The Free Rangers Part 32

Alonzo Menocal arose from his chair and came across the room. Paul's hand moved to the b.u.t.t of the pistol in his belt, but the intentions of the West Indian were not hostile.

"Thou hast conquered," he said to Henry in his queer thee- and thou-English. "Thou art not only the taller and the larger, but also the stronger and the more skillful. It is the first time that Alonzo Menocal was ever picked up, carried across a room, and put down in his chair, as a mother puts her baby to bed."

He put out his hand in quite an American fas.h.i.+on, and Henry shook it, glad that the man was good-natured. More applause greeted this act of friends.h.i.+p by the two and, taking advantage of it, the five went out, accompanied by Lieutenant Bernal, all in great good humor.

Night was coming on, and they felt that it was time to return to "The Galleon." A man was already lighting the smoking oil lamps that hung from the wooden arms of the posts, and from one of the forts a sentinel was calling the hour.

New Orleans looked better under the softening hue of the twilight. Many of the asperities that go as a matter of course with newness were hidden, but the smells remained.

"Wish I could sleep in the woods to-night, with nuthin' but trees runnin'

away at least ten miles in every direction," said Long Jim.

"It will be all right in our boat on the river," said Paul.

"I think I shall go with you as far as your boat," said Lieutenant Bernal.

"You're welcome. Come on," said Henry, confident of his friends.h.i.+p.

The five and the lieutenant walked swiftly toward the Mississippi.

CHAPTER XV

BEFORE BERNARDO GALVEZ

It took only a few minutes to reach the banks of the stream, and they saw at once that an event was occurring. New Orleans could rejoice, if she choose, in honor of an important arrival.

A fleet of a dozen large boats swung from the middle of the stream and made for the levee. In the boats were men in uniform.

"I have an impression, though my impressions are often wrong and my memory always weak, that yonder cavalier who sits haughtily in the boat as if he were sole proprietor of the Mississippi, is your good friend, Don Francisco Alvarez," said Lieutenant Bernal in his mincing way.

They had all recognized Alvarez, and they expected quick trouble. As it was bound to come they had no objection to its coming at once. The boat of Alvarez made the landing and as he sprang out he was followed by Braxton Wyatt, also in the uniform of a Spanish officer. The eyes of the Captain instantly caught sight of "The Galleon," then of the five, and then of Lieutenant Diego Bernal standing near the Americans.

"Men," he cried to some of his soldiers who had landed. "Seize this boat at once! It is my property, taken from me by these American thieves!"

The soldiers moved to obey, but the little Catalan, Lieutenant Diego Bernal stepped forward. Never was he more mincing, and it is likely that he never felt more satisfaction than he did now at the role that he was about to play.

"Gently! Gently! my good captain," he said. "I am a port officer and boats cannot be seized at will in His Most Catholic Majesty's city of New Orleans."

His manner stung Alvarez, who replied hotly:

"I repeat, it is my boat! It was stolen from me by these thieves from Kaintock!"

"But that must be proved," and the lieutenant's voice was very soft and silky. "The law is still administered in the City of New Orleans. And let me a.s.sure you, my good captain, that the matter of the boat is a trifle.

What really concerns is your delay in coming to New Orleans with your American captives, whom you held at your place of Beaulieu. His Excellency, the Governor General, Don Bernardo Galvez, is very much afraid that you have involved Spain in serious difficulties with a friendly people."

Alvarez looked fiercely at Bernal. How much did this man know? But the little lieutenant merely stroked his mustache, and his face was expressionless.

"If explanations are due," said Alvarez, "I shall make them to Don Bernardo."

"Very good! very good!" murmured the lieutenant. "I am quite sure that Don Bernardo will be greatly pleased."

Alvarez turned angrily, gave some orders to his men, and then stalked away followed by Wyatt and two others. The renegade had never spoken a word, but he and the five had exchanged some threatening glances.

Alvarez and Bernal had spoken in Spanish, but Henry and the others surmised the import of their words. They knew, too, by the manner of Alvarez that the little triumph had been with Bernal.

