CHAPTER X
A BARBARIC ORDEAL
When Paul awoke the next morning just after daylight, he did not feel verygood. Accustomed all his life to fresh air and infinite spaces, the close,hot little log house oppressed him. His head felt heavy and his lungschoked. Jim felt likewise and made audible complaint, but the door wassoon opened, and again it was Luiz and a comrade with food.
"Luiz, you ain't no beauty an' you can't talk a real decent language,"said Long Jim, "but I'm pow'ful glad to see you."
The words were foreign to Luiz, but he understood Long Jim's tone. Hesmiled and showed his white teeth, but when his glance fell upon Paul hebecame sad. Then he looked quickly away. He did not wish either Paul orhis comrade to read anything in that glance. Luiz did not have a bad heartand he was troubled.
When they had eaten their breakfast, Luiz put his hand on Paul's shoulder,and pointed to the door, beckoning also to Long Jim. His manner indicatedplainly that they were to leave the prison.
"All right, pardner," said Long Jim. "You won't have to git no pole topry me out uv this place."
Luiz led the way and the two followed gladly. The air was crisper andfresher than usual, and to both of them it felt divine. They inhaled deepbreaths, and thought that the world had never looked so beautiful. What agolden sunrise! What a blue sky! What magnificent green woods off thereunder the horizon! They felt strength and courage rushing back in a flood.
"Which way now, Mr. Spaniard?" said Long Jim. "Has your captain repented,an' does he want to give us the finest rooms in his house? I can't saythat we liked the tavern he made us stop at last night."
Luiz shook his head, either to signify that he did not understand or thatthere was no reply, and led the way down a narrow path shut in on eitherside with magnolias and cypresses. The little group of soldiers enclosedPaul and Long Jim, but all their glances were for the boy, none for theman.
The enclosed path led on for two or three hundred yards. Paul now and thencaught glimpses through the trees of the chateau or a passing face, and heheard a low murmur that seemed to be the hum of many voices.
The path ended presently at a gate in a high board wall, and both gate andwall were thick and strong Here a Spaniard dressed like a minor officerwas waiting, and began to unlock the gate.
"Now what under the sun can they be about?" asked Long Jim, to whom allthis seemed very strange. "Are they goin' to tie us up in a pen?"
The heavy gate was unlocked and swung open a foot or so. Two soldierssuddenly seized Long Jim and pulled him back, while another thrust Paulinto the open space. The officer put in his hand a sword--the very onewith which he had wounded Alvarez, Paul's fingers closing mechanicallyover the hilt. Then they shoved Paul inside, and quickly closed and lockedthe gate behind him. But the last look that Luiz had bent upon the boy wasone of pity and sympathy.
Paul staggered with the force of the push that the men had given him, andfor a moment or two he was dazed, but eye and brain alike cleared as agreat shout arose. Then he beheld an extraordinary scene.
The boy stood within a ring fence enclosing a circular space perhapsthirty yards across, free from grass, and trodden hard. The fence was ofboards only about half way around, the rest of it being made of strongparallel bars about two feet apart and fastened to posts. At the far sidea rude log stable seemed to open into it. The place might have beenintended as a breaking ground for horses but Paul did not have time tothink.
Facing him just outside the fence and sitting on a hastily constructedwooden seat was Francisco Alvarez, still in his finest uniform. Beside himwas Braxton Wyatt, also in a Spanish uniform, and all about them on eitherside, wherever the fence was made of parallel bars and open to see,clustered the mob, soldiers, laborers, servants, white faces, black faces,yellow faces, brown faces, straight hair, curly hair, and kinky hair,French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Indians, negroes, and many mixtures, everyone eager and tense, and every eye bent upon Paul who stood, back to thegate, holding the sword in his hand, but unconscious that he held it.
What was this mummery? Why was he a spectacle for that mob? All the bloodrushed to Paul's head and the little pulses in his temples began to beatlike hammers. He looked at Alvarez, but the Spaniard had turned his faceinto a stony mask, and he could read no meaning there. Then he looked atBraxton Wyatt, and the renegade's countenance plainly expressed malignityand triumph.
The great shout that greeted the entrance of Paul died away to a silenceso heavy that it seemed ominous. Then Francisco Alvarez looked toward thewooden building, at the far side of the ring, and raised his hand. A gatethere was thrown open, and a man, sword in hand, strolled lazily out.Again a tremendous shout arose, and the mob pressed closer to the bars,those in front sitting on the grass and those behind standing up in orderthat they might look over them.
Francisco Alvarez raised his hand a second time, and instantly there wassilence once more. He was like a feudal lord dispensing justice in theopen air before all his retainers.
"Kaintock," he called in a loud voice, "since you are so expert with thesword, we give you another chance to display your skill. Defend yourselffrom this champion."
Again the approving shout of the mob arose, and Paul looked across thering, where the swordsman had come forth.
The man was of great size, and his whole appearance reminded Paul of theancient gladiators of whom he had read. He seemed to be a West Indian ofSpanish descent, very dark and with immense shoulders. He wore a redshirt, which added to his strange and savage appearance. He carried in hishand a long sword, much longer than Paul's and when he faced the lad hesuddenly grasped the hilt of his weapon in both hands and twirled it aboutuntil it made a glittering circle. The crowd set up a shout, but Paul feltchilled through and through.
"I have no quarrel with this man," he called to Alvarez, "and I will notfight him."
"You have no choice," replied Alvarez, and the more savage in the crowd,who wished to see barbaric sport, shouted their approval. But some weresilent. Long Jim struggled with four men, and exclaimed, "It's murder!He's only a boy!" But the four held him fast.
The swordsman, grinning in the certainty of easy triumph, advanced uponPaul.
Now Paul understood. He was there to furnish sport, terrible, deadlysport, and he must fight if he would save himself. As Alvarez truly said,no choice was left to him. If he sprang for the barrier they would thrusthim back, and that was not a thing to be endured.
Francisco Alvarez, spurred on by the sting of his wound, and urged, too,by Braxton Wyatt, who was mad for the deed the moment he heard of it, haddone this wicked thing. The strain of cruelty in his nature, inheritedperhaps, from far-off ancestors who had looked upon pitiless games in thearena in the Roman cities in Spain, was completely in control.
"It is better than I thought," he said to Braxton Wyatt. "The ring servesthe purpose well. We shall have some royal sport If Kaintock will butfight."
"He will fight," said Braxton Wyatt.
The swordsman advanced upon Paul and thrust with his shining blade. Paulfelt intuitively that he was a master of the weapon, reinforced, too, byenormous strength. He, a boy, would have but little chance. Yet he parriedthe thrust and replied with one of his own that flashed dangerously nearthe man's side. The crowd again shouted approval, but as before some weresilent. Long Jim made another effort to drag himself loose, but he couldnot. The men held him. Nevertheless, he repeated his cry: "It's murder!He's only a boy!"
The rapid interchange of thrust and parry followed, and the swordsman grewangry. He was there not only to furnish sport, but to have it also forhimself. He did not like to be held back by one over whom he had thoughtvictory so easy. Suddenly he exerted his full strength and broke throughPaul's guard. The lad felt his left shoulder and arm seared as if by agreat flame, and, with a cry that he could not repress, he dropped back.
The swordsman, too, stepped back, sure now of his triumph. The shout camefrom the crowd once more, but only from a part of it, and brave, faithfulLong Jim closed his
eyes that he might not see what would follow.
The elated swordsman held up his weapon as one would a banner. It was abroad blade like a cutlass and it glittered in the brilliant sunlight. Thenext moment there was the sound of a shot, the man uttered a cry of pain,although himself untouched, and the sword, broken in several pieces, fellto the ground. It had been shot from his hand with a rifle bullet.
Long Jim, opening his eyes, uttered a cry of joy and Henry Ware, smokingrifle in hand, pressed his way through the crowd, which he had enteredunnoticed in the excitement.
