The Free Rangers | Page 9

England. France already is helping us.
So I have come to ask you to take no share in plots against us, not to
listen to evil counsels, and not to turn ear to traitors, who, having been
traitors to one people, can readily be traitors to another."
Braxton Wyatt leaped to his feet, his face blazing with wrath, and his
hand flew to the hilt of the knife at his belt.
"Now this is more than I will stand!" he exclaimed, "you cannot ignore
me, Paul Cotter, until such time you choose, and then call me foul
names!"
The Spaniard smiled. The sight of Braxton Wyatt's wrath pleased him,
but he put out his hand in a detaining gesture.
"Sit down!" he said in a tone so sharp that Wyatt obeyed. "This is no
time for personal quarrels. As I see it, an embassy has come to us and
we must discuss matters of state. Is it not so, Señor, Señor--"

"Cotter! Paul Cotter is my name."
Paul felt the sneer in the Spaniard's last words, but he hid his
resentment.
"Then your proposition is this," continued Alvarez, "that I and my men
have nothing to do with the Indians, that we make no treaty, no
agreement with them, that we abandon this country and go back to New
Orleans. This you propose despite the fact that the region in which we
now are belongs to Spain."
"I would not put it in quite that fashion," replied Paul calmly. "I suggest
instead that you be our friend. It is natural for the white races to stand
together. I suggest that you send away, also, the messenger of the tribes
who comes seeking your help to slaughter women and children."
Braxton Wyatt half rose, but again he was put down by the restraining
gesture of Francisco Alvarez.
"No personal quarrels, as I stated before," said the Spaniard, "but to
you, Señor Cotter, I wish to say that I have heard your words, but it
seems to me they are without weight. I do not agree with you that the
settlements of the Americans cannot be uprooted. Nor am I sure that
your title to Kaintock is good. It was claimed in the beginning by
France, and justly, but a great war gave it by might though not by right
to England. Now Spain has succeeded to France. Here, throughout all
this vast region, there is none to dispute her title. To the east of the
Mississippi great changes are going on, and it may be that Kaintock,
also, will revert to my master, the king."
He waved his hand in a gesture of finality, and a look of satisfaction
came into Braxton Wyatt's eyes. The renegade glanced triumphantly at
Paul, but Paul's face remained calm.
"You would not proceed to any act of hostility in conjunction with the
tribes, when Spain and the colonies are at peace?" said Paul to the
Spaniard.

Francisco Alvarez frowned, and assumed a haughty look.
"I make neither promises nor prophecies," he said, "I have spoken
courteously to you, Señor Cotter, although you are a trespasser on the
Spanish domain. I have given you the hospitality of our camp, but I
cannot answer questions pertaining to the policy of my government."
Paul, for the first time, showed asperity. He, too, drew himself up with
a degree of haughtiness, and he looked Don Francisco Alvarez squarely
in the eyes, as he replied:
"I did not come here to ask questions. I came merely to say that our
nations are at peace, and to urge you not to help savages in a war upon
white people."
"I do not approve of rebels," said Alvarez.
Paul was silent. He felt instinctively that his mission had failed.
Something cold and cruel about the Spaniard repelled him, and he
believed, too, that Braxton Wyatt had not been without a sinister
influence.
Alvarez arose and walked over to his camp-fire. Braxton Wyatt
followed him and whispered rapidly to the Spaniard. Paul, persistent
and always hopeful, was putting down his anger and trying to think of
other effective words that he might use. But none would come into his
head, and he, too, rose.
"I am sorry that we cannot agree. Captain Alvarez," he said with the
grave courtesy that became him so well, "and therefore I will bid you
good day."
A thin smile passed over the face of the Spaniard and the blue eyes
shed a momentary, metallic gleam.
"I pray you not to be in haste, Señor Cotter," he said. "Be our guest for
a while."

"I must go," replied Paul, "although I thank you for the courtesy."
"But we cannot part with you now," said the Spaniard, "you are on
Spanish soil. Others of your kind may be near, also, and you