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Arlington's heart leapt within him. "Brother?" he stammered. "Captain Danvers your brother?"
"He is my half brother."
Danvers laughed out. Putting his arm around Evaleen, he said, "Mr.
Arlington, if you are still disposed to fight me, we may meet when you please. But I am of the opinion you will learn from Evaleen that you have more cause to cherish hard feelings against the man you champion than against me."
"At any rate," said Arlington, as the two shook hands, "whatever you may think concerning Colonel Burr, this is not the place nor time for quarrelling. You have the Spaniards to fight--I must fight a rash temper."
Lucrece, pale and sad-eyed, was leaning upon her father's shoulder.
Evaleen hastened to her, and the doctor went up to Arlington to pour out endless thanks.
"Are you sick, Lucrece? Shall we go to the boat?"
"Sick, sick at heart."
"There is a way to cure that."
"No, my Evaleen, there is no cure. But you shall it all forgive. How could I know? You say you sometime tell me the story I read, alas, too late."
"Story? What story?"
"Ah, my sweet friend--pardon me--pity Lucrece. _Mon soldat--mon capitaine_, you love heem--he love you--how shall we not hate us?"
The captain made bold to approach the ladies. When his eyes met those of Lucrece, Evaleen interpreted the silent language exchanged.
"Lucrece, your soldier is my brother, you jealous little tigress!
But," she added in a whisper, "don't let him kiss you again."
Danvers, without delay, gave directions for all to embark, and himself conducted Lucrece and her jubilant father on board.
Arlington, escorting the Lady of the Violets, asked her, in an undertone, "Did you get my last letter from Virginia?"
"Yes," answered Evaleen. "Did you receive mine, in which I explained the mistakes of Byle?"
"No; I did not get such a letter. Tell me all the contents."
"That will require time."
"Did you answer my--my question?"
"Wait until you see the letter."
"I don't think I can wait."
"Then until we can talk on the boat."
Danvers proposed to take the crew and pa.s.sengers of the wrecked barge Buckeye aboard his transport and carry them as far south as Natchez, where a family boat could be procured for the continuance of their voyage to New Orleans. Arlington, of course, was accommodated; also his faithful horse, Jetty, which had followed him down the margin of the bayou. The understanding was that Winslow should conduct the doctor and the ladies from Natchez to New Orleans, leaving Danvers free to march his troops to Natchitoches, while Arlington remained in Natchez to transact the business intrusted to him by Burr.
The transport was soon afloat. Monsieur Deville, quickly recovering his habitual gaiety, chirruped:
"Have I not said, Mees Hale, to your father that hees gairl sall be safe as ze baby in ze cradle? Have I not keep my word? Ze leetle blow of ze wind, it is all ovair. What we care now for ze boat-wreckair, ze bad robbair? _Voila!_ have we not brush away ze mosquito? But say to me, my daughter's dear friend, am I myself Eloy Deville? Ze Captain Danvers, is he a lunatic?"
"No, doctor, not a lunatic, but a lover. My brother and your daughter have been sweethearts for many moons."
"Now I am sure you also, Mees Hale, have lost your head. You also are in ze delirium."
Danvers, attempting to ingratiate himself with pere Eloy, was called away by an occurrence which caused him chagrin. The sentinel to whom was a.s.signed the duty of keeping watch over Palafox was not sufficiently vigilant to foil his cunning. The amphibious athlete managing deftly to loosen the cords which bound his wrists, slipped like an eel from the boat into the river, and, diving deep, swam awhile under water, then on the surface, and finally reached the eastern sh.o.r.e of the Mississippi, a few miles south of the point at which the boat had landed. Long, toilsome, exhausting, was his return tramp toward the sole haunt in which he could expect sympathy or command protection. He did not rely on honor among thieves, but he had confidence in Mex, who was bound to him, he believed, by two strong ties, love and fear.
Night had fallen before Palafox reached the southern edge of the bayou at the point opposite his only house and home, and it was pitchy dark, when, having swam across the stagnant channel, he trudged, wet and weary, to the barred door of Cacosotte's Tavern, and knocked. Mex undid the bolts and let her master in, her sagacious eyes swiftly taking note of his bodily plight and desperate mood. To her demonstration of savage tenderness he returned a ferocious growl, and shoved her from him roughly.
"Fetch me the brandy, quick! Don't you see I'm drowned?"
He swallowed at a gulp the potation she poured out, and stepping into a dark recess christened "The Captain's Corner," where hung various stolen articles of men's apparel, he exchanged his soaked garments for dry ones.
Meanwhile, Mex sullenly placed upon a table such food as her cupboard could supply. Palafox emerged, mollified in temper, but still irascible. In his hand he held the long leathern pocket-book containing the alleged evidence of Wilkinson's complicity with the Spanish government. It was creased and dripping, and before eating he opened it, carefully took out the papers, and spread them on the counter of the bar to dry.
"You wouldn't guess there might be a fortune in these, would you, Blackey?"
"_Not_ Blackey! No negar-wool!" She shook her long black hair, and her blacker eyes glittered. "No Mexicano, no red squaw--your woman."
Palafox was wont to amuse himself by provoking the pride and jealousy of this caged creature of untamed affections.
"Where is Sott? Did he come home? He ought to be burnt alive for letting my game escape. Where is he?"
Mex, standing behind her lord and watching him as he ate and drank, explained that Nine Eyes had been badly hurt in a fight with one of the band; a bullet had shivered the bones of his arm; the sufferer had groaned and howled, but she soothed him, she said, by a charm, and he at last slept.
Sott's nondescript nurse had in fact, administered an opiate. In addition to the arts of the hoodoo and medicine man, she possessed unusual knowledge of the virtue of wild plants, including those of dangerous quality. There was never race or tribe so primitive as to be ignorant of deadly herbs. This scarcely half-civilized daughter of miscegenation was a Hecate in the skilful decoction of potent leaves, roots and berries.
"You _charmed_ him to sleep?" sneered Palafox, glancing back threateningly, and speaking in Spanish. "Be careful who you charm.
Best not be coddling Nine Eyes, or any other man, while I'm livin'.
Bring another bottle. You could have kept those girls here for me, if you'd tried. You allowed that strutting dandy to carry them off before your eyes. This makes the second time he got away from me. The third time is the charm. Not your kind of charm, Mex, but one that acts quicker."
"What charm?" asked Mex, who had gone behind the bar, and was busy with bottles and cups. She decanted some drops into a flask.
"What charm! Copper-cheeks! You don't recollect how I dosed Pepillo that night!"
"Yes, that night me save your life. Me your wife then! Me kill dandy?"
Palafox chuckled at the question.
"No, senora, no. I'll do that part of the business, and you see after the charming. You might have captivated the dandy for all I care, and kept him to yourself. It isn't him I want. I want her. And I'll have her yet. I've set my heart on getting ahold of that woman."
The hand of Mex could not have been steady; she let fall something that broke like gla.s.s.
"What are you spilling, there? Don't break my bottles. Bring me more drink."
Mex started up confusedly from behind the bar, brought a flagon, sat down on the bench beside Palafox, and looked into his face. A furious resentment was raging in her heart.
Palafox enjoyed his temporary wife's manifestations of jealousy. He laughed, took a deep draught from the flagon, and said: