The Dust of Conflict Part 49

Appleby laughed a little, but his face grew grave again as they turned towards the banker's house to inquire how Tony was progressing. There was no change, they were told, but the doctor, who was busy elsewhere, had left imperative instructions that no one was to see him.

Appleby was glad he had little leisure for reflection during the rest of the day, which was pa.s.sed in strenuous activity. There were defences to be improvised, and ambulance corps to organize, barricades built, and men driven to their posts from the wine-shops, for Candotto's Peninsulares would shortly arrive. They never came, however, but instead of them two hundred dusty men with rifles from Brena Abajo marched in, and a horde of peons from every aldea in the vicinity armed with staves and machetes followed them when dusk was closing down. Then once more the bells clashed exultantly above the clamorous town.

The soft darkness had descended upon Santa Marta, and there was quietness again, when Appleby and Harper took their places at the banquet in the Alcalde's house where Maccario had decided he would establish the provisional administration. The great room blazed with light, the tables were piled with such luxuries as could be found in the city, fruits and flasks of wine, and Appleby, who was seated at Maccario's right hand, gazed with a vague interest down the long rows of faces. They were exultant, eager, inscrutable, and anxious, for the loyalist citizens had evidently considered it advisable to comply with the leader of the Sin Verguenza's invitation.

Maccario was now dressed immaculately, and the handful of loyalists with Castilian taste and precision, but there were also men with the grime of conflict still upon their brown faces, and garments foul with smoke and dust. It seemed to Appleby that he would never again sit down with so incongruous a company. At last, when all had eaten or made a pretence of it, there was a curious stillness as Maccario stood up at the head of the table. Every eye was turned upon him, and the olive-tinted faces grew intent, for among those who watched him were men who knew that their ruin or prosperity depended upon what he had to say.

"What we have accomplished to-day will last," he said "The flag of Spain will never float over Santa Marta again."

There was a murmur from the Sin Verguenza, and Appleby saw the faces of one or two of the loyalists harden, while the rest grew anxious.

Maccario, however, smiled as he proceeded.

"A wise man yields to the inevitable," he said. "The Sin Verguenza hold this town, and you have seen that from here to the mountains the country has declared for liberty. Men are flocking in, and there are rifles to arm the battalions we are raising in the cuartel. War with the Americans is now certain, and there can be only one result of that war, my friends, while Santa Marta stands alone, a place of no importance to the Spanish generals, who will be too busy to trouble about what happens there. Now you comprehend the position."

He stopped, and it was evident that none of the loyalists could controvert him, though one rose to his feet.

"It is admitted, senor," he said gravely. "What follows?"

"That," said Maccario, "is for you and the others to decide. Martial law that will grind those who rebel against it into the dust, or, I think, prosperity, with due submission to a provisional administration. You see before you the head of it, and, at least, there will not be anarchy while he has two or three strong battalions to do his bidding. In the meanwhile the direction of affairs will be placed in the hands of ten men. Five will be nominated by myself, and I will ask your Alcalde to summon four others when he has consulted the wishes of the citizens."

There was a murmur of relief and astonishment, for this was apparently the last thing the loyalists had expected, while Appleby, who glanced at Maccario, was sensible of a slight embarra.s.sment, when he saw the little dry smile on his comrade's face. The leader of the Sin Verguenza had, it seemed, guessed his thoughts, and he was glad when the Alcalde, a gray- haired, courtly man, stood up.

"It is not what we looked for, senor, and on behalf of Santa Marta you have our grat.i.tude," he said. "Still, while others may be willing, I, at least, can hold no office under an insurgent usurpation."

There was an angry murmur from the Sin Verguenza, but the Alcalde stood very erect, gazing at them disdainfully, and Maccario raised his hand.

"The Alcalde is, I think, scarcely wise, but he is a loyal gentleman,"

he said. "We will pa.s.s over him. The Senor Sanchez who, I am told, is regarded with respect in Santa Marta, will, perhaps, recommend five citizens of integrity."

A slight, olive-faced gentleman in white duck stood up. "Since we have been beaten I agree," he said. "One has, however, questions to ask.

There will be an amnesty to those who have supported Morales, and their possessions will be made secure to them?"

A little grim twinkle crept into Maccario's eyes. "Every citizen of means will be required to contribute to the equipment of the new battalions to be raised and the cost of administration, in proportion to his income, as the council shall decide. If there are any who desire to show their contrition for past hostility by being generous now they will have an opportunity. There are also one or two to whom such a course is recommended."

More than one of the company glanced at his neighbor uneasily, but the man who had spoken turned to Maccario with a little expressive gesture.

"Then I will go now to consult with and spread the good news among the citizens," he said.

Maccario laughed softly. "They will no doubt be astonished. To them the Sin Verguenza have been as wolves, but that was the fault of Morales, who made them so. Now they are the bloodhounds who, while the household sleep in peace, keep watch in the patio. Still, the bloodhound is a beast that one would do well to beware of, my friend. Well, I will not keep the gentlemen who have honored us with their company, but there is a toast to drink, and you who have made plantations and built warehouses, and we who have marched and fought, can join in it equally.

