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The matter ended with Laguerre's locking up Garcia's soldiers with our prisoners-of-war in the yard barracks, where they sang and shouted and fought until they were exhausted and went to sleep.
But the voice I knew best of all called my name from just above my head, and I looked up and saw Laguerre with Aiken and Webster on the iron balcony of the palace. Laguerre's face was white and set. "Captain Macklin!" he cried. "What does this mean? Obey your orders. You have my orders. Obey my orders." "I can't," I cried. "This is an attack upon you! They will kill you!"
"No, it's an old fight," said Aiken, "and Laguerre's stealing the Nancy Miller was only a part of it. The fight began between Garcia and the Isthmian Line when Garcia became president. He tried to collect some money from the Isthmian Line, and old man Fiske threw him out of the palace and made Alvarez president."
Men were sleeping in the grass or sitting in the shade of the shelters, cleaning accoutrements, and some were washing clothes in the stream. At the foot of the hill was a tent, and ranged before it two Gatling guns strapped in their canvas jackets. I saw that I had at last reached my destination. This was the camp of the filibusters. These were the soldiers of Laguerre's Foreign Legion.
The silver had been given to Mademoiselle Laguerre by Bouret. It was a magnificent service made by the famous Germain, and Madame Soudry had literally stolen it. At Mademoiselle Laguerre's death she merely took it into her own room, and the heirs, who knew nothing of the value of their inheritance, never claimed it.
"By whose authority?" he asked. We, who knew every tone of his voice, almost felt sorry for Aiken. "By whose authority," Laguerre repeated, "did you communicate with the enemy?" "It was an idea of my own," Aiken answered simply. "I was afraid if I told you you would interfere. Oh! I'm no soldier," he said. He was replying to the look in Laguerre's face.
That was the charm of Hopkinson Smith's sketch, "A Day at Laguerre's"; and an English writer who calls himself "A Son of the Marshes" has written a delightful book of interviews with birds and other wild things, which bears the attractive title, "Within an Hour of London Town."
I shall have a trunk filled, like that of General Laguerre's, with commissions, brevets, and patents of nobility, picked up in many queer courts, in many queer corners of the globe.
In the first place, he had so long had possession of the money extorted from Mademoiselle Laguerre's farmers through fear, and paid in assignats, that he regarded it as legitimately acquired. It was a mere matter of exchange. He thought that in the end he should have quite as much risk with coin as with paper. Besides, legally, Mademoiselle had no right to receive any payment except in assignats.
The house of Madame Soudry for the powerful individuality of Mademoiselle Laguerre's former waiting-maid took the lead of her husband in the community was modern, having been built by a rich wine-merchant, born in Soulanges, who, after making his money in Paris, returned there in 1793 to buy wheat for his native town.
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