't quite know when we may get another."

  The dinner he had given the cook instructions concerning was rather moreelaborate than usual, and flasks of red and amber wine stood among thedishes and the piled-up fruit. Neither of them had much to say, but theyate, and when very little remained on the table Harper leaned back inhis chair with a smile of content.

  "That's one thing Morales can't take away from me, and I guess it shouldcarry me on quite a while," he said.

  They lay still, cigar in hand, for the most part of an hour and then asthe sunlight faded from the patio Harper appeared to grow restless.Appleby watched him with a little smile.

  "You don't seem quite easy," he said.

  Harper stared at him, and then broke into a somewhat hollow laugh. "It'sa fact," he said. "I was kind of wondering if it wasn't time Pancho orone of the other men came back. I guess one could see them on the tram-line from the roof. Morales will be here in an hour or two."

  He went out, and Appleby sat still, not because that was pleasant, butbecause he felt the necessity of holding himself in hand. He desired toretain a becoming tranquillity, and now he could only wait found thatthe tension was growing unendurable. There was no sound in the patio,where the light was failing, but he could hear Harper's footsteps on theflat roof above, and found himself listening eagerly as his comradepaced up and down. He stopped once, and Appleby felt his heart beating,for it seemed that something had seized Harper's attention. Thefootsteps, however, commenced again, and then Harper, who appeared tostop once more for a second, came hastily down the outside stairway.Appleby felt his fingers trembling, and it was only by effort he satstill instead of moving to the door to question him. If Harper had seenanything it was evident his comrade would hear of it in a moment or two.

  He came on down the stairway, and when he reached the veranda Applebyclosed one hand as he moved in his chair, but Harper passed on down thelower stairway, and Appleby sat still again, while a curious littleshiver ran through him. Half an hour had elapsed before his comrade camein again and flung himself down in the nearest chair. He shook his headdisgustedly, and his face was very grim.

  "No sign of Pancho, and I'm not going back," he said. "I guess watchingfor folks who
don't come gets kind of worrying. There's another thing. Iwent prospecting down the tram-line, and found that sergeant had broughthis men closer in."

  "I could have told you that," said Appleby. "If I had thought we couldhave got away I would scarcely have been quietly sitting here."

  Harper's face flushed. "Well," he said, "it's Maccario or Morales now."

  He lighted a cigar and sat still, though his big hands quivered now andthen, and the veins showed swollen on his forehead. The light grewrapidly dim, and at last Appleby moved sharply when a man came up thestairway with a lamp. Harper laughed unpleasantly.

  "It can't last very long now," he said. "We'll know what's going tohappen in the next half-hour."

  Appleby glanced at him languidly. "There is," he said, "one thing thatwould induce Morales to let us slip through his fingers."

  Harper stood up and straightened himself, clenching his hands on thechair back as he stared at Appleby.

  "If I thought you meant it I'd stop your talking for ever now," he said."Oh, I've now and then done a smart thing, and nobody expects too muchfrom me, but I haven't sold a countryman to the Spaniards yet--the devilswho sunk the 'Maine'!"

  Appleby laughed. "I think," he said quietly, "you had better sit down."

  Harper said nothing, but when he turned and flung himself into the chairhis eyes were eloquent, and there was for almost an hour a tense silencein the room. It seemed interminable to Appleby, but at last there was atramp of feet outside, and they rose simultaneously, Harper flushed andAppleby a trifle gray in face. Then there were footsteps on thestairway, and Morales came in with two or three files of cazadoresbehind him. He glanced at the two men, and his face grew a trifleharder, while a little vindictive sparkle crept into his eyes. Still,his voice was coldly even.

  "I had the honor of making you a proposal last night, Senor Appleby," hesaid.

  Appleby nodded. "I am sorry that I found I could not entertain it," hesaid.

  Morales let his hand fall on the hilt of his sword. "Then there is onlyone course open to me. I place these men in your custody, sergeant, anduntil you hand them over in the guardroom at Santa Marta you will beanswerable for them."

  The sergeant made a little sign, two men moved forward, and in anotherminute Appleby and Harper went down the stairway and saw a section ofcazadores waiting in the patio.

  XXIV -- RESPITED

  A FAINT light was creeping in through the narrow window when Applebyawoke in a little upper room in the cuartel at Santa Marta. Worn out bythe tense anxiety he had undergone he had at last slept restlessly, andfor a moment or two he was only sensible that his surroundings wereunfamiliar. Simply as he had lived at San Cristoval the room seemedunusually bare, while his limbs ached a little, and he wondered why hewas lying on a thin strip of matting, and what Harper, who lay closebeside him, apparently asleep, was doing there.

