Part 12 (1/2)

”To the man who sets them free,”

Cried the foreman, Harry Lee,-- Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine,-- ”Brings them out and sets them free, I will give that man,” said he, ”Twice that sum, who with a rope Face to face with Death shall cope.

Let him come who dares to hope!”

”Hold your peace!” some one replied, Standing by the foreman's side; ”There has one already gone, whoe'er he be!”

Then they held their breath with awe, Pulling on the rope, and saw Fainting figures reappear, On the black rope swinging clear, Fastened by some skillful hand from below; Till a score the level gained, And but one alone remained,-- He the hero and the last, He whose skillful hand made fast The long line that brought them back to hope and cheer!

Haggard, gasping, down dropped he At the feet of Harry Lee,-- Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine.

”I have come,” he gasped, ”to claim Both rewards. Senor, my name Is Ramon!

I'm the drunken engineer, I'm the coward, Senor”-- Here He fell over, by that sign, Dead as stone!

DON DIEGO OF THE SOUTH

(REFECTORY, MISSION SAN GABRIEL, 1869)

Good!--said the Padre,--believe me still, ”Don Giovanni,” or what you will, The type's eternal! We knew him here As Don Diego del Sud. I fear The story's no new one! Will you hear?

One of those spirits you can't tell why G.o.d has permitted. Therein I Have the advantage, for I hold That wolves are sent to the purest fold, And we'd save the wolf if we'd get the lamb.

You're no believer? Good! I am.

Well, for some purpose, I grant you dim, The Don loved women, and they loved him.

Each thought herself his LAST love! Worst, Many believed that they were his FIRST!

And, such are these creatures since the Fall, The very doubt had a charm for all!

You laugh! You are young, but I--indeed I have no patience... To proceed:-- You saw, as you pa.s.sed through the upper town, The Eucinal where the road goes down To San Felipe! There one morn They found Diego,--his mantle torn, And as many holes through his doublet's band As there were wronged husbands--you understand!

”Dying,” so said the gossips. ”Dead”

Was what the friars who found him said.

May be. Quien sabe? Who else should know?

It was a hundred years ago.

There was a funeral. Small indeed-- Private. What would you? To proceed:--

Scarcely the year had flown. One night The Commandante awoke in fright, Hearing below his cas.e.m.e.nt's bar The well-known tw.a.n.g of the Don's guitar; And rushed to the window, just to see His wife a-swoon on the balcony.

One week later, Don Juan Ramirez Found his own daughter, the Dona Inez, Pale as a ghost, leaning out to hear The song of that phantom cavalier.

Even Alcalde Pedro Blas Saw, it was said, through his niece's gla.s.s, The shade of Diego twice repa.s.s.

What these gentlemen each confessed Heaven and the Church only knows. At best The case was a bad one. How to deal With Sin as a Ghost, they couldn't but feel Was an awful thing. Till a certain Fray Humbly offered to show the way.

And the way was this. Did I say before That the Fray was a stranger? No, Senor?

Strange! very strange! I should have said That the very week that the Don lay dead He came among us. Bread he broke Silent, nor ever to one he spoke.

So he had vowed it! Below his brows His face was hidden. There are such vows!