CHAPTER XVII
UNDER A SPANISH CLOAK
"What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?" --_Romeo and Juliet_.
Just within their own bivouac four Missourians waited with eight horses.Driscoll and Boone, and the small limping shadow of Murguia betweenthem, went on outside the sentry line toward the Alameda. When theyreturned, a stranger accompanied them, a little distance apart.
"It's true," Driscoll whispered to those who had staid. "The trenchesare filled with townsmen. _He_ took me."
The Americans glanced once the stranger's way, and grunted. He was alarge man, hidden to the eyes in a Spanish cloak. For all the charity ofdarkness, he seemed ill at ease, and held himself from them, a markedfigure, alone. A leprosy in himself tainted his every thought. He wouldnot willingly come near any man. He understood English, unhappily nowfor him, and Boone's warning as they mounted seared like vitriol. "Lookout, Harry, don't touch the filthy skut! It'll take the rotting of deathto clean your fingers." After that, even Murguia drew involuntarily awayfrom the stranger.
They circled the town widely, having only Republican challenges toquiet, and they dismounted under the trees which shade the valley to thenortheast, between the Sangremal, or mound of La Cruz, and thebesiegers' range of hills. Here, under La Cruz's steep bluff, theRepublican general-in-chief had his quarters, and here he kept a hawk'sjealous watch on the walls above, where slept his country's invader.
Open battle is clear honor, so reckoned; but it takes a brave man todive for a pearl in slime. Driscoll was the one to conduct Murguia andhis gloomy companion into the presence of General Escobedo. When herejoined the other five outside the tent, he was alone.
"Well, come on," he said as he mounted under the trees. "We needn't stayfor the rest of it, thank God."
For a while they rode in silence back toward their camp. They passedunder the aqueduct and entered the open plain. Then the parson stretchedout his hand to the pommel of Driscoll's saddle.
"Well?" he ventured softly.
"Well, Clem, it's done."
The others crowded their horses nearer.
"I want to tell you all," Driscoll abruptly began again. "I want to tellyou that I've just seen the strangest thing of my whole life, right backthere in that tent. I--well, it's simply flattened me out!"
"You mean Lopez, Din?" one asked tentatively.
"Lopez? No, no, there's nothing strange in him. Any low hound will sellout to save his hide. No, Dan, I mean the other. I mean the old man.He's the one who used to run the blockade off Mobile, and awhiter-livered, more contemptible old grandmother I never hope to seeanywhere, no, never! Yet not a month ago, the day of that Cimatarioscrimmage, I found him on the battlefield, and he had been wounded. Buthe didn't seem to know it. He didn't even seem to know that the shellswere still banging all around him."
"An _old_ coward, too!" someone muttered.
"But wait. He used to be one thing worse, one thing more, than a coward.He was a miser, and such a miser that he _made_ himself facedanger. You should have seen him running a blockade, with the Yankeeschasing behind. He trembled--I tell you, he trembled like a witheredcottonwood leaf on a broken stem. Yet he whined against stoking withturpentine, because it cost a little more. I'd 'a' thought, I did then,that the miser was in his bones until the last trumpet. But to-night,back in that tent just now----"
"Well?"
"Well, he _refused_ money! He refused _gold_! He didn't seemto know what it was, any more than he did bullets a month ago. Escobedoasked him his price, and shoved a glittering heap across the table athim. You saw how he acted when we offered him something to eat? Well, helooked the same way at the gold. He acted impatient. He didn't want tosee anything except Lopez. But you'd have called it a miser's eagerness,the way he watched that Lopez. Only a miser don't exult when it'ssomeone else who pockets the money."
"Maybe they'll divide?"
"Not much, because Murgie could have had his share over and above. No,it wasn't that. It wasn't the gold. He was greedy--for a soul! He wantedto see Lopez _bought_, and no hitch. And when it was done, he wetthose catfish lips of his with his tongue. I believe the devil in hellmust look just that way when he gets some poor sinner. But to think ofthat old skinflint, to think of that old feeble cowardly shark not_knowing_ danger, not _knowing_ money----"
"Come, Din," the parson's blessed, cheery voice interrupted, "let'shurry back and wash our hands. Then we'll _all_ feel better."
While the six Americans rode gloomily away from what they had done, andfrom their own thoughts as they best could, a stealthy company wasforming under the trees among the tents of the Republican general. Aftera time the seeming spectres began to move in unison, an undulating wavethat spread as the grayish shadow of a low hanging cloud. The dimfigures slowly swept the little space of valley, on toward the steepslope of La Cruz, and soon they were climbing, silently creeping, nearerand nearer the dark walls above.
