A Volunteer with Pike Part 17

"And he has returned!" I muttered.

"In April. By now he is fitting out this present expedition."

I rose and bowed. "Such being the case, Your Excellency, permit me to wish you good-day."

"One moment," he said, leaning toward me, with a leer which doubtless he meant for an ingratiating glance. "Has your ambition so narrow a range, doctor?"

"My ambition?" I inquired.

"Your ambition and your interest in the projects of one who shall at present go unnamed. I must read and consider what the gentleman has written to me. Whatever my decision as to--those matters, I cannot give you what you have asked; but--you will understand--there may be possibilities--vast possibilities!--a vast Empire, stretching westward from the Alleghanies--"

"Alleghanies!" I cried, astounded.

At sight of my face, his own turned a mottled gray. He caught at the whiskey bottle and poured himself out a second drink. Fortified by the draught, he gasped something about an attack of bilious fever, and added, with a crafty smile: "You, sir, as a physician, know how this cursed malaria flies to the head. I have the word Arkansas on my tongue, yet say Alleghany."

The explanation at once allayed the terrible suspicion which had flashed into my mind. It was common knowledge throughout the West that this man had been involved with Innes and other conspirators of the separatist plots in the nineties. But that he or Colonel Burr or any other man not insane could dream of such treason to the Republic in these days was a thought seemingly so preposterous that it needed only the pompous old fellow's word of explanation to make me banish the suspicion. Yet I realized that I had had quite enough of his company.

"Sir," I said, "my interest in the affairs of Colonel Burr hinged entirely upon this question of the expedition. Since the honor of its leadership has fallen to my friend Lieutenant Pike, I have nothing to ask of you."

"You will remain in Natchez a day or two?" he inquired.

"I cannot say."

"It might prove to your interest to delay over. I may again send for you, notwithstanding your reluctance to receive other favors than the one I cannot grant."

I bowed and withdrew, leaving him in the act of pouring a third drink of whiskey.

CHAPTER XII

AU REVOIR

It was not with a light heart that I returned to Mickie's Hotel. I had made my cast, and fortune was against me. In the afternoon I had left Alisanda smiling down upon me from the balcony of her inn window; I was returning at nightfall to meet--Senorita Vallois. Though to the last she and Don Pedro might hold to the familiar "Juan," how little might even her smiles lighten the shadow of a hopeless parting!

As I entered the inn door, Mickie bustled forward to inform me, with an air of vast importance, that at the request of the Spanish grandee, he had arranged to serve the evening meal to the senor's party above stairs. When he added that a plate was to be laid for myself, I hastened to my own room for a change of linen.

My heart was too heavy for me to linger over foppish details of dress.

It was not long before I found myself at the door of the room set apart for the private dining-parlor. Chita, who was overlooking the spreading of the cloth by the negro attendants of the inn, conducted me through to the balcony, where I found the don indolently puffing at his _cigarro_.

Before I could take the seat to which he waved me, Alisanda floated out into the moonlight from the window behind him. She was a vision all heavenly white but for her scarlet lips and sombre eyes and brows. Even the soft tresses of her hair were hidden beneath the gauzy white drape of tulle and lace which took the place of her black mantilla.

"_Buenas noches_, Juan," she greeted me, in a tone of liquid silver.

"G.o.d be with you, Alisanda!" I responded.

"Be seated, _amigo_," urged Don Pedro. "You have a weary look."

"I bring what to me is heavy news," I replied.

"You had in mind to ask a favor of General Wilkinson," said Alisanda.

"You have asked the favor, and--he has refused it?"

The note of sympathy in her voice soothed my despairing anger. I did not stop to wonder at the intuition by which she had divined the object of my visit to the General. It was enough for me that she had perceived my heaviness, and held out to me her sympathy.

"It is true," I said, and in a few words I told them of my shattered plans,--how I had hoped to gain fame by leading an expedition of exploration to the West, as Lewis and Clark were exploring the Northwest, and as my friend Pike had explored the headwaters of the Mississippi; and how the statements of Colonel Burr had led me to hope for still greater fame as a sharer in the freeing of Mexico.

Don Pedro leaned toward me, his eyes glowing with friendly fire. "_Por Dios!_ Your one thought was to help us break the yoke! You would give your life for the winning of liberty!"

I looked across at Alisanda, and the soft loveliness of her beauty in the moonlight filled me to overflowing with the bitterness of my blasted hopes.

"Do not think me so n.o.ble!" I replied. "I thought to fight for the freedom of your country, but it was in hope of a reward a thousandfold greater than my service!"

Alisanda raised her fan and gazed at me above its fluted edge with widened eyes,--I feared in resentful wonder at my audacity. But Don Pedro was too intent upon his own thoughts to perceive the meaning of my words.

"_Por Dios!_" he protested. "Those who have risen against Spanish oppression have ever met with short shrift. Shall not they who brave death in our cause look for glorious reward in the hour of victory?"

"That is true of those who may be blessed with the chance to join your ranks. As for me, the opportunity which I had thought to be golden has turned to ashes in my grasp."

"_Sabe Dios!_" murmured Alisanda in so soft a tone that the words came to me like a whisper of the evening breeze. Was it possible that after all I still had cause for hope?

Chita's voice, drawling the usual Spanish phrase, summoned us to the table. We rose, and Alisanda accepted my arm with a queenly graciousness of manner which in the same moment thrilled and disheartened me. I read it to mean that she was in a kindly mood, but that the kindliness was due to the condescension of Senorita Vallois, and not to the frank companionship of my fellow-traveller Alisanda. This surmise was borne out by her manner at table, where she rallied her uncle and myself upon our gravity, and with subtle skill, confined the talk to the lightest of topics. The Don was as abstemious as most of his countrymen, and Mickie's wine was a libel on the name, yet he soon mellowed to the gay chit-chat of his niece.

It was beyond me to enter into this spirit of merriment. I forced myself to smile outwardly and to meet their lively quips and sallies with such nimbleness of wit as I possessed. But it went no deeper than show on my part. The longer we sat, the heavier grew my heart. I had no joy of my food. Even the peaches and the other fruits of the lower river tasted bitter in my mouth. For with each fresh turn of the conversation I saw my Alisanda slipping farther away from me, her kindly glance giving place to the haughty gaze of the Spanish lady of blood, her familiar address cooling to stately condescension. I was no longer "Juan," but "doctor" and "senor," and, near the end, "Doctor Robinson."

We had come to the sweetmeats, and I noted with despair that she was on the point of withdrawing. She had even thrust back her chair to rise, when, with scant ceremony, a young soldier in uniform entered and stated that His Excellency, General Wilkinson, desired the immediate presence of Senor Vallois.

"_Carambo!_" exclaimed Don Pedro, looking regretfully at the sweetmeats.

"He might have chosen a fitter time! It is in my mind to wait."

"Is not your business with him the affair of others no less than your own?" murmured Alisanda.

"_Santisima Virgen!_ You do well to remind me! Juan, with your permission--"

"_Adios!_ Good fortune to you!" I cried, as he rose.

Another moment and he and the soldier had left the room. I was alone with Alisanda. She rose, with a trace of inquietude beneath her calm hauteur. I moved around the table to join her.

"Spare yourself the trouble," she said, with repellent sharpness. "It is unkind to take a man of English blood from his wine."

"Senorita," I answered, "since we came in to table, you have told me all too plainly that you no longer wish to conform to the customs of the country. I do not wonder. Our voyage as fellow-travellers is at an end.

There is no longer need for such slight service as I was able to render--"

"Service?" she repeated, with a curl of her scarlet lip.

Though cut to the quick, I could not give over.