"Wonderful," Hall said, taking the flag. "I guess it"s also the Yankee day to howl."
A crowd formed around Hall and Duarte. They saluted the American flag, saluted the Mexican uniform.
"Long live the United States! Long live Mexico!" the crowd shouted, and the two men answered, as one, "Long live Don Anibal!"
The crowd separated, let them through. They walked a few steps, and then another crowd formed around them. Again they listened to cheers for the United States and Mexico, again they responded with their cheer for Tabio.
"Jesus H. Christ," Hall said. "This is the first time I"ve carried an American flag in the streets since I was a Boy Scout in Ohio."
"It will do you good, Mateo."
"I like it. But try to make anyone believe it back home!"
At the fourth block Hall and Duarte started to detour around a trolley car which had stopped in the middle of a crossing. A dozen hands reached down from the crowded roof. "_Companeros!_ Take our hands! Climb up!
Take our hands! We want a speech!"
"Long live Mexico! Homage to Colonel Felipe Duarte, Counselor of the Mexican Emba.s.sy and hero of the war against the fascists in Spain!"
Duarte had to join the crowd on the roof of the stalled train. He made a short speech about Mexico, Republican Spain, and the greatness of Anibal Tabio.
Two more blocks of happy, cheering Hermanitos. Vivas, salutes for the American flag and the Mexican uniform. Men in dungarees and heavy shoes saluting the flag and the uniform with clenched fists. Young women and old men who embraced Hall and Duarte. Even an ancient with a nicotine-yellowed white beard, who wiggled out of one crowd, tore the flag out of Hall"s hand, kissed it, and then handed it back to the American with an embrace and a viva for Voodro Veelson.
They were relaxing over a beer in Duarte"s office when the explosion came.
"What the h.e.l.l...?" Hall cried.
There were two explosions. A little one, like the crack of a distant artillery piece in the mountains and then a louder, deep-toned whoosh of a noise. They had both heard such noises before.
"Remember that noise, Mateo?"
Hall was on his feet. "Do I! Only one thing makes a noise like that," he said. "Direct hit on a gasoline tank."
"Exactly."
While they were washing, the sun had begun to set. Now a new sun had risen in the skies of San Hermano, risen at a point about a mile north of the Emba.s.sy. A great sheet of flame had shot from the ground, stabbing at the purpling skies, straining to leap clear of the round heavy blobs of black smoke which rose from the same place and surged over and around the fires.
The streets were more crowded than they had been when Hall and Tabio left the Congress. New signs had been added to the placards and portraits of Tabio which the people carried. Tremendous sketches and blown-up photos of Churchill, Roosevelt, Stalin and Chiang Kai-shek, nailed to frames with handles for two men, bobbed over the heads of the crowds. Duarte, from the balcony, asked the people on the street what had happened. They thought it was a victory bonfire.
"The h.e.l.l it is, Felipe. Let"s see for ourselves."
"I must stay and write my cable. You go and then come back here."
"Can you lend me a car and a chauffeur?"
"You couldn"t drive a car through these crowds. You"ll have to walk.
Leave through the back way. It opens on a narrow street leading to the Avenida de la Liberacion. You"ll save time."
Hall found the narrow street deserted. He set out at a fast pace, his eyes on the flames and the increasingly heavy puffs of smoke. The shouts of the crowds on the broad avenues and the plazas followed him up the small street. Over the cries of the Hermanitos came the wail of the sirens, the clamor of the bells on the American fire engines the city had purchased a few years back.
The crowd half-pushed, half-guided Hall to the entrance of the Ritz. He ducked into the lobby to catch his breath, bought some cigars at the stand, lit one, and then decided to have a quick drink.
Margaret Skidmore was at the bar with Giselle Prescott and a young man Hall had met at the Emba.s.sy ball. The Prescott woman was wearing an immense wheel of a white hat. She was very drunk.
"What"s up?" Hall asked.
"The Reds blew up a church," Margaret said. "How are you, Matt? I heard that you were out on a monumental bender. Too many women?"
"Too much alcohol." Then, to the man with the girls, "Didn"t we meet at the Emba.s.sy party? My name is Hall."
"I"m the Marques de Runa."
"Spanish?"
Margaret answered for him. "No. Not exactly. The family had the t.i.tle revalidated in 1930."
Giselle Prescott shuddered over an emptied gla.s.s. She whispered something about rum, romanism and rebellion.
"What"s eating her?" Hall asked Margaret.
"Gin and communism. She"s allergic to burning churches."
"My father phoned the governor of our province and demanded soldiers to protect the family estates," the young Marques said. "It is scandalous.
We hear that they"ve already raped a nun and killed two priests. My father says that if El Tovarich ..."
"Who saw the church burning?" Hall interrupted.
"Everyone, senor."
"Any of you?"
Silence. "Any of you?" he repeated.
"It was anarchy," the Marques said. "When El Tovarich started to rant in Congress today the Reds swarmed into the city from the wharves. They tore a religious poster from my cousin"s arms and beat him within an inch of his life."
"Is that a fact?" Hall was staring at the gold emblem of the Cross and Sword in the Marques" lapel. "That"s too bad."
"You see what I meant," Margaret said. "Now you understand me, Matt."
"Sure. Now I understand. How about you, Giselle?"
"What about me? I"m filing for the WP today."
"Then you"d better come with me. I"m going to have a look at this burning church. Might be good color stuff."
"I don" wanna look," she said. "Gives me hives. Besides, I know all about it anyway."