Blondie showered eulogy after eulogy on Demetrio and his men; thisproved sufficient reason for bringing out a fresh case of beer, whichwas finished in short order.
Suddenly War Paint reappeared in the middle of the room, wearing abeautiful silk dress covered with exquisite lace.
"You forgot the stockings," Blondie shouted, shaking with laughter.Quail's girl also burst out laughing. But War Paint did not care. Sheshrugged her shoulders indifferently, sat down on the floor, kicked offher white satin slippers, and wiggled her toes happily, giving theirmuscles a freedom welcome after their tight confinement in theslippers. She said:
"Hey, you, Pancracio, go and get me my blue stockings ... they're withthe rest of my plunder."
Soldiers and their friends, companions and veterans of other campaigns,began to enter in groups of twos and threes. Demetrio, growing excited,began to narrate in detail his most notable feats of arms.
"What the hell is that noise?" he asked in surprise as he heard stringand brass instruments tuning up in the patio.
"General Demetrio Macias," Luis Cervantes said solemnly, "it's abanquet all of your old friends and followers are giving in your honorto celebrate your victory at Zacatecas and your well-merited promotionto the rank of general!"
III
"General Macias, I want you to meet my future wife," Luis Cervantessaid with great emphasis as he led a beautiful girl into the diningroom.
They all turned to look at her. Her large blue eyes grew wide inwonder. She was barely fourteen. Her skin was like a rose, soft, pink,fresh; her hair was very fair; the expression in her eyes was partlyimpish curiosity, partly a vague childish fear. Perceiving thatDemetrio eyed her like a beast of prey, Luis Cervantes congratulatedhimself.
They made room for her between Luis Cervantes and Blondie, oppositeDemetrio.
Bottles of tequila, dishes of cut glass, bowls, porcelains and vaseslay scattered over the table indiscriminately. Meco, carrying a box ofbeer upon his shoulders, came in cursing and sweating.
"You don't know this fellow Blondie yet," said War Paint, noticing thepersistent glances he was casting at Luis Cervantes' bride. "He's asmart fellow, I can tell you, and he never misses a trick." She gazedat him lecherously, adding:
"That's why I don't like to see him close, even on a photograph!"
The orchestra struck up a raucous march as though they were playing ata bullfight. The soldiers roared with joy.
"What fine tripe, General; I swear I haven't tasted the like of it inall my life," Blondie said, as he began to reminisce about "El Monico"at Chihuahua.
"You really like it, Blondie?" responded Demetrio. "Go ahead, call formore, eat your bellyful."
"It's just the way I like it," Anastasio chimed in. "Yes, I like goodfood! But nothing really tastes good to you unless you belch!"
The noise of mouths being filled, of ravenous feeding followed. Alldrank copiously. At the end of the dinner, Luis Cervantes rose, holdinga champagne glass in one hand, and said:
"General..."
"Ho!" War Paint interrupted. "This speech-making business isn't for me;I'm all against it. I'll go out to the corral since there's no moreeating here."
Presenting Demetrio with a black velvet-covered box containing a smallbrass eagle, Luis Cervantes made a toast which no one understood buteveryone applauded enthusiastically. Demetrio took the insignia in hishands; and with flushed face, and eyes shining, declared with greatcandor:
"What in hell am I going to do with this buzzard!"
"Compadre," Anastasio Montanez said in a tremulous voice. "I ain't gotmuch to tell you...."
Whole minutes elapsed between his words; the cursed words would notcome to Anastasio. His face, coated with filth, unwashed for days,turned crimson, shining with perspiration. Finally he decided to finishhis toast at all costs. "Well, I ain't got much to tell you, exceptthat we are pals...."
Then, since everyone had applauded at the end of Luis Cervantes'speech, Anastasio having finished, made a sign, and the company clappedtheir hands in great gravity.
But everything turned out for the best, since his awkwardness inspiredothers. Manteca and Quail stood up and made their toasts, too. WhenMeco's turn came, War Paint rushed in shouting jubilantly, attemptingto drag a splendid black horse into the dining room.
