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Philip Nolan's friends :a story of the c

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Philip Nolan's Friends

A STORY

OF THE CHANGE OF

WESTERN EMPIRE.

BY
,.<^
EDWARD E. HALE,
Author op "A Man without a Country," "Ups and Downs," "The Brick
Moon," and " SybaRis."

NEW YORK:
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANY.
1877.
 Copyright, 1876, |

By SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, & CO.

Stereotyped and printed dy

Rand^ Avery^ and Company^

117 Franklin Street,
Boston.
 PREFACE.

The silence of our historians on the subject of the annexation

of Louisiana to the United States, or their indifference, is very
curious. perhaps even necessary to explain to the general
It is
reader of to-day, that the " annexation of Louisiana " was the
annexation of all that the United States holds west of the Missis-
sippi, excepting the province of Alaska, and the regions secured by
the Mexican war and consequent negotiation with Mexico. The
standard histories, when they speak of the annexation, allude to
the -final debates in Congress and the history of the negotiation,
;

as given by Marbois, the French negotiator, is sometimes con-

densed. But little more is said. Yet it is the annexation of Lou-
isiana which makes the United States of to-day to be one of the
great powers. Without the immense region then known as Louisi-
ana, no Pacific coast, no California, —
no " empire from ocean to
ocean."
I suppose it is safe to say that the Federalists had attacked
the purchase so eagerly, that they were afraid their attack would
be remembered. Of the distinguished Western men, the separate
plan^had been so diverse, sometimes so treasonable, that their
representatives have not dwelt much on the story. On Mr. Jeffer-
son's part, I think there was an uneasy feeling that the credit was
none of his. The truth is, that the credit — so far as there is any
to be given to one man —
of this great transaction, which makes the
United States what it is, is to be given to Napoleon Bonaparte. I
mean that he originated the plan which was carried out, which no
one else had proposed and he is the only public character who
;

had to do with it, who seems to have had, at the time, any clear
sense of its importance, or of the results which would follow.
The belligerent operations of John Adams's administration are
4 PREFACE.

always spoken of by the historians as aimed at France. They

were so spoken of at the time, in print. Twelve regiments of
infantry and one of cavaby were authorized to serve " during the
continuance of the existing differences with the French republic."
A considerable part of these regiments was raised. The recruits
— to fight against France —
were assembled at our ports on the
Ohio and Mississippi that is, they were removed so far from
;

any points where they could be used against France. The boats
which were to take them down the river, to take Orleans, a Span-
ish post, were built and were in readiness. I have read the manu-

script correspondence between Hamilton, the acting commander of

the new army, and Wilkinson, the commander on the Ohio, with
reference to this proposed attack on Orleans. Wilkinson himself
made a visit to Hamilton, to adjust the details of the campaign.

This mine was ready to be sprung upon poor Spain, when the
republic of the United States should make war with " the French
republic." >

Two fortunate or unfortunate events, in which the War Office

has been destroyed by fire, have put an end to many of the docu-
ments which once described the details of these preparations. In
those days governments did not discount their victories, nor state
their plans in advance in the journals. And so John Adams's ex-
pedition against the Spanish town of Orleans goes into history as
a part of the " French War."
I felt owed something to the memory of Philip Nolan,
that I
whose name once took unguardedly for the name of a hero of
I

my own creation, who was supposed to live at another time. The

part which the real Philip Nolan played in our history is far more
important than that of many a man who has statues raised in his
honor. So far as careful work among the memorials of his life
would serve, I have tried to rescue him from the complete oblivion
which hangs over him. He was murdered by the Spanish Govern-
ment, who dishonored their own passport for his murder. Were
such an event possible now, war within an hour would be the con-
sequence. In the recent case of the " Virginius," the most angry
of Cuban sympathizers did not pretend that there had been any
such violation of the right of nations. But Spain was strong
then, and America was weak, and Mr. Jefferson was " pacific.''
America is now strong, and Spain is weak, — how strong, and
how weak, the story of the " Virginius " showed. If we trace
 PREFACE. 5

events to their unconscious causes, we may say that no single day

has done so much to make America strong, and to make Spain
weak, as that day in 1801, when a Spanish ofScer, under his king's
commission, murdered Philip Nolan, bearing the same king's pass-
port for his lawful adventure.
The documents which illustrate this history, in the archives of
San Antonio and of Austin, are very numerous. To the cordial
assistance of the ofScers of every name, who have helped me to find
and use them, I am greatly indebted. To Mr. Quintero, who gave
me the fuU use of his rich collections in the archives of Monterey,
which I have not visited, I have tried to express my obligations.
But, indeed, I have received so much kind help in the preparation

of this little book, from a thousand friends in the South and West,
that I cannot thank them all by name. My readers owe it to
them, if they gain any new light on our history, as they follow the
adventures of Philip Nolan's Friends.
Edward E. Hale.
[Link], Mass., Nov. 6, 1876.
 CONTENTS.
—*—
CHAPTER. PAGB.

I. A Parting ii
II. A Meeting 22
III. Philip Nolan 32
IV. " Show your Passports " 1
42
v. Save me from my Friends 53
VI. GOOD-BY 63
VII. The San Antonio Road 74
VIII. The Dressed Day 90
IX. Talking and Walking 104
X. Life on the Brassos 119
XI. Rumors of Wars 129
XII. "Love waits and weeps" 136
XIII. Night and Day 151
XIV. A Packet of Letters 159
XV. Courts and Camps '
167
XVI. News ? What News ? 173
XVII. Mines and Counter-Mines 189
XVIII. Will Harrod's Fortunes 195
XIX. The Warning 203
XX. A Tertulia 213
XXI. " The Man I hate " 223
XXII. Battle 234
XXIII. At San Antonio 241
XXIV. "I must go Home" 248
XXV. Countermarch 256
XXVI. Homeward Bound 267
XXVIL Home as found 277
7
8 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGB.

XXVIII. General Bowles 284

XXIX. " Where shall she go ? " 290
XXX. Mother and Child "
298
XXXI. On the Plantation 303
XXXII. The Desolate Home 310
XXXIIL- Alone 319
XXXIV. All Will be Well 329
XXXV. Savage Life 337
XXXVI. In Prison, and ye visited me . . . .
347
XXXVII. Face to Face 356
XXXVIII. What Next? 367
XXXIX. A Family Dinner 386
 ILLUSTRATIONS.

— «

PAGB
" He stood watching the receding Boat " . . Frontispiece.

The Language of Pantomime 67

Inez has an Adventure 114

"They took Master One-Eye, and tied him to a tree" . 127

The Interview with Crooked Feather 191

 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;
OR, SHOW YOUR tASSPORTS.

CHAPTER I.

A PARTING.
" Oh saw ye not fair Inez ?
I

She has gone into the West,

To dazzle when the sun is down,
And rob the world of rest."
Thomas Hood.
"Good-by!"
" Good-by, papa ; " and the poor girl waved her handker-
chief, and broke into tears, though she had held up perfectly
till now.
" Tirez " cried Sancho, the blackest of
!
all possible black
men ; and he shook his crew of twenty willing
fist at his
rowers, almost as black as he. The men gave way heartily,
and in good time ; the boat shot out from the levee, and in a
few minutes Inez could no longer see her father's handker-
chief, nor he hers. Still he stood watching the receding boat,

till it was quite lost among the crowd of flat-boats and other

vessels in the river.

The parting, indeed, between father and daughter was such
as did not often take place, even in those regions, in those
times. Silas Perry, the father of this young girl, was a sue-
12 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

cessful merchant, who had been established near forty years

in the French and Spanish colony of Orleans, then a small
colonial trading-post, which gave little pledge of the great
city of New Orleans of to-day. He had gone there a —
young New Englander,who had his fortunes to in make —
the year 1763, when King
the of France first gave Louisiana
to his well-beloved cousin. King of Spain. Silas Perry had
his fortunes to make —
and he made them. He had been
loyal to the cause of his own country, so soon as he heard of
tea thrown over, of stamps burned in King Street, and of
efRgies hanging on Liberty Tree. He had wrought gallantly
with his friend and fellow-countryman, Oliver Pollock, in for-
warding Spanish gunpowder from the king's stores, to Wash-
ington's army, by the unsuspected route of the Mississippi
and Ohio. He
had wrought his way into the regards of suc-
cessive Spanish governors,and had earned the respect of the
more important of the French planters,
At this time the greater part of the handful of white peo-
ple who made the French \ and
ruling class in Orleans were
a brilliant " society " did the little But it
colony maintain,
had happened to Silas Perry, whose business had often called
him to the Havana, that he had there wooed, won, and niarried
a Spanish lady ; and about the times of tea-parties, stamp-
acts, English troops recalled from the Mississippi, and other
such matters, Silas Perry had busied himself largely in estab-
lishing his new home in Orleans, and in bringing his bride
there. Here the Spanish lady was cordially made welcome
by the ladies of the little oourt, in which governor and com-
mandant and the rest were of Spanish appointment, though
their subjects were of French blood. Here she lived quietly;
and here, after ten years, she died, leaving to her husband
but two children. One of them had been sent to Paris for
his education, nine years before the time when the reader
sees his sister. For it is his sister, who was an infant when
her mother died, whom we now see, sixteen years after, wav-
ing her handkerchief to her father as the barge recedes from
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 13

the levee. Other children had died in infancy. This little

Inez herself was but six months old when her mother died
and she had passed through infancy and girlhood without a
mother's care.
But her father had risen to the emergency in a New Eng-
lander's fashion. Not that he looked round to find a French
lady to take the place of the Spanish donna. Not he. He
did write home to Squam Bay, and stated to his sister Eunice
the needs of the little child. He did not tell Eunice that if
she came to be the child's second mother she would exchange
calls with marchionesses, would dress in silks, and ride in
carriages. He knew very well that none of these things
would move her. He did tell her, that, if she did not watch
over the little thing in her growth, nobody else would but
himself. He knew what he relied upon in saying this ; and,
on the return of Captain Tucker in the schooner " Dolores,"
sure enough, the aunt of the little orphaned baby had
appeared, with a very droll assortment of trunks and other
baggage, in the most approved style of Squam Bay. She
was herself scarcely seventeen years old when she thus
changed her home ; but she had the conscientious decision
td which years of struggle had trained her before her time.
She loved her brother, and she was determined to do her
duty by his child. To that child she had ever since been
faithful, with all a mother's care.
And so Miss Inez had grown up in a French town, under
Spanish government, but with her every-day life directed
under the simplest traditions of New England. With her
little friends, and on any visit, she saw from day to day the
from those of home, of a French
habits, so utterly different
colony not indisposed to exaggerate the customs of France.
For language, she spoke English at home, after the fashion
of the New Englanders ; but in the society of her playmates
and friends she spoke French, after the not debased fashion
of the Creole French of Louisiana. Through all her life,

how;ever, Louisiana had been under the Spanish rule. Silas

14 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Perry himself spoke and read Spanish perfectly well, and he

had taught Inez to use it with ease. The girl had, indeed,
read no little of the masterpieces of Spanish literature, so
far as, in a life not very often thwarted at home, she had
found what pleased her among her father's books.
She was now parted from him for the first time, if we except
short visits on one plantation or another on the coast. The
occasion of the parting was an unrelenting storm of letters

and messages from her mother's only sister, Donna Maria

Dolores, the wife of a Spanish officer of high rank, named
Barelo. For some years now this husband had been stationed
at the frontier part of San Antonio, in the province which
was beginning to take the name of Texas ; and in this little
settlement Donna Maria, lonely enough herself, was making
such sunshine as she could for those around her. Forlorn as
such a position seems, perhaps, to people with fixed homes,
it was any thing but forlorn to Donna Maria. She had lived,
she said, " the life of an Arab " till now ; and now to know
that her husband was really stationed here, though the station
were a frontier garrison, was to know that for the first time
since her girlhood she was to have the luxury of a home.
No sooner were her household gods established, than she
began, by the very infrequent " opportunities " for writing
which the frontier permitted, to hurl the storm of letters on
Silas Perry's defenceless head. Fortunately for him, indeed,
" opportunities " were few. This word, in the use we now
make of it, is taken from the older vocabulary of
Eng- New
land, in whose language it implied a method of sending a
letter outside of any mail. Just as in English novels you
find people speaking of " franks " for letters, these older
New Englanders spoke of "opportunities." Mail between
Texas and Orleans there was not, never had been, and, with
the blessing of God, never would be. " Had I the power,"
said the Gov. Salcedo, " I would not let a bird cro^s from
Louisiana to Texas." But sometimes a stray priest going to
confer with the bishop of Orleans, sometimes a government
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 15

messenger from Mexico, sometimes a concealed horse-trader,

and always camps of Indians, passed the frontier eastward,
on one pretext or another ; and, with proper license given,
there was no reason left why they should not, after Louisiana
became in name a Spanish province. No such stray traveller
came to the city without finding Silas Perry; and inevitably
he brought a double letter, —
an affectionate note to Inez,
begging her to write to her mother's sister, and an urgent and
persuasive one to her father, begging him, by all that was
sacred, not to let the child grow up without knowing her
mother's only relations.
Silas Perry's heart was still tender. If he had lived to be
a thousand, he would never have forgotten the happy days in
the Havana, when he wooed and won his Spanish bride, nor
the loyal help that her sister Dolores gave to the wooing and
to the winning. But till now he had the advantage of posses-
sion J and the priests and soldiers and traders always carried
back affectionate letters, explaining how much Inez loved her
aunt, but how impossible was for her to come. The con-
it

cocting of these letters had become almost a family joke at

home.
It may help the reader's chronology if we say that our story

begins in the first year which bore the number of " eighteen
hundred ; " he may call it the last year of the eighteenth cen-
tury, or the first of the nineteenth, as he likes to be accurate
or inaccurate. At
time business required that Silas
this
Perry should go to Paris, and leave his home for many months,
perhaps for a year. Silas would gladly have taken his sister
Eunice and his daughter with him ; but travel was not what
it is now, nor was Paris what it is now. And although he
did not think his daughter's head would be cut off, still he
doubted so far what he might find in Paris, that he shrank
from taking her thither. As it happened, at this moment
there came a particularly well-aimed shaft ftom Aunt Dolores's
armory ; and fortune added an " opportunity," not only for
reply, but for permitting Inez and her aunt to make the j6ur-
l6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

ney into Texas under competent escort, if they chose to sub-

mit themselves to all the hardships of travel across prairies
and through a wilderness. True, the enterprise was utterly
unheard of this did not make it less agreeable in Silas Perry's
:

eyes. It was not such an enterprise as Donna Maria Dolores

had proposed. She had arranged that the girl should be
sent with proper companionship, on one of Silas's vessels, to
Corpus Christi on the Gulf. She had promised to go down
herself to meet her, with an escort of lancers whom their
friend Gov. Herrera had promised her. But Silas Perry had
not liked this plan. He said boldly, that, if the girl were to
ride a hundred miles, she might ride three hundred. Mr.
Nolan would take better care of her than any Gov. Herrera
of them all. "Women always supposed you were sending
schooners into mud-holes, where there was nothing to buy,
and nothing to sell." And so the most improbable of all

possible events took place. By way of preparation for going

to Paris, Silas Perry sent his precious daughter, and his sister
only less precious, on a long land-journey of adventure, to
make a visit as long, at least, as his own was. It need not
be said, if the reader apprehends what manner of man he
was, that he had provided for her comfort, so far "as fore-
thought, lavish expenditure, and a wide acquaintance with the
country, could provide for it. If he had not come to this
sudden and improbable determination, this story would not
have been written.
Inez, as has been said, fairly broke down as the rowers gave
way. Her Aunt Eunice kept up the pretence of flying her
handkerchief till they had wholly lost sight of the point of
their embarkation. And then the first words of comfort which
came to the sobbing girl were not from her aunt.
" Take one o' them Boston crackers they say they's dread-
;

ful good when you go on the water. Can't git none all along
the coast ; they don't know how to keep 'em. So soon as ye
father said )'ou was to go, I told old Tucker to bring me some
from home ; told him where to git 'em. Got 'em at Richard-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 17

son*? in School Street. Don't have 'em good nowhere

else."
Inez, poor child, could as easily have eaten a horseshoe as
the biscuit which was thus tendered her. But she took it
with a Weasant smile ; and the words answered a better pur-
pose than Dr. Flavel's homilies on contentment could have
served.
The speaker was a short-set, rugged New Englander, of
about sixty years of age, whose dress and appointments were
in every respect curiously, not to say sedulously, different
from those of the Creole French, or the Spanish seamen, or
the Western flat-boatmen, all around him. Regardless of
treaties, of nationalities, or of birthright privileges, Seth
Ransom regarded all these people as "furriners," and so
designated them, even in the animated and indignant conver-
sations which he held with them. He was himself a Yankee
of the purest blood, who had, however, no one of the restless
or adventurous traits attributed to the Yankee of fiction or
of the stage. He had, it is true, followed the sea in early
[Link], having fallen in with Silas Perry in Havana, he
had attached himself to his service with a certain feudal
loyalty. The institution of feudalism, as the philosophical
student has observed, made the vassal quite as much the
master of his lord as the master was of his vassal, if not
more. That this was the reason why Seth Ransom served
Silas Perry, it would be wrong to say. But it is true that he
served him in a masterful way, as a master serves. It is also
true that he idolized Inez, as he had idolized her mother
before her. Of each, he was the most faithful henchman
and the most loyal admirer. Yet he would address Inez
personally with the intimate terms in which he spoke to her
when she was a baby in his arms, —
when perhaps she had
been left for an hour in his happy and perfect charge. If no
one else were present, he would call her " Een," or " Inez,"
as if she had been his own granddaughter. In the presence
of others, on the other hand, no don of the Governor's staff
could have found fault with the precision of his etiquette.
i8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

The necessities of Mr. Perry's business often sent Seth

Ransom back to New England, so that he could drink again
from the waters of the pump in King Street, as he still called
the State Street of to-day. was as Hercules sometimes let
It
Antffius put his foot to the ground. Ransom returned from
each such visit with new contempt for every thing which he
found upon other shores, excepting for the household of Silas
Perry, and perhaps a modified toleration for that of Oliver
Pollock. For Silas Perry himself, for Miss Eunice^ and Miss
Inez, his chivalrous devotion blazed out afresh on each
return.
He was athletic, strong, and practical. Nobody had ever
found any thing he could not do, excepting that he read and
wrote with such difficulty, that in practice he never descended
to these arts except in the most trying emergency. When,
therefore, Silas Perry determined on his rash project of send-
ing his daughter and sister under Mr. Nolan's escort to San
Antonio, he determined, of course, to send Seth Ransom
with them as their body-guard. The fact that he sent him,
in truth, really relieved the enterprise from its rashness;
for, though Seth Ransom had never crossed the prairies,

any one who knew him, and the relation in which he stood
to Miss Inez, knew that, if it were necessary, he would carry
her from Natchez to the Alamo in his arms.
The boat was soon free from the little flotilla which then
made all the commerce of the little port; and the steady

stroke of the well-trained crew hurried her up stream with a

speed that exacted the admiration of the lazy lookers-on of
whatever nation.
Inez thanked her old cavalier for his attention, made him
happy by asking him to find something for her in a bag
which he had stowed away, and then kept him by her side.
" Do
they row as well as this in Boston Harbor, Ransom ?
she said. For some reason unknown. Ransom was never
addressed by his baptismal name.
" Don't have to. Ain't many niggers there, no way. What
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 19

they is lives on Nigger Hill ; that's all on one side. Yes

some niggers goes to sea, but them's all cooks. Don't have
to row much there. Have sailboats ; don't have no rivers."
The girl loved to hear his dialect, antf was not averse to
stir up his resentment against all men who had not been born

under her father's roof, and all nations but those which ate
codfish salted on Saturday.
" I don't see where they get their ducks, if they have_ no
rivers," she said artfully, as if she were thinking aloud.
"Ducks! thousands on 'em. Big ducks too; not little

critters like these. Go Market any day,

into Faneuil Hall
and have more ducks than you can ask for. Ducks is
nothin'." And a grim smile stole over his face, as if he
were pleased that Inez had selected ducks as the precise
point on which her comparison should be made.
"Well, surely. Ransom, they have no sugar-cane," said
she j and, by her eye, he saw that she was watching Sancho,
the boatswain as he might be called, who, as he nodded to
his men, solaced himself by chewing and sucking at a bit of
fresh cane from a little heap at his side.
" Sugar-cane Guess not. Don't want 'em. Won't touch
!

'em. Oceans of white sugar, all done up in sugar-loaves,

jest when they want it. Them as makes sugar makes it in
the woods, makes it out of trees ; don't have to have them
dirty niggers make it.
!
Oceans of sugar-loaves all the time
And again that severe smile stole over his face, and he
looked up into the sky, almost as if he saw celestial beings
carrying purple-papered sugar-loaves to Boston, and as if —
next to ducks —
the supply of sugar to that town was its
marked characteristic. ^
Eunice Perry was glad to follow the lead which Ransom
had given, sagaciously or unconsciously. Any thing was
better for the voyage than a homesick brooding on what they
had left behind.
" We must not make Inez discontented with Orleans and
the coast, Ransom. Poor child she has nothing but roses
!
 20 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

, and orange-blossoms, figs and bananas ; we must not tell her

too much about russet apples, or she will be discontented."
" I do like russet apples, aunty darling, quite as well as I
like figs; but I shall not be discontented while I have you

on one side of me, and Ransom on the other, and dear old
Sancho beating time in front." This, with a proud expres-
sion, as if she knew they were trying to lead her out from
herself, and that she did not need to be cosseted. Old San-
cho caught the glance, and started his rowers to new energy.
To maintain a crack crew of oarsmen was one of the boasts
of the " coast " at that time ; and, although Silas Perry was
in no sort a large planter, yet he maintained the communica-
tion between his plantation above the city, and his home in
the city, —
which, for himself, he preferred at any season to
any place of refuge, —
by a crew as stalwart and as well
trained as any planter of them all.

The boat on which the two ladies and their companions

were embarked was not the elegant barge in which they
usually made the little voyage from the plantation to their
city home. It was a more business-like craft which Silas
Perry had provided to carry his daughter as far as Natchi-
toches on the Red River, where she and her companions were
to join the land expedition of Philip Nolan and his friends.
The after-part of the boat was protected from sun or rain
by an awning or light roof, generally made of sails, or some-
times of skins, but, in Inez's boat, of light woodwork ; it
had among the habitants the name of tendelet. Under the
tendelet a little deck, with the privileges of all quarter-decks,
belonged to the master of the boat and his company. Here
he ate his meals by day; here, if he slept on board, he
spread his mattress at night. It was high enough to give a
good view of the river and the low shores, of any approach-
ing boat, or any other object of interest in the somewhat
limited catalogue of river experiences. In the preparatioiis
for the voyage of the ladies, curtains had been arranged,
which would screen them from either side, from the sun, from
wind, or even from a shower.
 OS, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 21

A long tarpauling, called the piklat, was stretched over the

whole length of the boat, to protect the stores, the trunks,
and other cargo, from the weather. The rowers sat at the
sides, old Sancho watching them from the rear ; while a man
in the bow, called the bosman^ who generally wielded a sort
of a boat-hook, watched the course, and fended off any float-
ing log, or watched for snag or sawyer.
The voyage this afternoon was not long. It was, as Inez
said, only a " taste-piece." Eunice said it was as the cara-
vans at the East go a mile out of town on the first night, so
that they may the more easily send back for any thing that is
forgotten.
" All nonsense " said Ransom.
!
" I told ye father might

as well start afore sunrise, and be at the Cross to-night:

would not hear a word on it, and so lost all day."
In truth, Inez was to spend her last night at the planta-
tion, which had been her favorite summer home for years, to

bid farewell to the servants there, and to gather up such of

her special possessions as could be carried on the pack-
horses, on this pilgrimage to her Spanish aunt. Her father
would gladly have come with her, but for the possibility that
his ship might sail for Bordeaux early the next morning.

1 Was this word once "boatsw^n," perhaps?

22 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER II.

A MEETING.

"Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw." Alexander Pope.

Before sunrise the next morning the final embarkation

was to take place. The whole house was in an uproar. The
steady determination of old Chloe, chief of the kitchen, that
Miss Inez should eat the very best breakfast she ever saw, ^

before she went off "to the wild Indians," dominated the
whole In this determination Chloe was
establishment.
steadily upheld by Ransom, who knew, by many conflicts
from which he had retreated worsted, that it was idle to try
to dictate to her, while at the same time he had views as
decided as ever on the inferiority of French coSkery to that
of New England. The preparation of this master break-
fast had called upon Chloe and her allies long before light.
Ceesar and his allies, also preparing for a voyage which
would take them from home for many days, were as early
and as noisy. The only wonder, indeed, was that the girl,
who was the centre of the idolatry of them all, or her aunt,
who was hardly less a favorite, could either of them sleep a
wink, in the neighborhood of such clamors, after midnight'
passed. When , they did meet at brealcf ast, they found the
table lighted with bougies, and preparations for such a repast
as if the governor and his staff, commandant with his,
the
and half the nkrchants of Orleans, had been invited. Be-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 23

sides Frangois and Laurent, who were in regular attendance

on the table, Ransom was hovering round, somewhat as a
chief butler might have done in another form of luxurious
civilization.
" Eat a bit of breast, Miss Inez ; and here's the second
j'int ; try that. Don't know nothin', —niggers, —but I see
to this myself. Miss Eunice, them eggs is fresh took 'em
:

myself from four different nests. Niggers don't know nothin'

about eggs. Made a fire in the barn chamber, and biled 'em
right myself, jest as your father likes 'em. Miss Inez. Them
others is as hard as rocks."
Inez was in the frolic of a new expedition now ; and the
traces of parjiing, if indeed they existed, could not be dis-
cerned. She balanced Ransom's attentions against the equal
attention of the two boys, pretended to eat from more dishes
and to drink from more cups than would have served Cleo-
patra for a month, amused herself in urging Aunt' Eunice to
do the same, and pretended to wrap in napkins, for the
" smoking halt," the viands upon which her aunt would not
try experiments. The meal, on the whole, was not unsatis-
factory to Aunt Chloe's pride, to Ransom's prevision, or to
the public opinion of the -household. All who were left
behind were, in private, unanimous on one point, namely, —
that Miss Eunice and Miss Inez were both to be roasted
alive within a week by the Caddo Indians ; to be torn limb
from limb, and eaten, even as they were now eating the spring
chickens before them. But as this view was somewhat dis-
couraging, and as Aunt Chloe, after having once solemnly
impressed it upon Eunice, had been told by Silas Perry that
she should be locked up for a day in the lock-house if she
ever said another such word to anybody, it was less publicly
expressed in the farewells of the morning, though not held
any the less implicitly.
In truth, tlie bougies were a wholly unnecessary elegance
or precaution ; for the noisy party did not, in fact, get under
way till the sun had well risen, and every sign of early
24 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

exhalation had passed from the river. Such had been Mr.
Perry's private orders to his sister; and, although the gen-
eral custom of a start at sunrise was too well fixed to be
broken in upon in form, Eunice and Ransom had no lack of
methods of delaying the final embarkation, even at the risk
of a little longer pull before the " smoke."
The glory of the morning, as seen from the elevated quar-
ter-deck, was a new delight to Inez. She watched at first
for a handkerchief or some other token of farewell from one
or another veranda as they passed plantations which were
within the range of a ride or sail from her own home. After-
ward, even as the settlement became rather more sparse,
there was still the matchless beauty of heavy clumps of
green, and of the long shadows of early morning. Even in
the autumn colors, nothing can tame the richness of the
foliage ; and the contrast rendered by patches of ripening
sugar-cane or other harvests is only the more striking from
the loyal and determined verdure of trees which will not
change, but always speak, not of spring, but of perennial
summer.
The crew felt all the importance of the expedition. Often
as they had gone down the river with one or another cargo
to Orleans, few of them had ever voyaged for any consider-
able distance up the stream. This was terra incognita into
which they were coming. Not but they had heard many a
story, extravagant enough too, of the marvels of the river,
from one or another flat-boatman who had availed himself of
the hospitalities of the plantation for his last night before
arriving at the cit}'. But these stories were not very con-
sistent witheach other ; and, while the negroes half believed
them, they half disbelieved at the same time. To go bodily
into the presence of these unknown marvels was an experi-
ence wholly unexpected by each of them. Even Csesar the
old cook, Sancho, and Paul the bosman, were shaken from
their balance or propriety by an adventure so strange and
j
 OR, "SffOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 25

the preparations they had made for the voyage, and the
orders they had given to the men who were to leave home
for a period so unusual, all showed that they regarded this
event as by far the most important of their lives.
All the same the bosman gave out a familiar and sonorous
song, and all the same the rowers joined heartily in the words.
And when he cunningly inserted some new words, with an
allusion to the adventures before them, and to the treasures
of silver which all parties would bring back from the Caddo
mines, a guftaw of satisfaction showed that all parties were
well pleased. And the readiness with which they caught up
such of the words as came into the refrain showed that they
were in no sort dispirited, either by the fatigue or the danger
of the undertaking before them.
The song was French dialect used by the
in the crudest
plantation slaves. The air little German march-
was that of a
ing song, which the quick-eared negroes had caught from
German neighbors on the coast ; old veterans of Frederick's,
very likely. In the more polished rendering into which Inez
and her aunt reduced it, before their long voyage was over,
still crude enough to give some idea of the simplicity of the
original, it re-appeared in these words :
—
" Darkeys, make this dug-out hurry ; Tirez.
Boys behind, begin to row ; Tirez.
And don't let misses have to worry
Misses have to worry when the light of day is gone ; Tirez.

Lazy dogs there behind, are your paddles all broke ?

Lazy dogs there before, have you all lost the stroke ?
Farewell! Farewell! Farewell — farewell,
Farewell! Dear girl! Farewell — farewell.
Up the Mississippi River ; Tirez.
Caddoes have a silver-mine ; Tirez.
My sweetheart takes to all I give her,
All that I can give her when my misses is come home ; Tirez.
26 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"Lazy dogs there behind, are your paddles all broke ?

Lazy dogs there before, have you all lost the stroke ?

Farewell ! Farewell I Farewell— farewell.

Farewell! Dear girl 1 Farewell — farewell."^

from day to
It will not do, however, to describe the detail
day, even of adventures so her com-
new to Inez and all

panions as were these. For a day or two the arrangements

which Mr. Perry had made were such, that they made harbor
for each night with some outlying frontiersman's family. The
only adventure which startled them took place one morning
after they were a little wonted to their voyage in the wilder-
ness.
By the laws of all river craft, the hands were entitled every
day, at the end of two hours, to a rest, if only to take breath.
Everybody lighted a pipe, and the rest was called the " smok-
ing-halt." The boat was run up to the shore; and the ladies
would walk along a little way, ordering the boatmen to take
them up when they should overtake them.
Inez had, one morning, already collected a brilliant bou-
quet, when, at a turning of the river, she came out on an

1 Readers who find themselves on some placid lake, river, or bayou in an autumn
day, should autumn come again, may like
ever to intwine the words of the song
in the meshes of the German air. Here it is.

Chokus. nt.

a tempo.
^mm^^^m
i m
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 27

unexpected encampment. A cloud of smoke rose from a

smouldering fire, a dozen Indian children were chasing each
other to and fro in the shrubbery, the mothers of some of
them were at work by the fire, and the men of the party were
lounging upon the grass. Four or five good-sized canoes
drawn up upon the shore showed where the whole party had
come from each canoe bore at the head a stag's head fixed
:

on a pronged stick, as a sort of banner, whether of triumph

or of festivity.
Inez and Eunice had so often welcomed such parties at
showed any alarm or
the plantation, that neither of them
anxiety when they came so suddenly out upon the little
encampment. But Inez did have a chance to say, "Dear
old Chloe she is a true prophet so soon. There are the
!

fires, and here are we. Dear auntie, pray take the first
turn." Both of them, very likely, would have been glad
enough to avoid the rencontre; but as they were in for it,
and had no near base to retreat upon, they advanced as if
cordially, and greeted the nearest woman with a smile and a
few words of courtesy.
In a minute the half-naked children had gathered in three
little groups, the smaller hiding behind the larger, and all

staring at the ladies with a curiosity so fresh and undisguised,

that it seemed certain they had never seen such people, or
at the least such costumes, before. It. was clear enough in a

minute more that the Indian women did not understand a

syllable of the words which their fairer sisters addressed to
them. One or two of the men rose from the ground, and
joined in the interview, but with little satisfaction as far
as any inteirchange of ideas went. Both parties, however,
showed a friendly spirit. The Indian women went so far
as to offer broiled fish and fresh grapes to the ladies. These
declined the hospitality ; but Inez, taking from her neck a
little scarlet scarf, beckoned to her the prettiest child in the
group nearest to her, and tied it round the girl's neck. The
28 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

savage was pleased beyond words with the adornment,

little

slipped from her grasp, and ran with absurd vanity from
one
group to another to show off her new acquisition.
" What would my dear Madame Faustine say, if she knew
that her dearly beloved scarf was so soon adorning
the neck

of a dirty savage ?
" She would say, if she were not a goose," said Eunice,
" that you will have the whole tribe on you for scarfs now ;

and, as you have not thirty, that you have parted with your
pretty scarf for nothing."
Sure enough, every little brat of the half-naked company
came around them, to try the natural languages of beggary.
Inez laughed heartily enough, but shook her head, and tried
if they would not understand
" No, no, no " if she only !

said it fast enough,

" can do better than that," said Eunice. " We may as
We
well make a treaty with them, as you have begun. We will
wait here for the boat. I am horribly afraid of them ; but,

if we pretend not to be frightened, that will be next best to

meeting nobody at all."
So she patted two dirty little brats upon the cheeks, took
another by the hand, and led him to the shade of a China-tree
which grew near the levee, and there sat down.
The children thought, perhaps, that they were to be roasted
and eaten ; for the tales of the Attakapas, or man-eaters of
the coast, travelled west as well as east. But they showed
all the aplomb of their race, and, if they were to be eaten,
meant to be eaten without groaning. In a moment more,
however, they had forgotten their tears.
Eunice had torn from the book she held in her hand the
blank leaf at the end. She folded a strip of the paper six or
eight times, and then with her pocket-scissors cut out the fig-
ure of a leaping Indian. The feathers in his head-dress were,
as she said to Inez, quite expressive ; and his posture was
savage enough for the reddest. The children watched her
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 29

with amazement, the group enlarging itself from moment to

moment. So soon as the leaping savage was completed,
Eunice unfolded the paper, and of course produced eight
leaping savages, who held each other by the hands. These
she brought round into a ring, and by a stitch fastened the
outer hands together. She placed the ring of dancers, thus
easily made, upon her book, and then made them slide up and
down upon the cover.
The reticence of these babes of the woods was completely
broken. They shouted and sang in their delight ; and even
their phlegmatic fathers and mothers were obliged to draw
near.
Eunice followed up her advantage. This time her ready
scissors cut out a deer, with his nose down ; and, as the paper
was unfolded, two deer were smelling at the same root in the
ground. Rings of horses, groups of buffaloes, rabbits, ante-
lopes, and other marvels, followed ; and the whole company
was spellbound, and, indeed, would have remained so as long
as Eunice continued her magic creations, when Inez whispered
to her, —
" I see the boat coming."
Eunice made no sign of the satisfaction she felt, but bade
Inez walk quietly to the bend of the stream, and wave her
handkerchief ; and the girl did so.
Eunice quietly finished the group which engaged her, and
then, singling out the youngest of the girls, with a pointed
gesture gave one of the much-coveted marvels to each of them,
flung away the scraps of cut paper from her lap, and sprang
'

quickly to her feet.

The flying bits of paper were quite enough to arrest the

attention of the warriors, and they scattered in eager pursuit
of them.
A minute more, and the boat was at the rudiment of a
levee which had already begun to form itself. The girls
sprang on board again, not sorry to regain the protection of
30 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

their party ; and Eunice inwardly resolved to run no more

such risks while she was commander of the expedition.
"Wouldn't have dared to do nothin'," said old Ransom,
concealing by a square lie his own anxiety at the rencontre.
" They's cowards and liars, them redskins be ; but if you
all

go walkin' agin, Miss Eunice, better call me to go with you

they's all afraid of a white man."
" Ah, well, Ransom, they were very civil to us to-day ; and

I believe I have made forty friends at the cost of a little

white paper."
None the lesswas Eunice mortified and annoyed that she
should have had a fright —
for a fright it was so early in —
their enterprise. It had been arranged with care, that at
night they should tarry at plantations, while plantations
lasted ; but from Point Coupde to Natchitoches, where they
were to join Capt. Nolan's party, was fifty-five leagues,
which, at the best the " patron " could do, would cost them
six or seven days ; and she did not hope for even a log-cabin
on the way for all that distance. And now, even before that
weakest spot in their line, she had walked into a camp of
these red rascals, who would have made no scruple of strip-
ping from them all that they carried or wore.
" All's well that ends well, auntie," said Inez, as she saw
her aunt's anxiety.
But none the Eunice feel that anxiety. Ransom,
less did
she saw, and the good fellow was, not more careful,
felt it ;

but ten times more eager to show that he was careful, at

every encampment. The patron, who was wholly competent
to the charge given him, with the utmost respect and def-
erence vied with Ransom in his arrangements. From this
jnoment forward the ladies were watched with a surveillance
which would made Eunice angry, had she not seen that it was
meant so kindly.
This caution and assiduity were not without their effect
upon her. But, all the same, her relief was infinite, when on
the night when they hauled up, rather later than usual, below
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 31

the rapids of the Red River, she was surprised by hearing

her own name in a friendly voice, and Capt. Nolan sprang on
board.
He had met them two or three days earlier than he
expected.
32 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

CHAPTER III.

PHILIP NOLAN.

" Bid them stand in the king's name."

To Philip Nolan and his companions is due that impres-

sion of American courage and resource, which for nearly half
a century impressed the Spanish occupants of Texas, until,
in the year 1848, they finally surrendered this beautiful region,
however unwillingly, to the American arms and arts.
For ten years before the period of this story, scarcely any
person had filled a place more distinguished among the
American voyagers on the Mississippi, or the American
settlers on its eastern banks, than had Philip Nolan.
His reputation was founded first on his athletic ability,
highly esteemed among an athletic race. He had had inti-
mate relations with the Spanish governors of Louisiana ; but
no one doubted his loyalty to his native land. He under-
stood the Indians thoroughly, as the reader will have occasion
to see. He had a passion for the wilderness, and for the life
of the forest and prairie ; but he was well educated, whether
for commerce or for command ; and Spanish governors, Or-
leans merchants, and American generals and secretaries of
state, alike were glad to advise with him, and profited by his
rare information of the various affairs intrusted to their care,
— information which he had gained by personal inspection
and inquiry.
Once and again had Philip Nolan, fortified by official safe-
guards, crossed into Texas, hunted wild horses there, and
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 33

brought them back into the neighborhood of New Orleans,

or the American settlements of the Mississippi, to a good
market. A
perfect judge of horses, an enthusiastic lover of
them, he was more pleased with such adventure than with
what he thought the humdrum lines of trade. His early-
training, indeed, had been so far that of a soldier, that he
was always hoping for a campaign. With every new breath
of a quarrel between the United States and Spain, he hoped
that his knowledge of the weak spots in the Spanish rule
might prove of service to his own country. Indeed, if the
whole truth could be told, it would probably appear, that, for
the last year or two before the reader meets him, Nolan had
been lying on his oars, or looking around him, waiting for
the hoped-for war which, as he believed, would sweep the
forces of the King of Spain out from this magnificent country,
which they held to such little purpose. Disappointed in such
hopes, he had now undertaken, for the third time, an expedi-
tion to collect horses in Texas for sale on the Mississippi.'
Silas Perry knew Nolan so well, and placed in him confi-
dence so unlimited, that he had with little hesitation accepted
the offer of his escort made first in jest, but renewed in
utter earnest, as soon as the handsome young adventurer
found that his old friend looked upon it seriously. Nolan
had represented that he had a party large enough to secure
the ladies from Indians or from stragglers. The ways were
perfectly familiar to him, and to more than one of those with
him. Their business itself would take them very near to
San Antonio, if not quite there ; and, without the slightest
difficulty, he could and would see that the ladies were safely

confided to Major Barelo's care.

1 The by an oversight which he regrets, and has long re-

writer of this tale,
gretted, spoke of this venturous and brave young Kentuckian as Stephen Nolan in
a story published in 1863. The author had created an imaginary and mythical
brother of Nolan's, to whom he gave the name of Philip Nolan, and to whom he
gave a place in the army of the United States. Ever since he discovered his mis-
take, he has determined to try to give to the true Philip Nolan such honors as he
could pay to a name to which this young man gave true honor. With this wish
he attempts the little narrative of his life, which forms a part of this story.
34 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

So soon as this proposal had been definitely stated, it met

with the entire approval of Miss Inez. This needs scarcely
be said. To a young lady of her age, three hundred miles
of riding on horseback seems three hundred times as charm-
ing as one mile and even one, with a good horse and a good
;

cavalier, is simply perfection. All the votes Miss Inez could

give from the beginning were given in plumpers for the plan.
Nor had it met the objection which might have been ex-
pected from the more sedate and venerable Miss Eunice. It
is true, this lady was more than twice Inez's age ; but even

at thirty-five one is not a pillar of salt, nor wholly indisposed

to adventure. Eunice's watchful eye also had observed many
reasons, some physical and some more subtle, why it would
be for the advantage of Inez to be long absent from Orleans.
Perhaps she would have shed no tears had she been told that
the girl should never see that town again. So long as she
was a child, it had not been difficult to arrange that the
society she kept should be only among children whose lan-
guage, thought, and habit would not hurt her. But Inez was
a woman now, —a very lovely, simple, pure, and conscientious
woman, it was true ; but, for all that, Eunice was not more
inclined to see the girl exposed to the follies and extrava-
gances of the exaggerated French or Spanish life of the
little colony, especially while her father was in Europe. And
Eunice was afraid, at the same time, that the life, only too
luxurious, which they led in the city and on the plantation,
did not strengthen the girl, as she would fain have her
strengthened, against the constitutional weakness which had
brought her mother to an early grave. Eunice saw no reason
why, at sixteen years of age, Inez should not lead a life as
simple, as much exposed to the open climate, and as depen-
dent on. her own resources, as she herself, with the advan-
tages and disadvantages of Squam Bay, had led when she
was a girl just beginning to be a woman.
Eunice Perry and Philip Nolan were almost of the same
age; and those who knew them both, and who saw how
 OR, "SHOW POUR PASSPORTS." 35

intimate the handsome young Kentuckian was in the comfort-

able New England household of Silas Perry, whether in the
town house or plantation house, were forever gossiping and
wondering, were saying now that he was in love with Eunice,
now that she was in love with him ; now that they were to
be married at Easter, and now that the match was broken
off at Michaelmas.
From the time when he first appeared in Orleans, almost a
boy, with the verdure of his native village still clinging to
him, but none the less cheerful, manly, courageous, enterpris-
ing, and handsome, he had found a friend in Silas Perry;
and the office of the New England merchant was one of the
first places to which he would have gone for counsel. It was
not long before the shrewd and hearty New Englander, who
knew men, and knew what men to trust, began to take the
youngster home with him. Those were in the days when
Inez was in her cradle, and when Eunice was a stranger in
Louisiana.
had been Philip Nolan's counsellor, employer,
Silas Perry
and friend. Nolan had been Silas Perry's pupil,
Philip
agent, messenger, and friend. Eunice Perry had been Philip
Nolan's frequent companion, his more frequent confidante,
and most frequently his friend ; and, as such friendship had
been tested, there were a thousand good offices which she
had asked of him, and never asked in vain. An intimacy so
sincere as this, the growth of years of confidence, made it

natural to all and Inez should under-

parties that Eunice
take their journey under the escort of this soldier who was
not quite a merchant, and this merchant who was not quite a
soldier, — Philip Nolan.
" But you are all alone, Capt. Phil," said Inez, expressing

in the very frankest way the pleasure which the meeting,

hardly expected, with her old friend afforded her. " Where

is our army ?
" Our army has gone in advance, to free the prairies of any

marauding throngs who might press too close on the princess

who deigns to visit them."
36 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"Which means, being interpreted, I suppose, that the

army isbuying corn at Natchitoches," said Eunice.

"Yes, and no," said he, a little gravely, as she fancied.
"We them near Natchitoches if we do not find
shall find
them this side. I must talk with my friend the patron, and
see if I can persuade him to give up your luxurious boat tor
one that I have chartered above the rapids. I have not

much faith that the '

Donna Maria,' or the '
Dolores,' or the
'Sea Gull,' —
which name has she to-day. Miss Inez? that —
this sumptuous frigate of ours can be got through the rapids
so easily as we thought at your father's. But I have what
is really a very tidy [Link] above ; and, before you ladies are
awake in the morning, we will see if you are to change your
quarters."
" And must I leave thee, my Martha ? " cried Inez in a
voice of mock tragedy. " Capt. Nolan, she is the Martha,' '

named after the wife of the Father of his Country. In leaving

the proud banner of Spain, under which I was born, to pass,
though only for a few happy hours, under the stars and
stripes, accompanied by this noble friend whom I see I need

not present to you, —

Miss Perry, Gen. Nolan ; a lady of
the very highest rank of the New England nobility, — accoip-
panied, I say, by an American lady of such distinction, I
ordered the steersman of my bark to keep always in the
eastern side of the river, in that short but bl6ssed interval
before we entered this redder but more Spanish stream.''
The young American of 1876 must remember that in 1800
both the east and west sides of the Mississippi were Spanish
territory, up to the southern line of our present State of that
name. Above that point, the eastern half of the river was
" American," the western half was Spanish. For a few miles
before the boat had come into the Red River, she had in fact
been floating, as Inez thought, in American waters and the ;

girl had made more than one chance to land on American

soil, though it was the mud of a canebrake, for the first time

of her life. All parties had joined in her enthusiasm j and

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 37

they had fixed a bivouac on this little stretch of her father's

land. So soon as they entered the Red River, they were
under Spanish jurisdiction once more.
Nolan entered into the spirit of the girl's banter ; and they
knew very well that it was not all fun.
" What a pity that your ladyship could not have come to
Fort Adams, or to Natchez,^ to begin with us " he ! said.
Natchez, then a village of six hundred inhabitants, was the
southernmost town in the United States. It was Nolan's own
headquarters, and from there his expedition had started.
" Your grace should have seen the stars and stripes flying
from the highest flagstaff in the West. I should have been
honored by the presence of your highnesses at my humble
quarters. Indeed, my friend the major-general commanding
at Fort Adams would have saluted your royal highnesses'
arrival by a salvo of sixteen guns ; and, the moment your
majesty entered the works of that fortress, every heart would
have been yours, as every recruit presented arms. A great
pity. Miss Inez, you had not come up to Natchez. But what
"
does my friend Ransom think of all this voyaging ?
Inez called him.
" Ransom Capt. Nolan wants to
! know how you liked
coming back into your own country."
" Evenin', captain."
This was Ransom's only reply to the cordial salutation of
the young Kentuckian, who was, however, one of Ransom's
very few favorites.
" Miss Inez says you spent Monday night in the United
States."
"Patron says so too," replied the sententious Ransom.
" Don't know nothin'. Much as ever can make them niggers
pull the boat along. Wanted to walk myself: could walk
faster than all on 'em can row, put together. Told the

1 The reader must note that Natchez on the Mississippi, Natchitoches on the

Red River, and Nacogdoches on the Angelina River, are three different towns.
The names seem to have been derived from the same roots.
38 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

patron so. We slept in a canebrake ; wust canebrake we s :e

since we left home. Patron said it was Ameriky.^ Patron

don't know nothin'. Ain't no canebrakes in Ameriky."
something amazingly like them for the first
".There's •

thousand or two. miles of Miss Inez's journey there," said

Nolan, laughing. " Any way, I'm glad the alligators did not
eat her up, and you too. Ransom."
" They'd like to. Didn't give 'em no chance," replied the
old man, with a beaming expression on his countenance.
"Loaded the old double-barrel with two charges of buck-
shot, sot tent. Darned critters knew
up myself outside her
it 'zwell as I did come nigh her all night long."
; didn't dare
" You should have given them pepper. Ransom. Throw a
little red pepper on the water, and it makes the bull alligators

sneeze. That frightens all the others, and they go twenty

miles off before morning."
Inez was laughing herself to death by this time, but
checked herself in time to ask whether she might not fly the
stars and stripes on the " Lady Martha,"
"What's the use of calling her the 'Lady Martha' only
for these four or five miles? And my dear silk flag: is it
not a beauty, Capt. Nolan? I made it with my own fair

hands. And
you knew how to sew, Capt. Nolan, you
if

would know how hard it is to sew stars into blue silk, silk —
stars too. I never should have done it but for Sister Fdicie
she helped me out of hours ; and I wish I did not think she
was doing penance now. But is it not a beauty ? Look at
it " and she flung her pretty flag open over her knees and
!

Eunice's. " All your stripes, you see, with the white on the
outside, as you taught me. And I did not faint nor shirk
for one star, though mortal strength did tire, and Sister
F^licie did have to help ; but there are all the sixteen there.
That one with the little blood-spot on it is Vermont I :

pricked my finger horridly for Vermont ; and that is your

dear Kentucky, captain ; and that is Tennessee."
1 The use of the words " America " for the United States, and " Americans "
for their people, was universal among the Spaniards, even at this early day.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 39

Nolan bowed, and, this time with no mock feeling, kissed

the star which the girl pointed out for his own State.
" May I not fly it to-morrow morning ? Was it only made
"
for that little sail through the canebrakes ?

Nolan's face clouded a little, —a little more than he meant

it should.
" Just here, and just now," he said, " I think we had better
not show it. Not that I suppose we should meet anybody
who would care ; but they are as stupid as owls, and as much
frightened as rabbits. It was only that very same Monday,
thatwe met a whole company of Greasers (that is what my
men called them) ; and we had to show our passports."
Inez asked him what he showed ; and with quite unne-
cessary precision, — precision which did not escape Eunice's
quiet observation, — he toldher that he had, for his whole
party. Gov. Pedro de Nava's pass to Texas and to return that ;

he even had private letters from Gov. Casa Calvo to Cordero,

the general in command at the Alamo. Eunice said that the
marquis had been only too courteous in providing her also
with a passport for their whole party
; he would have sent
an escort, had his friend Mr. Perry suggested. " Indeed, the
whole army was at the service of the Donna Eunice, as he
tried to say, and would have said, had my poor name been
possible to Spanish lips. Why, Capt. Nolan, I have sealing-
wax enough and parchment enough for a king's ransom, if
your papers were not enough for us."
" My good right arm shall write my pass, in answer to my

prayers," said Nolan a little grimly. "Is not there some

such line as that in your father's Chapman, Miss Inez ?
And he bade them good-night, as he went to seek his quarters
in the wretched cabin by the very roar of the rapids, and inti-
mated to the ladies that they had best spread their mattresses,
and be ready for an early start in the morning.
In truth, Nolan was geographer enough to know that the
ladies had perhaps shown their flag a little too early; but he
would not abate a whit of the girl's enthusiasm for what, as
40 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

he said, and as she said, should have been her native land.
Even the novel-reader of to-day reads with an atlas of maps at
his side, and expects geographical accuracy even from the
Princess Scheherezade herself. The reader will understand
the precise position, by examining the little map below, which
is traced from an official report of that time.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 41

shore, had even fanciedthat she saw her own land, and was
for once breathing what should have been her native air.
As the boat hauled into the Red River, she had hidden her
head in Eunice's lap, and had sobbed out,—
" This poor child is a girl without a country "
I
42 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER IV.

" "
SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS !

" The pine-tree dreameth of the palm,

The palm-tree of the pine." — Lord Houghton.
Philip Nolan had his reasons for avoiding long tarry at
the rapids ; and, when the new boat came with the party to
the little port of Natchitoches, he had the same reasons for
urging haste in the transfer of their equipment there. These
reasons he had unfolded to Eunice, and they were serious.
After all the plans had been made for this autumn journey,
— plans which involved fatigue, perhaps, for the ladies, but
certainly no danger, — the Spanish officials of Louisiana on
the one side, and of Texas on the other, had been seized by
one of their periodical quaking-fits, —
fits of easy depression,

which were more and more frequent with every year. Nolan
had come and gone once and again, with Spanish passports
in full form, from the governor of Louisiana. The present
of a handsome mustang on his return would not be declined
by that officer ; and, as the horse grew older, he would not,
perhaps, be averse to the chances of another expedition^
With just such free-conduct was Nolan equipped now ; and
with his party of thirteen men he had
started from Natchez
on the up Miss Eunice and Miss Inez
Mississippi, to take
with their party at Natchitoches, the frontier station on the
Red River. Just before starting, however, the Spanish consul
at Natchez had called the party before Judge Bruin, the
United States judge there, as if they were filibusters. But
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 43

Nolan's passport from Don Pedro de Nava, the commandant

of the north-eastern provinces,was produced and the judge;

dismissed the complaint. This had been, however, only the

beginning of trouble. Before Nolan joined the ladies, he
had hardly passed the Mississippi swamp, —
had, in fact,
travelled only forty miles, —
when he met a company of fifty
Spanish soldiers, who had been sent out to stop him. Nolan's
party numbered but twenty-one. The Spaniards pretended
that they were hunting lost horses but, so soon as Nolan's
;

party passed, they had turned westward also, and were evi-
dently dogging them.
It was this unfriendly feeling on the part of those whom
he was approaching as a friend, which had led Nolan to
hasten his meeting with Eunice Perry and her niece, that he
might, before It was too late, ask them whether they would
abandon their enterprise, and return.
But Eunice boldly said " No." Her niece was, alas a !

Spanish woman born ; she was going to visit a Spanish officer

on his invitation. If she had to show her passports every
day, she could show them. If Capt. Nolan did not think
they embarrassed the party, she was sure that she would go
on if he did, why, she must return, though unwillingly.
:

" Not I, indeed, Miss Eunice. You protect us where we

meant to protect you. Only I do not care to cross these
Dogberrys more often than I can help."
So it was determined that they should go on, but go on —
without the little halt at Natchitoches, which had been
intended.
Inez shared in all the excitement of a prompt departure,
the moment the necessity was communicated to her. Before
sunrise she was awake, and dressed in the prairie dress which
had been devised for her. The four packs to which she had
been bidden to confine herself —
for two mules, selected and
ready at L'Ecore —
had been packed ever since they left
Orleans, let it be confessed, by old Ransom's agency, quite
as much as by any tire-woman of her train. She was only
44 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

too impatient while old Caesar, the cook, elaborated the last
river breakfast. She could not bear to have Eunice spend
so much time in directions to the patron, and farewells to
the boatmen, and messages to their wives. When it actually
came to the spreading a plaster which Tony was to take
back to his wife, for a sprain she had in her shoulder, Inez
fairlywalked off the boat in her certainty that she should
be even to Eunice, if she staid one minute longer.
cross,
Old Caesar, at the last moment, blubbered and broke down.
"Leave Miss Inez?" not he. What a pity that his voluble
Guinea-French is not translatable into any dialect of the
Anglo- American-Norman-Creole tongue! Leave her? not
he. He had her in his arms when she was an hour old. He
made her first doll out. of a bulrush and some raw cotton.
He tliipght her to suck sugar-cane ; and he picked pecan-meats
for her before her mother knew that she could eat them.
Should he leave her to be devoured alive by Caddo Indians ?
"jamais/ Imposible !

" Come along with us, then," said Nolan ; and he indicated
the mule which Caesar was to ride.
And Caesar came ; and his history is written in with that
of Texas for the next ten years.
As the sun rose, the party gathered in front of the little

shanty at which the most of the business of the landing was

done. Ransom himself lifted Inez upon her saddle, adjusted
the stirrups forty times, as he had not himself cut the holes
if

in the leathers, just as Inezbade him, a month before. No-

lan watched for Eunice's comfort with the same care. Caesar
blubbered and bragged, and sent messages to the old woman,
— messages which, if she ever received them, were the food
on which she fed for the next decade of married life. Nolan
was not displeased with the make-up of the little party.
They were but eight in all ; but there was not a bad horse, a
bad mule, a bad man, or a bad woman, in the train, he said.
What pleased him most was the prompt obedience of the
women, and the " shifty " readiness of the men. Old Ran-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 45

som scolded a good deal, but was in the right place at the
right time. And
avoiding the village of Natchitoches by
so,
an easy .detour, the party were in the wilderness an hour
before the military commander of that fort knew that a boat
had arrived from below, late the night before.
When who had hailed her found that
the Spanish sentinel
her passengers had gone westward, he thought best not to
all

report their existence to the governor and so Philip Nolan's;

first manoeuvre to escape frontier Dogberry No. i was per-

fectly successful.
In less than five minutes the whole party were in the pines,
through which, over a sandy barren, they were to ride for
two days. It was as if they had changed a world. To
'
Eunice, why, the sniff of that pine fragrance was the renewal
of the old life of her childhood. To Inez not unused to —
forests, but all unused to pine-trees —
the calm quiet of all
around, the aromatic fragrance, the softness of the pine-
leaves on which her horse's feet fell, all wrought a charm
which overpowered the girl.
" Don't speak to me " !

And they left her alone.

" Does this seem more like home. Ransom ? " said Nolan,

letting his horse stand till the old man, who brought up the
rear, might join him.
"Yes, sir! Pines is pines, though these be poor things.
Pine-trees down East isn't crooked as these be; good for
masts, good for yards ; sawed one on 'em into three pieces
when they wanted three masts for the 'Constitution.' But
these has the right smell. These's good for kindlin's."
" You followed the sea once. Ransom ?
" Sarved under old Mugford first year of the war ; was
Manly's bo's'n when he went out in '77."
" Mugford ? " asked Nolan. " I don't remember him."
" Pity you don't. Real old sea-dog ; wasn't afraid of salt-
petre. These fellers now, with their anchors, and gold braid
on they coat-collars, don't know nothin'. Old Mugford
46 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

never wore gold lace; didn't have none to wear. Wore a

tarpaulin and a pea-jacket, when he could git it; ef he
couldn't git it, wore nothin'."
" Where did you cruise ? "
" All along shore. out arter Howe when the gineral
Went
druv him out of Boston. Kind o' hung round and picked up
this vessel and that, that was runnin' into the bay, cos they
didn't know the British was gone. Took one vessel with six
guns, and no end of powder and shot. The old gineral he
was glad enough of that, he was. No end of powder and

shot: six guns she had. Took her runnin' into the bay.
We was in the '
Franklin '
then."
" Tell us all about it. Ransom."
"That's all they is to tell. I sighted our nine-pounder
myself, — hulled her three times, and she struck. Old Mug-
ford sent her into Boston, and stood off for more."
And the old man looked into the sky with that wistful look
again, as if armed vessels,
the very clouds would change into
and renew the fight j and for a moment Nolan thought he
would say no more. But he humored him.
" Next mornin'," said Ransom, after a minute, " next —
mornin', when we was to anchor off the Gut, be hanged if
they warn't thirteen boats from some of their frigates crawlin'
up to us as soon as the light broke. We giv 'em blazes,
cap'n. We sunk five on 'em without askin' leave. Then
they thought they'd board us. Better luck 'nother time.
Gosh Poor devils caught hold of her gunnel ; and we cut
!

off their hands with broad-axes, we did."

" And Mugford ?
" Oh you know Mugford reached arter one on 'em to cut
!

at his head, and he got stuck just here with a boardin' pike,
'n he called Abel Turner. I stood with him in ma own arms.
He called Abel Turner, and says he, I'm a dead man. Tur- '

ner: don't give up the vessel. Beat 'em off, beat 'em off.
You can cut the cable,' says he, and run her ashore.' '

Didn't say 'nother word fell down dead.":

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 47

Another pause. Nolan humored him still, and said noth-

ing. And, after another wistful glance at the heavens, the
old man went on,
" Turner see the frigate was comin' down on him, and he
run her ashore on Puddin' Point ; and he sot fire to her, so
that cruise was done. But none o' them fellers was ever
piped to grog again, they wasn't; no, nor old Mugford,
neyther."
A long pause, in whichNolan let the old fellow's reminis-
cences work as they might he would not interrupt him.
:

But when he saw the spell had been fairly broken by some
littledetention, as they cared for the ladies in the crossing of
a " sloo " or water-course, Nolan said to his old friend cau-
tiously, —
"Did you see the general ? Did you see Gen. Washington
when he drove Howe out ? "
Nolan spoke with that kind of veneration for Washington's
name which was then, perhaps, at its very acme, at the —
period when the whole country was under the impress of his
recent death.
" Guess I did. Seen him great many times. I was standin'
right by him when he cum into the old tavern at the head
of King Street, jest where the pump is, by the Town House.
Gage boarded there, and Howe and Clinton had they quar-
ters there ; and so the gineral come there when our army
marched in.
" They was a little gal stood there starin' at him and all
the rest j and he took her up, and he kissed her, he did.
" 'Ne said to her, Sis,' says he, which do you like best,
' '

the redcoats or the Yankees ? 'N the child says, says she,
'

she liked the redcoats the best, —

gal-like, you know, cos —
they looked so nice. 'N he laughed right out, 'ne says to
her, Woll,' says he, they du have the best clothes, but it
' '

takes the ragged boys to du the fightin'.' Oh, I seen him lots
o' times."

By this time Nolan thought he might venture to join Inez

48 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

again. She was now talking eagerly with her aunt, and
seemed to have passed the depressed moment which the
young soldier had respected, and had left to her own reso-
lution.
The truth was, that a ride through a pine-forest in begin-
ning a journey so adventurous, with no immediate possibility
of a return to her father's care, had started the girl on the
train of memories and other thoughts which stirred her most
completely. For her mother she had a veneration, but it
was simply for an ideal being. For her aunt she had an
idolatrous enthusiasm, which her aunt wholly deserved. For
the French and Spanish ladies and gentlemen around her, in
their constant wars and jealousies with each other, she had
even an undue contempt. Her father's central and profound
interest in his own country and its prosperity came down to
her in the form of a chivalrous passion for people she had
never seen, and institutions and customs which she knew
only in the theory or the idea. It would be hard, indeed, to
tell whether her Aunt Eunice's more guarded narrative of

her early life, or old Ransom's wild exaggerations of the

glories of New England, had the most to do with a loyalty
for the newly born nation which the girl found few ways to
express, and indeed few ears to listen to.
Such a dreamer found herself now, for the first time, in the
weird silence of a pine-forest, which she fancied must be pre-
home. Nor
cisely like the silent pine-groves of her father's
was any one cruelenough to undeceive her by pointing out
the differences. She could hear the soughing of the wind,
as if it had been throwing up the waves upon the beach.
Her horse's feet fell noiseless on the brown carpet of leaves
below her. And she was the centre, if not the commander,
of a party all loyal to her, — strangers in a strange land,
threatened perhaps, as itseemed, by the minions of this king
she despised, though it was her bad luck to be born under his
banner.
" Surely," she said to herself, " I am escaping from my
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 49

thraldom, if it be only for a few days. I am a woman now ;

and in these forests, at least, I am an American."
In this mood Nolan found her.
" You have been talking with my dear old Ransom, Capt.
Nolan."
"Yes: he has been telling me of his battles. Did you
know how often the old fellow has been under "
fire ?

" Know it ? Could I not tell you every shot he fired in the
'
Franklin '
? Don't know every word of Mugford's, and
I
every cruise of Manly's ? I love to make him tell those old
stories. Capt. Nolan, why did we not live in such times ? "
" Perhaps we do."
" Do ? I wish I thought so !
" cried the girl. " The only
battles I see are the madame superior's battles with his excel-
lency the governor, whether the Donna Louisa shall learn a
French verb or not. I am sick of their lies and their shilly-
"
shally : are not you ?

" There is no harm in saying to you that for two years I

have been hoping to lead a hundred riflemen down this very
trail."

"Thank you, Capt. Nolan, for saying something which

sounds so sensible. Take my hand upon it, and count me
for number one when the time comes to enlist. Have you
been in battle, captain ? or are you a captain like " — and
she paused.
Nolan laughed.
" Like the governor's aids yonder, with their feathers
and
their gold lace Woe's me, Miss Inez the powder I have
? !

burned has been sometimes under fire from the Comanches,

sometimes when I did not choose to be scalped by another
redskin, but nothing that you would call war."
" But you have been in the army. You brought Capt.
Pope to our house, and Lieut. Pike."
" Oh, yes If being with army men will help you, count
!

me one. A good many of the older officers were in the war,

you know. Gen. Wilkinson was, and Col. Freeman was.
so PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

There is no end to their talk of war days. But I — I did

nothing but train, as we called it, with the volunteers at
Franlifort, when we thought the Indians would burn us out
of house and home."
" Did you never —
did you never Capt. Nolan, don't —
think it a foolish question —
did you never see Washington ?
" Oh, no " he said, with a tone that showed her that he
!

would not laugh at her eagerness. " But these men have
Wilkinson has ; Freeman has. They will talk by the hour to
you about what he said and did. I wish they had all loved
him as well then as they say they did now. But really, Miss
Inez, I do believe, that, in the trying times that are just now
coming, young America going to be true to old America.
is

These twenty years have not been for nothing."

" Say it again," said the girl, with more feeling than can
be described.
" Why, what goes there ? " cried Nolan.
He dashed forward ; but this time old Ransom rose before
him, and was the person to receive the challenge of a Span-
ish trooper.
The man was in the leathern garments of the wilderness
but he had a sash round his waist, a cockade in his hat, and
a short carbine swinging at his saddle, distinct enough evi-
dences that he belonged to the Spanish army. In a moment
more, the whole group of cavaliers approached him, so that
the conversation, if such it may be called, which he began
with Ransom, was continued by others of the party.
The Spanish horseman volubly bade them stop in the
and show who they were. He had orders to
king's name,
arrest all travellers, and turn them back.
" What did you tell him. Ransom ? " said Eunice, as soon
as she came up.
" Told him to go and be hanged. Told him he hadn't got
no orders to arrest us, cos the gov'ner had sent us. Told
him he didn't know nothin' about it. Ye brother hed made
it all right with the gov'ner, and had gone to
see the king
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 51

about it. Wen I told him about the king, he seemed fright-
ened, and said he would see."
The appearance of the Spanish sergeant was indeed a
surprise to all parties. Nolan had told Eunice that they
should meet no one before they came to the Sabine River,
and that he would keep himself out of the way when that
time came and now they had stumbled on just such another
;

party as he met the week before, sent out, as it would seem,

simply to look after him. Eunice, however, was quite ready
for the emergency.
She saluted the Spanish sergeant most courteously, apolo-
gized in a few well-chosen words of very good Castilian for
her servant's " impetuosity," and gave to the sergeant a little
travelling-bag whichhad swung at her saddle, telling him,
that, if it, he would find the pass which the
he would open
Marquis of Casa Calvo had provided for them, and his
recommendation to any troops of Gen. Cordero.
" I cannot be grateful enough," she said, " to the good
Providence which has so soon given to us the valorous
protection of the chivalrous soldiers of the king of
Spain."
The sergeant bowed, a good deal surprised, did not say he
could not read, as he might have said with truth ; but, touch-
ing his hat with courtesy, turned to an officer approaching
him, whose dress had rather more of cloth and rather less
of leather than his own, and indicated that he would show
the passport to him.
Capt. Morales opened and scrutinized both papers, re-
turned them silently to the leather satchel, and, with a low
bow, gave it back to Eunice.
" This is a sufficient pass for yourself, my lady, and for
the senorita who accompanies you, and for your party. How
many of these gentlemen and servants are of your party ?

My officer here will fill out the verbal catalogue, which the
secretary of the marquis has omitted."
"Let me present the Senorita Perry, my niece. Here is
52 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

my major-domo ; these three are servants with their duties

in her household ; the old negro yonder is our cook."
The lieutenant entered on his tablet this answer, and
Capt. Morales said, —
"And who is the hidalgo behind you, — the gentleman
who "
says nothing ?
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." S3

CHAPTER V,

SAVE ME FROM MY FRIENDS.

" My heart's uneasiness is simply told, —

I hate the Greeks, although they give me gold
This firm right hand shall foil my foemen's ends,
If Heaven will kindly save me from my friends."
After Dryden.

" Let me present my friend," said Eunice at once, without

the slightest confusion.
Nolan meanwhile was sitting listlessly on his horse, as if
he did not understand one word of the colloquy.
" Mons. Philippe Mons. Philippe " cried Eunice, turning
! !

to him eagerly; and, as he rode up, she addressed him in

French, saying, " Let me present you to Capt. Morales."
And then to this officer,
" This my friend, Mons. Philippe, a partner of my brother
is

in his business, to whom in his absence in Paris he has left

the charge of us ladies. He is kind enough to act as the
intendant of our little party. May I ask you to address him
in French ?

who was" already a little

In this suggestion Capt. Morales,
suspiciouswhen he found a woman conducting the principal
conversation of this interview, found a certain excuse. The
Spanish officers government of Louisiana all spoke
in the
who were under their command.
'

French, as the people did

They were, indeed, in large measure chosen from the Low
Countries, that they might be at home in that language.
But there was no reason for such selection in the appoint-
54 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

ment of officers who served in ; nor

Mexico, like Morales
could Eunice, at the first glance, be supposed to know
whether he spoke French or not.
In truth, he did speak that language very And, after a
ill.

stately " Bon jour" his first Mons. Philippe

questions to
halted and broke so badly, that with a courtly smile he ex-
cused himself, and said that if the lady would have the good-
ness to act as interpreter, he would avail himself of her
mediation.
"Your name is not mentioned on this lady's passport,
Mons. Philippe."
" I was not in Orleans when it was granted. It is, I be-
lieve, a general permit to the Donna Eunice Perry and her

party."
" Have you, then, lately arrived from Paris ?
" The worshipful Don Silas has just now sailed for Paris.
For myself, I only overtook the ladies, by the aid of horses
often changed, at the rapids of the Red River. I count
myself fortunate that I overtook them. His Excellency was
himself pleased to direct me to use every means at his com-
mand in their service, and I have done so."
Nolan would not have said this were it not true. Strange
to say, it was literally and perfectly true. For one of the
absurdities of the divided command which gave Louisiana
to one Spanish governor, and Texas to another, at this time,
was the preposterous jealousy which maintained between
these officers a sort of armed or guarded relation, as if one
were a Frenchman because his province had a French name,
and only the other were a true officer of the Catholic king,
— an absurdity, but not an unusual absurdity. Just such an
made the discord between
absurdity, not twenty years before,
Cornwallis and Clinton, which gave to Washington the vic-
tory of Yorktown, and gave to America her independence.
So was it, that, while the Marquis of Casa Calvo at New
Orleans was Nolan's cordial friend, Elguesebal in Texas and
De Nava at Chihuahua were watching and dogging him as
an enemy.
 OR, "SffOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 55

" Will my lady ask the hidalgo what was the public news
in Paris ? Our two crowns, — or, rather, his Catholic Ma-
crown and the First Consul of France,
jesty's they are in —
good accord ? What were the prospects of the treaty ? "
"France and Spain were never better friends," replied
Nolan, "if all is true that seems. The public journals
announce the negotiations of a treaty. Of its articles more
secret, even the Capt. Morales will pardon me if I do not
speak. He will respect my confidence."
The truth was, that even at this early moment a suspicion
was haunting men's minds, of what was true before the
month was over, —
that by the treaty of Ildefonso the
Spanish king would cede the territory of Louisiana to Napo-
leon.
Capt. Morales had heard some rumor of this policy, even
in Nacogdoches. The allusion to it made by Nolan con-
firmed him in his first young Frenchman,
suspicion, that this
who could speak no Spanish, was some unavowed agent of
the First Consul, Napoleon.
If he were, it was doubtless his own business to treat him
with all respect.
At the moment, therefore, that Nolan confessed he must
speak with reserve, the Spaniard's doubts as to his character
gave way entirely. He offered his hand frankly to the young
Frenchman, and bade him and the lady rely on his protection.
" Your party is quite too small," he said. " I am only

sorry that I cannot detail a fit escort for you. But I am

charged with a special duty, —
the arrest of an American
freebooter who threatens us with an army of Kenny Ken- —
ny — tuckians. The Americans have such hard names
They are indeed allies of the savages. But I will order four
of my troopers to accompany you to Nacogdoches, and the
commandant there can do more for you."
Nolan and Eunice joined in begging him not to weaken
his force. They were quite sufficient for their own protec-
tion, they said. The servants were none of them cowards.
S6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

and had had some experience with their weapons. But the
captain was firm in his Castilian politeness and, as any un- ;

due firmness on their part in rejecting so courteous an offer

must awaken his suspicions, they were obliged to comply
with his wish, and accept the inopportune escort which he
provided for them.
Inez, meanwhile, wild with curiosity and excitement, as the
colloquy passed through its and
different stages of suspicion
of confidence, had not dared express her fear, her amusement,
or her surprise, even by a glance. She saw it was safest for
her to drop her veil, and to sit the impassive Castilian maiden,
fresh from a nunnery, which Capt. Morales supposed her to be.
As for old Ransom, the major-domo of Eunice's establish-
ment, he sat at a respectful distance, heeding every word of
the conversation, in whatever language it passed, with a face
as free from expression as the pine-knot on the tree next
him. Once and again he lifted his eyes to the heavens with
was rather the glance of an
that wistful look of his, which
astronomer than of a devotee. But the general aspect of the
man was of an impatient observer of events, who had himself,
Cassandra-like, stated in advance what must be and was to
be, and was now grieved that he must await the slow pro-
cesses of meaner intelligences.
At last his patience was relieved. Capt. Morales drew
from his haversack a slip of paper, on which he wrote :
—
" By order of the King
Know men, that the Lady Eunice and Lady Inez, with Mons. Philippe,
all

the intendant of their household, with one Ransom and four other ser-
vants, have free
Pass and Escort
to the King's loyal city of San Antonio
Bexar ; under direction of the military commandant, and after inspection
t>y me. Morales,
Captain of Artillery.
Long live the King "
!

He then told off a corporal or sergeant with three troopers,

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 57

and bade them, nothingloath, accompany the Orleans party

toNacogdoches. He gave his hand courteously to the Senora
Eunice and Mons. Philippe, touched his hat as courteously
to the Senorita Inez, and even threw his party into military
order as the others passed, and gave them a military salute
as his last farewell.
" Save me from my friends," said Nolan, as he joined the
Donna Eunice after this formality was oyer, and each party
was out of sight of each other, " Save me from my friends
This civility of your friend the captain is more inconvenient
to us than the impudence of my captain on the prairie
yonder."
" I see it is," said Eunice thoughtfully. " I am afraid I
have done wrong. But really, Capt. Nolan, I was so eager
to take you under our protection —
I knew my brother would

be so glad to serve you —

I thought the governor had this
very purpose in his mind —
that I thought, even if the truth
was for once good policy, I would tell him the truth still."
And she pretended to laugh, but she almost cried.
" Of course you could tell him nothing else," said he.
" Indeed I could not. Nobody could ask me actually to
betray you by name to your enemies."
" I hope not," said the Kentuckian, laughing without re-

serve. " If indeed they are my enemies. I wish I could tell

them at sight. If they would show their colors as they make

us show ours, it would be well and good," he added. " If,
when we see a buckskin rascal with the King of Spain's
cockade, he would wear a feather besides, to say whether he
is a Texan Spaniard or an Orleans Spaniard, that would do.

