Chapter X. A Barbaric Ordeal

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　When Paul awoke the next morning just after daylight, he did notfeel very good. Accustomed all his life to fresh air andinfinite spaces, the close, hot little log house oppressed him.His head felt heavy and his lungs choked. Jim felt likewise andmade audible complaint, but the door was soon opened, and againit was Luiz and a comrade with food.

　　"Luiz, you ain't no beauty an' you can't talk a real decentlanguage," said Long Jim, "but I'm pow'ful glad to see you."

　　The words were foreign to Luiz, but he understood Long Jim'stone. He smiled and showed his white teeth, but when his glancefell upon Paul he became sad. Then he looked quickly away. Hedid not wish either Paul or his comrade to read anything in thatglance. Luiz did not have a bad heart and he was troubled.

　　When they had eaten their breakfast, Luiz put his hand onPaul's shoulder, and pointed to the door, beckoning also to LongJim. His manner indicated plainly that they were to leave theprison.

　　"All right, pardner," said Long Jim. "You won't have to gitno pole to pry me out uv this place."

　　Luiz led the way and the two followed gladly. The air wascrisper and fresher than usual, and to both of them it feltdivine. They inhaled deep breaths, and thought that the worldhad never looked so beautiful. What a golden sunrise! What ablue sky! What magnificent green woods off there under thehorizon! They felt strength and courage rushing back in a flood.

　　"Which way now, Mr. Spaniard?" said Long Jim. "Has yourcaptain repented, an' does he want to give us the finest rooms inhis house? I can't say that we liked the tavern he made us stopat last night."

　　Luiz shook his head, either to signify that he did notunderstand or that there was no reply, and led the way down anarrow path shut in on either side with magnolias and cypresses.The little group of soldiers enclosed Paul and Long Jim, but alltheir glances were for the boy, none for the man.

　　The enclosed path led on for two or three hundred yards.Paul now and then caught glimpses through the trees of thechateau or a passing face, and he heard a low murmur that seemedto be the hum of many voices.

　　The path ended presently at a gate in a high board wall, andboth gate and wall were thick and strong. Here a Spaniarddressed like a minor officer was waiting, and began to unlock thegate.

　　"Now what under the sun can they be about?" asked Long Jim,to whom all this seemed very strange. "Are they goin' to tie usup in a pen?"

　　The heavy gate was unlocked and swung open a foot or so.Two soldiers suddenly seized Long Jim and pulled him back, whileanother thrust Paul into the open space. The officer put in hishand a sword - the very one with which he had wounded Alvarez,Paul's fingers closing mechanically over the hilt. Then theyshoved Paul inside, and quickly closed and locked the gate behindhim. But the last look that Luiz had bent upon the boy was oneof pity and sympathy.

　　Paul staggered with the force of the push that the men hadgiven him, and for a moment or two he was dazed, but eye andbrain alike cleared as a great shout arose. Then he beheld anextraordinary scene.

　　The boy stood within a ring fence enclosing a circular spaceperhaps thirty yards across, free from grass, and trodden hard.The fence was of boards only about half way around, the rest ofit being made of strong parallel bars about two feet apart andfastened to posts. At the far side a rude log stable seemed toopen into it. The place might have been intended as a breakingground for horses but Paul did not have time to think.

　　Facing him, just outside the fence and sitting on a hastilyconstructed wooden seat was Francisco Alvarez, still in hisfinest uniform. Beside him was Braxton Wyatt, also in a Spanishuniform, and all about them on either side, wherever the fencewas made of parallel bars and open to see, clustered the mob,soldiers, laborers, servants, white faces, black faces, yellowfaces, brown faces, straight hair, curly hair, and kinky hair,French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Indians, negroes, and manymixtures, every one eager and tense, and every eye bent upon Paulwho stood, back to the gate, holding the sword in his hand, butunconscious that he held it.

