this may
do," and the ranchero drew a paper from his money belt and handed it to
Jacqueline. The paper was an order addressed to one Captain Maurel, who
was to proceed with his company to the district of Tampico, and there to
take and to shoot the guerrilla thief, Rodrigo Galan, and all his band,
who infested the district aforesaid, known as the Huasteca. The Captain
Maurel would take note that this Rodrigo Galan frequented the very city
of Tampico itself, with an impudence to be punished at all hazards.
Signed: Dupin, Colonel of His Majesty's Contra Guerrillas.
"Colonel Dupin?" Jacqueline repeated with a wry mouth. Dupin, the
Contra-Guerrilla chief, was a brave Frenchman. But the quality of his
mercy had made his name a shudder on the lips of all men, his own
countrymen included.
"Yes," said Fra Diavolo between his teeth, "Mi Coronel Dupin--the
Tiger."
"So he is called, I know," said Jacqueline. "And you, it appears, are
Captain Maurel--Maurel, but that is French?"
"The way it is spelled on the paper, yes. But my Coronel, being French,
made a mistake. He should have written it 'Morel.'"
"No matter," said Jacqueline, "for you are only a trite, conventional
officer, after all. But how much merrier it would be if you
were--were----" and suddenly she leaned over the paper and placed an
impetuous finger on the bandit's name. "So," she continued wistfully,
"there is no danger. We ride, we take a stage. It is tame. I say it is
tame, monsieur!"
Captain Maurel, or Morel, desired to add that there was a trader who
owned an hacienda in the interior, and that this trader was starting for
his plantation the very next morning; all of which was very convenient,
because the trader had extra horses, and he, Captain Morel, had a
certain influence with the trader. The senorita's party could travel
with his friend's caravan as far as the stage.
"Voila!" cried Jacqueline. "It is arranged!"
"Diable, it is not!" Michel was on his feet again.
His wayward charge looked him over reflectively. "Our Mars in his baby
clothes again," said she, as a fond, despairing mother with an
incorrigible child.
The Mexican had shown himself hostile and ready. But seeing Jacqueline's
coolness he melted out of his somewhat theatrical bristling, lest her
sarcasm veer toward himself.
The tempestuous Mars, however, was beyond the range of scorn. He kept
one stubborn purpose before him. "We go back to the ship, or"--he took
breath where he
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