"My booty! My booty!" she cried, patting the superb animal on the neck.It resisted every effort she made until a strong jerk of the rope and asudden lash brought it in prancing smartly. The soldiers, half drunk,stared at the beast with ill-disguised envy.
"I don't know what the hell this she-devil's got, but she always beatseverybody to it," cried Blondie. "She's been the same ever since shejoined us at Tierra Blanca!"
"Hey, Pancracio, bring me some alfalfa for my horse," War Paintcommanded crisply, throwing the horse's rope to one of the soldiers.
Once more they filled their glasses. Many a head hung low with fatigueor drunkenness. Most of the company, however, shouted with glee,including Luis Cervantes' girl. She had spilled all her wine on ahandkerchief and looked all about her with blue wondering eyes.
"Boys," Blondie suddenly screamed, his shrill, guttural voicedominating the mall, "I'm tired of living; I feel like killing myselfright now. I'm sick and tired of War Paint and this other little angelfrom heaven won't even look at me!"
Luis Cervantes saw that the last remark was addressed to his bride;with great surprise he realized that it was not Demetrio's foot he hadnoticed close to the girl's, but Blondie's. He was boiling withindignation.
"Keep your eye on me, boys," Blondie went on, gun in hand. "I'm goingto shoot myself right in the forehead!"
He aimed at the large mirror on the opposite wall which gave back hiswhole body in reflection. He took careful aim....
"Don't move, War Paint."
The bullet whizzed by, grazing War Paint's hair. The mirror broke intolarge jagged fragments. She did not even so much as blink.
IV
Late in the afternoon Luis Cervantes rubbed his eyes and sat up. He hadbeen sleeping on the hard pavement, close to the trunk of a fruit tree.Anastasio, Pancracio and Quail slept nearby, breathing heavily.
His lips were swollen, his nose dry and cold. There were bloodstains onhis hands and shirt. At once he recalled what had taken place. Soon herose to his feet and made for one of the bedrooms. He pushed at thedoor several times without being able to force it open. For a fewminutes he stood there, hesitating.
No--he had not dreamed it. Everything had really occurred just as herecalled it. He had left the table with his bride and taken her to thebedroom, but just as he was closing the door, Demetrio staggered afterthem and made one leap toward them. Then War Paint dashed in afterDemetrio and began to struggle with him. Demetrio, his eyes white-hot,his lips covered with long blond hairs, looked for the bride, indespair. But War Paint pushed him back vigorously.
"What the hell is the matter with you? What the hell are you trying todo?" he demanded, furious.
War Paint put her leg between his, twisted it suddenly, and Demetriofell to the ground outside of the bedroom. He rose, raging.
"Help! Help! He's going to kill me!" she cried, seizing Demetrio'swrist and turning the gun aside. The bullet hit the floor. War Paintcontinued to shriek. Anastasio disarmed Demetrio from behind.
Demetrio, standing like a furious bull in the middle of the arena, castfierce glances at all the bystanders, Luis Cervantes, Anastasio,Manteca, and the others.
"Goddamn you! You've taken my gun away! Christ! As if I needed any gunto beat the hell out of you."
Flinging out his arms, beating and pummeling, he felled everyone withinreach. Down they rolled like tenpins. Then, after that, Luis Cervantescould remember nothing more. Perhaps his bride, terrified by all thesebrutes, had wisely vanished and hidden herself.
"Perhaps this bedroom communicates with the living room and I can go inthrough there," he thought, standing at the threshold. At the sound ofhis footsteps, War Paint woke up. She lay on the rug close to Dem
etrioat the foot of a couch filled with alfalfa and corn where the blackhorse had fed.
"What are you looking for? Oh, hell, I know what you want! Shame onyou! Why, I had to lock up your sweetheart because I couldn't struggleany more against this damned Demetrio. Take the key, it's lying on thattable, there!"
Luis Cervantes searched in vain all over the house.
"Come on, tell me all about your girl."
Nervously, Luis Cervantes continued to look for the key.
"Come on, don't be in such a hurry, I'll give it to you. Come along,tell me; I like to hear about these things, you know. That girl is yourkind, she's not a country person like us."
"I've nothing to say. She's my girl and we're going to get married,that's all."