　　What was this mummery? Why was he a spectacle for that mob?All the blood rushed to Paul's head and the little pulses in histemples began to beat like hammers. He looked at Alvarez, butthe Spaniard had turned his face into a stony mask, and he couldread no meaning there. Then he looked at Braxton Wyatt, and therenegade's countenance plainly expressed malignity and triumph.The great shout that greeted the entrance of Paul died away to asilence so heavy that it seemed ominous. Then Francisco Alvarezlooked toward the wooden building, at the far side of the ring,and raised his hand. A gate there was thrown open, and a man,sword in hand, strolled lazily out. Again a tremendous shoutarose, and the mob pressed closer to the bars, those in frontsitting on the grass and those behind standing up in order thatthey might look over them.

　　Francisco Alvarez raised his hand a second time, andinstantly there was silence once more. He was like a feudal lorddispensing justice in the open air before all his retainers.

　　"Kaintock," he called in a loud voice, "since you are soexpert with the sword, we give you another chance to display yourskill. Defend yourself from this champion."

　　Again the approving shout of the mob arose, and Paul lookedacross the ring, where the swordsman had come forth.

　　The man was of great size, and his whole appearance remindedPaul of the ancient gladiators of whom he had read. He seemed tobe a West Indian of Spanish descent, very dark and with immenseshoulders. He wore a red shirt, which added to his strange andsavage appearance. He carried in his hand a long sword, muchlonger than Paul's and when he faced the lad he suddenly graspedthe hilt of his weapon in both hands and twirled it about untilit made a glittering circle. The crowd set up a shout, but Paulfelt chilled through and through.

　　"I have no quarrel with this man," he called to Alvarez,"and I will not fight him."

　　"You have no choice," replied Alvarez, and the more savagein the crowd, who wished to see barbaric sport, shouted theirapproval. But some were silent. Long Jim struggled with fourmen, and exclaimed, "It's murder! He's only a boy!" But the fourheld him fast.

　　The swordsman, grinning in the certainty of easy triumph,advanced upon Paul.

　　Now Paul understood. He was there to furnish sport,terrible, deadly sport, and he must fight if he would savehimself. As Alvarez truly said, no choice was left to him. Ifhe sprang for the barrier they would thrust him back, and thatwas not a thing to be endured.

　　Francisco Alvarez, spurred on by the sting of his wound, andurged, too, by Braxton Wyatt, who was mad for the deed the momenthe heard of it, had done this wicked thing. The strain ofcruelty in his nature, inherited perhaps, from far-off ancestorswho had looked upon pitiless games in the arena in the Romancities in Spain, was completely in control.

　　"It is better than I thought," he said to Braxton Wyatt."The ring serves the purpose well. We shall have some royalsport if Kaintock will but fight."

　　"He will fight," said Braxton Wyatt.

　　The swordsman advanced upon Paul and thrust with his shiningblade. Paul felt intuitively that he was a master of the weapon,reinforced, too, by enormous strength. He, a boy, would have butlittle chance. Yet he parried the thrust and replied with one ofhis own that flashed dangerously near the man's side. The crowdagain shouted approval, but as before some were silent Long Jimmade another effort to drag himself loose, but he could not. Themen held him. Nevertheless, he repeated his cry: "It's murder!He's only a boy!"

　　The rapid interchange of thrust and parry followed, and theswordsman grew angry. He was there not only to furnish sport,but to have it also for himself. He did not like to be held backby one over whom he had thought victory so easy. Suddenly heexerted his full strength and broke through Paul's guard. Thelad felt his left shoulder and arm seared as if by a great flame,and, with a cry that he could not repress, he dropped back.

　　The swordsman, too, stepped back, sure now of his triumph.The shout came from the crowd once more, but only from a part ofit, and brave, faithful Long Jim closed his eyes that he mightnot see what would follow.

　　The elated swordsman held up his weapon as one would abanner. It was a broad blade like a cutlass and it glittered inthe brilliant sunlight. The next moment there was the sound of ashot, the man uttered a cry of pain, although himself untouched,and the sword, broken in several pieces, fell to the ground. Ithad been shot from his hand with a rifle bullet.

　　Long Jim, opening his eyes, uttered a cry of joy and HenryWare, smoking rifle in hand, pressed his way through the crowd,which he had entered unnoticed in the excitement.

