Chapter IX. Paul and the Spaniard

The Free Rangers

by Joseph A. Altsheler

Francisco Alvarez never suffered from the vice of humility. While
he was planning to make himself Governor General of Louisiana he
thought also that the selection was a most admirable one. Nor would
he have condescended now to cross a blade with this boy from the
backwoods, but his pride had been bitterly hurt by the deeds of Paul
and his comrades. Such presumption must be punished, and the
punishment must be of a humiliating kind.

The Spaniard took the point of his sword between his thumb and
forefinger and bent the blade a little. The steel was flexible and
true. Then he put himself on guard, and physically he was a splendid
figure of a man, tall, compact, and obviously skilled with his
weapon.

Long Jim Hart writhed again in his bonds. His heart yearned
over Paul, his young comrade.

Stop it! stop it! he cried. "It's murder, I say, fur a man used
to them weepins to set upon a boy."

"Shall we gag this fellow, Captain?" asked Braxton Wyatt, who
enjoyed the scene.

"No," replied Alvarez, scornfully. "Let him make as much noise
as he pleases."

Paul heard Long Jim's second protest, but now he did not answer.
He was intently watching Alvarez. He had read the look in the eye
of the Spanish leader, and he knew that Alvarez not only intended to
punish him, but also to make that process as mortifying as possible.
But Paul was yet unafraid. Although not as large and powerful as
Henry, he was nevertheless a very strong youth, used to the open air
and exercise, and wonderfully flexible and alert. He held the sword
lightly but firmly with the point well forward, ready for any
movement by his antagonist.

Alvarez came a step nearer. His sword flashed, but Paul
dexterously caught the stroke upon his own weapon, and the blade
glanced off, ringing. Alvarez was surprised. He had seen from
Paul's position and the manner in which he held his weapon that he
knew something about the sword, but he was not prepared for such a
skillful parry.

"Good, Paul! Good!" cried Long Jim, a sudden hope bounding up in
his heart. "Go in! Trim him! Slice off his mustache for him!"

Alvarez was stung by the taunt. Braxton Wyatt made an angry
movement toward Long Jim, but the Spaniard again waved him back. His
own pride would not permit him to silence the taunter in such a way.
No, he would silence him in another manner. But the cry of Long Jim
had its effect upon Paul, too. It aroused him to a supreme effort.
He leaped forward suddenly, thrust quick as lightning, and then
leaped away. The Spaniard had parried, but the blade nevertheless
cut the cloth of his brilliant coat, making a long gash. The cut was
not in the flesh, only in the cloth, but Alvarez was stung by it and
the sting became the more bitter when Long Jim cried out:

"Hooray, Paul! That wuz somethin' like! He thought he wuz
goin' to murder you, but he ain't!"

Alvarez, furious, rushed in and Paul, keen of eye and alert of
muscle, fought on the defensive. Lucky for him now that he
remembered all the lessons taught to him by the old soldier of the
great French and Indian war, and lucky for him, too, that he had
lived such a temperate life! Steel met steel and the ringing sound
filled the little glade. The others were silent, leaning a little
forward, lips slightly apart. A new element of uncertainty had come
into the combat, and even Braxton Wyatt shared in the excitement that
had been aroused by it.

Alvarez uttered a cry of satisfaction and then stepped back.
Paul stood still while the blood came slowly from a cut across his
left arm and dyed his sleeve. He had thrown out the arm just in time
to ward off a thrust at his heart, but he received a slash in its
place. The pain was considerable but Paul scarcely felt it; his mind
was too intent on the crisis, and his head was yet clear and cool.

"Never you mind, Paul! Never you mind!" cried Long Jim. "'Twas
only a lucky sweep uv his! you'll git him yet."

Paul gave his informal second a smile of confidence, for second
he was with his encouraging tongue, even though bound and helpless
otherwise.

Paul suddenly rushed in, struck swiftly, and, although the blow
was parried, he thrust again so quickly that his blade passed inside
the guard of Alvarez, pierced through his doublet, and wounded him in
the side. Mad with pain and rage Alvarez struck furiously, but Paul
caught the blow so skillfully that the Spaniard's sword broke in his
hand.

Long Jim shouted with delight.

"You've beat him, Paul! you've beat him!" he cried. "Go in now
and trim his mustache right off his face!

Braxton Wyatt struck him a blow on the cheek.

"Shut up, will you! " he cried.

Paul, sword in hand, turned away. He would not cut down an
unarmed man, and some strain of chivalry hidden beneath the
Spaniard's ambition and cruelty recognized the boy's nobility. He
stepped aside and rebuked Braxton Wyatt for striking Long Jim. Then
he took off his doublet and one of the men bound up his wound, which
was painful but not at all dangerous. His heart was full of rage and
chagrin, but he did not show either.

"You have done well with the sword," he said to Paul, "I admit
it, and I am in a position to know. But you must surrender it, and
come as my prisoner. Your sword can be no defense against the
bullets of my soldiers."

Paul yielded his weapon. It would have been folly to resist
when the soldiers stood close by, loaded guns in hand, but he felt,
nevertheless, a deep satisfaction. He had performed a deed of valor,
worthy of Shif'less Sol or Henry, and he proudly took his place by
the side of the other prisoner, Long Jim. The wound in his arm had
already stopped bleeding.

"I didn't know it was in you, Paul," whispered Long Jim, "but I
never had anything in my life do me more good. A lot uv wicked hopes
wuz disapp'inted when you give him that slash in the side, an' then
broke his sword."

"I did better than I expected," replied Paul briefly, "but the
result is not likely to endear us to Captain Alvarez."

"Ef I'd been keepin' the right kind uv a watch," said Long Jim,
"this wouldn't have happened. We could a' got 'The Gall-yun' out in
the stream an' away."

"No, Jim," replied Paul, "it was no fault of yours. Cunning was
at work. They had located us in some manner and they prepared a
surprise."

Alvarez and Braxton Wyatt went on ahead. Paul and Jim followed
in the midst of a strong guard of soldiers. The road led again
through corn and grain fields where cultivation was making a struggle
against the luxuriance of a semi-tropical wilderness, although with
small success, as yet.

A stooping figure with a hideous, feline face shambled up by the
side of Paul, and purposely struck his elbow against the wound upon
his arm. It was The Cat, but Paul, whose arms had been left unbound,
whirled, without hesitation, and struck the Natchez in the face.

The Cat staggered but he promptly drew a knife and Paul might
have been slain, but a soldier knocked the knife from the Indian's
hand and rebuked him severely. The soldier was Luiz, a Spaniard of
height and strength. He had fared badly at the hands of the five,
but his life had also been saved by one of them, and he was not
ungrateful. He did not mean that these two prisoners should be
treated any worse than the captain ordered. He compelled The Cat to
fall back, and he smiled pleasantly at Paul and Long Jim.

"I take it that we've got one friend in this crowd," said Long
Jim.

"Yes," said Paul, "and we'll need all we can get. Alvarez seems
to have a big place here, a sort of feudal estate."

It seemed to Paul that he had come into another world; the
difference between this and Kentucky was so enormous. There, in the
little settlements, every man spoke his mind and the life was all
freedom. Here, fear and suspicion abounded, there were degrees of
importance, and Alvarez was an autocrat who could make or mar as he
pleased. It was an atmosphere heavy to Paul's lungs, and, like Long
Jim, he longed for the great forests of the Ohio River country.
Behind the chateau were some low, heavy out buildings of logs, and
Paul and Long Jim were thrust into one of these, the door being
fastened behind them with a huge padlock. Alvarez detailed Luis, who
seemed to rank a little above his fellows, and three others to keep
watch and then, feeling that he held his prisoners securely, the
commander went into the chateau. But he stopped at the door and
ordered that a gold coin and as much rum as he could drink should be
given to The Cat.

"It was due to his wonderful instinct and cunning," he said,
"that we captured these fellows and recovered my boat. It was an
important achievement."

Braxton Wyatt looked with intense interest at the chateau, which
was unlike anything that he had ever seen before. It was a strange
compound of luxury and roughness. The walls were of wood, often
ill-hewn, but several pieces of beautifully-woven tapestry hung upon
them. Some of the floors were entirely bare, others were covered
partly by Eastern rugs. Carved and curved weapons of many lands
adorned the walls, and in one room were a mandolin and guitar.

Alvarez led the way to an inner court or patio, waving back all
except Braxton Wyatt. The patio was large, with little beds of
flowers in the corners, and a pool of pure, fresh water in the
center. The pool was fed by a little stream that ran from a brook
near the chateau, and it was drained by a similar stream. The patio
was enclosed by a narrow, interior veranda, and the veranda held deep
cane chairs, one of which Alvarez took, waving Braxton Wyatt to
another.

The Spanish commander with a great air of relief and luxury
leaned back in his cane chair. He loved the south and the sunshine
to which he was born, and, although bold and hardy, he had little
liking for the great, cold forests of the North. He clapped his hand
and a servant brought glasses and wine. Alvarez filled the glasses
himself and handed the first courteously to Wyatt.

"Drink," he said, "I am glad that expedition is over. The
Governor General wished me to go, to explore, to make treaties, and
to secure our title, but the wilderness, though interesting, grows
monotonous."

"It is comfortable here," said Braxton Wyatt, stretching himself
in the great cane chair. He was entirely recovered from his own
wound and he appreciated the luxury of the place.

"Yes, it is indeed grateful to the tired body and limbs. I
could feel a complete sense of rest and victory, if it were not for
the sting of the wound that boy gave me. Who could have thought that
I should be defeated with the sword by a boy from the woods of
Kaintock?"

The Spaniard frowned and narrowed his cruel blue eyes. Braxton
Wyatt murmured some words of sympathy, but in his heart he was not
sorry because of the incident. He thought that Alvarez at times had
patronized him too much, had assumed too lofty an air, and he was
willing to see him suffer mortification. Moreover, he could use the
hurt pride of Alvarez as an additional incitement against the five
whom he hated.

"You told me once," said Alvarez "that the three comrades of the
two, the three whom we have not captured, are much to be dreaded, and
we have had proof of it?"

"It is so."

"But what can they do now?"

"But little," answered the renegade. "It was farther north in
the great wilderness, where they are so much at home, that they could
do us harm. Here within the fringe of the French and Spanish
settlements, they will be hampered too much."

"Yes, I should think so," said Alvarez thoughtfully. "As you
perhaps surmise, I am going to stay here indefinitely, Wyatt. This
place of mine, Beaulieu, I call it, is at a suitable distance from
New Orleans and I am an absolute monarch while I remain. Here, on
the border, I am as a military commander, practically lord of life
and death, and on one excuse or another I can hold the troops as long
as I please."

"Which seems to me to be very convenient for all our plans,"
said Braxton Wyatt.

The Spaniard smiled, but speedily contracted his brows again.
The cut that Paul had given him was hurting.

"I should like to punish that boy in some spectacular manner,"
he said. "I should want him to be humiliated in the presence of
others as I was."

Suddenly he raised his head, which he had bent in thought, and
his lips curled in laughter under his yellow mustache.

"I have it!" he exclaimed. "An idea! Since young Kaintock can
use the sword I shall give him a chance to do it again! Oh, I shall
give him every opportunity!"

Then he leaned over and spoke in lower tones to Braxton Wyatt.
The renegade's eyes lighted up with delight.

"The very thing! " he exclaimed. "I'd have it done at once!"

Paul and Long Jim Hart meanwhile were resting in their log
prison. Jim's arms had been unbound and, after rubbing them freely,
he said that the circulation was restored. Then the two turned their
attention to their prison. Paul surmised that it had been built as a
tool house or store house, but at present it was empty save for
himself and his comrade, Long Jim.

The only light came from two little windows made merely by
cutting out a section of log and quite too small to admit a human
body. They tried the door but it was so strong that they could not
shake it. Then Long Jim lay calmly down on the floor.

"Paul," he said, "I don't believe I wuz ever fastened up in sech
a little place ez this afore. Ef I stretch out my legs my feet will
hit the wall over thar, an' the place is so close an' hot I don't
breathe good."

"We'll have to stand it for a while," said Paul
philosophically.

"That's so," said Long Jim, "I don't s'pose they mean to murder
us ez we're not at real war with the Spaniards, so I wonder what they
mean to do."

Paul shook his head. But he understood better than Long Jim the
dangers of their situation. He knew the temper and character of
Alvarez, and he knew, too, that at this distant chateau he was
omnipotent. Alvarez was bent on making war upon the settlers in
Kentucky, and nothing would stop him.

"Henry an' Sol an' Tom are free," said Long Jim. "They'll git us
out, shore."

They remained a long time undisturbed, and the air in the room
was so close and hot that both became languorous and sleepy. Nor was
there any sound except the droning of some flies overhead and this
added to the heaviness. Paul finally rose and gazed through the
little windows, but he saw only an empty field and the edge of the
forest. Save for this glimpse of green they were completely cut off
from the world. He sat down again on the floor and composed his
figure as comfortably as he could.

"How long do you think we hev been in here, Paul?" asked Long
Jim.

"About four hours."

"Four hours! why, I thought it wuz four months. Paul, I don't
believe I could stand this more'n a week, no matter ef they fed me
upon the finest things in the land. At the end uv a week I'd turn
right over an' die, an' when they examined me to see the cause uv my
death, they'd find that my heart wuz broke in two, right squar' down
the middle."

"They say that some wild animals die in captivity, and you might
call it of a broken heart."

"I'm one of them kind. I like lots uv room. I want it to be
clean woods an' prairie runnin' a thousan' miles from me in every
direction. An' I don't want too many people trampin' 'roun' in them
woods either, save Injuns to keep you lookin' lively, an' mebbe
twenty or thirty white men purty well scattered. I reckon I'd call
that my estate, Paul, an' I'd want it swarmin' with b'ars an' buff
aler an' deer, an' all kinds uv big an' little game. Then I'd want a
couple uv good rifles, one to take the place uv tother when it went
bad, an' a couple uv huts p'raps three or four hundred miles apart to
sleep in, when the weather wuz too tarnation bad, lots uv ammunition
an', Paul, I'd be happy on that thar estate uv mine."

"Aren't you a little bit grasping, Jim?" asked Paul.

"Me, graspin'," replied Long Jim in a surprise. "What makes you
ask sech a foolish question, Paul? Why, all I ask is to range ez fur
an' ez long ez I like an' not to be bothered by no interlopers. I
don't want to crowd nobody, an' I don't want nobody to crowd me.
But, Paul, ef a feller could do that fur about a thousand years
wouldn't it be a life wuth livin'? Just think uv all the deer hunts
an' buffaler hunts an' b'ar hunts you could hey! An' the long beaver
trappin' trips, you could go on? An' the new rivers an' new mountings
you could find! the Injuns has the right idea about Heaven, Paul.
They make it the happy huntin' grounds. Them huntin' grounds o'
theirs run ten million miles in every direction. You couldn't ever
come to any end. No matter how fur you went you'd see oceans uv
green trees ahead uv you, an' on one side uv you prairies covered
with buffaler herds so big that they'd be a week passin' you, an'
then they'd still be passin'."

Long Jim heaved a deep sigh and was silent for a while. Paul,
too, was silent. At last Long Jim said:

"I s'pose it don't pay; Paul, to be drawin' sech splendiferous
pictures uv what ain't. Now I've gone an' made myself onhappy,
talkin' uv them glorious huntin' grounds that stretch away without
end, when here we are in this hot box so narrer I can't straighten
out my legs. Besides, I'm gittin' pow'ful hungry. I wonder ef they
mean to starve us to death. Strikes me that's an awful mean way uv
killin' a man. He not only dies but he's so terrible hungry sech a
long time.

But Long Jim's forebodings were not fulfilled. When the light
that came through the little windows began to grow dusky, the door
was thrown open and Luiz and another man entered with food and water.
Luiz could not speak English, but he could make pantomime, and in
that dumb but suggestive way he invited them to partake freely. Long
Jim's good humor returned.

"Don't keer ef I do, Mr. Spaniard," he said jovially. "It's a
failin' uv mine to want to eat whenever I'm hungry, an' since you' re
invitin', why, I'll jest accept."

The door was left open while Luiz and the soldier were inside,
but several other soldiers were on guard at the opening, and there
was no chance for a dash. But fresh air came in, the cooler air of
the evening, and Paul and Long Jim were greatly relieved. Yet Jim
Hart cast many a longing glance at the open door. Outside was the
wide world, and his place was there. Darkness was coming, but
darkness would have no terrors for Long Jim, if only there were no
walls about him.

When hunger and thirst were satisfied, Luiz and his comrade fell
back respectfully. A tall figure, followed by a man bearing a torch,
entered the doorway.

The man was Francisco Alvarez, but neither Paul nor Long Jim
rose, Paul because he disliked the Spaniard and considered him a
bitter enemy of his people, Long Jim because he saw no reason why he
should rise for anybody.

Alvarez looked down at them and the sight of the two caused him
a mixture of anger and triumph. His wound still stung, but at the
bottom of his heart was a feeling that he had deserved it. In the
presence of his own retainers, and with all the circumstances in his
favor, he had sought to humiliate a boy. But this faint feeling was
not enough to induce corresponding action. He was also something of
a statesman, and he saw the power behind these two who had come out
of the woods. They were foresters, they wore the tanned skin of the
deer, but they belonged to the soil; they were natives, while he, in
all his brilliant uniform and gold lace, was a foreigner, merely the
long, extended arm of a power four thousand miles away. The two were
but a vanguard, others would come and yet others in a volume, always
increasing. The only possibility of saving Louisiana was to cut off
the stream at the fountain head, while it was yet a thin and
trickling rill and he, Francisco Alvarez, was the man for the
deed.

It was because such thoughts as these were passing through his
head that he did not speak for at least a minute, but stood steadily
regarding Paul and Long Jim. He knew instinctively that it was Paul
to whom he must speak, the boy with the thoughtful, dreamy eye, who,
like himself, would gaze far into the future.

"Where are your comrades?" he asked, "the other three who helped
you to steal my boat?"

"Captured it, you mean," replied Paul, calmly. "So long as you
use the words 'steal' and 'thief,' you can talk to the air. I've
nothing to say."

"Nor me either, Paul," said Long Jim, "I can't remember another
time in my life when I felt so little like talkin'."

Long Jim leaned his head against the wall and half closed his
eyes. His manner expressed the utmost indifference. Alvarez
frowned, but he remembered that they were wholly in his power and he
had plans.

"I'll change the words," he said, "but I repeat the question.
Where are your comrades?"

"I don't know," replied Paul, and feeling a sudden happy thrill
of defiance he added: "They are probably somewhere arranging the
details of our rescue."

Alvarez frowned again.

"That is impossible," he said. "Perhaps you do not know your
position. You are not at New Orleans. Here I am both the civil and
military chief and this is my own place. I can put you to death as
brigands or guerrillas, caught red-handed upon Spanish soil."

"Both charges, you know, are false," said Paul, "you know, too,
that we have come to defeat, if we can, a conspiracy between you and
Braxton Wyatt, a renegade whose life is doubly forfeit to his people.
He carries plans, maps, and full information of our settlements in
Kentucky, and he expects that you will go with many soldiers and
cannon to help him and the tribes destroy us. What plans you and he
have beyond this I do not know, but these, my friends and I hope to
defeat, and we feel we could not be engaged in a greater or holier
task."

Paul spoke with great fire and eloquence. His soul was revealed
in his eyes, and Alvarez felt that he was in touch with a mind of no
common order.

"Imagination!" said the Spaniard trying to laugh the impression
away. "I find in Senior Wyatt a pleasant and intelligent assistant.
He understands the rights of the King of Spain in these vast regions,
and has a due regard for, them. You and your comrades are outlaws,
subject to the penalty of death and I hold you in my hand. Yet I am
disposed to be generous. Give me your oath that you and your comrade
here and the three in the woods will go back to Kaintock at once and
remain there, and I will release you."

Paul regarded him steadily. Bold man as he was, the Spaniard's
eyes fell at last.

"We can give no such promise," said Paul. "I think that the
reasons why we should go on to New Orleans are exceedingly
strong."

"Ez fur me," said Long Jim, "I ain't ever been fond uv goin'
back on my own tracks until I git good an' ready."

"I merely came here to give you a chance," said Alvarez, still
addressing himself to Paul. "Do you think that a few woodsmen can
stand in the path of Spain? Do you think that a great ancient
monarchy can be held back by stray settlers?"

"You seem to be afraid of it yourself," said Paul who was
regarding him closely.

A flush, despite himself, came into the Spaniard's cheeks, and
it was partly of anger because a boy had read his mind so well. It
was not a thing to be endured.

"I repeat that I came merely to give you a chance," he said.
"Whatever you may suffer you can now bear in mind that you are the
cause of it. Come, Luiz, I have wasted too much time.

He walked out followed by the soldier, but Francisco Alvarez had
known before entering the prison that his offer would be declined.
He merely wished to clear away any light burden that might rest" on
his conscience, before proceeding with another plan that he had in
mind.

Paul and Jim did not say a word until the door was fastened and
they were left to the darkness. Then it was Jim who unburdened
himself.

"Paul," he said, "did you ever see a panther gittin' ready to
jump? Notice how his eyes turn a yellery-green, 'cause he thinks
he's goin' to git what he wants right away? Notice how his mouth is
slobberin' 'cause he thinks he's goin' to hey his dinner on the spot.
Notice how his body is drawed up, an' his tail is slowly movin' side
to side, 'cause he thinks he's goin' to sink his claws in tender
flesh the next second! Wa'al that panther makes me think uv this
here Spaniard, Alvarez. I think we kin look fur jest about ez much
kindness an' gentlin' from him ez a fawn could expect from a hungry
panther."

"You are certainly right, Jim," said Paul.

"Uv course! Ef I didn't know thar wuz so many soldiers about,
I'd send a whoop through one uv them little winders thar, an' bring
Henry, Tom, an' Sol here to let us out."

"As we can't do that, Jim," said Paul, "I think I'll go to
sleep."