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The Dust of Conflict Part 39

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

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, but the set faces were resolutely turned upon him, and now the brown fingers were convulsively tightening on the rifles. The tumult was growing louder, and shouts of "Libertad!" and "Viva la revolucion!" came out of the 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 hoa.r.s.ely. "With ten of the Sin Verguenza I'd take Santa Marta now."

It was not altogether an empty boast. The Iberian is impulsive and unstable, and a word spoken in season will stir to any rashness a Latin crowd. The troops were disaffected, part of them, at least, openly mutinous, but Morales the Sword could grapple with a crisis. He was in the saddle in a moment, his voice rang clear and commanding above the tumult, and the men who wavered, uncertain what course to take, obeyed.

The ranks wheeled, broke up, and grouped again in fours, the bugles rang shrilly, there was a roll of drums, and almost before Appleby quite realized what was happening the head of the leading company was filing out of the plaza, and Morales' swift decision had saved the situation.



Then a man touched Appleby's shoulder, and he and Harper and another man stepped into an opening between the files.

"You are to be felicitated. There are few who offend Morales he does not crush," said the sergeant of the guard.

Appleby made no answer. He was a trifle dazed, and his thoughts were in a whirl, but he noticed vacantly that there was a curious portentous silence as the troops marched back to the cuartel, and was glad when they 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, of course, no one could have guessed," he said.

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

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

Appleby had felt much the same anger, but he was calmer now. What he had witnessed had filled him with horror, and while he could have blamed Morales 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 of death 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 abruptly with 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. I wonder 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 threw him.

XXV - MORALES SITS STILL

IT was late at night when Appleby, who felt no inclination for sleep, looked out into the soft darkness from a window of the cuartel where he had now pa.s.sed six anxious days Here and there a light blinked dimly in the gulf of blacker shadow that marked the narrow street beneath him, for there was no moon that night, and the steamy dampness the faint warm wind drove before it obscured the stars. A hot, musky smell rose from the silent town.

Still, Appleby, who had keen eyes, fancied he had seen a shadowy form pa.s.s twice beneath the nearest light, and then turn as though looking up at the cuartel, and he called Harper softly when it appeared again.

"Can you make out that man?" he said. "This is the third time I have seen him. It is noticeable that he shows himself just under the lamp."

"Well," said Harper reflectively, "I guess you wouldn't have seen him anywhere else."

The shadowy form slipped away into the obscurity, and there was silence for at least five minutes while the pair stood very still, wondering with a vague sense of expectation what it meant, until Appleby said sharply, "There he is again."

"No," said Harper. "That's another one. He's taller, and, so far as I can make out, dressed quite different. Still, he's looking up. It seems to me he means us or somebody else to see him."

Appleby felt his heart throb, and his voice was not quite steady as he said, "Morales has, at least, a half-company in the cuartel."

"Well," said Harper, "I don't quite know. He sent most of the Barremedas away-though there's a section or two here still. They are the men that showed signs of kicking in the plaza, and it's quite likely he figures they'd be safer with Vincente's Peninsular battalion. Then counting up the pickets, outposts, and patrols he'll have on the carretera, there'll scarcely be forty men in this barracks now."

Appleby nodded. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "I have been wondering why nothing has apparently happened to the section which ordered arms.

Morales is not the man to let a thing of that kind pa.s.s."

Harper was quite aware that his comrade had little interest in the question, and surmised that he desired to conceal the fact that the appearance of the man below had stirred him to a state of tense expectancy.

"No," he said. "Still, I guess he has quite a good reason for holding his hand, and those cazadores will be sorry for themselves when he's through with them. He'll keep them wondering where he's going to hit them until it grinds all the grit out of them, and then start in."

He stopped somewhat abruptly at the sound of feet on the stairway, and had his hand on the lattice when a soldier came in. It was evident that he noticed the half-closed window, and he looked at them curiously.

"The Colonel Morales sends for you," he said, and though there was apparently n.o.body within hearing dropped his voice a little. "If he asks you questions let him wait for your answer. It is necessary that you should keep him talking at least ten minutes."

Appleby felt a little quiver run through him, and saw that Harper's face had grown suddenly intent.

"Why?" he asked.

The man made a little gesture expressive of indecision. "The guard is changed then-and who knows what may happen? The men who come on duty are my comrades of the Barremedas-and they are afraid. This Morales is most terrible in his quietness. There is also below a merchant of tobacco."

Appleby saw the sudden sparkle in Harper's eyes, but he put a strong constraint upon himself, for he dared not hope too much. He knew Maccario's daring, but it was difficult to believe that he would venture into the cuartel where there were men who could scarcely fail to recognize him. Still, he remembered the signs of disaffection among the troops, and that Cuba was steeped in intrigue.

"We are ready," he said very quietly.

The soldier signed to them, and they followed him-down the outer stairway, and up another, along a corridor where two guards were stationed, and into a room where their guide, who raised his hand and swung round, left them. The room was small, with one lattice in it that apparently opened on to the street and not the patio, and Morales sat alone, with his sword and kepi on the table before him, which was littered with papers. He looked up with expressionless eyes, and then while they stood quivering a little with suspense went on writing for the s.p.a.ce of four minutes by the clock behind him. Appleby, who understood his purpose, felt that this would count for a good deal if ever there was a reckoning between them, but seeing the flush of pa.s.sion in Harper's lean face he once more put a grim constraint upon himself.

Knowing the Castilian temperament he also fancied that at this game he could hold his own with Morales. At last the soldier shook a little sand over what he had written, and carefully cleaned his pen before he turned to them.

"It seemed to me you might have concluded that the decision you made was a trifle hasty, Senor Appleby," he said.

"You gave me no opportunity of changing it," said Appleby as quietly as he could, though he realized that his voice was not quite his usual one.

"In any case I do not see what I gain. We are under sentence, and one has usually a motive for what he does in Cuba."

Morales glanced at him steadily with keen dark eyes, and Appleby wondered whether he had a.s.sumed too great an eagerness by suggesting that he might be willing to treat with a man who had hitherto found him obdurate. Then the officer smiled.

"It is evident that the man who pa.s.sed the sentence could commute it,"

he said.

Appleby appeared to reflect. He did not know what was going on below, but he desired at least to hold Morales' attention until the change of the guard.

"Of course!" he said. "Still, he had apparently no intention of doing so. It seems to me we are under no obligation to Colonel Morales in one respect."

"No?" and Morales' smile was sardonic.

Appleby shook his head. "I fancy that we owe rather more to certain disaffected cazadores," he said. "That little display was, of course, unexpected."

He saw the dark eyes flash, but next moment the officer's face was once more expressionless.

"One cannot foresee everything, but I think there will not be another display of the kind," he said. "Well, I will make an admission. Would it astonish you to hear that, in spite of the sentence, it was not intended that you should face the firing party?"

Appleby, who heard a soft crunching under his comrade's foot, glanced at him warningly. Harper's eyes were glowing, and the fingers of one hand were tightly clenched, but meeting Appleby's gaze he controlled himself.

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