　　Francisco Alvarez sprang to his feet in anger. Not for,some moments did he see the figure of the one who fired the shot,and even then he did not know who it was. But Braxton Wyatt knewHenry Ware at once, and he was resolved that he should notescape.

　　"Seize him! seize him!" cried the renegade. "He is the mostdangerous of them all!

　　But Henry offered no resistance, as the soldiers rushedtoward him, quietly surrendering his rifle. Tom Ross, who wasbehind him, angrily threw back the crowd and would have fought,but Henry said:

　　"Give up, Tom, it's best for the present."

　　Henry's eyes were upon his comrade who had been subjected tosuch treatment. Paul stood erect, but there were stains on hisshoulder, and he was pale and weak.

　　"Look to him," said Henry threateningly to Francisco Alvarezwho was approaching. "It is an outrage of which the GovernorGeneral of Louisiana shall know."

　　Alvarez flushed. He felt now slight prickings of theconscience and of apprehension. It was indeed a wicked deed thathe had done, but he had no mind to be bearded by another fromKaintock.

　　"He will receive the proper attention," he said, "but youare my prisoner, and so is this man who has just been taken withyou. I tell you, too, that I am in supreme command here, and Itake the responsibility for all my acts."

　　Braxton Wyatt had crowded near, but Henry and Tom refused tonotice him. Luiz went into the ring and led Paul away, bindingup his shoulder where the flesh was cut, although the hurt wasnot serious.

　　"Take their arms and put them all in the same prison," saidAlvarez to one of his officers and the four were escorted to thelog house which Paul and Long Jim had left not long before.

　　"Our plan has been marked by some success after all," saidAlvarez to Braxton Wyatt. "It has drawn two more into ourhands."

　　"There is a fifth," said Braxton Wyatt. "The one they callShif'less Sol, and we have not got him. As long as a single oneof them is free we are in danger."

　　The Spaniard laughed.

　　"You exaggerate their powers," he said. "We have nothing tofear from one wandering hunter."

　　"But this man, Shif'less Sol, is full of cunning," saidBraxton Wyatt.

　　The Spaniard's only reply was to hold his head a littlehigher. It was his plan now to assume his haughtiest manner.The little fear that he had done wrong, that his act in forcingPaul into the ring against a professional swordsman, a gladiatoras it were, was medieval, and that harm might come to him fromit, clung to him. But pride bade him never to show it.

　　As he and Braxton Wyatt went into the Chateau of Beaulieu,the doors of the log prison closed upon the four comrades. Paul,under the care of Luiz, reached it first but the others were justbehind. Paul sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Theothers bent tenderly over him. But Paul looked up at them andsmiled.

　　"It isn't much," he said. "The sword only grazed me. Myclothing saved me from a bad cut. But I wish you boys, whateverhappens, would remember that Spaniard, Luiz. He's been kind tome."

　　"We'll do it," said Henry. "I don't know what will come ofall this, Paul, but I feel sure that we'll succeed."

　　"Of course," said Paul, "but you came just in time, and thatwas a great shot of yours."

　　"We were in the woods," said Henry, "and we saw the crowdgathering. We knew some mischief was afoot, and they were soeager on it that we came up unnoticed. I wanted Tom to stayback, but he was afraid he would be needed."

　　"And Shif'less Sol?" said Paul. "Where is he?"

　　Henry laughed.

　　"The shiftless one is about the shiftiest man in thewilderness," he replied. "Do you suppose that he would ever walkinto a trap, when there was nothing inside the trap worth therisk? Didn't he know that Tom and I were sufficient for any taskthat might be ahead of us this morning?"

　　Paul laughed, too, and the others were glad to see the colorcoming back into his face.

　　"Good old Sol," he said, "I'm glad he didn't come too. He'ssomewhere out there in the woods, and he's the one link betweenus and Kentucky. "We'll be sure to hear from him."

　　They talked of their plans, but for the time, they could seeno way. Shif'less Sol might go on alone to New Orleans, but itneeded the presence of the five to be convincing.

　　"He wouldn't go anyhow," said Paul. "Sol would never leaveus here."

　　Luiz brought them food and water at noon, and then they wereleft again to themselves.