has.--He owes,"
the man added in a kind of pride, "thirty reales, my nephew Felipe
does."

But his wiles failed. The rich senor turned toward the colonnade, his
sailor's easy swing giving way to a tread of determination. Also, the
pure flame burned consumingly.

From the top of the steps, between files of dismounted Dragoons,
Maximilian looked over the people, beyond, in some far away gaze of the
spirit.

Jacqueline hid the golden gleam of her hair under the rebosa.
"Silencium!" she whispered, laying a finger across her lips. "For now
we'll have the mountains to frisk, and the little hills to skip. In all
the Orient there blooms no flower of eloquence like unto his."

The monarch's inspired look promised as much. "Mexicans," he began. The
peons huddled closer, their responsive natures quickened. His sonorous
voice was electrical, despite an accent, despite the German over-gush of
stammering when words could not keep pace with the vast idea. But the
one word of address gave the peons a dignity they had never suspected.

"Mexicans: you have desired me. Acceding to the spontaneous expression
of your wishes, I have come to your noble country--our dear patria--to
watch over and direct your destinies. And with me came one who feels for
you all the tenderness of a mother, who is your Empress and my August
Spouse."

"But not," murmured the sententious lady of the rebosa, "august enough
to appear before Him unless He sends for Her."

Proceeding, the speaker solemnly told them of his divine right as a
Hapsburg, as one of the Caesars, and of his anointment by the Vicar of
God at Rome, so that to God alone was he responsible. As a Mexican he
gloried with them in their liberties, in the True Liberty he brought,
for had not the Holy Father said to him, "Great are the rights of a
people, but greater and more sacred are the rights of the Church?" Hence
he burned with Heaven-given fire to lift them, his subjects, into the
vanguard of Nineteenth Century Progress.

Here Maximilian paused mid cheers, and thinking on his next words, his
delicate hand of a gentleman clenched.

"Mexicans," he began again, now in the vibrant tone of an overpowering
emotion. "I pray to fulfil the mission for which God has placed me here.
There are six millions of you, a sober and industrious race. Cortez
found you so, and you astounded him with your civilization. But the
conditions that followed have enslaved you. Enslaved, I repeat, for you
are bou