Two seemed the leaders, and the third limped close behind. But one ofthe first two held a pistol ever near the heart of his companion, whowas wrapped to the eyes in a Spanish cloak.
"Who goes----" cried an Imperialist sentry.
"Your colonel, fool!" he of the cloak stopped him short. "I, MiguelLopez. I am changing the guard. Return now to your barracks and get whatsleep you can before morning. One of these men with me will take yourplace."
In like manner each later challenge was satisfied, and so on to acannon-battered crevice in the wall. The spectres passed through the gapthere into a field of graves on the mound's level summit. The earth hadan uncanny softness under their tread. The plots were mostly fresh, ofslain Imperialists still keeping their rank according to battalion. Butthe living, the Reserve Brigade, were here as well, sleeping over thedead. They stirred and grumbled at being disturbed, but thought then nomore of the intruders. The secret plans for the daybreak attackexplained everything. Their colonel, whose voice they knew, was shiftingforces in preparation. But when the dawn came, they awoke to find theirweapons gone, and themselves defenseless prisoners.
Many of the spectral troop fell away to hold the cemetery, but the restkept on, and entered the monastery garden. Here there was a battery ofone gun, whose muzzle pointed the way to the Republican camp. Without asound the Imperialist gunners were replaced by Republicans. The cannonwas one captured during the Cimatario fight. It was called "LaTempestad," and bore an inscription, "The Last Argument of Nations." Itsnew possessors turned the muzzle squarely on the monastery, not fiftyyards away, where Maximilian lay then asleep.
The shadowy host did not linger in the monastery itself. They sweptthrough hastily, in at the garden entrance, along the corridor, and outby the great portico door upon La Cruz Plaza. They had passed thecitadel. The town lay before them. But in the Plaza were more cannon,which had been taken from the trenches and massed for the supremeeffort. They lay silent, under the silent bells of the church. They layunder the giant Cross of the Apparition, which was adorned by theInditos with garlands in vague memory of pagan rites on that very spot.They lay under the splendid Arabian palms. They lay among defenders. Totake them was like prowling with a torch among broken casks ofgunpowder. Not a shot must be fired until the thing was done. Otherwise,a quick second shot was to find the heart of Lopez. So Lopez wasexceedingly cautious. However, he commanded here. He was the Emperor'sfavorite. Squad after squad, the drowsy Imperialists moved off, lettingthe strangers relieve them. So the critical work was achieved, even asday appeared over the eastern hills. Then he who had kept so close toLopez put his revolver away.
"Your bargain is fulfilled, senor," he said. "Accordingly, here's thepaper I was to give you. It is your safe conduct throughout theRepublic. You are free. Go!"
Lopez clutched the thing that meant his life, but as his fingerstightened over it, his first greed vanished. He stared about himuncertainly. The Plaza swarmed with men. They were the gray battalion hehad led there. In the dawning light
they were still gray. They were theSupremos Poderes de la Republica. De la Republica? Yes, of the enemy,and he had brought them. But it was as though he had just awakened, andfound them there. The enemy? The enemy was in La Cruz! With a sharp cry,he turned and ran back into the monastery. He brushed aside the hatefulgray uniforms. He ran panting up the stone steps. In the dark hall abovehe stopped at a cell door, and pounded, and tugged frantically at itslatch.
"Senor, awake! Hurry! We are betrayed! Hurry! Escape--escape----"
Within came a startled sleepy voice, "What, what's--" which changed atonce to reproving dignity. "Can it be?--Lopez!"
"But senor--sire--the Chinacos, the Republicans, they are here already!"
"Colonel Lopez!" In its shocked surprise the voice was edged withrebuke. "Man, man, where are your years of training near my person? Onewould think you some boorish night-watchman."
Lopez outside the door dropped his hands, and fell abjectedly silent, asservilely abashed in his lapse of etiquette as though he stood thetraitor unmasked.
"Now then, Miguel," spoke the Emperor more kindly, "go to General Mejiaand the others. Let them have the goodness to attend me here."
Lopez turned on down the corridor, stopped at the doors of GeneralsMejia and Castillo, and the Prince Salm-Salm. At each he tapped lightly,as one dazed, and announced that the enemy surrounded them. Then,remembering, he fled.
Within the thick walls that narrowed his state into a friar's cell,Maximilian rose from his iron couch. "So," he sighed, almost in relief,"Destiny means it to end in this way." He was calm, and he attiredhimself carefully. He chose his general's uniform, with its rich darkblue, and scarlet cordon. Nor did he forget the star of some royalorder, which to common men seemed a cotillion favor. When he should stepforth that morning, it was to play a world role. The prince must beserene in the moment of trial. The nations must know that Destiny hadhim in hand. And musing thus, he parted his golden beard with daintyprecision. Within a month Europe would acclaim him reverently. He notedthat his high boots glistened. Mejia and the other two, hurrying to him,fell back in admiration to behold how placid he was.
