The Man Of Destiny
: Heart Of The Sunset"Now, then, I'll explain," said Alaire, turning to the men.
"Longorio declares he won't have me except as his wife, and I
think he means it. He is amazingly egotistical. He has tremendous
ambitions. He thinks this war is his great opportunity, and he
means to be President--he's sure of it. He loves me, but he loves
himself better, I'm sure. Now, don't you see? He'll have to choose
one or the other."
Father O'Malley did not appear to appreciate the full force of
this reasoning. "My dear," he said, gravely, "he can make you a
widow again. In such times as these men are savages."
"Oh, but that's not all." Alaire turned to her newly made husband.
"They let you in, and they'll let you out again--if you go
quickly, before it's known what we've done."
Dave stared at her in bewilderment. "I? I go, and--leave you?" He
seemed doubtful of her sanity.
"Yes." When he laughed shortly, Alaire cried: "Dave, you must!
Don't you see what I'm driving at? If he can't marry me, if he
finds you're gone and he can't lay hands on you, what can he do
but let me go? Dave dear, for my sake, for the sake of us both--"
"You're excited," he told her, and drew her to himself gently.
"Please! PLEASE!" she implored.
"You don't know that man," said Father O'Malley, with conviction.
But Alaire insisted, half hysterically now: "I do; that's just it,
I DO know him. He is planning the greatest things for himself, his
head is in the clouds, and he daren't do the things he used to do.
That's why I called in those women as witnesses. He can't put THEM
out of the way. With Dave gone I'll be safe. He can't ignore our
marriage. But otherwise--There's no telling what he may do. Why,
he'll kill you, Dave, as he killed Ed." She upturned a face
eloquent with pleading. "Won't you do this for me?"
"No!" Law declared, firmly. "You wouldn't ask it if you were in
your senses. Get me a gun and I'll shoot my way out. We'll go
until they stop us. But don't ask me to leave you."
She searched his face eagerly, piteously, then with a quivering
sigh relaxed her tension. "Then we've only made matters worse.
You've spoiled our only chance."
Father O'Malley, who had been lost in thought, spoke up again:
"Perhaps you will let me try my wits. But first, do I understand
that it was he who effected the death of--Mr. Austin?"
Dave recounted as coherently as he could the circumstances of Ed's
death, and told how he had learned, through Jose, of Longorio's
intentions. As the priest listened a spot of color grew in his
cheeks, his eyes glowed with indignation. He was about to make
known what was in his mind when Alaire raised her hand and in a
strained whisper exclaimed:
"'Sh-h! Listen!"
The heavy door of the hacienda creaked, a quick tread sounded on
the tiles, the door to the living-room was flung open, and
Longorio entered. He was hot and dusty from his ride, but with a
lover's impetuosity he had made straight for this lighted room.
For the briefest instant he balanced himself just inside the
portal, and the smile remained fixed upon his lips. Then his eyes
became ringed with white and he made a swift, catlike movement of
retreat. Plainly this was the supremest surprise of his lifetime,
and he seemed to doubt his senses. But he recovered quickly.
Thrusting his head forward, he demanded:
"What is this? You--and you?" He stared from Dave to the priest,
then back again.
They all spoke at once, but he heard only Alaire's words:
"He came to find me."
Pancho appeared in the doorway behind Longorio, saying, "I heard
you ride up, sir, so I ran to tell you about this fellow."
But the general cut him short. "Call your men, quick," he cried in
a voice that sent the soldier leaping back into the night.
Alaire was clinging to Dave, merely clutching him the tighter when
he tried to unclasp her hold. Her movement into the shelter of his
rival's arms infuriated Longorio, who uttered an exclamation and
fumbled uncertainly with his holster. But his fingers were clumsy.
He could not take his eyes from the pair, and he seemed upon the
point of rushing forward to tear them apart.
"Don't touch her! Don't--" he began, cursing in a high-pitched
voice. "God! What a reckoning!" Then he stamped his feet, he wrung
his hands, he called shrilly at the top of his voice: "Lieutenant!
Ho, Pancho! You fellows! Quickly!" Under the stress of his
excitement the feminine side of his character betrayed itself.
Alaire felt her newly made husband gather himself for a spring; he
was muttering to her to release him; he was trying to push her
aside, but she held fast with the strength of desperation.