"Ho! Ho! Ho! You're going to marry her, eh? Trying to teach yourgrandmother to suck eggs, eh? Why, you fool, any place you just manageto get to for the first time in your life, I've left a hundred milesbehind me, see. I've cut my wisdom teeth. It was Meco and Manteca whotook the girl from her home: I knew that all the time. You just gavethem something so as to have her yourself, gave them a pair of cufflinks ... or a miraculous picture of some Virgin.... Am I right? Sure,I am! There aren't so many people in the world who know what's what,but I reckon you'll meet up with a few before you die!"
War Paint got up to give him the key but she could not find it either.She was much surprised. Quickly, she ran to the bedroom door and peeredthrough the keyhole, standing motionless until her eye grew accustomedto the darkness within. Without drawing away, she said: "You damnedBlondie. Son of a bitch! Come here a minute, look!"
She went away laughing.
"Didn't I tell them all I'd never seen a smarter fellow in all my life!"
The following morning, War Paint watched for the moment when Blondieleft the bedroom to feed his horses....
"Come on, Angel Face. Run home quick!"
The blue-eyed girl, with a face like a Madonna, stood naked save forher chemise and stockings. War Paint covered her with Manteca's lousyblanket, took her by the hand and led her to the street.
"God, I'm happy," War Paint cried. "I'm crazy ... about Blondie ...now."
V
Like neighing colts, playful when the rainy season begins, Demetrio'smen galloped through the sierra.
"To Moyahua, boys. Let's go to Demetrio Macias' country!"
"To the country of Monico the cacique!"
The landscape grew clearer; the sun margined the diaphanous sky with afringe of crimson. Like the bony shoulders of immense sleepingmonsters, the chains of mountains rose in the distance. Crags therewere like heads of colossal native idols; others like giants' faces,their grimaces awe-inspiring or grotesque, calling forth a smile or ashudder at a presentment of mystery.
Demetrio Macias rode at the head of his men; behind him the members ofhis staff: Colonel Anastasio Montanez, Lieutenant-Colonel Pancracio,Majors Luis Cervantes and Blondie. Still further behind came War Paintwith Venancio, who paid her many compliments and recited the despairingverses of Antonio Plaza. As the sun's rays began to slip from thehousetops, they made their entrance into Moyahua, four abreast, to thesound of the bugle. The roosters' chorus was deafening, dogs barkedtheir alarm, but not a living soul stirred on the streets.
War Paint spurred her black horse and with one jump was abreast withDemetrio. They rode forward, elbow to elbow. She wore a silk dress andheavy gold earrings. Proudly her pale blue gown deepened her olive skinand the coppery spots on her face and arms. Riding astride, she hadpulled her skirts up to her knees; her stockings showed, filthy andfull of runs. She wore a gun at her side, a cartridge belt hung overthe pommel of her saddle.
Demetrio was also dressed in his best clothes. His broad-brimmed hatwas richly embroidered; his leather trousers were tight-fitting andadorned with silver buttons; his coat was embroidered with gold thread.
There was a sound of doors being beaten down and forced open. Thesoldiers had already scattered through the town, to gather togetherammunition and saddles from everywhere.
"We're going to bid Monico good morning," Demetrio said gravely,dismounting and tossing his bridle to one of his men. "We're going tohave breakfast with Don Monico, who's a particular friend of mine ...."
The general's staff smiled ... a sinister, malign smile....
Making their spurs ring against the pavement, they walked toward alarge pretentious house, obviously that of a cacique.
"It's closed airtight," Anastasio Montanez said, pushing the door withall his might.
"That's all right. I'll open it," Pancracio answered, lowering hisrifle and pointing it at the lock.
"No, no," Demetrio said, "knock first."
Three blows with the butt of the rifle. Three more. No answer.Pancracio disobeys orders. He fires, smashing the lock. The door opens.Behind, a confusion of skirts and children's bare legs rushing to andfro, pell-mell.
"I want wine. Hey, there: wine!" Demetrio cries in an imperious voice,pounding heavily on a table.
"Sit down, boys."