But pray do not be anxious. Miss Eunice. My anxieties are

almost over now. I can take good care of myself, and the
King of Spain seems likely to take care of you. I am well
disposed to believe old Ransom, that your father has gone to
tell him all aboyt it."
the king to
Eunice said that she did not see how he could speak so.
How could he bring his party up to them, if there were these
four spies hanging on all the way ?
58 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" I can see," replied Nolan, laughing, " that dear Ransom

would like nothing better than to blow out their brains, and
throw them all into the next creek. But really that is a very-
ungracious treatment of men who only want to take care of
fair ladies. We
must not be jealous of their attentions."
Then he added more seriously, —
" I am afraid this meeting may cut off from me the pleasure

of many such rides as this ; and, believe me, I have looked

forward eagerly to more of them than was reason. As soon
as these fellows will spare me, I must ride across and meet
my party, and warn them not to come too near your line of
travel. But I can put another '
intendant ' in my place, and,
if need be, more than one ; and I can leave you the satisfac-

tion, if it is any, to know that I am not far away."

" If it is any ! What would my brother think, if he did not
suppose that you were behind Inez, and five before,
five of

five on the right hand, and five on the left ? Still I suppose

we are perhaps even safer now." This somewhat anxiously.

" Dear Miss Eunice, you are never so safe in this world as
when you make no pretence of strengtli, while in truth you
are well guarded. When I am weak, then I am strong."
This he said with his voice dropping, and very reverently.
" If this is true in the greatest things, if it is true in trials
where the Devil is nearest, all the more is it true in the wilder-
ness. A large party, with the fuss of its encampment, attracts
every Bedouin savage and every cut-throat Greaser within a
hundred miles. They come together like crows. But a hand-
ful of people like yours will most likely ride to San Antonio
without seeing savage or Christian, except such as are at the
fort and the ferries. Then, the moment these four gentlemen
are tired of you, I shall be in communication, and my men
in buckram will appear."
" Men in buckram ! that is too bad," said Inez, who had
joined their colloquy. "Where, may your men in buckram
"
be justnow ?
" They are a good deal nearer to us than your admirer,
 OR, "SffOW POUR PASSPORTS." 59

Capt. Morales, supposes. But he is riding away from them

as fast as he can ride, and they are riding away from him at.
a pace more moderate. You shall see. Miss Inez, when the
camping-time comes, whether my men are in buckram, in
•broadcloth, or in satin."
Sure enough, when the sun was within an hour of setting,
as that peerless October day went by, the little party, passing
out from a tract rather more thickly wooded than usual, came
out upon a lovely glade, where the solitude was broken. Two
tents were pitched, and on one of them a little blue flag
floated. Three or four men in leathern hunting-shirts were
lying on the ground, but sprang to their feet the moment the
new party appeared.
" My lady is at home," said Nolan, resuming the mock air
of formal courtesy with which he and Inez so often amused
themselves. " My
backwoodsmen have come in advance, as
Puss in Boots did, to arrange for my lady's comfort."
"Are these your men You are too careful, captain, or
'i

too careless, I do not know which to say, too careful for —

me, and too careless for your own safety."
" That for my safety," said the reckless young man, snap-
ping his fingers. " If your ladyship sleeps well, we ask
nothing more. To say true, my lady, I am the most timid of
men : praise me for my prudence. Were I not caution per-
sonified, I shouldhave commanded William yonder to fly the
stars and stripes over your majesty's tent. But I had care
for your majesty's comfort. I knew these Greasers would
know those colors too well."
" And he has ! and he has ! Oh, you are good, Capt.
Nolan ! — See, aunty, the flag that flies over us !
"

There is many a girl in Massachusetts who reads these

words, who does not know that the flag of her own State dis-
plays on a blue field a shield bearing' an Indian proper and
a star argent —
which means an Indian painted in his own
manner as he is, and a star of silver. But in those days each
State had had to subsist for itself, even to strike its own coin,
6o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

and often to fight under its own flag and this New England
;

who had never seen New England, knew the cognizance

girl,

of her own land as well as the Lotties and Fannies and

Aggies — the Massachusetts girls of to-day — know the cog-
nizance of England or of Austria.
"Welcome home, ladies," said the tall, handsome young
soldier, who took Eunice's horse by the head, while Nolan
lifted her from the saddle.
" This is the ladies' own tent, captain. We have set the
table in the other." And the ladies passed in at the tent-
door to find the hammocks swung for them, two camp-stools
open, a little table cut with a hatchet from the bark of large

pines, and covered with a white napkin, on which Stood

ready a candlestick and a tinder-box; and another rough
table like it, with a tin basin full of water j and two large
gourds, tightly corked, on the pine carpet at its side.
" We are in a palace,'' cried Inez. " How can we thank
"
these gentlemen enough for their care .?

" I must tell you who they are. —

Why, William, where
have the others gone . —
Miss Eunice, Miss Inez, this is my
other self, William Harrod. William, you knew who these
ladies were long before you saw them. Ladies, if I told you
that William Harrod was Ephraim Harrod's brother, it would
not help you. If I said he was the best marksman in the
great valley, you would not care. When I say he is the best
fellow that lives, you must believe me."
" Leave them to find that out, captain."
" The captain tells enough when he says you are his other
self. In a country like this, one is glad to find two Philip
Nolans."
Old Ransom and his party, meanwhile, were a little dis-
gusted that the preparations they had made for the mistress's
accommodation on her first night away from the river should
be thus put in the shade by the unexpected encampment on
which they had lighted. Before their journey was finished,
they were glad enough to stumble on cattle-shed or abandoned
 OR, "SHOW YOUR JPASSPORTS." 6l

camp which might save them from the routine of uncording

and cording up tlieir tents ; but to be anticipated on the very
first night of camp-life was an annoyance. Wlien, Iiowever,
Ransom found that these were Capt. Nolan's people, and
that the preparation had been dictated by his forethought,
his brow cleared, and the severe animadversions by which he
had at first condemned every arrangement changed, more
suddenly than the wind changes, into expressions of approval
as absolute.
While the ladies were preparing for the supper. Ransom
amused himself with the Spanish soldiers.
One of them had asked what the flag was which was dis-
played above the ladies' tent.
" Ignorant nigger " said Ransom afterward, as he detailed
!

the conversation to Miss Eunice. (The man was no more a

negro than Ransom was ; but it was his habit to apply this
phrase to all persons of a Southern race.) " Ignorant nigger

I axed him he didn't know the private signal uv his own

ef
king. him the king uv Spain, when he went out to
I told
ride with the ladies uv the court, or when he sot at dinner in
his own pallis, had that 'ere flag flyin' over his throne. I

told him that he gin your brother a special permit to use it,
wen he gin him the star of San lago for wot he did in the
war with the pirates."
" Ransom ! how could you " said Eunice, trying to look
!

forbidding, while Inez was screaming with delight, and beck-

oning to her new friend, Mr. Harrod, to listen.
" Only way with 'em, marm. They all lies and, ef you ;

don't lie to 'em, they dunno wot you mean. Answer a fool
accordin' to his folly, is the rule, mum. Heerd it wen I was
a boy. Wen I'm in Turkey, I do as the turkeys do, marm :

t-hey ain't no other way."

Caesar appeared, grinning, and said that supper was ready.

One of Harrod's aids stood at the door of the second of his
tents, saluted as his officer and Nolan led the ladies in ; and

Ceesar and Ransom followed, — Caesar to wait upon the hun-

62 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

gry travellers, and Ransom in his general capacity of major-

domo, or critic-in-chief of all that was passing.
" We give you hunters' fare," said Nolan, who took the
place and bearing of the host at the entertainment ;
" but
you have earned your appetites."
" It would be hard if two poor girls could not be satisfied
with roasted turkey j with venison, if that be venison ; with
quails, if and with rabbits, if those be rabbits,
those be quails ;

— let alone the grapes and melons. You must have thought
we had the appetite of the giant Blunderbore."
" I judged your appetite by my own," said Nolan, laughing.
" As for Harrod, he is a lady's man he has no appetite ; but
:

perhaps he will pick a bone of the merry-thought of this

intimation of a partridge " and he laid the bone on the plate
;

of his laughing friend.

The truth was that the feast was a feast for kings. It was
served with Csesar's nicest and with the more useful
finish,

science and precision of the hunters. Ransom had made

sure that a little travelling table-service, actually of silver,
should be packed for the ladies ; and in this forest near the
Sabine, under their canvas roof, they ate from a board as
elegantly appointed as any in Orleans or in Mexico, partak-
ing of fare more dainty than either city could command. So
much for the hardships of the first day of the campaign.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 63

CHAPTER VI.

GOOD-BY.

" The rule of courtesy is thus expressed

Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest."
Menelaus in the Odyssey.

"When hunger now and thirst were fully satisfied," Nolan

called Ransomto him, and asked the old man in an under-
tone where the Spanish soldiers were.
" They's off by they own fire. Made a fire for theyselves.
The men asked 'em to supper, and gin 'em all the bacon and
whiskey they'd take. Poor devils"! don't often have none.
Now they's made they own fire, and is gamblin' there."
By the word "gambling," Ransom distinguished every
game of cards, however simple. In this case, however, it is

probable that he spoke within the mark.

" Then we can talk aloud," said Nolan. " A tent has but
one fault, — that you are never by yourself in it. You do
not know what redskin or panther is listening to you."
Then he went on :
—
"William, I have kept myself well out of these rascals'
sight all the afternoon. I have not looked in their faces,
and they have not looked in mine. For this I had my rea-
sons. And I think, and I believe the ladies will think, that
if you put on my cap and this hunting-shirt to-morrow, and

permit me to borrow that more elegant equipment of yours,

— if you will even take to yourself the name and elegant

bearing of 'Mons. Philippe,' supposed chargi d'affaires gf

64 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

the Consul Bonaparte, and certainly partner of Mr. Silas

Perry, — you may serve the ladies as well as at the Spanish
guard-house yonder ; and I shall serve them better even than
you, in returning for a day or two to our friends in buck-
ram."
The ladies asked with some eagerness the reasons for
such a change ; moment they were satisfied that
but in a
Nolan was in the right. Any stray officer at the fort might
recognize him, well known as he was all along the frontier,
and on both sides of it and, on the other hand, his own
;

direction to his own party was, of course, the most valuable

to all concerned. There was some laugh at the expense of
the forest gear which was to be changed. The fringes to the
hunting-shirts were of different dyes; one hat bore a rabbit's

tail,and one the feather of a cardinal but, for the two men,
:

they were within a pound of the same weight, and a hair-

breadth of the same size, as Harrod said, and he said it
proudly.
" My other self, I told you," said Nolan and then he ;

assumed the mock protector, and charged the ladies that

they must go to bed for an early start in the morning.
At sunrise, accordingly, the pretty little camp was on the
alert. All the tents, except those of the ladies, were struck
before they were themselves awake. Their toilet was not
long, though it was elaborate ; and when Inez stepped out
from her sleeping-apartment, and looked in to see the prog-
ress breakfast had made, she was provoked with herself that
she was the first person deceived by the new-made Dromio.
She slyly approached Mr. Harrod, who stood at the table
with his back to her, tapped him smartly on the shoulder,
and said, —
" Philopoena Capt. Nolan, my memory is better than
!

—
you think " to have the handsome "other self" turn round,
and confuse her with his good-natured welcome.
" Philopoena ! indeed, Miss Perry, but it was not I who ate
tlje almond with you,"
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 65

"To think it," said the girl, "that a bird's feather and a
strip of purple leather should change one man into another
Well, I thought I was a better scout. Do you know I en-
listed among Capt. Nolan's rifles yesterday? If only my
'well-beloved sovereign would make war with you freemen, he
would not find me among his guards."
The girl's whole figure was alive and Harrod understood ;

at once that she did not dislike the half-equivocal circum-

stances in which they stood, —
of measuring strength and
wit against the officers of the Spanish king.
Breakfast was as elegant and dainty as supper ; but the
impetuous and almost imperious Inez could not bear that
they should sit so long. For herself, she could and would
take but one cup of coffee. How people could sit so over
their coffee, she could not see 1
" Another slice from the
turkey ? " No ! Had she not eaten corn-cake and venison,
and grapes and fricasseed rabbit, all because Ransom had
cooked or gathered them himself for her ? Would dear Aunt
Eunice never be done ?
Dear Aunt Eunice only laughed, and waited for her second
cup to cool, and sipped it by teaspoonfuls, and folded her
napkin as leisurely as if she had been on the plantation, and
as if none of them had any thing to do but to look at their
watches till the hour for lunch-time came.

" Miss Perry," said Harrod to her, " I believe you are a

soldier'sdaughter ?
" Indeed I am," said Eunice heartily, and then, with a
laugh, " and a rifleman's aunt, I understand, or a rifle-

woman's."
" Any way, you dear old plague, you have at last drunk

the last drop even you can pretend you want, and I do be-
lieve you have given the last fold to that napkin. — Gentle-
"
men, shall we not find it pleasanter in the air ?

And she dropped a mock courtesy to them, sprang out of

the tent singing, —
" Hark, hark, tantivy : to horse, my brave boys, and away !
66 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

And away they went. The same delicious fragrance of the

pines ; the exquisite freshness of morning ; the song of birds

not used to travellers ; the glimpses now and then of beasts

four-footed, who were

scarcely afraid Every thing combined
!

to inspirit theyoung people, and to make Inez rate at its-

very lowest the danger and the fatigue of the expedition.
Until they should neighborhood of the Spanish
come to the

post at San Augustine, the two united parties were to remain

together. To the escort provided by the eagerness or sus-
picion of Capt. Morales, the rencontre of the night before
was only the ordinary incident of travel, in which two parties
of friends had met each other, and encamped together.
That they should make one body as they went on the next
day, was simply a matter of course. Nolan, therefore, had the
pleasure of one day's more travel with his friends ; and, if the
ladies had had any sense of insecurity, they would have had
the relief of his presence and that of his backwoodsmen.
But at this period they had no such anxiety except for him.
With laugh and talk and song of the four, therefore, varied
by more serious colloquy as they fell into couples, two and
two, the morning passed by ; and Inez and Eunice were both
surprised when the experienced backwoodsmen ordered the
halt for lunch. They could not believe that they had taken
half the journey for the day. But the order was given ; the
beasts were relieved of their packs ; a shaded and sheltered
spot was chosen for the ladies' picnic ; and to Ransom was
given this time all the responsibility and all the glory of their
meal.
was hardly begun, when, from the turn which screened
It
the on the west, there appeared an Indian on horseback ;
trail

and, as Nolan sprang to his feet to welcome him, the rest of a

considerable party of Indians, men and women and children,
with all the paraphernalia of an encampment, appeared.
The leading man, whose equipment and manner showed,
any one ranked as chief of the little tribe, he
that, so far as
assumed that honor, came readily forward ; and, after a min-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 67

ute's survey, at Nolan's invitation he dismounted, and did

due honor to a draught of raw West Indian rum which Nolan
offered him in one of the silver cups which he took from the
table. But, when Nolan addressed him in some gibberish
which he said the Caddoes would understand, the chief inti-
mated that he did not know what he meant. He did this by
holding his hand before his face with the palm outward, and
shaking it to and fro.
Nolan was a connoisseur in Indian dialects, and tried suc-
cessively three or four different jargons ; but the chief made
the sign of dissent to each, and intimated that he was a
Lipan. Nolan had tried him in the dialects of the Adeyes,
the Natchez, and the Caddoes, with which he himself was
sufficiently familiar.
" Lipan !
" he said aloud to his friends. " What devil has
sent the Lipans so far out of their way ?

With the he dropped the effort to speak in articulate

other,
language, and into a graceful and rapid pantomime, which
fell

the chief immediately understood, which Harrod followed

with interest, and sometimes joined in, and in which two or
three other lesser chiefs, still sitting on their horses, took
their part as well.
Nothing could be more curious than this silent, rapid, and
animated colloquy. Inez and Eunice looked from face to
face, wholly unable to follow the play of the conversation,
but certain that to all the interlocutors it was entirely intelli-
gible. To all the tribes west of the river, indeed, there was
this common language of pantomime, intelligible to all,
though their dialects were of wholly distinct families of lan-
guage. It still subsists among the southern Indians of the
plains, and is perhaps intelligible to all the tribes on this
side the Rocky Mountains.^

1 The fullest account of this language of pantomime is probably from Philip

Nolan's own pen. It is preserved in the Sixth Volume of the Transactions of the

American Philosophical Society, and is the most considerable literary worl£ known
to me by this accomplished young man.
68 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Hands, arms, and were kept in rapid movement as

fingers
the colloquy went on. The men bent forward and back, from
right to left, now used the right arm, now the left, seemed to
describe figures in the air, or tapped with one hand upon the
other. An open hand seemed to mean one thing, a closed
hand another. The forefinger was pointed to one eye, or to
the forehead, or to the ear, now to the sun, now to the earth.
All the fingers of one hand would be set in rapid motion,
while the other hand indicated, as occasion might require,
the earth, the sky, a lake or a river.
The whole group of whites and negroes on the one hand,
and of " redskins " on the other, joined in a circle about the
five principal conversers. Harrod's party had some slight
understanding of the language, and occasionally gave some
slight interpretation to their companions as to what was
going on. All the Indians understood it in full, and, by

grunts and sighs, expressed their concurrence in the senti-

ments of their leaders.
The when Nolan took the right
interest reached its height,
hand of the savage chief, passed it under his hunting-shirt
and the flannel beneath it, so that it rested on the naked
heart. Both smiled as if with pleasure ; and after an instant,
by a reversal of the manoeuvre, Nolan placed his hand on the
heart of the Indian. Here was an indication, from each to
the other, that each heart beat true.
After this ceremony, Nolan called one of the scouts from
Harrod's party, and bade him bring a jug firom their own
stores. Then turning to Eunice he said, —
" Pray let all the redskin chiefs drink from your silver.
I had a meaning in using this cup when I treated Long-' '

Tail here. And now none of them must feel that we hold
ourselves above them. Perhaps they do not know that silver
rates higher than horn in the white men's calendar, but per-
haps they do."
Eunice had caught the idea already. She had placed five
silver cups on a silver salver, and so soon as the liquor ar-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 69

rived gave them to the scout to fill. The chiefs, if they were
chiefs, Nolan then, with a very-
grunted their satisfaction.
royal air, passed down their whole line, and gave to each a
bright red ribbon. It was clear enough that most of them
had never seen such finery. The distribution of it was wel-
comed much as it would have been by children and after a ;

general grunt, expressive of their satisfaction, the chief re-

sumed his seat on horseback, and the party took up its line
of march again.
" I asked them where they were going, and they lied ; I
asked them where they came from, and they lied," said Nolan
a little anxiously, as he resumed his own place by the out-
spread blanket, which was serving for a tablecloth on the
ground.
" They are hunting Panis," said Harrod ;
" and they did not
want to say so, because they supposed we were Spaniards.
But I never knew Lipans so far down on this trail before."
" No," said Nolan " I have never met Lipans but once or
:

twice, — you know when."

" I thought you were going to show them what was in your
heart."
Nolan laughed, and turned to the ladies.
" You would like to know what is in my heart, Miss Inez,
would you not ? How gladly would I know what is in yours
To say truth, like most of us, I was not quite ready for the
exposure ; and perhaps these rascals knew a little more than
is best for them. 'A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.'"
" What are you talking about ? " said Inez. " I hate rid-
dles, unless I can guess them."
Nolan produced from a secret fold in his pouch a little

convex mirror, highly polished, with long cords attached to it.

" The memory of man does not tell how long ago it was
that one of the French chiefs tied such a mirror as this on

his heart. Then, in a palaver with a redskin, monsieur said

he would show him what was in his heart, stripped his breast,
bade ' Screaming Eagle look, and, lo
' Screaming Eagle
! '
70 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

himself was there. One-Horned Buffalo looked, and

The ' '

lo !One-Horned Buffalo' was there."

'

" Lucky they knew themselves by sight," said Eunice.

"I have often thought of that. They would not have
known their own eyes and nose and mouth. But they did
know their feathers, their war-paint, and the rest and from ;

that moment he enjoyed immense renown with them.

" Nor do I count it a lie," said Nolan, after a pause.
" What is all language but signs, just such as we have all
been using ? Here was a sign carefully wrought out, like the
'
totem,' or star of theGolden Fleece,' which, according to
'

Ransom, the king your father. Miss Inez."

will give to
" I am sure I have them all in my heart. I am very fond
of them, and I wish them well so long as they are not scalp-
ing me ; and, when I am far enough from trading-houses, I
do not scruple to use the glass on my heart, as the best
symbol by which I can say so."
As they resumed the saddle, Inez begged her friends to
tell her more of this beautiful language of signs.
" It is twenty times as graceful as the pantomime of the
ballet troupe," said she.
" They all understand it," said Nolan, " at least as far as I
have ever gone. Harrod will tell you how it served us once
on the Neches."
" Itquickly learned," said Harrod, not entering on the
is

anecdote. " Indeed, it is simple, as these people are. See

here," said he eagerly " this is Water."
:

And he dropped his rein, brought both his hands into the
shape of a bowl, and lifted them to his mouth, without, how-
ever, touching it.

" Now, this is Rain," he added and he repeated the same

;

sign, lifting his hands a little and then suddenly

higher,
turned his fingers outward, and shook them rapidly to repre-
sent the falling of water.
" Snow is the same thing," he said, " only I must end with
white. This is white;" and with the fingers of his right hand
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 71

he rubbed on that part of the palm of the left which unites

the thumb with the fingers.
" Why is that white ? " said Inez, repeating the movement.
" Look in old Caesar's hand, and you will see," said
Harrod.
" Oh, yes II see ; how bright it all is But, Mr. Harrod,
!

"
how do you say go, and come 1 where do the verbs come in ?
" This is go," said he ; and he stretched his right hand out
slowly, with the back upward. " Here is come; " and he
moved his right finger from right to left, with a staccato move-
ment, in which the ladies instantly recognized the steps of a
man walking.
Harrod was perhaps hardly such a proficient in this pan-
tomime as was Nolan, to whom he often .turned when Inez
asked for some phrase more abstract than was the common
habit of the " bread-and-butter " talk of the frontier. But
the two gentlemen together were more than competent to
interpret to her whatever she asked for ; and, when at last
she began a game of whispering to Nolan what he should
repeat to Harrod, the precision and fulness of the interpre-
tation were as surprising as amusing.
" But you have not told us," said Eunice in the midst of
this, "
what you said to the Learned Buffalo, if that was his
name, and what he said to you, in all your genuflexions and
posturings."
" Oh ! I told you what they said, or that it was mostly lies.

They said they had lostsome horses, and had come all this
way to look for them. That is what an Indian always tells
you when he is on some enterprise he wants to conceal. He
said was fourteen days since he had seen any of his white
it

brethren. That was a lie. He stopped at Augustine last

night, and stole that cow-bell that was on the black mule.
He said Kis people had been fighting with the Comanches,
and took thirty-two scalps. That was a lie. I heard all
about it from a Caddo chief last week. The Comanches
whipped them, and they were glad to get away with the scalps
they wore."
72 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"The language of pantomime seems made to conceal

thought," said Inez.

" Oh he tells some truth.
! He says the Spaniards have a
new company of artillery atSan Antonio. He says your
aunt was out riding on the first day of October you can ask
:

her if that was true, when you see her. He says she had
with her a calash with two wheels, in which sat a black woman
who held a baby with a blue ribbon. I ought to have told
you tills first of all ; but this galimatias of his about the
Comanches put it out of my head."
Inex turned to him almost sadly. <

" Capt. Nolan, how can you tell me this nonsense ? Fun

is well enough, but you were so serious that you really cheated

me. I do not like it. I do not think you are fair." And in
an instant more the girl would be shedding tears.
" Indeed, indeed. Miss Inez ! good fellow, " I
" cried the

know when to fool, and when not. I have told you nothing
but what the man said to me. Blackburn " and he beckoned
!

to one of the mounted men who had accompanied Harrod,

"you saw this redskin, you know his signs. Miss Perry
thinks I must have mistaken his news from San Antonio."
The man was a rough fellow in his dress, but his manner
was courteous, with the courtesy of the frontier. " He said,
miss, that they left San Antonio when the moon had passed
its third quarter tliree days. He said that, the day before he
came away, a new company came up from below, with big
guns, — guns on carts, he called them, miss. He said that
same afternoon, the officer in command rode out horseback,
mum, and a lady with him and that a cart with a kiver over
j

it went behind, with a black hoss, miss. He said there was

a nigger-woman in the kivered cart, an' she had a white baby,
'n the baby had a blue ribbon round her head. I believe that

was all."
The man fell back, as he saw he was no longer wanted and ;

Inez gave her hand very prettily and frankly to Nolan, and
said, —
 on, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 73

" I beg your pardon, captain I was very unjust to you.

:

But this seemed impossible."

Harrod was greatly pleased with this passage, in its quiet
testimony to his leader's accomplishment, though it was an
accomplishment so far out of the common course. Nolan
had not referred to him because he had heard the interpre-
tation which Inez had challenged. The talk went on enthu-
siastically about the pantomime language ; and the young men
vied with each other in training the ladies to its manipulations,
so far as these were possible to people pinioned in their sad-
dles.
" You can say any thing in it," cried Inez.
" I don't. see that," said Eunice. " You can say any thing

a savage wants to say."

" Yo.u cannot say the Declaration of Independence," said
Harrod.
" Nor the Elegy in a Country Churchyard," said Nolan.
And so the day wore pleasantly by, till, as they came to
the ferry where they were to cross the Sabine, Nolan con-
fessed he had kept in company to the last moment possible,
and bade them, " for a few days at most," he said, farewell.
He left, as an escort, Harrod and the three scouts who had
joined with him. Harrod was willing to appear as Mons.
Philippe, and the others were to meet the Spanish challenge
as best they could. It might be, Nolatf said, that he should
have joined again before they had to pass inspection once
more.
74 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS :

CHAPTER VII.

THE SAN ANTONIO ROAD.

" I called to the maid

I whispered and said,
'
My pretty girl, teU to me,
The man on the sly
Who kissed you good-by, —
Is he Frenchman, or Portugee ? '"
Tom TatnaWs CourtsM^,

And so Philip Nolan bade his friends good-by for a day or

-two as they all supposed, but, as it proved, for a longer part-
ing.
The escort of a squad of Spanish cavalry, unexpected and
unsatisfactory as it was, removed the immediate or actual
necessity for the presence of his troop with the little party
of Eunice's retainers. None the less did he assure her that
he should rejoin the party with his larger force, though he
did think it advisable to keep these out of the sight of the
officers at the Spanish outposts. The outposts once passed,
he and his would journey in one part of the province as
easily as in another.
To a reader in our time,
it is difficult indeed to under-

stand why all machinery of passport should be main-

this
tained, or why Nolan should have had any anxiety about his
welcome. Such a reader must learn, and must remember,
therefore, that, under the old colonial system of Spain, the
crown held its colonies in the state of separation which we
speak of sometimes as Japanese or Paraguayan, though it
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 75

be now abandoned in both Japan and Paraguay. On the

theory that it was well to maintain colonies for the benefit of
what was called the metropolis, that is, the European state,
the people of the Spanish colonies were sternly forbidden to
manufacture any article which could be supplied from home.
With the same view, all trade between them and other na-
tions than the metropolis was absolutely forbidden ; and, to
prevent trade, all communication was forbidden excepting
at certain specified ports of entry, and with certain formal
passes. At the time with which we have to do, the people of
Mexico, and therefore the few scattered inhabitants of this
region which we now call Texas, a part of Mexico, were not
permitted to cultivate flax, hemp, saffron, the olive, the vine,
nor the mulberry and any communication between them and
;

the French colony of Louisiana, to the east of them, had

been strictly forbidden. What the line between Mexico and
Louisiana was, no man could certainly say ; but it was cer-
tain Natchitoches in Louisiana had been a French outpost,
while Nacogdoches in Texas, and San Antonio, were Mexican
outposts. The territory between the Rio Grande and the
Red River had always been claimed, with more or less tena-
city, by both crowns.

That there should be animosity between Mexico and Loui-

siana while one was French and one was Spanish, was natural
enough, even if the crowns of France and Spain were united
in a family alliance. It is not so easy to see why this ani-

mosity did not vanish when Louisiana became a Spanish

province, as it was in this year 1800, in which we are tracing
along our party of travellers. And it is certainly true that a
guarded trade was springing up between Orleans and Natchi-
toches on the one hand, and the Mexican province on the
other j but it is as sure that this trade was watched with the
utmost suspicion.
For it involved the danger, as the Mexican authorities saw,
of a violation of their fundamental principle of isolation.

They doubtless feared that the silver from their northern

76 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;.

mines might be a tempting bait to the wild Anglo-Americans

of the Mississippi, of whose prowess they heard tales which
would quite confirm the boast that their adventurers were half
horse and half alligator. Trade with the civilized French-
men, who had a few weak posts on the Mississippi, might be
tolerable, now that their colonists were under the flag of
Spain ; but who and what were these sons of Anak, on the
other side of the Mississippi River, who carried a starry flag
of their own ?
It must be remembered also, that, from the moment that
the independence of the United States was secure, the new
settlers of the West had determined that they would have a
free navigation to the sea, Spain or no Spain. They had
made many none of them very secret.
different plans for this,
There were those who hoped that Louisiana might become
French again, and were willing to annex Kentucky to Louisi-
ana as a French province. There were agents down from
the Canadian Government, intimating that King George could
get command of a route through to the sea, and would not
the people of Kentucky and Tennessee like to join him ?
There were simple people who did not care what stood in the
way, but were ready to march in their might, and sweep out
of the valley anybody who hindered the Kentucky tobacco
from finding its way to the markets of Europe. None of
these plans regarded the King of Spain, or his hold of the
mouth of the Mississippi River, with- any reverence or favor.
Philip Nolan, however, had made his earlier expeditions
into Texas witli the full assent and approval of the Spanish
governors of Louisiana. When he came back, as has been
said,he gave the governor some handsome horses from the
wild drove which he had collected ; he received the gover-
nor's thanks, and had no difficulty in getting leave to go
again. And if Philip Nolan's name had been Sancho Panza
or lago del Toboso, and if his birthplace had been in Anda-
lusia or Leon,he might perhaps have gone back and forth,
with horses or without them, for fifty years ; and this little

history would then certainly never have been written.

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 77

But his name was not Sancho Panza ; it was Philip Nolan :

and his companions were not Mexican cattle-drivers, nor

even young hidalgos hanging about town in Orleans. There
were a few young Kentuckians like Harrod and himself;
there were Americans from a dozen different States ; and
there were but six Spaniards in his whole party.
He seems to have regarded it as a matter of indifference
where this party made its rendezvous. As he had the per-
mission of the Spanish governor to trade, it certainly should
have made no difference. But, in fact, his men made their
rendezvous and were recruited at Natchez, within the United
States territory, —a town of which the Spaniards had but
lately given up the possession to the American authorities,
and that only after much angry talk, and in very bad blood.
That a party of twenty-one young adventurers, under the
lead of an American as popular and distinguished as Philip
Nolan, should cross west into Mexico from Natchez, this —
was, it may be supposed, what excited the jealousy of the
military officers in command in Northern Mexico. The local
jealousy between them and the officials of their own king in
Orleans came in also to help the prejudice with which the
young American was regarded.
Nolan rode away with one of the men in buckskin who
had joined with Harrod, throwing a kiss to Inez with that
mixture of mock gallantry and real feeling which might have
been traced in all their intercourse with each other. " Au
revotr," cried she to him ; and he answered, " Au revoir,"
and was gone.
" We shall miss him sadly," said Eunice, after a moment's
silence ; " and I cannot bear to have him speak with anxiety
of his expedition. He has staked too much in it to be dis-
appointed."
The travellers followed on their whole route what was even
then known as the Old San Antonio Road, —
a road which
followed the trail made by the first adventurers as early as
1715. It was not and is not, by any means, as straight as
78 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

the track of a bee or a carrier-pigeon ; and it was after they

had had the experience of four nights under canvas that they
approached the Spanish post of Nacogdoches.
The conversation had again fallen on the probable danger
or safety of Nolan's party.
William Harrod said what was quite true, that Nolan —
would never be anxious for a moment about his own risks ;
but he was too loyal to these young men who had enlisted
with him, to lead them into danger of which he had not
given warning.
" For himself he has no fear," said Inez.
" Nor ever had," was Harrod's reply. " Why, Miss Inez,
I was with him once when a party of Apaches ought to have
frightened us out of our wits, if we had had any. I dare
not you how many there were, but the boys said there
tell

were five hundred ; and, if they had said five thousand, I

would not have contradicted them ; and we poor white-skins,
we were but fourteen all told. And there was Master Nolan
as cool as a winter morning. He was here, he was there. I
can see him now, asking one of our faint-hearted fellows for
a plug of tobacco, just that he might say something pleasant
to the poor frightened dog, and cheer him up. He was in
his element till it was all over."
" And how was it over ? " said Inez. " Did you have to
fight them ?
" Yes, and no. We did not get off without firing a good
many shots before that day was over; and if, whenever we
come dance with each other. Miss Inez, you ever find that
to
my bridle arm here is the least bit stiff, why, it is because of
a flint-headed arrow one of those rascals put through it that
day. But Master Phil outgeneralled them in the end."
"How?"
" Oh it was a simple
! enough piece of border strategy.
He brought us down to a shallow place in the river, not
commanded, you know, by any bluffs or high land; and
here, with great difficulty, we crossed, and got our wild
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 79

horses across, and all our packs, and went into camp, with
pickets out, and so on. And then at midnight he waked
every man of us from sleep, took us all
back under a sky as
dark as Egypt, marched us full five miles back on the trail
where they had been hunting us ; and, while my red brethren
were watching and waiting to cut our throats at daybreak, —
having crossed the river to lie in wait for us as soon as we
started, —
why, we were ' over the hills and far away.'
" I don't think the captain likes the Apaches," he said
grimly, as he finished his little story.
" But he can be very kind with the Indians. How pleas-
ant it was to see him talking with those Lipans, did you —
call them ?
" Oh, yes
and they know him and they fear him, and so
!

far as it is in Far and wide you

savage nature they love him.
will hear them tell these stories of the Captain of the Long-
knives —
that is what they call him for they have seen him
;

twenty times oftener than they have seen any other officer,
Spanish, French, or American. Twenty times ? They have
seen him a hundred times as often."
" For he has done good service to the Spanish crown,"
said Eunice, joining again in the conversation. "Though
these Spanish gentlemen choose to be suspicious, the captain
has been their loyal friend. The Baron Carondelet trusted
him implicitly, and Gov. Gayoso either feared him or loved
him. This is certain, — that the captain has done for them
all that he ever said he would do, and much more."
" You say ' Spanish and American,' " said Inez, laughing.
" And, now that he is the confidential agent of Gen. Bona-
parte, you must say French as well." ' '

" You remind me," said William Harrod, " to ask what I
am to say if pur Spanish friends at the fort yonder should
wish to parlez-vous a little. The captain would give them as
good as they sent, or better. But poor I when I have said —
*Bon jour Comment vous portez-vous ? and Je n'entends
!
'
'
'
'

pas,' —I have come to the end of my vocabulary. What in

the world shall I do ?
8o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"You must have a toothache," said Inez, laughing as

usual. '

" Oh, no !
" said Eunice. " The confidential agent is a
diplomatist and this for a diplomatist is a very large stock
;

in trade. Let me try.

"I will be Capt. Alfonso Almonte, Acting Major Com-
mandant of His Most Catholic Majesty's Presidio and Fort
of Our Lady of the Bleeding Heart on the Green River of
the West. One of my pickets brings in, in honorable cap-
tivity, the Senora Eunice Perry of Orleans, with the Seiiorita
Inez Perry of the same city, and a mixed company of black,

white, and gray, including three men in buckskin, and M.

Philippe, the confidential officer of First Consul Bonaparte,
major-general commanding.
" Well, all the others prove to be just what they should be,
— amiable, charming travellers, and only too loyal in their
enthusiasm for His Most Catholic Majesty King Charles the
Fourth. After I have sent them all to feast from silver and
gold then I turn to you, M. Philippe, and I say,
;
—
" When did you leave Paris, monsieur ? "
'
'

Harrod entered into the joke, and replied bravely, —

" I say, ' Bon jour ' " !

" Do you ? Well, then, I say, '

Good-day. I hope I see
you very well ; and may heaven preserve your life for many
!
years
" What do you say now ? "
" If you would say that in nice homespun English," said
Harrod, " I would say, ' The same to you. Long life and
many years to you. Suppose we have something to drink.' "
" No you J
must not say that to a major commandant it :

is not etiquette. Besides, he does not speak in English he :

speaks in French. What do you say ? "

" I think the best thing I could say would be, '
Je n'entends
pas.' See. I would put up my hand, so, as if I did not
quite catch his Excellency's meaning ; and then, very cau-
tiously, and a little as if I would deprecate his anger, I
would "
say, '
Je n'entends pas.'
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." . gi

"But is mere cowardice.

this You only postpone the
irrevocable moment. I should speak a great deal louder.
I should scream and say, Bon jour Dieu te benisse Quel
'
! !

heureux hasard vous a conduit dans ce pays ? I should '

say this with the last scream of my lungs. And you ? "
" Why, I think I would then say, Comment vous portez- '

vous, monsieur ? ' Perhaps it would be better to say that at

the beginning."
" Well, we shall soon find out," said Eunice ;
" for here
is the picket, and there is the challenge."
Sure enough : as they approached the adobe buildings of
the fort, a trooper rode out, sufficiently well equipped to
show that he was in the royal service, and asked, " Who goes
there ?

Ransom was ready for him, and had learned this time that
civilitywas the best policy. The corporal of the Spanish
escort rode forward, and exchanged a word or two with the
sentry of the garrison, who threw up his lance in salute, and
they all filed by. A Mexican woman at work making cakes
looked up, and smiled a pretty welcome. She was "grinding
in a mill." That means that she had two stones, one some-
what concave, and the other, so to speak, a gigantic pestle,
which filled or fitted into the cavity. Into the cavity she
dipped in corn, which had been already hulled by the use of
lye and with the stone she ground it into an impalpable
;

paste. Had the ladies staid long enough to watch this new
form of household duties, they would have seen her form
with her hands and bake the tortilla, with which they were
destined to be better acquainted. As it was, they paused
but a moment, as the cort'ege filed by. But they, had seen
enough to know that they were indeed in a foreign country,
and that now they were to begin to see the customs and hear
the language of the subjects of their unknown king.
Orleans, after was a pure French city ; and till now
all,

none of this party, excepting Harrod, had any real experience

of Mexican life. Nacogdoches was not even a town, though
82 , PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

the rudiments of a civil settlement were beginning to appeal

around the garrison. The party were halted until their dif-
ferent passes could be but the news of the arrival
examined ;

of such a cortege had, of course, run like wild-fire through

the post. In a very few minutes Don Sebastian Rodriguez,
the commandant, had come forward in person, bareheaded,
to tender his respects to the ladies, and to beg them to leave
the saddle. He introduced Col. Trdviiio, the officer of the
day, who said his wife begged them to honor her by accept-
ing her poor hospitality, and trusted that they would feel at
home in her quarters.
The uniform of the " officer of the day " was quite different
from the uniform of any Spanish officers whom Inez had ever
seen before ; for Nacogdoches, like the rest of Mexico, was
under the rule of the Council for the Indies, while Orleans
was governed directly by the Crown. This gentleman had
such a coat and waistcoat as the ladies had seen in pictures
of a generation before. He had on boots which resembled a
littlean Indian's leggings gartered up, so soft and pliable
was the leather. His coat and vest were blue and red, so
that the costume did not lack for brilliancy ; but the whole
aspect, to the man, was of efficiency. His costume certainly
met the old definition of a gentleman's dress, for there was
no question but he could " mount and ride for his life."
He sent a negro back to call his wife, and stepped forward
eagerly to lift Inez from her saddle, while Don Sebastian
rendered the same service to Eunice.
The lady sent for came forward shyly, but with great court-
esy, to meet the ladies, and was evidently immensely relieved
when Eunice with cordiality addressed her in Spanish. For
the word had been through the station, that a party of Ameri-
cans had arrived ; and there was some terror, mixed with
much one and another of the natives met the
curiosity, as
strangers. When
Eunice spoke to the Donna Maria Trdvino
in Spanish rather better than her own, the shadow of this
terror passed from her face, and, indeed, Col. Tr^vino's face
took on a different expression.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 83

In far less time than people who call in carriages and keep
lists of visitors can conceive, the three women were perfectly
at home with one another. In less than five minutes ap-
peared a little collation, consisting of chocolate and wine and
fruit, and, as the Senora Tr^vino with some pride pointed out,
a cup of tea. Neither Eunice nor Inez implied, by look or
tone, that this luxury was not an extreme rarity to them. To
have said that tea had been served by Ransom morning and
night at every resting-place, and at every bivouac, since they
left Orleans, would have done no good, and certainly would

not have been kind.

Meanwhile, in the outer room, which served the purpose of
an office for Col. Trdvino, this functionary and Harrod were
passing through an examination none the less severe that it
was couched with all the forms of courtesy. But with the
colonel, as with his lady, the Castilian language worked a
spell to which even the wax and red tape of the Governor
Casa Calvo were not equal. Nor was any curiosity expressed
because Mons. Philippe did not speak in French. And
when, after this interview, the colonel and Harrod joined the
ladies, as they did. Ransom having respectfully withdrawn
under the pretext of se^ng personally to the horses of the
party, Inez was greatly amused to see the diplomatic agent,
Mons. Philippe, and the colonel commanding, Don Francesco
Trdvino, talking Spanish together with the ease and regard
of old companions in arms.
Harrod said afterward that a common danger made even
rabbits and wolves to be friends. " And my friend the
colonel was so much afraid of this redoubtable filibuster
'
Nolano,' with his hundreds of giant ' Kentuckians,' that
when he found a meek and humble Frenchman like me, with
never a smack of English on my tongue, he was eager to kiss
and be friends."
The conversation, indeed, had not been very unlike that
which they had but just now rehearsed in jest. Ransom,
with perfect civility this time, had explained that these were
84 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Spanish ladies with their servants, travelling to San Antonio,

on a visit to their relations. The name of Barelo, his brother
officer, was enough to command the respect of Col. Tr^vino,

who was only too voluble in expressing the hope that his
pickets and sentries had been civil.
" In truth," he said, " we have been cautious, perhaps too

cautious. But no, a servant of the king is never too cautious

a soldier is never too cautious. But we have received now
one, two, three alarms, that the Americans are to attack us.
We do not know if there is peace, we do not know if there is
war ; but we do not love republics, we soldiers of the king.
And if my men had taken you for the party of Nolano, -^
well, well — it is well— that there were ladies was itself your
protection. The filibusters do not bring with them ladies." ^
Harrod was troubled to find that Nolan's reputation on the
frontier was so bad, and felt at once that his chief had not
rated at the full the perils of his position, when he ascribed
them merely to a difference between Orleans Spaniards and
Spaniards of Texas. Of course the young man let no sign
escape him which should show that he was interested in Nolan
or his filibusters. He was only hoping that Blackburn and
the other men outside might be as grudent. In a moment
more the colonel said, with some embarrassment, —
" I beg your pardon that I addressed you in the Castilian.
I see from Capt. Morales's pass that you are a French gentle-
man. We forget that our friends in Orleans yonder do not
all use our language."
Harrod laughed good-naturedly, and, speaking in the Cas-
tilian as before, said, —
" It is indeed a pleasure to me to speak in the Spanish
when I am permitted. As the language is more convenient
to the ladies, let us retain it, if you please."
1 This word "filibusters," originally the English word "freebooters," and as
such familiarly used on the coast of Mexico and the Spanish main, had degenerated
on Spanish tongues into the word " filibustier." It was familiarly used for an
invader who came for plunder, whether he crossed the frontier by land or by sea.
It has passed back into our language without regaining its original spelling and
pronunciation.
 OR, "SHOW YOVR PASSPORTS." 85

The colonel had been about to say that he would call a

lieutenant upon his staff, who spoke the French more freely
than he did ; but the readiness of the French gentleman saved
him from this necessity ; and, with relief only next to that
which he had shown when he found he was not talking to the
dreaded Nolan, he entered into free conversation in his own
tongue. In this- language Harrod had for many years been
quite at home.
The colonel finished his examination of the elaborate pass
furnished by Casa Calvo, intimated that he would prepare a
more formal document than that given in the saddle by Capt.
Morales, and then, having made himself sure tliat the little
collation was prepared, proposed that they should join the
ladies.
The ladies felt, as Harrod had done, that a single word
even of English might prejudice the cordiality of their recep-
tion. Even old Ransom had made this out, by that divine
which was an essential part of his make-up ;
instinct or tact
and when he came for orders, so called, from the ladies, even
if he whispered to them and they to him, it was always in the

Spanish language. Indeed, Inez said afterward, that, when

he chose to swear at the muleteers, it was in oaths of the
purest Castilian.
As he left the room for the first time, Harrod called him
back, and whispered to him also. This was to bid him tell

Blackburn, and the others of his immediate command, that,

as they loved Capt. Nolan, they were not to speak in English,
either to Harrod or to in Na-
one another, while they were
cogdoches. They were to remember that they were
French all

hunters, and, if they did not speak French, they must speak
Choctaw, —
an alternative which all three accepted.
" Let me present to you, my dear wife, Mons. Philippe, the
gentleman who accompanies these ladies, —
a French gentle-
man, my dear."
Harrod bowed with all the elegance of Paris and Kentucky
united.
86 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" I have been explaining, ladies, to your friends, the causes

of these preparations of war, — the oversight of passports,
and the challenge of travellers, so unusual, and so foreign to

hospitality in the time of peace ; if, indeed, this be peace.

May God bless us ! Only he knows, and the blessed Virgin."
" Is it, then, a time of war ? " asked Eunice, —
" and with

whom ?

"The good God knows, senora if only I were equally :

fortunate Whether our gracious master, the good King

!

Charles IV., is not at this moment in war with this great

Gen. Bonaparte," —
and he bowed, with a droll and sad effort
at civility, toward " Mons. Philippe," as if that gentleman
were himself the young Corsican adventurer, " or whether —
these wild republicans of the American States have not made
war upon us, the good God —
may he bless us all and the !
—
holy Mother know but I do not." ;

" Surely I can relieve your anxiety, colonel," said Eunice,

in her most confiding manner. " We are not yet a fortnight

from Orleans, and we had then news only nine weeks from
Europe. So far from war, the First Consul was cementing
peace with our august king. I shall have pleasure in show-
ing you a French gazette which makes us certain of that
happy intelligence. Then, from our neighbors of the Ameri-
can States there were no news but such as were most peace-
ful."
" But your ladyship does not understand," said Col. Tr6-
hoping that she might not see how much he was relieved
viiio,

by the intelligence, —
" your ladyship does not, can not, un-
derstand the anxieties of a command like ours. It is not the
published war, it is not the campaigns which can be told in
gazettes, and proclaimed by heralds, which we soldiers drea4."
Again with an approving glance at Mons. Philippe, as if he
were Bonaparte in person. " It is the secret plots, the war in
disguise. This Nolano will not send word in advance that
he is coming."
Inez started, in spite of herself, as she heard the name
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 87

and then she could have punished herself by whatever torture

for her lack of self-control. She need not have been dis-
tressed. The Col. Tr^vino did not suspect a girl of seven-
teen of caring any more for what he said, than the cat who
was purring in the Donna Trdvino's arms.
" This Nolano will not send word in advance that he is
coming. He will swoop down on us with his giants, as
a troop of buffalo swoops down upon a drinking-pond in
yonder prairie. And he must return, yes, may the Holy —
Lady grant it God be blessed
! —
he must return as a flock
!

of antelopes return when they have caught a glimpse of the

hunters."
The colonel was well pleased with this bit of rhetoric.
Eunice, meanwhile, had not changed glance nor color.
" Who is this Nolano of whom you speak ? Is he an officer
of Gen. Bonaparte ?

" Grace of God No, madame ! He

is one of these
!

Americans of the north, who propose march from theirto

cold, wintry recesses to capture the city of Mexico to take ;

the silver-mines of our king, and divide them for their spoil.
Our advices, madam, are not so distinct as I could wish ; but
we know enough to be sure that this man has recruited an
army in the east, and, if the way opens, will attack us."
" Impossible," said Eunice bravely, " that he should have
recruited an army, and the Marquis of Casa Calvo know
nothing of it ! Impossible that the marquis should permit
me and this lady to travel in a country so soon to be the
"
scene of war !

" A
thousand pardons, senora," persisted the other. " We
speak under the rose here. Let it be confessed that the
Marquis of Casa Calvo is not so young as he was forty years
ago, nor so sharp-sighted. Our sovereign places him, per-
haps, at Orleans; let us say —
yes, may the Holy Mother
preserve us ! —
because that is not the place of action and •

of arms. For us, —

why, we have seen Philippo Nolano,
and that within two years."
88 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Poor Inez She did not dare to glance at Harrod ; but

!

she longed to strike an attitude rivalling the colonel's, and to

say,—
" And we have seen Philippo Nolano, and that within two
days."
But the position, though it had its ludicrous side, was of
course sufficiently critical to keep them all seriously watch-
ful of word and glance alike.
" Indeed " said Eunice seriously, "
!
how was this ? and
what manner of man is he ? What do you say his name
is?"
" His name is Nolano, my lady ; his baptismal name, if

these heretics have any baptism, is Philippo may the Saint

:

Philippo pardon me, and preserve us ! Do we know him ?

Why, he made his home Nacogdoches,
in this very presidio of
and that not two years ago. My lady, he has sat in that
chair, he has drunk from this cup. To think that such
treason should lurk in these walls, and study out in advance
!
our defences
At this point, the little lady of the
group took courage.
" My
dear husband," said the Senora Trdvirio, " let us
admit that we were very glad to see him. Indeed, ladies, —
he a most agreeable person, though he be an American of
is

the north, and a filibuster. He was here for some time j and
he knew the language of the "Americans so well, that in all
business he served my husband and the other officers here as
an interpreter. There were some Americans arrested for
illicit —
trade, you know," and she dropped her
silver, voice,
— " two men with a hard name but learned so often did ; I it,

I hear it. There was a process about these men Eastridge :

was their name. Oh it lasted for months ; and often was

!

your namesake Don Philippo in the chair you sat in, Mons.
Philippo ; he was discussing their business with my hus-
band " —
" And playing chess with my wife," said the colonel, inter-
rupting her. " Ah, he was a very cunning soldier, was your
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 89

Don There is no secret of our defences but

! is known to
him ; and now he comes with an army."
" Surely," said Eunice as bravely as before, " you do not
speak of the Cape. Nolan who was so near a friend of the
Baron Carondelet ? Why, he was presented to me by the
Baron himself at a ball."
Col. Trevino confessed that Nolan brought him letters at
one time from the Baron.
"And my brother has dined with him at Gen. Gayoso's
[Link] ! it is impossible that this person can lead an
American army."
" Ladies," said the colonel, clasping his hands, " a soldier
must believe nothing, and he must believe every thing also.

May all the saints preserve us " !

And Eunice felt that she had pressed the defence of her
friend as far as was safe, or to his advantage.
go PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER VIII.

THE DRESSED DAY,

"A visit should be of three days length.

I. The Rest Day. j.. The Dressed Day.
3. The Pressed Day." —
Miss Ferrier.

The respect due to a reception so courteous as that with

which the Colonels Tr^vino and Rodriguez welcomed the
party, compelled a stay in Nacogdoches over one full day.
In truth, Philip Nolan had advised a stay so long, and had
told the ladies that he had a thousand ways of informing
himself at what moment they should leave the fort to pro-
ceed westward. The morning of the day after the arrival of
the ladies was spent in a prolonged breakfast, in which the
senora did her best to show her guests that the resources of
a military post were not contemptible. And indeed she
succeeded. When she had made it certain that they were
not too much fatigued by their five days' ride from the river,
she took order to assemble at supper all the officers of the
command and their wives \ and the preparations for this little
fete filled the colonel's quarters with noisy tustle, quite
unusual, through the morning.
In the midst of this domestic turmoil, —
not so different,
after all, from what Eunice and Inez had seen on the planta-

tion, when Silas Perry had brought up an unexpected com-

pany of guests, —a new turmoil broke out in the square, and
calledmost of the occupants of the house out upon the
arcade which fronted it. The Lady Trdvino was not too
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 91

dignified to join the groups of curious inquirers j and she did

not return at once to her guests.
Ransom did come
under the pretence of asking if they
in,

needed any was news to tell.-

thing, but really because there
He satisfied himself that in this dark inner room there were
no eavesdroppers, and that those heavy stone walls had no
ears ; and then he indulged himself, though in a low tone, in
the forbidden luxury of the vernacular.
" Pray what is it, Ransom ? " asked Inez, speaking always
in Spanish.
" All nonsense," said the old man, all nonsense told —" :

'em so myself, but they would not hear to me. Spanishers

and niggers all on 'em, nothin' but Greasers: don't know
nothin', told 'em so —
all nonsense."

Then after a pause :

—
" White gal 'z old as you be, Een " this was his short- :

hand way of saying " Miss Inez," when he was off guard.
"White gal dressed jest like them Injen women ye see
down on the levy. They catched her up here among the
Injens, and brought her away. She can't speak nothin' but
Injen, and they don't know what she says. They brought
her down from up there among the Injens where they catched
her. She's dressed jest like them Injen women ye see on
the levy ; but she's a white gal —
old as you be, Een."
Inez knew by long experience that when one of Ransom's
speeches had thus balanced itself by repetition backward to
the beginning, — as a musical air returns to the keynote, —
she might put in a question without disturbing him.
" Who found her, Ransom ? Who brought her in ?
" Squad o' them soldiers ; call 'em soldiers, .ain't soldiers,
none on 'em ain't one on 'em can stand the Ghoctaw Injens
:

two minutes. Was ten on 'em goin' along, and had a priest
with 'em, — 'n they met a lot o' Injens half -starved, they
said. Men was clean lost, — hadn't got no arrows, and
couldn't git no game. Didn't b'long here : got down here'n
got lost ; didn't know nothin'. Injens had this white gal, —
92 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

white as you be, Een, —

'n the priest said he wouldn't gin
'em nothin' e£ they wouldn't let him have the white gal.
They didn't want to, but he made 'em, he did ; said they
should not have nothin' ef they wouldn't let him have the
white gal. White as you be she is. Miss Eunice."
Inez was all excited by this time, and begged her aunt to
join the party in the arcade, — which they did.
True enough, just under the gallery, was this tall wild girl,
of singularly clear brunette complexion, but of features
utterly distinct from those of an Indian squaw. Eunice and
Inez, indeed, both felt that the girlwas not of Spanish, but
of Anglo-Saxon or Scotch-Irish blood, though, in the unpop-
ularity of their own lineage in Nacogdoches, neither of them
thought it best to say so. Three or four of the Mexican
women of the post were around the girl, some of them
examining her savage ornaments, some of them plying her
with tortillas and fruit, and even milk, under the impression
that she must be hungry. The girl herself looked round,
not without curiosity, and in a dozen pretty ways showed
that she was not of the same phlegmatic habit as her recent
possessors.
In a few moments the Senora Trdvino returned, having
given some orders for the poor girl's comfort, the results of
which immediately appeared.
But when she called the girl to her most kindly, and when
she came under the arcade as she was beckoned, the ladies
could make no progress in communicating with her. She
seemed to have no knowledge of Spanish, nor yet of French.
If she had been taken prisoner from either a Spanish or
French settlement, it was when she was so young that she
had forgotten their language.
Inez tried her with " madre " and " padre ; " the Senora
Trevino pointed reverently to a crucifix, and a Madonna with
folded hands. But the girl showed no other curiosity than
for the other articles of taste or luxury — if such simple
adornments can be called such.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 93

" Still, Eunice," cried Inez, " I am sure she understood

'
mamma.' Say ma to her alone."
'
'

Meanwhile Mme. Tr^vino called one and another woman

and servant who had some smattering of Indian dialects ;
but the girl would smile good-naturedly, and could make
nothing of what they said. But this suggested to Eunice
that she might beckon to Blackburn the hunter, who was
lounging in the group in front ; and in a whisper she bade
him address the girl in the Choctaw dialect.
This language was wholly distinct from any of the dialects
of the west of the Mississippi —
as these, indeed, changed
completely, even between tribes whose hunting-grounds were
almost the same.
Blackburn did as he was bidden, but without the least suc-
cess; but in a moment he fell back on the gift of silence,
and began in the wonderful pantomime, which the ladies had
already seen so successful between Nolan and the Lipan
chief.
The girl smiled most intelligently, nodded assent, and in
the most vivid, rapid, and active gesture, entered on a long
narration, if it may be called so, of her life with the Indians.

Blackburn sometimes had to bid her be more slow, and re-

peat herself. But it was clear enough that they were both
on what he would have called the right trail, and he was
coming at a full history of her adventures.
But a new diiSculty arose when Blackburn was to interpret
what he had learned. He made a clumsy effort in a few
words of bread-and-butter Spanish, such as all Western men
picked up in the groceries and taverns at Natchez. But this
language was very incompetent for what he had to tell. Still
the good fellow knew that he must not speak English in the
presence of these Greasers ; and he bravely struggled on in a
Spanish which was as unintelligible as his Choctaw.
In the midst of this confusion Ransom came to the front,
and addressed him boldly :
—
" Est-ce-que vous ne parlez Frangais bien, mon camarade ?
94 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Then speak hog 'em it's Dutch. Say

English, but I'll tell

parhz-vous at the beginning, and oui monsieur at the end."

Then he turned to the Senora Tr^vino, and bowed with a
smile, and told her that the man was a poor ignorant dog
from Flanders, who had been in the woods as a hunter ever
since he came abroad as a boy ; that he spoke very little
French, and that very badly ; but that he. Ransom, had seen
him so much that he could understand him.
, Then he turned — to Blackburn :

men ami,
" N'oubliez pas, — don't forget a word I tell you.

Pepper and don't

it us hanged for
well, git nothin'. Ensuite
— tout ensemble — monsieur." oui,
" The
" Oui, monsieur, vraiment," said Blackburn bravely.
gal don'tremember when she did not live with the redskins,
sacrement parbleu mon Dieu
! But she does not remem-
! !

ber her own mother, who died ten years ago. Parlez-vous
Frangais, Saint Denis ! Since then she has lived as they all

live. Comment, monsieur.

She says she wants to go to the
East, that her mother bade her go there. Morbleu sacre- I

ment oui, monsieur. She says the redskins wasn't kind to

!

her, and wasn't hard on her, but didn't give her enough to
eat, and made her walk when her feet was sore. Mfere de
Dieu, sacrement Saint Denis bon jour "
! — !

It was clear enough that poor Blackburn's French had

been mostly picked up among the voyagers on the river, and,
alas from their profane, rather than their ethical or assthetic
!

moments. It may be doubted whether to the Seiiora Tre-

vino the poor smattering would not have betrayed rather
than helped the poor fellow, but that her sympathies were so
wholly engrossed by the condition of the captive that she
cared little by what means her story was interpreted.
In a moment more, Ransom had explained it in voluble
Spanish.
"Ask him for her name. Ransom; ask if she knew her
mother's name ask him how old she is," cried Inez eagerly.
;

" She says the Indians call her the White Hawk, but that
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 95

her mother called her Mary, and bade her never forget," said
the old man, really wiping his eyes. " She says she is sixteen
summers old."
Inez seized the girl's hand, and said "Marie," of which
she made nothing ; but when the girl said squarely " Mary,"
"Mary," and then said "Ma" — "Ma" — "Ma," the poor
captive's face flushed for the first time and she seized both
;

Inez's hands, repeated all these syllables after her, and broke
into a flood of tears.
" Ma-ry," said Eunice slowly to the Senora Trdvino :
" it is

the way they pronounce Marie in the eastern provinces."

In a moment more appeared the portly and cheerful Father
Andrds, who had by good fortune accompanied the foraging
party which had brought in this waif from the forest. To his
presence with the soldiers, indeed, it is probable that she
owed her redemption.
Ransom's story was substantially correct. This was a
little band of Apaches, who had by an accident been cut off

from the principal company of their tribe, and by a series of

misfortunes had lost their horses and most of their weapons.
They were loath to throw themselves on Spanish hospitality,
and well they might be. Still, when the troopers had struck
their trail and overtaken them, the savages were in great
destitution and well-nigh starving. They were out of their
own region, were trying to return to it on foot, and were
living as they might on such rabbits as they could snare, and
such wild fruits as they could find. Father Andrds, with a
broader humanity, had agreed to give a broken-down mule
and a quarter of venison as a ransom for the girl ; and both
parties had been well satisfied with the exchange.
For the girl herself, — she was tall, graceful in movement,
eminently handsome, with features of perfect regularity, eyes
large and black, and with her head burdened with the
fairly

up with some
luxuriant masses of hair, which were gathered
savage ornament, but insisted upon curling in a most un-
Indian-like way. There was a singular unconsciousness in
96 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

her demeanor, like that of an animal. Inez said she never

knew that you were looking at her. Once and again, in this
little iirst interview, she started to her feet, and stood erect
and animated, with an eagerness which the Spanish women
around her, or their Indian servants, never showed, and could
not understand. Perhaps she never seemed so attractive as
in these animated pantomimes in which she answered their
questions, or explained the detail of her past history.
Soon after the arrival of Father Andres, Harrod returned
from riding with the officers. He explained to Donna Isa-
bella that he had acquired "some knowledge of the Indian
pantomime in his hunting expeditions. By striking out one
superfluous interpreter from the chain, he gave simplicity and
animation to the stranger's narrative.
She remembered perfectly well many things that her
mother had told her, though she showed only the slightest
knowledge of her mother's language. But, on this point,
Harrod and the ladies from Orleans were determined to try
her more fully when they were alone. The village, whatever
it was, of her birthplace, had been fortified against savages ;

but a powerful tribe had attacked it, and, after long fighting,
the whites had surrendered. But what was surrender to
such a horde So soon as they had laid down their weapons,
?

the Indians had slaughtered every man, and every boy large
enough to carry arms. Next they had killed for convenience'
sake every child not big enough to travel with them in their
rapid retreat. The women they had kept, and if any woman
chose to keep her baby the whim was indulged. Such a
baby was this " Ma-ry," —
the White Hawk just now rescued.
Her mother had clung to her in every trial. Long, long
before the White Hawk could remember any thing, she and
her mother had been sold to some other tribe, which took
them far from other captives of their own race. With this
tribe —who were Apaches, of Western Texas she had —
lived ever since she could remember.
She had always heard
of whites. She had always known she was one of them.
But she had never seen a white man till yesterday.
 OR, "SHOW YOtiR PASSPORTS." 97

" And, now you are with us, you will stay with us," said
Donna Isabella eagerly.
The girl did not so much as notice her appeal ; for she
happened to be looking on one of the thousand marvels
around her, so that she did not catch the eagerness of the
Spanish lady's eye, and she understood not a syllable of her
language. Harrod touched her gently, and repeated the
appeal to her in a pantomime which the others could partly
follow.
Then the White —
Hawk smiled, oh so prettily, and
! —
replied in a pantomime which they could not follow ; but she
placed her hand in Donna Isabella's, in Eunice's, and in
Inez's, in rapid succession, just pausing long enough before
each to give the assurance of loyalty.
" She says that she promised her mother every night,
before she slept, that she would go to her own people, the —
whites. Whenever she can go sun to find them,
to the rising
she must go. But she says she is sure you three will be true
to her, and that she will be true to you. She says she must
find her mother's brothers and sisters, and she says you must
be her guides."
Inez's eyes were brimming with tears.
" Can we find them, Mons. Philippe ? How can we find
them ? Where was this massacre, and when ?
The Spanish officers shrugged their shoulders at this, and
said that, alas ! was only too much of such cruelty all
there
along the frontier. The
story, Harrod said, was like that of
the massacre at Fort Loudon, but that was too long ago.
The truth was, that for seventy years, from the time when
the Indians of Natchez sacrificed the French garrison there,
down to that moment, such carnage had been everywhere.
Harrod told the ladies afterward that in only seven years,
about the time of which the White Hawk spoke, fifteen
hundred of the people of Kentucky had been killed or taken
prisoners, and as many more on the Ohio River above Ken-
tucky. Which village of a hundred, therefore, was White
98 PHILIP NOLAk'S FRIENDS;

Hawk's village, of which mother of a thousand was hers, it

would be hard to tell.
But Eunice thoiJ^ht that in that eye and face she saw the
distinct sign of that Scotch-Irish race which carries with it,
wherever it emigrates, such matchless beauty of color,

whether for women or for men. But of this to their Spanish

friends she said nothing.
So unusual a ripple in the stagnant life of the garrison
threw back the memory of the arrival of the ladies from
Orleans quite in the distance. Still, when the evening came,
and the Donna Isabella's guests gathered, it proved that the
several ladies of the little "society" had not been unmindful
of the duties they owed Most of them were
to fashion.
Mexico and Madrid which were
attired in the latest styles of
known to them. Others relied boldly on the advices they
had received from their correspondents, and wore what they
supposed the latest fashion of Europe outside of Spain. All
came, eager with curiosity to see what were the latest dates
from Orleans and from Paris. With some difficulty, and in
the face of many protests from Ransom, Eunice and Inez
were able to indulge them. It was necessary to open some
packs which had been put up for San Antonio, and San
Antonio only.
Ransom said this was impossible. Eunice said it must be
done. Ransom said he would not do it. Eunice said that
then she should have to do it herself. Ransom then knew
that he had played his last card, went and opened the packs
in question, brought them to the ladies, and declared that it
was the easiest thing in life to do so, and that, in fact, they
ought to be opened, because they needed the air. For such
was Ransom's way when he was met face to face.
We ought to tell our fair readers how these two ladies
were dressed on that October evening. Not so different in
the effect at a distance from the costumes of to-day ; but the
waists of their frocks were very close under their arms, as if
they were the babes of 1876 at the baptismal font. For the
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 99

the skirts were scant, as Inez's diary tells me, and the
rest,
trimming was their glory.
Would you like to see Mme. Fantine's account of the dress
which Inez wore that evening ? It is, " Coiffure k I'hirondelle.
Robe k sole bleue k demi traine ; la jupe garnie des pail-
lettes." Now, paillettes were little round steel spangles.
There! Is not that the loyal and frank way for the
novelist of the nineteenth century when he has his heroine's
costume to describe ?
But Mme. Fantine could not have described the White
Hawk's dress,-— "Ma-ry's ; " and, after all, she was the belle
of the evening. The Donna Isabella and Inez, principally
Inez, had devoted themselves to her toilet through the
afternoon. To dress her as a Christian woman had been
Donna Isabella's first idea ; but, to say truth. Donna Isabel-
la's idea of Christianity was not unlike that of the mission-
aries in Africa, whose first great triumph was the persuading
the natives to bury their dead in coffins. If the Donna
Isabella could have seen the White Hawk in a mantilla and
long silk wrapper, she would have been as well satisfied as
Father Andres if he could place baptismal waters on her
forehead. To such costume White Hawk herself objected.
Could she have spoken Hebrew, she would have said, with
Jesse's son, " I have not proved them." And here our pretty
Inez proved her loyal friend. How charming it was to see
these lovely girls together No White Hawk had come to
! :

them in savage costume, and so it was best that she should

come, to the party. Only these feathers must be crisp and
new ; and the presidio was quite competent to furnish crisp,
new crane's feathers. This doeskin tunic, yes, it did have—
a bad smell, even Inez had to confess that ; but the quarter-
master produced a lovely new doeskin, at the sight of which
those black eyes of White Hawk's flashed fire and what ;

with Inez's needle, and Eunice's, and the Mexican maid of

Donna Isabella, and White Hawk's own nimble fingers, every
pretty fringe, every feather, with every bead and every shell,
100 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

from the old wilderness-worn dress, were transferred in an

hour to the new robe. As for hair, as Inez said, there was
not a major's wife, nor a captain's, at the party, but envied
White Hawk her magnificent coiffure.
For slippers —
alias moccasins —
they were fain to go to
the storehouse of the presidio again, and select one of the
smallest pair they found there made ready for women's wear.
They gave these to White Hawk, who laughed merrily. Be-
fore the " party " began, they were embroidered with the
brightest colors, discovered only White Hawk knew where or
how.
Thus apparelled, White Hawk certainly drew all eyes.
Inez confessed that she paled her ineffectual fires. Her
ivory fan, fresh from Paris, did not win the homage, she said,
which White Hawk won by her crane's feathers.
" And what could you expect," said the enthusiastic girl,
"when she has those wonderful cheeks, those blazing eyes,
and that heavenly smile ? Eunice, if you do not take her to
"
Antonio with us, why, Eunice, I shall die !

The garrison, at its best, furnished twelve ladies — con-

fessed as ladies — when there was any such occasion for
festivity as this evening. Of gentlemen, as at all military
posts, there was no lack. The frontier garrison towns of
Mexico presented at that time a series of curious contrasts.
Gentlemen of the best training of Europe, who had perhaps
brought with them ladies of the highest culture, as Gov. —
Herrara had at this very time, —
were stationed for years, in
the discharge of the poor details of frontier duty, in the
midst of the simplest and most ignorant people in Christen-
dom. In the same garrison would be young Mexican gen-
tlemen in training for the same service, not deficient in the
external marks of a gentleman, but without any other culture
than training in the details of tactics. Between the wives
was a broader contrast, perhaps, than between the husbands.
Very few Mexican ladies of the Spanish blood, " Creoles,"
if we may take the expression of the day, were educated for
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." loi

any conversation with intelligent men, or expected to bear a

share in it. But such a lady as Mme. Herrara, with whom
'

the persevering reader of these pages will meet, or the

Seflora Maria Caberairi, or the Senora Marguerite Valois,
accustomed to the usages of Europe, lived as rational beings ;
that is, they received trisits, and discharged the duties of an

elegant hospitality. Such a protest against the Oriental

seclusion, which perhaps the Moors introduced into Spanish
life, whether in Old Spain or in New Spain, met with no

favor from the handsome, indolent, and passive ladies who

ttiade up the majority of garrison society. And the line was
jmarked with perfect distinctness, on this occasion, between
four on the one side and eight on the other, of the ladies
who attended at Donna Isabella's ball.
This contrast added greatly to the lively Inez's enjoyment
of the evening. She had no lack of good partners, only too
eager to take her out to the minuet. The lively girl showed
that she, at least, had no objection to talking to young offi-
cers, and that she had enough to say to them.
" Do not disgrace your duenna," said Eunice laughing, as
Inez left her on one of these campaigns of conquest. And
Inez said, —
" Dearest duenna, if I could only use a fan as well as you
do!"
Harrod said to Eunice that he should find his occupation
gone, now that there was a little army of Dons and hidalgos
only too eager to take charge of the ladies of his convoy.
Indeed, in brilliancy of costume, the gentlemen of the party
quite held their own
comparison with even the French and
in
Spanish The dragoons wore a short
toilets of the ladies.
blue coat, with red cape and cuffs, with small-clothes of blue
velvet always open at the knee. Every gentleman brought
with him a tall dress hat, such as the modern reader associ-
ates with banditti on the stage. It was etiquette to bring

this even into the ballroom, because the ribbon of gay

colors with which it was bound was supposed to be a lady's
102 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

gift and a mark of gallantry. Many of the men were tall

and handsome, and you would have said that dancing and
cards were the only business of their lives.
Although Inez had spent her whole life in what was called
a Spanish colony, in a town which thought much of itself,
while Nacogdoches was but a garrison post, she had never
seen, till now, any of the peculiar forms of Spanish society.
Orleans held its head very high in the social way, but it was
as a French city. The governors and their courts could
make no head against the proud Gallicism of the people
they found there and French travellers said with pride that
;

Spaniards were " Francised" but Frenchmen were not " Es-
^anoled" in Orleans.
The minuet was at that moment the property of the world.
The fandango and the bolero were dances Inez had never
seen before ; nor would she have shed tears if she had been
told she should never see them again. The White Hawk,
who joined even merrily in the gayeties of the evening,
seemed hurt and annoyed at the intimacies of the fandango,
and showed that she was glad when it was over. None of the
strangers, indeed, could take part in it j and they observed
that a part of the ladies among their hosts would not take
part in it. Naturally enough, the talk turned on national
dances, in a circle of such varied nationalities. The White
Hawk frankly and simply performed an Apache pas de seul
for the surprise and amusement of her hosts, so soon as she
found they would take pleasure from it. And then, after a
littleconference with Donna Maria and her husband, and a
word with Col. Rodriguez the commander of the garrison, one
of the band-men was sent out to bring in a party of dancers
from the vulgar crowd without, who would show a pure Mex-
ican dance to the visitors.
This was the dance of the Matachines, which dates back
even to the court of Montezuma. A boy, gayly dressed,
rushed in with his bride these were Montezuma and Ma-
:

linche. The girl's rattle took the place of the castanets of

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 103

the fandango. In an instant more the other dancers, armed

also with rattles, followed in two parallel rows, soon breaking
into four and a large man with a hideous mask,
; —the devil
of the scene, —whip in hand, ruled the pageant. Nobody
but Montezuma and Malinche escaped his blows.
At times the emperor and his bride sat in chairs which
were placed for their thrones, and received from the other
dancers the most humble protestations.
Friar Andrds said that the whole was tjrpical of astro-
nomical truths. Perhaps it was. I remember Margaret Fuller
once told me, who write these words, what the quadrille
called " pantalon " typified. If I only remembered That
!

is the figure where the gentleman leaves his partner for a

while in captivity on the other side.

Meanwhile all the men were not occupied in minuets, in
fandangos, in boleros, or in fanning ladies. Parties of offi-

cers, not inconsiderable, sat at cards in the card-rooms ; and,

ifone could judge from their cries now and then, the play
was exciting and high.
In such amusements the " dressed day " came to a close,
and it stole an hour even from the day of departure.
104 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS.

CHAPTER IX.

TALKING AND WALKING

" Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest I'll venture." — Milton.
It was decided in solemn assembly, the next morning, that
the White Hawk should join the party of travellers for San
Antonio. Donna Isabella had seen too much of garrison life
to wish to keep the girl longer than was necessary at a post
like Nacogdoches. Indeed, if she ever were to seek her
birthplace, it must be from such a point as San Antonio, and
not from a garrison town. Eunice and Inez gladly took the
care of her ; and Col. Tr^vino formally prepared a new
passport which should describe her and her condition also.
" I have added your name, Mons.* Philippe," said the
hospitable colonel. " I see you joined the party after the
marquis's pass was filled. Ah me the marquis is growing
!

a little drowsy, after all " and he laughed with that conceit
!

with which a rival bureau always detects errors in the admin-

istration of the establishment " over the way.''
And so, after every conceivable delay, innumerable adios,
and commendations to the Virgin, the little party started
again. To the last, Blackburn, Richards, Adams, and King
were taken for granted as part of the party. They asked no
questions ; and the colonel, with all his formalities, never
asked them where they joined or where they were to leave.
With no prospect of other detention before arriving at San
Antonio, they all pushed out into what was very nearly desert
country.
 on, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." i°S

The afternoon was well advanced, when they made the

halt — which with an would have been made
earlier start
earlier — a from the
for rest saddle, and to give the beasts a
chance for food. The ladies sat on their shawls a little away
from the caravan proper ; and Harrod, with some help from
Ransom, improvised a screen from the wind by stretching
his own blanket above some stakes driven into the ground.
The first care had been to send notes and messages to
Capt. Nolan, who was supposed to be not far away. These
were intrusted to Blackburn, and to old Caesar, whom Black-
burn had persuaded to join him for a few days. After their
departure, the encampment took on an air of tranquil repose.
"We are as happy as Arabs," said Inez.
" As happy as Ma-ry here would be in your father's salon
on the plantation," said Harrod. " Ask her if she sees any
thing piquant or strange in lunching alfresco here."
" Ask her," said Eunice, " what she makes of Ransom's
Boston crackers, and whether she would rather have a rabbit
& la mesquit."
" Ah, well " said Harrod, " the rarity of the thing is all
1

very well ; but, when Miss Inez here has lunched twenty days
more alfresco, she will be glad to find herself in her aunt's
inner chamber " —
" As Ma-ry will, after twenty days of the salon life, to
find herself on a mustang horse, riding after antelopes," said
Inez, this time sadly.
"Miss Inez, I do not believe a word of it."
" A word of what ? "
" Of what you are afraid of, —that this girl has become a
child of the forest, and is going to love mustangs and ante-
lopes and mesquit-bushes and grilled rabbits, more than she
will love books and guitars and the church and a Christian

home. Blood is a good deal thicker than water. Miss Inez

and blood will tell.-"
" Seventeen years go a good way, Mr. Harrod ; and she
must be as old as I am," said Inez, -as if she herself were
the person of most experience in this world.
io6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" But seventeen centuries go farther," said he ; "and I may

say eighteen, lacking two montlis, I believe. Oh, Miss Inez 1

trust a man whohas seen white skins, and black skins, and
red skins, and olive skins, and skins so dirty that they had
no color. Trust me who speak to you. If the sins of the
fathers go to the children for the third and fourth genera-
tion,"— there was no banter in his tone now ; but all this
was in serious earnest, —
" shall not the virtues of the moth-

ers, and their loves, and even their fancies and their tastes
.'

