Uraga no longer stays listening to the mock humanity of his whining messenger. No more does he think of the drowned Pedrillo. His thoughts are now given to a new design. Murder by proxy has failed. For all that, it must still be done. To take counsel with his adjutant about the best mode of proceeding, he hastens back to the camp; plunges into his tent; and there becomes closeted--the lieutenant along with him.
CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO.
A MOCK COURT-MARTIAL.
For the disaster that was overtaken the Tenawa chief and his warriors, Gil Uraga does not care a jot. True, by the death of Horned Lizard he has lost an ally who, on some future scheme of murder, might have been used to advantage; while Barbato, whose life he believes also taken, can no more do him service as agent in his intercourse with the red pirates of the prairie.
It matters not much now. As military commander of a district he has attained power, enabling him to dispense with any left-handed a.s.sistance; and of late more than once has wished himself rid of such suspicious auxiliaries. Therefore, but for the frustration of his present plans, he would rather rejoice than grieve over the tidings brought by the returned emissary.
His suit scorned, his scheme of a.s.sa.s.sination thwarted, he is as much as ever determined on the death of the two prisoners.
In the first moments of his anger, after hearing Jose"s tale, he felt half inclined to rush upon Miranda, sword in hand, and settle the matter at once. But, while returning to the camp-ground, calmer reflections arose, restraining him from the dastardly act, and deciding him to carry out the other alternative, already conceived, but kept back as a _dernier ressort_.
"Sit down, _camarado_!" he says, addressing the adjutant on entering.
"We must hold a court-martial, and that is too serious a ceremonial to be gone through without the customary forms. The members of the court should be seated."
The grim smile which accompanies his words shows that he means them in jest only as regards the manner of proceeding. For the earnestness of his intention there is that in his eyes--a fierce, lurid light, which Roblez can read.
In rejoinder the adjutant asks,--
"You are still resolved upon the death of the prisoners?"
"Still resolved! Carramba! An idle question, after what has occurred!
They die within the hour. We shall try, condemn, and then have them shot."
"I thought you had arranged it in a different way?"
"So I had. But circ.u.mstances alter cases. There"s many a slip "twixt cup and lip, and I"ve just heard of one. The Horned Lizard has failed me."
"How so, colonel?"
"You see that Indian outside. He"s one of my muleteers I"d sent as a messenger to the Tenawa town. He returns to tell me there"s no Horned Lizard in existence, and only a remnant of his tribe. Himself, with the best of his braves, has gone to the happy hunting grounds; not voluntarily, but sent thither by a party of Tejanos who fell foul of them on a foray."
"That"s a strange tale," rejoins Roblez, adding, "And Barbato?"
"Dead, too--gone with his red-skinned a.s.sociates."
"Certainly a singular occurrence--quite a coincidence."
"A coincidence that leaves me in an awkward predicament, without my expected executioners. Well, we must supply their places by subst.i.tuting our own cut-throats."
"You"ll find them willing, colonel. The little interlude of Miranda getting loose, and making to run you through, has been all in your favour. It affords sufficient pretext for court-martialling and condemning both prisoners to be shot I"ve heard the men say so, and they expect it."
"They shall not be disappointed, nor have long to wait. The court has finished its sitting, and given its verdict. Without dissenting voice, the prisoners are condemned to death. So much for the sentence. Now to carry it into execution."
"How is the thing to be done?"
"Call in the sergeant. With him I shall arrange that. And when you"re out, go among the men and say a word to prepare them for the measure.
You may tell them we"ve been trying the prisoners, and the result arrived at."
The adjutant steps out of the tent; and while Uraga is swallowing another cup of Catalan to fortify him for his fearful purpose, the sergeant enters.
"_Sergente_! there"s some business to be done of a delicate nature, and you must take direction of it."
The Serjeant salutes, and stands awaiting the explanation. The colonel continues:--
"We intend taking our prisoners no farther--the men, I mean. With the women we have nothing to do--as prisoners. After what you saw, we deem it necessary that Don Valerian Miranda should die; and also the other, who is equally incriminated as a traitor to the State--a rebel, an old conspirator, well known. Lieutenant Roblez and I have held a court, and decreed their death. So order the men to load their carbines, and make ready to carry out the sentence."
The sergeant simply nods a.s.sent, and, again saluting, is about to retire, when Uraga stays him with a second speech.
"Let all take part in the firing except Galvez. Post him as sentry over the square tent. Direct him to stand by its entrance and see that the flap is kept down. Under no circ.u.mstances is he to let either of its occupants out. It"s not a spectacle for women--above all, one of them.
Never mind; we can"t help that I"m sorry myself, but duty demands this rigorous measure. Now go. First give Galvez his orders; then to the men and get them ready. Make no more noise than is necessary. Let your lancers be drawn up in line; afoot, of course, and single file."
"Where am I to place the prisoners, colonel?"
"Ah! true; I did not think of that."
Uraga steps to the entrance of the tent, and, looking forth, takes a survey of the camp-ground. His eyes seek the spot occupied by the prisoners. They are both again together, under the same tree where first placed, a sentry keeping guard over them. The tree is a cottonwood, with smooth stem and large limbs extending horizontally.
Another is near, so similar as to seem a twin; both being a little out from the thick timber, which forms a dark background behind them.
After regarding them a moment, scanning them as a lumberman would a log intended for a saw-mill, Uraga directs.
"Raise the prisoners upright, and tie one to each of those two trees.
Set their backs to the trunk. They"ve both been army men, and we won"t disgrace the cloth by shooting them from behind. That"s grace enough for rebels."
The sergeant, saluting, is again about to go, only staying to catch some final words of direction. They are--
"In ten minutes I shall expect you to have everything ready. When you"ve got the stage set I shall myself appear upon it as an actor--the Star of this pretty play!"
And with a hoa.r.s.e laugh at his horrid jest, the ruffian retires within his tent.
CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE.
THE HAND OF G.o.d.
The sun is descending towards the crest of the Cordillera, his rays becoming encrimsoned as twilight approaches. They fall like streams of blood between the bluffs enclosing the valley of the Arroyo de Alamo, their tint in unison with a tragedy there about to be enacted--in itself strangely out of correspondence with the soft, tranquil scene.
The stage is the encampment of Uraga and his detachment of lancers, now set for the terrible spectacle soon to take place.
The two tents are still standing as pitched, several paces apart. At the entrance of the square one, with its flap drawn close and tied, a soldier keeps sentry; that of conical shape being unguarded.
Rearward, by the wood edge, are three horses and a mule, all four under saddle, with bridles on; these attached to the branches of a tree.
There is no providence in this, but rather neglect. Since the purpose for which they were caparisoned has proved abortive, they remain so only from having been forgotten.