Francisco Alvarez sprang to his feet in anger. Not for some moments did hesee the figure of the one who fired the shot, and even then he did notknow who it was. But Braxton Wyatt knew Henry Ware at once, and he wasresolved that he should not escape.
"Seize him! seize him!" cried the renegade. "He is the most dangerous ofthem all!"
But Henry offered no resistance, as the soldiers rushed toward him,quietly surrendering his rifle. Tom Ross, who was behind him, angrilythrew back the crowd and would have fought, but Henry said: "Give up,Tom, it's best for the present."
Henry's eyes were upon his comrade who had been subjected to suchtreatment. Paul stood erect, but there were stains on his shoulder, and hewas pale and weak.
"Look to him," said Henry threateningly to Francisco Alvarez who wasapproaching. "It is an outrage of which the Governor General of Louisianashall know."
Alvarez flushed. He felt now slight prickings of the conscience and ofapprehension. It was indeed a wicked deed that he had done, but he had nomind to be bearded by another from Kaintock.
"He will receive the proper attention," he said, "but you are my prisoner,and so is this man who has just been taken with you. I tell you, too, thatI am in supreme command here, and I take the responsibility for all myacts."
Braxton Wyatt had crowded near, but Henry and Tom refused to notice him.Luiz went into the ring and led Paul away, binding up his shoulder wherethe flesh was cut, although the hurt was not serious. "Take their arms andput them all in the same prison," said Alvarez to one of his officers andthe four were escorted to the log house which Paul and Long Jim had leftnot long before.
"Our plan has been marked by some success after all," said Alvarez toBraxton Wyatt. "It has drawn two more into our hands."
"There is a fifth," said Braxton Wyatt. "The one they call Shif'less Sol,and we have not got him. As long as a single one of them is free we are indanger."
The Spaniard laughed.
"You exaggerate their powers," he said. "We have nothing to fear from onewandering hunter."
"But this man, Shif'less Sol, is full of cunning," said Braxton Wyatt.
The Spaniard's only reply was to hold his head a little higher. It was hisplan now to assume his haughtiest manner. The little fear that he had donewrong, that his act in forcing Paul into the ring against a professionalswordsman, a gladiator as it were, was mediaeval, and that harm might cometo him from it, clung to him. But pride bade him never to show it.
As he and Braxton Wyatt went into the Chateau of Beaulieu, the doors ofthe log prison closed upon the four comrades. Paul, under the care ofLuiz, reached it first but the others were just behind. Paul sat on thefloor and leaned against the wall. The others bent tenderly over him. ButPaul looked up at them and smiled.
"It isn't much," he said. "The sword only grazed me. My clothing saved mefrom a bad cut. But I wish you boys, whatever happens, would remember thatSpaniard, Luiz. He's been kind to me."
"We'll do it," said Henry. "I don't know what will come of all this, Paul,but I feel sure that we'll succeed."
"Of course," said Paul, "but you came just in time, and that was a greatshot of yours."
"We were in the woods," said Henry, "and we saw the crowd gathering. Weknew some mischief was afoot, and they were so eager on it that we came upunnoticed. I wanted Tom to stay back, but he was afraid he would beneeded."
"And Shif'less Sol?" said Paul. "Where is he?"
Henry laughed.
"The shiftless one is about the shiftiest man in the wilderness," hereplied. "Do you suppose that he would ever walk into a trap, when therewas nothing inside the trap worth the risk? Didn't he know that Tom and Iwere sufficient for any task that might be ahead of us this morning?"
Paul laughed, too, and the others were glad to see the color coming backinto his face.
"Good old Sol," he said, "I'm glad he didn't come too. He's somewhere outthere in the woods, and he's the one link between us and Kentucky. We'llbe sure to hear from him."
They talked of their plans, but for the time, they could see no way.Shif'less Sol might go on alone to New Orleans, but it needed the presenceof the five to be convincing.
"He wouldn't go anyhow," said Paul. "Sol would never leave us here."
Luiz brought them food and water at noon, and then they were left again tothemselves.
The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi Page 10