Сердца трех / Hearts of three. Уровень 3

“He is the honorable Senor Mariano Vercara e Hijos[36 - Mariano Vercara e Hijos – Мариано Веркара-и-Ихос], Jefe Politico of San Antonio,” Torres replied.

“Good night,” Francis laughed. “But I am only a passenger. You must talk to the Captain.”

“You are wanted[37 - you are wanted – вас разыскивают] for the murder of Alfaro Solano,” was Torres’ answer. “You didn’t fool me, Henry Morgan. And you are the murderer. I know that some one else. His name is Francis Morgan, and he is not a murderer, but a gentleman.”

“Oh!” Francis exclaimed. “But you recognized me, Senor Torres!”

“I was fooled,” Torres admitted sadly. “But only for a moment. Will you come with us?”

“Yes,” Francis answered. “I suppose you’ll hang me at daybreak.”

“Justice is swift in Panama,” the Jefe Politico replied. “We will not hang you at daybreak. Ten o’clock in the morning is more comfortable, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Francis retorted. “Eleven or twelve.”

“You will come with us, Senor,” Mariano Vercara e Hijos said. “Take his weapons.”

Francis found himself in a cell with walls five feet thick. It was half past eight in the evening. The trial began at eight. The execution was scheduled at ten next morning.

“The Jefe was right,” Francis acknowledged to himself. “Panama justice moves swiftly.”

The letter given him by Leoncia and addressed to Henry Morgan damned him. The rest was easy. Half a dozen witnesses identified him as the murderer. The Jefe Politico himself so testified. Torres was in love with Leoncia, and his jealousy knew no limits.

Leoncia was sobbing on his shoulder, in his arms: “It is a cursed country, a cursed country.”

Francis remembered Henry, in his canvas pants, bare-footed, under his sombrero.

“They just knew I was guilty and wanted to punish me. Why delay? They knew Henry Morgan had killed Alfaro. They knew I was Henry Morgan,” he said

She was in his arms, her lips raised to his; and his own lips to hers.

“I love you, I love you,” she whispered.

“No, no,” he said. “Henry and I are too alike. It is Henry you love, and I am not Henry.”

She drew Henry’s ring from her finger, and threw it on the floor. Francis slipped Henry’s ring back on her finger and kissed her hand. When she passed out the door she turned and whispered:

“I love you.”

At ten o’clock they brought Francis to the gallows. All San Antonio was present, including Leoncia, Enrico Solano, and his five tall sons. In vain Leoncia’s father and brothers protested that Francis was not the man. The Jefe Politico smiled.

They had tied Francis’ legs, and were tying his arms, when the voice of a singer was heard. Henry Morgan was entering. He pushed aside the guards at the gate.

The Jefe shrugged his shoulders and announced that he was ready to hang both men. But Francis, from the scaffold, shouted:

“You cannot hang a man without trial! He must have his trial!”

And when Francis had descended from the scaffold, the Comisario, with the Jefe, arrested Henry Morgan for the murder of Alfaro Solano.

Chapter IV

“We must work quickly,” Francis said to the Solanos.

“We must save him!” Leoncia cried out.

“All Gringos look alike to the Jefe,” Francis said. She was splendidly beautiful and wonderful, he thought. “We must get him out tonight.”

“Now listen,” Leoncia said. “We Solanos cannot permit this… this execution. Our pride… our honor. We cannot permit it. Father, suggest something.”

And while Enrico Solano and his sons talked plans and projects, a house servant came, whispered in Leoncia’s ear, and led her away.

Around the corner, Alvarez Torres greeted her, bowed low with a sombrero in hand.

“The trial is over, Leoncia,” he said softly. “Tomorrow at ten o’clock is the time. It is all very sad, most very sad. He was an honorable man. His one fault was his temper.”

“He never killed my uncle!” Leoncia cried.

“And it is regrettable,” Torres said gently and sadly, avoiding any disagreement. “The judge, the people, the Jefe Politico, unfortunately, all believe that he did. But I came to offer my service. You may command. Speak. I am your slave.”

He dropped suddenly and gracefully on one knee before her. He caught her hand.

“I knew you when you were small, Leoncia, and I loved you always. No, listen! Please. My heart must speak. I have been patient. I was silent.”

She listened patiently. Henry… And Francis… Why is this Gringo in her heart? Was she a wanton? One man or another? Or any man? No! No! She was not unfaithful. And yet?… Perhaps it was because Francis and Henry were so much alike. Her poor woman’s heart couldn’t distinguish between them. And she could follow Henry anywhere over the world, but now she is ready to follow Francis even farther. She loved Henry. But she loved Francis, too. There was a difference in her love for the two men.

Torres continued:

“Oh, Leoncia! I have dreamed of you… and for you. You are the Queen of my Dreams. And you will marry me, my Leoncia! We will forget this mad Gringo. I shall be gentle, kind. I shall love you always. He won’t stand between us.”

Leoncia was silent. How to save Henry?

“Speak!” Torres urged.

“Hush! Hush!” she said softly. “How can I listen to you, when the man I loved is yet alive?”

Loved! The past tense of it! She said “loved”. She loved him, but no longer. Torres was glad. The one thing is clear: if he wants to win Leoncia quickly, Henry Morgan must die quickly.

“Come,” she said. “We will join the others. They are planning now, or trying to find some plan, to save Henry Morgan.”

“I have a plan,” Torres began. He smiled, and twisted his mustache. “There is one way, and it is simple. That is just what it is. We will go and take Henry out of jail in brutal and direct fashion. It is the one thing they will not expect. Therefore, it will succeed. There are enough rascals on the beach with which we can storm the jail. Hire them, pay them well, and that’s all!”

Leoncia nodded. Old Enrico’s eyes flashed. And all looked to Francis for his opinion or agreement. He shook his head slowly.

“That way is hopeless,” he said. “Why will you risk your necks in a mad attempt like that?”

“You mean you doubt me?” Torres bristled. “Solanos are my oldest and most honored friends.”

Old Enrico began to speak.