“COLONEL DUPIN”
“The Tiger of the Tropics ... the chief of Contra Guerrillas”
95They had not gone far when they passed Michel Ney swiftly returning. He was the protector Dupin had in mind. He had seen Jacqueline in the doorway of the hut as he stormed past with the Contra Guerrillas, but he had been too enthusiastic to stop just then. He was a Chasseur d’Afrique, and to be a Chasseur d’Afrique was to ride in a halo of mighty sabre sweeps. And Michel had fought Arabs too–but the good simplicity of his countenance was woefully ruffled as he turned back from that charge of the Cossacks.
“Michel!” cried Jacqueline, stepping over the forms of men before the hut, and forgetting them. The natty youth was torn, rumpled, grimy. The sky-blue of his uniform was gray with dust. But to see him at all proved that he had escaped Fra Diavolo’s web in Tampico. And the relief! It made her almost gay. “Ah, Michel–le beau sabreur!–and did you enjoy it, mon ami?”
He alighted at her feet, and raised her hand to his lips.
“Monsieur,” she demanded quick as thought, “my trunk?”
“Mon Dieu, mademoiselle, I did well to bring myself.”
“You should have brought my trunk, sir, first of all. Deign to look at this frock! No, no, don’t, please don’t. But tell me everything. What could have happened to you last night? Why did you not meet me this morning?”
His story was brief. Of his contemplated strategy at Tampico, there had been a most lugubrious botching. The night before, when he started to the fort for aid, Fra Diavolo’s little Mexicans had waylaid him, bound him, and dragged him back to the café, where Jacqueline that very moment reposed in slumber. And there, in a back room without a window, he had gritted his teeth until morning. As for the sailors, who were to return to the ship for her trunk; well, more little Mexicans had fired on them from the river bank. The small boat, riddled with shot, had sunk, and the sailors, splashing frantically to keep off the sharks, had gained the shore opposite. 96But they could neither get word to the ship, nor cross back to Tampico.
“Yet,” demanded Jacqueline, “how could you know all this, there in your prison room?”
“Am I saying I did, name of a name? Well, those poor sailors wandered about all night in the swamps across the river, and this morning they ran into Colonel Dupin and his Contras, and the colonel was frothing mad. He had only just stumbled on the bodies of Captain Maurel and some of his men, who had been ambushed and murdered. Poor Maurel was dangling from a tree among the vultures. Others were mutilated. Some had even been tortured. And all were stripped, and rotting naked. Mon Dieu, mon dieu, but it’s an inferno, this country!”