In Kedar's Tents

by Henry Seton Merriman

‘No; I have affairs. Continue your game.’

So the sun went down, and the two soldiers continued their game, while Concepçion sat beside them and slowly, lovingly sharpened his knife on a piece of slate which he carried in his pocket for the purpose.

After sunset there usually arises a cold breeze which blows across the table-lands of Castile quite gently and unobtrusively. A local proverb says of this wind that it will extinguish a man but not a candle. When this arose, the three men descended the mountain-side and sat down to a simple if highly-flavoured meal provided by the ancient mistress of the venta. At half-past eight, when there remained nothing of the day but a faint greenish light in the western sky, the little party mounted their horses and rode away towards Galvez.

‘’Tis better,’ said Concepçion, with a meaning and gallant bow to the hostess. ‘’Tis for my peace of mind. I am but a man.’

Then he haggled over the price of the supper.

They rode forward to the ford described by Concepçion, and there made their preparations—carefully and coolly—as men recognising the odds against them. The half moon was just rising as the soldiers splashed through the water leading Concepçion’s horse, he remaining on the Toledo side of the river.

‘The saints protect us!’ said the nervous soldier, and his hand shook on the bridle. His companion smiled at the recollection of former fights passed through together. It is well, in love and war, to beware of him who says he is afraid.

Shortly after nine o’clock the silence of that deserted plain was broken by a distant murmur, which presently shaped itself into the beat of horses’ feet. To this was added soon the rumble of wheels. The elder soldier put a whole cigarette into his mouth and chewed it. The younger man made no movement now. They crouched low at their posts one on each side of the ford. Concepçion was across the river, but they could not see him. In Andalusia they say that a contrabandist can conceal himself behind half a brick.

The two riders were well in front of the carriage, and, as had been foreseen, the horses lingered on the rise of the bank as if reluctant to leave the water without having tasted it. In a moment the younger soldier had his man out of the saddle, raising his own knee sharply as the man fell, so that the falling head and the lifted knee came into deadly contact. It was a trick well known to the trooper, who let the insensible form roll to the ground, and immediately darted down the bank to the stream. The other soldier was chasing his opponent up the hill, shelling him, as he rode away, with oaths and stones.

In mid-stream the clumsy travelling carriage had come to a standstill. The driver on the box, having cast down his reins, was engaged in imploring the assistance of a black-letter saint, upon which assistance he did not hesitate to put a price, in candles. There was a scurrying in the water, which was about two feet deep, where Concepçion was settling accounts with the man who had been seated by the driver’s side. A half-choked scream of pain appeared to indicate that Concepçion had found the spot he sought, above the right lung, and that amiable smuggler now rose dripping from the flood and hurried to the carriage.