Shall not their faith and hope, shall not their prayer, have a
hold deeper than a little calico or flannel ? Does not your
commandment say, 'through all generations for those who
love Him ? and do you not suppose that means something ?
'

It was the first time Harrod had spoken with quite this
earnestness of feeling. To Eunice it was not unexpected,
however. She had seen, from his first salute at the encamp-
ment, that he was every inch a man. To Inez there was all
the satisfaction which comes to every girl of yesterday when
some person of insight sees that she is a woman to-day. The
change from boy to man takes years, and is marked by a
thousand slow graduations. The change from girl to woman
is well-nigh immediate. But the woman just born cannot
scream out, "The world is all changed to me. Why will
you talk to me as if I were playing with my doll ? " All the
same is she grateful to him or her who finds out this change ;
and so Inez was grateful to William Harrod now.
" You see," said Harrod, " I was born close to the frontier
and since I can remember I have been on it and of it. Dear
old Daniel Boone — have you ever 'hearn tell' of him. Miss
Perry ? — dear old Daniel
Boone, many is the time that he
has spent the weeks of a winter storm and clearing at my
father's and many is the tramp that I have taken with him
;

and with his sons. I fired his rifle before I was ten years
old. Yes ; and I have seen this thing always. Why when !

I was a little boy I have seen our dear Elder Brainerd take
these savage boys, and be good to them, and helpful, and let
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 107

them cheat him and lie to him ; and since then have seen I
them go oil like hawks when they smelt carrion. I have And
seen —
well, I have seen Daniel Boone, who had slept under
the sky as they sleep, had starved as they starve, had frozen
as they freeze ; and he would come to my dear mother's
table as perfect and finished a gentleman as there is in
Orleans or Paris. Dear Miss Perry, there is such a thing as
race, and blood does tell."
" And I hope it tells in something better than choice of
places to lunch in," said Inez.
" Yes, indeed," said the young fellow, who was on one of
his hobbies now. " You shall see that your pretty Ma-ry
will be a lady of the land, if you can once see her in her
land. As for these Greasers, I do not know that I rate them
as of much more help to her than so many Caddoes or
Apaches. Oh, dear how I hate them " and he laughed
!
!

heartily.
" Pray do not say so to Inez," said her aunt. " You do
not guess yet how hard I find it to make her loyal to her
sovereign."
" Most estimable of duennas," cried Inez, " pray do not
say that again for a week. Let me mildly represent to your
grace, that your unsuspected loyalty to the most gracious of
masters, and to the loveliest of queens, has led you to make
this protest daily, since her Majesty's sacred birthday —
blessed be her gracious life and her sweet memory ! — recalled
to your loveliness's recollection you duty to your honored
sovereign. There, you darling old tease, can I not do it as
well as you can? And do not the adjectives and compli-
ments roll out rather more graciously in the language of
Squam Bay than even Oh,
in the glorious Castilian itself
?

dear ! I wish I could set Ransom one of the

to translate
Bishop's prelections on royalty into genuine Yankee."
" Do it yourself," said Harrod, who was rapidly gaining

all Nolan's enthusiasm for the old man.

And Inez attempted a rapid imitation.

io8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"There," said she, "it is the day of our Lady of the

Sacred Torch ; and, by a miraculous coincidence, it happens
also to be the day of the Santissima Luisa, the patron saint
of my beloved, most honored, and never-to-be-forgotten queen
and sovereign lady. And, as the bishop rides to the cathe-
"

dral, by a great misfortune the wheels of the carriage of the

most right reverend and best-beloved father come off in the
fosse or ditch just in front of the palace of the governor of
my most gracious sovereign Charles the Fourth, and the holy
father is thrown forward into the mud."
" Inez, you shall not run on so."
" Dear duenna, hold your peace I shall and : I will. And
all shall be said decently and in order.
"
Word is carried of the misfortune to the cathedral, where
Ransom is waiting in the sacristy, with a note from Miss
Eunice Perry, heretic though she be, and fated to be burned
when her time comes, inviting the most reverend and beloved
father to dinner. Ransom observes the dangers to the elect,
should the prolocution in honor of my
gracious and never-to-
be-forgotten queen be omitted. By
happy instinct he slips
a
off his white jacket, and with grace and ease slips on the
tunic, which seems to him most to resemble the Calvinistic
gown of his childhood ; and then, preceded by acolytes, and
followed by tliurifers, he mounts to the pulpit, just as the
faithful are turning away disappointed, and says, —
" '
It's allnonsense, 'n I told the biship so, last time I see
him. I says, says I, them hubs to the wheel of your coach
ain't fit for nothin', tliey ain't ; and ef you will ride in it you'll
break down some day, an' good enough for you. '
Nnow he
has broke down, jest as I told him he would, 'n he can't
preach the queen's sermon. I tell you the queen ain't much,
but she's a sight better than you deserve, any on you. Ye
ain't fit to have a queen, none on ye ; ye don't know nothin',
'n ye don't know what a real good queen is. Ye'd git more'n
ye've got any rights to, ef ye had old George the Third, the

beggar ; 'n he's the wust king that ever wos, or ever will be.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 109

The queen's birthday is to-day, so they sez ; but they's all

liars, and don't know nothin', as how should they, seein'

they's all Catholics and niggers together, and ain't learned
nothin' ? I tell the biship they ain't no good preachin' to such
a crew as you be ; but, becos he can't come himself, I've come
"
to tell ye all ye may go home.'
" Inez, you shall not run on so," said Eunice, really pro-
voked that the girl, who had so much deep feeling in her,
should sweep into such arrant nonsense.
" Dearest Aunt Eunice, you are afraid that I shall lose my
reputation in the eyes of dear White Hawk and of Mr. Har-
rod. Would you perhaps be so kind as to preach the queen's
sermon yourself "i

" That is a way she has, Mr. Harrod ; and I recommend

it to you, if you are ever so fortunate as to have the educa-

tion of a young lady of seventeen intrusted to you."

" This dear Aunt Eunice of mine, who is the loveliest and
kindest duenna that ever was in this world, if I do say so,
she will rebuke me for my sins, because I do not sin to please
heir ; and then she will set the example of the way the thing

ought to be done.
" For instance : suppose I am tempted by the spirit of

evil to imitate the Donna Dulcinea del Tobago,- 1 call her,

because her husband, the chief justice, smokes all day long
suppose I am tempted to imitate her, — I sit down at my
piano-forte, and I just begin, —
' Oh, happy souls ! by death at length set free,'

when my dear aunt says, '

You shall not do so, Inez : it is

very wrong.' And then I begin again, and she says, '
Inez,
it is very improper.' And then, if I begin a third time, she
says, 'Inez, ifdo any thing so absurd, pray do it
you will
correctly. Let me sit there. I will show you how she sings
it
;
and then she makes the Donna Dulcinea ten times as
'

absurd as I could, because she has heard her ten times as

no PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

often. —
You are the dearest old aunt that ever was, and I
am the worst tease that ever was born."
And she flung herself on the neck of her aunt, and kissed
her again and again.
Meanwhile the White Hawk sat amused beyond expres-
sion,and mystified quite as much by what was to her only
a pantomime, in which she could not make out one term in
ten.
As Inez ceased her eulogy, she looked around upon the
girl,and caught the roguish twinkle of her eye, and could
not but turn to her, and kiss her as eagerly as she had kissed
her aunt, though from a sentiment wholly different.
For both these ladies watched the White Hawk with the
feeling with which you would watch an infant, mingled with
that with which you regard a woman. " What does she think ?
How does this all seem ? What would she say if she could
speak to us ?
The range of her pantomime, and the spirit and truth of
Harrod's interpretation of it, were enough to express things,
and to make them feel, just up to a certain point, that here
was a woman closely tied to them, sympathizing with them,
as they, But where things stopped, and
indeed, with her.
ideas began, — where they wanted language most,
just
language stopped for them, and White Hawk seemed like a
child of whose resources even they knew nothing. It was a
comfort to Inez to overwhelm her with this storm of kisses,
and a comfort to the other also. •

"She must learn to speak to us. And,' while we are on the

trail here, she shall learn her own language. We will not
make her talk about your '
loftiness,' and your '
serenity,'
Miss Eunice."
" Dear, dear Ma-ry," said the girl, turning to her again,
and speaking very slowly, as if that would help, " do say
something to me. Talk baby-talk, dear Ma-ry."
And
then she tried her with " ma-ma " and, as
; before, it

was very certain that " Ma-ry " knew what these syllables
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." m
meant. And with a wild eagerness she would listen to what
Inez said to her, and then would try to form words like
Inez's words. Perhaps she had some lingering memory of
what her mother had taught her ; but the words would not
come.
"Then, if I cannot teach you, you shall teach me, dear
Ma-ry." And so the two girls began, with Harrod's aid, to
work out the chief central signs of the language of panto-
mime and, when Inez found her chance, she would make
;

" Ma-ry " repeat in English this word or that, which the girl

caught quickly. The readiness of her organs for this speech

was enough to show that she had had some training in it
when she was yet very young.
In this double schooling the girls passed the afternoon,
for many miles after they were all in the saddle again.
Indeed, it became occupation and amusement for all the
leaders of the party for day after day in their not very event-
ful journey. Their fortune did not differ from that of most
travellers in such an expedition. The spirit and freshness
of an open-air life lifted them well over the discomforts of a
beginning and when the bivouac, the trail, and the forest
;

began to be an old story, the experience gained in a thou-

sand details made compensation for the lack of novelty and
consequent excitement. For some days from Nacogdoches,
the trail led them through woods, only occasionally broken
by little prairies. A little Spanish post at the Trinity River,
and once or twice the humble beginnings of some settler on
the trail, vary the yellow pages of poor little Inez's diary.
But the party were beginning to grow reckless, in comparison
with their caution at the outset, —
reckless merely because
they had been so favored in the weather and in the monoto-
nous safety of their march, —
when they were recalled, only
too suddenly, to the sense of the danger which always hangs
over such travellers in the wilderness.
Harrod had sent on his men in advance, as had come to

be the custom, with directions to select the position for the

112 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

camp, and have the ladies' tents ready before the caravan
proper arrived. Adams and Richards found that a bayou
known as the Litde Brassos was so swollen that the passage
would be perhaps circuitous and certainly difficult, and, with
fit discretion, fixed their camp on high land above the water's

edge, although by this location the party made a march

shorter by an hour than was usual. Nobody complained,
however, of the early release from the saddle, the two young
people least of all. A few minutes were enough for them to
refit themselves ; and there was then half an hour left before

the late dinner or early supper —

now called by one name,
and now by another — which always closed the day.
Harrod's directions were absolute, and Ransom's as well,
that there should be no straggling, not ftie least, from the

camp ; and the were least inclined of any to disregard

girls
them. Certainly poor little Inez had no thought of disobedi-
ence, when she pointed out to Harrod a little knoll, hardly
five rods from where they stood, and said to him that it must
command a better view of the bayou than they had at the
camp itself, and she would try once again if she could make
any manner of sketch there, which would serve as a sugges-
tion of the journey to her father. For both Eunice and Inez
had cultivated some little talent they had ia this way j and
besides the fiddle-faddle in work on ivory, vvhich was a not
unusual accomplishment for French ladies in their time, each
of them had tried to train herself — and Eunice had with
some success trained Inez — in drawing, in the open air,

from nature. In the close forest of the first few days from
Nacogdoches, Inez had found few opportunities for her little
sketch-book ; and Harrod encouraged her in her proposal
now, and promised to join her so soon as the horses were all
unpacked and fitly tethered for the night.
Inez sat there for a minute, made the notes in her diary
(which in yellow ink on yellow paper still appear on that

page), and then left the book open while she ran down to the
edge of the bayou to fill the water-bottle of her paint-box.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS.-" "3
She was surprised and interested to see the variety of the
footmarks of the different beasts who had come to the same
spot before her for drink. A large log of a fallen tree "lay
over the water ; and the fearless girl, who was not without
practice in such gymnastics in her plantation life, ran out
upon it to fill her little flask with water as clear as she could
find.
Here her view up and down the little lake for lake it —
seemed —
widened on each side. The sky was clouded so
that Inez lost the lights of the afternoon sun, but still it was
a scene of wonderful beauty. The dark shadows, crimson
and scarlet, of the autumn foliage, the tall, clear-cut oak,
whose lines were so sharp against the sky, were all perfectly
reflected in the water, with a distinctness so vivid that she
had only to bend her head, and look under her arm, to make
the real heavens seem the deception, and the reflection the
reality. From the distance her attention was gradually called
to her own shore a great water-snake poked his head above
:

the water, and really seemed to look at her for a moment,

then with an angry flash broke the smooth surface for a
moment, and plunged out of sight. Great bunches of water-
grapes hung near her ; bright leaves of persimmon, red oak
and red bay, swamp oak and tupelo, were all around her, and
tempted her to make a little bouquet for the supper-table.
Her quarters in the branches of the fallen tree were not
extensive. But the girl was active, and was diligently cull-
ing her various colors, when her eye caught sight in the
water of a treasure she had coveted since she met the Caddo
Indians, —
the great seed-vessels, namely, of the gigantic
water-lilyof those regions, the Nelumbo lutea, or sacred
" bean of India."
Were they beyond reach ? If they were. Ransom would
come down for her in a minute in the morning, before they
started. But, if she had not this provoking hat and shawl
on, could she not clamber down to the water's edge among
the small branches, and with a stick break them off so they
114 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

could be floated in ? It was worth the trial. And so the

girl hung up offending hat with the shawl, broke o£E
the
the strongest bough she could manage, and descended to the
water's edge again for her foraging.
It took longer than she meant, for the rattles were very
provoking. Rattles, be it said, these great seed-vessels are,
in the Indian economies ; and it was for rattles in dancing
that Miss Inez thought them so well worth collecting. But,
with much pulling and hauling, three of them consented to
loosen themselves from their anchorage, and, to Inez's de-
light, began to float slowly across to the other side of her
little cove. Now she had only to run around there, and
secure her prizes. But as she turned to recover her hat and
shawl, and to work shoreward with her not-forgotten bouquet,
looking out through the bushes upon the little opening^ in the
shrubbery which had been her path, the girl saw what she
knew in an instant must be the gigantic Texas panther,
quietly walking down to the water, with two little cubs
at its side. Inez was frightened : of that there is no doubt.
And to herself she owned she was frightened. She would
have been frightened had she met the beast on the travelled
trail but here the panther had her at disadvantage. She
;

had, however, the presence of mind to utter no sound. If

the panther had not made her out hidden in the shrubbery,
she would not call his attention. Would he be good enough
to lap his water, and go
perhaps ?
his way,
So she waited, her heart in her mouth, not daring to wink,
as she looked through the little opening in the tupelo beside
her. These, then, were the footmarks which she had been
wondering about, and had thought might be the prints
of bears. Bears, indeed ! Much did she know of bears
Would the creature never be done ? What did she know
about panthers Did panthers drink enough
? for nine days,
like camels ? At last the panther had drunk enough — and
the little panthers. But then another process began. They
all had to make their ablutions. If Inez had not been
INEZ HAS AN ADVENTURE.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 115

wretched she could have laughed to see the giant beast lap-
ping her paws, just as her dear old Florinda did at home, and
purring its approval over the little wretches, as they did the
same. But now she had rather cry than laugh. Should she
have to stay here all night ? Had she better stay all night,
or risk every thing by a cry that they could hear at camp .'

Would they hear her at the camp if she did cry ?

There is no reason to suppose that the poor girl was left

twenty minutes in her enforced silence, stiff with the posture

in which she stood, and cold with fear and with the night
mist which, even before the sun went down, began to creep
up from the bayou ; but it seemed to her twenty hours, and
well it might. Still it did not last forever. The cubs at
'last finished washing the last claw of the last leg
and the old j

lady panther, or old gentleman, whichever the sex may have

been, seemed satisfied that here was no place for spending
the night. Perhaps some rustle in the shrubbery gave sign
of game. Any way, without noise, the great beast turned on
its tracks, paused a moment, and then made one great bound

inland, followed by the little ones. Inez had some faith left
in her in the power of the human voice ; and she did her best
to stimulate their flight by one piercing scream, which she
changed into a war-whoop, according to the best directions
which White Hawk had given her, —
a feminine war-whoop,
a war-whoop of the soprano or treble variety, but still a
war-whoop. As such it was received apparently by the
panthers, who made no tarry, but were seen no more.
Inez hastened to avail herself of her victory. Hat and
shawl were recovered. Firmly and quickly she extricated
herself from the labyrinth of boughs of the fallen cottonwood
tree, and almost ran, in her nervous triumph, along its trunk

to the shore. Up the beaten pathway she ran, marking now

the fresh impression of the beasts' tracks before her. Once
and again she cried aloud, hoping that she might be heard
in the camp. She had left, and remembered she had left,
her notf -book and her sketch-book on the knoll. But they
il6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

might go. For herself, the sight of the tents was all in all
and she turned from the path she followed as she came down,
all the more willingly because she saw the panthers had fol-

lowed it also, to run along the broader way, better marked,

which kept upon the level to the beaten trail of travel.
" Broader way, and better marked." Oh, Inez, Inez broad !

is the way that leads to destruction and how many simple

;

wood-farers, nay, how many skilled in wood-craft, have

remembered this text when it was too late to profit by it
Three minutes were enough to show the girl that this better-
marked track did not lead to the travelled trail. It turned

off just as it should not do, and it clung to the bayou. This
would never do. They would miss her and be at the tents,
frightened. Panther or no panther, she would go up over
the knoll. So she turned back on her steps, and began to
run now, because she knew how nervous her aunt would be.
And again the girl shouted cheerily, called on the highest
key, and sounded her newly learned war-whoop.
But, as she ran, the path confused her. Could she have
passed that flaming sassafras without so much as noticing it ?
Any way, she should recognize the great mass of bays where
she had last noticed the panthers' tracks. She had seen
them as she ran down, and as she came up. She hurried on ;

but she certainly had returned much farther than she went,
when she came out on a strange log flung up in some freshet,
which she knew she had not seen before. And there was no
clump of bays. Was this being lost ? Was she lost ?
Why, Inez had to confess to herself, that she was lost
just a little bit, but nothing to be afraid of.; but still lost
enough to talk about afterwards, she certainly was.
Yet, as she said to herself again and again, she could not
be a quarter of a mile, nor half a quarter of a mile, from
camp. As soon as they missed her, —
and by this time they
had missed her, —
they would be out to look for her. How
provoking that she, of all the party, should make so much

bother to the rest ! They would watch her now like ^o many
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 117

cats all the rest of the way. What a fool she was ever to
leave the knoll
So Inez stopped again, shouted again, and listened, and
listened, to hear nothing but a swamp-owl.
If the sky had been clear, she would have had no cause
for anxiety. In that case they would have light enough to
find her in. She would have had the sunset glow to steer by
and she would have had no difficulty in finding them. But,
with this horrid gray over every thing, she dared not turn
round, without fearing that she might lose the direction in
which the theory of the moment told her she ought to be
faring. And these openings which she had called trails —
which were probably broken by wild horses and wild oxen as
they came down to the bayou to drink —
would not go in one
direction for ten paces. They bent right and left, this way
and that so that, without some sure token of sun or star, it
;

was impossible, as Inez felt, to know which way she was

walking.
And was conscious
at last, as this perplexity increased, she
that the sun must have set, and that the twilight, never long,
was now fairly upon her. All the time there was this feaf?ul
silence, only broken by her own voice, and that hateful owl.
Was she wise to keep on in her theories of this way or that
way ? She had never yet come back, either upon the fallen
Cottonwood tree, or upon the bunch of bays which was her
landmark and it was doubtless her wisest determination to
;

stay where she was. The chances that the larger party would
find her were much greater than that she alone would find
them but by this time she was sure that, if she kept on in
\

any direction, there was an even chance that she was going
farther and farther wrong.
But it was too cold for her to sit down, wrap herself never
so closely in her shawl. The poor girl tried this. She must
keep in motion. Back and forth she walked, fixing her march
by signs which she could not mistake, even in the gathering
darkness. How fast that darkness gathered! The wind
Il8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

seemed to rise, too, as the night came on ; and a fine rain, that
seemed as cold as snow to her, came to give the last drop to
her wretchedness. If she were tempted for a moment to
abandon her sentry beat, and try this wild experiment or that
to the right or left, some odious fallen trunk, wet with moss
and decay,- lay just where she pressed in to the shrubbery, as if
placed there to reveal to her her absolute powerlessness. She
was dead with cold, and even in all her wretchedness knew
that she was hungry. How stupid to be hungry when she
had so much else to trouble her But at least she would !

make a system of her march. She would walk fifty times

this way, to the stump, and fifty times that way ; then she
would stop, and cry out, and sound her war-whoop ; then
she would take up her sentry march again. And so she did.
This way, at least, time would not pass without her knowing
whether were near midnight or no.
it

" Hark God be praised, there is a gun and there is an-

! !

other and there is another

1 They have come on the right
!

track, and I am safe " So she shouted again, and sounded

1

her war-whoop again, and listened, and then again, and —

listened again. One more gun ! but then no more ! Poor
Inez ! Certainly they were all on one side of her. If only it
were not so piteously dark ! If she could only work half the
distance in that direction which her fifty sentry beats made
put together But when she struggled that way through the
I

tangle, and over one wet log and another, it was only to find
her poor wet feet sinking down into mud and water She 1

did not dare keep on. All that was left for her was to find
her tramping ground again ; and this she did.
" Good God, take care of me My poor dear father, ! —
what would he say if he knew his child 'was dying close
to her friends ? Dear mamma, keep watch over your little
!
girl
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 119

CHAPTER X.

LIFE ON THK BRASSOS.

" As yet a colt he stalks with lofty pace,

And balances his limbs with flexile grace
First leads the way, the threatening torrent braves,
And dares the unknown arch that spans the waves.
Light on his airy crest his slender head,
His belly short, his loins luxuriant spread
Muscle on muscle knots his brawny breast
No fear alarms him, nor vain shouts molest.
But, at the clash of arms, his ear afar
Drinks the deep sound, and vibrates to the war
Flames from each nostril roll in gathered stream
His quivering limbs with restless motion gleam ;

O'er his right shoiJder, floating full and fair,

Sweeps his thick mane, and spreads its pomp of h^

Swift works his double spine, and earth around
Kings to his solid hoof that wears the ground.''
SOTHEBY.

But it is time that this history should return from tracing

the varying fortunes of one of the companies of Philip Nolan's
friends, to look at the fortunes of that other company whom
he had himself enlisted, and to whom he had returned when
he left Eunice and Inez, in care of Harrod for the moment,
near the ferry of the Sabine River.
Had we movements as we have of
diaries as full of these
those of Eunice and Inez, which have proved of less account
in history, this chapter might take fuller proportions than
those which have brought those ladies to the waters of the
Brasses River. It proved that the expedition of young men
120 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

led by Nolan, from Natchez and Texas, was. destined to meet

the Spanish army in array of battle. Here was the first of
those trials of strength between the descendants of Cortez
and his men on the one hand, and the descendants of New
Englanders and Virginians on the other, which were to end
in the independence of Texas forty years after. But of this
expedition we have now scarcely a record, —
none excepting
one memoir from its youngest member, as drawn up by him
after the expiration of a quarter of a century. Of the false
and crafty pursuit by the Spanish forces, the archives of
Texas and Mexico are full. The Spanish Armada did not
cause more alarm in England than poor Phil Nolan's horse-
hunting expedition among the very officers who had given
him his right to enter their territory.
As has been already said, the party gathered at Natchez,
which was Nolan's home, so far as a man of affairs like him,
a man of so many languages and so many lands, can be said
to have had one. Natchez, a settlement of some six hundred
persons, was now an American town, having passed under
the flag of the United States a year or two before. It had
been founded by the French, however and the Spanish ;

Government gave up the administration only after severe

pressure, and indeed with riotous disturbances of the inhabit-
ants. For it was becoming the headquarters of the Western
race ofmen ; and, when they suspected that the Spanish
Government was slow in its execution of the treaty which
provided for the surrender of Natchez to our own sway, their
indignation knew no bounds. In such a community as this
it is not difficult to fancy the feeling excited by the examina-
tion of Nolan — of which we have already spoken when —
Vidal, the Spanish consul, complained that he was about to
invade the territory of Mexico.
Nolan had, in fact, enrolled a company of more than twenty
men on this expedition — the third which he had undertaken
in his trading for wild horses. It was admitted on all hands,
that this trade was prohibited under the general restrictions
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 121

which grew out of the hateful, policy of that hateful wretch,

Philip the Second —
Bloody Mary's husband, let it be rev-
erently remembered in passing. But in this case Don Pedro
de Nava, the commandant-general of the north-eastern prov-
inces of New Spain, had given Nolan a formal permission
to carry it on. The horses were indeed needed in the
Spanish garrisons in Louisiana. On his several returns to
Orleans, Nolan had sent presents of handsome horses to the
governor, as token of his success. And when these facts
appeared on the hearing before Judge Bruen, the American
judge, he said that this could not be regarded as a hostile
expedition against a friendly power ; it was a trading ex-
pedition permitted in form by the authorities of that power.
The United States, he said, was not bound to intervene, nor
would it intervene in any way.
Accordingly the gay young party started, full of life and
hope. I am afraid no man of them would have turned back
had Judge Bruen addressed them paternally, and told them
that they were violating the neutrality of the United States
by an attack upon the territory of its friends. I am afraid
none of them loved the King of Spain. But I am bound to
say, that, so far as three-quarters of a century has unlocked
the secrets of the past, there is no evidence that Philip Nolan
spoke untruly that day, or that he had any foolish notion of
invasion or conquest. The reader will see that his conduct,
and that men, show no signs of any such notion and
of his ;

neither the archives of Mexico nor of America have divulged

any word to imply it.^
1 The writer begs to acknowledge the courtesy with which Mr. Fish and Mr.
Jefferson, the accomplished keeper of rolls, as well as Gen. Belknap at the War
Office, have made every research in the national archives which would throw any
light on the darker places of this history. The following letter to Philip Nolan, a
copy of which has been preserved in the State Department, is so curious, that even
the reader of a novel may pause to look at it : —
Thomas Jefferson to Philip Nolan.
Philadelphia, June 21, 1798.
Sir, — It is some time since I have understood that there are large herds of horses in
awild state in the country west of the Mississippi, and have been desirous ^of obtaining
122 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

The young fellows crossed the Mississippi at Walnut Hills,^

above Natchez, and rode westerly. Their route would thus
lie between the posts of Natchitoches and Washita both of —
them old French posts, now held by Spanish garrisons. The
Spanish consul at Natchez had sent word to the commandant
at Washita that this band was coming ; and he sent out a
party of dragoons to meet them. This was the party of
which the reader has heard already. They were more tlian
twice as numerous as Nolan's men, but they hesitated to
attack him, as well they might. For, whether he had or had
not any right to bring horses out from New Spain, he was not
yet in New Spain he was still in Louisiana. More than
:

this, as has been said, he carried with him the permission of

the Spanish governor to cross the frontier for the purposes
of his trade.
The Spanish captain therefore pretended that he had only
come out to hunt for some horses he had lost. But, as Nolan
observed, so soon as he advanced with his friends, the
Spanish soldiers turned and dogged him ; nor did he lose

details of their history in that State. Mr. BrowD, Senator from KentBcky, informs me it
would be inyour power to give interesting information on this subject, and encourages me
to ask it. The circumstances of the Old World have, beyond the records of history, been
such as admitted not that animal to exist in a state of nature. The condition of America
is rapidly advancing to the same. The present, then, is probably the only moment in the
age of the world, and the herds above mentioned the only subjects, of which we can avail
ourselves to obtain what has never yet been recorded, and never can be again, in all proba-
bility. I will add that your information is the sole reliance, as far as Z can at present see,
for obtaining this desideratum. You will render to natural history
a very acceptable
service, therefore, if you our Philosophical Society to add so interesting a
will enable
chapter to the history of this animal. I need not specify to you the particular facts asked
for, as your knowledge of the animal in his domesticated, as well as his wild state, will
naturally have led your attention to those particulars in the manners, habits, and laws of
which are peculiar to his wild state. I wish you not to be anxious about the
his existence,
form of your information the exactness of the substance alone is material ; and if, after
:

giving in a the facts you at present possess, you could be so good on subse-
first letter all

quent occasions as to furnish such others in addition as you may acquire from time to
time, your communications will always be thankfully received. If addressed to me at
Monticello, and put into any post-office of Kentucky or Tennessee, they will reach me
speedily and safely, and will be considered as obligations on, sir,
Your most obedient, humble servant,
Mk. Nolan. Th : Jefferson.
1 Now Vicksburg.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 123

sight of them till he passed the garrison to which they

belonged. He declined to go into Washita, and for the same
reason declined to bring his party into Natchitoches, as we
have seen. They crossed the Washita River, rode merrily
on and on till they came to the Red River, their party being
diminished only by the absence of Harrod, Richards, Adams,
and King. When Blackburn had joined, Cassar had joined
also; for Caesar had an enthusiasm for Capt. Nolan, and
thought to see wild life, to collect silver, and to return soon
to Miss Inez. Under the captain's lead, so soon as he had
determined to give Natchitoches the go-by, they kept on the
east side from the Red River, till they came to the village of
the Caddoes. Among these good-natured and friendly peo-
ple, they staid long enough to build a raft, and ferry their
horses over ; and now the real enterprise for which they had
started was begun.
The Caddoes were not yet used to visits from whites,
though they had learned to take their furs to Natchitoches
every year to sell. The Americans found them in this
" month of turkeys," as they called October, or the " moon "
which filled the greater part of October, enjoying the holiday
of an Indian's life. Their lodges were made by a frame-
work of poles placed in a circle in the ground, with the tops
united in an oval form. This framework was tightly bound
together, and the whole nicely thatched. Within, every per-
son had a " bunk " of his own, raised from the ground, and
covered with buffalo-skins, —
not an uncomfortable house.
Many of these youngsters who visited them here had been
born in log cabins which had not so much room upon the
floor; for these lodges covered a circle which was twenty-
five feet in diameter. More than once, as the party went
forward, were the members of it glad to accept the hospi-
tality which such lodges offered, and more than once glad to
build such for their own quarters.
And, from this moment, the work and the play of the little
party began. Nolan was encouraged so soon as he learned
124 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

that his presence and escort for the party of ladies were no
longer needed. One day he was negotiating with Twowok-
anies, — friendly people enough when they saw the strength
of the long-knives ; he bought from them some fine horses,

and so the business of the expedition prospered. Six days

more brought them to Trinity River, and across it. All these
young men were used to open prairie life, with its freedom
and adventure; but only the six Spaniards of the party,
Nolan himself, and one or two of the Americans, had ever
taken wild horses in fair chase with the- lasso. The use of
it was to be taught and learned, as the
still warm days
of October and November passed. While Eunice and Inez
were wending westward from Nacogdoches, many was the
frolic, and many the upset, the empty saddle, and the hair-

breadth escape, by which the greenhorns of this other party

were broken into their new business. But it was a jolly and
a hearty life ; and no man regretted the adventure while
buffalo-meat and fine weather lasted.
As they crossed the divide between the Trinity and the
Brassos, moving on a parallel line with the smaller party,
the supply of buffalo-meat gave out ; and they had to try the
experiment of horse-flesh. Bnt there were few of them
whose fathers and grandfathers had not tried that before
them, though few of them guessed that it was to be made
fashionable in Parisian cafes. As long ago as the days of
Philip of Mount Hope, the savage who entertained Capt.
Church offered him his choice of " cow-beef " or " horse-
beef." With the Brassos River came good fare again, elk, —
antelope, turkeys, buffaloes, and wild horses by thousands.
So the captain directed that here the camp should be
established and here " Nolan's River " still flows, to main-
;

tain the memory of this camp, and of the gallant pioneer

who built it for a generation which has, alas well-nigh for- !

gotten him. Wild horses are but an uncertain, shall one say
a skittish, property ? It is said of all riches, that " they take
to themselves wings, and fly." Of that form of wealth which
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 125

Nolan and were collecting, the essential and

his friends
special worth isdo not have to take to themselves
that they
legs, but are all ready at any moment to flee. Without this
quality, indeed, it would cease to be wealth. In this case,
moreover, the neighborhood of Twowokanies, Comanches,
Apaches, Lipans, and redskins without a name, made the
uncertainty of wealth still more uncertain. Whatever else
was doubtful, this was sure, that, if these rascals could run
off the horses as fast as they were corralled, they would do
so. And thus to hunt all day, and to keep watch all night,
was the duty of the little party as the long nights of winter
came on.
The first necessity, therefore, at " Nolan's River," was to
build a corral, or pen, of logs, to be enlarged from time to
time, as the success of hunting warranted.^ When the task
was went forward with more animation;
over, the hunting
and, as the new year turned, the young fellows rejoiced in a
drove of three hundred fine horses, which, as they promised
themselves, they should take to a good market in Louisiana
and in the Mississippi territory, as soon as the spring should
open. Camp-life had its usual adventures ; but the great
occasion of the winter was the arrival of a party of two
hundred Comanches, men, women, and children, on their
way to the Red River. Several tribes of different names
met at this place. A great chief named Nicoroco had sum-
moned them together there. The young whites smoked the
pipe of peace with them all, gave them presents as they
could, and thought they had opened amicable relations with
them. And so they returned to their corral and their hunt-
ing.
Blackburn had joined, with Caesar. But to the surprise of
all, —
that of the captain most of all, —
Harrod and his
squad did not appear.
Of all the winter's sojourn there, this reader need now be
1 The spot is not known. Some of my correspondents in Texas place it as
far south as Waco County, but the name " Nolan's River " makes this doubtful.
126 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

delayed only by the following letter, which opens the plans

and hopes, the annoyances and of Capt. Nol-
failures,
an:

Philip Nolan to Eunice Perry:

Nolan's River, in the Wilderness,
4th day of the month of chestnuts.
Last year of the old century.

My dear Miss Perry, —

If you think me dead, this letter unde-
ceives you. you think me faithless, let me try to undeceive you. If,
If
which is impossible, you think I have forgotten you or Miss Inez, no
words that I can write will undeceive you.
Blackburn joined us safely at the crossing of Trinity River, and
brought us news from you not three days old. I have to thank you for
your letter, and Miss Inez for her little postscript, for which I will repay
her yet. You were right in thinking that the news which Will sent of
the cordiality of the two colonels, and of their determination to provide
escort for you, combined with your own great courtesy in relieving me
from my promise to your brother, were the causes which changed my
plans as formed when we parted. Nothing but the statement of your
own judgment and wish would have debarred me from the pleasure of
seeing you and your niece soon.
It is very true, as you suspected, that my presence with my men gives
vigor and unity to their work, which it must have if it is to succeed.
They are a good set, on the whole ; but boys are boys, and rangers are
rangers, and Spaniards are Spaniards. I am sometimes tempted to leave
them to cut each others' throats when they stumble into one of their
quarrels ; and then, another day, when all has worked well, and they are
dancing or singing, or telling camp stories round their fire, I wonder that
I have ever thought them any thing but a band of brothers.
My only anxiety arises from the detention of Will Harrod and his
men, who have not joined me ; but I suppose you know, better than I,

the cause of their delay.

The great enterprise goes forward happily. I shall hope to send Mr.
Jefferson a valuable letter. If only I can send him a. horse across the
AUeghanies have for your brother's own saddle the handsomest
I I
black charger he ever set his eyes upon, the stud of the First Consul him-
self, or of your Gracious Majesty Charles the Fourth, not excepted. If
only the beast escapes " One Eye," and the distemper and yellow-water,
— which may Castor and Pollux grant Are not they the protectors
!

of horses ? An exciting life is ours. In the saddle for the whole of

daylight, we do not lose our anxiety when the night comes on : at least
'THEY TOOK-MASTER ONE EYE AND TIED HIM TO A TREE FOR
THE NIGHT."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 127

we chiefs do not My boys are snoring around this pine-knot fire, while
I am writing, as if they knew no care. But it is always so.
" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

But my fair enemy Miss Inez will never be satisfied, if in the wil-
derness here I end by quoting Shakspeare. Tell her it is for her sake
that I endmy letter with an adventure, which she may introduce into her
romance. You must know, and she must know, that I and half a
first

dozen of my boys have been on a visit to Nicoroco, the great chief of

chieftains in these regions. The great Wallace himself was not so bare-
legged as Nicoroco nor did his sway extend nearly so far. Yes, and
is,

we smoked calumets of peace enough to make Miss Inez sick ten times
over, and Miss Perry also, unless your new w^f Hawk-Eye, is her —
name .'
—
have taught you, faster than I believe, the peaceful habits of the
wilderness. Heavens if your royal master's handsome chief commander,
!

the " Prince of Peace,'' as I

am told he is called, could but have presided,
he would never have feared the salvajos Americanos any more ! Ah,
well ! We returned from these pacifications to our corral, our buffalo-
meat, and our horses, and alas 1 a few pacified Comanches returned
with us.
What faith can you put in man ? Early one morning our dear friends
departed and when we shook ourselves a few hours after, for our break-
;

fast, we found, that, by some accident not to be explained, they had taken
with them all of our eleven saddle-horses, and that for the future we were
to pursue the mustangs on foot, and on foot were to drive them through
the deserts to Natchez and Orleans ! This was the interpretation given
in effect to all our pacifications !

What to do ? Quien sabe ? Cerbunly I did not know. But I did

know I was neither going to ride a wild mustang home, nor appear on
foot in the presence of my townsfolk the other side of the Father of
Waters. So I called for volunteers, and your dear old Caesar stepped
forth first Three white men joined, ashamed to be outdone by a darkey.
On foot we started. On foot we followed their trail for nine days.
Day by day they were more careless. Day by day we were more cheer-
ful. The ninth day we walked gently into their camp, unsuspected and
unexpected. There was my whom you rode that Tuesday
old chestnut,
there were three other of our beasts and there that evening came in, as
;

innocent as a lamb, my old friend One Eye, of whom I have told you
before, with some excellent friends of his, mounted on the other seven of
our brutes. This time I took Master One Eye, and tied him to a tree for
the night, to give him a chance to ponder the principles of the Great Cal-
umet. The next morning we helped ourselves to all the bear-meat we
could carry, and turned our faces to Nolan's River. We were not nine
days coming home.
128 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

There, Miss Inez ! had ever Amadis such an adventure, or Robert

Bruce, or the Count Odoardo de Rascallo, or your handsome hero Gen.
Junot ?
It is near midnight, unless Orion tells lies ; and the fire bums low.
My homage is in all these lines. Adios.
Your ladyship's most faithful vassal.
To come or to stay away,
Phiup Nolan.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 129

CHAPTER XI.

RUMORS OF WARS.

" With chosen men of Leon, from the city Bernard goes,
To protect the soil of Spain from the spear of foreign foes, —
From the city which is planted in the midst between the seas,
To preserve the name and glory of old Pelayo's victories."
LOCKHART,

Capt. Philip Nolan was, when he wrote, in far greater

danger than he supposed.
As I write this morning, if any gentleman now by the
side of " Nolan's River " were curious to know if King Al-
fonso spent an agreeable night last night, he could sfend to
some station not far away, and his curiosity would be relieved
before dinner. At least, I suppose so. I know that I was
favored some hours ago with the intelligence, which I did not
want, that King Alfonso was about to leave Madrid this
morning, and ride to his army. In truth, as it happens, I
know better what he is going to do to-day than I know where
my next neighbor at the foot of the hill is going.
But, when Philip Nolan wrote these merry words to Eunice
Perry, he knew little enough of what was doing at Madrid
and he knew still less, as it happened, of what was in the
wind at a capital much nearer to him. This was the famous
and noble city of Chihuahua, —
a city some three hundred
miles west of Nolan's corral. To this distant point I shall

not have to ask the reader to go again ; but, before the several
pieces on our little board advance another step, I must ask
him to look for a moment now behind all intermediate pawns,
130 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

and see what is the attitude of him who represents the king,

protected here by his distant and forgotten bishops, knights,

and castles.
Chihuahua was, in the year 1800, a city quite as imposing
in aspect as it is to-day. To those simple people who had to

come and go one or another measure of justice,

thither for
injustice, protection, or vengeance, it seemed the most mag-
nificent city in the world, —
wholly surpassing the grandeurs
of all other frontier or garrison towns. Around the public
square were built a splendid cathedral, the royal treasury,
and a building which served as the hotel-de-ville of the
administration of the city. The cathedral was one of the
most splendid in New Spain. It had been erected at enor-
mous cost, and was regarded with astonishment and pride by
all the people, who had seen no statues or pictures to com-

pare with those displayed in its adorrmients. Several noble

" missiones," a military academy, the establishments of the
Dominicans, Franciscans, and those which the Jesuits had
formerly built, added to the European aspect of the city.

Our business with Chihuahua is that, in this city, Don

Pedro de Nava, the general-commandant of the north-eastern
provinces at this time, held his court. Under the adminis-
tration then existing in New Spain, this was an unlimited
military authority. In the more southern provinces of what
is now
the Republic of Mexico, a system of a sort of courts
of appeal known as " audiences " had been created as some
check upon the viceroy apd the intendants. But in the
northern provinces no such system was known, and the mili-
tary law corresponded precisely to the definition given in
Boston in Gen. Gage's time :
—
" ist. The commander does as he chooses.
" 2d, Military law is the law that permits him to do so."

This Gov. -Gen. de Nava had, as the reader has been told,
issued to Nolan a formal permission to come from Louisiana
for horses, to take such as were needed for the remount of
the Spanish army, and for these purposes to bring with him
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 131

two thousand dollars' worth of goods for trade with the In-
dians. I have seen De Nava's own account of this order in
the curious archives at San Antonio. Alas I am afraid poor
!

Phil Nolan had no two thousand dollars' worth of goods, and

that that part of the permit served him little. After De Nava
issued it, — on some report Madridto on the subject, or on
some new — much
terror there, stricter orders came to him,
which he was obliged to repeat to all the local governors.
He became painfully aware that his permit to Nolan exceeded
by far his present power. He does not seem to have thought
of notifying him that it was recalled. He did write to San
Antonio and to Nacogodoches, to say that nobody else must,
come for the same purpose, but that his permit to Nolan
was still an excuse for his coming. He said, that, as Nolan
might have with him the two thousand dollars' worth of
goods permitted, the commanders at San Antonio might take
them off his hands for the royal service. At the same time he
intimated that it was so long since his permit was given, that
Nolan ought not to come. But these papers all show a weak
man, conscious that his superiors will be displeased by what
he has already done, and hoping against hope that something
may turn up so that no harm may come of it.
Gov. Salcedo, of whom the reader will hear again, was the
evil spirit of the Spanish administration of these regions, as

the worthless " Prince of Peace " was its evil spirit at home.
Gen. Salcedo was the governor who had expressed the
wish, cited in an earlier chapter, that he could even prevent
the birds from crossing from Louisiana into Texas. He was
a faithful disciple of the extremest views of King Philip.
While the local governor of Coahuila, and the commandant
at San Antonio, both of them intelligent men, saw without
uneasiness an occasional traveller from Natchitoches, or
Philip Nolan proposing to go to Orleans, Salcedo raved —
when he heard of such obliquity or carelessness. If they
had told him that the primate of Mont El Rey, the beloved
Bishop Don Dio Primerp, had pxfended his episcppaj yisita-
132 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

tion as far as Natchitoches, he would have been beside him-

self with indignation. " What devils should take the bishop
so far ? " And, when they told him that the bishop went to
fight the Devil, he expressed the wish that his holiness would
leave as devils as he could to harry those damnable
many
French and the more damnable Americanos beyond them.
Ah me if Don Salcedo had been permitted to live to see
!

the day, forty years later, when Sam Houston's men charged
on poor Santa Anna's lines at San Jacinto, screaming, " Re-
member the Alamo " he would have said that none of his
!

black portents were too black, and none of his prophecies

of evil gloomy enough. He would have said that he was
the Cassandra who could not Texas and
avert the future of
Coahuila.
De Nava had seen no danger in permitting poor Philip
Nolan to drive a few horses, more or less, across the frontier
of Texas into the king's colony of Louisiana. If the horses

had gone there at their own will, as doubtless thousands of

horses did yearly, quien sale ? and what harm ? If Philip

Nolan chose to come to San Antonio, and spend there a little

Orleans money in his outfit for such an expedition; if he
hired for good dollars a handful of Spanish hunters to go
with him, —
what harm ? said Don Pedro de Nava. And so
he gave Philip Nolan the passport and permission aforesaid.
But the authorities in the city of Mexico, and those in
the city of Madrid, did not know Philip Nolan, and did not
understand such reasoning. The only Philip they chose to
remember was that Most Gracious and Very
in the business
Catholic Philip, Lord of both Indies, who was good at burn-
ing heretics. It was certain that he would have had no
horse-hunting in his domains but by loyal. God-fearing sub-
jects of his own. And if De Nava and those lax and good-
natured men, the governors of the eastern provinces of
Coahuila and Texas, had assented to such heretical horse-
hunting, it was time for them to know who was master in
these deserts ; and the orders should proceed " from these
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 133

headquarters." And if that broken-down old fool Casa

Calvo, away in that bastard province of Louisiana, which
was neither one thing nor another, —
neither colony nor
foreign state, — if he chose to go to sleep while people invade
us, why, we must be all the more watchful
By some wretched accident, as we must suppose, some
account of Nolan's plans, enormously exaggerated, seems to
have come even to the city of Mexico. The traditions are
that Mordecai Richards, —
the same Richards whom we have
already introduced to our readers, —
after he had engaged in
Nolan's service, sent traitorous information to some Spanish
authority, of the plan of the expedition and of its probable
route. Be this as it may, Spanish governors of the suspicious
race were far too much excited then to receive such news with
satisfaction. Old John Adams's messages about the mouth of
the Mississippi * had not been very pacific. Everybody knew,
what everybody has long since forgotten, that he had half his
army on that stream, and fleets of flatboats at every post,
which were waiting only for the time when he should say
" Go," and his army would pounce upon Orleans. Nobody
could say at what moment European combinations might
make this step feasible, without the least danger that the
" Prince of Peace," the commander-in-chief of the armies
of King Charles, should strike any return blow. " Hunting
horses, forsooth !
" said Don Nemisio de Salcedo :
" are we
fools to have such stories told to us ? It is an army of these
giants of Kentuckianos ; they must be driven back before it is
too late." And poor Governor De Nava, unwillingly enough
had to " take the back track," and act as if he thought so
too.
His military force was not large. In times of absolute
peace, seeing no foreignarmy was within five hundred miles
of Chihuahua, the garrison of that city was usually not more
than two or three hundred men. But in this terrible exigency,
with the Kentuckianos mustering in force on his distant
1 Not Harrod's John Adams, but President John.
134 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

border, De Nava withheld every unnecessary band that

would otherwise have gone after Apaches or Comanches,
refused all leaves of absence and furloughs, made his most
of the loyalty of the military academy, and against poor Phil
Nolan, fearing nothing in his corral, was able to equip an
army of a hundred and fifty men.
Military men, whose judgment is second to none, assure
us that there was never better material for an army than the
Mexican soldier of that day. This force of dragoons were
all of them men who had seen service against the mounted

Indians. Each man had a little bag of parched corn meal

and sugar, the common equipage of the hunters of those
regions. Travellers of to-day, solicited in palace-cars to buy
sugared parched-corn, do not know, perhaps, that this is the
food of pioneers in front of Apaches. Besides this, a pater-
nal government provided good wheat biscuit and shaved dry
meat, which they ate with enormous quantities of red pepper.
With such outfit the troop would ride cheerily all day, taking
no meal excepting at the encampment at night and, if any;

man were hungry in the day, he bit a piece of biscuit, or

drank some water with his corn-meal and sugar stirred into it.
After orders and additional orders which need not be
named, the little army assembled in the square in front of the
cathedral. It was to march against the heretics that was
:

all they knew. A priest came out with holy water, to bless
the colors. Every man had been confessed ; and every man,
as he shook himself into his saddle, understood that, what-
ever befell, he had a very considerable abatement made from
the unpleasantness of purgatory, because he was on this holy
errand. As they were on special service, not against Indians
but whites, the lances which they carried on the prairies were
taken away. But every man had a carbine slung in front of
his saddle, a heavy horse-pistol on each side, and below the
carbine the shield, which was still in use, even in this century,
to ward off arrows. It was made of triple sole-leather. It
was round, and two feet in diameter. The officers carried
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 135

oval shields bending on both sides, and in elegant blazonry

displayed the arms of the king or of Spain, with other devices.
So that itwould have been easy to imagine that Fernando
del Soto had risen from his grave, and that this was a party
of the cavaliers of chivalry who were starting against poor
Nolan and his fifteen horse-hunters in buckskin.
The governor, with the officers of his staff, in full uniform,
had assisted at the sacred ceremonials in the church. The
men marched out and mounted. The governor, standing on
the steps of the cathedral, gave his hand to the commander
of the party.
" May God preserve you many years !
" he said.
"May God preserve your Excellency
!

" Death to the savage heretics " said the governor.

!

" Death to the invaders " said Col. Muzquiz, now in the
!

saddle. Then turning to his men, he waved his hand, and

Long live the king "
cried, " !

" Long live the king " they answered cheerily.

!

" Forward, march 1 " A hand kissed to a lady — and the

troop was gone I
136 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER XII.

" LOVE WAITS AND WEEPS."

" The stranger viewed the shore around :

'Twas all so close with copsewood bound,

Nor track nor pathway might declare
That human foot frequented there."
Lady of the Lake.

The camp which Harrod had formed on the Little

little

Brasses was not much more than a hundred miles below the
corral in which, some weeks later, Nolan wrote his merry
letter to the ladies. Now that farms and villages spot the
country between, —
nay, when it is even vexed by railroad
lines and telegraphs, —
now that this poor little story is per-
haps to be scanned even upon the spot by those familiar with
every locality, —
it is impossible to bear in mind that then

the region between was all untrodden even by savages, and

that, had Harrod and the ladies loitered at their camp till
Nolan arrived at his, they would still be as widely parted as
if they were living on two continents to-day.

The disappearance of poor little Inez was not noticed in

the camp till she had been away nearly an hour, indeed, —
just as the sun was going down. Harrod had told her that
he would join her on the knoll, and had hurried his necessary
inspection, that he might have the pleasure of sitting by her,
talking with her, and watching her at her work. But, when
he turned to walk up to her, he saw that she was no longer
there ; and, seeing also that the curtain in front of her tent
was closed, he supposed, without another thought, that she
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 137

had returned from the hillside, and was again in her tent
with Eunice. A little impatiently he walked to and fro,
watching the curtain door from time to time, in the hope
that she would appear. But, as the reader knows, she did
not appear. Yet it was not till her aunt came forth fresh
from a late siesta, in answer to Ransom's call to dinner, that
Harrod learned, to his dismay, that Inez was not with her.
If he felt an instant's anxiety, he concealed it. He only
said,
" How provoking have been waiting for her because
! I
she said she would make a
sketch from the knoll here ; and
now she must be at work somewhere all alone."
" She is a careless child," said Eunice, " to have gone
away from us into this evening air without her shawl. But
no she has taken that. Still she ought to be here."
:

But Harrod needed no quickening, and had already run

up the hill to call her.
Of course he did not find her. He did find the note-book
and the sketch-book, and the open box of colors. Anxious
now indeed, but very unwilling to make Eunice anxious, he
ran down to the water's edge, calling as loudly as he dared,
if he were not to be heard at the camp, but hearing no

answer. He came down to the very point where the cotton-

wood tree had fallen ; and he was too good a woodsman not
to notice at once the. fresh trail of the panther and the cubs.
He found as well tupelo leaves and bay leaves, which he felt
sure Inez had broken from their stems. Had the girl been
frightened by the beast, and lost herself above or below in
theswamp ?

Or had she, —
horrid thought, which he would not ac-
knowledge to himself ! —
had she ignorantly taken refuge on
the fallen cottonwood tree, —
the worst possible refuge she
could have chosen ? had she crept out upon It, and fallen
into the deep water of the bayou?
He would not permit himself to entertain a thought so
horrible. But he knew that a wretched half-hour nay, —
138 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

nearly an hour — had sped since he spoke with her; and

what worlds of misery can be crowded into an hour He !

ran out upon the tree, and found at once the traces of the
girl's lair there. He found the places where she had broken
the branches. He guessed, and guessed rightly, where she
had crouched. He found the very twig from which she had
twisted the bright tupelo. And he looked back through the
little vista to the shore, and could see how she saw the beasts

standing by the water. He imagined the whole position;

and he had only the wretched comfort, that, if she had fallen,
it must be that some rag of her clothing, or some bit of

broken branch below, would have told the tale. No such

token was there that is, it was not certain that she had
;

fallen, and given one scream of agony unheard before the

whole was over.
He must go back to camp, however unwillingly. He
studied the trail with such agony, even, as he had not felt
before. He followed down the side track which Inez had
followed for a dozen yards, but then was sure that he was
wasting precious daylight. He fairly ran back to camp, —
only careful to disturb by his footfall no trace which was
now upon weed or leaf ; and when he came near enough he
had to walk as if not too eager.
" Has she come home 1 " said he, with well-acted calmness.
" You have not found her ? Dear, dear child, where is
she ? " And in an instant Eunice's eagerness and Harrod's
was communicated to the whole camp. He showed the only
traces he had found. He told of the open color-box and
drawing-book ; and Eunice instantly supplied the clew which
Harrod had not held before.
" She went down to fill her water-bottle. Did you find that
there, —a little cup of porcelain ? "
No, Harrod had not seen that he knew he should have
:

seen it. And at this moment Ransom brought in all these

sad waifs, and the white cup was not among them. Harrod
begged the poor lady not to be distressed : the fire of a rifle
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 139

would call the girl in. But Eunice of course went with him ;
and then even her eye detected instantly what he had
refrained from describing to her, —
the heavy footprints of
the panther.
" What is that ? " she cried ; and Harrod had to tell her.
In an instant she leaped to his conclusion, that the child
had taken refuge somewhere from the fear of this beast
and in an instant more, knowing what she should have dene
herself, knowing how steady of head and how firm of foot
Inez was, she said, —
" She ran out on that Cottonwood tree, Mr. Harrod.
Look there, —
and there, —and there, — she broke the bark
away with her feet ! My child my child
! ! has she fallen into
"
the stream ?

Now it was Harrod's turn to explain that this was impossi-

[Link] confessed to the discovery of the tupelo leaves.
Inez had been on the log. But she had not fallen, he said,
lying stoutly. There was no such wreck of broken branches
as her fall would have made. And, before he was half
done, the suggestion had been enough. Two of the men
were in the water. It was deep, alas it was over their
!

heads. But the men had no fear. They went under again
and again ; they followed the stream down its sluggish cur-
rent. So far as their determined guess was worth any thing,
Inez's body was not there.
In the meanwhile every man of them had his theory. The
water terror held to Eunice, though she said nothing of it.
The men believed generally that those infernal Apaches had
been on their trail ever since they left the fort ; that they
wanted perhaps to regain White Hawk, or perhaps thought
they would take another prisoner in her place. This was
the first chance that had been open to them, and they had
pounced here. This was the theory which they freely com-
municated to each other and to Ransom. To Eunice in
person, when she spoke to one or another, in the hurried
preparations for a search, they kept up a steady and senseless
140 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

lie, such as it is the custom of ignorant men to utter to women

whom they would encourage. The girl had missed the turn
by the bay-trees or she had gone up the stream looking for
;

posies. It would not be fifteen minutes before they had her

" back to camp " again. Such were the honeyed words with
which they hoped to re-assure the agonized woman, even
while they charged their rifles, or fastened tighter their moc-
casons, as if for war. Of course she was not deceived for an
instant. For herself, while they would let her stay by the
water-side, she was pressing through one and another quag-
mire to the edge of the cove in different places. But at last,
as his several little parties of quest arranged themselves,
Harrod compelled her to return. As she turned up from the
stream, one of the negroes came up
wet from the water.
to her,
He gave her the little porcelain cup, which had lodged on a
tangle of sedge just below the cottonwood tree. Strange
that no one should have noticed it before !

Every instant thus far, as the reader knows, had been

wasted time. Perhaps was no one's fault,
it nay, certainly —
it was no one's fault, —
for every one had " done the best
his circumstance allowed." For all that, it had been all
wasted time. Had Harrod fired a rifle the moment he first
missed Inez, with half an hour of daylight still, and with the
certainty that she would have heard the shot, and could have
seen her way toward him, all would have been well. But
Harrod had, and should have had, the terror lest he should
alarm Eunice unduly ; and, in trying to save her, he really
lost his object. At the stream, again, minutes of daylight
passed quicker than any one could believe, in this scanning
of the trail, and plunging into the water. The shouts even —
the united shouts of the party — did not
tell on the night air

as the sharp crack of a would have done. Worst of all,

rifle

in losing daylight, they were losing every thing ; and this,

when it was too late, Harrod felt only too well.
Considering what he knew, and the impressions he was
under, his dispositions, which were prompt, were well planned
 OS, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 141

and soldierly. It is but though they were in

fair to say this,

fact wholly wrong. Yielding to the which he had

belief, for
only too good reason, that the Apaches were on the trail,
and had made a push to secure their captive again, Harrod
bade the best soldiers of his little party join him for a hasty
dash back on the great trail, in the hope that traces of them
might be found, and that they could be overtaken even
now, before it was wholly dark. One thing was certain, —
that, if they had pounced on their victim, they had turned
promptly. They had not been seen nor suspected at the
camp itself, by their trail.
Silently, and without Eunice's knowledge, he bade Richards
work southward, and Harry, the negro boy who had brought
in the water-bottle, work northward, along the edges of the
bayou. If there any thing
were — —
there, they must find it,
so long as light lasted. And they were to be in no haste to
return. " Do not let me see you before midnight. The moon
will be up by and by. Stay while you can see the hand
before your face."
He should have given rifles to both of them. Richards, in
fact, took his ; but the negro Harry, as was supposed in the
fond theory of those times, had never carried a gun, and he
went with no weapon of sound but his jolly "haw-haw-haw"
and his vigorous call. Once more here was a mistake.
Harry's rifle-shot, had he had any rifle to fire, would have
brought Inez in even then.
Meanwhile Ransom led Eunice back to the camp-fire and, ;

when his arrangements by the bayou were made, Harrod

hastily followed. His first question was for the White Hawk
but where she was, no one knew. Two of the men thought
she had been with Miss Perry; but this, Eunice denied.
Ransom was sure that she came to him, and pointed to the
sky, while he was carrying in the dinner. But Harrod
doubted this, and the old man's story was confused. Were
the girls together Had the same enemy pounced on both >
.?

Harrod tried to think so, and to make Eunice think so. But
142 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Eunice did not think so. She thought only of the broken
bit of tupelo, and of white cup which she still
this little
clutched in her hand. From the first moment Eunice had
known what would have happened to her, had that beast
driven her out over the water. And from the first moment
one thought, one question, had overwhelmed her, " What shall

I say to him, to tell him that I let his darling go, for one
"
instant, from my eye ?
Then Harrod told Ransom that he must stay with Miss
Eunice while they were gone.
Ransom said bluntly, that he would be hanged if he would :

Miss Inez was not far away, and he would find her before
the whole crew on 'em saw any thing on her.
But Harrod called him away from the throng.
" Ransom, listen to me," he said. " If Miss Perry is left
alone here, she will go crazy. If you leave her, there is no
one who can say one word to her all the time we are gone.
I hope and believe that we will have Miss Inez back before
an hour ; but all that hour she has got to sit by the fire here.
You do not mean to have me stay with her; and I am
sure you do not want me to leave her with one of those
"
' niggers,'
Harrod for once humored the old man, by adopting the
last word from his vocabulary.
"You're right, Mr. Harrod I'd better stay. 'N' I'll bet
;

ten dollars, now, Miss Inez'll be the first one to come in to

the fire, while you's lookin' after her. 'Tain't the fust time
I've known her oflf after dark alone."
" God " said Harrod ; and so the old man staid.
!
grant it

But Harrod had not revealed, either to Eunice or to Ran-

som, the ground for anxiety which had the most to do with
his determinations and dispositions. In the hasty examina-
tion of the trail which he made when he first searched for
the girl, and afterwards when he, with Richards and King —
better woodsmen than he —
examined the path which tliey
supposed the girl had taken, and the well-marked spot at the
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 143

shore of the bayou, where the beasts came to water, they had
found no print of Inez's foot ; but they had found perfectly
defined marks, which no effort had been made to conceal, of
an Indian's footprint. Harrod tried to think it was White
•

Hawk's, and pointed to Richards the smallness of the moc-

cason, and a certain peculiarity of tread which he said was
hers. Richards, on the other hand, believed that it was the
mark of an Indian boy whom he described ; that he had
been close behind Inez, and had been trying, only too suc-
cessfully, to obliterate every footstep. With more light, of
course, there might have been more chance- to follow these
indications ; but, where the regular trail of the brutes coming
to water had broken the bushes, they led up less successfully
and the indications all agreed, that, if the Apaches were to be'
found at all, it was by the prompt push which they were now
essaying.
They all sprang to saddle ; and even Harrod tried to give
cheerfulness which he did not feel, by crying, —
" They have more than an hour's start of us, and they will
ride like the wind. I will send back when I strike the trail ;
but you must not expect us before midnight." And so they
were gone.
Poor Eunice Perry sat alone by the camp-fire. Not two
hours ago she had congratulated herself, and had let Inez,
dear child, congratulate her, because, at the Brassos River,
more than half, and by far the worst half, of their bold
enterprise was over, — over, and well over. And now, one
wretched hour, in which she had been more careless than
she could believe, and all was night and horror. Could she
be the same living being that she was this afternoon?
She looked in the embers, and saw them fade away, almost
careless to renew the fire. What was there to renew it for ?
Ransom, with the true chivalry of genuine feeling, left her
wholly to herself for all this first agony of brooding. When
he appeared, it was to put dry wood on the coals.
" She'll be cold when she comes in. Night's cold. She
144 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

didn'tknow she'd be gone so long." This was in a soliloquy,

addressed only to the embers.
Then he turned bravely to Eunice, and, bringing up
another camp-stool close to where she sat, he placed upon it

the little silver which he usually kept hid away in his

salver,
own pack, where he reserved it for what he regarded as the
state occasions of the journey.
" Drink some claret, Miss Eunice good for you ; keep off
;

the night air. Some o' your brother's own private bin, what
he keeps for himself and ye mother, if come to see
she'd ever
him. I told him to give me the key when he went away
told him you might need some
o' the wine ; and he gin it to

me. Brought a few bottles along with me. Knew they

wouldn't be no good wine nowhere ef you should git chilled.
Told him to give me the key ; his own bin. Better drink
some, Miss Eunice."
He had warmed had mixed his sangaree as carefully
water,
as if they had all been at the plantation, had remembered
every fancy of Eunice's in concocting it, grating nutmeg
upon it from her own silver grater, which lay in his stores,
much as her brother's silver waiter did. And this was
brought to her in her silver cup, as she sat there in the
darkness in the wilderness, with her life darker than the
night. Eunice was wretched ; but, in her wretchedness, she
appreciated the faithful creature's care ; and, to please him,
she made an effort to drink something, and sat with the gob-
let in her hand.
" It
is very good, Ransom it is just what I want ; and
:

you are very kind to think of it."

Ransom leaned over to change the way in which the sticks
lay across the fire. Then he began again, —
" Jest like her mother, she is. Don't ye remember night
her mother scared us all jest so ? Got lost jest as Miss Inez
has, and ye brother was half crazy. No, ye don't remember
ye never see her. Ye brother was half crazy, he was. Her
mother got lost jest as Miss Inez has ; scared all on us jest
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 145

so. She's jest like her mother, Miss Inez is. I said so to
Mr. Harrod only yesterday."
Eunice was too dead to try to answer him ; and, without
answer, the old man went on in a moment, —
" We wos out on the plantation. It wos in the fall, jest as
it is now. It wos the fust year after ye brother bought this
place ; didn't have no such good place on the river before :

had the old place hired of Walker.

" After he bought this place, cos she liked it, two years —
afore this one was born, —
it wos in the fall, jest as it is

now " —
" I'd sent all the niggers to bed, I had, 'n wos jest lookin'
'round 'fore I locked up, w'en ye brother come up behind jpe,

white as a sheet, he was. '

Ransom,' says he, '
where's ye
missus ?

me awfully, he did. Miss Eunice. I didn't know

" Scared
more'n the dead where she wos ; 'n I said, says I, Isn't '

she in her own room ? ' —

Ransom,' says he, she isn't in
' '

any room house ; 'n none on 'em seen her,' says he,
in the
'
since she had a cup o' tea sent to her in the settin'-room,'
says he ; 'n it wasn't dark then,' says he.
'

" 'N none on 'em knew where she wos or where she'd

gone. Well, Miss Eunice, they all loved her, them darkeys
did, jest as these niggers, all on 'em, loves this one ; and,
w'en I went round to ask 'em where she wos, they run this
way an' that way, and none on 'em found her. 'N in an
hour she come in all right : got lostdown on the levee, —
went wrong way 'n got lost ; had been down to see how old
Chloe's baby was, 'n got lost comin' home. Wosn't scared
herself one bit, —
never was scared, wosn't scared at —
nothin'. Miss Inez just like her mother."
Now there was a long pause ; but Eunice did not want to
discourage him, though she knew he would not encourage
her.
" Tell me more about her mother. Ransom."
"Woll, Miss Eunice, ye know how handsome she wos.
146 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

That 'ere picter hangs in the salon ain't half handsome

enough for her. Painted in Paris it wos, fust time they went
over ain't half handsome enough for her.
: Miss Inez is
more like her, she is.
" She wos real good to 'em all, she wos, ma'am. She wos
quiet like, not like the French ladies ; 'n when they come
and see her, they knowed she wos more of a lady than they
wos, 'n they didn't care to see her much, 'n she didn't care
to see them much. But she wos good to 'em all. Wos good
to the niggers : all the niggers liked her.
"
Took on a good deal, and wos all broke down, when she
come from the Havannah to this place. Kissed this one,
Dglores here, that we's goin' to see, kissed her twenty —
times ; 'n Dolores says to me, says she, that's this one, —
she says, says she, in her funny Spanish way, Ransom, take '

care of her ev'ry day and ev'ry night ; 'n. Ransom, when you
bring her back to me,' says she, I'll give you a gold doub-
'

loon,' says she. 'N she laughed, 'n I laughed, 'n we made
this one laugh, —
Miss Inez's mother. She did not like to
come away, 'n took on a good deal."
Another pause, in ,which Ransom wistfully contemplated
the sky.
" Took her to ride myself, I did, ev'ry time, after this one
was born, — I did. Coachman didn't know nothin'. Poor
crittur, ye brother got rid on him afterward. No : he died.
I drove the kerridge myself, I did, after this one was bom.
She was dreadful pleased with her baby, cos it- wos a gal, 'n
she wanted a gal, 'n she took it to ride ev'ry day ; 'n she
says to me, Ransom,' says she, we must make this a Yankee
'
'

baby, like her father,' says she. She says, says she, Ransom, '

next spring,' says she, we will carry the baby to Boston,'

'

says she, 'n show 'em what nice babies we have down here
'

in Orleans,' says she. 'N she says to me, says she one day, •

when, she had had a bad turn o' coughin', Ransom,' says '

she, 'you'll take as nice care of her as ye do of me,' says she

'
won't you, Ransom ? ' says she.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 147

" And you said you would, Ransom, I'm sure," said Eunice
kindly, seeing that the old man would say no more.
" Guess I did, ma'am. She needn't said nbthin'. Never
thought o' doin' Knew none on 'em didn't
nothin' else.
know nothin' 'cept.-ye brother till you come down, ma'am.
It was a hard year, ma'am, before you come .down. Didn't
noneon 'em know nothin' 'cept ye brother."
Eunice was heard to say afterward that the implied compli-
ment in these words was the greatest praise she had ever
received from human lips ; but at the time she was too
wretched to be amused.
There was not now a long time to wait, however, before
they could hear the rattle of hoofs upon the road they had
been following all day.
It was Harrod's first messenger, the least competent negro
in his train. He had sent him back to relieve Eunice as far
as might be with this line, hurriedly written on a scrap of
brown paper :
—
" We have found the rascals' trail — very warm. I write this by their
own fire. H."

The man came upon the fire still blazing,

said that they
about three miles from camp. King and Adams and Capt.
Harrod dismounted, studied the trail by the light of burning
brands, and were satisfied that the camp had been made by
Indians, who had followed our travellers along on the trail,
and now had turned suddenly. King had said it was not a
large party ; and Capt. Harrod had only taken a moment
to write what he had sent to Miss Eunice, before they were
all in the saddle again and in pursuit.

So far, so good. And now must begin another desperate

pull at that wait-wait-wait, in which one's heart's blood drops
out most surely, if most slowly.

Old Ransom tended his fire more sedulously than ever,

and made it larger and larger.
" She'll be all chilled when she comes in," said he again,
148 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

by way of explanation. But this was not his only reason.

He bade Louis go down to the water's edge, and bring up to
him wet bark, and bits of floating wood. He sent the man
again and again on this errand ; and, as fast as his fire would
well bear it, he thrust the wet sticks into the embers and
under the logs. The column of steam, mingling with the
smoke, rose high into the murky sky ; and the light from the
blaze below gave to it ghastly forms, as it curled on one side
or the other in occasional puffs of wind.
Tired and heart-sick, Eunice lay back on her couch, with
her tent-door opened, and watched the wayward column.
Even in her agony some sickly remembrance of Eastern genii
came over her ; and she knew that the wretched wish passed
her, that she might wake up to find that this was all a phan-
tasm, a fairy tale, or a dream.
So another hour crawled by. Then came a sound of
crackling twigs j and poor Eunice sprang to her feet again,
only to meet the face of the negro Harry, returning from his
tour of duty. He had worked up the stream, as he had been
directed he had tried every access to the water.
; He said
he had screamed and called, and whooped, but heard nothing
but owls. The man was as fearless of the night or of loneli-
ness as any plantation slave used to the open sky. But he
had thought, and rightly enough, that his duty for the night
was at an end when he had made a tramp longer than was
possible to so frail a creature as Inez ; and came back only
to report failure. He was dragging with him a long bough
for the fire j and it was the grating of this upon the ground
which gave warning of his approach.
Nothing for it, Eunice, but to lie down again, and watch
that weird white column, and the black forms of the three
men hovering about it. Not a footfall, not even the sighing
of the trees : the night is sowould be
still ! It less weird
and terrible if any thing would cry aloud. But all nature
seems to be waiting too.
 OR, "SffOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 149

A halloo from Richards' —

who comes stalking in, cross,

wet, unsuccessful, and uncommunicative,

" No — see nothin'. Knew I shouldn't see nothin'. All
darned nonsense of the cappen's sending me thar. Told
him so w'en I started, that she hadn't gone that way, and I
knew it as well as he did. Fired my rifle ? Yes, fired every
charge I had. Didn't have but five, and fired 'em all. She
didn't hear 'em; no, cos she wasn't there to hear 'em.
Hain't you got a chaw of tobacco, Ransom ? or give a fellow
somethin' to drink. If you was as wet as I be, you'd think
you wanted sunthin " !

Wait on, Eunice, wait on. Go back to your lair, and lie
upon your couch. Do not listen to Richards's grumbling try :

to keep down these horrible imaginings of struggles in water,

of struggles with Indians, of faintness and death of cold.
" Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof."
Yes poor Eunice thinks all that out. " But is not this
:

moment the very moment when my darling is dying, and I

lying powerless here ? Why did I not go with them ? "
" Too-oo —
too-00 " —
" Is that an owl ?
" Hanged if it's an owl. Hark " !

" Whoo —
whoo —
whoo —
whoo," repeated rapidly twenty
times; and then again, "Whoo whoo —
whoo —
whoo," —
twenty times more, as rapidly.
Ransom seized his gun, fired it in the air, and ran toward
the sound. Eunice followed him, gazing out into the
night.
"Whoo — whoo — whoo — whoo," more slowly; and then
Ransom's, " Hurrah ! All right, ma'am. She's here," through
the darkness.
And then, in one glad minute more, he had brought Inez
in his arms ; and her arms were around her aunt's neck, as
if nothing on earth should ever part them more.
The White Hawk had brought her in.
150 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

And now the White Hawk dragged her to the fire, pulled
off the moccasons that were on her feet, and began chafing
her feet, ankles, and legs, while Ransom was trying to make
her drink, and Eunice kneeling, oh so happy in her anxiety,
!

at the poor girl's side.

 ox, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 151

CHAPTER XIII.

NIGHT AND DAY.

" The camp affords the hospitable rite,

And pleased they sleep (the blessing of the mght)

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn,
Again they mount, the journey to renew." — Odyssey,
With the first Ransom bade Harry
instant of relief, old
saddle the bay mare, which Ransom had never before been
known to trust to any human being but himself. With an
eager intensity which we need not try to set down in words,
he bade him push the mare to her best, till he had overtaken
the captain, and told him the lost was found.
Meanwhile poor little Inez was only able to speak in little
loving ejaculations to her aunt, to soothe her, and to cry with
her, to be cried with, and to be soothed.
" Dear auntie, dear auntie, where did you think I was ? "
and, —
" My darling, my darling, how could I lose sight of you ?

And the White Hawk —

happy, strong, cheerful, and loving
— was the one " effective " of the three.
But Ransom had not chosen wrongly in his prevision for
her return. " Knew ye'd be cold w'en ye come in. Miss
Inez ; knew ye warn't drowned, and warn't gone far." He
had a buffalo-skin hanging warming, ready for her to lie
upon. He brought a camp-stool for her head to rest upon,
as she looked into the embers. And when Eunice was satis-
fied at last that no hair of her darling's head was hurt j when
152 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

she saw her fairly sipping and enjoying Ransom's jorum of

claret ; when he brought in triumph soup which he
at last
had in waiting somewhere, and the girl owned she was hun-
gry, —
why, then Eunice as she lay at her side, and fed her
and fondled her, was perhaps the happiest creature, at that
moment, in the world.
And when words came and rational questions and
at last,
answers, Inez could which the reader does not
tell but little

already know ; nor could they then learn much more from
White Hawk, with language so limited as was theirs.
" Panther ? yes, horrid brute I have seemed to see him
!

all night since. When it was darkest, I wondered if I did

not see the yellow of those dreadful eyes.
" Apaches ? No, I saw no Indians, nor thought of them ;

only my Ma-ry here ; " and she turned to fondle the

darling '
'

proud girl, who knew that she was to be fondled. " O Ma-ry,
my sweetheart, how I wish you knew what I am saying !

Why, Eunice, when I thought it was my last prayer, when I

asked the good God to comfort you and dear papa," here —
her voice choked, —
"I could not help praying for dear
'
Ma-ry.' I could not help thinking of her poor mother, and
the agony in which she carried this child along. And then,
why, Eunice, it was not long after, that all of a sudden I was
lying in her arms, and she was cooing to me and rubbing me
and I thought for a moment I was in bed at home, and it
was you ; and then I remembered again. And, dear auntie,
what a blessing it was to know I was not alone !