To the prosperity of Cuba!"

The men rose as one, the loyalists with evident relief that nothing more had been asked of them, and as they swung, up their gla.s.ses the building rang with the shout.

Then in the silence that followed the Alcalde filled his gla.s.s again.

"And," he said, "to Spain!"

Maccario made him a little ceremonious inclination. "Senor," he said, "with ten such men on the council one would have no fear concerning the prosperity of Santa Marta."

Then the citizens went out, and Maccario smiled as he turned to Appleby.

"It seems that the time of the friends of liberty has come," he said.

"There will no doubt be preferment for those who have fought well, but the promise you made us was to hold only until Santa Marta had fallen."

Appleby was almost astonished to find himself troubled by a keen sense of regret. "I take it back," he said quietly. "You will now find plenty of other men willing to take my place with the Sin Verguenza."

"It is likely, but none that one could trust so well. Still, you will not be hasty. It is a good life, Bernardino-ours of the march and bivouac. Would you be happier counting the dollars in American cities than watching the Cuban highways or lying on the hillsides by the red fires? To gain one thing one must always give up another, and would not such a man as you are prefer to decide the fate of cities and battalions than haggle over a bargain? It is command, the stress of effort, and the untrammelled joy of life, suns.h.i.+ne, and wine, we offer you, while one lives in bonds and sadly in your Northern cities."

Appleby sighed a little, for the temptation was alluring, but he knew the shadowy side of the life the Sin Verguenza led, and he kept his head.

"I have made my decision, and the Senor Harding waits for me," he said.

Maccario smiled. "Then I shall gain nothing by objecting. After all, it is of no great importance whether a man trades as a merchant or fights as a soldier. That will be as fate arranges it for him. He is born what he is."

"The Senor Appleby will leave us?" asked one of the men.

"Yes," said Maccario, who stood up, "when it pleases him, and I think it is scarcely likely we shall sit at meat with him again. You will pledge a faithful comrade and a valiant soldier, without whom we might never have been the masters of Santa Marta."

The men were on their feet in a moment, and Appleby felt his heart throb as he glanced down the long row of faces. Many were still grimed with dust, and the brown hands that held the gla.s.ses stained with the black fouling from the rifles, but there was no mistaking the good will in the dark eyes. Then the gla.s.ses went up with a shout that filled the great room and rang out through the open windows across the silent town, and Appleby, who never remembered what he said, found himself speaking hoa.r.s.ely.

He sat down while the shouting broke out again, and saw a man in the doorway signing to him.

"The Senor Palliser is permitted to see you. It is recommended that you lose no time," he said when there was silence.

Maccario laid his hand sympathetically upon Appleby's arm. "It is well to be prepared," he said. "I am afraid that by to-morrow there will be another of your countrymen struck off the roll of the Sin Verguenza."

Appleby rose and followed the man with his heart beating painfully, and it was only by an effort he retained his tranquillity when he was led into a room in the banker's house where a lamp was burning. Its flame flickered in the draught, for the lattices were open wide, but it showed the drawn white face that was turned expectantly towards the door.

"I am glad you have come," said the wounded man. "I don't think I realized what was going to happen, or where I was, until an hour ago, and then I was horribly afraid the man wouldn't find you. You see, I don't suppose there's more than another hour or two left me now."

Appleby set his lips as he glanced down at the white face, and felt that this was true. Then his eyes grew a trifle dim as he laid his hand on Tony's arm.

"Why," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "did I ever let you go?"

Tony smiled. "There is no necessity to reproach yourself. You know just as well as I do that you could not have stopped me, and I'm not sure that after all I'm very sorry. There is n.o.body who will not get on just as well without me."

"You are wrong. There is not a man at Northrop who will not feel the blow-and there is Violet."

Tony's fingers seemed to quiver. "Still!" he said very slowly, "I think she will get over it."

Appleby said nothing for a few moments, for there was something he could not understand in his comrade's face Then he said softly, "How did it happen, Tony?"

Tony shook his head. "I can't quite remember. I saw that cazador with the bayonet, and went for him with the b.u.t.t," he said. "The only thing I am sure about is that he got me instead."

Appleby gasped as the vague memories of the struggle on the veranda grew clearer. "Tony, you thrust yourself in between him and me?"

Tony smiled a little. "Well," he said slowly, "it seemed even chances that I could reach him with the b.u.t.t, and I owed you a good deal, you see."

Appleby clenched one hand, and turned his face away, and there was for a full minute silence in the dimly lighted room while he looked out through the square of open cas.e.m.e.nt at the dusky blueness of the night.

Then through the hum of voices in the street below there came a rhythmic tramp of feet and a thin jingle of steel, while as it grew louder the glare of waving torches shone into the room. Tony watched it flicker upon the wall.