  Then he shook himself into wakefulness as memory came back, and theevents of the preceding night arranged themselves before him. Heremembered his brief trial by Morales and a handful of officers, whodeferred to him--for Santa Marta was under martial law--the writtenprocess declaring his offences, and the smile in Morales' dark eyes whenhe admitted that he had nothing to urge in extenuation. One point alonehe contested, and that was that he and Harper had supplied theinsurgents with arms from San Cristoval, but the process proved thatrifles had been carried into the factory, and his assertion that it wasdone without his knowledge only called forth a smile of incredulity.Then came the sentence, which Appleby listened to with the unconcern ofdesperation, and Harper, standing with great hands clenched and facedark with passion, answered with a torrent of furious invective inluminous American and Castilian, until two cazadores dragged him away.

  Appleby shivered, and rising softly walked to the window as heremembered that the day that was breaking was the last he would eversee. He flung the lattice open, and his face grew grim as he looked outupon the town. It was as yet, for the most part, dim and shadowy, andtwo square church towers rose blackly against a sky of paling indigo,but here and there a white wall glimmered faintly, and a pearly lustresuffused the east. While he watched it became streaked with crimson, forin the tropics dawn comes suddenly, and by and by a long shaft ofbrightness streamed up into the sky. Then the city emerged from theshadow, and once more shone dazzlingly white in the morning sun.

  It awoke as suddenly, for men rise early in that country to work whileit is cool, and a ringing of bugles rose from beyond the flat roofsclear and musical, while the white walls flung back the patter of feet,and the hum of voices became audible. Appleby listened with a dullhopelessness that was too intense for bitterness to the stir ofreawakening life, though the contrast between his lot and that of themen whose voices he heard had its effect on him. They were going out totheir toil, and would in due time sleep again, but before that day wasover he would be at rest forever. Then as somebody went by below singinga little light-hearted song he turned away with a groan, and saw thatHarper was watching him.

  "You haven't much use for singing," he said.

  Appleby sat down with his back against the wall, and laughed somewhathollowly. "No," he said. "The only appropriate music would be arequiem."

  "Well," said Harper reflectively, "I don't quite know, though I'm freeto admit that I'm feeling a good deal more anxious than I care about. Iwas thinking, and didn't sleep much last night, and it kind of seems tome the Spaniards have about enough on their backs just now."

  Appleby shook his head. "The trouble is that Morales will take care thatall anybody of consequence knows is that two of the Sin Verguenza wereextinguished in Santa Marta," he said.

  "Still, there's another point. Morales doesn't let up too easily onanything he means to put through, and he wouldn't get very much out ofeither of us when we're dead."

  Appleby turned upon him almost savagely. "Stop," he said. "You know thething is decided as well as I do. Yesterday took a good deal of thestiffening out of me--and in another hour or two we shall have atolerably difficult part to play."

  Harper's face grew suddenly grim. "Well," he said a trifle hoarsely, "Iguess we can face what is coming as well as a Spaniard can, and--I've gotto admit it--nobody could expect any more from any man."

  Appleby made no answer, but it was by an effort that, feeling hiscomrade's eyes upon him, he sat still, when the door opened and acazadore came in. He laid down a piece of bread and a bottle of thin redwine, and then glanced at them compassionately.

  "When will it be?" asked Appleby very quietly.

  The man made a little gesture. "Soon, I think. There is a parade fixedin an hour from now."

  He went out, and Harper's hands quivered a little as he held up the wineand glanced at Appleby.

  "It's not often I don't feel inclined to eat, but I don't seem to havemuch use for breakfast now," he said. "Here's to the folks who'll wonderwhat has happened to us back there in the country we came from!"

  He drank, and handed the wine to Appleby, who stood up as he put thebottle to his lips. It was, however, not Tony Palliser or NettieHarding, but a woman with grave gray eyes, that now when the shadowswere closing round him he drank to as it were reverently. She would, asHarper had suggested, never even know what had befallen him, but sheseemed very near him then, and he felt the influence of her serenityupon him.

  He laid down the bottle, and Harper took out two cigars. "Now," he said,"I guess when they come for me I'll be ready."

  The hour that followed seemed interminable, but at last there was atramp of feet on the stairway, and a sergeant of cazadores who came inmade a sign to them. They rose in silence, and were thrust amidst acluster of other prisoners in the patio, while an officer reading from apaper called their names aloud. Then a guard with bayonets fixed closedin about them, and they passed out through an archway into the street.Appleby blinked about him with half-closed eyes, for he had come out ofthe shadow, and the white walls were dazzlingly bright, while from outof the press of close-packed humanity beneath them came the f
lash ofsteel.

