“So he was disappointed?”
“And persuaded, señor. The sally was already planned for this morning, but Lopez argued obstacles, and so got it postponed until to-morrow morning. He wanted to–to act on his–persuasion. And that is why,” Murguía got to his feet and limped around the table to Driscoll, “and that is why,” he ended in a croaking whisper, “why I am here!”
“And the red puppy, how near here did he come with you?”
Again Murguía darted at his questioner that uneasy glance of admiration.
“Lopez is waiting between the lines,” he replied. “As to our own lines, we passed them easily, since Lopez commands the reserve brigade and places the sentinels himself around La Cruz monastery.”
“Oh, does he?” Driscoll whistled softly. “But what’s your plan?” He put the question sympathetically, which disturbed Don Anastasio vastly more than the American’s peremptory tone in the beginning. “What’s your plan?” he asked again, gently coaxing.
430Murguía hesitated. This polite drawing-room interest was the most ironical of encouragement for villainy. Driscoll frowned impatiently, but at once he was smiling again. He placidly filled his corncob, and a moment later, his gaze piercing the tobacco smoke, he said, “Then I’ll tell you. You’re here to make a dicker, you and your tool between the lines. The monastery of La Cruz on top of the bluff is the citadel of Querétaro. Maximilian has his quarters there. The troops there are the reserve brigade. This puppy, this mongrel, commands the reserve brigade. He places the sentinels. And you are his orderly.–Oh, I haven’t forgotten how he let you off that time he condemned me!–So now you are his orderly, for your own reasons and his. And here you are, talking mysteriously about capturing Maximilian. But you don’t mean that, snake. You are here to sell him! Howsoever,” and smiling a little at the stilted phrasing, Driscoll paused and delicately rammed the tobacco tighter in the bowl, “howsoever, Murgie, you’ve come to the wrong market. No, there’s no demand for Maximilians just now, not in this booth. But why in blazes didn’t you go to Escobedo? With his Shylock beard, I reckon he’d take a flyer in human flesh.”
“I was going to him, but I came to you first, to take us there, to take Lopez and myself, I–I thought you would manage it all, because you–Your Mercy is the strongest, the most resourceful––”
“Resourceful enough, eh, to dodge the bullets you had fixed up for me once? Thanks, Murgie, but I liked your attentions then better than your slimy advances now. By the way, how are you going to get to Escobedo?”
The tone was honey itself.