A lady peeps out, another, a third; from among black skirts, the headsof frightened children. One of the women, trembling, walks toward acupboard and, taking out some glasses and a bottle, serves wine.
"What arms have you?" Demetrio demands harshly.
"Arms, arms...?" the lady answers, a taste of ashes on her tongue."What arms do you expect us to have! We are respectable, lonely oldladies!"
"Lonely, eh! Where's Senor Monico?"
"Oh, he's not here, gentlemen, I assure you! We merely rent the housefrom him, you see. We only know him by name!"
Demetrio orders his men to search the house.
"No, please don't. We'll bring you whatever we have ourselves, butplease for God's sake, don't do anything cruel. We're spinsters, lonewomen ... perfectly respectable...."
"Spinsters, hell! What about these kids here?" Pancracio interruptsbrutally. "Did they spring from the earth?"
The women disappear hurriedly, to return with an old shotgun, coveredwith dust and cobwebs, and a pistol with rusty broken springs.
Demetrio smiles.
"All right, then, let's see the money."
"Money? Money? But what money do you think a couple of spinsters have?Spinsters alone in the world....?"
They glance up in supplication at the nearest soldier; but they areseized with horror. For they have just seen the Roman soldier whocrucified Our Lord in the Via Crucis of the parish! They have seenPancracio!
Demetrio repeats his order to search.
Once again the women disappear to return this time with a moth-eatenwallet containing a few Huerta bills.
Demetrio smiles and without further delay calls to his men to come in.Like hungry dogs who have sniffed their meat, the mob bursts in,trampling down the women who sought to bar the entrance with theirbodies. Several faint, fall to the ground; others flee in panic. Thechildren scream.
Pancracio is about to break the lock of a huge wardrobe when suddenlythe doors open and out comes a man with a rifle in his hands.
"Senor Don Monico!" they all exclaim in surprise.
"Demetrio, please, don't harm me! Please don't harm me! Please don'thurt me! You know, Senor Don Demetrio, I'm your friend!"
Demetrio Macias smiles slyly. "Are friends," he asked, "usuallywelcomed gun in hand?"
Don Monico, in consternation, throws himself at Demetrio's feet, claspshis knees, kisses his shoes: "My wife! ... My children! ... Please,Senor Don Demetrio, my friend!"
Demetrio with taut hand puts his gun back in the holster.
A painful silhouette crosses his mind. He sees a woman with a child inher arms walking over the rocks of the sierra in the moonlight. A housein flames....
"Clear out. Everybody outside!" he orders darkly.
His staff obeys. Monico and the ladies kiss his hands, weeping withgratitude. The mob in the street, talking and laughing, stands waitingfor the general's permission to ransack the cacique's house.
"I know where they've buried thei
r money but I won't tell," says ayoungster with a basket in his hands.
"Hm! I know the right place, mind you," says an old woman carrying aburlap sack to hold whatever the good Lord will provide. "It's on topof something ... there's a lot of trinkets nearby and then there's asmall bag with mother-of-pearl around it. That's the thing to look for!"
"You ain't talking sense, woman," puts in a man. "They ain't such foolsas to leave silver lying loose like that. I'm thinking they've got itburied in the well, in a leather bag."
The mob moves slowly; some carry ropes to tie about their bundles,others wooden trays. The women open out their aprons or shawlscalculating their capacity. All give thanks to Divine Providence asthey wait for their share of the booty.
When Demetrio announces that he will not allow looting and orders themto disband, the mob, disconsolate, obeys him, and soon scatters; butthere is a dull rumor among the soldiers and no one moves from hisplace.
Annoyed, Demetrio repeats this order.
A young man, a recent recruit, his head turned by drink, laughs andwalks boldly toward the door. But before he has reached the threshold,a shot lays him low. He falls like a bull pierced in the neck by thematador's sword. Motionless, his smoking gun in his hand, Demetriowaits for the soldiers to withdraw.
"Set fire to the house!" he orders Luis Cervantes when they reach theirquarters.
With a curious eagerness Luis Cervantes does not transmit the order butundertakes the task in person.
Two hours later when the city square was black with smoke and enormoustongues of fire rose from Monico's house, no one could account for thestrange behavior of the general.