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Page 32 text:
“
ilnbtr Ci)c Utlacs An Episode, by Florence Ede Juan Hastings came tumbling off the low gabled roof on to the soft ground in the garden. Startled, he arose and shook some of the loose dirt from his uniform and listened. The shout of the men and the reports of the muskets plainly told him that his pursuers were near at hand. He stood in the shadow of a huge lilac tree and glanced around to ascertain where he was. He found himself in the rear courtyard of the home of the American consul to Mexico. Safe at last, he thought; but that was not to be, for the dark faces of the Mexicans were plainly visible in the bright moonlight and he could see that they were surrounding the place. Juan, seeing no way of escape at present, stealthily climbed into the lilac tree, a monstrous thing with full white blossoms. Its fragrance overwhelmed him and there came into his mind a vision of his old home in Mon¬ terey. Again he saw his sweet-faced mother sitting be¬ neath the shade of the lilac tree which shaded the porch of the old homestead. Why had he come to this barbarous country when every one was up in arms. This was the question he impatiently asked himself. The only answer of which he could think was, that he had come simply for the danger and glory of being at the front. But this was no time to think of home, ne must try to make his escape. The Mexicans would soon have the place completely surrounded. For an instant everything was quiet in the courtyard and he wondered where the men had gone. Listening in¬ tently he discovered that they had gathered and were°dis- cussing the situation in fluent Spanish. Cautiously Juan oescended from his high perch and made his way along the
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Page 33 text:
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shadow of the beautiful trees until he reached the bank of the little lake which lay behind the large courtyard. The re, to his surprise, he saw a white robed figure sit¬ ting on a rock by the bank directly in the brilliant light of the tropical moon. Crouched in the shadow he watched the figure. It was a young woman, and with a start of amazement Juan recognized Helen Ford, the consul’s daughter. He arose and approached to where she sat. Suppressing a startled scream she stepped back, then seeing who came she ran towards him. Her face was white with terror, her eyes starry with excitement, and her pretty mouth quivering and tremu¬ lous. “Juan,” she cried, clinging to him in a passion of relief, “Juan, the Mexicans have revolted again. They have taken father and are searching for me.” She gazed at him with terror-stricken eyes. “What shall we do?” The man caressed her gently until she became calm. His mind was working quickly seeking an avenue of escape but he knew it was useless. They were at the mercy ol vhe enraged, ignorant Mexicans, and at the thought the man’s heart sank. “Come, little girl.” he said, “we must go inside and wait our chance to get away. But if we are to die—well, Americans knows how to die bravely.” The girl lifted her head proudly. “Come,” she said. Then, arm in arm, they hastened up the moonlit path to the house Suddenly, sixteen rifle reports stirred the stillness of the tropical summer evening. Sixteen dusky Mexican faces glowed with triumph, then with a shout they hurried on their way of death and destruction. In the garden a gentle breeze murmured through the leaves of the lilac, a tiny moan was wafted to the heavens then all was still. And there, stretched on the green sward, side by side, they lay, the soldier and the maid.
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