The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi by Altsheler (best ereader for comics txt) 📕

am pleased that I have met you. Know then that I am the enemy of Francisco Alvarez, and that I may aid you. Who can tell? It is well for strangers to have friends in New Orleans. I have an impression that I have some influence. I am usually wrong and my memory is always weak, but this particular impression persists, nevertheless."

Long Jim opened his mouth in wonder.

"'Pears strange to me," he said, "that a furrin man kin pick more big words out uv our language, an' rope 'em together than we kin."

Lieutenant Diégo Bernal smiled. He was pleased.

"I learned English when I was a boy," he said, "and now it serves me well. I would hear more of your news, gentlemen, but for the present I wish to offer you refreshments. Come with me, if you please."

He led the way into a low building of brick, an inn fashioned after the manner of those in France.

They entered the public room, which was large and square, with a fairly clean, sanded floor, and many men about drinking liquors unknown to the five.

They took seats at a table in a rather retired corner, and gazed with interest at the variegated crowd. Many of the men wore great, gold rings in their ears, something entirely new to the five, and others were tattooed in strange designs. They drank deep and swore much and loudly in strange tongues. Also, they smoked cigarros, cigarritos, and pipes, and there was scarcely one present who did not have either knife or pistol or both at belt.

"Undoubtedly there is more than one pirate from the Gulf or the Caribbean among them," said Lieutenant Bernal, "but the pirates perhaps are not the worst. Louisiana and New Orleans can supply many a desperate villain of their own."

"Sent by Europe!" said Paul.

"Truly so. An old country always seeks to disgorge such people upon a new one. But Monsieur Gilibert, the proprietor of this inn, on the whole, maintains good order among his customers. As you can now see, Monsieur Gilibert is a man of parts."

The proprietor, wearing a cook's cap and white apron, emerged that moment from his kitchen. He was not above supervising, and even doing his own cooking, and, because of it, his inn had acquired a great reputation for excellence of food, as well as drink.

Many of the French in New Orleans were Provençals, but Monsieur Gilibert was from the North of France, a huge, flaxen-haired man with a large square chin, and a fearless countenance. His blue eye roved around the room and lighted upon the five and their host, Lieutenant Diégo Bernal, at the secluded table. He noted that every one of the five had a long rifle leaning by his chair, and he shrewdly surmised that they were from the wilderness of the far North.

Monsieur François Eugene Gilibert did not love the Spanish, although he did like Lieutenant Diégo Bernal, who was a Catalan and therefore, in the opinion of Monsieur Gilibert, almost a Frenchman. Neither did he like the passing of New Orleans from the French into the hands of the Spanish, although trade was as good as ever at his Inn of Henri Quatre, despite the narrow Spanish rule, which was not to his taste. It was perhaps one half his love of freedom and one-half his objection to the rule of Spain that made him look with friendly eyes upon any far wanderers from Kaintock.

He strolled to the table and greeted Lieutenant Bernal, who returned his greeting pleasantly and gave the names of the five.

"They come from Kaintock," said the lieutenant, significantly, "and they do not like Francisco Alvarez."

"Ah," said Monsieur Gilibert, who also spoke English. "I do not love that man Alvarez. He is the enemy of the French."

"Not more than he is of Kaintock," said the Lieutenant. Then he turned to the five and said:

"I did not bring you here merely to hear words. I wish something to drink for my friends, kind Monsieur Gilibert. The inn has rum of both New England and Barbadoes, Spanish and French wines. Now what shall it be?"

He turned to the five, and as they answered, one by one, the eyes of the young Spanish lieutenant opened wider and wider in astonishment. They had never tasted rum and were quite sure they would not care for it. Wine they knew, almost as little about, using that they had found on "The Galleon" chiefly as a medicine, and they ended, one and all, by choosing a mild West Indian drink, a kind of orange water. Lieutenant Bernal reached over and with his two hands felt gingerly of Henry's mighty right arm.

"Do you mean to tell me," he said, "that such a muscle and such a body have been built up and nourished by things as mild as orange water?"

"Not orange water, but plain water," replied Henry laughing. "But in Maryland where I was born, and in Kentucky, where I've been growing up, the water is very good, clear, pure, and cold."

"Will you kindly stand up a moment?" said the lieutenant.

Henry promptly stood up and then Lieutenant Diégo Bernal, standing by the side of him, was about a head the shorter. Then the young lieutenant made a wry face.

"And I have drunk wine all my life," he said plaintively, "and he has drunk only water!"

The two sat down again, and the others laughed. Their talk and actions had attracted the attention of a number in the room, and a large man with great gold bands in his ears, rose and sauntered over toward them. He was a dark fellow, evidently a West Indian Spaniard with a dash of Carib.

"I have drunk rum and wine and all other liquors all my life," he said, "but I am neither little nor weak."

His tone was truculent, and his flushed face indicated that he had already taken too much.

"Go away, Menocal," said Monsieur Gilibert, in a voice half soothing, half warning. "I do not wish my guests to be annoyed."

But Menocal would not turn away. He put his hand upon Henry's shoulder.

"This is a great youth," he said. "They grow large in the new country to the north that they call Kaintock, but I, Alonzo Menocal of Santo Domingo, am the stronger. Stand up, thou youth of Kaintock, by the side of me!"

