Soldiers of Fortune

by Richard Harding Davis

  XII

  The day of the review rose clear and warm, tempered by a light breezefrom the sea. As it was a fete day, the harbor wore an air of unwontedinactivity; no lighters passed heavily from the levees to themerchantmen at anchor, and the warehouses along the wharves were closedand deserted. A thin line of smoke from the funnels of the 'Vesta'showed that her fires were burning, and the fact that she rode on asingle anchor chain seemed to promise that at any moment she might slipaway to sea.

  As Clay was finishing his coffee two notes were brought to him frommessengers who had ridden out that morning, and who sat in theirsaddles looking at the armed force around the office with amusedintelligence.

  One note was from Mendoza, and said he had decided not to call out theregiment at the mines, as he feared their long absence from drill wouldmake them compare unfavorably with their comrades, and do him more harmthan credit. "He is afraid of them since last night," was Clay'scomment, as he passed the note on to MacWilliams. "He's quite right,they might do him harm."

  The second note was from Stuart. He said the city was already wideawake and restless, but whether this was due to the fact that it was afete day, or to some other cause which would disclose itself later, hecould not tell. Madame Alvarez, the afternoon before, while riding inthe Alameda, had been insulted by a group of men around a cafe, who hadrisen and shouted after her, one of them throwing a wine-glass into herlap as she rode past. His troopers had charged the sidewalk andcarried off six of the men to the carcel. He and Rojas had urged thePresident to make every preparation for immediate flight, to have thehorses put to his travelling carriage, and had warned him when at thereview to take up his position at the point nearest to his ownbody-guard, and as far as possible from the troops led by Mendoza.Stuart added that he had absolute confidence in the former. Thepoliceman who had attempted to carry Burke's note to Mendoza hadconfessed that he was the only traitor in the camp, and that he hadtried to work on his comrades without success. Stuart begged Clay tojoin him as quickly as possible. Clay went up the hill to the Palms,and after consulting with Mr. Langham, dictated an order to Kirkland,instructing him to call the men together and to point out to them howmuch better their condition had been since they had entered the mines,and to promise them an increase of wages if they remained faithful toMr. Langham's interests, and a small pension to any one who might beinjured "from any cause whatsoever" while serving him.

  "Tell them, if they are loyal, they can live in their shacks rent freehereafter," wrote Clay. "They are always asking for that. It's acheap generosity," he added aloud to Mr. Langham, "because we've neverbeen able to collect rent from any of them yet."

  At noon young Langham ordered the best three horses in the stables tobe brought to the door of the Palms for Clay, MacWilliams, and himself.Clay's last words to King were to have the yacht in readiness to put tosea when he telephoned him to do so, and he advised the women to havetheir dresses and more valuable possessions packed ready to be taken onboard.

  "Don't you think I might see the review if I went on horseback?" Hopeasked. "I could get away then, if there should be any trouble."

  Clay answered with a look of such alarm and surprise that Hope laughed.

  "See the review! I should say not," he exclaimed. "I don't even wantTed to be there."

  "Oh, that's always the way," said Hope, "I miss everything. I thinkI'll come, however, anyhow. The servants are all going, and I'll gowith them disguised in a turban."

  As the men neared Valencia, Clay turned in his saddle, and askedLangham if he thought his sister would really venture into the town.

  "She'd better not let me catch her, if she does," the fond brotherreplied.

  The reviewing party left the Government Palace for the Alameda at threeo'clock, President Alvarez riding on horseback in advance, and MadameAlvarez sitting in the State carriage with one of her attendants, andwith Stuart's troopers gathered so closely about her that the men'sboots scraped against the wheels, and their numbers hid her almostentirely from sight.

