“Address not me in this imperative manner, sir officer!” exclaimed the Juez, his anger blazing out afresh. “Do you imagine, sir, that I have no private interests; that the State feeds and clothes my wife and children? No, sir, I am the servant of the republic, not the slave; and I beg to remind you that official business must be transacted during the proper hours and at the proper place.”
“Sir Juez,” said the officer, “it is my opinion that a civil magistrate ought never to have any part in matters which more properly come under the military authorities. However, since these things are differently arranged, and I am compelled to come with my reports to you in the first place, I am only here to know, without entering into any discussion concerning your position in the republic, what is to be done with these two prisoners I have brought before you.”
“Done with them! Send them to the devil! cut their throats; let them go; do what you like, since you are responsible, not I. And be sure, sir officer, I shall not fail to report your insubordinate language to your superiors.”
“Your threats do not alarm me,” said the officer; “for one cannot be guilty of insubordination towards a person one is not bound to obey. And now, sirs,” he added, turning to us, “I have been advised to release you; you are free to continue your journey.”
Marcos rose with alacrity.
“Man, sit down!” yelled the irate magistrate, and poor Marcos, thoroughly crestfallen, sat down again. “Sir Lieutenant,” continued the fierce old man, “you are dismissed from further attendance here. The republic you profess to serve would perhaps be just as well off without your valuable aid. Go, sir, to attend to your private affairs, and leave your men here to execute my commands.”
The officer rose, and, having made a profound and sarcastic bow, turned on his heel and left the room.
“Take these two prisoners to the stocks,” continued the little despot. “I will examine them tomorrow.”
Marcos was first marched out of the room by two of the soldiers; for it happened that an outhouse on the place was provided with the usual wooden arrangement to make captives secure for the night. But when the other men took me by the arms, I recovered from the astonishment the magistrate’s order had produced in me, and shook them roughly aside. “Señor Juez,” I said, addressing him, “let me beg you to consider what you are doing. Surely my accent is enough to satisfy any reasonable person that I am not a native of this country. I am willing to remain in your custody, or to go wherever you like to send me; but your men shall tear me to pieces before making me suffer the indignity of the stocks. If you maltreat me in any way, I warn you that the government you serve will only censure, and perhaps ruin you, for your imprudent zeal.”
Before he could reply, his fat spouse, who had apparently taken a great fancy to me, interposed on my behalf, and persuaded the little savage to spare me.
“Very well,” he said, “consider yourself a guest in my house for the present; if you are telling the truth about yourself, a day’s detention cannot hurt you.”
I was then conducted by my kind intercessor into the kitchen, where we all sat down to partake of maté and talk ourselves into good humour.
I began to feel rather sorry for poor Marcos, for even a worthless vagabond, such as he appeared to be, becomes an object of compassion when misfortune overtakes him, and I asked permission to see him. This was readily granted. I found him confined in a large empty room built apart from the house; he had been provided with a maté-cup and a kettle of hot water, and was sipping his bitter beverage with an air of stoical indifference. His legs, confined in the stocks, were thrust straight out before him; but I suppose he was accustomed to uncomfortable positions, for he did not seem to mind it much. After sympathising with him in a general way, I asked him whether he could really sleep in that position.
“No,” he replied, with indifference. “But, do you know, I do not mind about being taken. They will send me to the comandancia, I suppose, and after a few days liberate me. I am a good workman on horseback, and there will not be wanting some estanciero in need of hands to get me out. Will you do me one small service, friend, before you go to your bed?”
“Yes, certainly, if I can,” I answered.
He laughed slightly and looked at me with a strange, keen glitter in his eyes; then, taking my hand, he gave it a powerful grip. “No, no, my friend, I am not going to trouble you to do anything for me,” he said. “I have the devil’s temper, and today, in a moment of rage, I insulted you. It therefore surprised me when you came here and spoke kindly to me. I desired to know whether that feeling was only on the surface; since the men one meets with are often like horned cattle. When one falls, his companions of the pasture-ground remember only his past offences, and make haste to gore him.”
His manner surprised me; he did not now seem like the Marcos Marcó I had travelled with that day. Touched with his words, I sat down on the stocks facing him, and begged him to tell me what I could do for him.
“Well, friend,” said he, “you see the stocks are fastened with a padlock. If you will get the key,