"You can't harm us," she declared, flinging her words defiantly at
the Mexican. "You dare not. You are too late. Father O'Malley has
just married us."
Longorio uttered a peculiar, wordless cry of dismay; his mouth
fell open; his arms dropped; he went limp all over, paralyzed
momentarily by surprise and horror; his eyes protruded; he swayed
as if his sight had blurred.
"I said I'd never marry you," she rushed on, vibrantly. "This is
the man I love--the only man. Yes, and I've learned the truth
about you. I know who killed Mr. Austin."
Longorio did a very unexpected thing then; slowly, unconsciously,
as if the movement were the result of a half-forgotten training,
he crossed himself.
But now from the hall at his back came the pounding of boot-heels,
and a half dozen panting troopers tumbled through the door. He
waved them back and out into the hall again.
Father O'Malley, who had been trying to make himself heard,
stepped in front of the general and said, solemnly: "Take care
what you do, Longorio. I have married these people, and you can't
undo what I have done. We are American citizens. The laws of
civilization protect us."
The Mexican fought for his voice, then stammered: "You are my
priest; I brought you here. I offered to marry her. Now--you force
me to damn my soul." Turning his eyes wildly upon Alaire, he
shouted: "Too late, eh? You say I am too late! It seems that I am
barely in time."
Dave added his words to the others: "You are ten to one, but you
can't have her," he cried, defiantly. "Jose Sanchez confessed to
the murder of Mr. Austin, and told how you had got Mrs. Austin to
come here. The whole thing is known in Washington and Mexico City
by this time. The newspapers have it; everybody knows you are
keeping her as your prisoner, and that I have come for her. If she
is harmed, all Mexico, all the world, will know that you are worse
than a murderer."
Longorio reached behind his back and slammed the door in the faces
of his listening men.
"What is this? What did Jose confess?" he inquired, sharply.
"He swears you hired him."
"Bah! The word of a pelador."
In spite of the man's contemptuous tone Dave saw the expression in
his face and made a quick decision. "There's a limit to what you
dare to do, Longorio. I'm unarmed; I make no resistance, so there
is no excuse for violence. I surrender to you, and claim
protection for myself and my wife."
But Longorio was not to be tricked. "Good!" he cried,
triumphantly. "I have been looking forward to something like this,
and I shall give myself a great pleasure." He laid a hand upon the
doorknob, but before he could turn it the Catholic priest had him
by the arm, and with a strength surprising in one of his stature
wrenched him away. Father O'Malley's face was white and terrible;
his voice was deep, menacing; the hand he raised above Longorio
seemed to brandish a weapon.
"Stop!" he thundered. "Are you a madman? Destruction hangs over
you; destruction of body and soul. You dare not separate those
whom God hath joined."
"God! God!" the other shrilled. "I don't believe in Him. I am a
god; I know of no other."
"Blasphemer!" roared the little man. "Listen, then. So surely as
you harm these people, so surely do you kill your earthly
prospects. You, the first man of Mexico, the Dictator indeed!
Think what you are doing before it is too late. Is your dream of
greatness only a dream? Will you sacrifice yourself and all your
aspirations in the heat of this unholy and impossible passion?
Tonight, now, you must choose whether you will be famous or
infamous, glorious or shameful, honored or dishonored! Restrain
your hatred and conquer your lust, or forego for ever your dreams
of empire and pass into oblivion."
"You are a meddler," Longorio stormed. "You make a loud noise, but
I shall rid Mexico of your kind. We shall have no more of you
priests."
Father O'Malley shook the speaker as a parent shakes an unruly
child. "See! You have completely lost your head. But I want you to
listen to what I am saying. Whether you are more good than evil,
God must judge, but the people of Mexico are good people, and they
will not be ruled by a man who is wholly bad. You have the power
to remove this man and this woman, yes, and this priest who dares
to point out the pit at your feet; but if you do you will never
command another Mexican army. There is no war. We are not your
enemies. The world knows we are here, and it holds you accountable
for our safety. To-morrow you will have to face the reckoning."
Longorio listened. It was plain that he recognized the truth of
O'Malley's words, but he was convulsed with rage.