"He wanted the boat, did he not?" said Henry.

"Yes," replied the lieutenant, "but you can sleep in it to-night. I warn you, however, to see Bernardo Galvez in the morning as soon as you can.

After all, you are Americans and foreigners, while Alvarez is a Spaniard and one of us. You will have much to overcome."

They perceived the truth of his suggestion and thanked him. He gave them a friendly good night and went away. The five went on board "The Galleon"

and prepared for sleep, having dismissed their watchman with ample pay.

As the boat was securely tied there was no need to keep a watch and all prepared for the night. But they did not go to sleep yet, although they did not talk, every one being occupied with his own thoughts.

Paul sat at the stern of the boat leaning against the side, and his eyes were on New Orleans, where he saw the formless shapes of buildings and twinkling lights here and there. The city, in a way, attracted him and, in another way, it repelled him. It interested him, but he had no desire to live there. It was a port, a gate, as it were, opening into the vast old world, to which belonged the centuries, and of which he had read and thought so much, but the single taste of it turned Paul's heart with a stronger affection than ever toward the New World to which he belonged.

The great forests of the north seemed clean and fresh to him as they had seemed to Jim. There, at least, a man could know who were his friends and who were his enemies.

He saw boats pa.s.sing on the turbid, brown current of the Mississippi and he heard s.n.a.t.c.hes of strange, foreign songs. The night had fully come and heavy darkness hung over land and water, but New Orleans did not sleep.

The smugglers, the adventurers, the former galley slaves, the riff-raff of Europe, and the mixed bloods of the West Indies were abroad in pursuit of either business or pleasure, each equally favored by the dusk.

s.h.i.+f'less Sol and Long Jim were already asleep, but Paul was restless and slumber would not come. Henry, too, was wakeful, and Paul at last suggested that they walk in the city. Henry accepted, and with a word to Tom Ross they sprang ash.o.r.e.

New Orleans was even more interesting to them by night than by day, as it had now a peculiarly uncanny look added to its other qualities. The night was close, heavy, and warm, and the brown current of the river showed but dismally through it. Lights were still moving on the Mississippi, but the boats that bore them were invisible. From the side of the river pleasant odors came to their nostrils, the clean, sweet scents of vast, undefiled woods and prairies, the flavor of a wind blowing over wild flowers, but from the side of the city the smells were as variegated and repellent as ever.

Nevertheless the two youths turned into the city, lit faintly by the flaring oil lanterns, and walked along through one street and another seeing what they could see. The night life was active and much of it was sodden. Oaths played a great part in the talk they heard and intoxication was a prevalent note. Sounds of strife, either without or within, arose now and then, but Henry and Paul, wis.h.i.+ng to keep clear of all trouble, never stayed to see the result. They more than suspected that knives shone too often in these orgies.

They stopped a few moments by the old church in front of the Place d'Armes. The church was flanked on one side by a low brick building, very white with roof of red and yellow tiles, while to the left of the church stood a villa-like house half hidden among the trees. They admired the effect of the moonlight on the tiles, and then, pa.s.sing through the wooden fence that enclosed it, they entered the deserted Place d'Armes.

"I can breathe better here," said Henry. "I know that I shall never be fond of towns."

But the imaginative Paul shuddered.

"Look," he said, "the gallows!"

He pointed to the huge gallows that stood in the Place d'Armes, ready for frequent use. The moonlight had now grown dim. In its wavering beams the gallows rose to immense proportions and seemed also to take on the semblance of life. It reached out its long wooden arm as if to grasp Paul and with another shudder he turned his back to it.

The two continued down one side of the Place d'Armes in the shade of magnolias and cypresses that drooped over the wooden fence. As they pa.s.sed they heard the sound of a shot.

"Somebody in the city fighting with a rifle or pistol instead of a knife,"

said Paul.

But Henry stood motionless and silent for a moment or two. He had distinctly felt the rush of air on his face as a bullet pa.s.sed by. He was seeking to see whence the shot had come and he thought he caught a glimpse of a figure among the cypresses.

"No, Paul," he exclaimed, "that shot was aimed at me!"