our conscientious defenders, chosen from
Republican jurists, two of whom were then in San Luis to do what they
might before Juarez. The other two spent eloquence and acumen on the
court's seven tawny brows. Their first point came from Maximilian
himself. It was complacent, this point. The naivete of it was superb.

"I am no longer Emperor," so the defense ran, "nor was I during the
siege; because, before leaving the capital, I drew up my abdication,
which was then countersigned by my ministers. However, it was not to
take effect until I should fall prisoner."

When the Republic recovered her breath, she felt in her amusement a
wounded pride. This prince must think her very simple. So, she was to
recognize the usurper's abdication after she had fought and suffered to
take the usurper? A captured thief draws from his pockets a quit-claim
deed to the plunder he has stolen, and giving it to the court, would
therefore go free! The tragedy changed for a spell to comic opera. And
matters were not helped greatly when next were invoked "the immunities
and privileges which pertain under any and all circumstances to an
archduke of Austria."

Though handicapped by their client's arrogance, counsel yet did their
utmost. They argued law and humanity, with tremulo effects. They prayed
that "the greatest of victories be crowned by the greatest of pardons."
But it was of no use. The bloodthirsty stripling persisted in the
Republic's name. This Maximiliano was a Mexican. In many beautiful
speeches the said Maximiliano had said so. Hence he could not evade
responsibility to the laws of his adopted country. And there was, for
instance, the law of 1862 concerning treason.

Well, in a word, the three accused were straightway sentenced to death;
and Escobedo, approving, named Sunday, June 16th, for the execution. It
might be mentioned of this Escobedo that on two former occasions, when
the circumstances were exactly reversed, Mejia had each time saved his
life. Since Queretaro, there have been comments on the vigor of
Escobedo's memory.

"Poor pliant Prince Max," sighed Jacqueline, "he is still being
influenced to stay in Mexico! Come, Berthe, we must make all speed to
San Luis and see the Presidente."

* * * * *

In the long hall of the Palacio Municipal at San Luis Potosi, before the
old-fashioned desk there, sat an Indian. He was low and squat and
pock-marked, and there was an ugly scar, l