"Good!" he cried. "I see my dreams dissolve, but I am not the
first great man to trade an empire for a woman. Antony, the Roman
general, laid his honor in a woman's arms. I had a shining
destiny, but Mexico will be the sufferer by my betrayal. Instead
of Longorio the Deliverer, I shall be known as Longorio the Lover,
the man who gave all--"
O'Malley interrupted forcefully. "Enough of this! Come with me. I
have something more to say to you." He flung open the door into
the hall and, taking the general by the arm, fairly dragged him
from the room and into the one opposite. The lieutenant and his
men looked on in amazement, shuffling their feet and shifting
their rifle butts noisily upon the floor.
Alaire turned an anxious face to Dave, saying: "He is wonderful.
Longorio is almost--afraid of him."
"Yes; he may bring him to his senses. If he doesn't--" Dave cast
his eyes desperately over the room, conscious all the time that he
was being watched with suspicion by the men outside. He stirred
restlessly and moistened his lips. "Longorio would be crazy to
injure you."
Ten minutes passed; fifteen. Alaire leaned, motionless, against
the table; Dave paced about, followed by the eyes of the soldiers.
One of the latter struck a match, and in the silence it sounded
like a gunshot. Dave started, at which the soldiers laughed. They
began to talk in murmurs. The odor of cigarette smoke drifted in
to the man and the woman.
Finally the door through which Father O'Malley and Longorio had
passed opened, and the priest emerged. He was alone. His face was
flushed and damp; his eyes were glowing. He forced the Mexicans
out of his way and, entering the living-room, closed the door
behind him.
"Well?" his two friends questioned, anxiously.
"I've done all I can. The rest is out of our hands." The little
man sat down heavily and mopped his forehead.
"What does he say?"
"He told me to come here and wait. I never saw a man so torn, so
distracted."
"Then he is wavering. Oh-h!" Alaire clasped her hands in
thanksgiving, but the Father cautioned her:
"Don't be too sanguine. He is not afraid of consequences. He
appears to have no conscience. He is without mercy and seems lost
to shame. I have never met a man quite like him. Do you know what
he feels at this moment? Chagrin. Yes, mortification raised to the
highest pitch, and a sort of stupefaction that you should prefer
another man to him. He can't understand your lack of taste."
Father O'Malley smiled faintly.
"Conceited idiot," Dave growled.
"His humiliation kills him. When I saw that it was useless to
appeal to him on moral grounds, and that threats were unavailing,
I took another course. Something gave me insight into his mind,
and the power to talk as I have never talked before. All in a
flash I saw the man's soul laid bare before me, and--I think I
played upon it with some cunning. I don't remember all I said, for
I was inspired, but I appealed to his vanity and to his conceit,
and as I went along I impressed upon him, over and over, the fact
that the world knows we are here and that it trusts him. He
aspires to the Presidency; he believes he is destined to be
Mexico's Dictator; so I painted a picture that surpassed his own
imaginings. He would have been suspicious of mere flattery, so I
went far beyond that and inflamed him with such extravagant
visions as only a child or an unblushing egotist like him could
accept. I swelled his vanity; I inflated his conceit. For a
moment, at least, I lifted him out of himself and raised him to
the heights."
From beyond the closed door came Longorio's voice, issuing some
command to his men. A moment passed; then he appeared before the
three Americans. He seemed taller, thinner, more erect and
hawklike than ever. His head was held more proudly and his chest
was fuller. A set, disdainful smile was graven upon his face.
He began by addressing his words directly to Alaire. "Senora," he
said, "I am a man of deep feeling and I scorn deceit. Therefore I
offer no apology for my recent display of emotion. If I have
seemed to press my advances with undue fervor, it is because, at
heart, I am as great a lover as I am a statesman or a soldier. But
there are other things than love. Nature constituted me a leader,
and he who climbs high must climb alone. I offered Chapultepec as
a shrine for your beauty. I offered to share Mexico with you, and
I told you that I would not be content with less than all of you.
Well I meant it. Otherwise--I would take you now." His voice
throbbed with a sudden fierce desire, and his long, lean hands
closed convulsively. "You must realize that I have the courage and
the power to defy the world, eh?" He seemed to challenge denial of
this statement, but, receiving none, he went on, fixing his
brilliant, feverish eyes once more upon Alaire. "As a man of
sentiment I am unique; I am different from any you have ever
known. I would not possess a flower without its fragrance. You did
not believe me when I told you that, but I am going to prove it.
All your life you are going to think of me as heroic. Perhaps no
patriot in history ever made a more splendid sacrifice for his
country than I make now. Some day the world will wonder how I had
the strength to put aside love and follow the path of duty."