In truth, the brave girl had held resolute to her purpose.

She would save her voice till, at the end of every fifty sentry
turns, she would stojD and give her war-whoop and other
alarm-cry. Then she would keep herself awake by walking,
walking, walking, though she were almost dead, till she had
made fifty turns more ; and then she would stop and scream
again. How often she had done this, she did not know
Eunice could guess better than she. Nor did she know how
itended. She must have stumbled and fallen. She knew
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 153

she walked at last very clumsily and heavily: all else she
knew was, as she said, that she came to herself lying on the
ground, while White Hawk was rubbing her hands, and then
her feet, and that White Hawk would say little tender things
to her, — would say, " Ma-ry,"
and would stop in her rubbing
to kiss her ; White Hawk pulled off those horrid
then, that
wet stockings and moccasons which she had been tramping in,
and took from her own bosom a pair dry and strong, -^ " oh,
how good it felt, auntie " ! —
and then, that White Hawk
made her rest on her shoulder, and walk with her a little, till
she thought she was tired, and then sat down with her, and
would rub her, and talk to her again.
"
" How in the world did she know the way ?
" Heaven knows ! She would stop and listen : she would
put her ear to the ground, and listen. At last she made me
sit at the foot of a tree, while she climbed like a squirrel,
auntie, to the very top ; and then she came down, and she
pointed, and after she pointed she worked always this way.
She made this sign, auntie ; and this must be the sign for
'fire.'"
The girl brought her hands near her breast, half shut, till

they touched each other, and then moved them quickly out-
ward. Both of them turned to White Hawk, who was listen-
; and they pointed to the embers, as Inez renewed
ing carefully
the sign. White Hawk nodded and smiled, but repeated it,
extending her fingers, and separating her hands, as if in
parody of the waving of flame. This part of the gesture
poor Inez had not seen in the darkness.
From the moment White Hawk had seen Ransom's white
and rosy column of smoke, it had been a mere question of
time. By every loving art, she had made the way easy for
her charge. She would have lifted her, had Inez permitted.
" But, auntie, I could have walked miles. I was strong as a

lion then."
Lion or lamb, after she was roasted as a jubilee ox might
have been, she said, her two nurses dragged her to her tent
and to bed.
154 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" It is I ought to thank dear Capt.

too bad, auntie !

Harrod, and all Such a goose as to turn night into

of them.
"
day, and send them riding over the world !

All the same they undressed her, and put her to bed ; and
such is youth in its omnipotence, whether to act, to suffer, or
to sleep, that in five minutes the dear child was unconscious
of cold, of darkness, or of terror.
And Eunice did her best to resist the reaction which crept
over her, oh, so sweetly ! after her hours of terror. But she
would start again and again, as she lay upon her couch. One
instant she said to herself, —
" Oh, yes, I am quite awake I never was more wakeful.
!

But what has happened to them ? Will they never be here ?

And the next instant she would be bowing to the First
Consul, as Mr. Perry presented her as his sister, and renewed
his old acquaintance with Mme. Josephine, once Beauharnais.
Then she would start up from her couch, and walk out to the
fire, and Ransom would advise her to go back to her tent. At
last, however, just when he, good fellow would have had it !

(for his preparation of creature comforts for the scouting

party was made on a larger scale, if on a coarser, than those
for Miss Inez), the welcome tramp of rapid hoofs was heard
and in five minutes more Harrod swung himself from the
saddla by the watch-fire, and was eagerly asking her for news.
For himself, he had but little to tell. Since all was well
at home, it would wait till breakfast.
" What have you got for us now. Ransom ? a little whiskey ?
Yes, that's enough ; that's enough. The others are just
behind."
Then, turning to Eunice, —
"Yes, Miss Perry. All is well that ends well. I have
said that to myself and aloud for this hour's gallop. —
Ransom Ransom don't let those fools take her to water.
! !

Make Louis rub her dry. —

Yes, Miss Perry, we found the
rascals' fire. God forgive me for calling them rascals They !

are saints in white, for all I know. But really, — this whiskey
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 155

does go to the right place —

but really, when you have been
!

trying to ride down a crew of pirates for a couple of hours, it

is hard to turn round and believe they were honest men.
" Yes, we found their fire ; and, if I ever thanked God, it

was then, Miss Perry. Though why, if they were after the
girls, why they should have built a fire just there by that little
wet prairie, I could not tell myself. Still there was the fire.
Up till moment. Miss Eunice,
that up till — that moment, —
I believed she was stark and dead under the water of the
bayou. I may as well tell you so now," and he choked as
he said it; ancj she pressed his hand, as if she would say she
had been as sure of this as he.
" Yes, I thought that the painter there, or the Indians, or
both together, had driven her out on that infernal cotton-
wood log —
I beg your pardon, Miss Eunice I am sure the :

log has done me no harm ; but I thought we were never to

see her dear face again." And he
stopped, and wiped the
tears from his eyes with theback of his hand.
" So I thanked God when I saw their fire, because that
confirmed what all the rest of them said. And we got off
our horses, and we could see the trail was warm they went :

off in a hurry. Why they did not put their

did not fire out, I

know, more than why they lighted it.

" If we could have made a stern chase, as Ransom would
say, we would have overhauled them soon ; but this I did
not dare. King knew from what he saw this morning how
to take us round the edge of that wet prairie, by a trail —
they had followed by mistake then ; and he said we could
head them as they travelled, at the sloo where we lunched, if
you remember. For we could see that they had one lame
mule at least. They seemed to have but few beasts any
way J and of course none of them was a match for Bet there,
or for that Crow, the bay that King rides. So I took him
with me, told the others to keep the main trail slowly ; and
sure enough, in an hour, more or less, King had me just
where you and Miss Inez lay under that red-oak to-day.
iS6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"And there we waited and waited; not long, not long.

We could hear them grunting and paddling along, and beat-
ing the mule, till I stepped out, and struck an old fellow over
the shoulder, and cocked my pistol. They do not know
much, but they knew what that meant. They all stopped
meek as mice, for they thought I was an army.
" But, good heavens there were but four of them ; three
!

old men and a squaw, and these four miserable brutes. It

was no war-party, that was clear. I could have talked to
them if it were daylight ; but now it was as much as ever I
could see them, or they me. King understood none of their
gibberish, nor I. I hoped perhaps Adams might; mean-

while I tied the old fellow hand and foot he did not resist,
:

none of them resisted. In a minute the others came up ; and

then we struck a light, and, after some trouble, made a fire.
" Then, when we could see, I began to talk to them in
gestures ; and now I can afford to laugh at it : then I was
too anxious and too mad.
" I went at the old man. You should have seen me. He
said he could not answer because his hands were tied, which
was reasonable. So I untied him, but told him I would blow
his brains out if he tried to run away. At least, I thiixk he
knew I would.
" I asked him where the girls were.
" He said we had them with us.
" I told him he lied.
" He said I did.
" I asked him again where they were, and threatened him
with the pistol.
" He said he knew nothing of the girl with the long feather,
since she sat there with her back to the oak-tree, and mended
the lacing of her shoe.
" Only Miss Eunice, how the dogs watch us
think.
" As for White Hawk, he said he sold her to Father
Andres for the lame mule he had been riding, and that he
supposed Father Andrds sold her to me ; that he had not
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 157

seen her since I and White Hawk went

mounted you ladies,
on in advance. He and picked up what
said they staid
dinner the men had left, and ate it, as they had every day.
" I asked him why he left his fire. He said they #ere
frightened. They knew we were in the saddle, and they
were afraid, because they had stolen the blacksmith's ham-
mer and the ham-bones so they mounted and fled.
:

" Well, you know, I thought this was an Indian's lie, a —

lie all full of truth. I told him so. I took him, and tied him
to a tree, and I tied the other man and the big boy. The
woman I did not tie Miss Eunice, applaud me for that. I
:

believe you have a tender heart to the redskins j and I deter-

mined to wait till morning. But in half an hour I heard the
rattle of the mare's heels, and up came Harry to say that all
was well."
" And all's well that ends well."
" Yes, Ransom : no matter what it is. I did not know I
should ever feel hungry again.
" But, dear Miss Perry,how thoughtless I am For the !

love of Heaven, pray go into your tent, and go to sleep.

How can we be grateful enough that she is safe ?
Then he called her back.
" Stop one moment. Miss Perry we are very near each
:

other now. What may happen before morning, none of us

kno"w. I must say to you, therefore, now, what but for this
I suppose I should not have dared to say to you, that she is —
dearer to me than my life. If we had not found her, oh.
Miss Perry, I should have died I would have tried to do
!

my duty by you, indeed; but my heart would have been

broken.
"Yes. I knew how eager you were, and how wretched.
Pray understand that my wretchedness and my loss would
have been the same as yours. Good-night God bless her !

and you !

A revelation so abrupt startled Eunice, if it did not wholly

surprise her. But she was too completely exhausted by her
158 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

excitements of every kind even to try to think, or to try to

answer. She did not so much as spealc, as he turned away,
and only bade him good-by by her kindly look and smile.
Irwas late when they met at breakfast. Harrod would
gladly have permitted a day's halt after the fatigues of the
night, but not here. They must make a part of the day's
march ; and already all of the train which could be prepared
was ready for a start. Inez appeared even later than the
others; but she was ready dressed for travelling. The
White Hawk welcomed her as fondly and proudly as if she
were her mother, and had gained some right of property in
Jier. Eunice was so fond and so happy, and Harrod said
frankly that he did not dare to tell her how happy the good
news made him when it came to him.
" Woe's me," said poor Inez, hardly able to keep from cry-
ing. " Woe's me, that, because I was a fool, brave men have
had to ride, and fair women to watch You need none of
!

you be afraid that I shall ever stray two inches from home
again."
But, as she ate, Harrod drew from her, bit by bit, her own
account of her wanderings.
" And to think," said he, " that this girl here knows how to
follow a trail and finds one that I have lost
better than I do,
I believe the flowers rise under your tread, Miss Inez ; for on
the soft ground yonder by the lick we could not find your
"
foot-tread. Could it have been hers that frightened me so ?
Then he told her how they were sure they caught the traces
of an Indian boy, and thought he had been stepping with his
feet turned outward in her footprints.
" And pray what did you think I wore, captain ? I had
taken off my shoes, and I was walking in the moccasons the
Senora Trevino gave me at Nacogdoches."
" And I did not know your footfall when I saw it. I will
never call myself a woodsman again " !
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 159

CHAPTER XIV.

A PACKET OF LETTERS.

" I warrant he hath a thousand of these letters."

Merry Wives of Windsor,

But it is time that the reader should welcome the party of

travellers, no longer enthusiastic about camp-life, to the
hospitalities — wholly unlike any thing Inez had ever seen
before — of San Antonio de Bexar.
The welcome of her dear aunt, of Major Barelo, — who
held the rank of alfarer, which in these pages will be trans-
lated " major," — indeed, one may say, of all the gentlemen
and ladies of the garrison, had been most cordial. The
energy of the march made it a matter of nine days' wonder ;

and the young Spanish gentlemen thanked all gods and

goddesses for the courage which had brought, by an adven-
ture so bold, such charming additions to the circle of their
society. Donna Maria Dolores was not disappointed in her
niece; nor was she nearly so much terrified by this wild
American sister-in-law as she had expected and Inez found ;

her aunt, ah ten times more lovely than she had dared to
!

suppose.
But the impressions of both ladies will be best given by
the transcript of three of their letters, — which have escaped
the paper-mills of three-quarters of a century, — written
about a week after their arrival. True, these letters were
written with a painful uncertainty lest they were to be in-

spected by some Spanish official. They were severely guarded,

i6o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

therefore, in any thing which might convict Nolan or Harrod,

or their humbler adherents. For the rest, they describe the
position of the ladies sufficiently.

Inez Perry to her Father.

In my own Room, San Antonio de Bexar,
Nov. 26, 1800.

Dear, dear Papa, —

Can you believe it ? We are really here. See,
I virrite you in my own room, which dear. Aunt Dolores has arranged for
me just as kindly as can be. I would not for the world tell her how
funny it all is to me ; for she has done every thing to make it French or
American, or to please what are supposed to be my whims. But, if you
saw it, you would laugh so, papa and so would Roland, if he is any thing
!

like you.
I shall write Roland a letter, and it will go in the same cover with
this. But he must not cry, as you used to say to me, if I write to you
first of all.

I have kept my journal very faithfully, as I said I would ; and some

day you shall see it. But not now, dear papa ; for the general Herrara, —
—
you know is very kind to let this go at all, and it must be the smallest
letter that I know how to make, and Roland's too.
I think you were wholly right about the journey, dear papa and if we ;

had it to do over again you would think that this was the way to do it, if
you knew all that we have seen and all that we have enjoyed, and even
if you knew all the inconveniences. It has been just as you said, that I
have learned ever so many things which I should never have learned in any
other way, and seen ever so much that I should never have seen in
any other way. Dear papa, if you will keep it secret, and not tell Roland,
— for I am dreadfully afraid of Roland, you know, —
I will tell you that

I do not think that I am near so much of a goose as I was when I left

home. I hope you would say that your little girl is rather more of a
woman. And I am as well, papa, as I can be. Eunice says I have gained
flesh. We cannot find out, though we were all weighed yesterday in the
great scales in the warehouse. But they weigh with fanegas and all sorts
of things ; and nobody seems to know what they mean in good honest
livres. I know I am stouter, because of the dresses, you know. There,
pray do not read that to Roland.
Aunt Eunice is writing, and she will tell you all the business, the —
important business of the journey. She will explain why we changed
the plans, and how it all happened. I know you will be very sorry that
we had not Capt. P. all the way. I am sure I was. He was just as nice
as ever, and as good as gold to me. If Roland is to be a soldier, I hope
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." i6i

he be just such a soldier. But then, I hope Roland is not to be a

will
soldier. I hope he is to come home to me some day. Aunt Eunice will
tell yon whom we had to escort us instead of Capt. P. When you come
home you will know how to thank him for his care of us. I only wish I
knew when we are to see him or the captain again. Papa, if you or Ro-
land had been with us, I do not think there was one thing you could have
thought of which he did not think of and do, so bravely and so pleasantly
and so tenderly. I knew he had sisters, and he said he had. I can
always tell. I only hope they know that it is not every girl has such
brothers. I have ; but there are not many girls that do. Why, papa,
the night I was lost, he — there 1 I did not mean
to tell you one word of
my being lost, but it slipped out from the pen. That night he was in the
saddle half the night, hunting for me. Perhaps you say that was of
course. And he tied up some Indians that he thought knew about me.
Perhaps that was of course too. But what was not of course was this :
that from that moment to this moment, he never said I was a fool, as I
was. He never said if I had done this or that, it would have been better.
He was perfectly lovely and gentlemanly about it all, always papa, he :

was just like you. I wish I knew when we should see him again. He left
yesterday, with only three men, to join the captain. I wish we could see
him soon. When we are all at home again, in dear, dear Orleans, I shall
coax you to let me ask his sister to spend the winter with us. There are
two of them one is named Marion,
: —
really after the Swamp-Fox, papa,
— and the other is named Jane. Jane is the oldest^ Is not Marion a
pretty name ? :
.

But, papa, though there want to tell you

is only this scrap left, I
earnestly how much I want to take Ma-ry with us when you come home ;
how much I love her, and how necessary it is that she shall not stay
here. Aunt Eunice says she will explain it all, and who Ma-ry is, and
why I write her name so. She will tell you why it is so necessary as I
say. But, dear papa, only I can tell you how much, how very much, I want
her. You see, I have a sister now, and I do not want to lose her. And,
papa, this is not the coaxing of a little girl : this is the real earnest wish
of your own Inez, now she has seen things as a woman sees them. Do
not laugh at that, dear papa ; but think of it carefully when you have
read dear auntie's letter, and think how you can manage to let me have
Ma-ry till she finds her own home. Oh, dear what will happen to me
!

when she finds it ?

Oh papa why is not this sheet bigger ? It was the biggest they had.
!

Ever so much love to Roland, and all to you.

From your own little Inez.

Silas Periy read this letter aloud to his soldier-son, as they

l62 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

sat together in their comfortable lodgings in Passy. And

then Roland said, " Now let me try and see how much the
little witch explains to me of these mysteries. It is just as
she says : she is afraid of me without wanting to be, and we
shall find the words are longer, though I am afraid the letter
will be shorter. We will fix all that up when I have been a
week on the plantation."

Inez Perry to Roland Perry.

San Antonio de Bexar, Nov. 27, 1800.

My dear Brother, — You have not the slightest idea what sort of a
place a Spanish city is, though you have been the subject of our gracious

and Catholic king ten years longer than I have. There are many beauti-
ful situations here, and some of the public edifices are as fine any we have
in Orleans ; but it is the strangest place I ever saw.

" That is curious," said Roland, stopping to keep his cigar

alive, " as she never saw any other place but Orleans. You
see that I have the dignified letter, as I said. I shall be
jealous of you if it keeps on so."
Then he continued his reading :
—
We have had a beautiful journey through a very interesting country.
I am sure you would have enjoyedit ; and as we spent three days at
Nacogdoches, which is a garrison town, perhaps it would have been
instructive in your profession. But perhaps a French military student
does not think much of Spanish officers. All I can say is, -we saw some
very nice, gentlemanly men there, who danced very well ; and we saw
those horrid dances, the Fandango and Bolero.
All the escorts say that we had a very fortunate journey across the
wood-country and the prairies. I am told here that I have borne the
fatigue very well. There was not a great deal of fatigue, though some-
times I was very tired. One night there was a Norther, so Mons. —
Philippe called it

" Does she mean Nolan, by '

Mons. Philippe ? '
" said
Roland, stopping himself again. " I thought she said Nolan
was not with them. There's a blot here, where she wrote
something else at first. Can the man have two names ?
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 163

So Mons, Philippe calls it, but the people here pall it CariUnera.
What a terrible tempest from the north, which tears every thing to
it is is

pieces, and is terribly cold. We were so cold that we needed all our
wraps to make us comfortable, and Ransom had to build up the tire again.
I am sure I shall enjoy my visit here. My aunt and Major Barelo are
as kind as possible ; and all the ladies in the garrison have been very
and attentive. But ho\ir glad I
thouglitf ul shall be to come home again,
and meet you and papa !

Dear Roland, do not go into the army.

"What is this ? Something more scratched out? " But he

held it to the light.

There is fighting enough to be done here.

" That "

is what Miss Een thinks, is it ?

"But she did not dare trust that to the post-office in

Mexico. That is a prudent girl."
" Is that all ? " said his father.
" Yes, all but this " : —
Dear Roland, I do want to see you, and I love you always.
Truly yours, Inez.

" I call that a nice

letter, sir ; and, on the whole, I will not

change with you. Of course she has changed a hundred

times as much as I have, and I cannot make out that she is
any thing but a baby. Dear Aunt Eunice will fill all blanks."
/
Eunice Perry to Silas Perry.
San Antonio de Bexar, Nov. 26, 1800.

My dear Brother, — We are safe here, and have a most cordial

welcome. Having no chance to write by Orleans, I send this, through
Gen. Herrara's kindness, by the City of Mexico, whence there is a
despatch-bag to some port in Europe.

" Roland, she thinks the letters were to be examined on

their way, and I believe this has been."
" I am certain mine has been, sir. Here is the mark which
shows what was copied from mine in some Mexican office, —
this that poor little Een tried to scratch out, about fighting."
1 64 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" Much good may it do them " said !

his father, and con-
tinued reading his sister's letter aloud :
—
Inez has borne her journey famously. Indeed, when we were well
started, and were once used to the saddle, it was tedious, but nothing more.
She lost herself one night, and frightened me horribly ; but no harm came
of it. As for Indians, we saw but few. From the first post the Spanish
officers furnished us escorts of troops on their return to this garrison.
Perhaps that frightened away the Indians, as it certainly did los Ameri-
canos.

" ' As it certainly did los Americanos.' Roland, Phil

Nolan found that his room was better than his company.
He would never have left them if it were not better for
them that he should leave. Eunice knew these letters were
to be opened, and she has written for more eyes than mine."

When you see Mons. Philippe, you must express what I have tried to
tell, — how much we value his constant and kind attention.

" Who the dickens isMons. Philippe ? That I shall learn

when the '
Hamilton '
comes in."

We have brought with us a charming girl, who makes a dear com-

panion for Inez, being, I suppose, about her age. She is an American
girl, whom a Spanish priest found among the Apaches, and bought of

them. From the first moment the two girls fancied each other, though
at first neither could understand the other's language. But now Mary
has learned a great deal of English and a little Spanish, and dear little

Inez is quite glib in Apache ! The girl's name is Mary ; she calls it

Ma-ry, as if it were two words ; it is the only word she remembers which
her mother taught her.
Inez wants to take her home ; and, unless I hear from you that you
object, I shall agree to this, unless some other arrangement is made for
sending her East. Donna Dolores agrees : the garrison is not a very
good place for her.
To tell you the truth, the regular lessons which Inez gives her, and
the reading which the dear girl undertakes in books you bade her read,
keeps them out of mischief for two or three hours every day. The ladies
here do so little, and have so little to do in this dull Moor-like life, that
this seems strange to them. But I encourage them both in it. They
ride a good deal under dear old Ransom's escort; and sometimes he
drives them out in one of these solemn old carriages which I believe were
inherited direct from Cortez.
 OR, "SffOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 165

This is an interesting place, such as I suppose you have often seen,

but as different from a French city, or from our French city, do not —
let Roland laugh at me, —
as that is from Squam Bay. Oh, do not think
that we will be homesick here. Donna Dolores is all that you described
her to be, and as happy in her new plaything as she hoped to be, and
deserved to be. She persuades herself that she sees Inez's mother's face
in hers, sometimes startled by a tone of her voice. She delights
and is

the dear child, as you may suppose. There are several ladies here who
are accomplished and agreeable. I do not know but you have heard the
major speak of the families of Garcia, of Gonzales, and Trevino. Col.
Treviiio is now at Nacogdoches he was very civil to us.
:

—
We have found two governors here, fortunately for us, for I be-
lieve neither of them strictly belongs here. Gen. Herrara is, as you
know, a remarkable man we are great friends. His wife is an- English
:

lady whom he married at Cadiz, and it is a great pleasure to me to see so

much of her. He was in Philadelphia when Gen. Washington was pres-
ident, and spoke to me at once of him. Of course we have been firm
friends ever since that. He is governor, not of this province, but of New
Leon, our next neighbor, and is very much beloved there. I hardly know
why he resides so much here. Gov. Cordero, whose real seat of govern-
ment is Monte Clovez, is here a great deal, — for military reasons, I
suppose. He is a bachelor : the more is He is Spanish by
the pity.
birth, and every inch a soldier. Gov. Elquezebal you will remember.
Young Walker is here from the military school. You remember his
mother. He came at once to see me.
But my paper is at an end, and I must let my pen run no longer. Give
much love to my dear Roland. This letter is his as much as yours.
Always your own loving sister,
Eunice Perry.

"Gov. Cordero is there for military reasons, Roland, and

Gen. Herrara is there also. What military reasons but that
President John Adams has stirred up the magnificoes a little ?
But if I have sent our doves into a hawk's nest, Roland, I do
not know how we are to get them out again."
" It is one comfort," he added, after a pause, " that there
will be a good strip of land and water between Gen. Herrara
and Gen. Wilkinson."
And the father and son resumed their cigars, and sat in

silence.
What Silas Perry meant by " a good thick strip," will ap-
l66 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

pear from his own letter to Eunice,which shall be printed in

the next chapter. He had written it as soon as possible
after his arrival in Paris. It had crossed her letter on the
ocean. Written under cover to his own house in Orleans,
and sent by his own vessel, it spoke without hesitation on
the topics, all-important, of which he wrote.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 167

CHAPTER XV.

COURTS AND CAMPS,

Well loved that splendid monarch aye

The banquet and the song,
The merry dance, traced fast and light,
The maskers quaint, the pageant bright,
The revel loud and long.
Here to the harp did minstrels sing
There others touched a softer string
While some, in close recess apart,
Courted the ladies of their heart.
Nor courted them in vain. — Marmitm,
Our little history draws again upon these yellow files of
ancient letters.
Silas Perry to Eunice Perry.
Passy, near Paris, Nov. 16, 1800.

My dear Sister, — We have had a wonderful run. Look at the

date, and wonder, when you know that I have been here a week. I have
good news for you in every way. First, that our dear boy is well, —
strong, manly, gentlemanly, ^and not unwilling to come home. He
thought I should not know him in his cadet uniform, as he stood waiting
for me in the court -yard where Hae post-chaise brought me. But, Lord! I
should have known him in a million. Yet he is stronger, stouter, has
the air militaire wonderfully ; and they do not wear their hair as our
officers do. This is my first great news. The second you would read in
the gazettes, if you were not sure to read this first. It is, that Franee
and America are firm friends again no more captures at sea, no more
:

mock war. This First Consul knows what he is about. He told his
brother Joseph what to do, and he did it. On the 30th of September the
treaty was signed: the right of search is all settled, and commerce is
to be free on both sides. Had I known this on the 30th of September, I
might not have come. For all that, I am glad I am here.
l68 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Third bit of news ; and this is " secret of secrets," as our dear mother
would have said. You may tell Inez ; but swear her to secrecy. I have
only told Turner and Pollock. We are no longer Spanish subjects ! We
are French citizens,— citizens and citizenesses of the indivisible French
Republic. Perhaps I do not translate citoyennes right ; but that is what
you and Inez are. Is not that news ?
I only knew this last night. There are not ten men in Paris who
know it. But, by a secret article in a treaty made in Spain last month,
this imbecile King of Spain has given all Louisiana back to France.
There does not that make your hair stand on end ?
!

Of course, dear Eunice, if there should be any breath of war between

the two countries, your visit must end at once. Heaven knows when you
will hear from me ; but act promptly. Do not be caught among those
Mexicans when the Dons are fighting the Monsieurs. But I think there
will be no war before we are well home. When war comes I am glad we
are on the side that always wins.
Roland will tell you in his letter, in what scene of vanity I picked up
my information. If I can I shall add more ; but I must now sign myself.
Your affectionate brother,
Silas Perry.

Roland Perry to Inez Perry.

Passy, near Paris, Nov. i6, iSoo.

Dear little Sister, — Father has left me his letter to read and
seal, and has bidden me give you all the particulars of his triumphs at
court. I tell him that nobody has made such an impression as he, since
Ben .Franklin. It has all been very droll ; and, when I see you, I can
make you understand it better than I can write it. To be brief, papa is
what they call here " un grand succis."
He says, and you say, that I have not written enough about how I
spend my time. I can see that he is surprised at knowing the chances I
have for good society. But it has all come about simply enough. When
I came here, M. Beauharnais, as you know, welcomed me as cordially as
a man could ; and, when there was an off-day at school, they made me at
home there. Just as soon as Eugene entered at the Polytechnic —
well,
I knew the ways a little better than he did. As dear old Ransom used
to say, " I had the hang of the schoolhouse." Any way, he took to me,
and I was always glad to help the boy. You see, they called him an
American, because of his father and mother so, as the senior American
:

in VEcole, I had to thrash one or two fellows who were hard upon him.
Now that he is one of the young heroes of Egypt, I have reason to
be proud of my protigl. I only wish I had gone with them. Well, if
I have not told you of every call I have made there, —
I mean at his
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 169

mother's, —because it has been quite a matter of course in my life.

it is

When Eugine and the general were both away, there were many reasons
why I should be glad to be of service to her ; and she has never forgotten
them.
Well, I told him that his first visit must be to Mme.
when papa came,
Buonaparte Malmaison ; and he must thank her, if he meant to thank
at
any one, for my happy life here. You know how papa would act. He
said he was not going to pay court to First Consuls, and put on court
dresses. Some fool had told him great lies about the state at Malmaison.
I told him, if I know how to take my own father
did not to see a friend
of mine, I did not know any thing. He was very funny. He asked if he
need be powdered. I told him. No. I told him to put on his best
liot

. coat, and go as [Link] go to a wedding at Squam Bay.

Inez, he was very handsome. He was perfectly dressed, you know —
he would be, —
and his hair, which is the least bit more gray than I
remember it, was very distingul in the midst of all those heads of white
powder. We drove out to Malmaison, and I can tell you we had a
lovely time. I was as proud as I could be. There is not much fuss
there, ever, about getting in ; and with me, —
well, they all know me, you
know, —and the old ones have, since I was a boy. By good luck, Madame
was alone (you know we say Madame now, without having our heads cut
off). She was alone, and I presented papa. She was so pleased Inez,!

I cannot tell you how pleased she was. You see, she does not often see
people of sense, who have any knowledge of the islands, or of her father
and mother, or her husband's friends. Then it was clear enough, in two
minutes, that papa must have been of real service to Major Beauharnais
and to her, which he had never told me of. He lent her money, perhaps,
when she was poor, —
or something. My dear Inez, she treated papa
with a sort of welcome I have never seen her give to any human being.
Well, right in the midst of this, who should come in but the Gen.
Buonaparte himself, the First Consul, boots muddy, and face all alive
He had ridden out from the Thuilleries. He looked a little amazed, I —
thought a little mad. But Mme. Josephine has tact enough. "Man
ami" she said to him, " here is an American, my oldest and best friend.
I present to you Mons. Perry, —
the best friend of the Vicomte, and but
for whom I should never have been here. Mons. Perry, you had the right
to be the godfather of Engine."
Dear papa bowed, and gave the First Consul his hand, and said he
hoped he was well. Was not that magnificent ? Oh, Inez, it was ravish-
ing to see him The consul was a little amazed, I think ; but he is a
!

man immense penetration and immense sense. So is papa. The

of
general asked him at once about Martinique and all the islands, and
Toussaint and St. Domingo, and every thing. Well, in two minutes, you
170 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

know, papa told him more than all their old reports and despatches would
tell him in a month, —
more, indeed, than they knew.
Well, the general was delighted. He took papa over to a sofa, and
there they sat and sat ; and, Inez, there they sat and sat ; and they
talked /ot- two hours. What do you think of that ? People kept coming
in ; and there was poor I talking to Madame, and to half the finest
women in France ; and everybody was looking into the corner, and won-
dering who " VAmericain magnifique " was^ whom the consul had got hold
of. Madame sent them some coffee. But nobody dared to interrupt ; and
at last Gen. Buonaparte rose and laughed, and said, " Madame will never
forgive me for my boots ; " but he made papa promise to come again last
night. Now, last night, you know, was one of the regular court receptions,
— one of the Malmaison ones, I mean. You know tlje state receptions
are at the Thuilleries. Of this I must take another sheet to tell you.

When Inez read this letter, she said to her aunt, —

" Do you know what Malmaison is ? It is not a very nice
name."
" It must be their country-house : read on, and perhaps
you will see."

I have shown papa what have written. He laughs at my account of

I
him, and says it is all But it is all gospel true, and shall stand.
trash.
He also says that you will not know what Malmaison is. Malmaison is
an elegant place, about ten miles from Paris, which Mme. Buonaparte
bought, — oh two years or more ago. She carries with her her old
!

island tastes, and is very fond of flowers ; and at this house with the bad
name she has made exquisite gardens. She really does a good deal of
gardening herself, —that is, such gardening as you women do. I have
gone round with her for an hour together, carrying strings and a watering-
pot, helping Mile. Hortense, —
who, you know, is just your age, to help —
her mother'.
Well, so much for Malmaison.
Papa had really had what he calls a " very good time " talking with the
First Consul. He says he is the most sensible man he has seen since he
bade Mr. Pollock good-by. I am afraid I did not take much pains to tell

him that the grand reception of last night was to be a very different thing
from that informal visit ; for, if I had told him, he never would have
gone. But when he was once there, why, he could not turn back, you
know.
And it was very brilliant. Indeed, since the battle of Marengo, nothing
can be too brilliant for everybody's expectations ; and, although Malmai-
son is nothing to the Thuilleries, yet a_/?& there is very charming. When
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 171

papa saw lackeys standing on the steps, and found that our carriage
had to wait its turn, and that our names were to be called from sentry
to sentry, he would gladly have turned and fled. But, like a devoted son,
I explained to him that this would be cowardly. I reminded him that he
had promised Gen. Buonaparte to come, and that his word was as good
as his bond. Before he knew it, a chamberlain had us in hand ; and we
passed along the be presented in our turn.
brilliant line to
you that I had an elegant little queue, and a
Inez, dear, I confess to
soup(on of powder upon my hair. So had most of the gentlemen around
me. But. Gen. Buonaparte hates powder, they say, when it is not gun-
powder ; and he and dear papa had no flake of it on the locks, which
they wore as nature made them. They were the handsomest men in that
room, — I, who write, not excepted. Now, my dear sister, never tell me
that I am vain again.
Well, when our turn came, Mme. Buonaparte gave papa her hand,
which is very unusual, and fairly detained him every' time he offered to

move on. This left me, who came next, to talk to Mile. Hortense, who
was charmante. She never looked so well. I did not care how long the
general and madame held papa. I asked Hortense about the last game
of Prison Bars, which is all the rage at Malmaison. I engaged her for
the third dance. I promised her some Cherokee roses, and I must write
to Turner about them. She asked why papa did not bring you, and I
said you were to enter a Spanish convent. She guessed by my eye that
this was nonsense, and then we had a deal of fun about it. The cham-
berlain was fuming and swearing inwardly ; but the general and Mme.
Buonaparte would not let papa go on. Papa was splendid You would !

have thought he had been at court all his life. At last he tore himself
away. I bowed to Madame, who smiled. I bowed to the First Consul,
and he said, " Ah, monsieur, Eugene est au disespoir de votes voir." I
smiled and bowed again. And so papa and I were free.
But there were ever so many people looking on, and I was so proud to
present to him this and that of my friends I brought Lagrange to him,
!

who taught us our mathematics when I was in the Polytechnic. Lagrange

brought up La Place, who is another of our great men. I presented him
to Mme. Berthollet, and to Mme. Campan, who is a favorite here, and to
Mme. Morier ; and they all asked him such funny questions You know 1

they all think that we live close by Niagara, and breakfasted every day
with Gen. Washington, and that all of us who were old enough fought in
the battle of Bunker Hill, while of course we were all playmates with
Mme. Buonaparte.
At dancing came. The rooms are not very large, but large
last the
enough ; and the music, —
O Inez dear ! it was ravissante. The First
Consul took out a hideous creature I forget her name ; but she was
:
172 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

a returned Imigrle, of a great royalist family, who had buried her preju-
dices, or ,
Gen. Junot took out Madame: that was a
pretended to.

couple worth seeing. I danced with Mile. Poitevin, a lively girl ; but I
must tell of her another time. O Inez the First Consul dances ! well —
— horridly ! He hates to dance. He called for that stupid old " Mo-
naco," as he always does, because he cannot make so many mistakes in
it Well, he only danced this first time ; and I had charming dances with
Mile. Julie Ramey, and then with the lovely Hortense. Was not I the
envied of the evening then !

It was then round to see how papa fared. Mile. Hortense

that, looking
caught and said so roguishly, " Ah, Monsieur, qtie vous ipouvante I
my eye,
we will take care of your papa. See, the consul himself has charge of
him." True enough, the consul had found him, and led him across to a
quiet place by the conservatory door ; and, Inez, they talked the whole
evening again.
—
And it was in this talk, when papa had been explaining to him what
a sin and shame it was that so fine a country as Louisiana should have
been given over to that beast of a Charles Fourth, and that miserable
Godoy only I suppose he put it rather better, that the consul smiled,
: —
tapped his snuff-box, gave papa snuff, and said, " Mons. Perry, you Ameri-
cans can keep secrets. You may count yourselves republicans from to-
day.'' Papa did not know what he meant, and said so plumply.
Then he told papa that he had received an express from Madrid that
very morning. Inez, an article is signed by which Louisiana is given
back to France. Think of that The Orleans girls may dance French
!

dances and sing French songs as much as they please j and old Casa Calvo
may go hang himself.
Only, Inez, you must not tell any one : it is a secret article, and the

First Consul said that no public announcement of any sort was to be

made.
Now, after that, who says it is not profitable to go to court ? I am
sure papa will never say so again. But the paper is all out, and the oil
is all out in my new argand. Salute dear Aunt Eunice with my heart's
love ; and believe me, ma chire sceur.
Voire frire tris devoul,
Roland Perry.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 173

CHAPTER XVI.

NEWS ? WHAT NEWS ?

" News great news in the ' London Gazette
I I I

But what the news is, I will not tell you yet;
For, if by misfortune my news I should tell,
Why, never a ' London Gazette should I sell."
'

Cries of London.

These letters from Paris did not, of course, reach Eunice

and Inez till the short winter —
if winter it may be called —
of Texas was over ; and February found them enjoying the
wonders and luxuries of that early spring.
The surprising news with which both letters ended gave
them enough food for talk when they were alone ; and the
White Hawk, almost their constant companion, saw that
some subject of unusual seriousness had come in, a subject —
too, which, with her scanty notions of European politics, she
could hardly be expected to understand. In her pretty
broken English she would challenge them to tell her what
they read, and what they said.
" Te-reaty' —
what is te-reaty, my sister? F-erance what —
is F-erance, my auntie ?

But to make the girl understand how the signing of a piece

of parchment, by an imbecile liar in a Spanish palace, should
affect the status, the happiness, or the social life of the two
people dearest to her in the world, was simply impossible.
The ladies were both glad to receive such news. Every-
body would be glad, excepting the little coterie of
in Orleans
the governor's court. Everybody in America would be glad.
174- PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Better that Louisiana should be in the hands of a strong

power than a weak one. But still their secret gave the ladies
anxiety. If, — as had suggested,
Silas Perry if the dice- —
box should throw war between Spain and France, here they
were in San Antonio at the beginning only of a visit which
was meant to last a year. And, worse, if the dice-box should
throw war between France and England, everybody knew
that an English squadron would pounce on Orleans, and their
country would be changed again.
" I told Capt. Nolan one day," said Inez, in mock grief,
which concealed much real feeling, "that I was a girl without
a country. I seem to be likely to be a girl of three countries,
if not of four."
Three months of garrison life, with such contrivances as the
ladies around them had devised to while away time, had given
to all three of the. new-comers a set of habits quite different
from those of the home at Orleans. The presence of Cor-
dero and of Herrara there, both remarkable men, seemed al-
most of course. Eunice Perry was right in saying that neither
of them belonged there. But they both liked the residence,
and, still more, they liked each other. This was fortunate for
our friends ; for it proved that in Mme. Herrara, who was
herself an English lady by birth, they found a charming
friend. The ladies named in Miss Perry's letter to her
brother were all women of brilliancy or of culture, such as
would have been prizes in any society. The little tertulias
of the winter became, therefore, parties of much more spirit
than any Eunice had known, even in the larger and more
brilliant social circle of Orleans ; and in the long hours of the
morning, when the gentlemen were pretending to drill recruits,
or to lay out lines for imaginary buildings, or otherwise to
make here,
develop the town which the governors wanted to
made pleasant and regular occasions for meeting,
the ladies
when a new poem by Valdez, or an old play by Lope de
Vega, entertained them all together.
In all these gatherings the Donna Maria Dolores, whom
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 175

our fair Inez had gone so far West to see, was, if not leader,
the admired, even the beloved, centre of each little party.
Eunice Perry came more highly, as she wondered
to prize her
at her more profoundly, with every new and quiet interview
between them. Her figure was graceful ; her face animated
rather than beautiful ; her eyes quick and expressive. There
was something contagious in her welcome ; and so S)mipa-
thetic was she, in whatever society, that her presence in any
tertuUa was enough to put the whole company at ease, cer- —
tainly to lift it quite above the conventional type of formal
Spanish intercourse. There were in the garrison-circle some
officers' wives who would have been very unfortunate but for
Maria Dolores. Either for beauty, or wealth, or something
less had been married by men of higher
explicable, they
rank than their own ; and now they found themselves among
ladies who were ladies, and ofiicers most of whom were really
gentlemen, while their own training had been wholly neg-
lected, and they were absolutely in the crass ignorance of a
Mexican peasant's daughter, or of the inmate of a Moorish
harem. They could dress, they could look pretty, and that
was absolutely all. There were not quite enough of them,
this winter, to make a faction of their own, and send the
others to Coventry. Indeed, the superior
rank,' as it hap-
pened, of Mme. Herrara, Senora Valois, and of
of the
Donna Maria Dolores, to say nothing of others who have
been named, made this impossible. So was it that Donna
Maria had her opportunity, and used it, to make them at ease,
and to see that they were not excluded from the little con-
trivances by which the winter was led along. She always
had a word even for the dullest of them. A bit of embroid-
ery, or some goose-grease
for a child's throat, or a message
something or other, gave importance, for the
to Monteclovez,
moment, even to a stupid wax-doll, who had perhaps but
just found out she was a fool, and had not found out what
she should do about it.

It was in a little gathering, rather larger than was usual,

176 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

inwhich they were turning over two or three plays of Lope

de Vega, and wondering whether they could spur the gentle-
men up to act one with them, that Eunice and Inez both
received a. sudden shock of surprise, which made them listen
with all their ears, and look away from each other with terri-

ble determination.
" Who shall take Alfonso ? " said the eager Madame Zulo-
aga.
" Oh, let Mr. Lonsdale take Alfonso ! He is just mysteri-
ous enough ! And then he has so little to say.''
" But what he does say would kill us with laughing : his
English-Spanish is so funny ! Do the English really think
they know our language better than we do ?

" I am sure I should never advise him. But anybody can

take Alfonso. Ask Capt. Garcia to take it, — Luisa, do you
ask him he will do any thing you ask."
:

The fair Luisa said nothing, but blushed and giggled.

One of the wax-doll people spoke up bluntly, and, in a
language not absolutely Castilian, said, —
"Capt. Garcia will be gone. His troop is ordered out
against Nolano."
" Gone " cried two or three of the younger ladies.
! And
only Eunice cared whether the troop went against Apaches
or Comanches, or to relieve a garrison in New Mexico, so it
was go it was the loss of partners for which they grieved,
to :

not any particular danger to friends or to enemies.

Eunice, however, picked up the dropped subject.
" Did you say they went against Nolan ?
"Why, yes, or rather no. They go to take the place at
Chihuahua, you know, of the two troops who go, you know,
against the Americanos., Who go? or are they now gone,
Donna Carlotta ? Was who told me ? "
it not you
No, it was not Donna Carlotta who had told her;' and
soon it proved that nobody should have told her, and that
she should not have told what she had heard. De Nava had
intentionally sent his troopers from distant Chihuahua,
 OR, "SffOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 177

because the Americanos would not watch that city ; and he

had not meant any sign of
to give activity eastward in San
Antonio, which they would watch. The truth was, he was
jealous and suspicious both of Cordero and of Herrara,
though they were his countrymen.
But by some oversight a letter had been read in presence
of the wax-doll, which she should never have heard and ;

thus the secret of secrets, which Herrara and Cordero and

Barelo had preserved most jealously, was blurted out in the
midst of four-and-twenty officers' wives.

So soon as the ladies parted, Eunice made it her business

to find the husband of her sister, and spoke to him very
frankly. She told him that she knew Nolan, and knew him
well ; that he even accompanied them for a day or twa on
their expedition. She told him on what cordial terms he
was with all the Spanish governors of Orleans. She ridi-
culed the idea of his making war with a little company of
" grooms and stablers " (for into Spanish words of such force
was she obliged to translate the horse-hunters of his party) ;
and she explained to Major Barelo, that, though the people
of the West were eager to open the Mississippi, the very last
thing they wanted was to incense the military commanders of
Mexico.
Major Barelo was an accomplished officer of European
experience, and a man of rare good sense. He heard Eunice
with sympathy all through, and then he said to her, —
" I can trust you as I can trust my wife. You are right in
saying that this folly is the most preposterous extravagance
that has crossed any ruler's brain since the days of Don
Quixote.
" You are right in saying thatDon Pedro de Nava gave to
this very Nolan a pass, not to say an invitation, to carry on
this very trade. Why, we know him here he has been here
:

again and again.

" But it seems that you do not know that De Nava has
been told to change his policy. New kings,- new measures.
178 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

He is a Pharaoh who does not know your Joseph, my dear

sister.
" He does not dare give his commands to us. We have
too much sense. We have too much civilization. We have
too much of the new century. Herrara or Cordero would
laugh his plan to scorn. Far from incensing the Kentuck-
ianos, theywould let the captain slip through their fingers, and
wisely. We have had a plenty of despatches from Nacogdo-
ches about him ; but we light our cigars with them, my dear
sister."

; " but what does De Nava

" Yes, yes," said Eunice eagerly
do ? he sending out an army ? " Then she saw she was
Is
too vehement she collected herself, and said, " You see, my
:

dear brother, I know the American people. I know that, if

injustice is done, there is danger of war."
"And so do I," said Barelo sadly. "And when war comes,
now or fifty years hence, who has the best chances on these
prairies, —
your Kentucky giants, or my master four thousand
miles away in the Escorial ? "
" Do you know when the army started ? " said Eunice,
giving him time to pause.
"Army! there is no army, — a wretched hundred or two
of lancers. Oh ! they left, I think they left Chihuahua just
before Christmas. We heard of them at El Paso last week.
That was when we got this order for two troops of the queen's
regiment to go back to the commandant to take their places."
And then he added, " I am as much annoyed as you can
be, —more. But a soldier is a soldier."
"A soldier is a soldier," said Eunice almost fiercely, to
Inez afterward, when she told her of this conversation, "
and
a woman, alas, is a woman. How can we put poor Nolan
on his guard, — tell him that these brigands are on his track ?
If only we had known it sooner !

How, indeed For William Harrod had left them so soon

!

as San Antonio was in sight. He had called off with him

Richards and King and Adams, and had said lightly, in his
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 179

really tender parting from Inez and Eunice, that he should

be with Nolan in He counted without his
five days' time.
host, alas ! but of this Eunice and Inez knew nothing till long
after.
" Do you believe Ransom could slip through ? " said Eunice
thoughtfully.
" He could and he could not," said Inez. " In the first

place, he would not go. The Inquisition could not make him
go. He is here to take care of you and me you and
: if

I want to go, he will take us ; and we shall arrive safely, and

Nolan, dear fellow, will be saved. But, if we think we cannot
tell Aunt Dolores that we' want to go up to the Upper Brassos,
why, as you know. Ransom will not budge." And the girl
smiled sadly enough through her tears.
" Me will go," said White Hawk, who was looking from one
to the other as they spoke, judging by their faces, rather than
their words, what they were saying.
" Where will me go ? " said Inez, hugging her and kissing
her. The wonder and depth of White Hawk's love for her
was always a new joy and new surprise to Inez, who, perhaps,
had not been fortunate in the friends whom her schoolgirl
experiences had made for her among her own sex.
" Me go on horse-trail me go up through mesquit country
;

— find prairie country ; come up through wood three day,

four day, five day —
White Wolf River ; me swim White
Wolf River ; more woods —
more woods five day, six, seven
day —
no matter how much day ; me find Harrod, find King,
find Richards, find Blackburn, find Nolan find other plen- —
ty white men, good white men, your white men hunt —
horses, plenty horses —
plenty white men."
" You witch " cried Inez ; " and how do you know that ?
!

White Hawk laughed with the quiet Indian laugh, which

Inez said was like Ransom's choicest expression of satisfac-
tion.
" Know it with my ears — know
; it with my eyes. See it.

Hear it. Think it. Know it all — know it all."

i8o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" And you would go back to those horrid woods and those
fearful Indians,whom you hate so and dread so, for the love
of your poor Inez !
" Inez was beside herself now, and
could not speak for crying.
Of course White Hawk's proposal could not be heard to
for an instant. But all the same it had its fruit, as cour-
:

age will.

That afternoon there was some grand parade of the little

whom Eunice and Inez relied
garrison, so that the cavaliers
upon most often were detained at their posts. But Eunice
proposed, that, rather than lose their regular exercise, they
should ride with the attendance of Ransom, and rely on
meeting the major and the other gentlemen as they returned.
The day was lovely ; and they took a longer ride than was
usual past the Alamo, and up the river-side.
Six or seven miles distant from the Presidio, as they came
out on a lovely opening, which they had made their object,
they found, to their surprise, a little camp of Indians, who
had established themselves there as if for a day or two.
There was nothing unusual in the sight ; and the riding party
would hardly have stopped, but that the little red children
came screaming after them, with tones quite different from
the ordinary beggar-whine, which is much the same with
Bedouins, with lazzaroni, and with Indians. Wliite Hawk,
of course, first caught their meaning. " Friends, friends,"

she said, laughing, — " old

friends," as she put her hand
upon Inez's hand, to arrest her in the fast gallop in which she
was hurrying along.
Inez thought White Hawk meant they were friends of hers,
and for a moment drew bridle. Eunice and Ransom stopped
also.
" No, no Friends,
! —
your friends, Inez, —
your friends."
And, as Inez turned, indeed, she saw waved in triumph a
scarf which was no common piece of In^iian finery; and
which, in a minute more, she- saw was the scarf she had given
to a child on the levee of the Mississippi, in the very first
week of their voyaging.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." i8l

" Have the wretches come all the way here ? " she said,
surprised and she stopped, almost unconsciously now, to
j

see what they would say.

To her amusement, and to Eunice's as well, with great
rapidity and much running to and fro from lodge to lodge,
there were produced, from wrappings as many as if they had
been dianjonds or rubies, all the little cuttings of paper, —
horses, buffaloes, dancing boys and girls, —
with which
Eunice had led along the half-hour while they were waiting
for the boatmen, on that day of their first adventure.
She smiled graciously, not sorry that she had a good horse
under her this time, and acknowledged the clamorous hom-
age which one after another paid to her. Then, remembering
her new advantage, she asked the White Hawk to interpret
for her ; and the girl had no difficulty in doing so.
Eunice bade her tell them that she could make them no
buffaloes now, —
not even an antelope ; but, if they would
come down to the Presidio the next morning, they should all
have some sugar.
They said they were afraid to come to the Presidio one :

of their people had been flogged there.

A grim smile appeared on Ransom's face, which implied,
to those who knew him, a wish that the same treatment had
gone farther.
" Tell them, then, that I will send them some sugar, and
send them some antelopes, if come to-morrow morn-
they will
ing to the Alamo;" and the White Hawk told them, and
they all rode on.
"Do you not see," said Eunice quickly, " if the White
Hawk can go up the Brasses, these people can go up there ?
If she knows the way, she can tell them. There must be
some way in which they can take a token or a letter."
She turned her horse, so soon as they had well passed the
camp, beckoned -E,ansom from the rear to join her, and bade
the girls fall in behind.
Taking up the road homeward, but no longer galloping, or
even trotting, she said to the old man,
1 82 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

"
Ransom, Capt. Nolan is in great danger."
Een told me so," replied he, too much occupied with
"
anxious thought to care much for etiquette.
" There are a hundred or two Spanish troopers hunting
him, if they have not found him ; and, what is worse, they
mean to fight him. Ransom."
" The cap'n '11 give 'fem hell, ma'am."
" The them if they find him ; but, Ran-
captain will" fight

som, they must not find him. Ransom, I don't want the
people dpwn below to know any thing about this ; but to-
morrow morning, some of these Indians must start with a
letter to the captain ; and they must make haste, Ransom.
Will you bring it out here before daylight ? "
" Yes'm. But it ain't no use. Can't send no letter. Poor
set, — liars, all on um. Show the letter to the priest before
they go. Priest got hold uv every darn one on um. Tell
um all he'll roast um all, go nigh white man. Liars
ef they
all on um, — can't send no letter. Tain't no use."
"Do you think the knows these people ?
priest
" Know it, jest as Hearn um tell at
well as nothin'.
market to-day. Old Father Jos^ cum ; and the young one,
black-haired rascal, he cum too ; cum and gin um a picter-
book, and cum back with five beaver and three antelope
skin, and two buffaloes. Gin um a"[Link]. Hearn all
about it at market. All liars ! Injuns is liars ;
priests is

liars too."

Eunice thought of tokens which messengers had carried,

who knew not what they bore. She longed to tell Ransom
some story of Cyrus or of Pyrrhus ; but she contented her-
self with saying, —
" I must send word." And she called Inez to her, and
the White Hawk.
" Ma-ry, can I send these people to the captain ? Can
you tell them how to go ?
" Tell — yes — now," and the girl checked her horse, as
if to return with the message.
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 183

" No, -not now, Ma-ry. Can I write ? Will these people
take the letter ?
" Give sugar, — much sugar, — take letter. Take it,

throw it in river, throw it in fire. All laugh. Eat sugar,

throw letter away. All lie. All steal.
" Give sugar, little sugar, — give — letter, letter say Nolan
send other letter. Other come, you give
letter sugar, — oh,
give heap sugar ! heap sugar — see " ?

" Yes, yes, — I see," said Eunice. " When they come
back with other letter from Capt. Nolan, I will pay them with
sugar."
"See —
yes yes — —
see? Heap sugar all come."
Then she opened and shut her hands quickly.
" Five, five, five days, heap sugar. Five, five, five, five
days, little heap sugar. Five, five, five, five, five, five, days,
gourd of sugar. More days, no sugar, no sugar, bad Indian.
Nolan dead. No sugar at all."
" Ma-ry, these people know the priest. Father Josd they
know. Father Jeronimo they know. Priests do not love
Nolan. Will they show the priest my letter " .'

The girl took the question in an instant, — took it, it

would seem, before it was asked. Her face changed.

" Show old White Head letter, White Head tear letter, —
burn letter."
But in an instant she added, —
"White Hawk send skin. Old White Head no read skin."
And she flung up her head like a princess, proud of her
superior accomplishment. Eunice took her idea at once,
praised her, and encouraged it. The girl meant, that, if she
traced on the back of an antelope-skin one of the hiero-
glyphic pictures of the Indian tribes, Nolan would under-
stand the warning she gave ; while the average Franciscan,
with all his accomplishments, would let it pass without com-
prehending its meaning.
In such discussions, on an easy gallop, they returned
homeward. As they approached the garrison, they met Mr.
18-4 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Lonsdale, the stranger whom the gossiping party of ladies

had pronounced so mysterious. Eunice, to say the truth, was
much of their mind. Who Mr. Lonsdale was, what he was,
and why he was there, no one knew. And, while she disliked
the gossiping habit of most of the people around her, she did
not like to be in daily intercourse with a man who might be a
spy from the headquarters at the City of Mexico, might be
an agent of the King of England, might be any thing the
Mexican ladies said he was.
For all this, he and the ladies were on terms externally
friendly. He
stopped as they approached, and asked per-
mission to join their party, which Eunice, of course, granted
cordially. He turned, and rode with her. The two girls
dropped behind.
After a moment's hesitation, he said, —
" I should be sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Miss
Perry. Perhaps you are indifferent to my news. But I came
out hoping to meet you."
And he stopped as if hesitating anew.
Eunice said, with a shade of dignity, that she was much
obliged to him.
"I thought — I supposed — I did not know," said the
Englishman, with more even than the usual difficulty of his
countrjmien in opening a conversation, "you may not have
heard that a military force is in the upper valleys, looking for
the American horse-hunters."
What did this man mean ? Was he a quiet emissary from
the provincial capital, whose business itwas to gain informa-
tion about poor Nolan ? Was he trying to get a crumb from
Miss Perry ?She was quite on her guard. She felt quite
sure of her ground, too, —
that she could foil him, by as
simple an artifice as —
the truth,
"Oh, yes, Mr. Lonsdale! I have heard this, I heard it
from Mme. Malgares, and in more detail from one of the
officers."
" Then perhaps you know more than I do,"
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 185

"Very probably," said Eunice, not without the slightest

shade of triumph.
The mysterious Mr. Lonsdale was thrown off his guard.
Eunice had no wish to relieve himj and they rode on in
silence. With some gulping, and possibly a little flush, he
said, " I had thought you might be anxious about Mr. Nolan,
or about the Kentucky gentlemen. I understood Miss Inez
to speak as if some of them were your escort here."
How much did he krow, and how
little? Eunice's first
thought was to say, " The Kentucky gentlemen will take
care of themselves." But this tone of defiance might compli-
cate things. Once more she tried the truth.
" Oh, yes ! Mr. Harrod and two
or three more of that
party came to Antonio with us." She longed to say, "Why
did not your king pounce on them then ? " but again she was
prudent.
Mr. Lonsdale tried to break her guard once more. " The
Spanish force is quite a large one," said he.

Eunice longed to say, " I know that too." But her con-
versation with Major Barelo had been confidential. She
said, " Indeed " and the Englishman was disarmed.
!
He
made no further attempt. They came without another word
to the colonel's quarters ; he helped the proud Miss Perry to
dismount, and the ladies sought their own apartments.
Before bedtime the White Hawk brought her letter to
Eunice. She came into the double room which Eunice and
her niece occupied ; and she bore on her back a parcel of
skins, exactly as a squaw might bring them into the ware-
house for trade. She flung them down on the floor with just
the air of a tired Indian, glad his tramp was at an end.
Then, with a very perfect imitation of the traders' jargon,
she said, —
" Buy skin ? ugh ? good skin ? ugh ? Five skin, six skin,
good skin. Buy ? ugh ? Whiskey, sugar, powder, — one
whiskey, two sugar, four powder, — six skin. Ugh ? "

And she held up one hand, and the forefinger of the other.
 l86 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Eunice and Inez laughed ; and Inez said, —

" Yes, yes good skin
! buy skin— one — skin, five skin.
Heap sugar, heap whiskey, heap powder " !

So the mock bargain was completed. The girls knelt, and

untied the cords ; and the White Hawk affected to praise her

•
skins, — the color, the smoothness, the age, and so on. And
when she had played out her joke, and not till then, she
turned them all over, and showed the grotesque figures which
she had drawn on the back of one of them. Even to
Eunice's eye, although she had the clew, they showed nothing.
Perhaps she began at the top when she should have begun
at the bottom perhaps she began at the bottom when she
:

should have begun at the middle. Ma-ry enjoyed her puzzled

expression, but made no sign till Eunice said,
" I can make nothing of it. You must show me."
Then the White Hawk laughed and explained. From
point to point of the skin her finger dashed —
who should
say by what law? But here was a group made up of an
eagle and ten hands, ten feet, and ten other hands. This
meant a hundred eagles and fifty more, —
and eagles were
"enemies." In a distant corner was a round shield, in
another a lance with scalps attached, in another the feather
of a helmet. This showed that she supposed the enemies
were lancers ; and carried
that they wore the Spanish helmet,
the Spanish shields. Another character had three Roman
crosses : these were the crosses of the cathedral at Chihua-
hua. Nolan had seen them, and the White Hawk had heard
of them. Far and wide had their fame gone among those
simple people ; for that cathedral was as the St. Peter's of
the whole of Northern Mexico. And so the record went on.
The White Hawk assured her friends that so soon as Nolan
or Harrod saw the skin they would know what, as the ladies
could very well understand, very few white men would know
that a hundred and fifty Spanish lancers had left Chihuahua
in search of him. Then she showed where the representa-
tion of six bears' paws sjiowed that on the sixth day of the
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 187

moon of the bears the expedition started ; and then where a

chestnut-burr, by the side of men fording a river, showed
that they crossed the Rio Grande after the month of chest-
nuts had come in.

All this Eunice heard and approved with wonder. She

praised the girl to her heart's content.
" Where did you find your colors, my darling ?

And Ma-ry confessed, that, failing walnut-husks and oak-

galls, she had contented herself with Inez's inkstand.
" But this red around the scalps, this red crest of the tur-
key's head, these red smooches on the lances .

The White Hawk paused a moment, turned off the question

as if it were an idle one ; but, when she was pressed, she
stripped up the sleeve of her dress, and showed the fresh
wound upon her arm, where she had, without hesitation, used
her own blood for vermilion.
Then Inez kissed her again and again. But the girl would
not pretend that she thought this either pain or sacrifice.
Eunice thanked her, but told her she must always trust
them more. And then they all corded up the pack together ;
and, under the White Hawk's hands, it assumed again the
aspect of the most unintelligent bale of furs that ever passed
from an Indian's hands to a trader's. It was agreed, that at
daybreak Ransom and Ma-ry should carry the parcel to the
Indian camp, and Ma-ry should try the force of her rhetoric,
backed with promises of heaps of sugar, to send a party with
the message.
" It is all very fine," said Inez ; " and, if that skin ever
reaches him, I suppose that he or Capt. Harrod will disen-
tangle its riddles. But I have more faith in ten words of
honest English than in all this galimatias."
" So have I, dear child, if the honest English ever comes
to him. See what I have done. I have begged from Dolores
this pretty prayer-book. There is no treason there. I have
loosened the parchment cover here, and have written on the
inside of it your ten words, and more. See, I said, —
l88 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;
" The governor lancers after you at Christ-
' sent a hundred and fifty

mas. They were at El Paso last week, and mean fight.'

" You see I printed this in old text, and matched the color
of the old Latin, as well as its character. These people shall
take that to Capt. Nolan with this note."
And she read the note she had written :
—
" My dear Cousin,
' —
May the Holy Mother keep you in her remem-
brance My prayer for you, day and night, is that you may be saved.
!

Forget the vanities and sins of those shameless heretics, and enter into
the arms of our mother, the Church. Study well, in each day's prayers,
the holy book I send you. On our knees we daily beg that you toay see
the errors of your wandering, and return.'

" That will make him search the book through and
through and if he does not rip off this parchment cover,
;

and find what I have written on the inside, he is not the

man I take him to be.
" And now, girls, go to bed, both of you Ma-ry will need :

to be moving bright and early, if she is to take this to the

redskins before the fort is stirring."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 189

CHAPTER XVII.

MINES AND COUNTER-MINES.

" Seek not thou to find

The sacred counsels of almighty mind
Involved in darkness lies the great decree,
Nor can the depths of fate be pierced by thee
What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know."
Homer.

With the gray of the morning the White Hawk left the
house, and found her way out of the little settlement. The
girl's history was perfectly known to every one at the post,
and any waywardness in her habits attracted no surprise
indeed,it attracted no attention. On his part. Ransom had
saddled his own horse, had fastened behind the saddle the
pack of furs, and a package, only not quite so large, of the
much-prized sugar.
"All nonsense," he had said to Eunice. "Gin um two
quarts whiskey, and they'll go to hell for you. Sugar's poor
sugar : your brother would not look at it, it's so bad ; but it's

too good for them redskins. Gin um whiskey."

But Eunice was resolute ; and the old man knew that he
must throw the sugar away, because she so bade him. He
satisfied himself, therefore, with taking from the storehouse
on her order just twice as much as she had bidden him. He
was well clear of any observation from the Presidio when he
saw Ma-ry in advance of him, moving so quickly that he had
to abandon the walk of his horse, and come to a trot, that he
might overtake her.
190 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"Mornin', Miss Mary: better jump up here: The old

bay's often carried Miss Inez."
in a moment he had lifted the girl, who was an expert
And
inhorsemanship in all its guises, so that she sat behind him
on the pack of furs, steadying herself by placing one hand
upon his shoulder. Having entirely satisfied himself, after
the few days of his observation of the White Hawk, that
first

she was, in very truth, neither a "nigger" nor an " Ingin,"

he had taken her into the sacred chamber of his high favor,
and did not regard her as humbug or liar, which is more than
can be said of his regard for most men and women.
" Want ye to tell them redskins to keep away from them
priests and friars, Miss Mary. Priests and friars ain't no
good nowhere. These here is wuss than most on imi be.
Tell the redskins to keep clear on urn."
The White Hawk thought she understood him, and said so.
" Tell urn to make haste, lazy critters, if they can. Wanted
to go myself to tell Mr. Nolan. Can't go, cos must stay with
the young ladies. But I could get there and back 'fore them
lazy redskins will go half way. Tell um to be here in
a week, and we'll give um five pounds of good sugar, every
man on um."
Ma-ry understood enough to know that this proposal was
absurd. She told Ransom, in language which he did not
understand, that if the messengers reached Nolan in less
than eight or ten days it would be by marvellous good luck.
As she did not use his words, spoke of suns and nights, and
of hands whenever she would say "five," the old man did not
at all follow her ; but he was relieved by thinking that she
understood him, and said so.
" That's so let um travel all day and all night too.
: I'd
get there myself by day arter to-morrow ; but them redskins
don't know nothin'."
The truth was, that he was as ignorant as a mole of Nolan's
position and of the way thither. But he had always relied,
and not in vain, on his own quick good sense, his iron
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 191

Strength,and his intense determination to achieve any task

he had hand more promptly than those around him. He
in
did not, therefore, even know that he was bragging. He
meant merely to say that the Indians were as nearly worth-
less as human beings could be ; that their ability was less
than his in the proportion of one-fifth to one ; and, by the
extravagance of his language, to wash his hands, even in
the White Hawk's eyes, of any participation in the responsi-
bility of this undertaking.
They were soon in sight of the smoke of the lodges ; and
in a moment more were surrounded by the beggar children
of a beggar tribe, eager for paper gods, for whiskey, for sugar,
for ribbons, for tobacco, or for any thing else that might be
passing.
Ma-ry sought out and found the man who could best be
Ransom had dismounted ; but
called the chief of the party.
she sat upon the saddle still, and took an air which was
wholly imperial in her dealings with the Crooked Feather.
Ransom said afterward to Inez, " The gal's a queen in her
own country, she is." Ma-ry did not ask she directed.
:

The man was amazed that she Spoke to him in his own
language. No white man or woman of the Presidio had ever
accosted him so till now. He had seen her only the day
before with a party from the fort; and he knew very well
that they represented the dignitaries of the fort. He did not
know who she was, nor did the girl make any endeavor to
explain.
Simply she bade him, in the most peremptory way, take
the skins and the little parcel which she gave him to the

hunting-party whom he would find on the Tockanhono, and

to be sure he was there before the moon changed. When he
had done this he was to come back, also as soon as might
be J and when he returned, if he brought any token from the
long-knife chief whom he found there, he was to have sugar
in heaps which almost defy the powers of our numeration.
All the party were to have heaps of it. In guerdon,, or
192 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

token, Ransom was now permitted to open the little pack of

sugar which he had brought with him, which then lay in
tempting profusion in its open wrapper while Ma-ry spoke.

She was a littleannoyed to see that her order —

for it was
hers originally — had been so largely exceeded.
As for the size of the party, the Crooked Feather might go
alone, or he might take all the lodges, as he chose only he
:

must not tarry. For all who went, and all who returned,
there would be sugar if they were here before the third quar-
ter of the new moon. If as late as the next moon, there
would be no sugar; and the White Hawk's expression of
disgust at a result so wretched was tragical. The so-called
stoics to whom she spoke affected feelings of dismay equal
to hers.
Crooked Feather ventured to suggest that a little whiskey
made travel quicker.
The imperial lady rebuked him sternly for the proposal,
and he shrunk back ashamed.
In a rapid council he then decided that only five horses
with their riders should go, and this under his own lead.
As for the sugar which Ransom had brought and laid before
them, it was nothing even a rabbit would not see that any
:

sugar lay there. In token of which, as they talked, the

Crooked Feather and his companions scooped it up in their
hands, and ate it all ; it would not have vanished sooner had
it been some light soup provided for their refreshment. But
he understood that his supposed " White Father " who had
provided this had sent it only as a little token of good-will,
— clearly could not, indeed, send more, besides the furs and
the princess, on the back of Ransom's saddle. A chief of
the rank and following of Crooked Feather was substantially,
he said, the equal of his Great Father personally unknown
to him. But he wore and showed a crucifix, which his Great
Father had sent to him ; and as the Great Father had set his'*
heart on sending these skins to the long-knife chieftain, who
was an intimate friend of Crooked Feather's, according to
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 193

that worthy's own account, why, Crooked Feather would per-

sonally undertake their safe conduct.
Even while this harangue went on, the squaws detailed for
that duty were packing the beasts who were to go on the
expedition, hastily folding the skins of the lodge which was
to go.
Ma-ry was a little surprised to find that she was mistaken
for an emissary of King Charles the Fourth, or of the Pope
of Rome. In truth, she could not herself have named these
dignitaries, nor had she the least idea of their pretensions.
It was idle to try to explain that her Great Father was a very
different person from the Great Father who had started the
crucifix. She simply applauded the purpose of the Crooked
Feather to do what she had told him to do ; and she did not
hesitate to give precise instructions to thewomen who were
packing the horses, in the same queenly manner with which
she had spoken before.
In less than an hour the party was on its way, having long
before consumed to the last crumb all the sugar. Ransom
and Ma-ry returned home. They parted at the spot where
they had met. Ma-ry entered the Presidio on one side, and
Ransom on the other, and it was clear that the absence of
neither of them had challenged any remark in the laziness of
a Spanish town. Ma-ry told her story with glee to the ladies.
Inez fondled and Eunice praised her, only trying to warn
her of the essential difference between such a great father as
Silas Perry and such another as Pope Pius ; of which, how-
ever, to repeat again MacDonald's remark to the Japanese
governors, " She could make nothing."
The same evening the Crooked Feather, who had been
true to his promise of speed, had advanced as far as Gauda-
loupe River. He found there a camp-fire, a little tent, and
three horses tethered. It proved that the party there con-
sisted of three fathers of the Franciscan order, who had left

the Alamo for an outpost mission.

The fathers were patronizing and courteous. They asked
194 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

the purpose of Crooked Feather, and he told them. They

then produced some grape brandy, such as the missions were
permitted to make for their own use, in contravention of
the royal policy which weighed upon persons not ghostly.
Crooked Feather took his portion large, and allotted lesser
quotas to his companions.
With the second draught he went into more minute particu-
lars as to his enterprise,and those who sent him. But the
fathers seemed to take no interest in his narrative.
As soon as the liquor had done its perfect work, and all
the Indians slept in a drunken sleep, Father Jeronimo cut
open the bale of furs, and shook them to see what might be
hidden. When nothing came out, he examined the skins,
and at once found Ma-ry's runes. Of these " he could make
nothing." But he said, with a smile, to the worthy Brother
Diego who assisted him, that it was a pity to lead others into
temptation ; and he took out that skin from the parcel to place
it under his own blanket.

As the Crooked Feather slept heavily, there was no diffi-

culty in relieving him also of the smaller parcel which Ma-ry
had given to him. Father Diego crossed himself, and so did
the other, on opening it. They found the familiar aspect of
a little book of devotion. None the less did the older priest
cut open the stitches which held on the parchment over-
cover. When he noticed, among the words which covered the
inside, some which he knew were neither Spanish nor Latin,
he folded the parchment carefully, and put it in his bosom.
He enclosed in it, as he did so, Eunice's friendly note, of
which he could read no word. He then tied up the book in
its wrapper precisely as it had been folded before.

With his " tokens " thus improved upon, and with the
worst headache he had ever known in his life, the Crooked
Feather started the next morning, at a later hour than he had
intended, on his mission.
At an earlier hour the three Fathers had started on theirs.
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 195

CHAPTER XVIII.

WILL HARROD's fortunes.

" The fragrant birch above him hung

Its tassels in the sky
And many a vernal blossom sprung
And nodded careless by.
But there was weeping far away
And gentle eyes, for hira,
With watching many an anxious day,
Were sorrowful and dim."
Bryant.

It is time to go back to the fortunes of poor Will Harrod,

who had fared, as the winter passed, much less satisfactorily
than any of the rest of our little party.
With no other adventure which we have thought need de-
Harrod had held on
tain the eager or the sluggish reader, his
pleasant journey with the ladies till they were fairly within
sight of the crosses of the church, as they approached San
Antonio. Then he bade them farewell, with more regret than
the poor fellow dared express in words, — not with more
than Eunice expected, or than Inez knew.
He said, very frankly, that his duty to his commander was
to join him as soon as might be, with three companions, who
were so much force taken from the strength of the hunting-
party. He said, that, if he took these men with him into the
Presidio, there was the possibility that they might all be de-
tained, whatever the courtesy of Major Barelo, and in face of
the permission which De Nava had given to Nolan. And
196 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

therefore, he said, though each day that he was with them

was indescribably delightful to him, —
nay, happier than any
days had ever been before, —
he should tear himself away
now, hoping that it might not be very long before at Antonio,
or perhaps at Orleans, they might all meet again.
And the loyal fellow would permit himself to say no more.
Not though he had given every drop of his heart's blood to
Inez, —
though he was willing enough that she should guess
that he had given it to her, —
yet he would not in words say
so to her, nor ask the question to which the answer seemed
to him to be life or death. The young reader of to-day must
judge whether this loyalty or chivalry of his was Quixotic.
Poor Harrod had time enougli to consider it afterward, and
to ask himself, in every varying tone of feeling and temper,
whether he were right or wrong. At every night's encamp-
ment on this journey he had gone backward and forward on
the " ifs " and " buts " of the same inquiry. He had deter-
mined, wisely or not wisely, that he would not in words ask
Inez if she would take that heart which was all her own.
First, because he had no home He was an
to offer her.
adventurer, and only an adventurer and just now the spe-
;

cial adventure in which he was enlisted promised very little

to any engaged in it. Second, he had known Inez only be-
cause she had been intrusted to his care ; and she was in-
trusted to his care, not by her father, but by Philip Nolan,
whom he almost adored, who was the person to whose care
her father had intrusted her. Perhaps her father would not
have intrusted her to him. Who knew ? Very certainly Mr.
Perry would not have intrusted her to him. Master William
Harrod thought, had he supposed, that, before a month was
over, he was going to play the Moor to this lovely Desde-
mona, and steal her from her father's home.
So William Harrod spoke no word of love to Inez. To
Eunice Perry he had committed himself through and through.
—
To Inez he said nothing in words. If every watchful
attention meant any thing in the girl's eyes ; if the most deli-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 197

cate remembrance of her least wish, if provision for every

whim, if care of her first in every moment of inconvenience
or trial, — if these meant any thing, why, all that they meant
he meant ; but he said nothing.
It is not fair to say or to guess whether Inez understood
all this, how far she understood it, or, which is a question
more subtle, whether she ever asked herself if she understood
it. Inez laid down to herself this
rule, not an inconvenient —
one, — that she would him exactly as she treated Philip
treat
Nolan. Philip Nolan did not want to marry her, she did not
want to marry him yet they were the best of friends. She
:

could joke with him, she could talk rhodomontade with him,
she could be serious with him. They had prayed together,
kneeling before the same altar ; they had danced together at
the same ball ; they had talked together by the hour, riding
under these solemn moss-grown trees. She would be as
much at ease with Philip Nolan's friend as she was with
Philip Nolan. That ease he had no right to mistake, nor
had any one a right to criticise.
There was but one thing which gave the girl cause to
ponder on her relations to this young man: it would be
hardly right to say that it gave her uneasiness. But here
was her aunt Eunice, who had never before had any secret
from her, and from whom she had never had any secret.
There was not a theme so lofty, there was not a folly so
petty, but -that she and Aunt Eunice had talked it over, up
and down, back and forth, right and left. Why did Aunt
Eunice never say one word to her about William Harrod ?
She never guarded her, never snubbed her, never praised
,him, never blamed him. If Harrod and Inez rode together
all through an afternoon, talking of books, of poets, of reli-

gion, or of partners, of ribbons, or of flowers, or of clouds,

or of sunset, when they came in at night, Aunt Eunice had
no word of caution, none of curiosity. This was not in the
least natural ; but it was a reserve which Inez did not quite
venture to break in upon.
igS PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Be it observed at the same moment, that Inez was not one

of the people who have been spoken of, who believed that
there was a tenderness between Phil Nolan and her aunt.
Inez knew the absurdity of that theory. On the other hand,
Inez had never forgotten twenty words of confidence which
Philip Nolan gave her two years before the time of which we
speak, when she was beginning to feel that dolls were not all
in all, when she was growing tall, and was very proud of such
confidence. Philip Nolan had shown Inez a picture then, —
a very lovely picture of a lady with a very charming face
and this picture was not a picture of her Aunt Eunice. Inez
believed in men, and as she knew Phil Nolan's secret, she
had never been misled by the theory that there was any ten-
der understanding between him and her aunt.
Was there, then, any mysterious understanding between
William Harrod and her aunt ? No Inez did not believe
!

that either. would happen that there would be rides

True, it

as long when he and her aunt were together, and when Ma-ry
and Inez were together, as there were when he and she talked
of any thing in heaven above, and earth beneath, and the
waters under the earth. And when Aunt Eunice and Capt.
Harrod had been thus talking together all the afternoon, or
all the morning, when they came into camp, while the men

were tethering the horses, and the women, in the relief of

moccasons, were lying alone before the fire, even then never
did Aunt Eunice say one word beyond the merest outside-
talk of ford or mud, or sun or rain, which made any allusion
to William Harrod.
There was one person, however, who made not the slight-
est question as to the relation between these parties. The
White Hawk knew, without being told, that Harrod loved
Inez as his very life. When the two girls were alone, she
never hesitated to tell Inez so j and she never hesitated to
add that it would be strange indeed, seeing what manner of
girlher own Inez was, if he did not love her as his very life.
Nay, there were times when, with such language as the girls
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 199

had, this waif from the forest would venture the question to
which she never got any answer, — whether Inez did not have
the least little bit of thought of him, though his back were
turned and he far away.
The reader now knows more than William Harrod knew of
the state of hisown affairs, on the afternoon when he made his
last good-bys to the two ladies, and, with King and Richards
and Adams, turned back to join the captain on the expedi-
tion from which they had been now for more than a fortnight
parted. Of these men, Harrod had learned early to distrust
Richards. He seemed to him to be himself distrustful,
morose, and sulky without cause ; and Harrod did not believe
him to be a true man.. Of the others he had formed no
judgment, for better or worse, except that tliey were like the
average of Western adventurers, glad to spend a winter on
ground which they had never seen before. He had been a
little surprised that all of them had assented, without ques-

tion or murmur, to so long a separation from the main party

of hunters.
He was more surprised, that, now this separation was so
near an end, none of the men showed any interest in the
prospect of reunion. They rode on, for the four days' forced
march which brought them back to that famous camp where
Inez had lost herself, —
a party ill at ease. Whenever Harrod
tried to lead the conversation to the business of the winter,
it [Link] men dropped that subject as if it were a hot
coal. For himself, poor Harrod gladly turned back in his
own thoughts to every word that had been spoken, to every
look that had been looked, as he and she rode over this road
before. If the men did not want to talk about mustangs and
corrals, he certainly did not. And so, as they brought down
five days of ordinary travel so as to compass them in little
more than three, it was but a silent journey.
Of such silence, the mystery appeared, when they had
discussed the jerked venison of their noonday meal at camp
at the same point as that where Eunice watched and wept.
2O0 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

To go to Nolan's rendezvous from this point, they would

have to follow up the valley of the Brassos River, known to
the Indians as the Tockanhono. The trail would not be as
easy as the old San Antonio road which they had been follow-
ing, nor could they expect to make as rapid progress upon it.
But, at the outside, Nolan was not two hundred miles above
tliem, perhaps not one hundred miles. With the horses they
had under them, this distance would be soon achieved.
As the men washed down the venison with the last drop of
the day's ration of whiskey, Harrod gave his commands for
the evening, in that interrogative or suggestive form in which
a wise officer commands free and independent hunters.
" Had we not better hold on here till daybreak ? " he said.
" That will give the horses a better chance at this feed. We
will start as soon as we can see our hands in the morning
and by night we shall have made as much as if we had started
now."
None of the men said a word —
a little to Harrod's sur-
prise,though he was used to their sulkiness.
" Well," said he, " if you want to play cards, you must play
by yourselves this evening. I shall take a nap now, and
then I have my journal to write up ; and Mr. Nolan wants
me to take the latitude here as soon as the stars are up. So
good luck to you all."

Upon this. King— who was perhaps the most easy speaker
of the party — screwed himself up, or was put up by the
others, to say, —
"Cap'n, I may as well tell you tliat we's going home.
There won't be no horses cotched up yonder this year. Them
blasted Greasers is too many for Cap'n Nolan or for you
and we sha'n't get into that trap. We uns is going home ;

'n, if you's wise, you goes too."

Harrod stared at first, This was the
without speaking.
was it ? And this Mordecai
mystery of all this sulky silence,
Richards was at the bottom of it Harrod was too angry to
!

speak for a moment. Before he did speak, he had mastered

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 201

that first wish to give the man a black eye, or to choke him
^

for a few minutes, as recompense for such treachery. He

fit

did master it, and succeeded in pretending this was a half-

joke, and in trying persuasion.
They battled it for half an hour, Harrod coaxed, he
shamed, he threatened ; and, at the end, he saw the traitors
saddle and pack their horses, and they rode off without a
word of good-by, leaving Harrod alone, as he had left Eunice
Perry on that spot, only that Harrod had no loyal Ransom.
" There is no use crying for spilled milk," he said, as if it
were a comfort to him to speak one clean and strong word
after paddling in the ditch of those men's lies and cowardice.
" Half an hour of a good siesta lost in coaxing cowards and
!
convicting liars
And on this the good fellow threw himself on the ground
again, drew a buffalo-robe over his feet and knees, adjusted
his head to his mind on a perch which he took from his
saddle, and in ten seconds was asleep so resolute was his ;

own self-command, and so meekly did wayward thought,

even when most rampant, obey him when he gave the order.
He slept his appointed hour. He woke, and indulged him-
self in pleasant memories. He went down to the bayou.
The moccason-tracks of Inez's little foot were not yet all

erased. He crept out upon the log of cottonwood ; he

peeped through the opening in the underbrush. He came
back to the false trail which she had followed. He worked
along in theeffort to reproduce her wanderings. As night
closed he tried to fancy that he was where the girl was ;
in,

and he paced up and down fifty times, as he indulged hirnself

in the memory of her courage. Then he came up to his
post, took the altitude of the North Star, and of Algol and
Deneb, as the captain had bidden him. By the light of his
camp-fire he made an entry in his journal longer than usual.
Let it be not written here whether there were there, or were
not, a few halting verses, between the altitude of Mizar and
that of Deneb.
202 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

Before ten o'clock the fire was burning low, and the fear-
less commander was dreaming of Inez and of home.
But it is not every night that passes so smoothly for him ;
and it is not every evening that he can write verses or enter
altitudes so serenely.
The next day, with no guide, —
and, indeed, needing none
but the indications of an Indian trail, —
the brave fellow
worked his way prosperously toward his chief ; and at night,
afterhe had taken his altitudes, and written up his journal,
he lay by his camp-fire again, with the well-pleased hope that
two or three more such days might bring him to the captain.
At the outside, five would be enough, unless all plans were
changed. On such thoughts he slept.
He woke to find his hands tightly held, to hear the —
grunts and commands of two stout Comanches who held
him, —
to struggle to his feet between them, with daylight
enough to see that he was in the power of a dozen of them.
His packs were already open, and were surrounded by the
hungry and thirsty cormorants. One was draining his
whiskey-flask. Two or three wer6 trying experiments with
his sextant. The
chief of the party had already appropri-
ated his and as Harrod turned to look for the precious
rifle ;

pack, on which his head had rested, he saw that that also
was in the hands of the savages, and that one of them was
already fighting with another on the questions which should
be possessor of a cigar-case, and which should be satisfied
with the diary.
This misfortune of the young Kentuckian will explain to
the reader what was a mystery to Philip Nolan when he
wrote the letter which we have read, — why Harrod and the
rest had not rejoined him within a fortnight, more or less,

after he had received their letters by Blackburn.

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 203

CHAPTER XIX,

THE WARNING.

" Before the clerk must bend

Full many a warrior grim,
And to the comer wend,
Although it please not him."
Heinrich Knaust.

Philip Nolan's letter to Eunice had not reached her on

that morning in March when Ma-ry had sent away the joint
letter to him, of whose fate the reader has been apprised.
He had no prizes to offer to the Carankawa squaw to whom
he intrusted it ; and her occasions of travel were so varied,
and her encampments were so long, that it was many months
before Eunice Perry received it.

She was one of the Indios reducidos, — that the Indians

is,

who could make the sign of the cross, — and not one the of
Indios bravos, who were redskins without that accomplish-
ment. But her " reduction " had not yet brought her to that
more difficult stage of religion in which people tell tiae truth,
or do what they promise to do.
Meanwhile the winter wore away, —
not unpleasantly to
the young leader and his party. He had characterized them
fitly enough in that letter. They could fight over their cards
as hotly as they would have fought for a king's crown ; and
the next day, in the wild adventures of the chase, the man
who had, the last night, sworn deadly vengeance because a
two of clubs was not an ace, would risk his life freely V:) save
204 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

the man whom he had then threatened. The moon of cold

meat, as the Indians call the tenth month from March, crept
byj and through the month the young hunters had no lack of
hot supplies every night. The moon of chestnuts followed ;

and they were not reduced to roasted chestnuts. The moon

of walnuts followed ; and they had walnuts enough, but they
had much more. They hunted well, they slept well, they
woke with the sun. They hardly tired of this life of adven-
ture but they were all in readiness, so soon as the spring
;

flood should a little subside, to take up their line of march

with their frisky wealth to Natchitoches and Orleans.
All fears of the Spanish outposts had long since died away.
The only question which ever amazed the camp was the ques-
tion which the last chapter solved for the reader, —
what had
become of Harrod and of his companions? There was not a
man of them who really liked Richards ; but they knew noth-
ing to make them distrust King and Adams ; and of course
every man knew that William Harrod was another Philip
Nolan.
Things were in this pass, when, as they returned from the
day's hunting to the corral one afternoon, they found sitting
by the cooks, the home-guard, and the camp-fire, the five
Indians of whom Crooked Feather was the spokesman,
whom the reader saw last when they left the Guadaloupe
River five days before, with such benediction as the Francis-
can fathers had given them.
Crooked Feather rose at once, laid aside his pipe, and pre-
sented to Nolan a little silver-mounted hunting-whip, with an
address which Nolan scarcely understood. The man spoke
rapidly, and with much excitement.
Nolan controlled him a little, by praising him and the
whip, and giving his hand freely to every member of the red
party, and then persuaded Crooked Feather to begin again.
He asked him to speak slowly, explaining that, while his heart
was right to the Twowokanies, his ears were somewhat deal
when he heard their language.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 205

Crooked Feather began again, and this time with gesture

enough to make clear his words. Nolan immediately called
Blackburn and by an easy movement he led the Indian away
;

from the other men, who were already hobnobbing with the
redskins of lesser rank or lesser volubility.
"Blackburn, see and hear what he says. He gives me
from old Ransom. Ransom is no fool, as
this riding-switch
you know, Blackburn ; and this means simply that he thinks
we should be going, and going quickly. The man left An-
tonio onlyon Tuesday he saw the ladies Monday ; and early
;

Tuesday morning Ransom came with that girl they call the
White Hawk, bade him bring me this whip, and promised
him no end of plunder if he returned in twelve days. Now,
they had some reason for sending the redskins."
"They have sent something besides the whip," said Black-
burn ;and he turned to the impassive Crooked Feather, and
with equal impassivity said to him, " Give me what else the
young squaw sent to you."
Then for the first time, and as if he had forgotten it, or as
if it were a trifle among braves, the Crooked Feather crossed

to his packs, loosened and brought to the others the parcel

of skins, dusty and defaced by the journey.
" Crooked Feather brought these skins also. There are
six skins, which the white squaw, whom the white-head
father took from the Apaches, sends to the chief of the long-
knives."
" You lie
!
" said Blackburn, as impassive as before, and
with as little sign of displeasure. " There are but five skins.
The Crooked Feather has stolen one."
" There are six skins," said the savage, holding up one
hand, and one finger of the other ; and he explained that he
had liimself opened the parcel, counted the skins, aiid folded
diem again. He showed his own memorandum, an open —
hand in red, and a red finger, —
on the other side of the
outer skin.
Even the impassive face of an Indian gave way to a sur-
2o6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

prise which could hardly be feigned when he also counted

the skins, and there were but five.
" Perhaps he is lying, Blackburn ; but I think not. Do
not let the other boys hear you, but go and talk with the
other redskins, and find out what you can. I will play with
him here. You see. Ransom never sent that bale of skins
all the way here with nothing in it. Bring me our long pipe
first."

Blackburn brought the pipe, lighted. Nolan spread one of

the skins, and invited Crooked Feather to sit on it. He sat
on another himself. He threw one on his knees. He threw
another on the Feather's knees. He drew a few whiffs of
smoke, and gave the pipe to the other. They renewed this
ceremony three or four times. Then Nolan opened his pri-
vate flask of whiskey, and drank from it. He offered it to the
other, who did the same, not with the same moderation which
his host had shown. After these ceremonies, the white man
said gravely, without even looking the other in the face, —
"The white squaw and the gray-haired chief gave to my
brother another token. I am ready to receive that from the
Crooked Feather."
The Crooked Feather, who had till this moment conceived
the hope that he might retain the little prayer-book for a
medicine and benediction for himself and his line forever,
gave way at the moment, took it from his pouch, and gave it
to Nolan.
"The chief of the long-knives says well. The old chief
and the white squaw gave me this medicine for the chief of
the long-knives."
Nolan cut, only too eagerly, the thongs which bound the
missal-book, and opened it. He wholly concealed his sur-
prise when he saw what it was. Rapidly he turned every
page to make sure that no note was concealed within them.
He placed it in his own pouch, drew three more whiffs from
the pipe, and waited till the Crooked Feather did the same.

He pretended to drink from the flask again ; and the Feather

did so, without pretence or disguise.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 207

Nolan then said, —

" The white squaw and the white chief gave my brother
another medicine. They gave him a white medicine, like
the bark of a canoe-birch folded."
He looked, as he spoke, at a distant tree, as though there
were no Crooked Feather in the world.
Crooked Feather, looking also across at the camp-fire, as
though there were no Nolan in the world, said, —
" The chief of the long-knives lies. I have given to him
all the tokens and all the medicines which the white squaw
gave me, or the white-haired white chief. Let the chief of
the long-knives give his token to the Crooked Feather. The
Crooked Feather will give it to the white squaw before seven
suns have set. The white squaw will give the Crooked
Feather more sugar than a bear can eat in a day."
This dream of heaven was put in words without a gesture
or a smile.
"It is well," said Nolan quietly. "Let us come to the
camp-fire. The Crooked Feather has ridden far to-day. My
young men have tUrkey-meat and deer-meat waiting for him."
They parted at the fire, and in a moment more Nolan was
in consultation with Blackburn.
Blackburn told him what he had drawn from the others
withoutdifficulty. They had confirmed all that the Crooked
Feather had said. They had added what he would have
'

added had he been asked the history of their march. In the

firstplace, they knew nothing of Harrod or of the other lost
men. They had not long been camping by Antonio, nor had
they any knowledge of the existence of such a party as his.
In the second place, they had carefully described Miss
Eunice, Miss Inez, the White Hawk, and Ransom, with pre-
cision of details such as none but Indians would be capable
of. There could be no doubt, in the mind of either Nolan or
Blackburn, that on the very last Tuesday they had left their
camp by the river, and had started with the parcel of furs,
the packet, and the riding-whip. That the parcel contained
2o8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

six skinswhen they started, Blackburn was sure. The men

all They had opened it, and counted them. Nor
said so.
did they even now know that its tale was not full. Black-
burn was if Crooked Feather had tampered with it,
sure, that,
they had not. Nolan was equally sure that the chief had
not. He had, indeed, no motive to do so. His only object
must be to discharge his mission thoroughly, if he discharged
it at all. Had he wanted to steal a wretched antelope-skin,
why, he would ha ire stolen the whole pack.
Blackburn thought he gave more light when he told his
chief the story of the encampment by the Guadaloupe River j
and here Nolan was at one with him. If a Franciscan
father plied them all with brandy, he had his reasons. If
he plied them with brandy, they all slept soundly, and kept
no watch that night. If he were curious about their enter-
prise, he would inform himself of it.
" Blackburn, on the other skin there was a picture-writing
which told us just what we want to know."
" That's what I say too," said Blackburn promptly.
" Blackburn, in this parcel, with this little prayer-book,
was a note which told us just what we want to know."
" That's what I say."
" And that fellow with a long brown nightgown, tied up
with a halter round his waist, has got it."

So saying, Nolan for the last time turned over the book
of hours, and Blackburn turned to leave his pensive chief.
" Halloo Blackburn, come back
!
1

And Nolan led him to a secluded shelter, where they

were out of ear-shot or eye-shot.
" See here, and here, and here, and here " and he pointed ;

one by one to the four ornamented pages of the prayer-book.

" Miss Perry was as much afraid of these nightgown men
as I am. She has sent her message in writing they do not
learn at Rome."
Sure enough : in miniature work quite as elegant as many
a priest has wrought in, Eunice had substituted for the
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 209

original illustrations of the book a series on vellum which

much better answered her present purpose. The pictures
were all Bible pictures ; and the
were drawn in the figures
quaint style of the original. But every scene was a scene
of parting, and illustrated the beginning of a retreat.
Here was Abraham going up out of Egypt, very rich in
[Link] to say, the cattle were all horses, and in
Abraham's turban was a long cardinal feather. " Do you
remember, Blackburn, the feather I wore the day I bade the
'**
ladies good-by ?

Then here was Lot and his troop turning their backs on
the plain. Once more the preponderance of horses was
remarkable ; and once more a brilliant red feather waved in
Lot's helmet.
Blackburn began to be interested. The next picture was
of Gideon crossing the Jordan in his retreat. There were
spoils of the Midianites, and especially horses ; and in
Gideon's head waved still the red feather.
By and by Ezra appeared, leading the Israelites over the
Euphrates. Horses again outnumbered all the cattle, and
Ezra again wore a red feather ; but the chief next to Ezra,
just of his height and figure, wore a crest of fur.
" See there, Blackburn She thinks Harrod is here
!

That is his squirrel-tail."

They turned on, but there were no more pictures. Both
men looked back upon these four; and it was then that
Nolan's eye caught the figures in black-letter at the bottom
of the first, —
IBxolr. xit. 31 , 32 ; IBeut. ii, 9.

" Halloo, Blackburn ! what is this? " cried he. " There is

nothing about Abraham in Deuteronomy, nor in Exodus

either."
In a moment Blackburn had brought to his chief, from a
box at the head of his sleeping-bunk, the Bible which
little

accompanied him in his journeys. A moment more had

found the warning texts, —
2IO PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;
" Rise up, and get you forth from among my people, both ye and the
children of Israel ; and go, serve the Lord as ye have said.
" Also take your flocks and your herds, as ye have said, and be gone
and bless me also."

" And the Lord said unto me, Distress not the Moabites, neither con-
tend with them in battle ; for I will not give thee of their land for a pos-

session."

Nolan read aloud to Blackburn ; and then, as he looked

for more messages, he said, —
" It is all of a piece with old Ransom's token. The^
think the country is too hot for us, and they mean to put us
on our guard. See, Blackburn, what comes next."
Under Lot and his party were the letters, —
SDsfr- ii. li 2.

" Lucky the Franciscan blackleg did not know Lot was not
cousin of Joshua," growled Nolan.
He turned up the text to read, —
" And It came to pass when all the kings which were on this side Jor-
dan, in the hills, and in the valleys, . . . heard thereof ;

" That they gathered themselves together, to fight with Joshua and with
Israel, with one accord."

Under the next pictures were the letters, —

3ulJs. li. 17.

And the interpretation proved to be, —

" Then Israel sent messengers unto the king of Edom, saying, Let me,
I pray thee, pass through thy land ; but the king of Edom would not
hearken thereto."

" This is plain talk, Blackburn," said the chief after a

moment's pause.
" Yes, captain ; and do you see ? " —
The man took the book carefully from his chief, and
showed him, far in the distance of each picture of the four,
a three-domed cathedral with three crosses.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 211

" Them's the crosses of Chihuahua ; I've heard on 'em

"
hundreds of times. Has not thee, captain ?

" Heard of them

I have seen them.
! You are right,
Blackburn. from Chihuahua that our enemy is coming,
It is
and from Chihuahua that we must look for him. Now what
"
is this ?

And he turned once more to the picture of Ezra with his

cardinal. The warning texts were, —
lEjra ijttt. to ; 3Exoli. iii. 8.

" And of the sons of Shelomith ; the son of Josiphiah, and with him
an hundred and threescore males."

" I do not care what his

name is, Blackburn ; but, if he has
a hundred and sixty Spanish lancers of the male sort after
him, they are too many for us. What is her other text ? "

"And it shall come to pass, if they will not believe thee, neither
hearken to the voice of the first sign, that they will believe the voice of
the latter sign."

" I should think so," said Nolan sadly or dully, as Black-

burn might choose to think. " I should think so, unless they
wanted to be marched, every man of them, into the mines at
New Mexico.
"Blackburn, an hour after sunrise to-morrow we will be
gone."
" I say so too," replied the subordinate, by no means ill

pleased.
" Get the redskins well oil to-night. We will say nothing
to the boys till they are well gone."
Accordingly a grand farewell feast was improvised for
Crooked Feather. The very, scanty stores of whiskey which
were left in the hunters' provisions were largely drawn upon,
A pipe of peace was smoked ; and Crooked Feather and his
men were started on their return with haste which might have
have seemed suspicious, had they been more sober.
212 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Perhapsit seemed suspicious as it was.

Crooked Feather bore with him the " medicine-paper

which he coveted, the display of which to White Hawk, to
the white-haired chief, or to the white lady, to either or to
all, would produce the much-coveted and well-earned sugar.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 213

CHAPTER XX.

A TERTULIA.

" Come to onrfite, and bring with thee

Thy newest, best embroidery
Bring thy best lace, and bring thy rings
Bring, child, in short, thy prettiest things."
After Moore.

Crooked Feather was not false to his promise ; and on

this occasionhe met neither medicine-man nor ghostly father
to hinder him on his way. On the thirteenth day from that
on which he started, he came in sight of the crosses of An-
tonio. He found his own party encamped not far distant
from the place where he had left them. No sign of surprise
or affection greeted the return of the party. They swung
themselves sullenly from their horses, and gave them to the
care of the women. Crooked Feather satisfied himself that
neither of the three whites who were authorized to receive
his token had come out to meet him. He was too taciturn
and too proud to confess his disappointment, for disap- —
pointment he really felt. He solaced himself by devouring
a bit of the mesquit, —
a rabbit which he tore limb from limb
with his fingers. He then bade his wife bring out another
horse and, without his companions this time, he rode into
;

the Presidio with his token.

He gave a wide berth to every man who wore a black coat
or cassock. His memories of the headache which followed
his last debauch were too fresh, and the shame he felt at
214 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

being outwitted by the scalped fathers was too great, for him
to trust himself to such guides again.
Lounging in part of Major Barelo's quarters, he found old
Ransom.
"Back agen, be ye?" said the old man with undisguised
surprise. " Come into the yard with me. Yarg Go ask the !

Senora Perry if she will have the kindness to come down."

The savage swung himself from his beast ; and Ransom
bade an attendant idler secure him, while he led Crooked'
Feather into the more private courtyard. In a minute Eunice
appeared. The two girls were not with her.
No interpreter was needed, however. The savage was too
eager to be well done with his disagreeable expedition. In a
moment he produced the tobacco-pouch which Nolan had
given him. In a moment more Ransom had found tlie
secret of its fastening, and had opened it. In a moment
more Eunice had torn open the letter, and had read it.

Philip Nolan to Eunice Perry.

March 21.
Thank you a thousand times for your warning. Fortunately you are
in time. A rascally priest stole your letter,
and whatever was on an ante-
lope-skin. have the prayer-book, and I have Ransom's whip.
But I
Thank the old fellow for us. We are off before daylight ; and I send this
red-skin off now, that he may not see our trail. Good-by, and God bless
you all 1

p. N.

" God be praised, indeed !

" said Eunice, as she read the
letter a second time, this time reading aloud to Ransom, but
in her lowest tones, that not even the walls might hear.
"God be praised This is good news indeed.
! See the
man has his sugar, Ransom " and then she turned, gave
; her
hand to the savage, smiled, and thanked him. With a mo-
ment more she was in her own room, and had summoned the
two girls to share her delight and triumph.
The letter was read to Inez, and it was translated to the
White Hawk. Then Inez took it, and read it herself, and
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 215

turned it most carefully over. It was only after a pause that

she said, " Are you sure there was no other letter, that there
was nothing more ? " And then Eunice wondered too, and
sent to recall Ransom. There might have been something
else in the tobacco-pouch.
No ! there was nothing more in the tobacco-pouch. Inez
even clipped out the lining of it There
with her scissors.
was nothing more there ; there had been nothing more
there.
None the less was Inez resolved that she would ride out
with the White Hawk the next morning, and have an inter-
view with the Crooked Feather. The Crooked Feather
could, at the least, tell whom he had -found at the encamp-
ment.
And then the three ladies began their preparations for the
tertulia of the evening, with more animation and joyfulness
than they had felt for many, many days.
" What in the world shall I say to your horrible Mr. Lons-
dale, aunt, if he should take it into his grave old island head
"
to ask me what makes me so happy ?

" What, indeed ? " said Eunice. " We must not tell him
any lies. You must change the subject bravely. You must
ask him what are the favorite dances in London."
" Eunice, I will ask him if his old Queen Charlotte dances
the bolero. I will. I should like to show him that I know
him perfectly well, and through and through."
" I wish I did," said Eunice, stopping in her toilet, and
looking at Inez almost anxiously.
" Wish you did? Then I will tell you in one minute. He
is a hateful old spy of a hateful old king. And what he is

here do not see. What was the use of our beating the
for, I

redcoats and Hessians all out of our country, if, after it is

all over, we are to have these spies coming back to look

round and see if they have not forgotten something ?

" Don't talk too loud, pussy," said her aunt, taking up the
comb again. " What would Gen. Herrara say it he heard
2i6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

you call this your country, and if you told him you thought
he ought to turn all travelling Englishmen out of it ? "
" Travelling fiddlesticks " cried the impetuous girl. " Do
!

you tell me that an English gentleman, like dear Sir Charles

Grandison, who was a gentleman, has nothing better to do
than to cross the oceaii and come all the way up to this
corner of the world to pay his respects to the Senora Valois,
and to dance a minuet with me ?
" He might be worse employed, I think," said Aunt Eunice,
catching and kissing the impetuous girl, whose cheeks glowed
as her eyes blazed with her excitement ; " and I believe dear
Sir Charles's grandson would say so too, if he were here.
Come, come, come Mary is wondering what you are storm-
!

ing about, and all your pantomime will never explain to her.
Come, come, come How nice it is to be able to go to a
!

party without setting foot out of doors !

"

It was indeed true, that, by one of the corridor or cloister

arrangements which gave a certain Moorish aspect to the
little military station, there was a passage, quite " practica-

ble," through which, without putting foot to the earth, the

three ladies passed to the saloons of Madame .de Valois,
where the brilliant party of the evening was [Link]
home of this lady was Chihuahua ; but, fortu-
in the city of
nately for our ladies, in this eventful winter she was making
a long visit at San Antonio. She had chosen this evening
to give a brilliant party, by way of returning the civilities
which she had received from the ladies of the Presidio.
All three of the American ladies were welcomed with
cordial and even enthusiastic courtesy. The White Hawk
was quite used, by this time, to the pretty French dresses in
which Inez was so fond of arraying her. She could speak
but little English, less French, and still less Spanish ; and
she could dance but little English, less French, and less
Spanish. But the minuet, as has been intimated, was the
common property of the world ; and Inez had spent time
enough in" compelling Ma-ry to master its intricacies, to be
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 217

rewarded by no small measure of success. She said, herself,

that Ma-ry's mistakes were as pretty as other people's vic-
tories. For the rest, in all civilizations, the language of the
ballroom requires but a limited vocabulary, so there be only
fans and eyes to supply the place of words.
Inez had not been wrong in suspecting that she should
come to a trial of wits with Mr. Lonsdale. " See what he
will get out of me," she whispered disdainfully to her aunt,
as Mr. Lonsdale was seen bearing down to cut her out from
the protection of Miss Perry's batteries.
" And what is your news from home. Miss Inez ?

This was his first question after they had taken their places
for the dance.
"Oh, we feel that we bring home with us ! It would be
quite home were only papa here, and my brother."
Thus did Inez reply.
" Indeed, you are more fortunate than the rest of us. We
cannot carry our household gods with us so easily."
Inez bit her lip that she need not say, " Why do you come
at allif you do not like to be here ? " But she said nothing.
Mr. Lonsdale had to begin agaio, —
a thing which was
then, as it is now, difficult to men of his nation engaged in
conversation.
" I meant to ask what is your news from the United States.
Is Mr. Jefferson the President? or does President Adams
"
continue for another term of office ?
Inez was indignant with the man, because he had not in
any way thrown himself open to her repartee. The question
was perfectly proper, perfectly harmless ; and it was one,
alas which she could not answer.
!

" I did not know what to say to him," she said afterward
to her aunt. " So I told him the truth."
What she did say was this :
—
" I do not know, and I wish I did, Mr. Lonsdale."
" And which candidate do you vote for. Miss Perry ?
" The hateful creature !
" This was Inez's inward ejacu-
2i8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

lation. " He means to draw out of me the material for his

next despatch to the tyrant. Sooner shall he draw out my
tongue, or my heart itself from my bosom."
Fortunately, however, it would have been difficult for Inez

to tell which her predilections were. She answered, still with

the craft of honesty, —
"Oh, papa thinks President Adams is too hard on our
French friends. For me, I am a Massachusetts girl, and I
cannot bear to have a Massachusetts president defeated ; and
then, Mr. Lonsdale, Col. Freeman says that Col. Burr is a
very handsome man, and a very gallant soldier. He fought
at Monmouth, Mr. Lonsdale did you see him there, perhaps ?
:

And here the impudent girl looked up maliciously, well

satisfied that she had in one word implied that Lonsdale was
at least forty years old, and that he had turned his back in
battle.
He was well pleased, on his part, and amused with the
rencontre.
"I did not see him at Monmouth," he said, with more
animation than she had ever seen him show before. " I do
not remember I had not begun my diary then. I think I
:

must have been knocking ring-taws against an old brick wall

we had in the garden. But I have seen Col. Burr. I have
seen him take Miss Schuyler down the dance, and he did
dance very elegantly. Miss Perry."
" Pray where was that " said Inez ; and then she was
."

enraged with herself, that she should have betrayed any

interest in the spy's conversation.
" Oh 1 it was at a very brilliant party in New York. Col.
Burr seemed to me tobe a favorite among ladies, and I see
you think so too. But I think that even in America they
have no votes."
" I was even with him, auntie. I said that in New Jersey
tliey had votes, and that Col. Burr came from New Jersey."
" You little goose " said Eunice, when Inez made this
!

confession. " What in the world had that to do with it ? "

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 219

"Well, auntie, it had nothing to do with it; but it was

very important to prove that Mr. Lonsdale was always in the
wrong."
And in such a spirit Miss Inez's conversation with poor
Lonsdale went forward, till this particular dance was done.
The pretty and lively girl was demanded by other partners
and she had, indeed, wasted quite as much of her wit, not to
say of her impertinence, as she chose, upon the man whom
she called a " British spy," and who, let it be confessed,
added to other mortal sins that of being at least three and
thirty years of age, and that of dancing as badly as the First
Consul himself. Inez did not pretend to disguise her satis-
faction, as he led her back to her duenna, and she was per-
mitted to give her hand to some ensign of two and twenty.
Lonsdale turned, amused more than discomfited, to Eunice.
" Miss Perry will not forgive me for the sin of sins."
" And what is that ? " said Eunice, laughing.
" Oh, you know very well The sin of sins is, that I am
!

bom the subject of King George, and that at her behest I do

not renounce all allegiance to him, whenever I pray to be
delivered from all the snares of the Devil."
Eunice laughed again.
" I hope you pardon something to the spirit of a girl who
is born under a sceptre much more heavy than that of the
'
best of kings.'
Lonsdale might take " best of kings " as he chose. It was
the cant phrase by which King George was called by poets-
laureate and others of their kidney, till a time long after this.
" Oh ! I can pardon any thing to seventeen, when seven-
teen is as frank, not to say as piquant, as it is yonder. Miss
Inez does not let her admirers complain of her insincerity."
" No She has faults enough, I suppose ; though I love her
!

too well to judge her harshly enough, I know. But, among

those faults, no one would count a want of frankness."
" Still," said Lonsdale, hesitating now, and approaching
his subject with an Englishman's rather clumsy determina
220 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

tion to say the thing he hates to say, and to be done with it,
" seems to me a little queer that Miss Inez can forgive
still it

all enemies save those of her own blood. After all, it is

English blood ; her language is the English language, and her
faitli is the English faith. Why should she speak to an Eng-
lishman with a bitterness with which no French girl speaks,
and no Spanish girl ? We have fought the French, and we
have fought the Spaniards, harder and longer than we ever
fought your people ; and I may say," said he, laughing now,
" we have punished them worse."
." Oh Mr. Lonsdale,'' said Eunice, who would gladly have
!

parried a subject so delicate, " do not be so sensitive. Par-

don something to sweet seventeen,' and something to the'
'

exaggeration of a girl who has never set foot in her own

country."
" What do you mean ?
" I mean that this poor child is an exaggerated American.

She was born under the flag of Spain. She has heard of the
excellences of Washington and Adams and Franklin. She
has never seen the littlenesses of their countrymen. She has
heard of the trials of her father's friends. She has never
seen the pettiness of daily politics. She wants to show her
patriotism somewhere, and she shows it by her raillery of an
Englishman. I trust, indeed, that she has not been rude,
Mr. Lonsdale."
" Indeed, indeed, your pupil does you all credit and honor,
Miss Perry. Miss Inez could not be rude, be assured. But
it is not of her only that I am speaking. Remember, — nay,
you do not know, —
but I have met your fair countrywomen
in their homes, in Boston, in New York, in Philadelphia. I

have met them, I have danced with them, as with Miss Inez
on this outpost. Always it is the same. Always courtesy, —
hospitality if you please, —
but always defiance. France,
Spain, poor Portugal even, —
nay, a stray Dutchman, they —
—
welcome cordially. But an Englishman, because bespeaks
their language, is it? —
because he prays to God, and not
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 221

to God's mother, is it?" — and this Lonsdale said rever-

ently, — " an Englishman must be taught, between two move-
ments of the minuet, that George III. is the worst of tyrants,
and that a red coat is the disguise of a monster. Why is
this, Miss Perry ? As I say, no French girl speaks s© to an
English traveller no Spanish girl speaks so. Yet our arms
:

have triumphed over France and Spain ; and hear me —

confess it —
they have been humbled, as they never were
humbled elsewhere, by our own children. Is that any
reason why our children should hate us ?

It was a pretty sight to see Eunice Perry look now timid,

and now brave. It was a pretty sight to see her look him
full in the face, and then look down upon the ground without

speaking. She tried to speak, and she stopped. She hesi-

tated once and again. Then, after a flush, the blood wholly
left her cheek. But she looked him square in the eye, and
said, —
" You are frank with me, Mr. Lonsdale : let me be frank
with you. Surely I can be frank, — it is best that I should
be. For it is not of you that I speak : it is of your country,
or of your king. Will you remember, then, that you intro-
duced this subject, and not I ? "
Lonsdale was startled by her seriousness, though he had
been serious. But he said, —
" Certainly, certainly pray say what is on your heart.
:

Whatever you say, I deserve. You parried my questions as

long as you could."
" Surely I did. The conversation is none of my seeking,"
said Eunice, really proudly.
Then she paused, and looked again upon the ground ; but,
when she had collected herself,' she looked him fairly in the
face, as before.
"Mr. Lonsdale, when you fight France, you fight her
; when you fought Spain, you fought her armies.
navies No
French girl has seen an English soldier on French soil since

Cressy and Agincourt. But, when you fought us, you fought
222 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

US in our homes. Nay, where we had no armies, your cruisers

and squadrons could easily land soldiers on our shores, and
did. Where we had no forts, it was easiest to burn our
villages. From Falmouth (you do not know where Falmouth
is), to Savannah (you. do not know where that is), there are

not fifty miles of our coast where an English cruiser or an

English fleet has not landed English troops. There is not a
region of my country fifty miles wide, but has seen an inroad
of marauding English seamen or soldiers. Your journals
laughed at your admirals for campaigns which ended in steal-
ing sheep. But, Mr. Lonsdale, because my father's sheep
were stolen by Admiral Graves's fleet, I, who talk with you,
have walked barefoot with these feet for twelve months at a
time in my girlhood. Nay, Mr. Lonsdale, I have seen my
mother's ears bleeding, because an English marine dragged
her ear-rings from her ears. What French girl lives who
can tell you such a story ? —
what Spanish girl ? There is
not a county in America, but a thousand girls, whom you
meet as you meet Inez, could tell you such ; would tell you
such, but that our nations are now, thank God ! at peace,
and you have come among them as a stranger who is a friend.
They do not tell the story. It is only I who tell the story.
But they remember the thing. Pardon me, Mr. Lonsdale. I
did not want to say this ; and yet perhaps it is better that it
is said."
"Better!" said the Englishman; "a thousand times better.

It is the truth. And really —

would not,
I —
really, you

know, — I would not, I could not, have pressed, had I thought

for a moment that I should give you pain."
" I am quite sure of that," said Eunice simply ; and, with
an effort, she changed the subject. But, after a beginning
like this, the Englishman could not, even if he would, bring
round her talk to the subject of Philip Nolan and his hunters.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 223

CHAPTER XXL
THE MAN I HATE.

" But Wisdom, peevish and cross-grained,

Must be opposed to be sustained."
Matt. Prior.

But Inez had no chance for further colloquy with her

aunt that evening. And, when they came home from the
little ball, perhaps Inez was tired, perhaps her aunt was
tired. Inez was conscious that she was cross
; and she felt

Aunt Eunice was reserved and not communicative.

sure that
The next morning she attacked her to find out what she
had learned from the mysterious Englishman ; the spy, as
she persevered in calling him.
" Is he Blount, dear aunt ? I have felt so sure that he

was Blount under a name. I suppose he has a new

false
name for every country he goes into, and every time he
changes his coat. I only wish I had called him Mr. Blount,' '

to see the color come for once on those sallow cheeks. I

"
mean to teach Mary to call him Blount'
'

" Nonsense, child you have not the least idea of what
!

you are talking about. Mr. Blount is dead, in the first place :'

he died last spring. In the second place, and in the third

place, he was not an Englishman at all: he was a Ten-
nessee senator." She dropped her voice, even in their own
room, and said, " Capt. Phil told me his father knew him."
Miss Inez was a little put down by this firstly, secondly,
and thirdly. But she came to the charge again. " Well, I
az* PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

was only a girl, and I did not understand politics. I thought

that Blount was a sort of English spy, and I know this man
is."

Eunice took the magisterial or duennaish manner ; and

the White Hawk looked from the one to the other, wonder-
ing why Inez was so much excited, and why Eunice seemed
so grave.
" Dear Inez," said her aunt, " the Senate of the United
States thought, or said they thought, that Mr. Blount was
mixed up in a plot which King George's people had for
getting back the whole of our region I mean of the Amer- —
ican shore of the Mississippi — to the English. And they
punished him for it. And he died. And that is the end of
Mr. Blount."
" What a provoking old aunt you are Of course I do 1

not care whether his name is Blount, or what it is, so long as

I am sure that it never was Lonsdale till he landed in Mex-
ico. I am sure I used to hear no end of talk about Mr.
Blount ; and —
and —
I have it —
it was Capt. Chisholm,

aunt. There " And the girl jumped up, and performed an
1

Apache war-dance with the White Hawk, in token that she

had now rightly detected the name of her enemy.
"You look as if you could scalp him, Inez. Take care,

or White Hawk will."

" Scalp him scalping
! is too good for him, dear aunt. I

could scalp him beautifully. Let me show you." And she

flew at poor Aunt Eunice on the moment, seized from her
luxuriant hair a pretty gold stiletto on which it was Wound,
gathered the rich curls up in her own left hand, and then,
waving the stiletto above her head, with a perfect war-cry,
afEected to plunge it into the offending chevelure. The
White Hawk laughed in a most un-Indian way ; and poor
Eunice fought valiantly to liberate herself.
When peace was restored, by a ransom on both sides of a
few kisses, Inez flung herself on the floor, and said,
" Respectable lady, will you tell me now what was your
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 225

conversation. with Capt. Chisholm, now disguised in this

presidio under the fictitious name of Lonsdale, called an
alias to procurators and counsel learned in the law ; other-
wise known as '
The Man
I Hate ? " And she waved the
'

stiletto again wildly above her head.

" My dear pussy, Mr. Lonsdale is no more a soldier than
you are ; and I do not believe he ever heard of Capt. Chis-
holm. When he goes to Orleans they will talk to him about
those things perhaps ; but in England they were as much
secrets as they are here."
" About what things, dear aunt ? " said Inez, as serious
now as she had been outrageous.
" About that foolish plan of the governor of Canada to
pick up the stitches they dropped when they lost the Missis-
sippi River. It was all a bold intrigue of the people in
Canada, who probably had some instructions from London,
or perhaps only asked for some. But there were not ten
men in England who ever heard of the plan. The governor
of Canada sent this Capt. Chisholm through to us, to see
what could be done. And some foolish people fell into the
plot : that is all."
" And Mr. Lonsdale the spy, otherwise known as '
The
Man I Hate,' " — these words
were accompanied as before
by the brandishing of the stiletto, —
" has been sent again on
just the same errand. Only this time he begins at Vera Cruz
and Mexico. He travels north by Monterey and Monteclo-
vez. He pretends to be interested in volcanoes and botany
and in butterflies. He makes weak little water-color pictures,
almost as bad as mine, of the ruins of Tlascala and Cholula.
All this is a mask, a vain and useless mask, to disguise him
from my eyes and those of my countrymen. But see how
vain is falsehood before truth ! The moment he looks me in
the face, the mean disguise falls off, and~ the spy appears.
Another Andrd, another Arnold, stands before me, in the
"
presence of '
The Man I Hate.'
. " How did you find him out ? " asked Eunice, laughing.
226 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" First, Mme. Malgares was a hidalgo of the

said that he
highest rank at King George's he was a duke of
court, that
the blue blood, and that Lonsdale was only the name by
which he travels incognito."
" But it is. not a week since you told me that Mme. Mal-
gares was a fool. I do not believe English princes of the
blood travel incognito in the heart of Mexico."
" Mme. Malgares may be a fool," said little Inez wisely
" but none the less may an acute and adroit man, who has
even deceived Miss Eunice Perry, have dropped his guard
when he spoke to her."
Inez was, however, a little annoyed by her aunt's retort,
and she tried her second reason.
" Second, his talk of butterflies and of flowers is not the
talk of a virtuoso, noreven of an artist. It is assumed."
Here she waved the dagger again. " He talks with interest
when he drops his voice, when he inquires about President
Adams, or Mr. Jefferson, about Capt. Nolan, or " —
" Heigh-ho " and her animation was at an end ; and, poor
!

girl, she really looked sad and pale.

" About whom ? " said Eunice thoughtlessly.
But Inez was not to be caught.
" I wish I knew who was president. What a shame it

should take so long for news to come, when we came so

quickly ! Why, I dare say Roland knows, and papa ; and
we know nothing."
But Eunice Perry was not deceived by Inez's change of
subject. She was as much surprised as^nez was, that they
had no message nor token from William Harrod ; and she
was quite as anxious about Philip Nolan, too, as her niece
-^
could be.
Meanwhile, at the moment when* the ladies were discussing
Mr. Lonsdale so coolly, he was trying to take old Ransom's
measure. With or without an object of pressing his inquiries,
he had walked out to the stables to have the personal assur-
ance which every good traveller needs, that the horses which
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 227

had brought him all the way from Mexico, and were to carry
him farther on his journey, were well cared for. At the
stables he found, and was well pleased to find, old Ransom.
"Good-morning, Ransom," he said, half shyly and half
proudly. He spoke, unconsciously, with the " air of conde-
scension observable in some foreigners," and with an uncer-
tainty which was not unnatural as to whether Ransom were
or were not a servant.
The truth was, that Ransom was entitled to all the privi-
leges of a servant, and took all the privileges of a master.
He noticed Mr. Lonsdale's hesitation instantly, and from
that moment was master of the situation.
" Mornin', sir," was ; and then
his reply he went on in a
more languages, addressed to
curious objurgation, in four or
the half-breed who was currying Miss Inez's horse.
" They do not treat horses quite as we do," said Lonsdale,
trying to be condescending.
" Donno what you do to 'em," said Ransom enough:
civilly
" there's a good many ways to spile a horse. These here
Greasers knows most of 'em."
" Will you come into the stable,
. and look at my bay ? "
said Lonsdale artfully. " I do not like to trust him with
these fellows."
The old man understood that this was a bribe, as distinctly
as if Lonsdale had offered him half a crown. But no man is
beyond the reach of flattery, — as the old saw says, we are at
least pleased that we are worth flattering, — and he accom-
panied the Englishman into the other wing of the stable
buildings. Having given there such advice as seemed good,
he Lonsdale did, in the open courtyard.
loitered, as
" Is there any news from above ? " said the Englishman,
pointing incthe direction of the road up the river.
Ransom had not had time to determine on his answer.
He would have been glad to know what the ladies had told
Lonsdale. As he did not know, he fell ^acl^ prv his policy
of general distrust.
228 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

" Them redskins was back yesterday. All got so drunk

couldn't tell nothin'."
" I wish I could hear from Capt. Nolan," said Lonsdale,
— not as if he were asking a question.
" Needn't be troubled about him," said Ransom gloomily
" he'll take care of himself."
"I think he will," said the Englishman, with an easy
good-nature, which failed him as in meeting Ransom's
little

brevities, as when he met little Inez's impertinences, — "I

think he will. But I would be glad to know there was no
fighting."
Ransom said nothing.
The other waited a moment, and, finding that he should
draw nothing unless he gave something, risked something,
and said,
" Capt. Nolan has no better friend than I am. I never

saw him but I know he is an honorable gentleman. And I

;

do not want to see him and his country at a disadvantage

when they meet these idolaters and barbarians."
The words were such as he would not, perhaps, have used
in other circles. But they were not badly chosen. Certainly
they were not, considering that his first object was to detach

the old man from the policy of reserve. Ransom himself

had often called the priests " them idolaters " in his talk with
Miss Perry, with Inez, and even with the White Hawk, in —
faithful recollection of discourses early listened to from
Puritan pulpits. But not in Orleans, least of all in his
master's house, from his confreres in Capt
never even
Nolan's troop or with Harrod, had he heard the frank
expression of a dislike as hearty as his own.
His own grim smile stole over his face, not unobserved by
the Englishman.
"The truth is, Mr. Ransom," said Lonsdale, following his
advantage, " there are a plenty of reasons why your country
should make war with Spain, and why my country should
help you if you will let us. But, when that war comes, let it
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 229

be a war of armies and generals and fleets and admirals.

Do not let an honorable gentleman like Mr. Nolan be flung
away in a wilderness where nobody can help him."
He had said enough to change the whole current of Ran-
som's thought and plan. Wisely or not, Ransom took into
his favor a man who held such views as to the Spanish
monarchy. He inwardly cemented a treaty of peace with
Lonsdale, based on information which for years he had
carried in the recesses of a heart which never betrayed
confidence.
The well-informed American reader should not need to be
told, that not only through the West, but wherever there were
active young men in the American army, at that time, the
hope of " conquering or rescuing " Mexico —as the phrase
was — had found its way as among the probable or the
desirable futures of the American soldier. When Taylor and
Scott entered Mexico in triumph, in 1846, they were but
making those visions of glory which had excited Alexander
Hamilton and his friends nearly fifty years before. A curious
thing it is, among the revenges and revelations of history, that
Hamilton's great rival, Burr, blasted his own fame and ruined
his own life, by taking up the very plan and the very hope
which Hamilton had nursed with more reason, and, indeed,
with more hope of success, a few years before. Silas Perry
himself was not more interested in the plans of Miranda, the
South American adventurer, than was Alexander Hamilton.
And in Miranda's early schemes, as is well known, he relied
on the co-operation, not of undisciplined freebooters from the
American States, but of the American army under the direc-
tion of the American President. When, under President
Adams, that army was greatly enlarged, — when Washington
was placed at its head, with Hamilton for the first in com-
mand under him, — this army was not to act in ignoble sea-
board defences. It was recruited to be stationed at the posts
which have since become cities on the Ohio and the Missis-
sippi J and, when the moment came, Hamilton was to lead it
230 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

to Orleans, and,if God so ordered, to Mexico. " Only twenty

days inarch to San Antonio," says one of those early letters,
anticipating by a generation the days of Houston and David
Crockett.^
Of course all these plans were secrets of state. Not too
much of them is now to be found in the archives ofWash-
ington, or in the published correspondence. The War
Department was, very unfortunately, — or we very shall say,
conveniently?— burned, with contents, 1800. But no
its in
such could
secrets no such plans could be formed,
exist, with-
out correspondence — private indeed, more than success for
hung on the privacy — with the handful Americans of loyal
who lived in Orleans. They were, to the last drop of their
blood, interested to see such plans succeed. Their co-opera-
tion, so far as it could be rendered fairly, must be relied on
when the moment for action came. Oliver Pollock, already
spoken of in these pages, who had supplied powder to Fort
Pitt in those early days of Washington's battles, when pow-
der was like gold-dust, had, before this time, left Orleans for
Baltimore. There he was able to give to the Government
such advice as it needed. When such an agent as Wilkinson,
or Freeman, or Nolan, was despatched to Orleans, he con-
fided what he dared to such reliable men as Silas Perry or
Daniel Clark.
In Silas Perry's household there were many secrets of
business or of state ; but none were secrets to Seth Ransom.
True, there was a certain affectation maintained, as to what
he knew, and what he did not know. When the time came
for a revelation, Silas Perry would make that revelation, for
form's sake. He would say, " Ransom, I am going to send
two boxes to Master Roland, by the Nancy,' to Bordeaux." '

But then he knew that Ransom knew this already ; and Ran-
som knew that he knew that he knew it. There were occa-
sions, indeed, when Silas Perry was humiliated in the family

1 Wilkinson's letters to Hamilton, and Hamilton's in reply on this subject, are

still extant in MS.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 231

counsels, because he was obliged Ransom's unof-

to ask for
fared There was a celebrated
assistance in secret matters.
occasion, when Mr. Perry had lost the will of Gen. Morgan,
which that officer had intrusted to him for safe and secret
deposit. Silas Perry had put it away, without whispering a
word of it to any one, not even to his sister, far less to Inez
and he had forgotten it through and through. And at last,
years after, a messenger came in haste for it. Gen. Morgan
being ill, and wishing to change it. Mr. Perry came from
the counting-house, and spent hours of a hot day in mad
search for it. And finally, when he was almost sick from
disgrace and despair, Eunice called Ransom to her.
The old man entered, displeased and disgusted.
" Ransom, Mr. Perry has lost an important paper."
" Know he has."
" It is the will of Gen. Morgan, and the general has sent
for it."

"Know he has."
" My brother cannot find it."
" Know he can't."
Eunice even — whom he loved — was obliged to humiliate
herself.
" Do you remember his ever speaking to you of it ?
" Never said a word to me."
Eunice had to prostrate herself further.
" Do you think you could find it ?
" Could, if he told me to."
'"Ransom, would you find it? he is very much troubled
about it."
Ransom's triumph was now complete; and he led his
humbled master and mistress to the forgotten crypt where
the will was laid away.
To such a man, the general plan of Hamilton, Miranda,
the English Cabinet, and the American Government, was
known as soon as it had been confidentially discussed be-
tween Gen. Wilkinson and Silas Perry, It was as safe with
232 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

him as with the English foreign secretary ; far safer, as has

proved since, than it was with Wilkinson. Ransom knew
now, therefore, that within four years past the co-operation
of an English fleet, an American army, and Spanish insur-
gents hadbeen among things hoped for by the most
intelligent men
in his own country. And so the few words
which Lonsdale spoke now led him instantly to the hasty con-
viction that Lonsdale was a confidential agent in a renewal
of the same combination.
I am
afraid this discussion of politics has been but rapidly
read by the younger part of those friends who are kind
enough to hurry over these lines. Let me only say to them,
that, if they will take the pains to read it, they will find the
first step in the course which this country marched inrfor
sixty years. That course eventually gave to it Texas, and
afterward California. Among other things, meanwhile, it

gave to it Oregon, and all east of Oregon. And, when

Kansas and Nebraska came to be came the question,
settled,
" How ? " And out of that question came the great civil
war, which even the youngest of these young readers does
not think unimportant.
And, indeed, there needed powers not less than the states-
manship of Adams and Rufus King, the chivalry of Hamilton,
and the fanaticism of Miranda, to bring about a marvel like
that of peaceful talk between Seth Ransom and an English-
man.
" Do not let an honorable gentleman like Mr. Nolan be
flung away in a wilderness where no one can help him."
These were Lonsdale's words of frankness.
" Said so myself. Said so to him, and said so to Mr.
Harrod. Told 'em both it was all dam nonsense. Ef the
Greasers was after 'em, told 'em to get out of the way, and
wait for the folks up above to settle 'em."
" Well " said Lonsdale eagerly, " and what did they say ? "
!

"They said they was ready for 'em. They said they was
nobody at Noches that dared follow where they was goin'
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 233

tliey men there. An' they wasn't when we

wasn't enough
was Mr. Harrod an' I counted the horses, we did.
there.
They wasn't enough when we was there. But," after a pause,
" they's been more men sent 'em since. Hundred an' sixty
men went from this place over here, —
went two months
ago to Noches." Another pause. Ransom looked over his
shoulder, made sure there were no listeners, and dropped his
voice " Sent word of this to the cap'n.
: Got his message
back yesterday. He left for home a week ago yesterday."
" God be praised " said Lonsdale so eagerly that even
!

Inez would have had some trust in him. " If only he runs
"
the lookout at Nacogdoches !

" He passed within ten miles on 'em while they was

dancin' and figurin' with the ladies," said the old man, well
pleased. " Guess he won't run into their mouths this time."
" If he gets safe home," said the other, " he will have
chances enough to come over here, with an army behind
him."
" Mebbe," was the sententious reply. But Ransom doubted
already whether he had not gone too far in his relations to an
officer of theEnglish crown, as he chose to suppose Lonsdale
to be and his confidences for this day were over.
j

Was he wise, indeed, in trusting " The Man I Hate," so

far as he had done 1
—
We shall see what we shall see.
234 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

CHAPTER XXII.

BATTLE.

" The cowards would have fled, but that they knew
Themselves so many, and their foes so few."
Cymon and Iphigenia,

The question whether Spain and America should meet in

battle in the forests of Texas was, at that moment, already
decided, although Ransom and Lonsdale
know it. did not
The descendants of Raleigh and Sydney and Drake and
Hawkins, of Amyas Leigh and Bertram and Robinson
Crusoe and their countr)Tnen, were to take up the gage
of battle which had lain forgotten so long, and were to meet
in fight the descendants of Alva and Cortez and Pizarro,
and De Soto and Philip the Second.
And for fifty years «that battle was to go on j not on the
seas as in Drake's days and Howard's, but on the land,
in sight of the very palaces Cortez had wondered at, and in
the very deserts in which De Soto had wandered.
And, when the glove was first picked up, poor Philip
Nolan, alas was the brave knight who stood for the faith
!

and for the star of Sidney and Howard.

Of the tragedy which followed, in the twenty-four hours
since we saw him, history has left us two accounts one, the —
journal of Muzquiz, the officer whom we saw kissing his hand
at Chihuahua and the other, the tale of Ellis Bean, the
;

youngest of Nolan's companions. They differ in detail, as

is of course ; but, as to the general history of that cruel
day, we know the story, and we know it only too well.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 235

The custom of Nolan's camp was always that a third of

the little party should keep the night-watch while two-thirds
slept. had happened, naturally enough, that the five Span-
It
iards — asthe Mexicans of the party were always called,
when they were not called " Greasers " —
made one of the
three watches. And, as destiny ordered, these five were on
duty on the night after Crooked Feather left with his mes-
sage. " As destiny ordered," one says had they not been :

there, Philip Nolan perhaps would never have been a martyr,

and these words had never been written. Destiny, careless-
ness, or treachery, that night put these five men on guard.
It was the 21st of March ; and in that climate, to such men
as these young fellows, there was little hardship in such beds
as they had provided. They slept, and their leader slept, as
hunters sleep after one day of work, and before another of
enterprise. He had not confided to any of them but Black-
burn the plan for an immediate return.
Of a sudden the trampling of horses roused him. It was
dark ; still he judged it past midnight. The fear of a stam-
pede, or of Indian thieves, was always present, and Nolan
was on his feet. He hailed the guard.
No answer
He left the little shed in which they were sleeping. The
guard were gone.
" Blackburn Bean! Caesar The Greasers are gone
! ! 1

"
Call all the men !

In the darkness the men gathered.

From their wall of logs they peered out into the forest.
It was not so dark but they could see here a figure passing
and there. Nolan and the others hailed in Spanish, arid in
various Indian tongues ; but they got no answers.
" Who will come to the corral with me ? " cried their fear-
less leader.
Half a dozen men volunteered.
They crossed to the corral to find that the horses were
safe. It was no stampeding party. Philip Nolan knew at
236 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

that instant that he had not Indians to fight against, but the
forces of the Most Catholic King of Spain one hundred ;

and sixty of them too, if Miss Eunice had been right in her
counting.
Of this he said nothing to his men. He bade each man
charge his rifle ; but no man was to fire till he gave the

word. He looked for his own double-barreled fowling-piece.

It was gone. One of the " Greasers " had stolen it, as he
deserted.^
This act made their bad faith the more certain, and re-
vealed to the men, what Nolan never doubted, the character
of their enemies. He bade them keep well covered by the
logs, and so they waited for the gray of the morning.
Nor did they wait long. A party of the besiegers ap-
proached. Nolan showed himself fearlessly.
"Take care how you come nearer," he cried. "One or
other of us will die if you do." .

They halted like children, as they were bidden.

" Who will come with me this time ? " said he ; and again
the volunteers were all that he could ask,
" No, not with rifles Lay down your
! rifles." And he
stepped forth unarmed from the little enclosure ; and they,
without gun or pistol, followed.

Again Nolan hailed the enemy in Spanish.

" Do not come near, for one or other of us will be killed
if you do." On this there was a consultation among the
enemy and, with a white flag, an Irishman whose name was
;

Barr came near enough to talk with Nolan in English. He

said his commander was a lieutenant named Muzquiz, and
he justified Eunice's count of a hundred and sixty men.
Unless Nolan had more men than he seemed to have, fight
was hopeless, Barr said.
" We shall see that," said Nolan. " What terms do they
offer us .?

1 The piece was afterward seen by Lieut. Pike ; and Muzquiz, the Spaniard
describes the theft.
 OK, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 237

Barr was not authorized to offer any terms. The orders

of Muzquiz were to arrest them, and send them prisoners to
Coahuila.
" Arrest us !
" said Nolan, " when you know I have your
governor's permit to collect these horses for your own army
in Louisiana, and to bring in goods, if I choose, to pay the
"
Indians for them ; do you mean to arrest me ?
Barr said he could say nothing of that. Muzquiz had
come to arrest them, and he expected them to surrender " in
the name of the king."
Nolan turned to his men ; but he needed not to consult
them. They knew what Spanish courtesy to prisoners was
too well. " Let them fight if they choose," was the senti-
ment of one and all. Barr went back to his master ; and
Nolan and his companions to the little log enclosure, which
was yesterday only the poorest horse-pen, and was to-day a
fort beleaguered and defended.
Who knows what, even with such odds, the end might have
been ! These gallant Spanish troopers, ten to one, did not
dare risk themselves too near. But, not ten minutes after
the sharp-shooting began, Nolan exposed himself too fear-
lessly, was struck by a ball in the head, and fell dead, with-
out a word.
Muzquiz had brought with him a on the back
little swivel,
of a mule. He did not dare risk his men
Ken- before the
tucky and Mississippi sharp-shooters. But it was easy fight-
ing, to load this little cannon with grape-shot, and fire it
pell-mell upon the logs. If one of his men exposed himself,
a warning rifle-shot showed that some one was alive within.
But the Spaniards kept their distance bravely, and loaded
and fired the swivel behind the shelter which the careful
Muzquiz had prepared.
Within the pen there were various counsels. Ellis Bean,
the youngest of the party, probably offered the best ; which
was, that at the moment the swivel was next discharged they
should dash upon it and take it, trusting to the Spaniards'
238 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

unwillingness to die first. " It is at most but death," said

Bean ; " and we may as well die so as in their mines." And
two or three of the boldest of them held with Bean. But the
more cautious men said that this was madness. And so,
after four hours of this aiming into the thicket from behind
the logs, they loosened the logs on the side opposite the
swivel, and then took the opportunity of the next discharge
to escape from their fortress into the woods, bearing with
them two wounded men, but leaving the body of their brave
commander.
There were but nine well men left, after the desertion, and
these two wounded fellows. Each man filled his powder-
horn ; and to old Csesar, who had no gun, was given the
remaining stock of powder to carry. For a few minutes
their retreat was not noticed. They got a little the start of
the swivel-firers. But the silence of the pen-walls told a
'

story ; and the Spaniards soon mustered courage to attack

an empty fortress. Nothing there but Phil Nolan's body,
and the little stores of the encampment
Warily the host followed. Mounted men as they were,
they of course soon overtook these footmen. But they~kept
-

a prudent distance still. No man

wanted to be the first
shot and the whir of an occasional bullet would remind the
;

more adventurous that it was better to be cautious. At last,

however, they made a prize. Poor Caesar, with his heavy
load, had lagged and, as he had no gun, a brave trooper
;

pounced upon him. All the powder of the pursued troop

was thus in the hands of the pursuers.
The next victory, announced by a cheer of Spanish rap-
ture, was the surrender of one of the wounded men. He
could not keep up with his friends, and he would not delay
them. He was seen waving a white rag, and was surrounded
by the advance with a shout of victory.
So passed six hours of pursuit and retreat. Muzquiz sent
a body in advance, to command, with their carbines, both
sides of the trail he knew his enemy would take. But so
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 239

cautious was the Spanish fire, that the fortunate fellows

passed through this defile without losing a man. Well for
them that the Spaniards believed so religiously in the dis-
tance to which the Kentucky would carry lead
rifle Six !

hours of pursuit and retreat ! who was more

At last Fero,
like a commander than any others in the little company, and
Blackburn the Quaker, called a halt. They counted their
forces. All here, but he who had insisted on surrendering
himself, — save, alas ! Caesar.
Every man's horn was nearly empty. Unless Caesar could
be found —
all was lost

No. He cannot be found

They are brave fellows ; but there is nothing for it, but to
hoist a white flag, which Muzquiz welcomed gladly.
He knew now what he could do, and what he could not
do. He knew he could not make Spanish troopers with
their carbines stand the sure fire of the Kentucky rifle. He
knew Nolan was dead. The danger of the expedition was
at an end. His own advancement was sure. In any event,
it was victory.
Muzquiz therefore sent in Barr the Irishman again, and
this time bade him offer terms. The little party was to
return to Nachitoches, and never come into Texas any more.
In particular they were to promise to make no establishment
with the Indians.
To he might have saved himself
this they replied, that
trouble. This was just what he wanted to do. But they
added that they should never give up their arms.
They were assured that this was not demanded only they :

must agree to be escorted back to Natchitoches,

To this they agreed, if they might go back and bury
Nolan. Muzquiz consented to this. The party marched
back together, and buried him. But no man knows his rest-
ing-place. Nolan's River, a little branch of the Brasses, is
the only monument of his fame.
The whole party then turned eastward, and marched good-
24© PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

naturedly enough together to Nacogdoches. Once and

again the Spaniards had to accept of the superior skill

of the Americans, in building rafts, or constructing other

methods for crossing the swollen streams. So they arrived
at the little garrison. Which were the conquerors ?

It would have been hard to tell, until the morning after

their arrival, when the Americans were disarmed, man by
man, and handcuffed as criminals.
From that moment to this moment, the words " Spanish
honor " have meant in Texas " a snare and a lie."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 241

CHAPTER XXIII.

AT SAN ANTONIO.

" Ofall their falsehood, more could I recount,

But now the bright sun 'ginneth to dismount

And, for the dewy night now doth draw nigh,
I hold it best for us home to hie."
Shepherd's Calendar.

April crept by at San Antonio ; but it only crept. The

easy winter-life, which was not wintry, passed into the life of
what ought to have been a lovely spring-time for not at ;

Nice or Genoa, better known, alas, to the average American

reader than San Antonio, can spring be more lovely than it
is there. But it was not lovely. Major Barelo assured
Eunice on his honor that he had no news from Muzquiz's
force above. He began to assure her, that, if they had met
the hunters, he certainly should have heard of it before this.
Miss Perry tried to believe this, and she tried to make Inez
believe it. But still the days hung heavy. The little enter-
tainments of the garrison seemed heartless and dull. What
was a game at prison-bounds, or a costume-ball, or a play of
Cervantes, or a picnic at the springs, when people did not
know whether dear friends were alive or dead, or in lifelong
captivity? How could one hunt for prairie-flowers, and
analyze them and press them, when one remembered the
ride across the prairies, and wondered where they were who
shared it ?

Poor Inez had her own cause of anxiety, which burned all
the more hotly in her poorlittle heart because she was too
2<2 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

proud to it, even to Aunt Eunice.

speak of Where was
WillHarrod? he had joined Capt. Phil before Crooked
If
Feather did, why had not Crooked Feather brought one
word, or message, or token? If he had not joined Capt.
Phil ?— that question was even worse. Oh, the whole thing
was so hollow ! Tliat one should eat and drink and sleep,
should go to balls and tertulias and reading-parties that;

Lieut. Gonzales should lift one into the saddle, and talk bad
English with one for the hours of a ride j that Mr. Lonsdale
should hang round the evening, and talk of every thing
all

but what he was thinking of, and she was thinking of, and
Aunt Eunice was thinking of, —
it was all a horrid lie, and it

was terrible.
White Hawk was her only comfort. Dear child she knew !

she was her only comfort and, with exquisite instincts, she
;

took upon her the duties of a comforter without once affect-

ing that she took them. But she could make Inez forget
herself, and she did. She would spin out the pretty lessons
in writing, on which Inez had begun with her. She would
lead her to talk about the spelling tasks and the reading
lesson, which in Inez's new-fledged dignity as a tutor she was
giving. Then she would play teacher in her turn. They
found porcupine's quills and a lovely mess they made of
;

things in dyeing them with such decoctions as White Hawk

invented. They embroidered slippers for Eunice, for them-
selves, for Major Barelo, and for dear Aunt Dolores even ;

for old Ransom, they embroidered slippers as the winter and

spring went by. Inez was becoming a proficient in other
forms of wood-craft. Ah me if Will Harrod had come
!

back, she could have talked to him before the spring went
by, in pantomime quite as expressive as his own, and far
more graceful.
But then, just when they came back from a tramp on the
beautiful river-side, with old Ransom and one and another
attendant, laden down with their roots and barks and berries,
and other stuff, —
as the old man called it, —
the first sight
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 243

of the garrison brought back the old terrible anxiety. Inez

would rush to Aunt Dolores or to Aunt Eunice, and say, " Is
there any news ? " as if this happy valley was no happy valley
at all, and as if she could not forget how far parted she was
from the world.
Old Ransom took on himself to school her, in his fashion,
more than her aunt thought wisest.
" Een," he said to her one day as they rode, " ye mus'n'
take on so much as ye do for the cap'n. The cap'n's all
right, he is. He told me heself he should be back at the
river 'fore March was over. Them mustangs ain't good for
nothin' ef you sells 'em after May, 'n' the cap'n knew that's
well as I did. 'N he says, says he, Ransom,' says he, I
' '

shall be in Natchez first week in April. I shall send two

hundred on 'em down the river to Orleans in flats,' says he
'n I shall go across to the Cumberland River, through the
'

Creek country, with the others.' That's what he says' to me.

.

—
He knows Bowles, the Injen chief always did know^ots of
the redskins. 'N he says to me, I shall go to the Cumber-
'

land River to be there 'fore April's over, time for the spring
ploughing.'"
Every word of this was a lie ; but it was a lie invented
with so kind an object, and, indeed, so well invented, that the
recording angel undoubtedly dropped a tear of compassion
and regret commingled, as he wrote it down.
Poor Inez tried to believe it true.
"You never saw Crooked Feather again. Ransom, did
you?"
Ransom paused. He doubted for a moment, whether he
would not boldly create a second conversation with Crooked
Feather, in which that chief should describe an interview
with William Harrod. But no this was too much. For the
!

old man loved the truth in itself, and did not ever intend to
swerve from it. What he had said about Nolan and the
horses, he believed to be the absolute truth of things. He
'had put it in the form of a conversation with Nolan, because
244 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

he could thus most distinctly make Inez apprehend it, baby

as she was in his estimation still. But, as to Harrod, he
believed as implicitly that he had been scalped within the
week after he left them. Believing that, he had no romance
to invent which should restore him to the world.
After a pause — not infrequent in his colloquies — he
assumed a more didactic tone. It would, at another time,
have delighted Inez ; but now the weight at her heart was
too heavy. Still she beckoned the White Hawk to come up

and ride by their side ; and the old man went on with his
lecture.
" I never see him, Een, and I never want to. Niggers is

bad French folks is bad English is wus and Spanish is

; ; ;

wus then them, by a long sight ; but redskins is the wust on

'em all. is niggers. They's
They's lazy, that's one thing; so
fools, that's one thing ; so is the mounseers. They's. proud
as the Devil, that's one thing ; so is the Englishmen. They'll
lie 's fast 's they can talk so'll the Spaniards ; 'n' they'll
:

cheat and steal, and pretend they can't understand nothin'

you say all the time. They's a bad set. I gin your old chief
(Crooked Feather he said his name was, but he lied ; it
wasn't —
didn't have no name) —
I gin him his sugar, 'n I
turned him out of the warehouse, 'n I told him ef I ever see
him ag'in, I'd thrash him within an inch of his life. He per-
tended he didn't know nothin', 'n that he didn't know what
I meant. But he knew enough to make tracks, 'n I haint

ever seen him sence, 'n I haint wanted to, neyther. Red-
skins is fools 'n liars 'n thieves 'n lazy, 'n aint no good any
way."
Ma-ry understood enough of this eulogy on her old masters
to laugh at it thoroughly : indeed she sympathized, and said
to Inez, —
" Ma-ry knows, yes. Ransom knows, yes. Crooked
Feather bad, lazy, steal. O Inez, Inez ! darling dear, all
;
bad, all lie, all steal and she flung down her reins in a wild
"
way, and just rested herself fearlessly on the other's shoulder,
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 245

and kissed her once and again, as if to bless her that she
had taken her from her old taskmasters then she took the;

reins again, and made her pony fly like the wind along the
road, and return to the party, as if she. must do something
vehement to express her sense of her escape- from such cap-
tivity.

Thus Ransom tried — and tried not unsuccessfully — to

turn Inez's thoughts for a moment from questions of Nolan
and Harrod.
But not for a long The moment they passed the
respite.
gate of the which in those days, after a fashion,
little wall,
bounded the garrison, it was evident that something had
transpired. The lazy sentinel himself stood at his post with
more of a military air. On the military plaza were groups of
men together, in the wild gesticulation of Spanish talk,
where usually at this hour no one would be seen. Certain
that some news had come, Inez pushed her horse, and Ran-
som in his respectful following, kept close behind her. She
would not ask a question of the Spanish officers whom they
dashed by ; but she fancied that in their salute there was an
air of gravity which she had certainly never seen before, a —
gravity which the sight of two smiling, pretty girls, dashing
by at a fast canter, certainly would not in itself have excited.
Arrived in the courtyard, the excited girl swung herself
into Ransom's arms, gathered up her dress, and rushed into
her aunt's room. The White Hawk needed,no help, but left
her pony as quickly, and followed Inez. Eunice was not
there at the moment but, just as Inez had determined to go
;

in search of her, her aunt 'appeared at the door. Oh, how

wretchedly sad in every line of her face, and in the eyes
which looked so resolutely on poor Inez The news had!

come, and it was bad news !

Eunice gave one hand to each, and led them both into the
inner room. She shut the door. She made Inez lie down.
Oh, how still she was and how still they were
! !

She sat by the girl's side. She held her hand. She even
246 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Stroked her forehead with the other, before she could speak.
At last, —
" O my darling, my dearest ! it is all too true ! It is all
over."
Inez was on her elbow, looking straight into her eyes.
" Inez, my darling, tliey met ; they found him only the day
after he wrote to They fought him
us. the wretches — — ten
to his one. They killed him. They have taken all the others
prisoners and they are all to go to the mines, to slave there
;

till the king shall send word to have them killed. O my dar-
"
ling, my child !

Inez looked her still in the face.

" Who else is killed ? Tell me all, dear aunt, tell me all
!

" My darling, O my darling ! I cannot hear that anybody

but Nolan was killed. They
him at their first fire, and killed
he never spoke again. Dear, dear fellow oh, what will his !

little wife say or do .'

It was the first time that in words Eunice had ever told
Inez that Nolan had married the pretty Fanny Lintot, whose
picture Inez had seen^ In truth, he had married her just
before he left Natchez.
" They say they took our people prisoners on terms of
unconditional surrender. Inez, they say what is not true.
Will Harrod, and all those men with Nolan, would have died
before they would have been marched to the mines. But,
my have told you all I know."
darling, I
"There is no word from from from Capt. Harrod?" — —
asked Inez, finding it hard to speak his name even now.
" Oh no word for us from anybody. There is only a
!

bragging despatch with '

God preserve Your Excellency many
years,' from this coward of a Muzquiz, — this man who takes
an army to hunt a soldier. Why, I should have thought he
had met Bonaparte hand to hand
" The Major sent for me. He is so kind And dear Do- 1

lores — oh, she is lovely. He told me all he knew. He

promised to tell me all. Perhaps the prisoners will come
this way : then we shall know.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 247

" But what a wretch I am ! I have been praying and

hoping so that I might break it to you gently ; and I have
only poured out my whole story without one thought. Dear,
dear Inez, forgive me !

She was beside herself with excitement. In truth, of the

two, Inez seemed more calm. But she was, oh, so deadly
pale ! She tried to speak. No she could not say a word.
!

She opened her lips, but no sound would come. Nay, even
the tears would not come. She looked up —she looked
around. She saw dear Ma-ry, her eyes flooded with tears,
her whole eager face alive with her sorrow and her sympathy.
Inez flung herself into her arms ; and the tears flowed as she
sobbed and sobbed and sobbed upon her shoulder.
Eunice told Inez that Major Barelo had told her all. She
thought he had. The loyal Spanish gentleman had kept his
secret well.
He had not told her all. The bragging despatch from
Muzquiz had been accompanied with a little parcel. This
parcel contained the ears of Philip Nolan The chivalrous
!

Muzquiz, the representative of the Most Catholic King,

had cut off the ears of the dead hero, to send them in token
of victory to the governor
So low had sunk the chivalry which in the daj's of Lobeira
gave law to the courtesy of the world !

Of this accompaniment to the despatch, Barelo had said

nothing to Eunice Perry ; nor did she know it till she died.
We know it from the despatch in which the Castilian chief
announces it.
248 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER XXIV.

"l MUST GO HOME."

'*
Now with a general peace the world was blest
While ours, a world divided from the rest,

A dreadful quiet felt, and, worser far

Than arms, a sullen interval of war :

Thus when black cloudi draw down the laboring sides,

Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,

A horrid stillness first invades the ear,

And in that silence we the tempest fear."
Astraa Rediix,

Poor Inez ! Poor Eunice !

