Part 17 (1/2)

”By the tomb of my mother, you shall pay!” gurgled Bill.

”Come off!” says Flannagan kindly. ”She hadn't any tomb, an' ye disremember who she was.”

”Why,” says Madame Bill, ”the Senor Flannagan on that point speaks nearly the truth.”

”A-r-r-r! I'll have your blood!” says the Minister.

”An' me givin' ye the soft word,” says Flannagan, ”an' apologies for takin' ye for a decorated rubber ball, an' bouncin' ye on the floor!

'Twas wrong of me. Sure, now, Misther Bill, an' is there more needed between gentlemen?” He looked for help to Madame Bill, who gazed at the smoke of her cheroot and seemed absent-minded.

”Listen, my Georgio,” she began at last, ”I have considered, and I say you have done foolishly to scatter the soldiers about the city to hurry and to inquire, so that the people become excited. Hear in the Plaza already how they cry out like children, and each one is angry at a different thing.”

The Minister started, and listened, and wiped his wet forehead with his sleeve. The roar in the Plaza was increasing. He sprang to his feet, and puffed, and he says:

”The military is scattered! It is a mob! I must go! Attend me, my wife!”

But Flannagan enclosed his collar. ”Respict for me own intherests,” he says, ”is me proudest virtue. Would ye have me missin' the sight of a rivolution from a private box, an' the shpectacle of explodin' liberty?

An' ye'll be havin' me blood to-morry by the tomb of your mother? Ah, now!”

”Let me go!” he says, shrieking and struggling. ”I accept your apology!

Say no more!”

Flannagan looked at Madame Bill. The crowd was shouting more in unison now. They says, ”Vivo Alvarez!” and ”Bill al fuego!” which the latter means, as you or I might say, ”To h.e.l.l with Bill!” The Minister s.h.i.+vered and struggled, but more moderate.

”The military will be confused, will do nothing without order!” he pleaded to Madame Bill.

”The military,” says the tin-type man, from the shutters, speaking through his nose, soft and scornful, ”they appear to feel tolerable good. There's a batch of 'em on the steps under here, a-sittin' in their sins, and shoutin' 'Down with Bill!' very hearty like.”

”Mutiny!” howled the Minister. ”Alas!” and he sat down, wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and panted, and appeared more composed.

Flannagan sat down, too. ”I do be feelin' warm the same,” he says.

”Shall we have a drink?”

Madame Bill was still turning things over in her mind. ”Doubtless they so shout,” she says. ”They are not without sense. Listen again, my Georgio. I have considered. It is perhaps not bad. Moreover, it is done.

But the Department of the Military is not good for you. It worries you, therefore you disturb it, therefore it does not like you. Also, we have lost popularity in Rosalia. But in the interior, as yet, no. Therefore, consider. Senor Alvarez is perhaps generous. If he overthrow the government, he will desire there come an election, and who knows? We may for him go to the interior, and in reward be Minister of Agriculture, which is cooler. But if he overthrow not the government, but by compromise become Minister of Military and Internal Peace, then my Georgio will be in innocence a victim, and perhaps will have to hide, which is hot and dull, or go to the dungeons of La Libertad, which is dull and wet; or we would escape from the country in the distinguished s.h.i.+p of the Senor Buckingham, or in the Imperial Company of Senor Flannagan, which would be better.”

”An' it's proud I'd be to have ye,” says Flannagan, ”as I said, ma'am, in the capitals of the world. Hivins!” he says, ”the tropical advertis.e.m.e.nts! By the mimory of Ireland, 'tis a filibuster expedition I foresee! Me genius is long suppressed.”

Madame Bill shrugged her shoulders. ”Who knows? Therefore be calm, little one. We will see what they do in the Plaza.”

The fallen or falling Minister emptied a gla.s.s of iced wine, and looked more contented than before. He was a pleasant enough man as a rule, except when not digesting well, and generally submissive to Madame Bill.

We put out the lights and opened the shutters, and all looked out on the Plaza except David, who woke up, and taking things in, appeared to say to himself, ”They're doing something else,” and went to sleep again.

The Plaza was a boiling mess, but the military were enjoying themselves in good order. They were collected on the steps of La Libertad below, about five hundred of them. They seemed to be leading the cheering. The hotel across the Plaza was lit up and the windows full of heads.

Then a hush fell everywhere, and the faces were turned toward the portico, with the six great pillars and lamps on each, that formed the centre of the Plaza front of La Libertad. Two men stood on the top step, one in a sombrero, and the other in black coat and tall hat. The tall hat, by his gestures, was addressing the crowd, but we couldn't hear him.

”The President and Alvarez,” says Madame Bill, very calm. ”They compromise. My Georgio will be hot and dull.”