The Press., 1898-07-21
A SACRIFICE.

A SACRIFICE.
 It was very quiet, very tranquil, in the barracks that day, and from the de- serted grounds. where only solitary sentry or two paced up and down, none of the usual barrack room talk, laugh ter or singing could be heard, for every soldier, bandman and officer had been called to the officers police quar- ters, where a fellow soldier was being tried for his life by the court martial.
 No women were present in the grim. tortresslike quarters-only the soldiers stood in silent, stern rows around the room. On the dais sat the colonel, the mayor and some lesser officers; fronting them, straight and erect, with shoulders thrown back, stood the pris- oner, Santiago Morena. He was 8 good looking fellow, and the star on his uni form lapel showed that he had received credit "for valor in the field.'' Not 6 flicker of an eyelid, not a movement, showed what he felt. There was not even a tremor when the colonel, after long and grave discussion, at the last stood up, with the other officers grouped about him, and pronounced the sentence of death-"that on the morning of the following day Private Santiago Moreno would be escorted to the plains of San Geronimo and there be put by the ley de fuga to death." That was all. The prisoner drew himself up and saluted, his face no more concerned than that of the men about him, and was taken to his cell.
 The soldiers melted away group by group, some of them displaying sorrow, some unconcern and others anger, for the slaying of his companion in arms by Private Moreno had been a very cold blooded and more than usually wicked deed, even in 8 country where wicked deeds are common. For with deliberate intention Moreno had waited for the other, after parting with his sweetheart, Panohita, and ooolly and methodically bored 8 dagger straight to his heart. For 1t he had offered no excuse or de- fense, stating merely that the murdered soldier had "annoyed Panchita :" that 8 "caballero cannot allow such thing as the molesting of his novia.'
 In his small stone cell Private More uo W0AnOu 0bOuus wA46bAAA8 a 8hy 44OA~ ican danza, hunting the while for writ ing materials. He wanted to write adios to his sweetheart, he stated lightly to the warden, who was eying him warily. one hand on his pistol. Though Moreno might not be armed he was a man to be watched. But at the prisoners wish to write a note to Panchita the warder's s face relaxed and he offered to find pen- oil and paper. For Panchita was his own cousin, and every one loved the gay, pretty girl, with her artless, inno- cent ways that had lured two men on to death.
 Poor little Panchitai Five minutes after the death sentence had been pro- nounoed she knew of it. and, her door locked. was lying face downward on the cold stone floor, moaning and cry ing to the Virgin for help. It had all been her fault, as she knew-through her two men would go to purgatory, and how would she answer for them?
 On the shrine before her. decked out in blue and white, was tiny, yellowed image of the Christ, with blood stained body and hands. Underneath him hung the holy pictured face of the Virgin, and to the two, Panchita, weak and faint from long fasting and crying, was pouring out heart and soul. Only that Santiago-her Santiago-mightb be saved somehow-in some way. Too weak to pray aloud, she had crawled before the shrine and with burning, tear covered face was whispering her petitions.
 There was 8 sudden chatter without, and Panchita, going to a window, saw the good Padre Francisco, on his pacing mare, turn the corner and go rapidly down the street. Panchita thought duly that some one at the pulque hacienda of San Juan must be very i'll and want ed the padre for confession. It would be @ long ride for the good old man, be- cause San Juan was many miles away. He would be absent for over a day. Perhaps, if she asked her father, he would allow her to take the cloak that had belonged to her uncle, a priest oi the same order as Padse Francisco. And the hood that the padre wore. covering his head and nearly all his face-waf ever anything seen like it? 5.E e= The next moment she was weeping her heart out, pressing passionate kisses on the cold feet of the ivory Christ. He had heard her. after all, and the Virgin had helped her-interceded for herl At 6 o'clock that evening the soldier on guard before Santiago's door admit ted without question the thin, stopped form of Padre Francisco. cloaked and hooded in his usual manner and carry- ing prayer books and rosary. The good father was silently telling his beads, and the soldier bowed humbly and crossed himself as he opened the door, speaking no word. For no Catholic is privileged to address a priest who is counting his rosary beads.
 The cell door opened and closed si- lently after the padre, and the watchers outside heard smothered, impatient ejaculation from Private Moreno, who was smoking a cigarette and trying hard to write that adios to Panchita. Then the door was locked, for the padre was going to confess the prisoner, and the guards retired. laughing at the idea of confession for Santiago-the wickedest dog in the army of Mexico
 Lounging in the doorway, the soldiers gpeculated lazily as to what was going on in the condemned cell, it was so quiet. Not even 6 murmur could be heard, and finally the men agreed that the padre was praying silently, with Santiago cursing in the other corner of the room.
 It was dark-quite dark-when Padre Francisco came out, with head bowed lower than ever, cloak wrapped discon. solately about him and fingers still Il telling his beads. He had been there fol m hours and surely Santiago was either