Where Duty Called; or, In Honor Bound

by George Waldo Browne

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  "IT IS MANUEL MARLIN!"

  It was a beautiful morning, that which followed, and our friends wereastir early. Wandering out upon the streets, eager to learn if any newtidings had come of the spy, they soon found themselves walking underthe refreshing shade of rows of ornamental trees. In following thiscourse, they came somewhat abruptly upon a plaza floored for a widespace with rare mosaics, and lit at night by swinging electric lights.

  "This is the Plaza de Bolivar," said Jack, "a favorite place for thepresident's band to come and play. See, there is the statue of therepublic's hero."

  Ronie and Harrie had already discovered an equestrian statue, mountedupon a heavy pedestal, while the rider held with one hand astraightened rein on his refractory steed, and with the other hepointed his sword high into the air, as if he would pierce someimaginary enemy stationed in space. It was a bizarre affair, theweather-stained image of a horse rearing into the air after the fashionof some huge rocking-horse. From the bold figure of man and steedtheir gaze dropped to the base, where they saw in raised letters thename of Simon Bolivar, the Liberator of Venezuela. Instinctively, ourAmericans uncovered their heads out of respect to the memory of the manwho was not only a great warrior, but a notable statesman, and a poetof considerable merit. His proclamations to the armies are examples ofmasterly eloquence, and as much to be admired as his military genius,which won for him the applause of the five republics that he liberated.The statue of Bolivar is in bronze, and is considered one of the mostnotable examples of modern art.

  When his young companions had tired of looking at the equestrian figureof the warrior, Jack said:

  "Now come with me, lads, and I will show you a sight worth two of thisto you and me."

  Without reply, Ronie and Harrie followed their friend until they cameupon a delightfully retired retreat, which, without the bizarreattractions of the Plaza Bolivar, had a freshness and quiet beauty theother lacked. Anticipating now what they were to meet, to our youngAmericans there was indeed an air of sanctity and hallowed peace thatthe more ornate spot did not possess. With reverential steps theymoved silently but swiftly along the clean, graveled path bordered withdeep, green grass and overhung with interlacing branches of the treeswhich formed a roof over their heads, until they reached the center ofthe plot, where the torrid sun of the tropics beat down upon the headof the statue they had come to see.

  This was the Plaza Washington, and the man honored here was theAmerican patriot, the Father of His Country, who had been given thishonored recognition in the capital of the United States of Venezuela.Uncovering their heads, the three stood for several minutes in asilence that seemed too sacred to be broken, while they looked upon thecalm, benign features of Washington, honored thus by a race they hadnot expected would pay such homage. At that very moment, unobserved bythem, a couple of natives a little way off, at the uncovering of theirheads, removed their wide-brimmed headgear, and looked on withrespectful attention. Farther removed, a group of women, dark-eyed,dark-featured, but not unpleasant of countenance, also paused in theirmorning work to watch the newcomers with respectful admiration ratherthan curiosity. Evidently these people understood and shared withthese strangers from a far-away land this spirit of national pride andpatriotism, for true patriots always revere the memory of heroes.

  "Isn't it strange Washington should be given a statue here?" askedHarrie.

  "Not so very strange," replied Jack, "when you come to think that thehistories of the two countries are so nearly alike, up to the day ofthese two heroes, they might be written by the same historian withslight modifications. Bolivar was the Washington of Venezuela. Then,too, you will remember that Miranda, the pioneer of patriots in thiscountry, served his apprenticeship under Washington, fighting for ourcountry. When he had finished there he returned to his native land totake up her battles. What he learned with our army helped him here.

  "Bolivar had no small task on his hand when he undertook to free fiverepublics, and who conquered a territory nearly half as great as Europe.

  "It is a common practice for the inhabitants here to strew theirgarlands of flowers about this place, and once I remember, upon aholiday, coming here, to find the statue of Washington, pedestal andbase, literally decked with floral wreaths. Never, it seemed to me,not even in our own land, did the noble countenance of Washington lookgrander than here, surrounded by a race that did not speak hislanguage, but whose hearts beat as patriotically, as if they understoodevery word."

  "It was a happy thought that they should have sculptured him as a manof peace rather than of war," said Ronie. "It is more happy in itseffect, as I look upon him, than the warlike figure of Bolivar."

  "Very true; at least, from our standpoint. While they did well toselect this phase of his character, no doubt it thrills their hot veinsmore to look on the defiant form of their beloved leader. What I havesaid of the two men was truth, but similarity stops there. Bolivar hadvery much of the savage wildness about him, and he was reckless,headstrong, and sometimes foolhardy. But his career was a grand one,as viewed by his countrymen. It was filled with bold, cunning,victorious marches. His Valley Forge was the torrid jungles andsun-swept plains of a tropical clime; his Delaware, filled withfloating ice, to be crossed in mid-winter, the broken mountain pass, orthe pathless swamp filled with deadly malaria. Like our Washington, hecame of a distinguished family, and he was educated in Europe for thecourt and camp. But, if educated abroad, his love for his native landnever failed, and Venezuela never had a truer son, or a more valiantfighter for her natural rights.