  Then the crowd opened up, and a company of cazadores, that filed out ofanother opening halted a moment to wait for the prisoners' guard.Appleby was driven forward and took his place among the rest, there wasa ringing of bugles that drowned the hum of voices from the crowd, andthey had started on their last journey to the doleful tapping of thedrums. Morales, it seemed, understood his countrymen, and meant togratify the Iberian lust of sensation which finds vent in the bull-ring,and is akin to that which packed the amphitheatres in the days ofancient Rome. Still, Appleby noticed vacantly that the loyalist cityseemed curiously unresponsive for the shout that went up when the troopsmoved forward died away, and the tapping of the drums broke sharplythrough a brief silence that was almost portentous.

  It was followed by a low murmuring that suggested the sound of the sea,and gazing at the rows of intent faces Appleby noticed that hats wereswept off as the prisoners passed, and that here and there a man crossedhimself. Once a burst of Vivas went up, but the murmurs that answeredthem were hoarse and angry, and for a space of minutes there was oncemore a heavy silence that seemed intensified by the beat of marchingfeet and the tapping of the drums.

  Appleby saw the faces at the windows and upon the roofs, swept a glancealong the crowd that lined the pavement, and with a little tingling ofhis nerves turned his eyes away. He felt a horror of these men who hadcome to watch him die, and set his lips and struggled with an almostoverwhelming impulse to fling bitter jibes or anathemas at them as hestared straight before him. Harper was walking quietly at his side, anda pace or two in front were four of their companions in misfortune--a ladwho limped, an old man, and two peons who laughed now and then. Beyondthem he could see a forest of wavering rifles crested with flashingsteel, and the figure of a mounted officer silhouetted sharply against astrip of sky.

  Way was made for them, and the march went on. The trampling feet clashedrhythmically upon the stones, the rows of crowded windows and long whitewalls slid behind, and then while a blast of the bugles rang across thetown Appleby found himself plodding into the smaller plaza. There was along flash of sunlight on steel, the leading company split up andwheeled, and while the files tramped past he and the guard were leftstanding with a double rank of cazadores behind them at one end of theplaza. In another two or three moments it was lined two deep by men withbayonets holding back the crowd; but the church with the two towersclosed the opposite end, and Appleby noticed vacantly how dazzlinglywhite the empty space shone in the sun, save where the long black shadowof the cross above fell athwart it. The church door was, as usual, open,and the sound of an organ came out from it dolefully. Except for that,there was for almost a minute a silence that grew horribly oppressive.

  Then a voice was raised, and read what appeared to be a list of theprisoners' offences, but Appleby could attach no meaning to it, and sethis lips when the man with the paper called three names aloud. It waswith a revulsion of feeling that left him very cold he realized thatnone of them was his or Harper's, but next moment he almost wished thatthey had been included in the summons. He had no hope now, and found thetask of standing there unmoved before those swarming faces becominginsuperably difficult.

  The lad who limped shuffled forward across the plaza, with the two peonsand a guard behind, until they stopped and turned again a foot or twofrom the church wall. The peons were men with patient brown facesdressed simply in white cotton and unstarched linen, and Appleby fanciedthat their offence was in all probability the smuggling of arms orcommunications for the insurgents. Then he became aware by a sudden humof voices that something unexpected was going on, and turning his eyessaw two priests appear in the porch of the church, and a sergeantstanding somewhat sheepishly before them. One was little and portly, inshabby cassock, but he spoke in a shrill vehement voice, and his facewas flushed; the other stood on the step above him, a tall man in ornatevestments that made a blaze of color in the porch, and he held one armup commandingly.

  Appleby could not hear what they said, for only his visual senses seemedto have retained their efficiency, but he fancied they were protestingwhen the sergeant moved slowly back across the plaza. Appleby turned andwatched him stop with lifted hand before the colonel, but Morales didwhat few other men in that country would have ventured on when, making acontemptuous gesture, he sent the sergeant back with his answer, and satstill in his saddle with one hand his hip.

  Still, the priests persisted, and would apparently have moved forwardfrom the church, when there was a flash of steel and tramp of feet, andfour or five files of infantry who had evidently little liking for theirtask halted in front of the porch. This time there was a hoarseportentous note in the murmurs of the crowd, and Appleby had anothertoken of Morales' courage when he saw him glance at the hemmed inpriests with a little sardonic smile.

  He made a sign with his gloved hand, somebody called out sharply, a lineof men moved forward a pace or two, and there was a jingle and clatteras the rifles went up to the hip. Appleby saw the lame lad shrink backtowards the wall, and one of the peons with bound hands awkwardly pullforward his hat over his eyes, but the other stood bolt upright with hisat his side.

  Once more a voice rang sharply through the stillness, the rifles went upto the shoulder, and Appleby, who set his lips and clenched his hands,turned his eyes aside. For a second or two it was horribly and intenselystill, and then a hoarse, strained voice, one of the peons' Applebyfancied, cried, "Viva la libertad!"