  The great square in which the evolutions were to take place was linedon its four sides by the carriages of the wealthy Olanchoans, except atthe two gates, where there was a wide space left open to admit thesoldiers. The branches of the trees on the edges of the bare paradeground were black with men and boys, and the balconies and roofs of thehouses that faced it were gay with streamers and flags, and alive withwomen wrapped for the occasion in their colored shawls. Seated on thegrass between the carriages, or surging up and down behind them, werethousands of people, each hurrying to gain a better place of vantage,or striving to hold the one he had, and forming a restless, turbulentaudience in which all individual cries were lost in a great murmur oflaughter, and calls, and cheers. The mass knit together, and pressedforward as the President's band swung jauntily into the square andhalted in one corner, and a shout of expectancy went up from the treesand housetops as the President's body-guard entered at the lower gate,and the broken place in its ranks showed that it was escorting theState carriage. The troopers fell back on two sides, and the carriage,with the President riding at its head, passed on, and took up aposition in front of the other carriages, and close to one of the sidesof the hollow square. At Stuart's orders Clay, MacWilliams, andLangham had pushed their horses into the rear rank of cavalry, andremained wedged between the troopers within twenty feet of where MadameAlvarez was sitting. She was very white, and the powder on her facegave her an added and unnatural pallor. As the people cheered herhusband and herself she raised her head slightly and seemed to betrying to catch any sound of dissent in their greeting, or somepossible undercurrent of disfavor, but the welcome appeared to be bothgenuine and hearty, until a second shout smothered it completely as thefigure of old General Rojas, the Vice-President, and the most dearlyloved by the common people, came through the gate at the head of hisregiment. There was such greeting for him that the welcome to thePresident seemed mean in comparison, and it was with an embarrassmentwhich both felt that the two men drew near together, and each leanedfrom his saddle to grasp the other's hand. Madame Alvarez sank backrigidly on her cushions, and her eyes flashed with anticipation andexcitement. She drew her mantilla a little closer about her shoulders,with a nervous shudder as though she were cold. Suddenly the look ofanxiety in her eyes changed to one of annoyance, and she beckoned Clayimperiously to the side of the carriage.

  "Look," she said, pointing across the square. "If I am not mistakenthat is Miss Langham, Miss Hope. The one on the black horse--it mustbe she, for none of the native ladies ride. It is not safe for her tobe here alone. Go," she commanded, "bring her here to me. Put hernext to the carriage, or perhaps she will be safer with you among thetroopers."

  Clay had recognized Hope before Madame Alvarez had finished speaking,and dashed off at a gallop, skirting the line of carriages. Hope hadstopped her horse beside a victoria, and was talking to the nativewomen who occupied it, and who were scandalized at her appearance in apublic place with no one but a groom to attend her.

  "Why, it's the same thing as a polo match," protested Hope, as Claypulled up angrily beside the victoria. "I always ride over to poloalone at Newport, at least with James," she added, nodding her headtoward the servant.

  The man approached Clay and touched his hat apologetically, "Miss Hopewould come, sir," he said, "and I thought I'd better be with her thanto go off and tell Mr. Langham, sir. I knew she wouldn't wait for me."

  "I asked you not to come," Clay said to Hope, in a low voice.

  "I wanted to know the worst at once," she answered. "I was anxiousabout Ted--and you."

  "Well, it can't be helped now," he said. "Come, we must hurry, here isour friend, the enemy." He bowed to their acquaintances in thevictoria and they trotted briskly off to the side of the President'scarriage, just as a yell arose from the crowd that made all the othershouts which had preceded it sound like the cheers of children atrecess.

  "It reminds me of a football match," whispered y
oung Langham,excitedly, "when the teams run on the field. Look at Alvarez and Rojaswatching Mendoza."

  Mendoza advanced at the front of his three troops of cavalry, lookingneither to the left nor right, and by no sign acknowledging the fierceuproarious greeting of the people. Close behind him came his chosenband of cowboys and ruffians. They were the best equipped and leastdisciplined soldiers in the army, and were, to the great relief of thepeople, seldom seen in the city, but were kept moving in the mountainpasses and along the coast line, on the lookout for smugglers with whomthey were on the most friendly terms. They were a picturesque body ofblackguards, in their hightopped boots and silver-tipped sombreros andheavy, gaudy saddles, but the shout that had gone up at their advancewas due as much to the fear they inspired as to any great love for themor their chief.