They kept their grief to themselves as best they could.

But every one knew there was a grief
in the garrison circle
to keep, though no one, not even Donna Maria, suspected
the whole of it, and no one could quite account for the depth
of the ladies' interest in the freebooters. Eunice said boldly
that it would prove to be all a mistake, which De Nava and
Salcedo would surely regret. That Mr. Nolan was an
accomplished gentleman, they knew, for he had visited all

Antonio again and again he had danced in their parties,

:

and dined at their tables. She said he was Gayoso's friend,

and Casa Calvo's friend, and that they were not the men
she took them for, if they did not resent such interference
from another province. She said boldly, that there would
have to be some public statement now, whether the King of
Spain meant to protect his subjects in Louisiana against
other subjects in Mexico. So far Eunice carried talk with a
high spirit, because she would gladly give the impression, in
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 249

the garrison circle, that she and Inez were wounded with a
sense of what may be called provincial pride. The inhospi-
tality exercised toward Nolan to-day might be exercised to-

ward them to-morrow.

But, while Eunice Perry took this high tone in the long
morning talks of the ladies, her own heart was sick with the
secret her brother had confided to her. She knew that
Orleans and Louisiana were Spanish only in name. Did not
De Nava and Salcedo know this also ? Was not this bold
dash against Nolan the first declaration of the indifference
of Spanish commanders to all directions from Louisiana,
now Louisiana was French again ? And, if it were so, ought
not Eunice Perry be looking toward getting her white doves
to their own shelter again as soon as might be ?
She determined, not unwisely, to confide to Ransom the
jyeat secret of state which her brother had intrusted to her.
In doing this, she knew she would not displease Silas Perry,
who would have told Ransom within a minute after he had
heard it, for the mere convenience of not having to perplex
himself by hiding from his right hand what affected both
hands every moment.
Eunice was not displeased that for once she could take the
old man by surprise. She chose, as she was wont to do for
private conferences, a chance when they were riding for, ;

while the old stone walls of the garrison might have ears, the
river, the prairie, and the mesquits had none.
" Ransom, you know why all the people in Orleans speak

French ?

" They's French folks, all on 'em, mum, they is. Them
Spaniards is nothin' Spanish, none on 'em.
Ain't real
Gayoso, he'd lived in England all his life. This one has to
talk French. Sham-Spanish all on 'em, they is."
" Yes, Ransom, the King of Spain sends over officers who

speak French, because the people are French people."

" Yes'm, all French folks once had French governors.
;

Awful times, wen your brother fust come there, — when they
250 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

tried to send the Spanish governor packing, good enough —

for him, too. He caught 'em and hanged 'em all darned —
old rascal, he did. Awful times He was a Paddy, he was !

darned old rascal " !

" Yes, Ransom, and a very cruel thing it was. Well, now.
Ransom, the King of Spain is frightened ; and he has given
Orleans back, and all the country, to the French."
" Guess not, Miss Eunice 1 " said the old man quickly,
really surprised this time.
" Yes, Ransom, there is no doubt of it ; but it is a great
secret. The French general told my brother, and he bade
me tell no one but you and Inez. Do not let these people
dream of it here.''
" No, marm, and they don't know it now. Ef they knew
it, I should know. They don't know nothin'." Ransom
said all this slowly, with long pauses between the sentences.

But Eunice could see that he was pleased, yes, well pleased —
with the announcement. His eyes Ipoked, like a prophet's,
far into the distance before him ; and his face slowly beamed
with a well-satisfied smile, as if he had himself conducted
the great negotiation.
" Good thing, Miss Perry ! guess it's a good thing. Mr.
Perry did not go for nothin'. Them French don't know
nothin'. King of Spain, darned fool, he don't know nothin'.
Ye brother had to go 'n tell 'em."
" No, Ransom, I do not think my brother told them. But
he says he is glad to belong to the side that always wins."
" Guess Mr. Perry told 'em, ma'am," was Ransom's fixed
reply. " They's all fools — don't know nothin'."
Eunice had made her protest, and did not renew it. She
knew she should never persuade the old man that he and
Silas Perry together did not manage all those affairs in the
universe which were managed well.
" My brother is well pleased. Ransom, and so is Roland.
Roland is quite a friend of Gen. Bonaparte."
" Yes'm, this man always wins. Say his soldiers cum over
 Oli, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 251

here to learn fightin'. Say Gen. Washington had to show

'em how. Say Roshhnbow's comin' over to the islands now.
I knew that one, Roshimbow, myself ; held his hoss for him
one day, down to Pomfert meetin'-house, when he stopped to
get suthin to drink at the tavern. Gen. Washington was
showin' him about fightin' then, and so was old Gen. Knox,
and Col. Greaton ; and now he's been tellin' this other one.
That's the way they knows how to do it. French is nothin' ;
don't know nothin.' This other one, he's an Eyetalian."
" This other one," who thus received the art of war at
second-hand from Col. Greaton of the Massachusetts line,
and from George Washington, was the person better known
in history as Napoleon Bonaparte.
" Ransom, if there is one whisper of war between France
and Spain, we must get back to Orleans. I am sure I do
not know how. Or if there is war between England and
France again, or between England and Spain. Indeed, I
wonder sometimes that we ever came ; but we acted for the
best."
She hardly knew that he was by her, as she fell back on
these anxieties. But it was just as well. The old man was
as sympathetic as her mother would have been.
" I should not be troubled, mum. It's peace now, and the
major here thinks it's like to be. So does the gov'nor and
the general. Heerd 'em say so yesterday. It's peace now,
and it's like to be." Here a long pause. " Ain't no cause
to be troubled. Miss Inez liked the ride comin', and she'll
like it goin'. There's two or three of the Greasers here will
go where I tell 'em, and three of the niggers too, ef you don't
like to ask him for soldiers. Shouldn't take no trouble about
it. When you want to go, ma'am, we'll go. I'll tell 'em the
king sent word we was to go." And his own smile showed
was not displeased at the prospect of leaving behind
that he
him a community which he held in deeper scorn than the
Orleans which he loved while he despised.
" I hope we may not have to go, Ransom ; but you must
252 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

keep your eyes open and your ears, and we will be ready to
go at an hour's warning."
" Yes'm, the sooner the better."
The truth was, that the signal came sooner than Eunice
expected, and in a way as bad as the worst that shehad
feared. Late in the afternoon of a sultry day «n June, a —
day which had been pronounced too hot for riding, the —
ladies had just returned from a bath in the river, and were
not in full costume, when a clamor and excitement swept
among the garrison, and, in spite of Major Barelo's precau-
tions and the Donna Maria's, made way even into the rooms
of the American ladies. The White Hawk ran out to recon-
noitre and inquire.
A band of Spanish troopers, with great fanfarons of trum-
pets, and even with little Moorish drums, came riding into
the plaza, and in the midst, with a troop behind as well as
before, a little company of eleven bearded men, dirty and
ragged, heavily ironed lest they might leap from their horses,
and, without arms, overthrow a hundred Spanish cavalry.
These were the American prisoners. They had been kept
a month at Nacogdoches, listening tolies about their release,

and were on their way to Chihuahua and the mines.

at last
The White Hawk, with her usual indifference to regula-
tions, walked right down to this wretched coffle, and in a
minute recognized Blackburn, who had seen her at Nacog-
doches. Without attempting a word of English, she asked
him in pantomime where Harrod was, for the girl saw that
he was not in the number. Blackburn did not conceal his
surprise. He had taken it for granted, as they all had, that
Harrod and the others had been held by the Spaniards. He
told the gestures which she perfectly understood, that
girl, in

they had never seen Harrod, nor King, nor Adams, nor
Richards, since, with old Caesar, he parted from them in the
autumn.
Then she ventured on the further question, to which, alas
she knew the answer, — Where was Capt. Nolan ? Ah, me !
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 253

the poor fellow could only confirm the cruel news of two
months His quick gesture showed where the fatal
before.
shot struck, and how sudden was his death. Then he told,
in a minute more, that all this was but the morning after
Crooked Feather left them. He called her to him, and bade
her stroke hrs horse's neck, and lie close against his fore-leg
as she did so. She was as quick and stealthy as a savage
would have been in obeying him ; and in an instant more she
was rewarded. He slid into her hand, under the rough
mane, the little prayer-book which Eunice had sent to Nolan.
Blackburn himself had taken it from his leader's body when
they buried him ; and though. Heaven knows, he had been
stripped and plundered once and again since, so that noth-
ing else was left him that he could call his own, the plun-
derers were men who had a certain fear of prayer-books, —
if it were fear which reverenced, and, for good reasons —
and for bad, they had left him this and this alone.
" Come again Come again " said the White Hawk
I !

fearlessly and she hurried away from the troop, with the
;

news she had collected. In a minute more she had joined

the ladies.
" Troopers come — Ma-ry — Ma-ry — Nolan's troopers.
men —
come, one and she held up her
five, five, !
" fingers.
" Poor men they ! — what you — — —
are all call iron iron
here, here — on hands — on Blackburn come me feet. :

talk to Blackburn, Blackburn tell all. Darling, darling, Will

Harrod never found them ! Will Harrod never saw them !

O darling, darling dear 1 Will Harrod all safe, — all gone

home, — Orleans, — darling, darling dear 1
"

" Who says he's safe ? " cried poor Inez, starting to her
feet.
" Me —
me say he never saw Nolan,
say so, never saw —
Blackburn. Blackburn said he was here. Blackburn won-
der very, very much. Will Harrod not here. Blackburn tell
me, —
tell me now, —
Will Harrod never come. King never
come, Adams never come, Richards never come. Blackburn
2S4 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

say all here. Nobody come but old Caesar and Blackburn.
Old Cassar here now me see old Caesar.''
:

Inez had fallen back when she saw that Harrod's safety
was only the White Hawk's guess. But now she started.
" Dear, dear old Caesar let me go see him too " and they
! ;

ran. But the prisoners had already been led away ; and
there needed formal applications to Barelo and who —
should say to whom else ? — before they could talk with the
poor old fellow.
To such applications, however, Barelo was in no sort deaf.
If he had dared, and if there had not been twenty or
thirty days' hard travel to the frontier, he would have given
permits enough to Ransom and Miss Perry and Mile. Inez
and the White Hawk have set every one of the " bearded
to
men " free ; he would have made a golden bridge for them
to escape by ; for Major Barelo could and did read the fu-
ture. This was impossible. But old Ransom daily, and one
or other of the ladies, saw the prisoners, and, while they
could, ministered to their wants.
White Hawk's first was entirely confirmed. Neither
story
had ever been seen on the Tocko-
of the escort of the ladies
wakono or Upper Brasses. The men thought they had de-
serted, and gone back to Natchez ; but Inez of course, and
Eunice, knew that Harrod had never deserted his friend.
" No the Apaches have him, or the Comanches."
1

" They had him they had him, Eunice

! But they keep !

no prisoners alive " and, in a paroxysm of weeping, Inez fell

!

on her aunt's lap and the pretended secret of her heart was
;

a secret no longer to either of them.

It was Inez's wretchedness, perhaps, which wore more and
more on Eunice as the summer crept by. Perhaps it was the
wretchedness of the miserable handful of men kept in close
confinement at Antonio. Month after month this captivity
continued. More and more doubtful were Cordero's and Her-
rara's words, when Eunice forced them, as she would force
them, to speak of the chances of liberation. As September
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 255

passed, there came one of the flying rumors from below, of

which no man knew the authority, that the King of Spain
had quarrelled with the French Republic. This rumor gave
Eunice new ground for anxiety as to her position and she ;

was well disposed to yield, when Inez one night broke all re-
serve, and, after one of the endless talks about the mysteries
and miseries around them, cried out in her agony,
" I must go home 1
256 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER XXV.
COUNTERMARCH.

" Berenice, — Tis done

Deep in your heart you wish me to be gone
And I depart Yes, I depart to-day.
— ' Linger a little longer ? ' Wherefore stay ?

To be the laughing-stock of high and low ?

To hear a people gossip for my woe ?

While tidings such as these my peace destroy,
To see my sorrows feed the common joy ?

Why should I stay ? To-night shall see me gone."

Racine.

Eunice slept upon the girl's ejaculation; and the next

morning she was determined. She went at once to her
brother's brother-in-law, and said to him that their visit had
lasted nearly a year, that the very circumstance impended by
which her brother had limited it, and that frankly she must
ask him for such escort as he could give her to Natchitoches.
Once at Natchitoches, she would trust herself to her own
servants' care, as they should float down the Red River.
The major was careworn, evidently disliked to approach
the subject ; but, with the courtesy of a host and of a true
gentleman, tried to dissuade her. He asked her why a
breeze between Bonaparte and his sovereign should affect
two ladies in the heart of America. Was this affectation ?
Had he heard that Louisiana was to be French again ? Did
he want to come at her secrets ?
Eunice looked him bravely in the eye before she answered.
She satisfied herself that he was sincere ; that he did not
 OR, "SHOW VOUK PASSPOHTS." 257

know that great state secret which had been intrusted to her,
and which would so easily explain her anxiety.
" I do not know when my brother will sail on his return.
Suppose the First Consul of France chooses to say that he
shall not return 'i

" Then your niece will be here under the protection of her
nearest American relations."
" Suppose Gen. Victor, with French army of this fine
which you tell Domingo, and lights upon
me, passes by St.

Orleans. How long will my friend Casa Calvo defend that

city, with a French people behind him, and a French army

and fleet before him .'

" He will defend it quite as long without the aid of the

Miles. Perry as with," was Barelo's grave reply, made as
if this contingency were not new to his imaginings.
"And if my brother and my nephew be with Gen. Victor,
if they land in Orleans, surely they will expect to find us
there," said poor Eunice quite too eagerly.
"My dear sister," said the Spanish gentleman gravely,
" do not let us argue a matter of which we know so little. I
am only anxious to do what you wish : only I must justify
myself to Don Silas Perry, in event of any misfortune. I
cannot think that he would approve of my sending you two
ladies into a scene of war."
" Then you believe that war impends !
" cried Eunice, more
anxious than ever. " My dear, dear brother, what madness it
"
was that we ever came !

This was not a satisfactory beginning. It was the deter-

mination, however, as it happened, of the route which the

little party took, and took soon, —

by one of those chances
wholly unhoped for when Eunice approached the major.
On the very afternoon of that day, the monotony of the
garrison life, which had become so hateful to both the ladies,
was broken up by the arrival of an unexpected party. Mr.
Lonsdale had returned, with a rather cumbrous group of
hunters, guides, grooms, and attendants without a name, with
2S8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

whom he had made a long excursion to the mines of Potosi,

The arrival of so largea party was a great event in the
garrison.
Greatly to the surprise of Miss Perry and her niece, who
had excused themselves from a little re-union which called
together most of the garrison ladies, a visitor was announced,
and Mr. Lonsdale presented himself. Inez was fairly caught,
and, at the moment, could not escape from the room, as she
would have done gladly. She satisfied herself by receiving
him very formally, and then by sitting behind him and making
menacing gestures, which could not be seen by him, but could
be seen perfectly by her aunt and Ma-ry. With such assist-
ance Eunice Perry carried on the conversation alone.
With some assistance, he was fired up to tell the story of
what he and his party had done, and what they had not done ;
to tell how silver was mined, and what was a " conducta."
He told of skirmishes with Indians, in which evidently he
had borne himself with all the courage of his nation, and of
which he spoke with all the modesty of a gentleman. But, as
soon as Eunice paused at all, Mr. Lonsdale, as his wont was,
shifted the subject, and compelled her to talk of herself and
her own plans. Not one allusion to poor Nolan that was :

too sad. But, of American politics, many questions of the ;

politics of the world, more. Who was this man, and why was
he here ?

" When I was in Philadelphia and New York they called

Mr. Jefferson the pacific candidate. Will he prove to be the
pacific president ?

"You more than I know, Mr. Lonsdale. It was President

Adams who made peace with the First Consul."
"I know that, and I knoW the Miles. Perry are good
Federalists." Here he attempted to turn to see Inez, and
almost detected her dotibling her fist behind his back. "I

had a long talk with Mr. Jefferson, but I could not get at his
views or convictions."
" He would hardly mention them to a — to any but an
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 259

intimate friend," said Eunice rather stiffly, while Inez repre-

sented herself as scalping the Englishman.
" No* no of course not
! Yet I wish I knew. I wish
!

any man knew if the First Consul means war or peace with
England, or war or peace with America."
Eunice saw no harm here in saying what she knew. '

" Gen. Bonaparte means peace with America, my brother

says and believes. My nephew has been intimate at Mal-
maison, and my brother has seen the First Consul with great
advantages. He thinks him a man of the rarest genius for
war or for peace. He is is peace with
sure that his policy
us, — with America mean." I
"You amaze me," said Mr. Lonsdale. "I supposed this
general was one more^ popinjay like the others, a brag and —
a bluster. I supposed his history was to be strung on the
same string with that of all these men."
And in saying this Lonsdale did but say what almost every
Englishman of his time said and believed. Nothing is more
droll,now it is all over, than a study of the English caricatures
of that day, as they contrast " the best of kings " and " the
Corsican adventurer." How pitiless history chooses to be
In one of these caricatures, George III. figures as Gulliver,
and " Gen. Buonaparte " is the King of Liliput 1

Eunice could well afEord to be frank at this time, whether

Lonsdale were Conolly, Chisholm, Bowles, or any other Eng-
lish spy.
" My last letters from my brother are very late. He was
certain then of peace between England and France ; and of
have spoken freely here."
this I
Lonsdale certainly was thrown off guard. His whole face
lighted up with pleasure.
" Are you sure ? are you sure ? Let me shake hands with
you, Miss Perry. This is indeed almost too good to be
"
true !

Eunice gave him her hand, and said, —

" Let us hope the new century is to be the century of
26o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

peace, indeed. we drink

that toast in a glass of rain-
Shall
water ? from her, the White Hawk brought
" and, at a sign
him a glass of pure water from a Moorish-looking jar of
unglazed clay.
" Ma-ry, my dear child," said the Englishman slowly, with
the tears fairly standing in his eyes, " do you know what
comes to those who give others a cup of cold water ? "
Eunice had never seen such depth of feeling on his face
or in hismanner ; and even Inez was hushed to something
serious.
As he put down the glass, he passed Miss Perry, and in a
low tone he said, —
" May I speak with you alone ? "
Eunice, without hesitation, sent the girls to bed. Who
was man, and what did he come for t
this
" Pardon me. Miss Perry, you know of course how much
you can trust of what is secret, in this cursed web of secrets,
to our young friends. You may call them back, if you please.
You may tell them every word I tell you. But I supposed it
more prudent to speak to you alone. As I came across the
Rio Grande I learned, and am sure, that Gov. Salcedo has
gone to Orleans. That means something."
Of course it did. The transfer of Salcedo to the govern-
ment of Louisiana must mean more stringent and suspicious
government of Orleans. Did it mean war with America.'
Did it mean war with France ?
" I thought," continued the taciturn Englishman, stumbling
again now, " I thought —
I was sure —
you should know
this ; and doubted if our friends here would tell you. In
I

yoi^r place, such news would take me home ; and therefore I

hurried here to tell you. We made short work from the
river, I assure you." r
'
^

" How good you are " said Eunice frankly, and smiling
!

even in her wonder why this impassive Englishman, this spy

of Lord Dorchester or of Lord Hawksbury^hould care for
her journey.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 261

" How
good you are. You are very right. Yet to think
that I should want to go nearer to that brute Salcedo For !

really I believe it is he, Mr. Lonsdale, it is he who murdered

our friend. But I do —
I do want to go home. Oh why !

did I come ? I asked my brother that this morning.!'

" The past is the past, dear Miss Perry. Your question
is not. Why did you come ? but. How shall you go ? "
" And how indeed ? " said she sadly. " My brother vir-
tually refuses me an escort. I do not know why. He wants
to keep us here."
" Major Barelo hates, dreads, despises, this Salcedo, —
this cruel, vindictive, 'moribund old man,' as I overheard
him say one day, — as heartily as you do, or as I do. But,
all the same, he is a soldier. De Nava or Salcedo may have
ordered every man to be kept at this post, or within this
intendancy."
"
They have ordered something,'' said Eunice ; and she
mused. Then frankly, " Oh, Mr. Lonsdale you are a diplo-
!

matist I am a woman. You know how to manage men for

: :

me, I do not know how to manage these two girls. They

manage me," and she smiled faintly. " Forget you are an
official, and for twenty-four hours think and see what an

English gentleman can do for a friend."

She even rose from her chair in" her excitement: she
looked him straight in the face, as he remembered her doing
once before j and she gave him her hand loyally.
Lonsdale was clearly surprised.
" Why you call me a diplomatist, I do not know.
That I
am a gentleman, this Miss Perry, I came into
you shall see.
this room, only to offer what you ask. Because the offer
must be secret if you decline it, I asked you to send the
young ladies away."
Then he
told her that he had reason to believe, he said —
no more than that, —
he had " reason to believe " that a little
tender to an English frigate would be hanging off and on at
Corpus Christi Bay, on the coast below San Antonio. He
262 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

knew the commander of this little vessel, and he knew he

would comply with his wishes in an exigency. Wherever the
" Firefly " might be, her boats could push well up the river.
" Your brother will give you escort in this command, with-
out the slightest hesitation ; and, once on a king's vessel,
you need no more," he said eagerly.
Eunice was surprised indeed.
" Could we wait for her, down yonder on the shore ? What
"
would these girls do in such a wilderness ?
" There will be no waiting," he said quietly but firmly.
" The moment I suspected your danger, —
I beg your pardon,

your anxiety, — I sent two of my. best men down the coast
to signal Drapier. His boats will be at La Bahia if you
determine to go. They will be there, on the chance of your
determining."
" Mr. Lonsdale ! how can I thank you
do thank you,
? 1
and you know I do. Let me call Ransom.
Major Barelo
shall give us the escort nay, we really need no escort to
;

Bahia. The girls shall be ready, and we will start an hour

before sunset to-morrow."
She called the old man at once. She gave her orders in
the tone which he knew meant there was to be no discussion.
She said no word of a secret to be preserved she had de- :

termined at once to trust the English spy's good faith. She

and her doves would be out of this Franciscan and Moorish
cage before the setting of another sun. Better trust an Eng-
lish spy than the tender mercies of Nemisio de Salcedo, or
the ingenious wiles of Father Jeronimo and his brothers 1

Major Barelo was surprised, of course, but clearly enough

he also was relieved. Lonsdale was right when he guessed
that Elguezebal and he could easily give escort between the
fort and the bay, while they might not send any troops as far
away as the Red River. "With my consent not a bird
should leave Texas for Louisiana " this was always Salcedo's
;

motto. The wonder was that he himself crossed tliat sacred

barrier.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 263

And by five o'clock of the next day the dresses were packed,
and the good-bys were said. Old Ransom had drawn the
last strap two holes farther up than earlier packers had left
it. He had scolded the last stable-boy, and then made him
rich for life by scattering among all the boys a handful of
rials, —
" bits " as he called them. He had lifted the girls to
their saddles, while Miss Eunice more sedately mounted from
the parapet of the stairs ; and then the two troops, one Eng-
lish in every saddle and stirrup, the other French as well in
its least detail, filed out into the plaza. Both were extraor-
dinary to a people of horsemen, whose Spanish equipments
were the best in the world. Major Barelo and dear Aunt
Dolores stood on the gallery ; and he flung out his handker-
chief, and said, " Good-by."
" Just as dear papa said on the levee Oh, dearest auntie,!

if he could only be there to meet us Why, auntie, it was a

!

year ago this living day " !

Sure enough, it was just a year since the little Inez's jour-
neyings had begun. She was a thousand years older.
An hour's ride out of town, and then the sun was down j
but here were the tents pitched and waiting for them. So
like last year ! but so unlike ! No old Caesar, alas ! Inez's
last care had been to visit him in the lock-up, and to promise
him all papa's influence for his release. No Phil Nolan,
alas !and no Will Harrod Eunice confessed to Lonsdale
!

that, if she had had imagination enough to foresee the

wretched recollections of the camp, she could not have braved
them. But Inez, dear child, was truly brave. She said no
word. She was pale and thoughtful ; but she applied her-
self to the little cares of the encampment, which a year ago
she would have lazily left to her cavaliers, and she made the
White Hawk join her.
Lonsdale also was eager and careful. But oh the differ-
ence between the elaborated services of this man, trained in
cities, and the easy attentions of those others, born to the

wilderness, and all at home in it

264 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Ransom, with all his feminine sympathy, felt the lack of

what they had last year, and managed, in his way, to supply
it better than any one else could. His vassals had served
the supper better than could have been hoped; the beds
were ready for the ladies, and as soon as the short and quiet
meal was over they retired.
Lonsdale lighted a cigar, called the old man to him, and
invited him to join him. No, he would not smoke, never did
but when Lonsdale repeated his invitation he sat down.
" You are quite right, Mr. Ransom. The ladies like this
camp-life better than any quarters they would have given us
yonder."
He pointed over his shoulder at some little buildings of an
outpost of the " Mission."
Ransom did not conceal his disgust as he looked round.
" See the critters furder," said he " treat us jest as they
:

treated them redskins last spring when they got um. They
would ef they wanted to. See um furder. Et's them cussed
black goats 'n rope-yarn men that's at the bottom o' this war
agin the cap'n — Cap'n Nolan. The cap'n couldn't stand
um, he couldn't ; he told um so, he did. He gin um a bit of
his mind. Cussed critters never forgot it, they didn't never —
forgot it. Cap'n gin um a bit of his mind, he did. Cussed
critters is at the bottom of this war. See um furder."
" But you have to see them a good deal at Orleans, Mr.
Ransom, do you not ? There is no Protestant church there,
is there ?
" Guess not. Ain't no meetin'-house there, and no meetin'.
Ain't nothing but eyedolaters, 'n' immigis, 'n' smoke-pans,
'n' boys in shirts. See um guess we do, the critters.
1

Bishop comes round to dine. Likes good Madeira and

Cognac 'zwell 'zanybody, he does. Poor set, all on um.
Ignorant critters. Don't know nothin'. No ain't no meet- !

in'-house in Orleans."
" Do they give Mr. Perry or Miss Perry any trouble about
their religion .?Do they wish them to come to church, or to
the confessional ? Did they baptize Miss Inez ?
"
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 265

" Do they ? um git Mr. Perry to church ef he didn't

I see
want to go and the old man chuckled enigmatically.
!
"
" They's ignorant critters, they is ; but they knows enough not
to break they own heads, they do."
" You have heard of the inquisition ? " persisted Lonsdale.
" Guess I have. Seen the cussed critters when I was at
Cadiz in the Jehu that's nineteen years ago last summer.
:
'
'

Never had none here to Orleans, never but once " And !

this time he chuckled triumphantly. " They didn't stay long

then, they didn't. Went
off quicker than they come, they
did. I know um. Cussed critters."
Lonsdale was curious, and asked for an explanation.
The old man's face beamed delight. He looked up to the
stars, and told this story :
—
" Best guv'nor they ever had, over there to Orleans, was a
man named Miro. Spoke English heself most as well as I
do. Married Miss Maccarty, he did pretty Irish girl. —
Wasn't no real Spanisher at all. Well, one day, they comes
one of these dirty rascals with a rope's end round him —
brown blanket coat on —
comes up from Cuba, he does —
comes to Gov. Miro. Gov. Miro asked him to dinner, he
did, and gin him his quarters. Then the cussed fool sends a
note to the guv'nor, 'n he says, sez he, that these under-
ground crittefs, these Inky Sijoan they calls um over there ;

they'd sent him, they had, says he; and mebbe he should
want a file o' soldiers some night. Says so in a letter
to the guv'nor. So the guv'nor, he thought, ef Old Night-
gown wanted the soldiers he'd better have um. 'N' he sent
round a sergeant 'n' a file of men that night, he did, at mid-
night, 'n' waked up Old Nightgown in his bed. 'N' Old
Nightgown says, says he, he was much obliged, but that
night he didn't need um. But the sergeant says, says he,
that he needed Old Nightgown, 'n' as soon as the old fool
got his rawhide shoes tied on, the corporal marched him
down to the levee, 'n' sent him off to Cadiz, he did ; 'n' that's
the last time the Inky Sijoan men come here 'n' the fust —
2 66 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

time too. Gov. Miro the best guv'nor they ever had over
there. Half Englishman."
Lonsdale appreciated the compliment. His cigar was
finished. He bade the old man good-night, and turned in.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 267

CHAPTER XXVI.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
" So they resolved, the morrow next ensuing,
So soon as day appeared to people's viewing.
On their intended journey to proceed
And overnight whatso thereto did need
Each did prepare, in readiness to be.
The morrow next, so soon as one might see
Light out of heaven's windows forth to look,
They their habiliments unto them took,
And put themselves, in God's name, on their way."
Mother HuhberiPs Tale.

So short a journey as that from San Antonio to the Gulf

seemed nothing to travellers so experienced as Miss Perry
and her niece. As for the White Hawk, she was never so
happy as in the open air, and especially as on horseback.
She counted all time lost that was spent elsewhere, and was
frank enough to confess that she thought that they had all
escaped from a feverish wild dream, or what was as bad as
such, in coming away from those close prison walls. The
glorious weather of October, in a ride over the prairies in one
of the loveliest regions of the world, could not but raise the
spirits of all the ladies ; and Mr. Lonsdale might well con-
gratulate himself on the successful result of his bold applica-
tion to Miss Perry.
As they approached the Gulf, he kept some lookouts well
in advance, in hope of sighting the boat or boats from the
" Firefly " which he expected. But Friday night came with
no report from these menj and, although they had not
268 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

returned, he was fain to order a halt, after conference with

Ransom, on a little flat above a half-bluff which looked down
upon the stream. The short twilight closed in on them as
they made their supper. But after the supper was finished,
as they strolled up and down before going to bed, a meteor,
far more brilliant than any shooting star could be so near
the horizon, rose above the river in the eastern distance ; and
as they all wondered another arose, and yet another.
" Rockets " cried Mr. Lonsdale well pleased. " Roberts
!

has found them ; and this is their short-hand way of telling

us that they are at hand. — William," he said, turning to the
thoroughly respectable servant who in top-boots and buck-
skins followed his wanderings in these deserts, — " William,

find something which you can show to them." The man of

all arts disappeared ; and, while the girls were yet looking for

another green star in the distance, they were startled by the

" shirr-r " of a noisy rocket which rose close above their own
heads, and burst beautiful above the still waters. Another
and another followed in quick succession, and the reply was
thus secure. The White Hawk was beside herself with
delight. She watched the firing of No. 2 as Eunice might
have watched the skilful manipulations of Mme. Le Brun.
William was well pleased by her approbation. He did not
bend much from the serenity of a London valet's bearing,
but he did permit the White Hawk herself to apply the
burning brand to the match of the third rocket. The girl
screamed with delight as she saw it burst, and as the falling
stick plunged into the river.
" To-morrow morning. Miss Inez, your foot is on the deck,
and these pleasant wanderings of ours are over forever."
Even Inez's severity toward the man she tried to hate gave
way at his display — so difficult for a man of his make — of
emotion which was certainly real and deep.
" But, Mr. Lonsdale, no Englishman will convince me that
he is sorry to be on the sea."
" Cela dipend. I shall be sorry if the sea parts me from
near and dear friends."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 269

" As if I meant to be sentimental witli old Chisholm or

Conolly, because he had been good to us "
!
This was
Inez's comment as she repeated the conversation to her aunt
afterward. " I was not going to be affectionate to him."
" What did you say ? " asked Eunice, laughing.
"I said I afraid Ma-ry would be seasick," said the
was
reckless girl. " I thought that would take off the romance
for him." None the less could Eunice see that the rancor of
her rage and hatred were much abated, as is the fortune
often of the wild passions of that age of discretion which
comes at eighteen years.
Mr. Lonsdale had not promised more than he performed.
Before the ladies were astir the next morning, two boats were
at an improvised landing below the tents. Ransom had
transferred to them already all the packs from the mules
and there needed only that breakfast should be over, and
the ladies' last " traps " were embarked also, and they were
themselves on board. A boatswain in charge received Mr.
Lonsdale with tokens of respect which did not escape Inez's
eye. As for the White Hawk, she was beside herself with
wonder at the movements of craft so much more powerful
than any thing to which the little river of San Antonio had
trained her. As the sun rose higher the seamen improvised
an awning. The current of the river, such as it was, aided
them ; and before two o'clock the little party was on the deck
of the " Firefly " in the offing.
Nothing is prettier than the eagerness of self-surrender
with which naval officers always receive women on their
ships. The chivalry of a gentleman, the homesickness of an
exile, the enthusiasm of a host, —welcome those
all unite to
whose presence is so rare that they are made
all the more

comfortable because there is no provision for them in a state

of nature. In this case, the gentlemen had had some days'
notice that the ladies might be expected.
It was clear that Lonsdale was quite at home among them,

and was a favorite. Even the old salts who stood at the
270 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

gangway smiled approval of him as he stepped on board.

He presented young Drapier and Clerk, the two lieutenants
who held the first and second rank ; and then, with careful
impartiality, the group of midshipmen who stood behind.
Then he spoke to every one of them separately. " Good
news from home. Bob ? Mr. Anson, I hope the admiral is
well ; and how is your excellent father, Mr. Pigot ? " A
moment more, and a bronzed, black^browed man, in a mili-
tary undress, came out from the companion. He smiled as
he gave his hand to Lonsdale, who owned his surprise at
meeting him.
" Miss Perry," said he at once, " here is one friend more,

whom you have heard of but never seen. One never knows
where to look for the general," he said, laughing, " or I also
should be surprised. Let me present to you Gen. Bowles,
Miss Perry. Miss Inez, this is Gen. Bowles, — I think I
might say a friend of your father's."
This extraordinary man smiled good-naturedly, and said, —
" Yes, a countryman of yours and of your brother's, Miss
Perry ; and all countrymen are friends. The people in
Orleans do not love me as well as I love the Americans who
live among them."
Eunice was not disposed to be critical. " Mr. Lonsdale is
very kind ; and I am sure we poor wandering damsels are
indebted to all these gentlemen for their welcome," said she.

She had learned long since, that in times like hers, and in
such surroundings, she must not discriminate too closely as
to the antecedents of those with whom she had to do. Inez
could afford to have " hates " and " instincts," like most
young ladies of her age. But Eunice had passed thirty, and
was willing to accept service from Galaor, if by ill luck she
could not command the help of Amadis. The truth was, that
Gen. Bowles had been known to her only as a chief of
marauding Highlanders might have been known to a lady of
Edinburgh. For many years he had been, in the Spanish
wars against England, the daring commander of the savage
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 271

allies of the English. He

was her countryman, because he
was born in Maryland. Howe came to
But, as soon as Gen.
Philadelphia, Bowles had enlisted as a boy in the British
army. It was after the most wild life that ever an adventurer
led, —now in dungeons and now in palaces, —
that she met
him on the deck of an English cutter.
His eye fell upon Inez with the undisguised admiration
with which men were apt to look on Inez. When he was
presented to Ma-ry in turn, he was quick enough to recognize
— he hardly could have told how — something of the savage
training of this She looked as steadily into his eye as
girl.

he into hers. Compliment came into conversation with less

disguise in those days than in these ; and so the general
did not hesitate to say, —
" But for that rich bloom. Miss Ma-ry, upon your cheek, I
should have been glad to claim you as the daughter of a
chief, —a chief among men who have not known how to
write treaties, nor to break them."
Ma-ry probably did not follow his stately and affected sen-
tence.
" My name on the prairies is the White Hawk," said she
simply.
" Well named," cried Bowles ; and he looked to Eunice for

an explanation, which of course she quickly gave. The

passage was instantaneous, as, among the group of courteous
gentlemen, the ladies were led to the cabin of the captain,
which he had relinquished for them but it was the begin-
;

ning of long conferences between Gen. Bowles and the

White Hawk, in which, with more skill than Eunice had
done, or even Harrod, he traced out her scanty recollection
of what her mother had fold her of the life to which she was
born.
The stiffness of the reception and welcome of the ladies
was broken, and all conversation for the moment was made
impossible, by the escape of two pets of the girls, from the
arms of a sailor, who had attempted to bring them up the
272 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

ladder. They were little .Chihuahua dogs, — pretty little

creatures of the very smallest of the dog — which

race,

Lonsdale had presented when he had returned to San An-

tonio, as one of the steps, perhaps, by which he might work
into Inez's variable favor. The little things found their feet
on deck, and dashed about among swivels, cat-heads, casks,
and other furniture, in a way which delighted the midship-
men, confounded the old seamen, and set both the girls
screaming with laughter. After such an adventure, and the
recapture of Trip and Skip, formality was impossible and, ;

when the ladies disappeared into Lieut. Drapier's hospitable

quarters, all parties had the ease of manner of old friends.
Ransom, with his own sure tact, and under the law of
"natural selection," — whichwas true before Dr. Darwin
was born, — found his way company of the
at once into the
warrant-officers. Indeed, he might be well described by call-
ing him a sort of warrant-officer, which means a man who
takes much of the work and much of the responsibility of
this world, and yet has very little of the honor. As the men
hauled up the little anchor, and got the boats on board, after
Ransom had seen his share of luggage of the party fairly

secured, an old sailor's habits came over him ; and he could

hardly help, although a visitor, lending a hand.
It was not the first time he had been on the deck of an
English man-of-war ; but never before had he been there as
a distinguished visitor. He also, like his mistress, if Eunice
were his mistress, knew how to conquer his prejudices. And,
indeed, the order and precision of man-of-war's-man's style,

after the slackness, indolence,and disobedience of the Greas-

ers,was joy to his heart. He could almost have found it in
him to exempt these neat English tars from the general doom
which would fall on all "furriners." At the least, they could
not speak French, Spanish, or Choctaw ; and with this old
quartermaster who offered him a lighted pipe, and with the
boatswain who gave him a tough tarred hand, he could
indulge in the vernacular.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 273

Hardly were these three mates established in a comfort-

able nook forward under the shade of the foresail, when an
older man than the other Englishman presented himself, and
tipped his hat to Ransom respectfully in a somewhat shame-
faced fashion.
T'he old man looked his surprise, and relieved the other's
doubts by giving him a hard hand-grip cordially.
" Why, Ben, boy, be ye here ? Where did ye turn up
from?"
The man said he enlisted in Jamaica two years before.
" Jes so, the old story. Can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Have some tobaccy, Ben ? Perhaps all on ye will like to try
the Greasers' tobaccy. Et's the only thing they's got that's
good for any thing, And he administered enormous
et is."
plugs of the Mexican tobacco to each of his comrades,
neither of whom was averse to a new experiment in that line.
" Woll, Ben, et's a good many years since I see ye. See ye
last the day Count Dystang sailed out o' Bostin Harbor.
Guess ye didn't go aloft much that v'y'ge, Ben ?
The other laughed, and intimated that people did not go
aloft easily when they had handcuffs on. The truth was, he
had been a prisoner of war, and, under some arrangements
made by the Committee of Safety, had been transferred to
the French admiral's care.
" 'N when did ye see Mr. Conolly, Ben ? " asked Ransom,
with a patronizing air.

The man had never forgotten him, that

said Mr. Conolly
" he was good to him," as his phrase was, and got him ex-
changed from the French fleet. But Mr. Conolly afterward
went to Canada and Ben had never heard from him again.
;

"I've heerd on him often," said Ransom, with his eyes

twinkling: " Guv'nor o' Kannydy sent him down here to spy
out the country. Thort they wa'n't no rope to hang him
with, he did didn't know where hemp grew.
: Down comes
Conolly, and he sees the gineral, that's Wilkinson, up river
'n he tells the gineral, and all the ginerals, they'd better fight
274 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

for King George, he does, 'n that the king's pay was better
nor Gineral Washington's. Darned fool, he was. Gineral
Wilkinson fooled him. Major Dunn fooled him, all on um
fooled him. Thought he'd bought um all out, he did!"
and Ransom chuckled, in his happiest mood ; " thought he'd
bought um ; 'n jest then in come a wild fellow, — hunter, — 'n

he asked where the English kurnel was, he did, 'nhe says the
redskins 'n the English 'd killed his father 'n mother ; 'n he
says he'll have the kurnel's scalp to pay for it ; 'n after he
hollered round some time, old Wilkinson he put him in irons,
'n sent him away ; 'n then the kurnel Conolly —
he took —
on so, 'n was so afeerd he'd be scalped, that he asked the
gineral for an escort, he did, 'n so he went home. Gineral
gin the hunter a gallon o' whiskey, 'n five pounds of powder,
to come in there 'n holler round so."
And old Ransom contemplated the sky, in silent approval
of the deceit. After a pause he said, —
" They wus some on um over there among the Greasers,
thought this man was Col. Conolly " (pause again), " They

didn't ask me, 'n I didn't tell um. I knew better. I see

Conolly when I see you fust, Ben " (grim smile), " when we
put the irons on you, aboard the ' Cerberus '
'fore she went
down. I knew Conolly." Another pause ; then, somewhat
tentatively, —
"This man I never see before; but he knows how to
saddle his own horse, he does ; " this in approval, Lonsdale

being " this man " referred to.

The others said that they took " this man " into Vera Cruz
the winter before, with his servants. The talk of the " Fire-
fly " was, that while they had been sounding in Corpus
Christi Bay they had been waiting for him. Who he was,
they did not know, but believed he was First Lord of the
Admiralty, or may be a son of Lord Anson, or perhaps of
some other grandee.
" Ye don't think he's that one that was at New York, do
you ? " said Ransom. " I mean the Juke, they called him —
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 275

old king's son. I come mighty near carrying liim off myself
one night, in a whale-boat."
The men showed little indignation at this allusion to Royal
William, the Duke of Clarence, —
" by England's navy all

adored," though that gentleman was said to be. But they

expressed doubts, though no one knew, whether Mr. Lonsdale
were he. If he were, the midshipmen were either ignorant
or bold for, when Inez compelled them to sing that evening,
;

they sang rapturously, —

" When Royal William comes on board,
By England's navy all adored,
To him sometimes pass the word,
I
For I'm a smart young midshipman."

The White Hawk proved a better sailor than Eunice had

dared to hope. Her wonder at what seemed to her the
immense size of the little vessel, and at all its equipment
and movement, was a delight to Inez and even to the less
demonstrative Ransom. The young gentlemen were divided
in their enthusiastic attentions to these charming girls, and
the three or four days of their little voyage were all too

short for the youngsters when, with a fresh north-west

;

breeze, they entered the south-western mouths of the great

Mississippi River, and so long as this breeze served them
held on to the main current of the stream. For that current
itself, the breeze was dead ahead, and so the " Firefly
came again to an anchor, to the grief of the ladies more than
young admirers.
of their
Eunice Perry and her " doves " had retired to dress for
dinner, when, from a French brig which was at anchor hard
by, a boat was dropped, which pulled hastily across to the
Englishman. In these neutral waters there was no danger
in any event, but a white handkerchief fluttered at her bow.
A handsome young man in a French uniform ran up on the
" Firefly's " deck. He spoke a word to Capt. Drapier, but
276 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

hardly more; for, as they exchanged the first civilities, Eunice

and Inez rushed forward from the companion, and Inez's

arms were around his neck.
" My dear, dear brother I
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 277

CHAPTER XXVII.

HOME AS FOUND,
" And I will see before I die
The palms and temples of the South."
Tennyson.
" Is
not perfectly lovely ? " said Inez to her brother, as
it

she ran ashore over the little plank laid for a gangway. " Is
itnot perfectly lovely ? " And she flung her arms about him,
and kissed him, as her best way of showing her delight that
she and he were both at home.
"
You are, pussy," said Roland, receiving the caress with
asmuch enthusiasm as she gave it with " and so is the White
;

Hawk, whom I will never call Ma-ry ; and to tell you the
whole truth, and not to quarrel with you the first morning of
home, dear old Orleans is not an unfit setting for such jewels.
"
Oh, dear how good it is to be at home
! !

The young officer seemed as young as Inez in his content ;

and Inez forgot her trials for the minute, in the joy of having
him, of hearing him, and seeing him.
So soon as Mr. Perry had understood the happy meeting
at the river's mouth, he also had boarded the " Firefly."
Matters had indeed fallen out better than even he had
planned ; and the embarkation planned in grief by Eunice,
and in what seemed loyalty by Mr. Lonsdale, proved just
what all would have most desired. Mr. Perry had the pleas-
ure of announcing to Lieut. Drapier and the other English
officers peace between England and France. They had
heard of the hopes of this, but till now the announcement
278 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

had lingered. At the dinner improvised on the deck of

little

the " Firefly," many were drunk to the eternal peace of

toasts
England and France \ but, alas the winds seem to have dis-
!

persed them before they arrived at any mint which stamped

them for permanent circulation.
With all due courtesies, Mr. Perry had then taken his own
family on board the "Antoinette," a little brig which he had
chartered at Bordeaux, that he might himself bring out this
news. Of course he begged Mr. Lonsdale to join them as
soon as he knew that that gentleman's plan of travel was to
take him to Orleans. Drapier and Clerk manifested some
surprise when they learned of this plan of travel, as they
had supposed the " Firefly " was to take him to Jamaica.
They learned now, for the first time, that Lonsdale had
errands at Fort Massac and the falls of the Ohio and Fort
Washington. The young officers looked quizzically at each
other behind his back, as if to ask how long he might be
detained at Orleans. But whoever Lonsdale was, and how-
ever good a friend he was, they did not dare to talk banter
to him, — as Miss Inez and as Ransom did not fail to
observe.
So with long farewells, and promises to meet again, the two
vessels parted. Gen. Bowles said to Eunice, as he bade
them good-by, that he was the only person on board the
" Firefly " who was not raging with indignation at the change

of plans. " The middies are beside themselves," he said.

" So, indeed, am I but my grief is a little assuaged by the
;

recollection that Gov. Salcedo would hang me in irons in

fifteen minutes after the Firefly
'
arrived.' True, this is a
trifling price to pay for the pleasure of sailing along the

coast with three charming ladies ; but if I do not pay it, I

have the better chance to see them again."
" And also," he added more gravely, " I have the better

chance to learn something of this Apache raid in which your

interesting charge was carried from home, of which, Miss
Perry, I will certainly inform you."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 279

The " Antoinette "

had slowly worked her way up the
stream. At on the second night, she was still
nightfall,
thirty miles from the city. But, as the sun rose on the
morning of the third day, Roland had tapped at the door of
the ladies' cabin, and had told them that they were at the
levee in front of the town. Of course Inez and Ma-ry were
ready for action in a very few moments and, as Roland ;

waited eager for them, they joined him for a little ramble, in
which Inez should see his delight as he came home, and
both of them should see Ma-ry's wonder.
It is hard even for the resident in New Orleans of to-day
to carry himself back to the little fortified town which Inez
so rejoiced to see. As it happens, we have the ill-tempered
narrative which a M. Duvallar, a cockney Parisian, gave, at
just the same time, of his first impressions. But he saw as a
seasick Frenchman eager to see the streets of Paris sees :

Inez saw as a happy girl sees, who from her first wanderings
returns home with so much that she loves best. The first
wonder to be seen was a wonder to Inez as to the others it :

was the first vessel ever built in Ohio to go to sea. She lay
in the stream, proudly carrying the American colors at each
peak, and was the marvel of the hour. But Inez cared little
for schooners, brigs, or ships.
She hurried her brother to the Place d'Armes, which sepa-
rated the river from two buildings, almost Moorish in their
look, which were the public offices, and which were separated
by the quaint cathedral, —
another bit of Old Spain. Over
wooden walks, laid upon the clay of the banquette or side-
walk, she hurried him through one and another narrow
street, made up of square wooden houses, never more than a
story high, and always offering a veranda or "galerie" to
the street front. Between the banquette and the roadway,
a deep gutter, neatly built, gave room for a little brook, if
one of the pitiless rains of the country happened to flood the
town. Little bridges across these gutters, made by the elon-
gation of the wooden walks, required, at each street-crossing.
28o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

a moment's care on the part of the passenger. All this, to

the happy Inez, was of course j to the watchful White Hawk,

was amazement ; and to Roland all was surprise, that in so
many thousand details he had forgotten how the home of his
childhood differed from the Paris of his manly life. The
fine fellow chattered as Inez chattered, explained to the
White Hawk as he thought she needed, and was every whit
as happy as Inez wanted him to be. " There is dear M. Le
Bourgeois. He does not see us. Monsieur Monsieur !

You have not forgotten us, have you ? Here is little Inez
back again. And how are they at Belmont ? Give ever so
much love to them " And then, as she ran on, " And there
!

is Jean Audubon Jean, Jean " and when the handsome

!
!

young fellow crossed the street, and gave her both hands,
"Oh, I have such beautiful heron's wings for you from An-
tonio ; and Ransom has put up two nice chapparal birds for
you, and a crane. I made Major Barelo shoot him for me.
And, Jean did you ever see a Chihuahua dog ? Ma-ry and
!

I have two, —
the prettiest creatures you ever did see. This
is Ma-ry, Mr. Audubon. —
How do you do, Mme. Fourchet ?
We are all very well, I thank you."
So they walked back from the river, —
not many squares
the houses were farther and farther apart ; and at last a
long fence, made of cypress boards roughly split, and higher
than their heads, parted them from a garden of trees and
shrubs blazing with color and with fruit. The fence ran
along the whole square ; and now the little Inez fairly flew
along the banquette she came to a gateway which gave
till

passage into the garden. Here she instantly struck a bell

which hung just within the fence ; and there, protected by a
rough shelter, —
a sort of wooden awning, arranged for the
chance of rain, —
she jumped with impatience as she waited
for the others to arrive, and for some one within to open.
She had not to wait long. In a minute Ransom flung
the gate open, and the girl stood within the garden of her
father's house. The old man had landed long before them,
 OR, ".SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 281

and had come up to the house to satisfy himself that all was
fit for the family and its guests.

" Come, Ma-ry, come " cried Inez, as she dashed along
!

a winding brick alley, between palm-trees and roses, and

myrtles and bananas, oranges in fruit, great masses of mag-
nolia cones beginning to grow red, and the thousand other
wonders of a well-kept garden in this most beautiful of cities,
in a climate which is both temperate and tropical at a time.
" Oh, come, Ma-ry do come, Roland
! Welcome home!

welcome home !

She dashed up the broad high steps of the pretty house,

to a broad veranda, or " gallery," near twelve feet deep,
which surrounded it on every side. Doors flung wide open
gave entrance to a wide hall which ran quite through the
house, a double door of Venetian blind closing the hall at
the other end. 1

On either side, large doors opened into very high rooms,

the floors of which, of a shining cypress wood, were covered
in the middle by mats and carpets. The shade of the "gal-
lery " was sufficient in every instance to keep even the morn-
ing sunlight of that early hour from the rooms. Ransom's
forethought, and that of a dozen negro servants who were
waiting to welcome her, had already made the rooms gor-
geous with flowers.
The happy girl had a word for every Chloe and Miranda
and Zenon and Antoine of all the waiting group and then ;

she was beside herself as she tried at once to enjoy Roland's

satisfaction, and to introduce Ma-ry to her new home. It

was impossible to be disappointed. Roland was as well

pleased and as happy as she could wish ; and, because she
was so happy, the White Hawk was happy too.
" See, Roland, here is the picture of Mme. Josephine
you sent us. And here is your great First Consul ; and very
handsome he is too, though he is so stern, I should think
Mme. Bonaparte would be afraid of him. See, I hung them
here. Papa had hung them just the other way, and you see
282 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

they looked away from each other. But I told him that
would never do it seemed as: if they had been quarrelling."
" Madame's picture is not good enough, as I told you
when I sent it. The But nothing gives
general's
is better.

his charming smile. You must make papa tell you of that.
I wish we had Eugene's. If he becomes the great general
he means to be, we shall have his picture engraved and
framed by the general's side."
" Oh there are to be no more wars, you know.
! Eugene
will be a planter, and raise sugar, as his father did. We
shall never hear of Gen. Beauharnais again."
And then she had to take Ma-ry into her own room, and
show her all the arrangements in which a young girl delights.
And Ransom was made happy by seeing Mr. Roland again
at home. And these joys of a beginning were not well
over before the carriage arrived from the " Antoinette "
with the more mature elders of the party, who had not been
above taking things easily, and riding from the levee to the
house.
But it was impossible not to see at breakfast that Mr.
Perry was silent and sad, in the midst of all his effort to be
hospitable to Mr. Lonsdale, and to make his son's return
cheerful. And at last, when breakfast was over, he said
frankly, "We are all so far friends, that I .may as well tell

you what has grieved me. Panton came on board as we

left the vessel.
" He tells me that this horrid business yonder has been
too much for the poor girl."
Inez's face was as pale as a [Link] had never spoken
to her father -of the beautiful lady whose picture Philip
Nolan had showed her. She had always supposed that
there was a certain confidence or privacy about his marriage
to Fanny Lintot ; and, as the reader knows, not even to
Eunice had she whispered it before they heard of his death.
But now it was clear that her father knew ; and he knew
more than she knew.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 283

" Yes," continued Mr. Perry. " There is a child who will
never remember his father and mother. But this pretty-
Fanny Lintot, not even the child could keep her alive.
'
What should I wish to live for ? the poor child said.
' I '

shall never know what happiness is in this world. I did not

think I should be so fortunate as to join my dear Phil so
soon.' And so she joined him."
Poor Inez She could not bear this. She ran out of the
!

room, and the White Hawk followed her.

284 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

CHAPTER XXVIII.

" Who saw the Duke of Clarence ?

"
Henry IV.

" Aunt Eunice," said Roland, with all his own impetu-
osity, when they had all met for dinner, " there is no such

soup as a gumbo fild, —

no, not at Malmaison. Crede exper'to,
which means, my dear aunt, 'I know what I am talking
about.' And, as Madame Casa Calvo is not here, you may
help me again."
"Dear Roland, I will help you twenty times," said his
aunt, who was as fond of him as his mother would have
been, and, indeed, quite as proud. " I am glad we can hold

our own with Malmaison in any thing."

" We beat Malmaison in many things. We beat Malmai-
son in roses, though Mile. Hortense has given me a '
Souve-
nir '
from there, before which old Narcisse will bow down in
worship. But we have more than roses. We beat Malmai-
son in pretty girls," this with a mock bow to the White
Hawk and to Inez ;
" and we beat her in gumbo."
" How is it in soldiers, Mr. Perry ? " said Mr. Lonsdale,
with some real curiosity. "
And is it true that we are to see
the renowned Gen. Victor here with an army ?
"That you must ask my father," said the young fellow
boldly. " He is the diplomatist of the family. I dare say
he has settled it all with Mme. Josephine, while I was
obtaining from Mile. Hortense some necessary directions
about the dressing of my sister's hair. —
My dear Inez, it is to
be cut short in front, above the eyebrows, and to flow loosely
behind, & la Naiade affranchie."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 285

" Nonsense " said Inez. " Did not Mile. Hortense tell
!

you that ears were to be worn boxed on the right side and
cuffed on the left ? She was too kind to your impudence."
" She made many inquiries regarding yours. And, dear
Aunt Eunice," she asked me many questions which I could
not answer. Now that I arrive upon the Father of Waters, I
am prudent and docile. I whisper no word which may
awake the proud Spaniard against the hasty Gaul or the neu-
tral American. I reveal no secret, Mr. Lonsdale, in the
presence of the taciturn Briton all the same I look on and
:

wonder. The only place for my inquiries —where I can at

once show my modesty and my ignorance —
is at the hospit-

able board of Miss Eunice Perry. She soothes me with

gumbo fild, she bribes me with red-fish and pompano ; in the
distance I see cotelettes and vol-au-vents, and I know not
what else, which she has prepared to purchase my silence.
All the same, I throw myself at the feet of this company,
cfwn my gross ignorance, and ask for light,
" Let me, dear Mr. Lonsdale, answer your question as I
can. Many generals have I met, in battle, in camp, or in
the ballroom. Gen. Bonaparte is my protector ; Gen. Mo-
reau examined in tactics ; Gen. Casa Bianca is my friend
me
Gen. Hamilton is my distinguished countryman. But who,
my dear Aunt Eunice, is Gen. Bowles ? and of what nation
was the somewhat remarkable uniform which he wore the day
I had the honor to meet you, and to assure you that you had
grown young under your anxieties for your nephew ?
Now, if there were a subject which Eunice would have
wished to have avoided at that moment, it was the subject
which the audacious young fellow had introduced.
In spite of her, her face flushed.
" He served against the Spaniards at Pensacola," said
she, with as much calmness as she could command. Every-
body was looking at her, so that she could not signal him to
silence ; and Mr. Lonsdale was close at her side, so that he
heard every word.
286 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" A countryman of yours, Mr. Lonsdale ? Where, then,

"
was the red coat ? where the Star and Garter ?
Lonsdale was not quick enough to follow this badinage ; or
he was perhaps as much annoyed as Eunice, that the sub-
ject was opened.
" Gen. Bowles is not in the king's service," he said ; " yet
he is well thought of at the Foreign Office. I dined with him
at Lord Hawksbury's."
" At Lord Hawksbury's ? " said Mr. Perry, surprised out
of the silence he had maintained all along.
Lonsdale certainly was annoyed this time, and annoyed at
his own carelessness ; for he would not have dropped the
words, had he had a moment for thought. His face flushed,
but he said, —
" Yes. It was rather a curious party. Gen. Miranda was
there, who means to free Mexico and Cuba and the Spanish
main, — the South American Washington of the future. Miss
Inez. This Gen. Bowles was there, in the same fanciful urri-
form he wears to-day. There was an attacht of your lega-
tion there, I forget his name ; and no end of people who
spoke no English. But I understood that Gen. Bowles was
an American. I did not suppose I should be the person to
introduce him to you."
"Why does Lord Hawksbury ask Gen. Bowles to meet
Gen. Miranda, sir ? " said Roland, turning to his father.

"Why do I ask an klive of the ficole Polytechnique to

meet Mr. Lonsdale ? — Mr. Lonsdale, that Bordeaux wine is
good; but, if you hold to your island prejudices. Ransom
shall bring us some port which my own agent bought in Por-
tugal."
" I hold by the Roland
claret," said Lonsdale, relieved, as
thought, that the subject was at an end. Now, Roland had
no thought of relieving him. If Englishmen came to Amer-
ica, he meant to make them show their colors.
" No man tells me," he said, " what nation that is whose
major-generals wear green frock-coats cut like Robin Hood's,
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 287

with wampum embroidered on the cuffs. I am only told

that this unknown nation is in alliance with King George
and Gen. Miranda."
" Gen. Bowles is the chief of an Indian tribe in this
region, I think," said Lonsdale, rather stiffly.
" Oho " cried the impetuous young fellow, " and the
1

Creeks and the Greasers, with some assistance from Lord

Hawksbury and King George, are to drive the King of Spain
out of Mexico. Is that on the cards, Mr. Lonsdale ? "
Lonsdale looked more confused than ever.
" You must ask your
father, Mr. Perry. He is the diplo-
matist, you say."
" But is this what the Governor of Canada is bothering
about ? Is this what he sent Chisholm and Conolly for, sir ? "
said Roland, turning to his father. " Not so bad a plot, if it
is."

The truth is, head was turned with the mili-

that Roland's
tary atmosphere in which he had lived and, like half the
;

youngsters of his time, he hoped that some good cause might

open up, in which he, too, could win spurs and glory.
At the allusion to Chisholm and Conolly, two secret agents
of the Canadian Government in the Valley of the Missis-
sippi, Inez turned to look gravely upon her aunt. As, by
good luck, Mr. Lonsdale's face was also turned toward
Eunice, Inez seized the happy opportunity to twirl her knife
as a chief might his scalping-knife. Ma-ry understood no
little of the talk, but managed, savage-like, to keep her

reserve. Mr. Perry felt his son's boldness, and was troubled
by it. He knew that all this talk must be annoying to the
Englishman.
" The plot was a very foolish plot, Roland, if it were such
a plot as you propose. If John Adams had been chosen
president again, instead of this man who is called so pacific,
— some things had not been done on the other side which
if

have been done, —

I think Gen. Hamilton might have

brought a few thousand of our countrymen down the river,

288 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

with Gen. Wilkinson to show him the way. Mr. Lonsdale

can you whether Admiral Nelson would have been wait-
tell

ing here with a fleet ; they do say there have been a few frig-
ates in the Gulf : as it is, all I know is, that fortunately for
us we found the '
Mr. Lonsdale knows, per-
Firefly ' there.
haps, whether a few regiments from Canada might not have
joined our men in the excursion. But we have changed all
that, my boy ; and you must take your tactics and your strate-
gies to some other field of glory."

_
The scheme of which Mr. Periy
truth was, that all the
spoke had been wrought out in the well-kept secrecy of John
Adams's cabinet. As he said himself once, such talent as
he had was for making war, more than for making peace.
As it proved, the majestic, and to us friendly policy of the
great Napoleon, gave us Louisiana without a blow j but in
the long line of onslaughts upon Spain, which the United
States have had to do with, this was the first.

The first Adams is the historical leader of the filibusters.

Miss Inez did not care a great deal about the politics of
the conversation. What she did care for was, that Lonsdale
appeared to be uncomfortable. This delighted her. Was he
Chisholm ? was he Conolly Her father had hushed up 'i

Roland, with a purpose. She could see that. But she did
not see that this involved any cessation in that guerilla war
with which he persecuted the Englishman.
" That must have been a very interesting party which you
describe, Mr. Lonsdale. Is Lord Hawksbury a good talker ?
"Yes —
hardly —
no, Miss Perry. He talks as most of
those men in office do he is all things to all men."
:

" Was the Duke of Clarence there t " said Inez, with one
bold, wild shot. Since Ransom had expressed the opinion
that their guest was this gentleman, Inez was determined to
know.
Lonsdale's face flushed fire this time ; or she thought it

did.
"The duke was there," he said: "it was just before he
sailed for Halifax."
 on, "SIIOIV YOUR PASSPORTS." 289

But here Eunice came She looked daggers

to his relief.
Mr. Lonsdale some question as
at the impertinent girl, asked
to Lieut. Drapier, and Inez and Roland were both so far
hushed that no further secrets of state were discussed on
that occasion.
290 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

CHAPTER XXIX.
" "
WHERE SHALL SHE GO ?
" From her infant days,
With Wisdom, mother of retired thoughts,
Her soul had dwelt and she was quick to mark
;

The good and evil thing, in human lore

Undisciplined."
Coleridge.

The White Hawk dropped into her new life with a sim-
plicity and naturalness which delighted everybody. From
the beginning Silas Perry was charmed with her. It was not
that he tolerated her as he would have tolerated any person
whom Eunice had thought best to introduce to his house
it was that by rapid stages he began by liking her, then was

fond of her, and then loved her. She was quite mistress of
the spoken English, so much so that Inez began to fear that
she would lose her pretty savage idioms and fascinating
blunders. Indeed, there were a few Apache phrases which
Inez insisted on retaining, with some slight modifications, in
their daily conversation. How much French and Spanish the
girl understood, nobody but herself knew. She never spoke
in either language.
It would be almost fair to say that Roland taught her more
than Inez did. In the first place, he taught Inez a good deal
which it was well for a provincial girl —a girl of two cities
as petty as Orleans and San Antonio — to learn, if she could
learn from her brother, seeing her life had been so much
it

restricted, and her outlook so much circumscribed. Roland

 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 291

was quick and impulsive ; so, indeed, was the White Hawk
but he was always patient in explaining himself to her, and
he would not permit Inez, for mere love's sake, or fancy's
sake, to overlook little savageries as he called them, in the
girl's habit or life, merely because they seemed pretty to her.
" She is an American girl," said he " by the grace of God
:

you have rescued her from these devils, and she shall never
be annoyed by having people call her a redskin." And never
had teacher a quicker pupil, never had Mentor a Telemachus
more willing, than the White Hawk proved to be under the
grave tutelage of Inez and her brother.
These pages, which are transparent as truth herself, may
here reveal one thing more. The present reader, also, has
proved herself sharp-sighted as Lynceus since she engaged
in reading these humble annals of the past. This reader has
observed, therefore, from the moment the " Firefly " met the
"Antoinette" in the South Pass, that the handsome young
American gentleman, and the beautiful girl rescued from
captivity, were placed in very near propinquity to each other,
and that they remained so. The author has not for a moment
veiled this fact from the reader, who is, indeed, too sharp-
sighted to be trifled with.
It is now to be stated that the White Hawk observed it
quite as soon as the reader has done. The White Hawk
maintained a very simple as it was a very intimate and sweet
relation with Roland Perry whenever she and he were with
Inez and Eunice, or the rest of the group which daily gathered
at his father's. But the White Hawk very seldom found herself
alone with Roland Perry ; and, when she did, the interview was
a very short one. Roland found himself sometimes retiring
early from the counting-room, wishing that she might be in
the way. But she never was in the way. He would prepare
one and another expedition to the lake, to the plantation-
house, and the like. On such expeditions the White Hawk
went freely if the whole party went ; but not for a walk or
ride out to the English Turn, did she go with him alone.
292 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Roland Perry did not know whether this was accident or no ;

did not even ask, perhaps. But it is as well that this reader
should understand the girl, and should know it was no
accident at all.

One day they had gone together to a pretty meadow by

all

the lake, under the pretence of seeing some races which the
officers of the garrison had arranged. Roland took the
occasion to try his chances in sounding Ma-ry about a matter
where he had not had full success in his consultations with
his aunt.
" Ma-ry," said he, " tell me about the night when Inez was
lost in Texas, — by the river, you know."
" Oh, poor Inez She was so tired ! she
! was so cold " !

" How in the world did you find her ? "

" Oh, ho ! Easy to find her ! I went where she went.
Footstep here, footstep there, footstep all along. Leaf here
and leaf there — broken leaf, torn leaf — all along. Then I
heard her She cried war-whoop,
cry. hoo, hoo, hoo! just — —
as I taught her one day. Easy to find her."
" And you brought her in on your b^ck ? "
" No nonsense, Mr. Perry. You know she came on foot,
:

the same as she walks now with Mr. Lonsdale."

" And the others —
were they all at home while you looked
forher?"
" At home Dear auntie was by the fire, waiting, and
?

praying to the good God. Ransom, he built up the fire,

made it burn, so I saw the smoke, red smoke, high, high,
above the black-jacks and the hack-berries. Black men, —
some at home, some away. All the rest were gone."
" This Capt. Harrod, —
where was he, Ma-ry ? "
"Oh! Capt. Harrod? Capt. Will Harrod ? Capt. Harrod
rode, — had rode, —
no, Capt. Harrod had ridden back. All
wrong all wrong. Had ridden back on the trail
; on the —
old trail ; ridden fast, ridden well, ridden brave, but all

wrong. Had ridden back to camp where we had lunch that

same day. All wrong. Poor Capt. Harrod 1
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 293

" Why did he ride back, Ma-ry, if was all wrong ? "
it
" Capt. Harrod not know. Capt. Harrod saw Inez's foot-
mark. Capt. Harrod saw it was moccason mark ; all the
same moccason Inez wore at breakfast this morning. Capt.
Harrod see moccason mark ; no, saw moccason mark. Capt.
Harrod thought it Apache boy; thought Apaches caught
Inez, —
carry her away, same like they carry Ma-ry away —
carry me away."
" And he went after them "
?

" All men went, all but — Ransom and the black men and
Richards. All went — rode fast, fast — very fast ; and found
no Inez.''
And the girl laughed. " Inez all happy by the fire. Inez
all asleep in the tent."
" Ma-ry, was Capt. Harrod very good to Inez "
?

And so you think. Master Roland Perry, that, because this

girl is a savage, you are goiag to draw your sister's secrets
out of her, do you? Much do you know of the loyalty of
women women, when they choose to be loyal.
to
" Capt. Harrod very good to Inez, very good to auntie,

very. good to Ma-ry:" this with the first look analogous to

coquetry that Roland had ever seen in his pupil.
" Good to everybody, eh ? And who rode with Capt.
Harrod, or with whom did he ride as you travelled ? Who
"
rode with Inez ? Who rode with you ?

" I rode with him, auntie rode with him ;" and then, cor-

recting herself, " he rode with me he rode with auntie. :

Auntie very pleasant with him. Talk, talk, talk, all morn-
ing. I not understand them. Talk, talk, talk. Inez and
Ma-ry ride together."
This was a combination of pieces which Roland had not
thought of. He followed out the hint.
"
" How old was Capt. Harrod, Ma-ry ?

" Old ? I do not know. He never said ; I never asked."

" No, no ! you never asked but was he as old as Ransom ?
;

"
Was he as old as my father ?

Ma-ry laughed heartily.

294 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" No, no No, no, no "

! !

Was he as old as
" —
Mr. Lonsdale there ?
" Me no know —
I mean I do not know. Mr. Lonsdale
never tell me ; " and she laughed again.
" Which was older, —
Harrod, or Nolan ?
" Oh ! I never see, I never seed — I never saw Capt. Phil.
Capt. Nolan all gone before I saw Inez. I saw Inez at
Nacogdoches."
" And did Inez like Capt. Harrod very much, Ma-ry ? "
" Oh, ho I think so.
! I like him very much. Auntie,
oh ! auntie like him very much. Oh I think Inez like him !

very much. Ask her, Mr. Roland ; ask her." And the girl
called, " Inez, my darling, Inez, come here
" !

But Inez did not hear : perhaps it was not meant that she
should hear.
" No, no !
" said Master Roland interrupting, but so much
of a man stillthat he did not know that this little savage
girl was playing with him. " Do not call her. She can tell
me what she chooses. But, Ma-ry dear, what makes Inez
unhappy ? When she is alone, she cries : I know she does.
I see her eyes are red. When she is with us all, she laughs
and talks more than she wants to. She makes believe,
"
Ma-ry. Ma-ry, what is the trouble, the sorrow of Inez ?

No, Roland Ma-ry is very fond of Inez, and she is very

:

fond of you j but if you want Inez's secrets you must go to

Inez for them. This girl of the woods will not betray them.
"Inez very, very fond of Capt. Phil Nolan. Inez very,
very sorry for poor lady who is dead, and little baby boy.
When Capt. Phil Nolan was here, here in Orleans, Capt.
Phil Nolan told her, told Inez, all story, — all the story of
beautiful girl who is dead. Fanny, — Fanny Lintot. Capt.
Phil Nolan showed Inez picture pretty picture, oh, so — —
pretty ! —
of Fanny Lintot. Told her secret. Inez told no
one. No, Inez not tell auntie, not tell me. Now gone, all
gone. Fanny Lintot dead. Capt. Nolan dead. Only little,
little baby boy. Poor Fanny Lintot Poor Inez very sorry. !
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 295

But, Mr. Roland, you not ask her. No, no, no ! do not ask
her."
"
Not I," said Roland, led away by the girl's eagerness,
and not aware, indeed, at the moment, that he had been
foiled.
Mr. Silas Perry had soon made the same remark which the
eagle-eyed reader of these pages has made, that his son and
his ward were thrown into very close " propinquity," and into
very near communion. He had, or thought he had, reasons,
not for putting an actual stop to it, but, on the other hand,

for not encouraging and he speculated not a little as to

it ;

the best way to separate these young people a little more

than in the easy circumstances of their daily life. He had
consulted his sister once and again in his questionings. She
had proposed a removal to the plantation. But he dreaded
to take this step. The exigencies of his business required
his presence in the city almost every day. He was happy in
his family ; and, after so long a parting, he hated to be parted
long again.
Matters brought themselves to a crisis, however. He
came into Eunice's rooni one evening in serio-comic despair.
" Eunice, you must do something with your Indian girl.

She is on your hands, not on mine. What do you think ? I

saw something light outside the paling just now. I went out
to see what it might be, in the gloaming; and there was
Ma-ry, bobbing at a crawfish hole for crawfish, as quietly as
you are mending that stocking. She might have been little
Dinah, for all anxiety about her position. She never
dreamed, dear child, that it was out of the way."
" What did you say ? " said Eunice, laughing.
" It was not in my heart to scold her. I asked her what
her luck was " —
" And then looked for another crawfish hole, and sat down
and fished by her side ?
" No," said he ; " not quite so bad as that. I told her it
was late, that she must not stay out late ; and she gathered
296 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

up her prizes prettily, and brought them in. She never

resists you a moment ; that is the reason why she twirls us
all round her fingers. I don't know what to do. It would
break Inez's heart to send her away, not to say mine. She
gave Chloe the crawfish for breakfast."
" There is Squam Bay ? " said Eunice interrogatively.
" I had thoughts of Squam Bay. Heavens, how she would
upset the proprieties there I wonder what Parson Forbes
!

would make of her. I would almost send her to Squam Bay

for the fun of seeing the explosion.
" You see," after a pause, " Squam Bay is better than the
nuns here, and it is worse. The nuns will teach her to
embroider, and to talk French, and to keep secrets, and to
hide things. The people there will teach her to tell the truth,
where she needs no teaching ; to work, where she needs no
teaching ; to wash and to iron ; to make succotash and to ;

reconcile the five points of Calvinism with one another, and

with infinite love. But this is to be considered: with the
nuns she is close to us, and Squam Bay is very far off, par-
if there should be war."
ticularly
"
Always war ? " asked Eunice anxiously.
What troubled Eunice was that this conversation, having
come to this point, never went any farther. Forty times had
her brother come about as far as this ; but forty times he
had put off till next week any determination, and next week
never came. The girl was too dear to him ; her pretty ways
were becoming too necessary for him ; Inez was too fond of
her ; and home-life, just thus and so, was too charming. At
any given moment he hated to break the spell, and to destroy
all.

This was, however, the last of these conferences. The

next morning, immediately after family prayers, Silas Perry
beckoned his sister into his own den.
" It is all settled," he said half gayly, half dolefully.
"What is settled?"
" Ma-ry yonder, the savage, is to go to the Ursulines."
 OR,'" SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 297

" Who settled that ? " asked Eunice, supposing this was
only the forty-first phase of the talk of which last night
showed the fortieth. '

" Who settled it ? Why, Ma-ry settled it. Who settles

every thing in this house What is the
1 old story ? It is
repeated here. Ma-ry manages Ransom Ma-ry manages
;

Inez ; Ma-ry manages you. And you and Inez and Ransom
manage me."
" We and Roland," said Eunice.
"As you will. If Ma-ry does not manage him too, I am
much mistaken. Any way, the dear child has given her
directions this time, with as quiet determination as if she
had been and with as distinct eye down the future
yourself,
as if she had been Parson Forbes. She wants to go to the
Ursulines, and to the Ursulines she is to go."
The Ursulines' convent was at this moment the only
school for girls, of any account, in Orleans, not to say in
Louisiana.
" What did she say ?
" She said that all the things she knew were things of the
woods and the and the rivers. She said Inez was
prairies
kind, too kind ; that you were kind, too kind ; that every-
body was kind. But she said that she was never to go back
to the woods, never to live in them. She must learn to do
what women did here. If she staid in this house, I should
spoil her. She did not put it in these words, but that was
what she meant. If she went to the nuns, she should study
all the time, and should never play. Here, she said, it was
hard, very hard, not to play."
" What will Inez say ? "
" I dare not guess. Ma-ry has gone to tell her."
" And what will Roland say " .?

" I do not know, nor do I know who will tell him."

298 PHILIP NOLAN S FRIENDS ;

CHAPTER XXX.
MOTHER AND CHILD.

" Smile not, my child,

But sleep deeply and sweetly, and so beguiled
Of the pang that awaits us, whatever that be
So dreadful, since thou must divide it with me."
Shelley.

