Western liberal. (Lordsburg, N.M.) 1887-1919, 1895-01-04

"Moritasl' said Valgenod 1.-THE
roguel Tho day after my death 40 will
smuggle Madrid into Francs"
Moritas was a smuggler, as Valgenod
was a custom house officer, from tenn
permanent and instinct. It was his voca-
ton. Numerous wero the tricks that he
invented, tho schemes that he devised,
and he was never caught In the caves
Of the mountains were hidden bales Of
tobacco, cloths, skins, Spanish laces and
liquors In some way or another all this
merchandise was gradually struggled
into France, but how, no one, not even
Valgenod, know.
It wa the third day Of the epidemic,
just about twilight, that Valgenod,
scenting the winds and looking around,
saw a cart, drawn by q broken winded
mule, entering tho valley and going
straight toward the gates Of the town.
Behind came Meritas and o few i'll clad
fellows of his tribe, who woro singing
psalms in a harsh patoiR. Tho cart was
arailed one, and in spite Of the approach
ing darkness the sergeant made out the
long shape Of a coffin.
"Ah, " he moaned. There 10 snffer-
ing up there too. Honest people arc not
the only ones to die, I Sec"
He drew himself up to lot tho process
sion pass and gave tho military salute
"a corpse deserved such salute oven
though it was one Of those reprobates.
Before the walls Of tho custom houso,
Meritas, whose eyes cleaned like two
fires in his pale face, raised his long,
lean arms TO heaven and sobbed:
my wifei My wifol Ny wifel'
Poor old man., - said Valgenod, ard
no drew q match to light his pipe, for
he felt an unusual tenderness creeping
over him.
Two days later another procession
was seen winding around the mountain,
and Meritas was walking behind. This
time there were three collins in tho cart
"Well, now" thought Valgenod,
"theso cannot all be his. Perhaps it is q
subscription.
But the old smuggler was tearing his
beard and shrieking in broken tones at
the top Of his voice;
my sonsl My sonsl Who can givo
me back my sons?"
The sergeant saluted three times, and
the entire post, drawn out in line along
the open ~gratings uncovered piously
before the bitter grief Of the distracted
father.
Every evening at the setting Of the
sun a funeral procession passed through
the town, and Meritas invaribly formed
part of the cortege. He walked with a
friend on each side supporting him, call
ing aloud on God, blessing tho dead and
lamenting his fate. He buried in order
his wife, his sons, his daughters, his
nephcws, his cousins. One day he be-
sought Valgenod to kill him and end his
suffering.
He is getting silly, and there is
some reason for it" said tho sergeant,
Struggling his shoulders.
Finally, SO strong is pity, he felt his
former respect grow into love for his old
enemy.
These funerals continued for three
weeks. Then the people in the town be-
gan to wonder. Querterac awoke from
its stupor, and the epidemic seemed to
have disappeared. The deaths became
fewer and fewer; the windows were
opened; every N would have regain
ed confidence if it had not been for those
m%ournful professions that came down
every evening from above, a lamentable
proof hat the epidemic was still rag
ing, If not in the city, at any rate ia
the cutposts.
One evening-it was the last-threo
carts, as usual, were crossing the city
bridge. One of them, the foremost,
struck against q milestone. The mule.
backed, and the cart upset, throwing its
contents, two cofiEs, at the feet Of Val
genod In the fall the lid of one of the
collins fell of. Immediately Moritas
and all the mourners, spreading out
their arms like the wings Of birds. fed
to the mountains. Valgenod was aston
ished to see instead Of the corpse, before
which he wa already preparing to fec,
rolling between his legs four bales of
merchandise carefully marked
ITO arms, " he cried
The post ran up, but it was too late.
The smugglers had escaped The other
carts wero seized and the collins opened
They were all filed with merchandise.
Valgenod tore his hair.
This then was the key to the mystery,
the explanation of those numerous
deaths, Of those pious burials Not ono
of those 'rascals up above" had died
/ from cholera Meritas had not lost a
wife on sons, daghters Or cousins. All
the collins that had entered Querterac
and had been saluted by the custom
house officers had been loaded with
lace, liquors and tobacco. They had
been taken through tho deserted streets,
and the contents stored in a house at the
gates Of the cemetery. Whom tho house
was searched, it was empty. The mer-
chandise had been sent away every day
TO the large towns
The villagers smiled. Valgenod swore
that ia future he would refuse to pass
a skeleton unless he turned his pockets
inside out. Meritas disappeared -
Translated From the French of Maurice
Montigut For Short Stories.
Feeding oy ClOekwoTk.
We do so many things automatically