  "Now all the chessmen are on the board, and the game can begin," saidClay. "It's like the scene in the play, where each man has his swordat another man's throat and no one dares make the first move." Hesmiled as he noted, with the eye of one who had seen Continental troopsin action, the shuffling steps and slovenly carriage of the half-grownsoldiers that followed Mendoza's cavalry at a quick step. Stuart'spicked men, over whom he had spent many hot and weary hours, lookedlike a troop of Life Guardsmen in comparison. Clay noted theirsuperiority, but he also saw that in numbers they were most woefully ata disadvantage.

  It was a brilliant scene for so modest a capital. The sun flashed onthe trappings of the soldiers, on the lacquer and polished metal workof the carriages; and the Parisian gowns of their occupants and thefluttering flags and banners filled the air with color and movement,while back of all, framing the parade ground with a band of black, wasthe restless mob of people applauding the evolutions, and cheering fortheir favorites, Alvarez, Mendoza, and Rojas, moved by an excitementthat was in disturbing contrast to the easy good-nature of their usualmanner.

  The marching and countermarching of the troops had continued withspirit for some time, and there was a halt in the evolutions which leftthe field vacant, except for the presence of Mendoza's cavalrymen, whowere moving at a walk along one side of the quadrangle. Alvarez andVice-President Rojas, with Stuart, as an adjutant at their side, weresitting their horses within some fifty yards of the State carriage andthe body-guard. Alvarez made a conspicuous contrast in his black coatand high hat to the brilliant greens and reds of his generals'uniforms, but he sat his saddle as well as either of the others, andhis white hair, white imperial and mustache, and the dignity of hisbearing distinguished him above them both. Little Stuart, sitting athis side, with his blue eyes glaring from under his white helmet andhis face burned to almost as red a tint as his curly hair, looked likea fierce little bull-dog in comparison. None of the three men spoke asthey sat motionless and quite alone waiting for the next movement ofthe troops.

  It proved to be one of moment. Even before Mendoza had ridden towardthem with his sword at salute, Clay gave an exclamation ofenlightenment and concern. He saw that the men who were believed to bedevoted to Rojas, had been halted and left standing at the farthestcorner of the plaza, nearly two hundred yards from where the Presidenthad taken his place, that Mendoza's infantry surrounded them on everyside, and that Mendoza's cowboys, who had been walking their horses,had wheeled and were coming up with an increasing momentum, a flyingmass of horses and men directed straight at the President himself.

  Mendoza galloped up to Alvarez with his sword still in salute. His eyeswere burning with excitement and with the light of success. No one butStuart and Rojas heard his words; to the spectators and to the army heappeared as though he was, in his capacity of Commander-in-Chief,delivering some brief report, or asking for instructions.

  "Dr. Alvarez," he said, "as the head of the army I arrest you for hightreason; you have plotted to place yourself in office without popularelection. You are also accused of large thefts of public funds. Imust ask you to ride with me to the military prison. General Rojas, Iregret that as an accomplice of the President's, you must come with usalso. I will explain my action to the people when you are safe inprison, and I will proclaim martial law. If your troops attempt tointerfere, my men have orders to fire on them and you."

  Stuart did not wait for his sentence. He had heard the heavy beat ofthe cavalry coming up on them at a trot. He saw the ranks open and twomen catch at each bridle rein of both Alvarez and Rojas and drag themon with them, buried in the crush of horses about them, and sweptforward by the weight and impetus of the moving mass behind. Stuartdashed off to the State carriage and seized the nearest of the horsesby the bridle. "To the Palace!" he shouted to his men. "Shoot any onewho tries to stop you. Forward, at a gallop," he commanded.