  "Ay, lads, his campaigns were filled with such stupendous feats ofactivity and accomplishment as few have ever equaled. Starting on theseacoast near Pallao, with his foot soldiers and rude cavalry mountedon mule back, he crossed the continent. The perils ofmountain-climbing and the hardships of the jungle were met and overcomeby his indomitable followers, inspired by his glowing example, livingmuch of the time on berries and roots, sleeping at night upon theground, to free in turn Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador and Bolivia; then,sweeping down the Pacific coast, to finally overthrow the empire ofPeru. He was a young man filled with the love of freedom and the fireof ambition. So little was his heroism appreciated by those whom hethus met that time and again he was forced to meet the assassin, onlyto find himself deserted at last by those whom he had looked upon andrewarded as friends. So he died alone, of heartaches over theingratitude of a people he had led out of bondage. But to-day tardyjustice makes him, as he deserved to be, the hero of five republics."

  "Why should his countrymen, after all he had done for them, strip himof his honors and leave him forlorn and disappointed?" asked Ronie.

  "It was owing largely to the inborn fickleness of people of a tropicalclime. Two charges, one directly opposed to the other, were broughtagainst him. One party claimed, after having rid them of kings, hetried to make a dictator of himself, with power more absolute than thatof those he had deposed. The other said it was because, upon hisfollowers asking him to accept such power, he declined and went intovoluntary exile at Santa Marta. Be that as it may, it was nearlytwenty years after his death before there was one bold enough to givehim the place in public opinion that he deserved. He caused an artistto design a statue that should perpetuate his memory.

  "Now we come to see how closely the history of this country is blendedwith our own. On the neck of the statue the artist placed a miniaturein the form of a medallion which the family of Washington had givenBolivar. On the reverse of this was a lock of Washington's hair, withthe inscription:

  "'This portrait of the founder of liberty in North America is presentedby his adopted son to him who has acquired equal glory in SouthAmerica.'

  "You will notice that none of the insignias of honors showered upon himin his hours of triumph by different countries have been retained bythe artist, this portrait of the Father of Our Country having been theonly ornament it was deemed he would have cared for, as in life he wasp
rouder of this than all else. So you see, the busts and statues ofthe Liberator bear only this tribute, while those of his followers aredecked with glittering ornaments."

  "I have read of a very pretty story connected with its presentation,"said Harrie. "It was during the time of Lafayette's visit to ourcountry in 1824. A banquet was given in his honor and the memory ofWashington by Congress. In the midst of the rejoicings and tributespaid to the venerable visitor, Henry Clay arose to say that, while theywere enjoying the fruits of independence, the grand institutionsfounded by their patriotic forefathers, there were those in theSouthern continent who were fighting as valiantly for liberty, withless hope of ultimate victory. Continuing to wax eloquent, the greatorator said:

  "'No nation, no generous Lafayette, has come to their succor; alone,and without aid, they have sustained their glorious cause, trusting toits justice, and with the assistance only of their bravery, theirdeserts and their Andes--and one man, Simon Bolivar, the Washington ofSouth America.'

  "There was wild cheering then, while men sprang to their feet andclapped their hands. Then Lafayette, the generous, asked that he mightsend the Southern hero some token of their sympathy and appreciation ofhis valor. The result was, Lafayette sent Bolivar the portrait ofWashington, and it proved a gift the young patriot of the Southlandrevered, while his people grew to admire and cherish it."

  "True, my lad, and this spirit has spread so that you will see picturesof Washington wherever you go. Now it is a portrait; then the Americanarmy crossing the wintry Delaware, under its beloved leader; or, thewar over and victory's mantle of peace spread over the land, he standsbefore the door at Mount Vernon. You find squares and public housesnamed after Washington, with numerous other testimonials of him, all ofwhich seems very pretty to the visitor from the North."

  While Jack had been speaking, his gaze had become turned in an oppositedirection to where the figure of a man was to be seen skulking in thethicket of flowers. Harrie and Ronie had already discovered thesuspicious person, but had understood that he would flee at theslightest indication that he had been seen. Thus, before Jack hadfinished his speech, Ronie began to retrace his steps, with apparentcarelessness, in the direction of a row of yellow, blue and pinkhouses, with high, barred windows, from which peeped shyly dark-eyed,swarthy-skinned women. But the moment he had passed beyond the rangeof the concealed man's eyes, he darted into the shrubbery so as tointercept the man should he try to escape by flight.

  The wisdom of this action was apparent when Jack and Harrie startedtoward the spot, when he fled precipitately. This flight, however,took him right into the path of Ronie, who quickly covered him with hispistol, at the same time ordering him to stop, which he did withtrembling limbs, to begin to beg for his life.

  A good square look at him revealed his identity to Ronie, who exclaimedto his companions:

  "Come quick, boys! it is the spy, Manuel Marlin!"