Alaire trusted herself to ask, "Then we are free to go?"
The general's face was swept by a grimace intended for a smile. "I
have ordered your horses to be saddled."
Dave, who had with difficulty restrained his anger at the fellow's
bombast, was upon the point of speaking when Father O'Malley took
the words out of his mouth:
"Would you send this woman out of her own house into a country
like--like this? Remember the fortune in cattle you have already
taken--"
Longorio broke in with a snarl: "Is it my fault that the country
is in arms? Military necessity compels me to remain here. I
consider myself magnanimous. I--" His voice cracked, and he made a
despairing, violent gesture. "Go, before I change my mind."
Dave signaled to the others, and Alaire slipped away to make
herself ready. During the uncomfortable silence which succeeded
her departure, Longorio paced the room, keeping his eyes
resolutely turned away from Law.
"Do you mean that I, too, may go?" O'Malley inquired.
"What good are you to me?" snapped the general.
"You will give us safe conduct?"
"Be still, priest!" Longorio glared at the speaker, clasping and
unclasping his fists behind his back.
With the sound of hoofs outside, Alaire and Dolores appeared, and
the Mexican straightened himself with an effort.
"Adios, senora!" he said, with a stiff bow. "We have had a
pleasant friendship and a thrilling flirtation, eh? I shall never
cease to regret that Fate interrupted at such an interesting
moment. Adios! Adios!" He bowed formally, in turn to Dave and to
the priest, then resumed his pacing, with his hands at his back
and his brow furrowed as if in a struggle with affairs of greater
moment than this.
But when he heard the outside door creak shut behind them his
indifference vanished and he halted with head turned in an effort
to catch the last sounds of their departure. His face was like
tallow now, his lips were drawn back from his teeth as if in
supreme agony. A moment and the hoofbeats had died away. Then
Longorio slipped his leash.
He uttered a cry--a hoarse, half-strangled shriek that tore his
throat. He plucked the collar from his neck as if it choked him;
he beat his breast. Seizing whatever article his eye fell upon, he
tore and crushed it; he swept the table clean of its queer Spanish
bric-a-brac, and trampled the litter under his heels. Spying a
painting of a saint upon the wall, he ran to it, ripped it from
its nail, and, raising it over his head, smashed frame and glass,
cursing all saints, all priests, and churchly people. Havoc
followed him as he raged about the place wreaking his fury upon
inanimate objects. When he had well-nigh wrecked the contents of
the room, and when his first paroxysm had spent its violence, he
hurled himself into a chair, writhing in agony. He bit his wrists,
he pounded his fists, he kicked; finally he sprawled full length
upon the floor, clawing at the cool, smooth tiles until his nails
bled.
"Christ! O Christ!" he screamed.
The sound of his blasphemies reached the little group of soldiers
who had lingered curiously outside, and they listened open-
mouthed. One by one they crossed themselves and stole away into
the darkness, muttering.
More
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Under the willows at the edge of the pool a young girl sat daydreaming, though the day was nearly done. All in the valley was wrapped in shadow, though the cliffs and turrets across the stream were resplendent in a radiance of slanting sunshine. N... The Midnight Searching Party
The night was growing late and there were anxious hearts at "Roderick's." The four-in-hand had arrived hours before, and Silent Pete had also brought his party safely in--to the mutual relief of himself and Miss Milliken, the latter really surpris... The Midnight Visitor
Toy raised his head sharply from his little flat pillow where he lay in his tent, pitched for convenience beside the kitchen, and listened. A sound like the cautious scraping of the sagging storehouse door on the other side of the kitchen had awak... The Mill-wheel Of Steers
Meantime, at the ranch, when Judkins's news had sent Venters on the trail of the rustlers, Jane Withersteen led the injured man to her house and with skilled fingers dressed the gunshot wound in his arm. "Judkins, what do you think ... The Moon The Maid And The Winged Shoes
The last place I locked wheels with Mike Butters was in Idaho. I'd just sold a silver-lead prospect and was proclaimin' my prosperity with soundin' brass and ticklin' symbols. I was tuned up to G and singin' quartettes with the bartender--opery bu... The Morgan Hills
Once out of Rickett, Barry pulled the stallion back to an easy canter. He had camped during the latter part of the night near the town and ridden in in the morning, so that Satan was full of running. He rebelled now against this easy pace, and tosse... The Mountain Trail