  The populace had not discovered what had occurred until it wasfinished. The coup d'etat had been long considered and the manner inwhich it was to be carried out carefully planned. The cavalry hadswept across the parade ground and up the street before the people sawthat they carried Rojas and Alvarez with them. The regiment commandedby Rojas found itself hemmed in before and behind by Mendoza's tworegiments. They were greatly outnumbered, but they fired a scatteringshot, and following their captured leader, broke through the linearound them and pursued the cavalry toward the military prison.

  It was impossible to tell in the uproar which followed how many or howfew had been parties to the plot. The mob, shrieking and shouting andleaping in the air, swarmed across the parade ground, and from a dozendifferent points men rose above the heads of the people and haranguedthem in violent speeches. And while some of the soldiers and thecitizens gathered anxiously about these orators, others ran through thecity calling for the rescue of the President, for an attack on thepalace, and shrieking "Long live the Government!" and "Long live theRevolution!" The State carriage raced through the narrow streets withits body-guard galloping around it, sweeping down in its rush straypedestrians, and scattering the chairs and tables in front of thecafes. As it dashed up the long avenue of the palace, Stuart calledhis men back and ordered them to shut and barricade the great irongates and to guard them against the coming of the mob, whileMacWilliams and young Langham pulled open the carriage door andassisted the President's wife and her terrified companion to alight.Madame Alvarez was trembling with excitement as she leaned on Langham'sarm, but she showed no signs of fear in her face or in her manner.

  "Mr. Clay has gone to bring your travelling carriage to the rear door,"Langham said. "Stuart tells us it is harnessed and ready. You willhurry, please, and get whatever you need to carry with you. We willsee you safely to the coast."

  As they entered the hall, and were ascending the great marble stairway,Hope and her groom, who had followed in the rear of the cavalry, camerunning to meet them. "I got in by the back way," Hope explained."The streets there are all deserted. How can I help you?" she asked,eagerly.

  "By leaving me," cried the older woman. "Good God, child, have I notenough to answer for without dragging you into this? Go home at oncethrough the botanical garden, and then by way of the wharves. Thatpart of the city is still empty."

  "Where are your servants; why are they not here?" Hope demanded withoutheeding her. The palace was strangely empty; no footsteps came runningto greet them, no doors opened or shut as they hurried to MadameAlvarez's apartments. The servants of the household had fled at thefirst sound of the uproar in the city, and the dresses and ornamentsscattered on the floor told that they had not gone empty-handed. Thewoman who had accompanied Madame Alvarez to the review sank weeping onthe bed, and then, as the shouts grew suddenly louder and more near,ran to hide herself in the upper stories of the house. Hope crossed tothe window and saw a great mob of soldiers and citizens sweep aroundthe corner and throw themselves against the iron fence of the palace."You will have to hurry," she said. "Remember, you are risking thelives of those boys by your delay."

  There was a large bed in the room, and Madame Alvarez had pulled itforward and was bending over a safe that had opened in the wall, andwhich had been hid
den by the head board of the bed. She held up abundle of papers in her hand, wrapped in a leather portfolio. "Do yousee these?" she cried, "they are drafts for five millions of dollars."She tossed them back into the safe and swung the door shut.

  "You are a witness. I do not take them," she said.

  "I don't understand," Hope answered, "but hurry. Have you everythingyou want--have you your jewels?"

  "Yes," the woman answered, as she rose to her feet, "they are mine."

  A yell more loud and terrible than any that had gone before rose fromthe garden below, and there was the sound of iron beating against iron,and cries of rage and execration from a great multitude.

  "I will not go!" the Spanish woman cried, suddenly. "I will not leaveAlvarez to that mob. If they want to kill me, let them kill me." Shethrew the bag that held her jewels on the bed, and pushing open thewindow stepped out upon the balcony. She was conspicuous in her blackdress against the yellow stucco of the wall, and in an instant the mobsaw her and a mad shout of exultation and anger rose from the mass thatbeat and crushed itself against the high iron railings of the garden.Hope caught the woman by the skirt and dragged her back. "You aremad," she said. "What good can you do your husband here? Saveyourself and he will come to you when he can. There is nothing you cando for him now; you cannot give your life for him. You are wasting it,and you are risking the lives of the men who are waiting for us below.Come, I tell you."

