Rope's End Page #5

"Rope's End" by Rex Ellingwood Beach is a gripping adventure novel set in the rugged landscape of the American West. The story follows the life of a resourceful and determined protagonist as he navigates the challenges of survival and the complexities of human relationships amidst the backdrop of a harsh and unforgiving environment. With themes of resilience, loyalty, and the quest for identity, Beach's vivid prose brings to life the struggles and triumphs of those who inhabit this wild frontier. The novel captures the spirit of adventure and the human condition, making it a compelling read for fans of classic Western literature.

• Short story

								

time, but now it was parrot-green; his epaulettes were broader, the
golden braid and dangling loops were heavier, and he was fat from easy
living. With age and power he had coarsened, but his eyes were still
bloodshot and domineering.

"Captain Ruiz?" he inquired, pausing before the yellow man.

"Your Excellency!" Inocencio rose and saluted. The seaman's eyes were
smoldering, but his lips were cold, for he felt the dread of
recognition.

Time, it seemed, had dulled the sharp outlines of Laguerre's memory as
it had changed the younger man's features, for he continued,
unsuspectingly:

"You are the agent of Monsieur Leblanc, I believe."

"The same."

"Good! Now these rifles--you have them near by?"

"Within gunshot, Excellency. They are in the harbor at this moment."

Laguerre's face lighted. "Ha! A man of business, this Leblanc. You will
fix the price, as I understand it."

There followed a certain amount of bickering, during which the general
allowed himself to be worsted. He agreed weakly to Inocencio's terms,
having already decided to appropriate the God-sent cargo without
payment. The latter had counted upon this, and, moreover, he had
rightfully construed the light in those bloodshot eyes.

"Monsieur le Général must see these rifles for himself, to appreciate
them, and he must count them, too, else how can he know that I am not
deceiving him? We must observe caution, for there may be spies--"
Inocencio spoke craftily.

"Pah! Spies? In Jacmel?"

"Nevertheless, there is a gunboat in the harbor and she flies the flag
of the Republic. My skiff is waiting; we will slip out and back
again--in an hour the inspection will be completed. You must see those
rifles with your own eyes, Excellency. They are wonderful--the equal of
any in the world; no troops can stand before them. They are
magnificent."

"Come!" said Laguerre, rising.

"But alone!" Inocencio displayed a worthy circumspection. "This is
hazardous business. That war-ship with the flag of the Republic--my
employer is a man of reputation."

"Very well." Laguerre dismissed an aide who had remained at a distance
during the interview, and together the two set out.

"You arrived barely in time, for we march to-morrow," said the general;
"at least we march within the week. My defiance has gone forth. My
country cries for her defender. There will be bloody doings, for I tell
you the temper of the people is roused and they have no stomach for that
tyrant at Port au Prince."

"Bloody doings!" Inocencio smiled admiringly upon his companion. "And
who could cope with them better than yourself? You have a reputation,
Excellency. The name of Petithomme Laguerre is known, even in my
country."

"Indeed!" The black general's chest swelled.

"We have heroes of our own--men who have bathed in blood defending our
rights--but our soldiers are only soldiers, they are not statesmen. We
are not so fortunate as Hayti. We would welcome, we would idolize such a
one. Would that we had him; would that we boasted a--Petithomme
Laguerre."

The hearer was immensely gratified at this flattery and he straightened
himself pompously, saying:

"But we are favored by God, we Haytians, and we have bred a race of
giants. We have gained our proud position among the nations at the price
of blood. Believe me, we are not ordinary men. Our soldiers are braver
than lions, our armies are the admiration of the world, we have reached
that level for which God created us. It requires strong hands to guide
such a people. My country calls. I am her servant."

The moon was round and brilliant as they walked out upon the rotting
wharf--all wharves in Hayti are decayed--the night had grown still, and
through it came the gentle whisper of the tide, mingled with the babel
from the town. Land odors combined with the pungent stench of the harbor
in a scent which caused Inocencio's nostrils to quiver and memory to
gnaw at him. He cast a worried look skyward, and in his ungodly soul
prayed for wind, for a breeze, for a gentle zephyr which would put his
vengeance in his hands.

He had dropped anchor well offshore, hence the row was long, but as they
neared the Stella a breath came out of the open. It was hot, stifling,
as if a furnace door had opened, and the yellow man smiled grimly into
the night.

The crew were sleeping on the deck as the two came overside, but at
sight of that glittering apparition of green and gold they rubbed their
eyes open and stared in speechless amazement. They were reckless
fellows, fit for any enterprise, but Inocencio had learned to keep a
silent tongue, so they knew nothing of his present plans. They heard him
saying:

"Into the cabin, Monsieur le Général, if you will be so good. It is
dark, yes, but there will be a light presently, and then--a sight for
any soldier's eyes! Something that will gladden the heart of any
patriot!" They went below, leaving the sailors open-mouthed. "A
miserable place, Excellency," came the soft voice, "but the Cause! For
Hayti one would suffer--A match, if you will be so kind. The lamp is at
your hand." The skylight glowed a faint yellow, then was brightly
illuminated. "For Hayti one would endure--much."

There followed the sound of a blow, of a heavy fall, then a loud,
ferocious cry, and a subdued scuffling, during which the crew stared at
one another. The giant 'Bajan crept forward finally and was met by
Inocencio, emerging from the cabin. The captain was smiling, and he
carefully closed the hatch before he gave orders to make sail.

The breeze was faint, so the schooner gathered headway slowly, but as
the lights of Jacmel and of the anchored gunboat faded out astern
Inocencio sat upon the deck-house and drummed with his naked heels upon
the cabin wall. He lit one cigarette after another, and the helmsman saw
that he was laughing silently.

       *       *       *       *       *

Dawn broke in an explosion of many colors. The sun rushed up out of the
sea as if pursued; night fled, and in its place was a blistering day,
full grown. The breeze had died, however, and the Stella wallowed in a
glassy calm, her sails slatting, her booms creaking, her gear
complaining to the drunken roll. The slow swells heeled her first to one
side, then to the other, the decks grew burning hot; no faintest ripple
stirred the undulating surface of the Caribbean. Afar, the Haytian hills
wavered and danced through a veil of heat. The slender topmast described
long measured arcs across the sky, like a schoolmaster's pointer; from
its peak the halyards whipped and bellied.

"Captain!" The 'Bajan waited for recognition. "Captain!" Inocencio
looked up finally. "There--toward Jacmel--there is smoke. See! We have
been watching it."
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