The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1931-10-16
CHAPTER II-Continued


1--WE go to La Guaira,' said Fran
cisco sOlemnly, land there, God will
ing, we join forces with Simon Boil
var, who will be, some day, the savior
of his country, just as your own
George Washington was'
"a thing" said l, (which / hope will
come to pass, for the western world
should be free of Spain. and will be.
some day, am sure That. however,
interests me less at this moment than
my safe return TO New Orleans. where
my father and my mother will be wait
ing for me-"
You think, then" Francisco urged.
'that, for certain compensation, you
could not add TO the experiences Of
your life by joining"
Compensation? My father, Senior,
is the richest man in the lower valley
What can campaign in Venezuela
add to my life? l have spent two
years with Gen. Andrew Jackson"
yet we cannot set you free, Senior,
you know too much"
You cannot hold me-"
Francisco smiled. 1--WE have ar
ranged it. You are mad violent in
sanity has possessed you, and the
good Doctor Santini, whom, in one of
your fits of madness, you have al
ready attacked, must attend you at all
times. We are taking you to your
home near Caracas"
'YOu have told the captain all that?"
"Assuredly; it was gentler by far
than dropping you into the river, for
our plans must not go astray."
Bah ~ cried. Suppose get word
TO the captain that the coils of tobac-
co conceal firearms, that the kegs of
tobacco are powder, that the corn con-
tains bullets, and that machetes may
be found in the pork?
Francisco laughed softly, while San
TIM swore out of the side of his
mouth. IF you managed to get such
word to Captain Alvarez, Senior, and
he should look and find nothing, he
will be assured that you are mad; if
he should find contraband he would
have NJ proof against US, for shipment
has been made in proper form from
Diego Martinez to another merchant
in Caracas. If the captain questions
our innocence, and even becomes so
suspicious as to confine us, pending ex-
animation at Caracas, there is yet
Manuel and the mixed crew of this
ship. We cannot do things by halves.
Only Spanish ships may trade with
Venezuela, therefore we put them to
our use"
1 marveled at the daring of the
thing, and marveling, was filled with
admiration. "Simon Bolivar must de-
pend upon you greatly, Senor," said.
Francisco bowed. HE has offered
me that signal honor, and you may
rest assured that nothing shall swerve
me from my service to him and. through
him, my service to Venezuela. One
life, Senior, or a score of lives, shall
not stand in my way. We brought you
alive to this ship instead of killing you
as we should have done because har.
bored faint hope that a man of your
courage might see his way clear to
aid us, but as you cannot offer service
/ shall see to it that you do not inter-
fere"
II think, of the two of us, Francisco.
the charge of madness should not be
laid against mel"
The days went by, slowly enough,
while the Santa Lucrecia SKINNED the
quiet waters of the Gulf, and my head
healed, and the face of Santini became
IocS lilo thar of 90
We touched at Vera Cruz, where a
letter l had written to my father and
mother was posted, letter telling
them that l had gone to Venezuela
with friends, and would return to New
Orleans at later date. This knew,
would relieve their worry over my
non-arrival from France.
At Coatzacoalcos, in the TRANQUIL
harbor of which we spent a night, the
willy Francisco offered me a chance to
escape, but, having experienced
change of heart, | refused to take ad-
vantage of it, for l had heard a voice
in the night-a voice as clear and as
pure as the note of a hooking bird.
1t brought back to me remembrance
VI al IhC lhe1u lhlhSS VI lldl WIFI
New Orleans night. That voice had
transformed the Santa Lucrecia from
a prison ship into paradise.
AS the days and nights went by l
listened for her footsteps on the after
deck; l pictured again and again the
exquisite face in it's frame of dark
curls, the soft curve of her cheek, the
sweetly pointed chin, and l lost N.Y.
self in the Unreasonable depths of
eyes That could change to purple the
silver glory of moonlight.
One night l heard her voice lifted
I'm an old French song that knew and
loved. and one that my mother used
to sing.
Francisco and Santini were out.
tried the door and found, to my great
surprise that it was unsecured. for
they had been in the habit of locking