  MacWilliams left Clay waiting beside the diligence and ran from thestable through the empty house and down the marble stairs to the gardenwithout meeting any one on his way. He saw Stuart helping anddirecting his men to barricade the gates with iron urns and gardenbenches and sentry-boxes. Outside the mob were firing at him withtheir revolvers, and calling him foul names, but Stuart did not seem tohear them. He greeted MacWilliams with a cheerful little laugh."Well," he asked, "is she ready?"

  "No, but we are. Clay and I've been waiting there for five minutes.We found Miss Hope's groom and sent him back to the Palms with amessage to King. We told him to run the yacht to Los Bocos and lie offshore until we came. He is to take her on down the coast to Truxillo,where our man-of-war is lying, and they will give her shelter as apolitical refugee."

  "Why don't you drive her to the Palms at once?" demanded Stuart,anxiously, "and take her on board the yacht there? It is ten miles toBocos and the roads are very bad."

  "Clay says we could never get her through the city," MacWilliamsanswered. "We should have to fight all the way. But the city to thesouth is deserted, and by going out by the back roads, we can makeBocos by ten o'clock to-night. The yacht should reach there by seven."

  "You are right; go back. I will call off some of my men. The restmust hold this mob back until you start; then I will follow with theothers. Where is Miss Hope?"

  "We don't know. Clay is frantic. Her groom says she is somewhere inthe palace."

  "Hurry," Stuart commanded. "If Mendoza gets here before Madame Alvarezleaves, it will be too late."

  MacWilliams sprang up the steps of the palace, and Stuart, calling tothe men nearest him to follow, started after him on a run.

  As Stuart entered the palace with his men at his heels, Clay washurrying from its rear entrance along the upper hall, and Hope andMadame Alvarez were leaving the apartments of the latter at its front.They met at the top of the main stairway just as Stuart put his foot onits lower step. The young Englishman heard the clatter of his menfollowing close behind him and leaped eagerly forward. Half way to thetop the noise behind him ceased, and turning his head quickly he lookedback over his shoulder and saw that the men had halted at the foot ofthe stairs and stood huddled together in disorder looking up at him.Stuart glanced over their heads and down the hallway to the gardenbeyond to see if they were followed, but the mob still fought from theouter side of the barricade. He waved his sword impatiently andstarted forward again. "Come on!" he shouted. But the men below himdid not move. Stuart halted once more and this time turned about andlooked down upon them with surprise and anger. There was not one ofthem he could not have called by name. He knew all their littletroubles, their love-affairs, even. They came to him for comfort andadvice, and to beg for money. He had regarded them as his children,and he was proud of them as soldiers because they were the work of hishands.

  So, instead of a sharp command, he asked, "What is it?" in surprise,and stared at them wondering. He could not or would not comprehend,even though he saw that those in the front rank were pushing back andthose behind were urging them forward. The muzzles of their carbineswere directed at every point, and on their faces fear and hate andcowardice were written in varying likenesses.

  "What does this mean?" Stuart demanded, sharply. "What are you waitingfor?"

  Clay had just reached the top of the stairs. He saw Madame Alvarez andHope coming toward him, and at the sight of Hope he gave an exclamationof relief.

  Then his eyes turned and fell on the tableau below, on Stuart's back,as he stood confronting the men, and on their scowling upturned facesand half-lifted carbines. Clay had lived for a longer time amongSpanish-Americans than had the English subaltern, or else he was thequicker of the two to believe in evil and ingratitude, for he gave acry of warning, and motioned the women away.

  "Stuart!" he cried. "Come away; for God's sake, what are you doing?Come back!"

