“I am glad to say I was not,” returned Smythe. “But I was in Mexico a short time before that untoward event. You know, I suppose, that the scoundrel Juarez, after Maximilian’s death, had the body of his victim embalmed. In the holes made by the executioners’ bullets pieces of red velvet were placed, a pair of glass eyes were inserted in the orbits of the dead man, whose body was decked out with most costly garments, and then it was sent on to his relatives.”
“How very horrible!” exclaimed Aveline. “I never heard of anything more sickening.”
“Very horrible, I admit,” said the Colonel; “but such was the fact.”
“While I was in Mexico,” said Major Smithers Smythe, “facts came to my knowledge which, with your permission, I will relate.”
“Oh, by all means, we shall all of us be delighted. Pray proceed, major,” cried several.
“The little story I have to tell,” said Smythe, “I call a game for life or death. It is as follows”:—
“It was night in the camp of Maxmilian’s army, and sounds of merriment were heard upon all sides, for soldiers are ever wont to indulge in pleasure, regardless of what morrow would bring forth.
“In a tent in the inner circle of the camp sat two officers at a rude table, upon which was marked with lead pencil a chess, or checquer board, while black and white buttons served for the ‘men.’
“Around the tent were stationed guards, and both of the officers were unarmed, while not a weapon of any description was visible in their canvas room.
“They were prisoners: soldiers in the service of Juarez, captured the day before; but their appearance indicated that they were not Mexicans.