The Free Rangers | Page 8

it now?"
He was looking at Braxton Wyatt, as he spoke, and he saw a sudden
change appear upon his face, a look of recognition and then of mingled
hate and rage. The renegade was staring Northward, and the eyes of
Alvarez followed his.
The Spaniard saw a man or rather a youth approaching, a straight,
slender, but tall and compact figure, and a face uncommon in the
wilderness, fine, delicate, with the eyes of a dreamer, and seer, but
never weak. The youth came on steadily, straight coward the Spanish
camp.
"Paul Cotter!" exclaimed Braxton Wyatt. "How under the sun did he
come here!"
"Some one you know?" said Alvarez who heard the words.
"Yes, from the settlements of which we speak," replied Wyatt quickly
and in a low tone. He had no time to add more, because Paul was now
in the Spanish camp, and was gravely saluting the leader, whom he had
recognized instantly to be such by his dress and manner. Francisco
Alvarez rose to his feet, and politely returned the salute. He saw at once
a quality in the stranger that was not wholly of the wilderness. Braxton
Wyatt nodded, but Paul took no notice whatever of him. A flush broke
again through the tan of the renegade's face.
"Be seated," said Alvarez, and Paul sat down on a little grassy knoll.
"You are Captain Francisco Alvarez of the Spanish forces at New
Orleans?"
"You have me truly," replied the Spaniard smiling and shrugging his
shoulders, "although I cannot surmise how you became aware of my
presence here. But the domains of my master, the king, extend far, and

his servants must travel far, also, to do his will."
Paul understood the implication in his words, but he, too, had the gift of
language and diplomacy, and he did not reply to it. Stirred by deep
curiosity, the Spanish soldiers were gathering a little nearer, but
Alvarez waved back all but Wyatt.
"I am glad to find you here, Captain Alvarez," said Paul with a gravity
beyond his years; indeed, as he spoke, his face was lighted up by that
same singular look of exaltation that had passed more than once over
the face of the shiftless one. "And I am glad because I have come for a
reason, one of the greatest of all reasons. I want to say something, not
for myself, but for others."
"Ah, an ambassador, I see," said Francisco Alvarez with a light touch
of irony.
But Paul took no notice of the satire. He was far too much in earnest,
and he resumed in tones impressive in their solemnity:
"I am from one of the little white villages in the Kentucky woods far to
the eastward. There we have fought the wilderness and twice we have
driven back strong forces of the allied tribes, although they came with
great resolution and were helped moreover by treachery."
Braxton Wyatt moved angrily and was about to speak, but Paul, never
glancing in his direction, went on steadily:
"These settlements cannot be uprooted now. They may be damaged.
They may be made to suffer great loss and grief, but the vanguard of
our people will never turn back. Neither warrior nor king can withstand
it."
Now Paul's look was wholly that of the prophet. As he said the last
words, "neither warrior nor king can withstand it" his face was
transfigured. He did not see the Spaniard before him, nor Braxton
Wyatt, the renegade, nor the surrounding woods, but he saw instead
great states and mighty cities.

The Spaniard, despite his displeasure, was impressed by the words of
the youth, but he took hold of himself bodily, as it were, and shook off
the spell. A challenging light sprang into his cold blue eyes.
"I do not know so much about warriors," he said, "but kings may be
and are able to do what they will. If my master should choose to put
forth his strength, even to send his far-extended arm into these woods,
to what would your tiny settlements amount? A pinch of sand before a
puff of wind. Whiff! You are gone. Nor could your people east of the
mountains help you, because they, on bended knee, will soon be
receiving their own lesson from the King of England."
Francisco Alvarez snapped his fingers, as if Paul and his people were
annihilated by a single derisive gesture. Paul reddened and a dangerous
flash came into his eyes. But the natural diplomatist in him took control,
and he replied with the utmost calmness.
"It may be so, but It is not a question that should arise. The King of
Spain is at peace with us. We even hear, deep in the woods as we are,
that he may take our part against