The White Scalper. Gustave Aimard

      "Who's there?" was asked from inside.

      One of the newcomers replied, but in so low a tone, that it was impossible for the Colonel to hear the word pronounced. The door was opened, and the strangers entered; it was then closed again, but not until the opener had cast a scrutinizing glance round him.

      "What does this mean?" the Colonel muttered.

      "It means," a rough voice said in his ear, "that you are listening to what does not concern you, Colonel Melendez, and that it may prove dangerous to you."

      The Colonel, astounded at this unexpected answer, and especially at being so well known, quickly drew a pistol from his belt, cocked it, and turned to his strange speaker.

      "On my word," he answered, "there is no worse danger to incur than that of an immediate death, which I should not at all object to, I swear to you."

      The stranger began laughing, and emerged from the thicket in which he was hidden. He was a powerful-looking man, and, like the Colonel, held a pistol in his hand.

      "You are aware that duelling is forbidden in the Mexican army," he said, "so take my advice, sir, and put up that pistol, which, if it exploded, might entail very disagreeable consequences for you."

      "Lower your weapon first," the Colonel said, coldly, "and then I will see what I have to do."

      "Very good," the other remarked, still smiling, as he thrust his pistol into his belt. The Colonel imitated him.

      "And now," the stranger continued, "I have to converse with you; but, as you can see, this spot is badly chosen for a secret interview."

      "That is true," the Colonel interrupted, frankly assuming the tone of the singular man with whom chance had so unexpectedly brought him together.

      "I am delighted that you are of my opinion. Well, Colonel, as it is so, be kind enough to accompany me merely a few paces, and I will lead you to a spot I know, which is perfectly adapted for the conversation we must have together."

      "I am at your orders, Caballero," the Colonel answered, with a bow.

      "Come, then," the stranger added, as he made a start.

      The Colonel followed him. The stranger led him to the spot where he had tied up his horse, by the side of which another was now standing. The stranger stopped.

      "Let us mount," he said.

      "What for?" the young officer asked.

      "To be off, of course. Are you not returning to Galveston?"

      "Certainly; still——"

      "Still," the stranger interrupted, "you would have had no objection to prowl a little longer round the rancho, I presume?"

      "I confess it."

      "Well, on my honour, you are wrong, for two excellent reasons: the first is, that you will learn nothing more than you have surmised,—that is to say, that the rancho is the headquarters of the insurrection. You see that I am frank with you."

      "I perceive it. And now, what is your second reason?"

      "It is very simple: you run the risk, at any moment, of being saluted with a bullet, and you know that the Texans are decent marksmen."

      "Certainly; but you know also that this reason possesses but slight value for me."

      "I beg your pardon; courage does not consist, in my opinion, at least, in sacrificing one's life without reason; it consists, on the contrary, in being only killed for a good price,—that is to say, for a motive worth the trouble."

      "Thanks for the lecture, Caballero."

      "Shall we be off?"

      "At once, if you will be good enough to tell me who you are and where we are going?"

      "I am surprised that you did not recognise me long ago, for we have been for some time past on excellent, if not intimate terms."

      "That may be; the sound of your voice is rather familiar to me, and I fancy I have heard it before, but it is impossible for me to recall either when or under what circumstances."

      "By Heaven, Colonel! You will allow me to remark that you have a preciously short memory. But since our last meeting, so many events have occurred, that it is not surprising you should have forgotten me. With one word I will recall everything to your mind—I am John Davis, the ex-slave dealer."

      "You!" the Colonel exclaimed, with a start of surprise.

      "Yes, I am that person."

      "Ah! Ah!" the Colonel continued, as he crossed his arms haughtily and looked him in the face, "In that case we have an account to settle."

      "I am not aware of the fact, Colonel."

      "You forget, Master Davis, in what manner you abused my confidence in order to betray me."

      "I? You are in error, Colonel. To do that I must have been a Mexican, which is not the case, thank Heaven! I served my country as you serve yours, that is all; each for himself in a revolution, you know."

      "That proverb may suit you, Master Davis, I grant, but I only know one way of acting honourably, with uplifted head."

      "Hum! There would be a good deal to say on that head, but it is not the question at this moment. The proof that you are mistaken and unjust toward me is, that a few minutes ago I held your life in my hands, and was unwilling to take it."

      "You were wrong, for I swear to you that unless you defend yourself I shall take yours in a second," he said, as he cocked a pistol.

      "You are in earnest, then?"

      "Most earnest, he assured."

      "You are mad," said Davis, with a shrug of his shoulders; "what strange idea is this of yours to insist on killing me?"

      "Will you defend yourself; yes or no?"

      "Wait a moment. What a man you are! There is no way of having an explanation with you."

      "One word, then, but be brief."

      "Well, as you are aware, I am not accustomed to make long speeches."

      "I am listening to you."

      "Why play with the butt of your pistol so? Vengeance is only real when complete. A shot fired would be the signal for your death, for you would be surrounded and attacked on all sides at once before you had even time to place a foot in the stirrup. You allow this, I suppose?"

      "To the point, Master Davis, for I am in a hurry."

      "You admit," the other said, with his old stoicism, "that I am seeking no unworthy subterfuge to avoid a meeting with you?"

      "I know that you are a brave man."

      "Thanks! I do not discuss the validity of the reason which makes you wish to exchange bullets with me: a pretext is nothing with men like ourselves. I pledge my word to be at your disposal on any day, and at any hour you please, with or without witnesses. Does that suit you?"

      "Would it not be better to mount, gallop into the plain that stretches out before us, and settle the affair at once?"

      "I should like to do so, but, unfortunately, I must, for the present, deprive myself of the pleasure. I repeat to you that we cannot fight, at least not at this moment."

      "But the reason, the reason?" the young man exclaimed, with feverish impatience.

      "The reason is this, as you absolutely insist on my telling it you: I am at this moment entrusted with very great interests; in a word, I am charged by the Chief of the Texan army with a mission of the utmost importance to General Rubio, Military Governor of Galveston. You are too much of a gentleman not to understand that this prohibits me risking a life which does not belong to me."

      The Colonel bowed with exquisite politeness and uncocked the pistol, which he restored