As Stewart departed from one door Florence knocked upon another; and Madeline, far shaken out of her usual serenity, admitted the cool Western girl with more than gladness. Just to have her near helped Madeline to get back her balance. She was consc... The Mourners At San Francisco
The telegraph operator at the Golden Gate of San Francisco had long since given up hope of the Excelsior. During the months of September and October, 1854, stimulated by the promised reward, and often by the actual presence of her owners, he had s... The Mourners At Todos Santos
There was a breath of spring in the soft morning air of Todos Santos--a breath so subtle and odorous that it penetrated the veil of fog beyond the bay, and for a moment lingered on the deck of a passing steamer like an arresting memory. But only f... The Mule Driver And The Garrulous Mute
Bill had finished panning the concentrates from our last clean-up, and now the silver ball of amalgam sizzled and fried on the shovel over the little chip-fire, while we smoked in the sun before the cabin. Removed from the salivating fumes of the q... The Muleshoe
The riders of the Muleshoe outfit were eating breakfast when Bud rode past the long, low-roofed log cabin to the corral which stood nearest the clutter of stables and sheds. He stopped there and waited to see if his new boss was anywhere in sight an... The Murder On The Beach
At this moment the cook stuck his head in at the open door. "Say, you fellows," he complained, "I got to be up at three o'clock. Ain't you never going to turn in?" "Shut up, Doctor!" "Somebody kill him!" "Here, sit down and listen to this yar... The Music
To the last ravine Kate's horse carried her easily enough, but that mountain pass was impenetrable through all its length to anything except the uncanny agility of Satan, and so she left the cow-pony in the bottom of the gorge and climbed the last r... The Mysterious Motor-car
Buck took to Jim Tenny at once. There was something about this long, lean, brown-faced foreman of the Rocking-R, with his clear gray eyes and that half-humorous twist to his thin lips, which inspired not only confidence but liking as well. He list... The New Alliance
"And so," said Lee Haines, when he joined Buck Daniels in the living-room, "there goes our reinforcements. That whole crew will scatter like dead leaves when Barry breezes in. It looks to me--" "Shut up!" cut in Daniels. "Shut up!" His dark, ho... The New Assistant At Pine Clearing School
CHAPTER I. The schoolmistress of Pine Clearing was taking a last look around her schoolroom before leaving it for the day. She might have done so with pride, for the schoolroom was considered a marvel of architectural elegance by the citizens... The New Foreman
Toward the end of the week Stillwell informed Madeline that Stewart had arrived at the ranch and had taken up quarters with Nels. "Gene's sick. He looks bad," said the old cattleman. "He's so weak an' shaky he can't lift a cup. Nels says that Gene... The New Master
Right in front of the school door, and some little distance from it, in the midst of a clump of maples, stood an old beech-tree with a dead top, and half-way down where a limb had once been and had rotted off, a hole. Inside this hole two very res... The Newspaper Clew
"Do you think he'll catch that fellow?" It was Phil who asked the question, as he and Dave and Roger watched the old miner disappear around a bend of the back trail. "I don't know about that," returned Dave. "But if he gets the horses back it... The Night Herd
By the time the Hardy faction had given up the chase in disgust, Caldwell, White, and Scotty had joined Tip and the Texan some miles below Midway on the Chisholm Trail. The former three were jubilant over their unexpected release from the fire trap... The North Wind's Malice
It had snowed during the night, but toward morning it had grown cold; now the sled-runners complained and the load dragged heavily. Folsom, who had been heaving at the handle-bars all the way up the Dexter Creek hill, halted his dogs at the crest ... The Oasis
AUGUST NAAB'S oasis was an oval valley, level as a floor, green with leaf and white with blossom, enclosed by a circle of colossal cliffs of vivid vermilion hue. At its western curve the Colorado River split the red walls from north to south. When... The Old Hunter
I ran till I got a stitch in my side, and then slowed down to a dog-trot. The one thing to do was to get a long way ahead of my pursuers, for surely at the outset they would stick like hounds to my trail. A mile or more below the gorge I took to ... The Old Sheep-herder
The ranger was awakened in the first faint dawn by the passing of the girl's light feet as she went across the hall to her mother's room, and a moment later he heard the low murmur of her voice. Throwing off his blankets and making such scant toil...