not kill your uncle!”
“Then say no more,” she interrupted joyfully. “First of all, you must go with me now to the house. And tell me everything about Henry.”
Alvarez Torres was sitting on the broad piazza of the Solano Hacienda[35]. What he saw was Leoncia and Francis. Torres did not believe his eyes: Francis took a ring, and Leoncia extended her left hand and received the ring upon her third ringer.
So Henry’s ring came back on Leoncia’s hand. But Leoncia was not very glad to receive the ring.
Torres twisted his mustache fiercely, and advanced to meet.
“You, a shameless murderer!”
Francis smiled.
“Another lunatic,” he said. “The last time, Leoncia, that I saw this gentleman was in New York. Now I meet him here and the first thing he tells me is that I am a shameless murderer.”
“Senor Torres, you must apologize,” she declared angrily. “We don’t insult guests here.”
“Senor Torres,” Francis said, “I know your mistake. You think I am Henry Morgan. I am Francis Morgan, and you and I, not long ago, transacted business together in Regan’s office in New York.”
Torres uttered apologies both to Francis and Leoncia.
“And now,” said Leoncia, “Senor Torres, we will tell you about Henry.”
Torres was very amazed and angry. A newcomer, a stranger put a ring on Leoncia’s engagement finger! Leoncia, whom to himself he always named the queen of his dreams, engaged herself to a strange Gringo from New York. It was unbelievable, monstrous!
After lunch, Francis wanted to bring to Henry the good news. So he resolutely declined her hospitality to remain for the night and meet Enrico Solano and his sons. Moreover, Francis could not endure the presence of Leoncia. She charmed him, drew him. So Francis departed with a letter to Henry from Leoncia in his pocket. Leoncia stared at the ring on her finger.
From the beach, Francis signaled the Angelique to send a boat ashore for him. But suddenly half a dozen horsemen rode down the beach upon him at a gallop. Two men led. The following four had guns. One of the leaders was Torres.
“Now, sirs, tell me, what do you want? My ears, or my mustache?”
“We want you,” answered the leader.
“And who are you?”
“He is the honorable Senor Mariano Vercara e Hijos[36], Jefe Politico of San Antonio,” Torres replied.
“Good night,” Francis laughed. “But I am only a passenger. You must talk to the Captain.”
“You are wanted[37] for the murder of Alfaro Solano,” was Torres’ answer. “You didn’t fool me, Henry Morgan. And you are the murderer. I know that some one else. His name is Francis Morgan, and he is not a murderer, but a gentleman.”
“Oh!” Francis exclaimed. “But you recognized me, Senor Torres!”
“I was fooled,” Torres admitted sadly. “But only for a moment. Will you come with us?”
“Yes,” Francis answered. “I suppose you’ll hang me at daybreak.”
“Justice is swift in Panama,” the Jefe Politico replied. “We will not hang you at daybreak. Ten o’clock in the morning is more comfortable, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I don’t care,” Francis retorted. “Eleven or twelve.”
“You will come with us, Senor,” Mariano Vercara e Hijos said. “Take his weapons.”
Francis found himself in a cell with walls five feet thick. It was half past eight in the evening. The trial began at eight. The execution was scheduled at ten next morning.
“The Jefe was right,” Francis acknowledged to himself. “Panama justice moves swiftly.”
The letter given him by Leoncia and addressed to Henry Morgan damned him. The rest was easy. Half a dozen witnesses identified him as the murderer. The Jefe Politico himself so testified. Torres was in love with Leoncia, and his jealousy knew no limits.
Leoncia was sobbing on his shoulder, in his arms: “It is a cursed country, a cursed country.”
Francis remembered Henry, in his canvas pants, bare-footed, under his sombrero.
“They just knew I was guilty and wanted to punish me. Why delay? They knew Henry Morgan had killed Alfaro. They knew I was Henry Morgan,” he said
She was in his arms, her lips raised to his; and his own lips to hers.
“I love you, I love you,” she whispered.
“No, no,” he said. “Henry and I are too alike. It is Henry you love, and I am not Henry.”
She drew Henry’s ring from her finger, and threw it on the floor. Francis slipped Henry’s ring back on her finger and kissed her hand. When she passed out the door she turned and whispered:
“I love you.”
At ten o’clock they brought Francis to the gallows. All San Antonio was present, including Leoncia, Enrico Solano, and his five tall sons. In vain Leoncia’s father and brothers protested that Francis was not the man. The Jefe Politico smiled.
They had tied Francis’ legs, and were tying his arms, when the voice of a singer was heard. Henry Morgan was entering. He pushed aside the guards at the gate.
The Jefe shrugged his shoulders and announced that he was ready to hang both men. But Francis, from the scaffold, shouted:
“You cannot hang a man without trial! He must have his trial!”
And when Francis had descended from the scaffold, the Comisario, with the Jefe, arrested Henry Morgan for the murder of Alfaro Solano.
Chapter IV
“We must work quickly,” Francis said to the Solanos.
“We must save him!” Leoncia cried out.
“All Gringos look alike to the Jefe,” Francis said. She was splendidly beautiful and wonderful, he thought. “We must get him out tonight.”
“Now listen,” Leoncia said. “We Solanos cannot permit this… this execution. Our pride… our honor. We cannot permit it. Father, suggest something.”
And while Enrico Solano and his sons talked plans and projects, a house servant came, whispered in Leoncia’s ear, and led her away.
Around the corner, Alvarez Torres greeted her, bowed low with a sombrero in hand.
“The trial is over, Leoncia,” he said softly. “Tomorrow at ten o’clock is the time. It is all very sad, most very sad. He was an honorable man. His one fault was his temper.”
“He
on the broad piazza of the Solano Hacienda – на широкой террасе перед асьендой Солано
Mariano Vercara e Hijos – Мариано Веркара-и-Ихос
you are wanted – вас разыскивают