Henry promptly stood up again, and the young giant towered above Alonzo Menocal of Santo Domingo, tall though the West Indian was. Moreover he had greater breadth of shoulder and a deeper chest.

"Ha, thou Kaintock!" exclaimed Menocal, "thou art the taller and the larger, but I am the stronger, as I shall quickly prove!"

The size of Henry acted as an irritant upon Menocal, already flushed with intoxicants, and he seized the youth by the waist in an attempt to hurl him to the floor and thus prove his superior strength. Henry, with an instant, powerful effort, threw oft the encircling arms, seized the West Indian by both shoulders, and made use of a trick that Shif'less Sol had taught him.

He thrust the man backward with a mighty shove, put out his foot, and Menocal went over it. But the West Indian did not touch the floor. Henry caught him by the neck and waist, and, with a great heave, lifted him high above his head. He held him there a moment, and then said gravely to Monsieur François Eugene Gilibert:

"Shall I cast him through yonder window, or put him back in the chair in which he was sitting before he came to us uninvited?"

Monsieur Gilibert looked longingly at the window—he was a man of strength and dexterity himself—and he admired great strength and great dexterity in others—but motives of prudence and humanity prevailed.

"Put him back in his chair," he said.

Henry walked all the way across the room and gently put the half-stunned man in a sitting position in his chair. A roar of applause shook the room at this remarkable performance, and Monsieur Gilibert was not the slackest among those who cheered. Never before had the Inn of Henri Quatre witnessed such an extraordinary feat of strength. Lieutenant Diégo Bernal sprang to his feet and again seized Henry's right hand in both of his.

"Señor," he exclaimed, "it is an honor to me to deem myself your friend!"

Alonzo Menocal arose from his chair and came across the room. Paul's hand moved to the butt of the pistol in his belt, but the intentions of the West Indian were not hostile.

"Thou hast conquered," he said to Henry in his queer thee- and thou-English. "Thou art not only the taller and the larger, but also the stronger and the more skillful. It is the first time that Alonzo Menocal was ever picked up, carried across a room, and put down in his chair, as a mother puts her baby to bed."

He put out his hand in quite an American fashion, and Henry shook it, glad that the man was good-natured. More applause greeted this act of friendship by the two and, taking advantage of it, the five went out, accompanied by Lieutenant Bernal, all in great good humor.

Night was coming on, and they felt that it was time to return to "The Galleon." A man was already lighting the smoking oil lamps that hung from the wooden arms of the posts, and from one of the forts a sentinel was calling the hour.

New Orleans looked better under the softening hue of the twilight. Many of the asperities that go as a matter of course with newness were hidden, but the smells remained.

"Wish I could sleep in the woods to-night, with nuthin' but trees runnin' away at least ten miles in every direction," said Long Jim.

"It will be all right in our boat on the river," said Paul.

"I think I shall go with you as far as your boat," said Lieutenant Bernal.

"You're welcome. Come on," said Henry, confident of his friendship.

The five and the lieutenant walked swiftly toward the Mississippi.

CHAPTER XV BEFORE BERNARDO GALVEZ

It took only a few minutes to reach the banks of the stream, and they saw at once that an event was occurring. New Orleans could rejoice, if she choose, in honor of an important arrival.

A fleet of a dozen large boats swung from the middle of the stream and made for the levee. In the boats were men in uniform.

"I have an impression, though my impressions are often wrong and my memory always weak, that yonder cavalier who sits haughtily in the boat as if he were sole proprietor of the Mississippi, is your good friend, Don Francisco Alvarez," said Lieutenant Bernal in his mincing way.

They had all recognized Alvarez, and they expected quick trouble. As it was bound to come they had no objection to its coming at once. The boat of Alvarez made the landing and as he sprang out he was followed by Braxton Wyatt, also in the uniform of a Spanish officer. The eyes of the Captain instantly caught sight of "The Galleon," then of the five, and then of Lieutenant Diégo Bernal standing near the Americans.

"Men," he cried to some of his soldiers who had landed. "Seize this boat at once! It is my property, taken from me by these American thieves!"

The soldiers moved to obey, but the little Catalan, Lieutenant Diégo Bernal stepped forward. Never was he more mincing, and it is likely that he never felt more satisfaction than he did now at the role that he was about to play.

"Gently! Gently! my good captain," he said. "I am a port officer and boats cannot be seized at will in His Most Catholic Majesty's city of New Orleans."

His manner stung Alvarez, who replied hotly:

"I repeat, it is my boat! It was stolen from me by these thieves from Kaintock!"

"But that must be proved," and the lieutenant's voice was very soft and silky. "The law is still administered in the City of New Orleans. And let me assure you, my good captain, that the matter of the boat is a trifle. What really concerns is your delay in coming to New Orleans with your American captives, whom you held at your place of Beaulieu. His Excellency, the Governor General, Don Bernardo Galvez, is very much afraid that you have involved Spain in serious difficulties with a friendly people."

Alvarez looked fiercely at Bernal. How much did this man know? But the little lieutenant merely stroked his mustache, and his face was expressionless.

"If explanations are due," said Alvarez, "I shall make them to Don Bernardo."

"Very good! very good!" murmured the lieutenant. "I am quite sure that Don Bernardo will be greatly pleased."

Alvarez turned angrily, gave some orders to his men, and then stalked away followed by Wyatt and two others. The renegade had never spoken a word, but