  The Englishman started at the sound of his friend's voice, but he didnot turn his head. He began to descend the stairs slowly, a step at atime, staring at the mob so fiercely that they shrank back before thelook of wounded pride and anger in his eyes. Those in the rear raisedand levelled their rifles. Without taking his eyes from theirs, Stuartdrew his revolver, and with his sword swinging from its wrist-strap,pointed his weapon at the mass below him.

  "What does this mean?" he demanded. "Is this mutiny?"

  A voice from the rear of the crowd of men shrieked: "Death to theSpanish woman. Death to all traitors. Long live Mendoza," and theothers echoed the cry in chorus.

  Clay sprang down the broad stairs calling, "Come to me;" but before hecould reach Stuart, a woman's voice rang out, in a long terrible cry ofterror, a cry that was neither a prayer nor an imprecation, but whichheld the agony of both. Stuart started, and looked up to where MadameAlvarez had thrown herself toward him across the broad balustrade ofthe stairway. She was silent with fear, and her hand clutched at theair, as she beckoned wildly to him. Stuart stared at her with atroubled smile and waved his empty hand to reassure her. The movementwas final, for the men below, freed from the reproach of his eyes,flung up their carbines and fired, some wildly, without placing theirguns at rest, and others steadily and aiming straight at his heart.

  As the volley rang out and the smoke drifted up the great staircase,the subaltern's hands tossed high above his head, his body sank intoitself and toppled backward, and, like a tired child falling to sleep,the defeated soldier of fortune dropped back into the outstretched armsof his friend.

  Clay lifted him upon his knee, and crushed him closer against hisbreast with one arm, while he tore with his free hand at the stockabout the throat and pushed his fingers in between the buttons of thetunic. They came forth again wet and colored crimson.

  "Stuart!" Clay gasped. "Stuart, speak to me, look at me!" He shook thebody in his arms with fierce roughness, peering into the face thatrested on his shoulder, as though he could command the eyes back againto light and life. "Don't leave me!" he said. "For God's sake, oldman, don't leave me!"

  But the head on his shoulder only sank the closer and the bodystiffened in his arms. Clay raised his eyes and saw the soldiers stillstanding, irresolute and appalled at what they had done, and awe-struckat the sight of the grief before them.

  Clay gave a cry as terrible as the cry of a woman who has seen herchild mangled before her eyes, and lowering the body quickly to thesteps, he ran at the scattering mass below him. As he came they fleddown the corridor, shrieking and calling to their friends to throw openthe gat
es and begging them to admit the mob. When they reached theouter porch they turned, encouraged by the touch of numbers, and haltedto fire at the man who still followed them.

  Clay stopped, with a look in his eyes which no one who knew them hadever seen there, and smiled with pleasure in knowing himself a masterin what he had to do. And at each report of his revolver one ofStuart's assassins stumbled and pitched heavily forward on his face.Then he turned and walked slowly back up the hall to the stairway likea man moving in his sleep. He neither saw nor heard the bullets thatbit spitefully at the walls about him and rattled among the glasspendants of the great chandeliers above his head. When he came to thestep on which the body lay he stooped and picked it up gently, andholding it across his breast, strode on up the stairs. MacWilliams andLangham were coming toward him, and saw the helpless figure in his arms.

  "What is it?" they cried; "is he wounded, is he hurt?"

  "He is dead," Clay answered, passing on with his burden. "Get Hopeaway."

  Madame Alvarez stood with the girl's arms about her, her eyes closedand her figure trembling.

  "Let me be!" she moaned. "Don't touch me; let me die. My God, whathave I to live for now?" She shook off Hope's supporting arm, andstood before them, all her former courage gone, trembling and shiveringin agony. "I do not care what they do to me!" she cried. She tore herlace mantilla from her shoulders and threw it on the floor. "I shallnot leave this place. He is dead. Why should I go? He is dead. Theyhave murdered him; he is dead."

  "She is fainting," said Hope. Her voice was strained and hard.

  To her brother she seemed to have grown suddenly much older, and helooked to her to tell him what to do.

  "Take hold of her," she said. "She will fall." The woman sank backinto the arms of the men, trembling and moaning feebly.