So it was settled, and settled by herself, that poor Ma-iy

should go into a convent-school. The freest creature on
earth was to be shut up in the most complicated system of
surveillance.
Ransom was well-nigh beside himself when he found
that this step had been determined on, in face of his known
views, and, indeed, without even the pretence of consulta-
tion with him. For the next day gloom was in all his
movements. He would not bring Mr. Perry the claret that
he liked, and pretended there was none left. He carried
off the only pair of pumps which Roland could wear to
the governor's ball, and pretended they needed mending.
Inez sent him for, her hat; and he would not find it, and
pretended he could not. For a day the family was made to
understand that Ransom was deeply displeased.
He made a moment for a conference with Ma-ry, as he
strapped her trunk. The only consolation he had had was
the selection of this trunk, at a little shop where they brought
such things from France.
" Ma-ry," said he, " they'll want you to go on your knees
before them painted eye-dolls. Don't ye do it. They can't
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 299

make ye noway, and ye it. Say ye prayers as

mustn't do
Miss Eunice taught and don't say 'em to eye-dolls.
ye,
They'll tell ye to lie and steal. Don't ye do it. Let um lie
as much as they want to ; but don't ye believe the fust word
they- tell ye. They won't give ye nothin' to eat but frogs,
and not enough of them. Don't ye mind. I'll send round
myself a basket twice a week. They won't let me come
myself, 'cause they won't have no men near um but them
black-coated priests, all beggars, all on um, and them others
with brown nightgowns. Let them come ; but I shall make
old Chloe go round, or Salome, that's the other one, twice a
week with a basket, and sunthin' good in it, and anough for
three days. An' you keep the basket, Ma-ry, and sponge it
out, and give it back to her next time she comes. Don't let
them nuns get the baskets, 'cause they ain't any more like
um. They's white-oak baskets, made in a place up behind
Atkinson ; they ain't but one man knows how to make um,
an' I make old Turner bring um down here to me. Don't
ye let the nuns get the baskets."
Ma-ry promised compliance with all his directions ; and the
certainty of outwitting the " eye-dollaters " on the matter of
her diet threw a little gleam of comfort over the old man's
sadness.
She went to the Ursulines. The Ursulines received her
with the greatest tenderness, and thought they never had a
more obedient pupil.
And this was the chief event in the family history of that
winter. With the spring other changes came, necessitated
by a removal to the plantation. Although this was by no
means Silas Perry's chief interest, he had great pride in it ;
and he did not choose to have it in the least behind the plan-
tations of his Creole neighbors. Roland had brought from
the polytechnic school some pet theories of science which he
was eager to apply in the sugar-mills and he did not find it
;

difficult to persuade Lonsdale to join him, even for weeks at

a time, when h§ went up the coast. A longer expedition,
300 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

however, called them away, both from the counting-house and

from the plantation.
Gen. Bowles had not forgotten his promise. Inez and
Roland both twitted Aunt Eunice with her conquest over this
handsome adventurer. It was in vain that Eunice said' that
he was well known to have one wife, and was even said to
have many. All the more they insisted that no one knew
but all these savage ladies might have been scalped in some
internecine or Kilkennyish brawl, and that the general might
be seeking a more pacific helpmeet. The truth about Gen.
Bowles was, that he was one of the wildest adventurers of any
time. Born in Maryland, he had enlisted in King George's
army just after Germantown and Brandywine. He had been
a prosperous chief of the Creeks. He had conferred, equal
with equal, with the generals who had commanded him in the
English army only a few years before. He had been an artist
and an actor, in his checkered life ; he had been in Spanish
prisons, and had been presented at the English court.
One day, when a very distinguished Indian embassy had
brought in a letter from him to Eunice, Roland undertook to
explain all this to Mr. Lonsdale.
" And now, Mr. Lonsdale," said the impudent youngster
Roland, who had chosen to give this account to him, as coolly
as, on another occasion, he had cross-questioned him about
the same man, " and now, Mr. Lonsdale, weary of diplomacy,
he proposes to leave the throne of Creekdom. He lays his
crown at Miss Perry's feet ; and she has only to say one little
word, and he will become a sugar-planter of distinction on
the Cotd des Acadiens, with Miss Perry as his helpmeet, to
cure the diseases of his people, and with Mr. Roland Perry,
ancien ilive de V Ecole Polytechnique, to direct the crystalliza-
tion of his sugar."
The it must be confessed, that the general's
truth was, as
lettershad usually been made out of very slender capital.
He would write to say that he was afraid his last letter had
miscarried, or that he should like to know if Miss Ma-ry
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 301

remembered a house with a chimney at each end whether ;

she had ever seen a saw-mill, or the like. For a man who
had nothing to say, Gen. Bowles certainly wrote to Miss
Perry a great many letters that winter. But on this occasion
Eunice was so much absorbed, as she read, that she did not
give the least attention to Roland's raillery.
" Hear this hear this
! Roland, go call your father.
!

This really means something,"

Mr. Perry came, on the summons.
Eunice began :
—
General Bowles to Miss Perry.
Talladega, Creek Nation, April 19, 1802.
My dear Miss Perry, I can — send you some tidings which
at last
mean something. If you knew the regret which I have felt in sending
you so little news before, you would understand my pleasure now that I
really believe I may be of some use to your chsLxming proijg^^e.

"Well begun," said the irreverent Roland. "We shall

come to the sugar-plantation on the next page."
" Hold your tongue, sir," said bis father ; and Eunice read
on :
—
I have just returned from a " talk," so called, with some of the older
chiefs of the Choctawand Cherokee nations. So soon as I renewed the
old confidence which these men always felt in me, I made my first in-
quiries as to raids from the west into the territories north of us, in the .

year 1785, or thereabouts. The Cherokee warriors knew nothing of our

matter.
But the Choctaw chiefs, fortunately, were better informed. As to the
time there can be no question. It was the year 1784, well known to all

these people from some eclipse or other which specially excited them.
A party of Choctaw chiefs, embodying all that there are left of the
once famous Natchez, who, as your brother tells us, have just now ap-
peared in literature, —
a party of Choctaw chiefs crossed the Mississippi,
and even the Red River, in quest of some lost horses. This means, I am
sorry to say, that they went to take other horses to replace the lost ones.
They met a large roving body of Apaches. They saw them, and they
were whipped by them. They recrossed the Mississippi much faster than
they went over.
302 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

These savages of the West had never, to my knowledge, crossed the

Father of Waters. But on this occasion, elated by their success, they did
so and then, fortunately for the Choctaw people, they forgot them. They
;

were far north ; and hearing of a little settlement from Carolina, low down
on the Cumberland River, they pounced on it, and killed every fighting
man. They burned every house, and stole every horse. Then the whites
above them came down on them so fast that they retired as best they
might.
It is they, I am assured, who are the only Apaches who have crossed
the Mississippi in this generation. It is they, as I believe, who seized
your little friend and her mother.
If you have any correspondents in the new State of Tennessee, they
ought to be able to inform you further regarding the outpost thus de-
stroyed. I cannot learn that it had any name ; but it was very low on the
Cumberland, and the time was certainly November, 1784.

" There is more there ! is more !

" screamed Roland, seeing
that his aunt stopped.
" There is nothing more about Ma-ry," said Eunice, who
felt that she blushed, and was provoked beyond words that
she did so.
" Moremore " cried the bold boy, putting out his hand
! !

for the letter but his aunt folded it, and put it in her pocket.
;

And a warning word from his father, " Roland, behave

yourself," told the young gentleman that for once he was
going too far.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 303

CHAPTER XXXI.

ON THE PLANTATION,

" Those sacred mysteries, for the vulgar ear

Unmeet; and known, most impious to declare,
Oh! let due reverence for the gods restrain
Discourses rash, and check inqmries vain."
Homeric Hymns.

Little enough chance of finding any thing by raking over

the wretched ashes of that village burned eighteen years
before. Still every one would be glad to know that the last
was known ; one aching heart could be spared one
and, if

throb of agony, every one would be glad to spare it.

The wonder and the satisfaction excited by Gen. Bowles's
letter held the little party in eager talk for five minutes ; and
then Mr. Lonsdale, who happened
to be of the plantation
party that day, up the gap in the practical and definite
filled

way by which, more than once, that man of mystery had

distinguished himself.
"I do not know what friends Mr. Perry may have, or what
you may have, in Tennessee State," said he almost eagerly
" but I hope, I trust. Miss Perry, that you will put your com-
mission of inquiry into my hands. I have loitered here in
your doke far niente of Louisiana much longer than I meant,
as you know. What with this and that invitation, I have
staid and staid in Capua, as if, indeed, here were the object
of my life. But my measures were all taken last week. I
asked Mr. Hutchings to select a padrone and boatmen for
me ; and he has hired a boat which, I am told, is just wha;t
304 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

Pardon me for saying a a boat I am told

:

it should be. '

'

I must call it a voiture. Your arrangements are fairly Vene-

tian, Miss Perry. Men seem to know but one carriage."
" Oh, call it a galliot " she said, " and we shall know
!

what you mean."

" If you would only be Cleopatra," said Mr. Lonsdale,
with high gallantry, and he bowed.
" I shall be late in delivering my commissions at Fort
Massac ; but I shall be there before any one else leaving
Orleans this spring. Pray let me make your inquiries regard-
ing this dear child's family."
Loyally said, and loyally planned, Mr. Lonsdale. If this

man is a diplomatist, or whatever he be, he has twice come

to the relief of Eunice by a most signal service, offered in
the most simple and manly way. Even the suspicious Inez
looked her gratitude, through eyes that were filled with tears.
The plan was too good not to be acceded to. Roland
begged to go as a volunteer on the expedition ; and Mr. Perry
insisted on it, that he must see to the stores.
" Pardon me, Mr. Lonsdale, but your countryman Mr.
Hutchings does not know as we do what the Mississippi
demands. I shall provision your galliot, or rather Ransom
will ; for, if I undertook to do it without his aid, he would
countermand all my directions. I may as well from the first
confess to him that I am at his mercy."
" Take care, Mr. Perry, for I am almost as much a favorite
with him as you are. That is, his pity for my ignorance, not
to say his contempt for it, takes with me the place of his
affection for your house. If you tell him to store the galliot
for both of us, he will strip the plantation. Aint nothin'
'

fit to eat, all the way up river,' he will say. All on 'em eats
'

alligators and persimmons. Don' know what good codfish

and salt pork is, none on um.' "
Everybody laughed.
" Capital, capital, Mr. Lonsdale You have studied the
!

language of the country at its fountain."

 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 305

" We will not let Ransom starve us, Mr. Lonsdale ; but
certainly we will not let him starve you."
The reader of to-day, who embarks at New Orleans for the
mouth of the Ohio in a steamboat which is " a palace above
and a warehouse below," has to take thought, in order to
make real to himself a voyage, when Lonsdale and Roland
could not expect, even with extra good luck, to reach their
destination in two months' time. Slow as travelling was
from Philadelphia or Baltimore across the mountains, many
a traveller would have taken a voyage from New Orleans to
an Atlantic seaport, that he might descend the Ohio, rather
than ascend the Mississippi.
In this case, every preparation was made for comfort and
for speed, on a plan not very unlike that on which Inez
and her aunt started on their journey for Texas.
By a special dispensation, in which perhaps, the vicar-
general and bishop assisted, not to say the pope himself,
Ma-ry was liberated from the convent school to be present at
the last farewells. The evening was spent at the plantation
with affected cheerfulness, as is men's custom on the evenings
of departure j and with early morning the two travellers were
on their way. Mr. Perry took his own boat as they went up
the river, and went down to the city to his counting-house,
taking Ma-ry to a new sojourn with the Ursulines, in which
her docility must show the pope that she had not abused his
gracious permission for a " retreat."
Eunice made her preparations for a quiet week with Inez.
Dear little Inez she was more lovely than ever, now that
!

there was always a shade of care about her. How true it is

that human life never can be tempered into the true violet
steel without passing through the fire And Inez had passed
1

through. It was the one which

bitter experience of life in

nobody could help Eunice knew that. She would have

her.
died for this child to save her sorrow ; and yet without sor-
row, nay, without bitter anguish, this lively, happy girl could
never be made into a true woman. That Eunice knew also.
3o6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

And, while Inez suffered, all Eunice could do was to sit by, or
stand by and look on, —
to watch and to pray as she did that
night by the camp-fire.
" Now we are rid of them all, auntie, we can go to work
and get things into order. There is no end of things to be
done, and you are to show me how to do them all. What in
the world will come to the plantation when you go off to be
Duchless of Clarence, or maybe queen of England, if I do not
"
learn something this -summer ?
" Could you not push the Duke of Clarence into a butt of

malmsey, and be well rid of him ? Then you would be free

from your terrors. For me, I have not yet seen him, and I
don't know how I shall like him. Go, get your apron, and
come with me.''
And so the two girls, as Mr. Perry still called them fondly,
had what women term a " lovely time " that day. No such
true joy to the well-trained housekeeping chief, as to get rid
of the men occasionally an hour or two early. Eunice and
Inez resolved that they would have no regular dinner, just a
cup of tea and a bit of cold meat ; and that the day [Link]
devoted to the inner mysteries of that mysterious Eleusinian
profession, which is the profession of the priestess of Ceres,
or the domestic hearth.
And a field-day they had of it. The infirmary was inspected,
and the nursery, the clothing-rooms, the kitchen, and the
storehouses. Inez filled her little head full, and her little

note-book They were both in high conclave over some

fuller.

pieces of coarse home-woven cotonnades, ^- a famous manu-

facture of their Acadian neighbors, when a scream was —
heard from the shore, and Mr. Perry was seen approaching.
The ladies welcomed him with eager wonder. He was tired
and evidently annoyed, but relieved them in a minute from
personal anxiety about Ma-ry or any near friend.
" Still my news is as bad as it can be. I have come back

to send it up to Roland there and Mr. Lonsdale. This

Morales, this idiot of an intendant, means to cut off from the
people above the right of sending their goods to Orleans."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 307

" Cut off the right of depot " cried both the girls in a word.
!

They both knew that the prosperity of Orleans and the pros-
perity of the West alike depended on it ; nay, they knew that
peace or war depended upon it. They heard with the amaze-
ment with which they would have heard that the intendant
had fired the cathedral.
" Yes, the fool has cut off the permission for deposit. Of
course supposed it was a blunder. I went round to my
I

and saw the idiot myself. He is as mad as a

lord's office,
March hare. I reminded him of the treaty. The right is
sure for three years more against all the intendants in the
world. The crazy coot rolled his eyes, and said that in
the high politics treaties even sometimes must give way.
High fiddlestick ! I wish his Prince of Peace was higher
than he has been yet, and with notiiing to stand upon " !

" Did you speak of the —

the secret " said Eunice, mean- .?

ing that Louisiana was really Napoleon's province, or the

French Republic's, moment, and no province of Spain.
at this
" I just hinted at So absurd, that there should be this
it.

pretence of secrecy, when the secret has been whispered in

'
'

every paper in the land But, indeed, the men who are most
!

angry below say that this is Bonaparte's plan, that he wants

to try the temper of the Kentuckians. He is no such fool.
It is another piece of Salcedo's madness, or of the madness
which ruled Salcedo's. Perhaps they want at Madrid to steal
all the value from their gift. Clearly enough there is a quarrel
between old Salcedo the governor, and this ass of a Morales.
The Intendant Morales will do it, or says he will do it all the
same ; and the governor does not interfere. But it is all one
business it is that madness that sent Muzquiz after our poor
:

friend it is that madness which appointed Salcedo, the old

;

"
fool, here. Madrid, indeed !

" What will the river people say .? " asked Inez.
" I do not know what they'll say," said her exasperated
who had by this time talked himself back into the
fa'ther,

same rage with which he had left the intendant's apartments ;

3o8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" but I know what they will do. They will take their rifles
on their shoulders, and their powder-horns. They will put a
few barrels of pork and hard-tack on John Adams's boats,
which are waiting handy for them up there. They will take
the first rise on the river after they hear this news ; and they
will come down and smoke this whole tribe of drones out of
this hive, and th^ intendant and the whole crew will be in
Cuba in no time. Inez, mark what I say. This river and
this town go together. The power that holds this town for
an hour or a day against the wish of the people above holds
it to its ruin. Remember that, if you live a hundred
years."
" The whole army of Cuba could be brought here in a very
few weeks," said Eunice thoughtfully.
" Never you fear the army of Cuba. The general who ever
brings an army from the Gulf against New Orleans, when
the sharp-shooters of this valley want to hold New Orleans,
comes here to his ruin. Inez, when New Orleans and the
Western country shall learn to hold together. New Orleans
willbe one of the first cities of the world and you, girl,
;

areyoung enough to live to see it so."

All this he said, as Eunice fairly insisted on his drinking a
cup of coffee and eating something after his voyage. All
the time,- however, the preparations were going forward, to
order which he had himself come up the river. The lightest

and swiftest boat in the little navy of the plantation was

hastily got ready to be sent witli the bad news to Roland and
Lonsdale. Nobody knew whether the intendant had for-
warded it. Nobody knew whether he meant to. But, since
Oliver Pollock and Silas Perry forwarded gunpowder to
Washington six and twenty years before, they knew the way
to send news up the river when they chose, and he did not
choose that any intendant of them all should be ahead of
him.
The boat was ready before half an hour was "over. The
occasion was so pressing that Ransom himself was put in
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 309

charge of the expedition and the despatches. The other

party had a day the start of them. But Ransom took a
double crew that he might row allnight, and hoped to over-
haul them at their camp of the second evening.
310 PHILIP NOLA ISPS FRIENDS ;

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE DESOLATE HOME.

"StUl, as they travel, far and wide,

Catch they and keep they a trace here, a trace there,
That puts you in mind of a place here, a place there."
Browning.

Ransom returned a good deal earlier than anybody ex-

pected. He came in the middle of the night with as cross a
crew of boatmen as ever rowed any Jason or Odysseus. He
had compelled them to such labors as they did not in the
least believe in.
He reported to Eunice before breakfast
" So you caught them, Ransom ? "
" Yes'm. Come up with um little this side Pointe Couple.
They was in camp. Good camp too. All right and comfort-
able. Mr. Roland understands things, mum."
" And you didn't see the Spaniards ? "
"Yes'm — see um. Didn't see me though darned fools. —
See them fust night out. They was all asleep in the Green
Reach. See they fires, lazy dogs! didn't go nigh um, 'n
they didn't know nothin' about us; passed right by um,
t'other side of the river. That's all they's fit for. Calls um
coast-guards. Much as ever they can do is to keep they own
hats on."
" And what message did the gentlemen send ? "
" Said they was all well, and had had very good luck ; 'n

they wrote two letters — three letters here, for you and Miss
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 311

Inez, 'n Mr. Perry. I'd better take his'n down to him
myself. I'm goin' down to-day."
" And did you come back in one day, Ransom ?
" Yes'm. Come down on the current. Come in no time,
ef these lazy niggers knew how to row. Don't know nothin'.
Ought to 'a'been here at three o'clock. Didn't git here till
midnight. Told um I'd get out 'n walk, but ye can't shame
um nor nothin'. They can't row. They don't know nothin'."
This was Ransom's modest account of a feat unsurpassed
on the river for ten years —
indeed, till the achievements of
steam left such feats for the future unrecorded.
" And you saw no one coming down t "
" Yes'm. See them Spanish beggars agin, and this time
they stopped me. Couldn't 'a' stopped me ef I didn't choose
but there's no use quarrelling. They was gittin' ready for
they siesta, 's they calls it, lazy dogs ! right this side o' Mr.
Le Bourgeois's place, — pootiest place on the river. We was
on t'other side, and they seed us, and fired a shot in the air ;

and I told the niggers to stop rowin'. Made the Spanishers

— them's um come out and
the coast-guard, they calls —
meet us. They asked where we'd been. I told um we'd
been cat-fishing. They asked where the fish was. I said we
hadn't had no luck. They asked if any boats had passed
me, and I said they hadn't, 'cause they hadn't. They asked
me to take a note down to the intendant, 'n I said I would
'n I got it here. Guess I shall give it to him about Thanks-
givin' time."
This, with a grim smile of contempt for the snares and
wiles of the Spanishers.
" O Ransom you had better take
! it to the intendant's
to-day."
" I'll see, mum. Sartin it's for no good, 'cause they's no
good in um. They's all thieves 'n liars. Mebbe it's for
harm, 'n ef it is, they'd better not have it."

" Well, show it to Mr. Perry, Ransom, any way."

To which the old man made no reply, but withdrew ; and
312 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

then the ladies undertook the business of letter-reading and

breakfasting together. The letters would not tell many
facts. They might show to the skilful reader something of
what was in the heart of each writer, as he left for such long
and solitary journey. But this story hurries to its end, and
these intimations of feeling must be left to the reader's con-
jectures.
Whatever they said, the ladies had to satisfy themselves
with these letters for months. The news which Lonsdale
and Roland carried was enough to turn back most of the
downward-bound boats which would else have taken their
letters. Such boats as did attempt the gauntlet were seized
or threatened at the different Spanish posts ; were searched,
perhaps, by guarda castas, so called; and nothing so sus-
picious as letters, even were these the most tender-looking of
billets to the sweetest of ladies, was permitted to slip
through.
It is true that some cause, either the bitter protests of the
American factors, or some doubts engendered by despatches
from home, postponed until October the final proclamation
of the famous interdict by which New Orleans was self-
starved and self-besieged. Its effect on the upper country
was none the less for the delay.
The ladies settled back into that simple and not unprofit-
able life so well known to our grandmothers, so impossible
to describe to their descendants, or even for these descend-
ants to conceive, —
a life unpersecuted by telegrams, by
letters, by express-parcels ; a life which knew nothing of
that " stand and deliver," which bids us reply by return of
post ; or, while the telegraph-messenger waits in the hall, to

give a decision on which may rest the happiness of a life.

For Eunice and Inez, the great events were, perhaps, to see
that a crew of Caddoes drifting down the river with their
baskets were properly welcomed perhaps to spend the day
;

with Mme. Porcher, at her plantation just below ; perhaps to

prepare for the return visit when the time came ; perhaps
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 313

to go out of a Saturday evening to see the Acadians dance

themselves almost dead to the violin-music of Michael, the
old white-haired fiddler ; perhaps for Inez to keep her little
school daily, in which she taught the little black folk the
mysteries of letters ; and all the time, certainly, for both of
them, the purely domestic cares of that independent princi-
palitywhich was called a plantation.
Mr. Perry came up to the plantation about once a week,
but only for a day or two at a time. His stay would be
shorter than Eunice had ever known it, and there was anxiety
in his manner which it had never known before. Every
thing combined to make that an anxious year for Orleans.
Though this ridiculous intendant had pretended not to know
the secret of its transfer to France, many men did know that
secret early in the spring,and before summer all men knew
it. That Gen. Victor with an army of twenty-five thousand
Frenchmen was on his way to take possession, was a rumor
which came with almost every vessel from Philadelphia or
from England. Gen. Victor and his army did not appear.
What did appear was another army, a starving army of poor
French men and women from San Domingo, driven out by a
new wave of the insurrection there. It was not the first of
such arrivals. They always made care and anxiety for the
little colony. Not only were the poor people to be provided
for, but the cause of their coming had to be talked over in

every family in Louisiana. A successful rising of slaves in

San Domingo had to be discussed in the hearing and pres-
ence of slaves now well enough satisfied in Louisiana. This
year, this anxiety had reached its height. The Spanish
intendant, who had precipitated war on his own head from
up the river, so soon as the Western sharp-shooters could
arrive, frightened himself and his people to death with
terrors about insurrection within. The French began to
whisper that their own countrymen were coming. The hand-
ful of Americans chafed under the unrighteous restriction on
the trade for which they lived there.
314 PHILIP JVOLAN'S FRIENDS;

"By the King.

A proclamation
In the name of the King
Know all men
That His Most Christian Majesty commands that the sale of all clocks
bearing upon them the figure of a woman, whether sitting or standing,
wearing the cap of Liberty, or bearing a banner in her hand, is hence-
forth, forever, absolutely prohibited in the colony of Louisiana.
Let all faithful subjects of his Majesty govern themselves accordingly.
Long live the King."

To see such a proclamation printed in the miserable

" Gazette," or posted at the corner of the street, was some-
thing to laugh at ; and at the old jealousies of other days,
between the French and the Spanish circle, Mr. Perry
circle
could afford to laugh again. But here, in matters much
more important, was jealousy amounting to hatred, for
causes many of which were real; and every man's hand,
indeed, seemed to be against his brother.
It was therefore, at best, but a sad summer and autumn
;

and Miss Perry succeeded in persuading her brother to

remove the little family to the city earlier than was their
custom, that he might at least have in town what she called
home comforts, and that, if any thing did happen, they
might at least be all together.
" We cannot be of much use," she said ; " but at least we
shall be of no harm. Besides, if we go, we shall take Ran-
som I know he will be a convenience to you, and you may
:

need him of a sudden."

Whether Ransom would be of any real service, Mr. Perry
doubted. But it was very true that he was glad to have his
cheerful little family together ; and in the comfort of a quiet
evening to forget the intrigues, the plots, the alarms, and the
absurd speculations, which were discussed every day in his
counting-room, now that there was little other business done
there. In the old palmy days of Gov. Miro, even under the
later dynasties of Casa Calvo and Gayoso, if any such com-
plications threatened as now impended, Mr. Perry would have
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 315

been among the favored counsellors of the viceroy ; for vice-

roys these governors were. He would not have hesitated
himself to call, and to offer advice which he knew would be
well received. But times were changed, indeed. Instead of
one king, there were three. Here was Morales, the intend-
ant, pretending that he did not care whether Gov. Salcedo
approved or did not approve of his doings. Here was Sal-
cedo himself: was he old enough to be foolish and in his
dotage, as some people thought ? or, was he pretending to be
a fool, and really pulling all the strings behind the curtain ?
And here was young Salcedo, his son, puffing about, and
pretending to manage everybody and every thing.
One night, at a public ball, this young Salcedo set every-
body by the ears. The men drew swords, and the women
fainted. Just as the dance was to begin, and the band began
playing a French contra-dance, the young braggart cried out,
" English dances, English dances " He was a governor's
!

son should he not rule the ballroom ? Any way, the band-
:

master feared and obeyed, and began on -English contra-

dances. The young French gallants would not stand this,
and cried out, " French, French, French " There were not !

Spaniards enough to out-cry them ; but Salcedo, and those

there were, drew their swords. The Frenchmen drew theirs.
The women screamed. The American and English gentle-
men let the others do the fighting, while they carried the
fainting women out. The captain of the guard marched in
with a file of soldiers, presented bayonets, and proceeded to
clear the hall. It was only this absurd extreme which
brought people to terms. The women were revived, and the
dancing went on. What with young Salcedo's folly, old Sal-
cedo's jealousy, and Morales's wrong-headedness, some such
bad-blooded quarrel filled people's ears every day.
Under such circumstances, the simple life of the city had
all gone. Mr. Perry's counsels, once always respected at
headquarters, were worthless now.
This intendant knew his estimate among the Americans,
3l6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

and with their nation, only too well ; but he pretended to

make that a reason for distrusting him. The absurd dread
of the Americans, which first showed itself in the treachery
to poor Philip Nolan, showed itself now in unwillingness to
hear what even the most cautious Americans had to say.
In the midst of such anxieties, as they expected Roland
from hour to hour, there came in his place, by the way of
Natchez, only this not very satisfactory letter :
—
Roland Perry to Eunice Perry.
Fort Massac, Aug. 31, 1802.

My — We have been up the Cumberland River and I

dear Aunt, ;

am convinced that have seen the ruins of dear Ma-ry's home. There
I
isnot nor stem standing of the
sticlc — save some wretched village,
charred beams of the saw-mill, all covered with burrs, and briars, and
bushes. But, that this is the place, you may be sure. We have been up
to the next settlement, which was planted only three years later ; and
they know the whole sad story, just as Gen. Bowles has told you. The
bloody brutes came in on the sleeping village, just in the dead of night
The people had hardly a chance to iire a shot, none to rally in their
defence. They slaughtered all the men, and, as these people said, they
slaughtered all the women ; but it seems dear Ma-ry and her miother were
saved.
Which baby she is, from which mother of these eight or ten families,
of course I cannot tell, nor can these people. But they say that, at
Natchez, there is an old lady who can. An old Mrs. Willson, all these —
people were Scotch-Irish from Carolina, an old Mrs. Willson came on —
to join her daughter, and arrived the spring after the massacre. Poor
old soul, she had no money to go back. She has loitered and loitered
here, till only two years ago. Then she said there would be more chance
of her hearing news of her child if she went farther south and west ; and

so when somebody moved to Natchez he took with him this Mother Ann
and, if she is alive, she is there still.

She is possibly our Ma-ry's grandmother. If anybody knows any

thing of the dear child's birth, it is she.
And this is all I can tell. I am sorry it is so little ; so is poor Lons-
dale, — the most loyal companion, as he is the most accom-
heartiest,
plished gentleman, it was ever a young fellow's luck to travel with. You
will think this is very little ; but it has cost us weeks of false starts and
lost clews to get at what I send you.
You will not wonder that you do not see me. You will believe me
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 317

that I am well employed. Make much love for me to dear Ma-ry and to
my darling Een.
Always your own boy,
Roland Perry.

This letter had been a strangely long time coming. Had

itperhaps been held by the Spanish authorities somewhere ?
Eunice had another letter, a letter in Lonsdale's handwriting j
but she read Roland's first, and then, grieved and surprised

that her boy was not coming, she gave it to his father.
Mr. Perry read with equal surprise and with equal grief.
" What does it mean ? " said she.
" It means," said he, after a pause, —" it means that he
thought the chances were that the coast-guard would get that
letter, and so it must tell very little." Then, after another
pause, " Eunice, I am afraid it means that the boy has mixed
himself up with recruiting the Kentuckians to come down
here on the next rise of the river. Why they did not come
on the last rise, is a wonder to me ; but I suppose they were
waiting for these fools to strike the last blow. They have
struck it now.. As I told you. Morales has published his
'
interdict.' The old
fool Salcedo pretends to shake his
head ; but it is published all the same, and, now they have
done it, they shake at every wind. They believe, at the Gov-
ernment House, that twenty thousand armed men, mounted
on horses or alligators or both, are now on their way. The
intendant shakes in his shoes, as he walks from mass to his
office. Roland has been bred a soldier. He is an eager
American. He certainly has not staid for nothing, when his
heart and every thing else calls him here. What does your
Mr. Lonsdale say ? "
Mr. Lonsdale said very little that could be read aloud, as
it proved. In briefer language than Roland's he told sub-
stantially the same story. Mother Ann, at Natchez, if —
Mother Ann still lived, —
was the person to be consulted
regarding Ma-ry's lineage.
There seemed to be more in Mr. Lonsdale's letter than
3i8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

was read aloud to Mr. Perry, or even to Inez. But poor

Inez was growing used to secrets and to mysteries. Poor
girl ! she knew
that of one thing she never spoke to Aunt
Eunice. Who
was she, to make Aunt Eunice tell every thing
to her ? It seemed to her that the world was growing myste-
rious. Her lover left her, if he were her lover, and never
said a word to tell her he loved her; and no man knew
where his body lay. Her dear Ma-ry, her other self, was
caged up on the other side of those hateful bars. Her own
darling brother, lost so long, and only just back again, he —
had disappeared too. Nothing but these letters, months old,
to tell what had become of him. And now, when Aunt
Eunice had a letter from where he was, that letter was not
read to Inez, as once every letter was it was simply put
:

away after one miserable scrap had been read aloud, and
people began discussing the situation as if this letter had
never come.
But the letters were to work Inez more woe than this;
for Eunice determined to follow up, as soon as might be, the
clew they gave.
So was it, that some weeks after, when a change was to be
made in the Spanish garrison at Concordia, opposite Natchez,
she availed herself of the escort of a friendly officer going
up the river, who was taking his wife with him, and deter-
mined for herself to make an inquiry at that village for
" Mother Ann." She had never ceased to feel that on her,
first of all, rested the responsibility in determining Ma-ry's
future, and in unravelling the history of her past.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 319

CHAPTER XXXIII.

ALONE.

" Much was in little writ, and all conveyed

With cautious care, for fear to be betrayed
By some false confidant, or favorite maid."
Drtden.

" Ah, well " wrote Inez, in the queer little journal which
!

she tried to keep in those days, " so I am to learn what life

is. They take their, turns ; but one after another of these I
love most leaves me, till I am now almost alone. I will try-

not to be ungrateful, but I am very lonely."

And here the poor girl stopped ; and such was the event-
fulness of her life for weeks after, that she does not come to
the diary again. As it is apt to happen in our somewhat
limited human life, the people who have most to do have
little chance, or little spirit, to sitdown night by night, to
tellon paper how they did it.
Her
aunt's absence must of necessity be three or four
weeks in length. They parted with tears, you may be sure.
It was the first time they had been parted, for so long a
separation, since Inez could remember. She was now indeed
put to the test to show how well she could carry' on the
duties of the head of the household.
And Chloe and Antoine, and even old Ransom, would
come to her for orders, in the most respectful way, from day
to day. " As if I did not know," Inez said to Ma-ry, in one
of their convent interviews, " that they were all going to do
320 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

just what they thought best, and as if they did not know that
I knew it"
Once a fortnight, under the rules for girls' schools, which
St. Ursula had arranged before the barbarians had cut off
her head at Cologne, Inez was permitted to visit Ma-ry for
an hour in the convent parlor. Once a month, under some
such dispensation from the holy father at Rome as has been
spoken of,Ma-ry was able to return the visit for the better
part of a day. For the rest, their intercourse went on in
correspondence, with the restriction, not pleasing to two such
young ladies, that the letters on both sides were to be exam-
ined before they reached their destination by Sister Barbara.
Inez took such comfort as she could, by going to mass on
Sunday at the chapel of St. Ursula,* where she could see
Ma-ry, and Ma-ry could see her. But, excepting these com-
forts, the two girls had to live on in hope that Whit-Sunday

would come at last, and then Ma-ry was to be liberated from

the study and the imprisonment to which she had so bravely
submitted.
Poor Inez's anxieties were not to be the questions of good
or bad coffee, or tender steaks or tough. Every thing seemed
to conspire against the peace of that little community ; and
in that little community the bolts seemed to fall hottest and
fastest on the household of Silas Perry.
The cornmunity itself was in the most feverish condi-
tion. M. Laussat had arrived, with a commission from the
First Consul to govern the colony, as soon as it was trans-
ferred by Spain ; for all mystery about the transfer from
Spain to France was now over. Besides old Salcedo, " mori-
bund," and young Salcedo, impudent and interfering, and the
Intendant Morales, idiotic and pig-headed, here was this pre-
tentious popinjay, Laussat.
You would have said that the French people would have
been pleased: now they could dance French contra-dances
when they chose.
Not so much pleased. The Spanish rule had been very
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 321

mild. Hardly a tax, hardly any interference, before this fool

came in. Oh for the old .days of Miro, and then we would
not ask for any French ruler
And M. Laussat, or Citizen Laussat, without a soldier to
walk behind him or before him, with nothing but a uniform
and a few clerks, is swelling and puffing, and talking of what
our army is going to do.
But where is " our army " ?
It does not come.
Gov. Salcedo invites him to dinner, and is civil. Young
Salcedo makes faces behind his back, and is rude. Mean-
while the bishop is cross with the Free-Masons, and says the
Jacobins are coming ; and all the timid people are watching
the negroes, and say Christophe or Dessalines is coming.
Men who never sat up all night, except at a revel, are watch-
ing their own kitchens for fear of secret meetings.
" Ah me " poor Inez says, " were there ever such hateful
!

times.' When
will Roland come? When will Aunt Eunice
come ? When
can I go back to the plantation ?
One afternoon Mr. Perrycame home later than usual, and
looked even more troubled than usual. He changed his
coat, and made ready for dinner, apologized to Inez' for
making her dinner late, and then bade the servant call Ran-
som.
"I do not think he is in, papa. He has not come home
since I sent him down to you."
" Why, that," said her father, " was but little after noon.
He came, and gave him his papers for the 'Hannah.'
I
The '
Hannah cast loose, and was gone in twenty minutes.
'

Tarbottle stood on the quarter, and waved his hat to me, as

they drifted by the office. Where can the old fellow have
gone ?
These were the first words, remembered for days after-
ward, about a mysterious disappearance of the good old
man. One more of Inez's stand-bys out of the way.
For that afternoon Mr. Perry gave himself no care. So
322 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

often was Ransom out of the way that there was an open
which pretended that he was major-domo
jest in the family,
in another household, and spent half of his time in it. Mr.
Perry needed him this evening ; but he often needed him
when he had to do without him. He merely directed that
word should be brought to him of Ransom's return, and
made no inquiry.
But when it appeared, the next morning, that Ransom had
not slept at home, matters looked more serious. A theory
was started that he had gone down the river with the " Han-
nah," to return with the river-pilot ; but an express to the
vessel, which was making but slow progress, settled that idea.
A message up to the plantation showed that he was not
there. A note from Capt. Tarbottle made sUre that the old
fellow had landed safely from the brig ; but from that mo-
ment not a word could be heard of poor Ransom.
Mr. Perry's anxiety was much greater than he could
describe to Inez. The girl was so much attached to her
old protector that his death would be to her a terrible
calamity. To Inez, therefore, Mr. Perry affected much more
confidence than he felt. The truth was, that if the old man
had not carried much such a charmed life as crazy men
carry in Islam, he would have been put out of the way long
before. In this mixed chaotic population of French, Span-
ish, Portuguese, Italians, Sicilians, English, Irish, negroes,
and Indians, Ransom was going and coming, announcing
from moment to moment, to men's faces, that they were all
thieves and liars and worse. How he had escaped without
a thousand hand-to-hand battles, was and had been a mys-
tery to Silas Perry. Now that Ransom was gone, his own
conviction was simply that the hour had come, which had
been postponed as by a miracle. After three days of inquiry,
he was certain that he should never see Ransom again. The
blow of a dirk, and a plash into the river, would make little
echo and the Mississippi tells no tales.
;

No one said this to poor Inez ; but poor Inez was not
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 323

such a fool but she suspected it. She did not like to tell
her father how much she suspected, and how much she feared.
She did write to her aunt; and she poured out her fears,
without hesitation, to Ma-ry. If Sister Barbara or Sister
Horrida wanted to read this, they were welcome.
Weary with such anxieties, the poor girl Bat waiting for her
father one evening, even later than on the day when Ransom
disappeared. At last she called Antoine to know if his
master had spoken of a late dinner. " No, monsieur had
said nothing." Then Antoine might make ready to walk with
her to the counting-room ; and Antoine might take a bottle
of claret with him perhaps her father was not well.
:

The sun had fairly set. The twilight is very short ; and
even at that hour the street, never much frequented, 'was
still. The girl almost flew over the ground in her eagerness.
But the counting-room was wholly locked up ; no one was
there. Indeed, no one was in the neighborhood.
Papa must have stopped at Mr. Huling's. They would
walk round that way ; and they did so. With as clear a voice
as she could command, and with well-acted indifference, she
called across the yard to Mr. Huling, who was smoking in
his gallery, and who ran to her as soon as he recognized- her
voice.
No. As it happened, he had not seen Mr. Perry all day.
He expected him, but Mr. Perry had not come round. He
had thought he might have gone up the river. Had Miss
Perry any news of old Ransom ?
Mr. Huling was the American vice-consul, and Inez was
half tgmpted to open her whole budget of terrors to him.
But she knew this would displease her father. Indeed, he
was probably at home by this time, waiting for her. She said
as much to her friend, left a message for the ladies, and with-
drew. So soon as she had passed the garden she fairly
ran home.
No father there
A message to the tppfe-keeper brought him round tP W9»-
324 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

der, but to suggest nothing. Mr. Perry had left the counting-
room rather earlier than usual, had walked down the river
bank that was all any one had observed. The old man was
:

not a person of resource, and could only express sympathy.

And so poor Inez was left indeed alone. What a night
that was to her How it recalled the horrible night on the
!

Little Brassos Only then it was she who had drifted away
!

from the rest of them now she was the fixture, and every-
:

body —
everybody she loved —
had drifted away from her.
One by one, they had all gone. Nobody to talk to, nobody
to consult, nobody even to cry with. Ma-ry gone, Roland
gone, her aunt gone, poor old Ransom gone, and now papa
gone ! Vainly she tried to persuade herself that she was a
fool ; that papa was at Daniel Clark's card-party, or had
stopped for a cup of tea with the Joneses. But really she
knew papa did not do such things without dressing, and
that
without sending word home. Papa would never frighten her
so. She tried to imagine sudden exigencies on shipboard
which might have called him down the river for the night.
This was a little more hopeful. But she did not in her heart
believe this, and she knew she did not. The girl was too
much her father's confidante, he talked with her quite too
freely and wisely about his affairs, for her to pretend to take
this comfort solidly.
She went through the form of ordering in the dinner, and
ordering it out again. She wrapped her shawl around her,
and sat on the gallery, to catch the first footstep. Footstep
No footsteps in that street after nine at night She watched
!

the stars, and saw them pass down behind the magnolias.
When Fomalhaut was fairly out of sight, she would give it up
and go to bed. As if she could sleep to-night
And yet, poor tired child, she did sleep ; she slept then
and there. And she dreamed. What did she dream of ?
Ah me What did poor Inez dream of most often ? She
!

was sitting in the gallery. Her shawl was round her head,
as she dreamed ; and there was a quick footstep in the street.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 325

Then some one stopped, and knocked hard at the street-gate.

And then, as she sat, she could see a head above the gate, —
a Lead without a hat on. Arid the head spoke in the dark-
ness ; it cried loud :
" Ransom, Ransom ! Caesar, Caesar 1

Miss Eunice, Miss Eunice Miss Inez, Miss Inez!

!

It was the head of William Harrod, and it was William

Harrod's voice which called.
Inez was well waked now. With one hand she seized the
hall-bell, and rang it loud to call Antoine. She dashed down
the steps, not waiting an instant, nor seeing the winding
garden-path. She rushed^-across the circular grass-plat, and
through the shrubbery to the gate. She unbolted the gate,
flung it back, and threw it open. But there was no one
there Inez thought she heard receding steps in the dark-
!

ness ; but, if so, it was but an instant. By the time Antoine

was by her side, all was midnight silence.
The girl compelled the frightened Antoine to run with her
to the corner of the street. But all was still as death in the
cross-street to which she led him. And she was obliged to
return to the house, wondering, had she been asleep, and had
she dreamed ? Could dreams be as life-like as this was ?
Inez confessed to herself that she had dreamed of William
Harrod before ; but never had she seen his face or heard
his voice in a dream which had such reality as this.
It will not do to say that she passed a sleepless night.
There are few sleepless nights to girls of her age and health.
But the sleep was broken by dreams, and they were always
dreams of horror. All alone she was indeed ; and such was
their life in Orleans, that there were strangely few people to
whom the girl could turn for counsel.
So soon as she thought it would answer in the morning,
she went out herself to see Mr. Huling, resolved to intrust
all her agonies to him, as she should have done at the first,

she now thought. Alas at sunrise, Mr. Huling had gone

!

down the river, on an errand at the Balize, which would

detain him many days. There was only a consul's clerk, a
326 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

though willing enough, with whom

Stranger, clearly inefficient,
Inez could confide. She did intrast him with her story, but
she did not tnake him feel its importance. He promised her,
however, to call on Mr. Daniel Clark or Mr. Jones, and on
young Mr. Bingaman, and to be governed by their advice.
He undertook to persuade her that she was unduly alarmed.
Her father was visiting some friend. He would be back
before the day was over. For such is the way in which igno-
rant and inefficient men usually treat women.
Inez had more success in rousing the interest and sjmipa-
thy of Mr. Pollock, one of her father's companions and
frends. But even he, interested as he was, did not want to
alarm the city vainly. Nor did Inez want to. He sent an
express to the plantation, and lost half a day so, in justifying
Inez in her certainty that her father was not there. And in
such useless fritter, which she knew was useless, the day was
wasted, before he brought the consul's clerk to an under-
standing of who Silas Perry was, and that some inquiry as to
his welfare was incumbent on the Americans in Orleans, and
on those who represented them.
A horrible day to Inez. She was becoming a woman very
fast now.
Just before dark, when her loneliness seemed the most
bitter when she had done every thing she could think of
;

doing, had turned every stone, and felt that she had utterly
failed, that she had as little resource as poor old M. Desbigny
the book-keeper had, —
she heard an unexpected sound;
and one of the little Chihuahua dogs which the girls had
brought with them from Antonio — the token of Mr. Lons-
dale's attention —jumped upon her lap.
" One being that has not left me, that tries to find me."
This was Inez's first thought, as she fondled the little crea-
ture ;and there was a sort of guilty thought mingled with
it, that she had never been specially attentive to her pet

He was a pretty creature, but he was Mr. Lonsdale's present.

Ma-ry had been much more attentive to hers ; but Inez had
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 327

willingly enough left her dog to a little black boy at the

plantation. And now this little forsaken wretch, grateful for
such scant favors as Inez had bestowed,
had followed her down the river. How
did he get here to be her companion when
she had no other }
Are you sure of that, Inez ? I B K "^^
As she bent over the little wretch to
fondle him, she felt a real sinking of
heart at finding that was not Skip,
it

after all, but Now, Trip was

Trip.
Ma-ry's dog, and not hers. Trip had
escaped from convent fare to the more
luxurious home he was first used to,

Inez was so angry that she took him in

both hands to push him from her lap, —
when her hand closed on a little bit of
paper wound tightly round his back leg,
so colored with charcoal as to match the
hairless skin precisely.
In an instant Inez had clipped the
thread which bound
it, and took the scrap

to the light.
As it unrolled, it was a strip of paper
several inches long, very narrow. Not
one word of writing on it! Ma-ry had
not meant to risk any secrets. But in
dingy red characters, —
Inez knew only
too well where that red came from,
in the Indian hieroglyphic with which
she and Ma-ry had whiled away so
many rainy days, was a legend which
answered, oh, so many questions
There was the sign of Ransom, an eye strangely cocked
up to heaven ; the sign or token of Mr. Perry, two feathers,
cut in the shape to which the old-fashioned penmen always
328 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

trimmed their [Link] these signs was a

twisted rope, doubly wreathed. And Inez knew that this
meant that both Mr. Perry and Ransom were in prison.
But this was not all, but only the beginning. In long series,

there was the rising sun ; there was the roof of a house
there was a hawk, a tree ; strange devices defying all per-
spective and all rules of design. But Inez knew their mean-
ing, and wrought out the sequence from the beginning. The
legend directed her to take, with her brother's field-glass, a
little before the sun rose the next morning, some station from
which she could see the top of the Ursuline convent. Ma-ry
could tell her by the pantomime of the Indian race, what she
dared not commit to paper, for fear some adept in the Indian
hieroglyphic might catch poor Trip as he worked his way
from the convent garden.
Of all the wonders which Roland had brought home from
Paris, nothing had delighted Ma-ry so much as this field-
glass, which he had selected from the workshop of the Lere-
bours of the day. Often had she expatiated to him and
to Inez together, on the advantages of this instrument to
people who were surrounded with enemies. More than once
had Inez, and once in particular, as she now remembered,
had her aunt, tried to explain to Ma-ry that as most people
lived they were not surrounded with enemies, and that the
uses of the field-glass were, in fact, pacific. But this girl
had grown up with the habit of questioning every rustling
leaf. She had not been persuaded out of her theory. All
this talk Inez remembered to-night, as she wiped the lenses
of the field-glass, and as she reconnoitred the garden to
make sure which magnolia-tree best commanded the roof of
the Ursulines' convent.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 329

CHAPTER XXXIV.
"Short exhortations need." Neptune in Ovid.

Before it was light, — long before the time Ma-ry had

indicated in her blood-red letter, — Inez was working her
way up the tall magnolia which stood south of the house.
She had taken a garden-ladder to the lower branches, and
now scrambled up without much more difficulty than the
lizards which she startled as she did so. How often in little-
girl days had she climbed this very tree. Ransom approving

and directing! And how well she remembered the last

victorious ascent for a white bud that seemed to defy all
assault ; and then, alas the prohibition which had crowned
!

victory, and robbed it of all its laurels, as her aunt and even
her father had joined against her, and bidden her never
climb the tree again
Ah me ! if only either of them were here, she would not
disobey them now! How wretched to be her own mis-
tress !

The field-glass was swung around her neck by its strap

and the girl brought in her hand the end of a long narrow
pennon of white cotton cloth. When she had attained a
station which wholly commanded the roof of St. Ursula's
shrine, Inez pulled up by the pennon a fishing-rod which she
had attached to it, —
one of the long canes from the brake
which are the joy of the Louisiana anglers, and thrust the—
rod high above her head into the air, so that the pennon
waved bravely in the morning. breeze. With this signal Inez
330 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

knew she could say, "I understand," or by rapid negatives

could order any thing repeated.
And then she had to wait and wait again, her eye almost
glued to the eye-piece. She could at last count the tiles on
the roof-tree of the convent She could see a lazy lizard
walk over them, and jump when he caught flies. The Ursu-
lines' is not far away from Silas Perry's garden ; and, but for
the more minute signals of the pantomime, she would not
have needed the field-glass at all.
Ready as she was, she did not lose one moment of poor
Ma-ry's stolen time. Inez at last saw the girl appear upon
the corridor of the schoolroom, —
what in older countries
would have been called a cloister, and perhaps was in St
Ursula's fore-ordination. She passed rapidly along to the
corner where a China-tree shaded the end of the gallery.
Without looking behind her, she sprung upon the railing ; she
was in the tree in a moment, and in a moment more had left
it, to stand unencumbered on the roof of this wing of the spa-

cious buildings.
When people in a house are looking for a person out of
a house, there is no point so difficult for them to observe as

the top of that house \ and tliere is no point which they so

little think of searching.
Ma-ry had had less to do with houses than any person in
Orleans,if one excepts a few old Caddo hags who crouched

around the market ; but she had made the observation just
now put on paper, before she had been in Nacogdoches an
hour.
If eleven thousand virgins of St Ursula searched for her in
eleven thousand niches, or under eleven thousand beds, they
would not find her; and, while they were searching, she
would be telling the truth, —
a business at which she was
good, and which St Ursula herself probably would not dis-
approve.
The girl turned to Silas Perry's garden, saw the pennon,
and clapped her hands gladly.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 331

The pennon waved gracefully in sympathy.

Then the pantomime began. Grief, bitter — grief; cer-
tainty, — utter certainty; and then the sign for yesterday.
She was very sorry for the news, she was certain it was true,
and she had only known it yesterday.
The pennon waved gently its sympathy, and its steady " I
understand."
The girl walked freely from place to place, and made her
gestures as boldly as a mistress of ballet would do in pres-
ence of three thousand people.
Ransom was taken nine days ago. He is now in the sol-
diers' room under the Ever
court-house, next the cathedral.
since, they have been trying to find Mr. Perry alone. Day
before yesterday they found him and took him. He is in the
governor's own house. After early mass yesterday, one of
the fathers came to the convent, as was his custom. After he
had confessed three novices, he had a talk with Sister Bar-
bara. He told her what Ma-ry told Inez. Sister Barbara
told Sister Helena, in presence of a Mexican girl whom Ma-ry
had been kind to. The Mexican girl told Ma-ry.
Ma-ry thought that Ransom and Mr. Perry were both to be
sent to Cuba.
Cuba was intimated by an island which would be reached
by a voyage of ten days, —
an island in which there were a
thousand Spanish soldiers.
Lest any news should be sent after this vessel, an embargo
on all vessels would be ordered for a fortnight. The embargo
was denoted by rowers, who were suddenly stopped in their
paddling. Ma-ry had to repeat this signal, because the pen-
non waved uncertainty. When she was sure all was under-
stood, she kissed her hand, and then, pointing to the rising
sun, bade Inez keep tryst the next day but one.
The glad pennon nodded its assent cheerfully, and Ma-ry
disappeared.
News indeed
Inez wrote this note to Mr. Bingaman :
—
332 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

Inez Perry to Micah Bingaman.

Thursday Morning.
My dear Mr. Bingaman, —
have just learned, and am certain, that
I
my father is in confinement in the government house.
Old Ransom, our servant, who disappeared ten days ago, is shut up
closely in the guard-house.
Both of them are to be sent to Cuba ; and, for fear the news shall be
sent down the river, anembargo will be proclaimed to-day.
I beg you to press up the consul's clerk to some prompt action. Can-
not Mr. Clark be sent for ? Respectfully yours,
Inez Perry.

Well written, Inez You are becoming a woman, indeed

! !

SisterBarbara does not teach one to write such letters ; and

I am not sure that even St. Ursula fore-ordained them, or
looked down to them through the prophetic vista of many-
years.
Antoine was sent with this note to Mr. Bingaman ; and

really glad, for the first time, that there was any thing she
could do, Inez ordered her breakfast, and sat down, determin-
ing very fast what she would do next.
And this time the girl ate her breakfast with a will.

As she finished it, she heard a question at the back steps

of the corridor, on the brick walk which led to the kitchen,
and then a sort of altercation with the smart Antoine.
" Ask Miss Perry," said a stranger in very bad French,
which Antoine knew was no Creole's, " if she does not want
to buy some^/i."
Antoine did not reflect that his young mistress overheard
every word ; and with accent more precise than the stran-
ger's, but with expression far less civil, told him to go to hell
with his sassafras, that the sassafras of Little Vernon was
worth all other sassafras, and that he was to leave the garden
as soon as might be.
Inez needed no nerving for her first contest with Antoine.
She rang sharply.
" Antoine, you are never to speak to any person so in my
house. Go beg the man's pardon, and bid him come in."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 333

Antoine went out, mumbled some apology, and returned

much crestfallen with the huckster.
Inez had never said " house " before, my
Inez rose. She scarcely looked at the man, who was,
indeed, the wildest creature that even the Sunday market
could have shown her. Bare feet, red with mud which must
have clung to them for days ; trousers of skin patched With
cottonade, or cottonade patched with skin ; hair bushy and
curling, covering and concealing the face ; and the face itself
browned so that it would be hard to say whether it were
Indian, mulatto, or Spanish, by the color. A miserable
Indian blanket torn in twenty holes, of which the largest let
through the wearer's head, gave the only intimation as to his
nationality.
Inez lifted the dried leaves in her hand, tasted some of the
fibres, and said, —
" YoMxfil'e is very good ; I wish you had brought us more.
Take the basket into the herb-room." Then to the obsequi-
ous Antoine, who led the way, " No, Antoine, wait at the
gate for Mr. Bingaman's message : or no, Antoine ; go, ask
him if he has no answer for me. I will show the man up-
stairs."
The savage shouldered his basket, and followed Inez. She
threw open the door of a corner room in the attic story. He
brought the basket in, and kicked the door to behind him ;

and then, and not till then, did Inez rush to him, seized both
his hands in hers, looked upon him with such joy as an hour
before she would have said was impossible, and then said, —
"Am I awake? Can it be true? Where did you come
from ?

" Dear Miss Inez," said Will Harrod, " it is true ; you are
wide awake and your welcome," he added boldly, " pays for
;

the sufferings of years."

"
" Welcome ! You knew you were welcome. Will !

She had never called him " Will " before ; and thej* both

knew it. Her cheeks flushed fire, and they were both, oh 1

so glad and so happy

334 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

" There never was a time when needed you so much,"

I

said she eagerly, as she made him sitdown.

" There never is a time when I do not need you," said he
bravely.
" But why are you in all this rig ? I thought I must not
let Antoine know."
"I am afraid you are right. You are certainly prudent
and wise. Heavens ! How careful I have been for the last

forty-eight hours! Are they all crazy here ?

" I believe the governor is crazy. The intendant is surely.

But do you know what they have done ? My father is in
prison, and Ransom, dear old Ransom, too."
" In prison ? "
" In prison, and are to go to Cuba. You know what that
means. But I feel now as if something could be done, now
you are here. How are you here? Oh, Mr. Harrod, they
"
all told me you were dead !

And here the poor girl fairly cried ; and, for a moment,
lost her self-command.
" Did you think I was dead ? " said he eagerly.
" Think so ? I knew so till Tuesday night then I dreamed
:

I saw your head over the garden gate, and it called me, —
twice it called me."
" Yes," said Harrod laughing ; " and it called very loud,
and it called Caesar and Ransom too. But, before anybody
could come, the men with sticks were after the head, and the
poor head had to run, and to hide again till this morning. I
gave them the slip this time."
" It was you ? It was you ? Then, I am not a fool But, !

Mr. Harrod, you called Caesar do you not know ? "

:

" Know, my dearest Miss Inez I know nothing.

.?
I only
know, that after escaping from those rascally Comanches,
after starving to sleep, and waking so crazy with hunger that
I thought I was in purgatory, after such a story of struggle
and misery as would touch a Turk's heart, I came out at
Natchitoches for help, to be clapped into their guard-house.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 335

Then I knocked two idiots' heads together, blew out what

brains one had with his own gun, trusted to my friendly river
again, and worked my way down on a log to Point Coupde, to
be arrested again by a guarda casta. I bided my time till
they were all blind drunk one night, stole their boat, and
floated down here, to be arrested, this time, for stealing the
boat. But I am used to breaking bounds. Tuesday I took
refuge with some friendly Caddoes, and, by Jove the savage !

protects what the white man hunts to death. My own cos-

tume was not so select as this. I owe this to their munifi-
cence."
"I thought you were dressed like a prince," said Inez
frankly. " Now you have come, all will b» well."
Then came a little consultation. Inez explained to him
the reign of terror in which they lived, so far as itcould be
explained. But she found, first of all, that she must break
his heart by telling of Phil Nolan's fate, and Fanny Lintot's.
All through his perils, he had heard no word of that mas-
sacre. His calling for Caesar had given her the first suspi-
cion of his ignorance.
How much there was to tell him, and how much for him to
tell her
Inez bravely told the horrid story of Phil Nolan's death.
She told him, as frankly as she could, why she did not at first

believe that he was in the party ; and then, how Caesar had
confirmed her. But all hope for his life was over, she said,
when Mr. Perry had found the news of Richards's treason,
and the others, as Mr. Perry had found it, and as the reader
has heard it. Two years had gone by since the gay young
man had bidden them good-by in sight of the San Antonio
crosses.
" But now you have come," she said again bravely, " all
wUl be well and now we must look forward, and not back.
;

Do you remember that ? "

" It has saved my life a hundred times," said he. " God
only knows where I should be," he added reverently, " if I
had not remembered to look up, and not down."
336 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

" These people have lost the track of you, as the knocker
of heads together. You have now only to dress, pardon
me," said she, really merry now —
to think that she should
ever be merry again ! —
" and to shave, and then you may
walk unrecognized through our valiant army. Go into my
brother's room," she said. She led him in, and unlocked the
wardrobes. " See what you can find there must be some
:

razors somewhere."
" If my right hand has not lost its cunning," said Harrod,
entering into her mood.
" Take what you find," said she. " I wish only dear
Roland were here to help you. He is not as stout as you
are, but perhaps you can manage."
And so she hurried down-stairs, happy enough, to forget
for a minute or two her weight of anxiety.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 337

CHAPTER XXXV.
SAVAGE LIFE.

" And as his bones were big, and sinews strong,

Reftised no toil that could to slaves belong,
But used his noble hands the wood to hew."
Palamon and Arcite.

William Harrod had indeed lived through a lifetime of

had parted from these ladies
horrors in the period since he
above San Antonio Bexar.
It is of such adventures that the personal history of the
pioneers who gave to us the Valley of the Mississippi is full
but it is very seldom that personal history crowds together
so much and so much of
of danger, trial, in so short a time.
So soon as he knew that he was a prisoner, Harrod frankly
accepted the Situation of a prisoner, with that readiness to
adapt himself to his surroundings which gave at once the
charm and the strength to his character. He was to be a
slave. The business of a slave was to obey. That business
he would learn and fulfil ; not, indeed, with the slightest
purpose of remaining in that position, but 'because a man
ought to make the best of any position, however odious.
With the same cheerful good-temper, therefore, with which
he would have complied with a whim of Inez, whom he loved,
or a wish of Eunice, whom he respected, he now complied
with a whim of the Long Horn, whom at the bottom of his
heart he hated, and whom he would abandon at the first
instant. Nor was here any treachery to the Long Horn. If
Harrod or the Long Horn could have analyzed the sentiment,
 338 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

it was based on pride, — the pride of a man who knew so

thoroughly that he was the Long Horn's superior that he
, need not make any parade about it. He submitted to his
exactions as a sensible person may submit to the exactions of
a child whom for an hour he has in charge, but for whose
education lie has no other opportunities, and is not responsi-
ble.
Day after day, therefore, the Long Horn had more and
more reason to congratulate himself on the slave he had in
hand. He did not congratulate himself. A process so
intricate,and so much approaching to reflection, did not
belong to the man or to his race. But he did leave to Har-
rod, more and more, those cares for which the women of his
lodges were too weak, and for which he was too lazy ; and
of such cares, in the life of a clan of shirks and cowards,
there are not a few.
Harrod himself was able to learn some things, and to
teach many, without his pupils knowing that they were taught.
This does not mean, as a missionary board may suppose, that
he built a log-cabin, sent to Chihuahua for primers and writing-
books, and set the Long Horn and the False Heart to learn-
ing their letters and their pot-hooks. He taught them how
to take care of their horses and many a poor brute, galled
;

and wincing, had to thank him for relief. He simplified

their systems of corralling and of tethering. And on his own
part, thorough-bred woodman as he was, his eyes were open
every moment to learn something in that art which is so
peculiarly the accomplishment of a gentleman, that no man
without some skill in it can be called a chevalier.
It was to such arts that he soon owed a dignity in the
tribe which materially tended to his own comfort, and ulti-
mately effected his escape.
The great wealth of the Indians of the plains of the Colo-
rado of the West, and even of the mountains, was in their
horses. They treated them horribly, partly from ignorance,
partly from carelessness, but not because they did not value
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 339

them. It is a mistake of the political economists to sup-

pose that selfishness will compel us to be tender when our
passions are aroused. Of course the easiest way to obtain a
good horse was to steal him, as these fellows had stolen
Harrod's. In periods either of unusual need or of unusual
courage, they pounced on a Spanish outpost, and so provided
themselves. Perhaps they won horses in fight, as the result
of a contest in which large numbers overpowered small, the —
only occasion in which they ever fought willingly. Failing
such opportunities, they were fain to catch the wild horses,
and, after their fashion, to break them to their uses. They
were passionately fond of horse-raicing, which is not to be
counted as only an accomplishment of civilized men.
So great is the power of the man over the brute, that one
man alone, and he on foot, can, in the end, walk down and
take captive even the mustang ^ of the prairies. It would
be only in an extreme case, of course, that that experiment
would be tried. But two men alone can catch their horses
from a herd even of wild ones, almost as well as if they had
more companions. If they be mounted, so much the easier
for them.
In the sublime indolence of the Comanche chiefs, there-
fore, horses beginning to fail, the Long Horn and the Sheep's
Tail each of them detached a slave to the hard job of taking
three or four horses each for them, which they would next
have to break to the saddle.
The method of capture is based on the habit of the wild
horse to keep at or near his home. He knows that home as
well as the queen-bee knows hers ; and his range is probably
not much wider than that through which her subjects wander.
Each herd has its captain, or director ; and this director does
not lead it more than fifteen, or at the utmost twenty miles,
inone direction. When he has passed that limit, he returns,
and leads his herd with him to the region which is familiar to
them.
1 The derivation is said to be from tlie Spanish " mestana," — that which is

common property, or belongs to the state, " mesia."

340 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

The hunter observes this limit for any particular herd of

horses, and then knows what his duty is. He builds a
corral ready for his captives. Then one of the two pursuers,
if the party be as small as in Harrod's case, follows the herd
even leisurely. They only follow close enough to have their
presence observed. The stallion who leads, leads at such
pace as he chooses, avoiding the pursuer by such route as he
chooses. If the herd turned against the pursuer, they could
trample him into the ground. But they do not turn : they
avoid him. The pursuer keeps steadily behind. At a time
agreed upon, one of the two men stops with his horse for
rest and sleep ; the other " takes up the wondrous tale," and
for twelve hours keeps close enough to the wandering herd
to keep them moving ; in turn he stops and sleeps j but his
companion is awake by this time, has found the trail, and
keeps the poor hunted creatures in motion. There is no stop
to sleep for them ; and so jaded and worn down are they by a
few days and nights of this motion —
almost constant and
without sleep —that at last no thong nor lasso is needed for
their capture. You may at last walk up to the tired beast
who has lost his night's rest so long, twist your hand into his
mane, and lead him unresisting into the corral you have pro-
vided for him. Poor brute Only let him rest, and you may
!

do what else you will.

On such an enterprise Will Harrod was sent with the
Crooked Finger, a young brave who was young enough to
have some enterprise, and proud enough to be pleased at
being trusted with so good a woodman as Harrod. Each of
them was respectably mounted, —
not very well mounted, for
the Long Horn and the Sheep's Tail had but few horses,
or they would not be hunting more, and they wanted the
best horses for themselves. Nor, for this line of horse-taking,
was speed so essential. The young fellows found the herd,
and made a good guess as to its more frequent haunts then ;

they built their little corral; then they took a long night's
sleep ; then they started for the trail, soon found it, and soon
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 341

overtook the animals they sought. Harrod was magnanimous

as always he bade the Crooked Finger take the first rest
;

he would follow the herd through the twelve hours of that

moonlight night, and at dawn of the sun the Crooked Finger
must' strike in. When Harrod had reason to suppose that he
was well on the trail, he also would stop, and he and his
horse would sleep.
For two days and two nights this amusement continued.
An occasional pull at some dried meat kept soul and body
together ; and the horses and the men followed their unevent-
ful round, which was, in fact, a very irregular oval.
As Crooked Finger finished his second tour of service, he
saw Harrod just mounting for his third. They simply
nodded to each other ; but Harrod dismounted, and busied
himself with his horse's mouth and rein. Crooked Finger
approached, and gave some brief report of the day's pursuit,
to which Harrod replied by the proper ugks ; and then, as
Crooked Finger dismounted, he seized the savage in his iron
arms, much as he remembered to have been seized himself
by the Long Horn, fastened his elbows tight behind him with
a leather thong, and kicked his horse so resolutely that the
horse disappeared. Harrod's horse was tethered too tightly
to follow him.
" Good-by, Crooked Finger," said Harrod good-naturedly.
" Here is meat enough, if you are careful, to take you to the
lodges. I am going home."
The vanquished savage made not a struggle, and uttered
not a sound. In Harrod's place he would have scalped the
other, and he knew it. He supposed that Harrod did not
scalp him, only because he had no scalping-knife.
Harrod was free ; and, so far did he have the advantage of
the tribe, that they made no attempt And he
to follow him.
never feared their pursuit for one moment. But he did fear
other captors, and he feared want of food. This meat pro-
vided for the hunt would not last forever. This somewhat
sorry beast he rode must have time to feed. The hunting
342 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS :

of a man who has neither knife, gun, nor arrows, is but poor
hunting, — for food, not very nutritious ; and poor Harrod
knew come when he should be glad of
that the time might
had ever eaten in a Comanche lodge.
the sorriest meal he
But Harrod was free, and freedom means ah a great — !

deal!
This chapter cannot tell, and must not try to tell, the
adventures of days and weeks, even of months, at last
lengthening out into the second year of his exile, as, by one
device and another, the poor fellow worked eastward and
still eastward. He came out upon the lodges of the Upper
Red River, where Phil Nolan had smoked the pipe of peace
only the year before. He found the memory of his great
commander held in high esteem there ; and he had wit to
represent himself as a scout from his party, only accidentally
separated from them for a few days. Nicoroco remembered
the calumet of peace, and had come to him of
tidings
Nolan's discipline of One Eye, a memory which served Will
Harrod well and, after a sojourn of a few days with Nico-
;

roco, Harrod proceeded, refreshed, upon his way.

It was after this oasis in the desert of that year's life, that
the most serious of his adventures came. He had been
hunted by a troop of savages, of which nation he knew not,
but whom he dared not trust. He was satisfied that the
time had come when he must do what he had all along in-
tended to do, —
abandon his poor brute, who was more and
more worthless every day, and trust himself to the swollen
current of the magnificent Red River. Such raft as he could
make for himself must bear him down till he could commu-
nicate with the pioneer French settlements, and be safe.
He knew very well, in this crisis, that it was the last step
which would cost. But Harrod was beyond counting risks
now he risked every thing every day.
:

It isnot so easy to make a raft, when one has not even a

jack-knife. Trees do not accidentally rot into the shapes one
wants, or the lengths one can handle. But Harrod's ambi-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 343

tion for his raft was not aspiring. Two logs, so braced and
tied that they should not roll under him, —
only this, and
nothing more, was the raft which he needed. In a long,
anxious day, the logs were found. With grape-vines mostly,
and with the invaluable leather thongs which had been his
reins so long, the obdurate twisted sticks were compelled to
cling together. Their power of floating was not much but ;

they were well apart from each other in one place, and there
Harrod wedged in a shorter log, which was to be his wet
throne. And so, with a full supply of poles and misshapen
paddles, he pushed off upon his voyage. The boiling and
whirling stream bore him swiftly down and there was at ;

least the comfort of knowing that the last act of this tedious
drama had come. How the play would turn out, he would
know before long.
Day after day of this wild riding of the waters ! And, for
food, the poorest picking, — grapes, well-nigh raisins for dry-
ness, astringent enough at the best ; sassafras bark was a
flavor, but not nourishing ; snails sometimes and once or
;

twice a foolish fish, caught by the rudest of machinery but :

very little at the very best. " How many

hired servants of
my father have bread enough and to spare ! " said poor Will
Harrod ; for he was very hungry.
Where he know only he was on the Red
was, he did not :

River above " the Raft." His hope was to come to " the
Raft " then he should only be two or three days from the
:

highest French farms. Only two or three days. Will Har-

rod, with nothing to eat Armies have perished, because for
!

twenty-four hours the regular ration did not come.

Even the Red River could not last forever. At last he
came to a raft, so thick and impassable that he hoped it was
the Great Raft. Any reader who has seen the tangled mass
of timber above a saw-mill can imagine what the Great Raft
was, if he will remember that it was made up, not of felled
logs, but of trees with their branches, as for centuries they
had been whirled down the stream. First formed at a nar-
344 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

row gorge of the Red River, it extended upward, at this time,

one hundred and thirty miles. The river flowed beneath.
Soil gathered above. Trees took root, and grew upon it to be
large and strong. In high water the river found other courses
round it. On parts of the Raft a man could travel. Through
parts ofit, a canoe could sail. It was this wreck of matter,
— "toku va bohu,"
this —
the utter confusion of water which
was not land, and land which was not water, which marked
for WillHarrod the end of his navigation.
With the precious thongs, a bit of sharp flint, and the tail

of an imprudent cat-fish, as his only baggage, he landed on

the bank not far above the water-line, and boldly pushed
down on the southern shore. He thought Nachitoches could
not be a hundred miles away ; and that night he slept well.
The next day he made good time. Little to eat, for no cat-
; still that night he slept well.
fish rose to his bait The next
day came the worst repulse of all.
—
A bayou back from the stream all gorged with bark and
trees and wreck like the main river — cut off his eastward
course. Nothing for it but to return
Never That way was sure death. Will ventured on the
!

Raft itself. To cross the bayou proved impossible. One

could not swim there one could not walk there, more than
:

one could fly. But the river itself was here more practica-
ble, — not for swimming, but for walking. So old was the
Raft that the logs had rotted on the surface, and weeds and
bushes had grown there. It was more like a bit of prairie,
than of river. One must watch every step. Still one could
walk here ; and, though the channel was very broad here.
Will Harrod held his course, slowly and not confidently.
No food that day not a snail, not a grape, not a lizard,
!

far less red-fish or cat-fish. And that night's sleep was

not so sound. Water is but little refreshment, when one
breakfasts on a few handfuls of it, after such a day; but
with such breakfast Will Harrod must keep on. Keep on
he did j but he knew his legs dragged, that he missed his
 OR. "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 345

foothold when he ought not, and that his head spun weirdly,
that he did not see things well.
" This is one way to die," said poor Will aloud. And then,
sitting on a moss-grown cypress stick, he looked wistfully
round him ; and then, when a belated grasshopper lighted by
his side, with a clutch of frenzy he snatched the creature,
and held him helpless in his hand.
Victory
The grasshopper, yet living, was tied tight to the end of
the little thong which had served for a line all along. A
stout acacia-thorn, one of a dozen at Harrod's girdle, was
tied in a knot just above. And, with cheerfulness he had
thought impossible, he went to the nearest open hole, to bob
and bob again for his life.
But how soon the dizziness returned How many hours !

did he sit there in the sun ? Will Harrod never knew. Only
at last, a gulp, a pull at the cord, and a noble fish food for —
three or four days, as Will Harrod had been using food —
was in the air, —
was flapping on the so-called ground at his
side.
Victory
With the bit of sharpened stone which had served him all

along, he killed the fish, opened him, and cleaned him. Little
thought or care for fire ! He returned carefully to his lair, to
put by the sacred implements of the chase, which had served
him so well. Weak as he was, he tripped, — his foot was
tangled in a grape-vine, — and he fell. As he disentangled
himself, he could see an alligator rise — not very rapidly,
either — from the stream, make directly to the prize ; and, be-
fore poor Will was free, the brute had plunged with the fish
into the river.
" Miss Inez," said he, as in the evening they sat in the
gallery, and he told this story, " I never despaired till then.
But my head was swimming. The beast looked like the very
Devil himself. I lay back on the ground, and I said, Then ' I
will die.' And, will you believe me I fell asleep.
'i
346 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

" I
woke up, —
I do not know how soon. But, as I woke,
my one thought was of sitting and bobbing there. What had
I seen when I was bobbing ? Had not I seen a log cut with
an axe ? Why did I not think of that before ? Because I
could only think of my bait and my line. Was it cut by an
axe I went back to the stream.
? It was cut by an axe. It

was an old dug-out, a —

Frenchman's pirogue, bottom up.
How quick I turned it over ! Where it came into that bayou,
it could go out. I laid into it my precious line and cutting-
stone. I broke me off sticks for fending-poles. I was strong
as a lion now. I bushwhacked here, I poled there, I pad-
dled there. In an hour I was free \ and then the sun was
so hot above me, that I fainted away in the bottom of the
canoe."
" You poor, poor child " sobbed the sympathizing Inez.
!

" And, the next I knew, it was evening, and an old French-
man held me in his arms, at the shore, and was pouring milk
down my throat in spoonfuls. Weak as I was, I clutched his
pail, and he thought I should have drunk myself to death.
He did not clap me in irons, though I did come from above."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 347

CHAPTER XXXVI.
IN PRISON, AND YE VISITED ME.

" Curse on the unpardoning prince, whom tears can draw

To no remorse, who rules by lions' law.
And deaf to prayers, by no submission bowed,
Rends all alike, the penitent and proud."
Palamon and Arcile.