  It was followed by a crash, a whisp of smoke drifted past him, there wasan inarticulate cry from the crowd, and he dimly saw the firing partymoving through the smoke. Beyond them he had a blurred glimpse of afigure that swayed upon its knees, and another lying full length clawingat the stones. Then he shivered and gazed up at the crowded housetopsand dazzling sky, and by a grim effort held himself stiffly erect.Harper's voice reached him through the murmur of horror from the crowd.

  "Lord!" he said hoarsely. "They've bungled it!"

  Again the rifles crashed, and the men came back, two of them, Applebynoticed, walking a trifle unsteadily. The faces of the rest were set andgrim, and he braced himself for an effort as the man with the papermoved forward again. His turn and Harper's was coming now, but what hehad seen had stirred him to a fierce anger that drove out physical fear,and it was impotent fury he strove to hold in check. Then he saw Moralesapparently conferring with one or two of his officers who seemed to beglancing towards him and Harper, while the latter gripped his shoulderuntil he winced.

  "Why can't they be quick?" he said. "I'll take one of those soldiers'rifles and empty the magazine into them in another minute."

  Then there was a louder hum of voices and a surging of the crowd, forthe men of the firing party, waiting no order, brought their rifles downwith a crash. They were young men of the Barremeda company, which, asAppleby had heard, was not above suspicion, though that was, perhaps,why Morales had appointed them the task. A lieutenant appeared to begesticulating in front of them, but the men stood immovable, withordered rifles and set brown faces, and there was now a murmur from theranks behind them, while a great cry went up from the crowd.

  Santa Marta was a loyalist town, that is, the men who had anything tolose supported the rule of Spain, but they were for that reason mostlymen of position and refinement, and what they had seen had proved almosttoo much for them. The rest who had nothing were, for the most part,insurgents at heart, even if they refrained from actively expressingtheir sympathies, which was not certain, and the last cry of thebutchered peon coupled with the affront put upon the priests had stirredthem to fury. When the hot Iberian blood takes fire events are apt tohappen somewhat rapidly, and Morales, it seemed, had gone a trifle toofar.

  He flung himself from the saddle, and moved forward with gleaming sword,which he brandished in front of the flank man of the firing party, butthe set faces were resolutely turned upon him, and now the brown fingerswere convulsively tightening on the rifles. The tumult was growinglouder, and shouts of "Libertad!" and "Viva la revolutio
n!" came out ofthe clamor. In one place the double line of men with bayonets bent in,and a section of the Barremeda company broke their ranks.

  "Lord!" said Harper hoarsely. "With ten of the Sin Verguenza I'd takeSanta Marta now."

  It was not altogether an empty boast. The Iberian is impulsive andunstable, and a word spoken in season will stir to any rashness a Latincrowd. The troops were disaffected, part of them, at least, openlymutinous, but Morales the Sword could grapple with a crisis. He was inthe saddle in a moment, his voice rang clear and commanding above thetumult, and the men who wavered, uncertain what course to take, obeyed.The ranks wheeled, broke up, and grouped again in fours, the bugles rangshrilly, there was a roll of drums, and almost before Appleby quiterealized what was happening the head of the leading company was filingout of the plaza, and Morales' swift decision had saved the situation.Then a man touched Appleby's shoulder, and he and Harper and another manstepped into an opening between the files.

  "You are to be felicitated. There are few who offend Morales he does notcrush," said the sergeant of the guard.

  Appleby made no answer. He was a trifle dazed, and his thoughts were ina whirl, but he noticed vacantly that there was a curious portentoussilence as the troops marched back to the cuartel, and was glad whenthey reached it and he and Harper were thrust into the same room again.He sat down, somewhat limply, on the floor.

  "It was a trifle horrible--and I'm sorry we drank all the wine. Still, ofcourse, no one could have guessed," he said.

  He felt that his face was a little colorless, for his forehead wasclammy and his lips were cold, but Harper's was flushed, and he paced upand down the room until he stopped in front of Appleby.

  Then he said hoarsely, "I had a notion. That man never meant to wipe usout to-day. We were to taste death, and live with the grit crushed outof us, because he figured we would be of some use to him. If I could getmy hands on him I'd kill him."

  Appleby had felt much the same anger, but he was calmer now. What he hadwitnessed had filled him with horror, and while he could have blamedMorales little for his sentence, since his life was a risk of the game,the attempt to crush his manhood by making him taste the anguish ofdeath was unforgivable and an abomination.

  "Well," he said very quietly, "our turn may come."

  Harper once more strode up and down the room, and then stopped abruptlywith a little laugh. "It's kind of senseless talking just now," he said."We're not going to worry Morales much while he has got us here. Iwonder if anybody will remember to bring us our dinner."

  Appleby smiled, and the tension relaxed, but his hands were trembling,and it cost him two or three matches to light the cigar Harper threwhim.