  "Now carry her to the carriage," said Hope. "She has fainted; it isbetter; she does not know what has happened."

  Clay, still bearing the body in his arms, pushed open the first doorthat stood ajar before him with his foot. It opened into the greatbanqueting hall of the palace, but he could not choose.

  He had to consider now the safety of the living, whose lives were stillin jeopardy.

  The long table in the centre of the hall was laid with places for manypeople, for it had been prepared for the President and the President'sguests, who were to have joined with him in celebrating the successfulconclusion of the review. From outside the light of the sun, which wasjust sinking behind the mountains, shone dimly upon the silver on theboard, on the glass and napery, and the massive gilt centre-piecesfilled with great clusters of fresh flowers. It looked as though theservants had but just left the room. Even the candles had been lit inreadiness, and as their flames wavered and smoked in the evening breezethey cast uncertain shadows on the walls and showed the stern faces ofthe soldier presidents frowning down on the crowded table from theirgilded frames.

  There was a great leather lounge stretching along one side of the hall,and Clay moved toward this quickly and laid his burden down. He wasconscious that Hope was still following him. He straightened the limbsof the body and folded the arms across the breast and pressed his handfor an instant on the cold hands of his friend, and then whisperingsomething between his lips, turned and walked hurriedly away.

  Hope confronted him in the doorway. She was sobbing silently. "Must weleave him," she pleaded, "must we leave him--like this?"

  From the garden there came the sound of hammers ringing on the ironhinges, and a great crash of noises as the gate fell back from itsfastenings, and the mob rushed over the obstacles upon which it hadfallen. It seemed as if their yells of exultation and anger must reacheven the ears of the dead man.

  "They are calling Mendoza," Clay whispered, "he must be with them.Come, we will have to run for our lives now."

  But before he could guess what Hope was about to do, or could preventher, she had slipped past him and picked up Stuart's sword that hadfallen from his wrist to the floor, and laid it on the soldier's body,and closed his hands upon its hilt. She glanced quickly about her asthough looking for something, and then with a sob of relief ran to thetable, and sweeping it of an armful of its flowers, stepped swiftlyback again to the lounge and heaped them upon it.

  "Come, for God's sake, come!" Clay called to her in a whisper from thedoor.

  Hope stood for an instant staring at the young Englishman as thecandle-light flickered over his white face, and then, dropping on herknees, she pushed back the curly hair from about the boy's forehead andkissed him. Then, without turning to look again, she placed her handin Clay's and he ran with her, dragging her behind him down the lengthof the hall, just as the mob entered it on the floor below them andfilled the palace with their shouts of triumph.

  As the sun sank lower its light fell more dimly on the lonely figure inthe vast dining-hall, and as the gloom deepened there, the candlesburned with greater brilliancy, and the faces of the portraits shonemore clearly.

  They seemed to be staring down less sternly now upon the white mortalface of the brother-in-arms who had just joined them.

  One who had known him among his own people would have seen in theattitude and in the profile of the English soldier a likeness to hisancestors of the Crusades who lay carved in stone in the villagechurch, with their faces turned to the sky, their faithful houndswaiting at their feet, and their hands pressed upward in prayer.

  And when, a moment later, the half-crazed mob of men and boys sweptinto the great room, with Mendoza at their head, something of thepathos of the young Englishman's death in his foreign place of exilemust have touched them, for they stopped appalled and startled, andpressed back upon their fellows, with eager whispers. TheSpanish-American General strode boldly forward, but his eyes loweredbefore the calm, white face, and either because the lighted candles andthe flowers awoke in him some memory of the great Church that hadnursed him, or because the jagged holes in the soldier's tunic appealedto what was bravest in him, he crossed himself quickly, and thenraising his hands slowly to his visor, lifted his hat and pointed withit to the door. And the mob, without once looking back at the richtreasure of silver on the table, pushed out before him, steppingsoftly, as though they had intruded on a shrine.