But Miss Inez and Master William did not spend that
morning in telling or in hearing this tale. It is from long
narratives, told in more quiet times, that we have condensed
it for the reader.
No. They had other affairs in hand.
Inez had been diligently at work preparing her costume for
the day, before Antoine had summoned her to breakfast.
Chloe had been as diligently at work in the laundry, while
breakfast went on.
While Harrod made his toilet, —
a matter of no little diffi-
culty, — Inez made hers.
At last he came down-stairs, shaven and shorn, washed and
brushed, elegantly dressed, with a ruffled shirt, an embroid-
ered waistcoat, and a blue coat ; dressed, in short, in the
costume of civilized Europe or America, as he had not been
dressed for two years.
He went through the and from room to room of the
hall,

large parlors down-stairs, but saw Inez nowhere. In the

front parlor was a little sister of charity, who seemed absorbed
in a book of devotions. Harrod touched his hat, and asked
if he could see Miss Perry j to which the sister, without so
348 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

much as raising her modest eyes to the handsome Kentuck-

ian, only replied, " Pas encore."
Harrod struck the bell which stood and sum-
in the hall,
moned Antoine. The respectful servant wondered
if he had

left the garden gate open, but did not distress himself. Har-
rod bade him call his mistress. Antoine thought she was in
the parlor, but, as he looked in, saw no one but the sister of
charity. She asked him also if he would summon his mis-
tress. Antoine said he did not know where she was, but he
would try.
The minute he was well out of the hall, the sister of charity
hopped up, and executed a pirouette, to Harrod's amazement,
clapped her hands, and ran across the room to him. " So,
sir, I knew you after two years' parting, and you did not know

me after an hour's That shows who understands masquer-

!

ading best."
" Whowould know you, with that ridiculous handkerchief
tied round your mouth and nose, and those devout eyes cast
down on your prayer-book ? At the least, you cannot say my
disguise covered me."
" Indeed," said Inez, laughing, " that was its weakest
side."
And she proceeded to explain her plans for the day. She
was going to the prison to see old Ransom. Her father was
out of the question. But an interview with Ransom could
be gained, she thought ; for she believed, as it proved rightly,
that no such calendar of sisters was kept at the prison gate,
that the warders would know of a certain new-comer, wheth-
er she were or were not en rlgle. Of her own costume Inez
had no doubt whatever.
And so they parted, — Inez for this duty, Harrod to see
the American consul, Mr. Pollock, Mr. Bingaman, and the
other Americans, and to determine what should be done in
this rudest violation yet of the rights of the American resi-

dents in Orleans.
At the Palace of Justice — if it may be so called — Inez
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 349

had even less difficulty than she had apprehended. The place
was not strictly a prison. That is, the upper stories were
used for the various purposes of business of the fussy admin-
istration of the little colony ; and, below, a dozen large cells
and a certain central hall had been by long usage set apart
as places of confinement, barred and bolted, for prisoners
awaiting trial, and for anybody else, indeed, who, for what-
ever reason, was not to be sent to the prison proper.
To the sentinel on duty at the door, Inez simply said,
" You have a sick man here."
" Two, my lady. Will my lady tell me the name of the
"
sinner she seeks ?
" If there be two," said Inez, speaking in Spanish, with
which the French sentinel was not so familiar, " I will see
them both " and, acknowledging
; his courtesy as he passed,
she entered into the general prison, where nine or ten poor
dogs sat, lay, or paced uneasily. Among them she instantly
saw Ransom, sitting handcuffed on a chest.
He did not recognize her, and she affected not to see him
but she passed close to him, and said quite aloud in English,
" Ransom, take care that you are very sick when I come
to-morrow." Then she passed on into the side cell, which
had been opened at her direction. The particular Juan or
Manuel who was lying there had not expected her but he ;

was none the worse for the guava-jelly she left him, nor that
she sponged his hands and face from the contents of the
generous canteen she bore. She read to him a few simple
prayers, visited the other invalid in the same fashion, and
was gone.
The next day, however, Inez had three patients. She had
soon disposed of those whom she saw the day before, and
tlien found herself, as she had intended, alone with Ransom,
who lay on the shelf in his cell with a few leaves and stems
of the sugar-cane under him.
Ransom explained, that on the ,day he was missed, having
been lured away, just as he left the brig, into a narrow street
350 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

where none "but them Greasers " lived, —

as he was talking
with the man who had summoned him, he was caught from
behind, his arms pinioned behind him, he tripped up, steel
cuffs locked upon his feet, and in this guise was carried by
four men into a neighboring baraca. As soon as night fell,
his captors brought him to the Government House. They
had since had him under examination there three times.
They had questioned him about Nolan and Harrod, about
Mr. Perry and Roland, about Lonsdale and the "Firefly,"
and about Gen. Bowles. They had asked about the message
sent up the river by Mr. Perry the previous spring. But
specially they had questioned him about the Lodge of Free-
Masons, to find whether Mr. Perry, Mr. Roland, or Mr.
Lonsdale belonged to it; and about what Ransom knew,
and what he did not know, of the movements of one Sopper,
an American, whom the authorities suspected of raising a
plot among the slaves.
Now, the was that Ransom knew Sopper very well.
truth
He probably knew Ransom better than he did any other
person in Orleans, where the man was, indeed, a stranger.
" They'd seen me with him. Miss Inez. He's a poor
critter ; hain't got no friends, any way, 'n I wanted to keep
him out o' mischief. He's one of them Ipswich Soppers, —
no, he ain't he came from Sacarap,
: — they was a poor set
but they did zwel as they knew how. They'd seen me with
him, so I knew they was no use of lyin' about it, 'n I told
'em I knew him, cos I did."
" Ransom, there is never any use of lying," said poor Inez,

doing something to keep up her character.

But it was clear that" Ransom's examination had been of
that sort which did nobody any good, and him least good of
all. Inez could see, as he detailed it, that he had made the
authorities suspect him more than ever ; and, from the tenor
of the last examination, she saw that the authorities thought
that he was an accomplice in the negro plot, regarding which
they were most sensitive.
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 351

" Tain't no account, mum, any way, now Mr. Perry knows
I'm here : he'll go to the guvner, and the guvner '11 have to
let me out. Didn't have no way to send ye word, or I'd 'a'

sent before."
Then Inez told him that her father had been seized also.
The poor old man started from his bed, and could hardly
be kept from rushing to the rescue.
In one instant he saw the position j and in the same
instant his whole countenance changed, and his easy courage
fell.

Often as he had thwarted Silas Perry, and often as he had

disobeyed him, in his heart he was a faithful vassal, and
nothing else. He would have " died with rapture if he saved
his king ; " but when that king was checkmated his truncheon
fell at once.
Inez went farther, and said her fear was that they would
both be sent to Cuba for trial.
" No, Miss Inez ef your father's in prison, they ain't no
:

more trial for me. Tried me three times a'ready, and I give
em a bit o' my mind each time. No. They's done with
me." And he sank into silence.
Inez broke it with a consolation she did not feel.

"Keep up good spirits, dear Ransom," she said. "We

are work for you. Mr. Harrod has come home, and he
all at

is at work, and Mr. Bingaman and the consul. Aunt Eunice

got home last night, and she will work for you. Mr. Lonsdale
will work. We shall never let you come to harm."
The old man sat silent for a moment more. Then he said
calmly, " No, mum, they's done with me. Bingaman's no
account, never was, unless he had Mr. Perry to tell him what
to do. Ain't none on 'em knows what to do, ef Mr. Perry
don't tell 'em. Capt. Harrod, he's a gentleman ; but they
don't none on 'em know him here. No, mum, they's done
with me." And he made another long pause. " They'll send
ye father to Cuby, and they'll hang me. They'll hang me
down by the arsenal, — jest where they hanged them French-
352 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS

men. It's just like 'em ; 'n I told 'em so, I did. Says I, 'you
hanged them Frenchmen, and you know you've been all
wrong' ever since ye did it,' says I. But they didn't hang 'em
theyselves they didn't dare to.
: Darned ef they could get a
white man in all Orleans to hang 'em. Cum to the Hing- '

ham Gal,' — she was lyin' here then, —

'n there was a poor

foolish critter in her, named Prime, 'n they offered him

twenty doubloons to hang 'em ; 'n he says, says he, 'I'm a
fool,' says he, and he was a fool, but I ain't so big a fool,'
'

says he, as you think I be,' says he 'n they had to get a
'
;

nigger to hang 'em, cos no white man would stand by 'em.

That's what they'll do with me," said poor old Ransom.
In speaking thus. Ransom was alluding to O'Reilly's
horrible vengeance upon the Creole gentlemen who had
engaged in a plot to throw off the Spanish rule more than
twenty years before.
" Ransom," said the girl, sobbing her heart out, " if they
hang you they will hang me too." Then she promised him
that she would return on Sunday, bade him be sure he was
sick in bed at noon, and with a faint heart found her way
home. '

She would have attempted more definite words of consola-

tion if she had had them to offer. But Harrod's report of
yesterday had not been encouraging. The consular clerk
bad been roused to some interest, but to no resource. The
embargo had been proclaimed. That had confirmed Inez's
news, and had awakened all the merchants. Harrod had
made him, the clerk, promise to call on the governor with
him at one o'clock. By way of preparing for that interview,
he made one or two visits among English and American
merchants, when suddenly, to his disgust, he found himself
evidently watched by a tall man of military aspect, though
not in uniform. Harrod was close by the Government House.
He determined, at least, to strike high and to die game.
He would not be jugged without one interview with the
governor in person.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 353

He entered the house, —

went by as many sentinels as he
could,by what is always a good rule, pretending to be quite
at home, giving a simple hasty salute to the sentries, and —
so came to the governor's door, as he had been directed.
Here he had to send in his card ; but he was immediately
admitted.
He explained that he had expected to be joined by the
American consul. His message, however, was important,
and he would not wait.
" And what is your honor's business ? " said the courtly
governor.
" It is to ask on what ground Mr. Silas Perry is held
in confinement, and to claim his release as an American
citizen."
" Don Silas Perry in confinement " !
said the governor
with a start of surprise, which was not at all acted. He was
surprised that this Mr. Harrod should have come at his
secret. Where is he in confinement ? "
"
" No one knows better than your excellency," said Harrod,
who noted his advantage :
" he is imprisoned under this roof.
Your excellency can show me to his apartments, unless
your excellency wishes me to take your excellency there."
This was a word too much, and probably did not help
Master William. It gave his excellency time to rally, and to
ask himself who this brown, well-dressed man of action and
of affairs might be.
" You have sent me your card," said he " you have not :

explained to me who has honored me by introducing you, nor

do I understand that you represent the American consul. I
think, indeed, that the American consul is not in the city,
that he is at the Balize."
" Your excellency does not wish to stand upon punctilio,"
said Harrod. " The consul's clerk will be here in five min-

utes. The American consul will be here to-night. It is in

Ijie name of the Americans of the city that I speak."

The governor looked his contempt. "His Majesty the

354 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

King of Spain has given these gentlemen permission to

reside here to attend to an unfortunate commerce, all but

contraband, which will end in a few months at latest; but

his Majesty has never been informed, till this moment,
that these gentlemen expected him to consult them in the
administration of justice." he were weary of the
Then, as if

interview, he turned to a servant who gave him a card, and,

as if to dismiss Harrod, said, " Show this gentleman in."
To Harrod's dismay, the military man entered, who had
tracked him in the street.
He thought that his game was up, and that he was to be
put into the room next to Mr. Perry's. But he had no dispo-
sition to surrender a moment before his time came. With-
out noticing hint or stranger, he said, —
" If your excellency despises the Americans here, you may
have more regard for the Americans at home. Your excel-
lency has the name of a friend of peace. Your minister at
home is called the Prince of Peace. Your excellency has
simply to consider, that, if Mr. Silas Perry and Mr. Seth Ran-
som are not free to-morrow night, a courier will carry that
news Tennessee River in ten days, to Kentucky in five
to the
more. Let it once be known that two American citizens
have been sent to Cuba, and ten thousand riflemen from
Kentucky and Tennessee will muster at their ports to avenge
them. The boats are there, as your excellency knows ; the
river is rising, as your excellency knows. Whether the
'
Prince of Peace will thank you for what your excellency
'

brings down hither upon the river, your excellency knows

also." And William Harrod rose. " I see your excellency
is engaged. I will find the vice-consul, and will return with
him."
" Stay a moment," said the military gentleman, " stay a
moment, sir. Do I understand that Mr. Perry is in confine-
ment ?
" He is under lock and bar in this house, sir," said Har-
rod fiercely.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 355

" And for what crime ? " said the stranger.

" For no crime under the heavens of God," said Harrod,
now very angry, "for no crime, as you would say if you
knew him. You must ask his excellency on what accusa-
tion."
" I will take the liberty to ask his excellency that ques-
tion," said the other. "Mr. Perry is my near friend," he
added, turning to the governor ; " he is the near friend of
the King of England, to whom he has rendered distinguished
services. I know your excellency too well to think, that, at
this critical juncture, your excellency would willingly thwart
the government I represent, by the arrest of a person whose
services, Ihad almost said, we require."
The picturewas a striking one, as these two fine young
men stood, the one on each side of the governor, who was
himself to the last degree annoyed, that by his own blunder
he had lost the one great advantage in Spanish statecraft, the
advantage of dealing with each alone.
" My dear Mr. Lonsdale," he said, giving to the English
diplomatist his hand, " if you will do me the favor to dine
with me, I can explain perhaps what you do not understand.
If our young friend here, the ambassador from Kentucky,
will meanwhile study the Constitution of the United States,
he will understand perhaps that I cannot treat with envoys
from separate States. —
Good-morning, sir " this sharply to
:

Harrod. " If you will take an early lunch with us, it is wait-
ing now " this courteously to Lonsdale.
:

" I am greatly obliged," said Lonsdale coolly. " I have

business with this gentleman. do myself the honor of
I will
calling again." And, with hauteur quite equal to what might
be expected from the Duke of Clarence, he withdrew.
3S6 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS:

CHAPTER XXXVII.
FACE TO FACE.

" A brave heart bids the midnight shine like day,

Friendship dares all things, when love shows the way."
Andromaque.

As they left Government House, Harrod hastily ex-

the
plained to Lonsdale who he was, and told what he himself
knew of the passages of these dark days, and why he knew
so little. Lonsdale explained who he was, that he had but —
just landed from his own galliot, in which he had brought
Miss Perry, and the old lady whom Miss Perry had gone to
Natchez to find. But they had left Natchez before any bad
news, even of Ransom's disappearance, had arrived there;
and the first intelligence Mr. Lonsdale had had of either
calamity was in the words he had heard William Harrod use
at the governor's.
He had parted from Miss Perry only at the landing, having
promised to join her again at her own house within an hour.
He was therefore sure that up till her arrival at home she
had had no intimation of the wretched news.
Harrod was quick enough to observe that in his language
there was a certain air of authority, as if he had a right to
protect Miss Perry, and to be consulted intimately in her
affairs. For this, Harrod had not been prepared by Inez's
hurried narrative. Inez had spoken of Mr. Lonsdale as the
English gentleman whose escort they had received in coming
from Texas ; but she had scarcely alluded to .him again.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 357

The two went hastily to Mr. Perry's house, filling up, as

each best could, the immense gaps in the information which
each had, as to these matters in which each had personal
reasons for intense interest. Let them do their best, however,
there were large chasms unfilled. For what reason was Mr.
Perry arrested ? For what, poor Ransom ? What new niotive
could they now bring to bear ? And should William Harrod
not make good his threat of sending a courier through Gen.
Bowles's country into Tennessee and Kentucky ?

Inez was away on her first visit to the prison when the
young men arrived. They found Eunice in all the agony of
surprise, anger, and doubt, having received, from the very
incompetent lips of Antoine and Chloe, such broken account
as they could give of the little which Miss Inez had chosen
to intrust to them. Eunice was writing to the consul as they
entered. By her side was the lovely white-haired Mother
Ann, who had come so gladly with Eunice, certain that she
should find her lost grandchild, and who now found herself
in the midst of another tragedy so strange. The beautiful
old lady had not learned the lessons of sixty years in vain.
Her face had the lovely saint-like expression of the true
saint, who had never shirked life in a convent, but who had
its rough-and-tumble, and had come off conqueror
taken it in
and more than conqueror.
"Never mind me, dear Eunice," she said, in her half-
Quaker way " let us do what we may for thy brother first,
:

and for this brave old fellow who loves my dear girl so.
What is a few hours to me, now I am so safe, so sure, and so
. happy?"
Upon their rapid consultations Inez came in, still in the
sister's [Link] flung herself into Eunice's arms, and
sobbed out her grief. A common cause gave frankness and
cordiality to her welcome of Lonsdale such as she had never
honored him with before. Then came rapid conferences,
and eager mutual information. Inez could tell, and Harrod
could tell, to this group, what had not been revealed to
3S8 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Antoine and to Chloe of Ma-ry's information. Harrod and

Lonsdale had to tell of the governor's coldness, and the
dead-lock they were at there. But both of them agreed that
they must go at once to the American consulate to report ;,„

and Lonsdale said, very simply, that he could and would

bring in the intercession of Mr. Hutchings, the English
all

consul. Such an outrage made a common cause.

" And we and this dear, dear, dear lady, will go, —
we can
go on foot, dear aunt, —
and liberate my darling from the con-
vent." This was Inez's exclamation, and then she stopped.
" But what a blessing that she was not liberated before
Where should we be now, but for the White Hawk ?
Then they all turned to Harrod and to Lonsdale, to make
sure that they should not want her at the convent still. But
it was agreed, that they now had, in all probability, all the

information that Ma-ry could give. The chances were vastly

against their gaining more.
" I must have the dear child here," said Eunice promptly.
" Thank God you say that
!
" said Inez.
And, so soon as she could transform herself into Miss
Inez Perry, they were all three on their way.
It was not the regulation day for seeing visitors ; there had
been no chance to consult the pope or the vicar-general
and St. Ursula had not provided in her last will for any such
exigency. But Eunice was so forceful in her quietness, and
dear " Mother Ann " was so eager in her quietness, for she
did not say one word, that even Sister Barbara gave way
and Inez was obliged to own to herself, that even she could
not have improved on the method of the negotiation. Sister
Barbara disappeared. She was not gone long. She came
back with the White Hawk, to whom she had said nothing of
her visitors.

The moment the pretty creature entered the room, the

quiet, lovelygrandmother sprang across like a girl, and flung
her arms around her, and kissed her again and again. " My
dear, dear, dear child " This was all she could say. The
!
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 359

girl's likeness to her murdered mother was enough for the

other mother who had brooded over her loss so long.
And Ma-ry, dear child, kissed her, and soothed her, and
stroked her beautiful white hair, and said little loving words
to her, now as a child might do, just learning to speak, now
as a woman of long experience might do. How much these
two would have to tell each other, and to learn from each
other ! And the first meeting was all that the eager heart of
either could demand.
" Dear, dear, dear grandmamma," for the child had been
teaching herself this word in anticipation. "Was she not
"
very lovely ?
" My darling, she was very lovely. You are her image,
my child. I knew you were named Mary. My sister was
named Mary, and you are named for her. I have here," and
she pointed to her heart, " your dear, dear mother's last
letter. She says she had named you Mary,' and she says
'

you were the only baby in the settlement, and the pet of
them all. And I was to come and help take care of you
when you were a baby ; and now at last I have come."
Sister Barbara was as much affected as the others. She
agreed with Miss Eunice, that it was not probable that
Ma-ry's studies would flourish much under the stimulus of
this new element in her life. And it was also so improbable
that any similar case had transpired in the eleven thousand
experiences of the eleven thousand virgins, that their memoirs
were not even consulted for a precedent; and failing the
vicar-general and the pope, as above. Sister Barbara con-
sented that the White Hawk should go home with the visit-
ors, and stay till next week. Alas, for Sister Barbara
" to-morrow never comes," and " next week " never came for
this return to study.
Ma-ry, meanwhile, signalled to Inez, to ask whether she
might not be needed on the house-top the next morning.
Things might be mentioned in the house which needed to be
published there. But Inez re-assured the loyal girl j and in
360 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

five minutes more her little packet was ready, and she kissed
SisterBarbara " good-by," forever, — as it proved.
" But tlie little dog, ma'm'selle, — the little dog. He will

be wretched without you, and you will be wretched without

him."
With the gravity of a bishop,and with a penitent's con-
science smiting her, Ma-ry explained that she had not seen
the little dog since yesterday. And Inez hastened to add
that he was safe at home. And so, with some jest on the
dog's preferring the fare at one house to that of the other,
they parted. And thus, to use the common phrase which
Miss Edgeworth so properly condemns. Miss Ma-ry's " educa-
tion was finished,"
They met the gentlemen at dinner. Antoine and Felix
were tolerated as long as might be ; and, for so long time, the
talk was of Harrod's experience, of Lonsdale's trials, of Mrs.
Willson's wanderings, and of Ma-ry's recollections. But, as
soon as these two worthies could be dismissed, serious con-
sultations began again.
The two consuls had had as little success as the unofficial
gentlemen had had. Indeed, they had anticipated no suc-
cess. Arbitrary as the Spanish rule always was, it had till
lately been sensible and mild until Salcedo, to whom, rightly
or not, Harrod ascribed the change of policy which had
swept even De Nava away, and whom Harrod made respon-
sible for Nolan's murder. Under Salcedo, the rule had been
abrupt, tyrannical, and inexplicable.
" You would think," said Lonsdale, " that the approaching
cession to the French prefect would make the Spaniards
more tolerant and gentle. But, on the other hand, they seem
to want to cling to power to the last, and to show that Laus-
sat is nobody. Laussat is a fool, so our consul thinks, —a
fussy, pretentious fool. He came here as prefect, with great
notions, with great talk of the army behind him ; and he has
not yet so much as a corporal's guard for his ceremonies.
The Spaniards make fun of him ; and even the Frenchmen
cannot make much else of him.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 361

" Yes he were not here, we should fare better. From

; if

this double-headed government, it is hard to know what we

may look for. One thing is fortunate," he added dryly: "we

have three or four frigates and their tenders, within a day of
the Balize. I have bidden Hutchings send down word that
they are to be off the Pass till they have other orders."
Eunice only looked her gratitude ; but she certainly
blushed crimson. Inez was forced to say, " How good you
are " ! But this time she was frightened. Even she did not
dare to say, " Who are you ?
But who was he? Who was this man who said to the
English fleet, " Sail here," or " Sail there," and it obeyed him ?
And why did Aunt Eunice blush? What had they been
doing and saying at Natchez, and in this six-days' voyage
down the river ? Was Aunt Eunice to be Duchess of Clar-
ence, after all ?

The truth was, that Mr. Lonsdale and Aunt Eunice had
come at each other very thoroughly. First, their correspond-
ence had helped to this ; for nothing teaches two people who
have been much together, how much they rest on each other,
as an occasional separation, with its eager yearning for mes-
sages or Horace Lonsdale needed no teaching on
letters.

this matter. Eunice was perhaps surprised when she found

how lonely a summer was, in which she did not see him as
often as once a week. After this parting, had come the
renewed intimacy at Natchez ; and, from the first, they found
themselves on a personal footing different from that of the
spring. She had found him the loyal and chivalrous English
gentleman which, indeed, he had shown himself from the first
moment that she had known him. He had found her always
the same unselfish woman she was then and there. It had
been hard for him to come at her, to give to her the whole
certainty ofhis enthusiastic admiration ; because Eunice
Perry was quite out of the fashion of asking herself what
people thought of her, or, indeed, of believing that they
thought of her at all. If the truth were told, Horace Lons-
362 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

dale had not been used, in other circles, to meet women as

entirely indifferent to his social position as was Eunice
Perry. He might, indeed, have travelled far, before he
found a woman so indifferent to her own accomplishments, so
unconscious of remarkable beauty, and so willing to use each
and every gift in the service of other people, as she.
To pay court to this unconscious vestal, was no easy
matter. So Horace Lonsdale thought. Words or attentions
which many a pretty countrywoman of his would have wel-
comed with delight, in the false and unbalanced social habits
of London in those days, passed by Eunice Perry as if he
did not exist, had never spoken the word, or offered the
attention. 'He found very soon, that, if he meant to render
her service, it must be by serving those she loved ; and he
counted himself fortunate, and fortunate he was, that the
chaotic condition of the times in which they moved gave
him, once and again, the opportunity to do so.
The absurd stories as to who and what he was had, of
course, their share of foundation. He was a 'younger son of
the distinguished family whose name he bore, and had been
placed in the English Foreign Office, when yet young, for
education and for promotion. Choosing to use the opportu-
nities of his position, in a time when every day furnished the
material for a romance, instead of flirting at Almack's or
riding in Hyde Park, he had been intrusted with one and
another confidential duty, in which he had distinguished him-
self. As the new century opened, the plots of Miranda in
Cuba and on the Spanish Main, the insurrection in St. Do-
mingo, and the certainty of a change in Louisiana, made it
necessary for his chiefs to seek more accurate information
than they had, as to the condition of the Spanish colonies.
Such a man as Lonsdale would not shrink from an appoint-
ment which gave him almost carte blanche in travelling in
unknown
those regions, then almost to Europe. His social
standing, his rank in the diplomatic service, and the commis-
sion he was intrusted with, gave him the best introductions
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 363

everywhere. And, when the ladies of our party met him at

Antonio, he was in good faith pursuing the inquiries regard-
ing the power of Spain which had been confided to him.
The absurd story that he was the Duke of Clarence had
grown up in some joke in a London club ; but it had found
its way to one and another English ship on the West India

station, and from these vessels had diffused itself, as poor

jokes will, in the society of almost every place where Lons-
dale made any stay. In truth, it was very absurd. He was
five years younger than the duke, was taller and handsomer.
But he had. light hair worn without powder, a fresh healthy
complexion, so that, as Inez afterward told him when she
condescended to take him into favor, he looked so handsome
and so much as one wanted a king's son to look, that every-
body took it for granted that he was one. However that
might be, the rumor was sometimes a very great convenience
to Horace Lonsdale, and sometimes such a bore and nuisance
as to arouse all his rage. He said himself, that, whatever
else it did, it always doubled the charges on his tavern bills.

Lonsdale had not let the favorable opportunity pass, which

his visit to Natchez, and the escort he gave Eunice Perry to
New Orleans, afforded him. He told her, like a gentleman,
that her love and life were inestimably precious to him ; that
the parting for asummer had taught him that they never
could be parted again. And Eunice, who for fifteen years
had let the admiration of a hundred men drift by her unob-
served and unrequited ; who had quietly put fifty men on
their guard that they should come no closer, and had sent
fiftyaway sadly who would not take her hint, and pressed
too near, —
Eunice told him the truth. She told him that once
and again, in the anxieties of that summer, she had caught
herself wishing for his sympathy and counsel, nay, if the —
truth must be told, for a cheery tone of his, or a cheery look
. of his, before she had wished even for her brother's help, or
for Inez's love and, when she said this to Horace Lonsdale,
;

Horace Lonsdale was made perfectly happy.

364 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

But all this narrative, so uninteresting to the young reader

of seventeen, who
seeks in these pages only the history of
her country, does but interrupt the story of the fate of Silas
Perry and Seth Ransom.
The formal interview with the Spanish governor, and with
Laussat the French prefect, took place the next morning
after Lonsdale and Miss Perry came down the river. Only
these two officers with their secretaries, and the fussy young
Salcedo in a very brilliant uniform, were present to repre-
sent the French and Spanish Governments : to represent the
insulted merchants, only the English and American consuls,
with Mr. Lonsdale and William Harrod, were admitted.
And, oh the horrors of the red-tape of a Spanish inquiry
Ransom had not exaggerated when he said they copied what
he said four times for the king to read. And what with
soothing Laussat's ruffled dignity by interpreting into French,
and meeting Castilian punctilio by talking Spanish, while
every person present spoke English and understood it, tlie
ordinary fuss was made more fussy, and the ordinary misery
more miserable. ^
But no promise, either of a trial or of a release, could be
extorted. Laussat, the Frenchman, talked endlessly; but
he had, and knew he had, no power, —
strictly speaking, he

had no business there. The same might be said of young

Salcedo, who talked, however, more than any one but his
father, and to no purpose. He had come, as was his wont,
without being asked. The governor had summoned Laussat,
only as a later man in power used to invoke Mr. Jorkins
when he wanted to avoid responsibility. The governor him-
self said little,and explained nothing. The consuls made
their protests, made their threats, which were written down
" for the king to read ; " but the governor declared he was
under orders. Count Cornel, Minister of the Colonies at
Madrid, had written thus and so and who was a poor local
;

governor to stand one instant before Count Cornel ?

After this had been said six times, and the protest had
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 365

been five times renewed, Lonsdale rose, and said grave-

ly,-
" Then we must leave your excellency. The transaction
appears to me much more serious than your excellency thinks
it. Your excellency claims the right to send British subjects
secretly to Cuba for trial. We resist that right I say resist,
:

where my colleague said protest. I ought to inform your

excellency, that I sent directions this morning to his Britan-
nic Majesty's naval officer in command below That
the Pass.
officer will search every vessel coming down and
the river,
will rescue any British subject he finds on board, though that
subject be on a ship-of-war of the King of Spain."
There was a moment's silence. Gov. Salcedo himself did
not maintain the haughty look of indifference which he had
pretended. He looked Lonsdale steadily and anxiously in
the eye. Laussat pretended not to hear what was said. The
secretaries prepared four copies for the king.
" And will the American squadron look for American citi-

zens ? " said the governor at last, with a sneer.

" I think there are no American vessels of war there,"
replied Lonsdale quietly. " If they were, Mr. Clark would
communicate with them, I suppose."
"
And how does your order, Mr. Lonsdale, affect the per-
sons whom you say are our prisoners ; for whom, observe, I
"
disclaim all responsibility ?
" Your excellency cannot mistake me. Silas Perry and
Beth Ransom are both subjects of George the Third."
"The American consul has claimed them as American citi-

zens," said the governor in excitement. "And you must

pardon me, Mr. Lonsdale : your ignorance is that of a stran-
ger ; their nationality is perfectly known here. No person so
important in the American interest, always excepting the .

honorable consul, as Mr. Silas Perry ; unless, indeed, Seiior

Ransom's claim is superior to his, as he certainly supposes it

to be."
" I speak of facts," replied Lonsdale, —" facts everjrwhere
366 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

known. These men were born British subjects. It is true

that the State of Massachusetts, in which they were born, is

no longer a part of the British empire but these men, born

;

under the flag of England, were not residents of Massachu-

setts when that change took place. They have never forfeited
their allegiance to the King of England, nor his protection.
They are under the English flag to-day."
Everybody was amazed at this bold position so suddenly
assumed by this calm man. For a moment there was silence.
Then the governor said, —
" It is too late to-day ; but, if the men can be found in this
jurisdiction, we will learn from them to what nation they
belong."
" And when shall we have this privilege," asked Mr. Lons-
dale boldly, " of seeing the prisoners, who, as I had under-
stood, were not known by your excellency to be impris-
oned ?
" To-morrow is Sunday," said the governor with equal

coolness. "I understand that it will be disagreeable to

Englishmen and Americans to attend to business then. Shall
we say Tuesday ? "
" No day better than Sunday for an act of the simplest jus-

tice," said Lonsdale.

The governor had committed himself ; and it was agreed
that aftermass the same party should meet again.
And then the English and American gentlemen were bowed
out of the room and the four clerks completed their four
;

memoirs for the king.

 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 367

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

WHAT NEXT?
" To-morrow is behind." — Dryden.
That night was an eventful night in the little American
"colony." Daniel Clark's magnificent mansion, the consu-
late and its dependent offices, Davis's rope-walk on Canal
Street, and, indeed, every vessel in the stream, had its great
or little consultation of outraged and indignant men. It was
not the first time in which the handful of Americans in Or-
leans had had to consult together as to their mutual protec-
tion. We have still extant the little notes which Daniel
Clark from time to time sent up to Gen. Wilkinson, who com-
manded the American army, and whose quarters were as near
as Fort Adams in Mississippi, arranging for the co-operation
of the Americans within and the Americans without when
the time should come. And
the army was not unwilling to
make the dash down the river. It was -held in the leash not
too easily. Constant Freeman and other tried officers knew
to a pound the weight of those honeycombed guns on the
Spanish works ; they longed to try a sharp, prompt escalade
against those rotten palisades ; and there was not a man of
them but was sure that the handful of Franco-Spanish troops
would give way in half an hour before that resolute rush,
when it should be made. Whether, indeed, the gates wfere
not first opened by the two hundred insulted and determined
Americans within, would be a question.
It was all a question of time, for the two or three years of
368 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

which this story has been telling. The Americans within the
city were always believing that the time had come. Gen.
Wilkinson was always patting them on the back, and bidding
them keep all ready, but to wait a little longer. Recent reve-
lations in the archives of Spain have made that certain which
was then only suspected, that this man was at the same time
in the regular pay of the King of Spain and of tine Government
of the United States. There is therefore reason to doubt
how far his advice in this matter was sincere. But, as the
end has proved fortunate, a good-natured people forgets the
treason.
They would abide the decision of the governor and the
prefect, tobe rendered the next day. If then the prisoners
were not surrendered, why, that meant war. After the coun-
sels of this night, the Americans were determined. A mes-
senger should be sent up the river in a canoe ; and, lest the
water-guard arrested him, Will Harrod should go up by land
through the Creek country. Harrod did not decline the
commission, though he preferred to remain within, where, as
he believed, would be the post of danger. So soon as the
consultation was ended, he hurried to Mr. Perry's house to
tell the ladies such chances as the meeting gave. But he
was too late for them that evening.
It was in the loveliness of early morning the next day,
with every rose at its sweetest, every mocking-bird vieing
with its fellow, every magnolia loading the air with its rich
perfume, that the brave fellow came running down into the
garden, and found Inez there. He told her hastily what was
determined, and that the wishes of these gentlemen, which
he must regard as commands, compelled him to leave her
and her aunt, just at tlie time, of all times, when he wanted
to be nearest to them.
" Dear Inez," he said boldly, " you know that I would not
move from your side but in tlae wish to serve you. ^ou
know that I have no thought, no wish, no prayer in life, but
that I may serve you. You do not know, that, for two years
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 369

and more, I have thought of you first, of you last, of you

always ; that there is no wish of my heart, nay, no thought of
my life, but is yours, —
wholly yours. I should die if I were
to part from you without saying this ; and I wish, my dear
Inez, that you would let me say a thousand times more."
He had never called her Inez, of course, without that
fatal " Miss ; " far less, of course, had he ever called her
"dear."
But the gallant fellow had resolved, that come what might,
and let Inez say what she may, he would call her "dear Inez"
once, if he died for it. No^ he had made a chance to do so
twice before he let her answer. And so he waited bravely
for her reply.
Poor Inez !

She looked up at him, and she tried to smile, and the

smile would not come. Only her great eyes brimmed full of
tears, which would not run over. She looked down, she
turned pale she knew she did, and he saw she did. Still he
;

waited, and still she tried to speak. She stopped in their

walk, she turned resolutely toward him ;and now she was so
pale, that he grew pale as she looked up at him. And she
gave him her hand slowly.
" I will speak," she said, almost gasping, that she might do
so, — "I will speak. Will Harrod, dear Will Harrod," a
smile at last, or an effort at a smile in all her seriousness,
" I love you better than my life."
And then she could hardly stand; but there was little

need. Will Harrod's arras were round her, and there was
littledanger that she should fall. And then they walked up
one avenue, and down another, and they talked back through
one year, and forward through another, and tried to recall
yes, and did recall —
every single ride upon the prairie in
those happy days, — what
he said above the Blanco River,
and what she said that day by the San Marcos Spring ; and
if he ought to have thought that that cluster of grapes meant

any thing, and if she remembered the wreath of the creeper \

370 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

and all the thousand nothings of old happy times, when they
dreamed so little of what was before them. For one happy
quarter-hour now, they even forgot the dangers and miseries
of to-day.
Yes and when they came back to them, as back they
;

must come, oh, how much more endurable they were, and
how much more certain was she and was he, that all would
come out well If he must go to Natchez, why, he must
!

but no parting now could be so terrible as that other part-

ing,when they did not know.
They went in to join the party at breakfast. Harrod was
ready to kiss Inez twenty times in presence of them all.

But Inez was far more proper and diplomatic. Still, as she
passed her aunt, she stooped and kissed her, and said in a
whisper, —
" Darling auntie, you have not told me your secret, but
you are welcome to mine."
And, happier than any queen, she went through the pretty
ministries of the table j and Ma-ry knew, by intuition, that
every thing was well.

Was every thing well ? That, alas ! must be decided at

the formal hearing of the forenoon, when the prisoners were
to be brought forward, " if they could be found within this
jurisdiction."
It proved, as might be expected, that they "could be
last, the governor and his son and
found," althpugh, to the
the intendant had
and the prefect had intimated, that
said,

they would not acknowledge that they knew any thing about
either of them.
" It is all like Pontius Pilate, and Herod, and Annas the
high priest," said Asaph Huling. "Shifting and shirking,
!
and only agreeing in lying
So soon as the consuls and Mr. Lonsdale and Harrod had
appeared, and made their compliments, the governor's son
nodded, and a sort of orderly disappeared. In a moment
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 371

Ransom moment more, Silas Perry on the

entered, and, in a
other side. Ransom's beard had grown, and his clothes were
soiled j evidently none of the elegances of hospitality had
_

been wasted upon him ; but he was fully master of the posi-
tion he came in as if he were directing the policemen who
;

brought him ; he bowed civilly to Mr. Ruling, to Mr. Hutch-

ings, to Mr. Harrod, and to Mr. Lonsdale ; but, as for the
prefect and the governor, they might as well have been
statues in the decoration. He took a seat, and the seat
which was intended, by a sort of divine instinct, and sat, as
if he were the lord high chancellor, before whom all these

people had been summoned.

Silas Perry was neatly dressed, and had not, in fact, been
left to suffer personal indignity or inconvenience but he :

was pale and nervous; he seemed to Lonsdale ten years

older than when he saw him last. Harrod had never seen
him before ; but Mr. Perry's delight at seeing Ransom re-as-
sured him. "Are you here, my dear Ransom," said he,
"and what for? I thought they had thrown you into the
river."
The secretaries hastily wrote down for the king's informa-
tion the fourfold statement that Don Silas had supposed,
that the major-domo Ransom had been thrown into the river.
" Donno, sir," replied Ransom in a lower tone. " Had
me up three times, cos they wanted to hear the truth told
a kind of surprise, you know. Donno what they
'eip, for

want now."
" Then you are a prisoner too, Ransom ? "
"Guess I be. Darbies knocked off, jest afore I come
upstairs."
And Ransom looked curiously at both windows, as one
who should inquire how easy it might be to break these two
governors' heads together by one sudden blow, and, with
one leap, emancipate himself from custody; but he ha(J no
serious thought of abandoning thecompany he was in.
The governor tapped impatiently ^ an4 4 kincj of major?
372 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

domo with a black gown on, who had not been present the
day before,came and told Ransom to be silent. Mr. Perry
told him the same thing, and he obeyed.
"We have no necessity for any formal investigations,"
said the governor, in a courtly conversational manner, which
he was proud of. " I had almost said we are all friends.
Many of us are. I hope Don Silas recognizes me as one.
But all purposes will be best answered if Don Silas will
mention to these gentlemen his name, his age, and his
nationality."
Lonsdale shuddered. If the Yankee should say, "Silas
Perry, age sixty-two, an American citizen," he would be out
of court. But Mr. Perry answered firmly, —
" I should like to know where I am. If this is a court, I
demand to know what I am tried for."
" Indeed this is no court, my dear friend," said the courtly
governor: "we have met, at the request of these gentlemen,
for a little friendly conversation."
" Then I hope these gentlemen and your excellency will
converse," said Mr. Perry bitterly. " I have always found I

profited more by listening than by talking."

" You do yourself injustice, Don Silas. We had a ques-
tion here yesterday which only you, it seems, can answer.
These gentlemen, in fact, asked for your presence, that we
might obtain satisfaction."
" If I am to obtain any," saic^ Perry undaunted, " I must
know whether I am a prisoner here to be badgered, or a
freeman permitted to go at large, As ^ freeman, I will ren-
der any help to. these gentlemen or to your excellency, as I
always have done loyally, as your excellency has more than
once acknowledged to me. As a prisoner, I say nothing, —
no, not even under a Spanish examination."
This with a sneer, which the governor perfectly compre-
hended.
" You ask," said he, " precisely the question which you are
here to answer ; or, rather, tjie answer may be said to depend
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 373

upon your answer to my friend here. The American consul

here is claiming your person as an American citizen. The
British consul intervenes, and, as I understand the matter,
claims you as a subject of George the Third. It is impos-
sible for us here even to consider their claims, till we know
in what light you hold yourself."
"la subject of George the Third " cried Perry incredu-
!

lously. "I did not think George the Third himself was
crazy enough to say that; and I believe his Majesty has
heard my name."
moment, he caught Lonsdale's eager and im-
But, at the
ploring eye. Lonsdale waved in his hand a card ; and Silas
Perry was conscious, for the first moment, that he also held
one. Ransom had slipped it into his hand, as he rose to
address the governor ; but till now he had not looked at it.
He paused now, and read what was written on it. *

" I have claimed you as a British subject. The English fleet is off the
Pass, and will take you off ifyou admit the claim. Ransom too. The
governor is afraid. Take our protection, —
Lonsdale."

Silas Perry read the card, nodded good-humoredly to

Lonsdale j and while the governor, amazed at the manifest
deceit which had been practised, hesitated what to say, Mr.
Perry himself took the word.
" I can relieve your excellency of any question. I am a
citizen of the United States. I was born in Squam, in
Massachusetts, in the year 1741. When I was twenty-one
years of age I removed to the Havana. With every penny
of my purse and every throb of my heart, I assisted in that
happy revolution which separated those colonies from the
British crown. And lest, by any misfortune, my children
should be regarded subjects, either of George the Third or
of Charles the Third, on my first visit to England after the
peace, at the American embassy, I renounced all allegiance
to the King of England, and obtained the certificate of my
374 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

American nationality from that man who has since been the
honored President of my country. So much for me.
" With regard to this good fellow, I presume the consul is

technically right. Seth Ransom was born a subject of

George the Third. He did not reside in the United States
when the treaty of peace was made j nor has he resided there
since. He is undoubtedly, at law, a subject of the King of
England."
So saying, Silas Perry sat down. The four secretaries
provided four transcripts for the gratification of tlieir king.
" How is this ? " said the governor himself, turning to
Ransom. " Have you understood what the gentleman has
said ?

Seth Ransom had been contemplating the ceiling, still in

the character of the Lord Chancellor.
" Understood all I wanted to," said he. " Perhaps you
didn't understand, cos he spoke English. Ef you like, I'll
put it in Spanish for you."
it happened, the etiquettes of yesterday had not
For, as
been observed. The parties had begun with English with :

English they went on. But Ransom, for his own purposes,
now changed the language.
" You can ask me what you please," said he. " But, if you
have not sent the king the other things I told you, you
might read them over ; for I shall tell you the same thing
now."
The governor turned up the record of Ransom's first
examination. He then said, with a sneer, —
" This reads :
'
Seth Ransom, being questioned, states that
he is a citizen of Massachusetts, one of the United States of
America.' But I understand Don Silas, that this is a mis-
take, and that we are to say that you are a subject of King
George the Third."
" You can say what you like," said Ransom fiercely, in a
line of Castilian wholly his own, which was, however, quite
intelligible to the governor, and the four secretaries who toiled
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 375

after. " You know as well as I know that whatever you say
will be a lie, and, if you say that, it will be the biggest lie of
all."

Ransom spoke hastily, and in his most lordly air of defi-

ance, but not so hastily but they could all follow him ; and
the secretaries noted his language in such short-hand as they
could command.
Mr. Hutchings, the English consul, availed himself here of
the pretence that they were conversing as friends in the
governor's office, and that none of the forms of court were
observed.
" Ransom," said he, " all that we want to prove is, that

you never appeared before a magistrate, and made oath of

your citizenship. Of course we all know where you were
born."
Ransom listened superciliously, with one eye still turned to
the heavens.
"You don't want me to be lying too, Mr. Hutchings.
Them eyedolaters do, cos it's their way. But you don't."
And he paused, as if for reflection and for recollection.
Lonsdale took courage from the pause to say, —
" Of course, the king's officers have no claim on you ; but
we are all friends now, and all the king's officers want is a
right to befriend you."
A bland smile crept over Ransom's face.
"Much obliged," said he: "they's befriended me afore
now."
Then, as if this " solemn mockery " had gone far enough,
he turned to the governor, and said, again in Spanish, —
" I will tell you all about it. When the war began. Gen.
Washington wanted powder, —
he wanted it badly ; and he
said to old Mugford that he'd better go down the bay, and
catch some English store-ships for him. And I volunteered
under Mugford, and went down with him. And we took the
powder, and drove those fellows out of Boston."
The Castilian language furnished Ransom with some very
376 PHIUP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

happy epithets — as terms

of reproach, not to say contumely
— with which speak of the English navy and army.
to
The secretaries, amazed, wrote down this ridicule of a
king.
"After Mugford was killed, I went out again, first with —
Hopkins, and then with Manly. And, the first time, I went
to Hopkins's shipping-office, down at Newport ; and I swore
on the Bible that I'd never have any thing more to do with
George the Third, nor any of that crew, poor miserable —
sons of dogs as they were ; and, when I went with Manly,
I shipped at old Bill Coram's office, and he had a Bible
too, and I swore the same thing again."
Of all which the secretares made quadruplicate narrative.
" That time his fellows caught us," continued Ransom,
pointing over his shoulder at Lonsdale. were under "We
the Bermudas, waiting for the Jamaica fleet
and there came ;

a fog, and the wind fell and, when the fog rose, I'll be
;

damned if we were not under the guns of a seventy-four, —

the Charlotte ; and they boarded us, and carried every
'
'

man to England. And that's the only time I ever ate his
bread," — pointing again to Lonsdale, — "black stuff, and
nasty it was too. That was at Plymouth.
" I lived there a year. And once every month a miserable
creature in a red coat — one of his fellows — came and asked
us to take service in the king's navy. And there was some
dirty Spanish and Portuguese, and niggers [this in English],
— lying dogs, all of them, — that did. But all the Americans
told him to go to hell, and I suppose he went there, because
I have never seen him since.
And at last there was an exchange, exchanged a thou-
" —
sand of us against a thousand of his fellows we had. Poor
bargain he made too And that time they took me over to
!

France ; and they made me captain of the squad, because I

could speak their lingo, —
the same as I speak yours, because
you do not know any better. And there we saw the man
,that told the King of France what he'd better do, — same
 OR, ''SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 377

man that fixed the lightning-rod on Boston Light, King

George did not know how. King fixed it wrong, — did every
thing wrong."
The secretaries, amazed, entered these statements on
King George's knowledge of electricity.
" White-haired old man he was, — long-haired man, — sort
of a Quaker ; and he came and asked all that were Ameri-
cans to come to his place, and take the oath. So I took it

there, — that's three times. And he gave me my certificate,

— 'purtection' they — turning thecall it," to. secretaries to
give them the word English, — "'and when any
in men of his
— the mean — see
king's, I why, they take a fellow
that, can't
out of any ship at all. And there it is : if you think your
king would like to know what it says, I'll read it to you. I
always keep it by me ; and these fellows of yours, when they
stole every thing else I had the day you sent them after me,
they didn't find it, because I did not choose to have -them.
You'd better tell that to the king. Tell him they are all fools,
and good for nothing."
By this time Ransom was worked into a terrible passion.
He still commanded himself enough, however, to hold the
precious paper out, and to read in English, —
"KNOW ALL MEN,
By these presents, that Seth Ransom, of Tatnuck, Worcester County, in
the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, one of the United States of
America, hatli this day appeared before me, and renounced all allegiance
to all kings and powers, save to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,
and, in especial, all allegiance to King George the Third, his heirs and
successors.
" And the said Seth Ransom hath hereby given to him THE PRO-
TECTION of the United States of America in all and every of his
legal enterprises by sea or by land, of which these presents are the cer-
tificate.
" Signed,
"Benjamin Franklin,
" Minister of the United States.
" Witness,
"William Temple Franklin,
"Passy, near Paris, June i6, 1781."
378 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Ransom knew the paper by heart. He read it as an orator,

— with some break-down on the hang words.
This short address produced no little sensation. Two
secretaries crossed to take the paper to copy it. Ransom
stepped forward to give it to them, stumbled and fell as he
did so. When he rose, he apologized, —
affected to have
given it to one of the men ; they were in turn almost per-
suaded each that the other had it Between the three, the
paper could be nowhere found ; and Ransom cursed them
with volumes of rage because they had stolen it so soon.
" Have you any further inquiries to make, Mr. Hutchings ?
or have you, Mr. Lonsdale ? " asked the governor, address-
ing the English gentlemen with his courtly sneer.
Before they could reply. Ransom rose again, and waved
his hand. Like Lockhart before the Red Comyn, he seemed
resolved to "make sicker."
" Beg your pardon," said he in English :
" I forgot to say
that I know you want hang me ; I knew that the first day
to
you shut me up there. Ef you think anybody's forgotten
how t'other one —
the Paddy governor —
hung them French
gentlemen, it's because you think we's all fools. None on
'em's forgot it O'Reilly, the other one, died screamin' and
howlin' in his bed, because he see the Frenchmen all round
his room pointin' at him. You know that as well as I do.
Now you'd better hang me. After you've hanged me, you
can think up a pack of lies, and send 'em to the king to tell
him what you hanged me for."
And then the old man sat down with a benignant smile.
His happy allusion was to that most horrible judicial murder
committed in the last century, of which he had spoken to
Inez. For generations the memory of that horror did not
die out in the colony. It was the very last subject which
Salcedp would willingly hear alluded to ; and this old Ran-
som knew perfectly well : for that reason he chose it for his
last words.
After a ghastly pause, Salcedo said again, with some diffi-

culty, —
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 379

" Have you any further inquiries to make, gentlemen ?

" I have only to protest, in all form," said the plucky

English consul, " against a transaction which strikes at the

root of all commerce among nations. I shall report the
whole business to the Foreign Office, and I know that it will
meet the severe censure of the king."
The governor bowed. He turned to Mr. Huling :
—
" Have you any remarks to offer ?
" I make the same protest which my clerk made yesterday."
And he read it, as it had been put on paper. He added, —
" I assure your excellency, in that friendship to which your
excellency referred just now, that no act could be so fatal to
friendly relations for the future. Let me read to your excel-
lency from the debate in the Senate of the United States of
the 23d of February last. I received the report only last
evening. The Secretary of State instructs me to lay it before
your excellency ; and I am to say that the Administration
has the utmost difficulty in restraining the anger and ardor
of the country. If your excellency will note the words used
in debate, they mean simply war. It is to fan the flames of
such anger that your excellency orders our friends sent to
;
Cuba " and he read from the warlike speeches of
for trial
White and Breckenridge.
The governor listened with courtly indifference. When
Mr. Huling had done, and handed the papers to a secretary,
the governor said contemptuously to that officer :
—
"You need not trouble yourself. His Majesty has read
that debate three weeks ago : at least I have ; I have no
doubt he has."
Laussat, the French prefect, bowed, and took the papers.
He read them with an interest which belied the contempt
affected by the other.
All parties sat silent, however., The evident determination
of the governor to yield no point made it difficult to re-open
the discussion.
William Harrod was the first to speak. With no training
38o PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

for diplomacy, and no love for it, he rose abruptly, and took
his hat.
" understand your excellency to declare war against the
I

United States in that case, I have no place here."

:

"You understand what you choose, young man," said

will
the governor severely. " I have never understood why you
appeared here at all ; and I do not even now know why I do
not arrest you for contempt of His Most Catholic Majesty."
" Let me ask," said Lonsdale, " if your excellency will not
consent to some delay in the measures you propose toward
our friends, —
a communication home, or with the city of
Washington ?
" I have already said, Seiior Lonsdale, that the ofl&cers of
the King of Spain do not call councils of foreign powers to
assist them in their administration of justice."
Lonsdale bowed, did not speak again, but took his hat also,
very angry. At this moment, however, to the undisguised
surprise even of the oldest diplomatists in the group, their
number was enlarged, as a footman ushered into the room
Roland Perry. He was well known to all there, excepting
the French prefect Laussat and Harrod. He was dressed
from head to foot in leather, and the leather was very muddy.
His face was rough with a beard which had seen no razor for
a fortnight, and was burned brown by a fortnight's sun and
air. He held in his hand the sombrero which he had just
removed, and a heavy riding-whip. He crossed the room
unaffectedly to the governor, and gave him his hand.
" Your excellency must excuse my costume, but I am told
thatmy despatches require haste."
He turned to his father :
—
" My dear father, I am so glad to see you you must have !

been anxious about my disappearance," and he kissed him.

He shook hands cordially with the consuls and with Lons-
dale. He offered his hand to Harrod :
—
" It is Mr. Harrod, I am sure."
He bowed to all the secretaries, and to Salcedo's son.
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 381

He shook hands cordially with Ransom. Then, turning to

the governor with the same air of confident command, as if
really everybody had been waiting for him, and nothing could
be done until he came :
—
" Will you do me the honor to present me to the prefect —
M. Laussat, I believe ?
The governor, chafing a little at this freedom, did as he
was asked, reserving some other momelSt the rebuke he
for
was about to give tothis impudent young gentleman.
Laussat hardly understood the situation. But he had
learned already that the etiquettes of America were past
finding out.
" I had the honor of meeting your excellency at the house
of Citizen La Place," said Roland ; " but I cannot expect
that your excellency would remember such a youngster. I
hope your excellency left the Baroness of Valcour in good
health, and your excellency's distinguished father."
Laussat also postponed the snubbing he was about to
administer, not certain but he was snubbed himself already.
Roland, with the same infinite coolness, turned to the
governor, who was trying to collect himself. Roland opened
a large haversack, very muddy, which had hung till now from
his shoulder.
" This despatch, your excellency, is from Senor Yrujo, the
Spanish minister at Washington. him only a fortnight
I left
Thursday. His excellency bids me assure your excellency
of hismost distinguished consideration. And this despatch,
Citizen Laussat,is from the French minister. I am charged
with his compliments to you."
This use of the word " citizen," which was already out of
vogue, w^as necessary to Roland's consummate air of superi-
ority over the .braggart Frenchman.
" And now, gentlemen, as I see these despatches are long,
will you excuse my father, and my old friend Ransom here,
to both of whom I have much to say Your excellency does
.•

not know that it is nearly a year since we have met."

382 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

This outrage was more than the "moribund old man"

could stand.
"You are quite too fast, Mr. Perry. I know very well
when you went up the river to foment war in Kentucky. I
know very well that you failed, and went to Washington on
the same errand. I know that these despatches will tell me
of your further failure. If you wish to converse with your
father, it will be in this palace, where I will provide accom-
modations for both of you."
" Your excellency is very kind," said the young man with
infinitegood-humor. " When your excellency and Citizen
Laussat have read these papers, you will perhaps think it
better to accept my father's hospitality than to offer him
yours."
Then, as if such badinage had gone far enough, he turned
with quite another air to Laussat :
—
" M. Laussat," he said, with an air of an equal, " this
diplomacy has gone far enough. New Orleans and Louisi-
ana are in fact, at this very moment, a part of the United
States. The First Consul has sold them to the President for
a large and sufficient compensation. Nothing remains but
the formal act of cession."
" Impossible !
" cried Laussat, starting from his seat.
" My despatches say nothing of it."
" I know not what they say," said the young man, " and I

do not care. Perhaps you will do me the favor to look at

mine."
"He took from his pocket a billet, which, as he showed to
the prefect, was written at Malmaison, with the stamp of the
First Consul's cabinet on the corner. It was in the hand-
writing of Mme. Bonaparte, —a playful note thanEing Ro-
land for the roses he had sent her. The young man turned
the first page back, and pointed to a postscript on the last
page, in the cramped writing, not so well known then as now,
of Napoleon Bonaparte.
The words were these :
—
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 383

My dear Son, — We speak of you often, and we wish you were in

France. Say honored father, who knows how to keep a secret,
to your
that I have sold Louisiana to Mr. Monroe. He well knows my friend-
ship to America let this prove it to him again. He will use this note
:

with discretion. Health,

25 Germinal. Year XI. Buonaparte.

The prefect read them, and read them again. " Ldche,
he
imbedle, trattre I " said, between his teeth, as he gave back
the note to Roland.
" Your excellency may be curious to see the First Consul's
autograph,'' said Roland ; and he handed the little billet to
the governor in turn. The governor read it, aj Roland stood
by ; but, as he was about to give it to the secretaries, Roland
put it in his pocket.
" Your excellency will pardon me. It is my note — and a
note from a lady.
" And now," he said, in that quiet tone of command which
became him so which he had inherited from his father,
well,
" as among friends, we must confess that this kind announce-
ment from the First Consul puts a new arrangement on all our
little affairs in this room. Your excellency will perhaps per-
mit my father to dine at home ; and I think Ransom will find
us some good sherry in which to drink prosperity to France
and to Spain."
But the " moribund old man " sat with his head upon his
breast, pondering. This was the end, then, of Phil Nolan's
murder ; this was the end of Elguezebal's watchfulness ;
this the end of interdicts and protests, and all the endless
restrictions of these weary years. God be with Mexico and
Spain
He said nothing.
Roland turned to Laussat :
" Will your excellency not use
your influence with the governor ? " he said.

Laussat looked the fool he was, but said nothing.

The English and American gentlemen rose. "I am to
report, then, to Lord Hawksbury," said Lonsdale, " that the
384 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Spanish Government is indifferent to the friendship of Eng-

land." He took his hat again, as to withdraw.
" I am to write to Mme. Bonaparte," said Roland Perry,
" that M. Laussat says the First Consul is a coward, an imbe-
cile, and a traitor. Gentlemen, we seem to have our
answers."
The poor old governor raised his head. " I shall be glad

of a little conference with his excellency the prefect, our

friend M. Laussat. Will you gentlemen await us in the next
salon ?

They waited fifteen minutes. At the end of fifteen minutes

Mr. Perry and ^Ransom joined them. There was a civil mes-
sage of excuse from the governor, but he did not appear
nor was Laussat visible through the day.
And so they left the governor's house in triumph. Roland
Perry could hardly come close enough to his father. He
assured himself that he was well, and then his first questions
were for news from Texas. Had Cassar been set free ?'

Had any of Phil Nolan's party returned ?

No ; but Barelo had good hopes. The trials ^ were proceed-
1 A regular trial was given them, of which the proceedings are extant. Don
Pedro Ramos de Verea conducted the defence {will not some Texan -name a
county for him? ), and the men were acquitted. The judge, De Vavaro, ordered
their release, Jan. 23, 1S04 but Salcedo, alas was then in command of these
; I

provinces he countermanded the degree of acquittal, and sent the papers to the
;

king. The king, by a decree of Feb. 23, 1807, ordered that one out of five of
Nolan's men should be hung, and the others kept at hard labor for ten years. Let
it be observed that this is the royal decree for ten men who had been acquitted by
the court which tried them.
When the decree arrived in Chihuahua, one of the ten prisoners, Pierce, was
dead. The new judge pronounced that only one of the remaining nine should
suffer death, and Salcedo approved this decision.
On the gth of November, therefore, 1807, the adjutant-inspector, with Da
Verea, the prisoner's counsel, proceeded to the barracks, where they were confined,
and read the king's decision. A dnun, a glass tumbler, and two dice were brought;
the prisoners knelt before the drum, and were blindfolded.
Ephraim Blackburn, the oldest prisoner, took the fatal glass and dice, and
threw 3 and i ^4
Lucian Garcia threw 3 and 4 ^7
Joseph Reed threw 6 and 5 =11
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 385

ing with infinite slowness ; but Barelo and all men of sense

hoped still that Spanish honor would be vindicated, and these

men, who had certainly enlisted in faith in De Nava's pass,
would be set free, —
a hope, alas not to be verified.
1

David Fero threw 5 and 3 =8

Solomon Cooley threw 6 and 5 =11
Jonah [Tony] Walters threw 6 and i =7
Charles King threw 4 and 3 =7
Ellis Bean threw 4 and i =5
William Dowlin threw 4 and 2 ^6
Poor Blackburn, having thrown the lowest number, was hanged on the nth o£
November.
Ellis Bean afterward distingmshed himself in the revolt ag^nst Spain, which
freed Mexico.
Cssar had got detached from the party, and was seen by Pike, high up on the
Rio Grande.
Of the end of the life of the other prisoners, no account has been found.
We owe these particulars to the very careful researches in Monterey, of Mr. J.
A. Quintero, who has taken the most careful interest in the fame of Philip Nolan.
People who are fond of poetical justice will be glad to know that Salcedo was
killed in the first effort for Texan liberty in 1813. But so, alas was Herrara.
I
386 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS i

CHAPTER XXXIX,
A FAMILY DINNER.

" Thus for the boy their eager prayers they joined,
Which fate refused, and mingled with the wind."
Iliad.

As the little procession passed along the streets, there was

almost an ovation offered to Mr. Perry and to Ransom.
From every warehouse and counting-room some one ran out
to felicitate them. Indeed, the merchants of every nation
had felt that here was a common cause ; and Silas Perry was
so universally respected that his release was a common
victory. Roland walked on one side of his father, and Lons-
dale on the other, while Harrod renewed his old acquaint-
ance with Ransom. Ransom confessed to him, that of all

the strange events of the day his appearance had surprised

him most. For, if there were any thing regarding which
Ransom had expressed himself with confidence for two years
past, it was the certainty that William Harrod had been
scalped, burned at the stake, and indeed eaten.
It was necessary to respect the open secret of the First
Consul's postscript so far that to no person could the result
of Mr. Monroe's negotiation be distinctly told. It had, of
course, been hoped for and suspected already. In fact, what
with delays in the draft of the treaty, and delays in transmis-
till some time
sion, the definitive intelligence did not arrive
later. was convenient for the governor, for his stafi, and
It
for Laussat and his, to speak slightly of the intelligence.
But this was of no account to those who knew the truth j and,
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 387

as it happened, to all others the " law's delay " involved no

consequences of evil.

Roland hastily told his story to his father. ' His inquiries
regarding Ma-ry, and the communications he had to make to
the governors of Kentucky, of Tennessee, and of the North-
west, had taken him far up the River Ohio, and late into the
spring. —
He had determined wisely as it proved not to —
return with Lonsdale, who had in the meanwhile crossed to
Fort Niagara and to Montreal, and then had descended the
Mississippi. Roland had preferred to go to Washington, to
make full statement there to Mr. Jefferson and his father's
old correspondents of the excited condition of Orleans,
knowing that he could return by sea with more certainty than
by land and the river.
At Washington he had heard the celebrated war debate of
February. Mr. Jefferson had not received him into any close
confidence that was not Mr. Jefferson's way. But he had
:

told him of his hopes that Orleans might be bought for the
United States ; and Mr. Madison had bidden him encourage
the merchants to hold out a little longer. At the French
legation he was treated more cordially. They gave him a
welcome which the State Department of that day did not
know how to give, and late one night the French minister
sent to him, and asked him if he would take his despatches
to Laussat when he returned.
" As it happened," said Roland, " I had within the hour
received this note from Mme. Bonaparte. Old Turner had
brought it to me, riding express from Baltimore almost as I

have ridden from Tybee. A fortunate curiosity had led

Turner to carry the rose-bushes to Malmaison himself. He
was still when he was summoned by a
looking at the garden
who he was, and had confided
lackey to the house, was asked
to him Mme. Bonaparte's billet. She came into the hall,
and gave it to him with her own hand, with a sweet smile.
Something in what she said made Turner think the note was
more than a compliment. Any way, he had seen enough of
388 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

Paris, he said. The 'Lady Martha' was ready for sea at

Bordeaux j and, having his letter, he took post-horses, and .

rode night and day till he came there.

" And then, sir, they made the Lady Martha ' spin. '

Wood and iron never crossed that ocean so quickly before.

He ran into Baltimore in twenty days, heard from Pollock
.

that I was at Washington, and came across with this scrap of

paper."
Roland felt the importance of the message thus intrusted
to him, so soon as he had read it. To no human being in
Washington did he dare intrust it ; and he could not make
out, in the few minutes he had for trying, whether the French
minister had received any corresponding intelligence. He
sent at once to the Spanish legation, to offer to carry their
despatches to the governor of Louisiana. Then he crossed
to Baltimore,where the " Lady Martha " had been unloading
some oil and wine ; and, without a minute's loss of time, she
loosed from the pier, and went down the bay.
" With a spanking breeze we ran," said the young fellow.
" By the time we were off Hatteras it was a gale. But old
Turner never flinched. Give him his due. The next night
it was a north-easter, —
blew like all the furies! How -she
walked off Turner said she might run so till I said the
!

word. I never said it. Dark it was, dark as Egypt ; wet, —

cold, even snow in that gale'. But Turner did not stop
her, and I did not stop her."
" I suppose the light-house at San Augustine stopped her,"
said his father, laughing.
" No, sir ; but the breakers off Tybee Sound stopped her
and there^ I am sorry to say, is the Lady Martha,' or what
'

is left of her, this day."

" She could not have run her last in a better cause," said
his father warmly.
" That's what I said to Turner. We got ashore, sir, all
safe. landed with this bag, and with no dry rag on me. I
I
told an officer we found there, that I had government de-
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS:' 389

spatches. He mounted me on the best horse in Georgia.

That beast took me, to whom do you think ? to Aunt Eu- —
nice's old admirer, Gen. Bowles ; and Gen. Bowles has sent
me through since, as if I had been a post-rider of the First
Consul's. If Aunt Eunice is not kind to the general now,
she is graceless indeed."
Lonsdale could, this time, take the joking for what it was
worth. They were now at the house. The news was in the
air, and all the ladies flew to the gate to welcome them.
What a Sunday
it was, to be sure How much to be told
!

publicly,how much to be told privately, how much to be

explained and how many questions to be asked, how many
!

mysteries to be solved Fortunately there was very little to

!

be done. Roland had come dashing up to the house with

the best stride of one of Gen. Bowles's chargers, at a very un-
Sunday like pace.
" Lucky for you, you were not in Squam," said his father.
" All the" tithing-men in Essex County would have been after
you."
" Better after me than before me, my dear father. I am
not sure whether Essex County would have overhauled
all

that bright bay whom Zeno is stuffing with corn in the stable
now."
He had flung the rein to Antoine, and rushed into the
house to hear the amazing tale of the women, as to his
father's arrest and Ransom's.
"I was hardly dressed for diplomacy," said he j "but I
thought the sooner I contributed my stock of news, the
better."
" Certainly," said Lonsdale :
" you were none too soon.

We had all played up our last pawns, and the governor was
implacable."
" Casa Calvo will be angry enough," said Mr. Perry,
" when he knows how like an ass Salcedo has behaved. But
his visit here just now seems to be simply one of ceremony."
Before dinner was announced, Will Harrod succeeded in
390 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

luring Mr. Perry away into the room which was called his
oiBce,and laying before him, with a young man's eagerness,
such claim as he had for Inez's hand. A blundering busi-
ness he made of it, but her father helped him.
" My dear boy," said he, " this is hardly matter for argu-
ment. do not think my girl would have taken a fancy to
I
you, had you not been a Christian gentleman. More than
"that, my boy I fancy you have found favor in her eyes
:

because you are one of Philip Nolan's friends. For me, I

have always supposed that some man would want to take a
girl so lovely to his heart —
well, as I took her mother ; and,
if you will only love this child as I loved her, why, I can ask

nothing more."
Harrod's eyes were running over. He could only repeat
the certainty, which he said two y^ars of constancy had given
him a right to proclaim, that Inez would be dearer to him
than his life.

Eunice was never known before to apologize for a dinner

and never in after-life did she so apologize.
" But, Roland, we were so wretched this morning If we !

had only known you were coming, why, we would have killed
for you any beast fat enough on the place."
" And why did you not know, dear auntie ? Why had you
not signal-officers in the Creek country to telegraph my com-
ing ? Is the general so tardy in his attentions ? Why, I
had but to ask, and the finest horses his lieges ever stole
were at my command."
Much fun there was, because people were supposing, all
through the dinner, that those had met who had never met,
and that everybody understood every thing.
" One question, Mr. Lonsdale, you will permit me to ask,"
said Harrod " I have puzzled myself over it not a little.
:

To what good fortune do I owe it that you followed me into

the governor's den on Thursday ? To tell you the truth, I
had seen you in the street, and had thought you were some
intendant or other who meant to arrest me. I had been
dodging all sort of catchpolls for three days of disguise."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 391

" You were not far from right," said Lonsdale quizzically.

Everybody laughed, and looked inquiry.

" What do you mean ? " said the blunt Kentuckian, taking

the laugh good-naturedly. "For really that was a great

stroke of luckj but for you, I believe we should all three be
in the Gulf, or near it, at this hour."
Lonsdale laughed again ; and then, in a mock whisper
across the table, he said, —
" I met a man best frock-coat and
in the street with my
waistcoat on, and I followed him
where he was going. to see
He went to the governor's house, and I went too."
One scream of laughter welcomed the announcement, and
Harrod and Inez laughed loudest of any.
" Woe is me !
" she cried. " Woe is me ! I am the sinner,
as I always am." And she laughed herself into a paroxysm
again. " Oh, Mr. Lonsdale, if you could have seen him that

morning ! I turned him into Roland's room, and bade him

fix himself up ; and he has opened the large wardrobe, and
helped himself to the clothes Roland bade you leave there."
And the girl screamed with delight at the transformation.
" And very nice clothes they are," said Harrod, joining in
the fun. " And, when Mr. Lonsdale visits me in Kentucky, I
will replace them with the handsomest hunting-suit in the
valley.
"How was I to know.' There were some thread-paper
things there, which I see now would fit our diplomatic friend
here; but, for a broad-shouldered hunter like me, give me
Mr. Lonsdale's coat and waistcoat. Indeed, Mr. Roland,"
he said, " I shall patronize the English tailors. Your French
snips do not give cloth enough."
"We can make common cause,' said Lonsdale. "The
coat and waistcoat you so well that I will double my orders
fit

when I send to London ; and, as you say, you can bid the
Frankfort snips duplicate yours when you send there. We
will play the two Dromios."
The little speech was wholly unconscious. So far had
392 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS ;

Lonsdale looked into the future in these two or three days, so

happy to him, though so anxious to all, that he quite forgot
that the others had not accompanied him in those fore-looks,
not Eunice herself, from whom he thought he had no secret.
Quick as light, and pitiless as herself, Inez caught the
inference, and proclaimed it. She clapped her hands, while
Eunice first, and Lonsdale in sympathy, turned crimson.
" Bravo, bravissimo !" cried the light-hearted girl. "The
American citizen adopted in the new State of Louisiana
first

is hisRoyal Highness the Duke of Clarence. On the Aca-

dian coast he will establish his vineyard for the growth of
grapes and the manufacture of malmsey. From a throne on
the levee, he will rule Great Britain, Ireland, and France,
when his royal father at length throws off the uneasy crown.
Mistress Inez Perry will be appointed first lady of the robes.
But where, oh ! where, my dear Aunt Eunice, where shall we
find him a duchess ? How would Mile. Selina de Valois
do?"
" She will not do at all," cried Lonsdale ; his light heart,
and the sense of so many victories, conquering all reticence.
" The duchess is found ; the throne is in building ; the coro-
net is ready in the wardrobe upstairs, if the Prince of Ken-
tucky, Cavalier of the Red River, and Marshal of the Big
Raft, have not needed it for purposes of his diplomacy ; all
that the Duchess needs is her brother's good-will, and " —
" And what ? " cried Inez, laughing still.
" The presence of her niece as bridesmaid, when she gives
her hand to The Man I Hate.' "
'

And the taciturn and undemonstrative Mr. Lonsdale, to

Ma-ry's unspeakable delight, waved his fruit-knife as if he
would scalp Inez, and bear off her luxuriant tresses as a
trophy.
The frankness of this bit of by-play was more like tlie
style of Sir Charles Grandison's days than Eunice really
liked ; and Mr. Perry, to relieve her, said, —
"
Nobody has told me how you all knew where I was, or
where Ransom was."
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 393

Inez nodded to Ma-ry, and made a sign with her hand.

" May I ? " asked Ma-ry of her grandmother, who did not
at all understand, and gave assent from the mere joyous
habit of the day, by accident.
So Ma-ry sprung from her seat, ran across the room,
skipped upon a side-table, and there repeated the signals
which had told where Mr. Perry was shut up, and where they
should find Ransom.
Ransom, meanwhile, had honored the occasion as he hon-
ored few ceremonies in life. He appeared in a handsome
black coat and breeches, with a white necktie. Some foot-
man whom he had seen in Paris, in some livery of mourning,
may have suggested the costume. Eunice might have given
a state ball to a travelling emperor, and Ransom would not
have assumed this dress except to please himself. When he
did assume it, all parties knew that he was entirely satisfied
with the position. He filled Roland's glass with some of the
favorite claret.
" Here's ye father's own claret, Mr. Roland ; found the bin
this morning."
Then Roland knew that all was sunny.
" As the governor did not honor us, we need not order up
the sherry. Indeed, I am not sure that Ransom could have
found it," said Mr. Perry, looking good-naturedly at the dear
old fellow.
Perhaps Ma-ry's welcome to Roland had been the prettiest
of all. Although Mrs. Willson had felt at ease with Lons-
dale and Eunice, Roland seemed to her the oldest friend of
all. Itwas he who had wrought out the whole inquiry ; it
was he who had traced her from village to village, from State
to Territory, and through him that Eunice had found her, and
that she had found her darling. And now that she saw the
sun-browned young fellow the hero of the day ; now that he
was constantly coming back to dear Ma-ry's side, to ask her
this and to tell her that, and to praise her for the central ser-
vice which she had rendered to them all, —
the old lady felt
394 PHILIP NOLAN'S FRIENDS;

more at ease with him than with Mr. Perry, of whom she
was afraid ; with Mr. Lonsdale, whom she never half under-
stood ; nay, even more than with Mr. Harrod, the Ken-
tuckian.
And Ma-ry She had gained every thing in this year, the
!

young man thought, and she had lost nothing. She was a
woman now. Yes but she was a lovely girl as well. She
!

could give him both her hands ; she could look up as frankly,
as ever in his face she could talk to him of the thousand new
;

experiences of the year ; and yet, in all the simplicity of her

bearing, there was never one word or gesture but the finest
lady at a ball at Malmaison might have been glad to use.
And Ma-ry was not afraid to tell him how well he looked,
and how glad she was that he had come. A long, jolly,
home-like dinner : they loitered at the table, almost till twi-

light came. Then Eunice said, —

" Will it not be pleasanter on the gallery ? I will order
coffee there."
But Roland retained them.
" Let me tell you all," he said, " what I was telling Mr.

Harrod. At Fort Washington whom should I meet but a

fine little fellow, Inez, a good mate for you some day, who
fascinated me at the very first. He had just come over from
Frankfort, and had on his nice new uniform, his bright shoul-
der-knots, and his new sword. He was a little bit homesick
withal. remembered how homesick such a boy feels.
Well, I
I asked them to introduce me j and they introduced to me
Ensign Philip Nolan."
"
Everybody started. " Philip Nolan !

" Yes, he is the cousin of our dear Phil. Did not I want
to hug him ? him more of our Philip than he knew.
I did tell

I told him of poor Fanny Lintot, and the little baby cousin
there."
"One day we will tell him," said Silas Perry solemnly,
" how much the country owes to his cousin's .cruel martyr-
dom. If our brave friend Phil Nolan had not gone to
 OR, "SHOW YOUR PASSPORTS." 395

Texas, these rascals would never have got their terror of the
Valley men. It was he who taught them how near was Ken-
tucky to Potosi. The moment they learned that, they lost
their heads.
" From Phil Nolan came Salcedo's madness.
" From their frightened despatches home, came the easy
gift of all this country to France.
" From Salcedo's madness comes the uprising of the West-
ern hunters, and the first real recognition of the West by the
Congress of America.
" Good fellow ! in all his wildness, Philip Nolan never was
afraid.
" He has done more for his country than he meant.
" In all his rashness, he has served her so that she can
never pay her debt to him.
" Listen to me, Inez I shall not live to see this, but you
:

and your children will.

" What Casa Calvo calls Nolan's mad act has given Louisi-
ana to your country it will give her Texas.
:

" When the tug comes, you will find that every Spaniard
dreads the prowess of Philip Nolan's race, and that every
Kentuckian remembers the treachery of Philip Nolan's mur-
der.
" Poor fellow how often I have heard him say that he
1

did not know what country he served, or what army gave him
his commission.
" This cousin, his namesake, is more fortunate. Ransom,
fill the glasses. We
will drink this young ensign's health.
" To Ensign Philip Nolan, ladies and gentlemen. May
the young man never know what it is to be

"A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY!"

 A NEW BOOK BY DR. HOLLAND.

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 RUSSIA IN TH E EAST.

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