"Gentlemen," said he, "to leave here, or die! There's nothing else."
He noticed a soft heap at the door, and picked it up.
"Lopez's cloak, a disguise!" he exclaimed. "God bless the poor fellow,he left it for me."
He wrapped the garment about him, took his pistols, and led the way. Inthe dark corridor down stairs a Republican sentry mistook the cool,commanding figure for one of his own generals, and presented arms.Maximilian gravely saluted, and with his three companions passed out.
The Plaza was a blurred scene of confusion. Men were awakening to findtheir arms gone, and themselves covered by muskets. Shots had beenfired. Curses abounded. Entire companies were being marched away asprisoners. Republican officers either thought that Maximilian was Lopez,from his cloak and height, or were too distracted to notice. It ispossible, too, that the victors would have had him escape, that theymight not have the trouble of his disposal, and that they preferred thathe should not thrust it on them. At any rate, he and the three behindpushed their way undisturbed through cannon and brown stolid men ingray, and reached the spot where the Plaza narrows into a street thatgently slopes down into the town. But here a guard was posted.
"Pues, hombre, they're civilians, let them pass."
Maximilian turned on him who spoke, and beheld the blackmailer, scout,deserter, Don Tiburcio. He wore now the uniform of a Republicanexplorador. His crossed eye gleamed so humorously up at the Emperor, itmight have been insolence, but it was only the proffered sharing of ajest. His matter-of-fact tone prevailed, and the guard stood aside. Thefour passed on down the street. In comical melancholy Don Tiburciolooked after them, and then he perceived that a fifth had slipped by theguard and was following closely behind.
"The saints help us--help _him_, it's Murguia!" Tiburcio mutteredin horror. He recalled the night when Maria de la Luz was found dead.
The old man, coatless, barefoot, in his pantaloons of Imperial green,limped desperately to keep pace with the great strides of the fourahead. The broad crimson stripe down each pant leg would break,straighten, break again, in bizarre accord, with every painful step. Itwas a lope, and he more like a starved wolf, a lean, persistent shadow,ever ready for the chance to spring.
By hastening down into the town, Maximilian thought to rally what forceswere there for a last stand; or, to be more exact, for a last tableau.The end of his empire must have eclat. He found the town panic-stricken,since all could see the Republic's standard over the towers of La Cruz.Dumfounded officers had gotten to housetops, and were using theirglasses. They beheld the enemy as busy as scurrying ants on thesurrounding hills. Clouds of men from every point were sweeping acrossthe llano toward the town. The advance were already in the narrowstreets. Killing, looting, had begun. Clanging bells, hoof beats, yells,musketry, and in the distance deep-voiced cannon! The Emperor and histhree companions, with the malignant shadow hovering ever near,quickened their course through the town. They paused only to dispatchcouriers. Miramon, when found, was to come at all speed with everypossible man to the Cerro de las Campanas. They gained the adobe suburbson the western edge, leaving behind the fearsome rising tide of humansound. An officer forced the Emperor to mount his horse. Many joinedtheir flight. They crossed broken fields, and reached the summit of thewedge-shaped rock called las Campanas. Close behind, emerging from thetown, were the first pursuers, who quickly grew to a thick black fringearound the hill. Shells were falling. The heavens seemed to flowervengefully, with the Campanas knoll as the one focus. The adobe stockadecrowning the top was soon packed with fugitives, until those within,like shipwrecked creatures on a raft, barred out those still coming. Thewhisper spread that in the town Miramon had been taken shot through thecheek after shooting many others. The panic grew. Men knew themselves atbay. They recognized the deathtrap. On the outlying heights the cannonhad their range. Grenades, bombs, grape, and canister, fell as hail.
The Emperor turned to General Mejia.
"Could we cut our way out?" he asked.
Mejia put down his glasses. He paused, then shook his head.
Straightway an orderly with a white flag was sent down the hill. But thefiring did not cease for that. Maximilian, seeing that he could make noterms for those around him, seeing them fall by scores instead, himselffollowed the orderly; and following him, was the ever faithful shadow.
From out the dark fringe a man on a white horse, a black bearded manwith monstrous flapping ears, General Escobedo, rode forth to meet theHapsburg. Then Maximilian forgot the eyes of the world, and thought ofher who had suffered with him, who had suffered more than he, to hazardthis, their dream.
"It is our throne, Charlotte," he murmured, and gave up his sword.
The Missourian Page 53