A FAIR PLOTTER.
Nina de Sutro went from the quarters of Colonel Dunwoody to her own
pleasant rooms in the house of Lieutenant-Colonel Ravel de Sutro.
She had an extended view of miles and miles of the superb scenery
visible from the fort. There was a large herd of cattle, guarded by
picturesque-looking cowboys in the distance.
A drove of horses were feeding a few miles away, and a couple of
troops were drilling down in the valley, and all preparing to cease
work as the day was closing.
In the plaza of the fort the band was playing, and upon the bluff
overhanging the river, officers, ladies and children were gathered
awaiting the time for parade, a spectacle which no one at the fort
ever cared to miss.
But upon this evening all these scenes and actions held no charm for
Nina de Sutro. She threw herself into a chair in front of the open
window in her sitting-room, and with her hand clasped over one knee,
a favorite attitude of hers in reverie, began to think.
“How can I save that man from the gallows?” at last burst from her
lips, and revealed what her thoughts were. “He must be saved, or he
will ruin me, for he will carry out his threat. I know that he will
show me no mercy; that he will not soften in his last moments, but
grow more revengeful, so he must never go to the gallows.
“Surely the devil is tempting me when I feel stealing into my brain
and heart the thought that if he were _poisoned_ it would be believed
that he committed suicide. The act would silence him forever, thus
keeping my secret and making me a widow by the same murderous deed.
No! no! I am not wicked, and what I did do wrong was not so intended,
for I became his wife, believing that he loved me.
“If I hate him now, and God knows that I have had cause, and love
another, has he not given me cause, and has not that other won me by
contrast in being so noble a specimen of true manhood? No, I will do
no wrong, for I am not wicked, and what I am he made me.
“But dare I lose the man I now love with all my heart and soul by
letting him know my secret? Dare I let that man come out upon the
gallows and name me as his wife? No, that cannot, shall not be, for I
will save him, though, until I know that he is dead I can never wed
the one I love. Yet how am I to do it?”
This question she could not answer. In thinking it all over her brow
grew clouded, her lips set sternly and she seemed as though plotting
some daring, desperate deed.
“I have no sympathy for him, so can only act from my own selfish
motives,” she said after a while. “I feel for him, yes, and as he
saved my life I should now save his. This should prompt me, too; but
can I save him and not compromise myself?”
Again she was lost in silent reverie for a long while, to at last
have her face light up as she sprung to her feet with the words:
“_Yes, I can do it, and I will._”
She paced up and down the room now in an excited manner, and then
said:
“Yes, at the masquerade, when I put on top-boots, a military cloak
and hat, and the false mustache and imperial every one took me for
Lieutenant Dade, who is just my size, and my chance to aid _his_
escape is to wait until the time when the lieutenant is to be
officer of the day.
“He can prove an alibi, and I will see to it that I do also, for it
can be done. I shall pray for rain on that night, and I can slip out
and search the cabin, pass the sentinel, call him into the cabin, and
cover him while the prisoner binds and gags him. Then, in a cowboy
suit I take him, he can leave the fort for the scouts’ quarters and
thus secure a horse and make his escape, for he will have a night’s
start.
“If he is captured then I cannot help it, and I can do no more. Of
course it will be thought that some one of the cowboys was the ally
of the outlaw, for he is said to have had spies at the post, and no
one will ever suspect me, for I shall so plan it that no suspicion
shall fall upon me.
“I can have the prisoner speak of me before the soldier as an ally
and one who has played the part of Lieutenant Dade to aid his escape,
and this will free the officer from all trouble. Yes, this must be my
plan, unless some better plot should come to me between now and that
awful day of execution.
“I will ask the general, when the courier comes back, to allow me to
see the prisoner and report that his letter was delivered, and then
I can tell him of my plot, and may the saints aid me in carrying it
out.”
The courier sent to Pocket City, with the letter from the condemned
prisoner to Bonnie Belle, returned in good time to the fort and
reported to the officer who had sent him there.
“I went to Pocket City, sir, and found that the lady had just started
East that morning on the coach.”
“Then you did not see her?” asked Lieutenant Turpin, the colonel’s
aide.
“Oh, yes, sir, for I followed and overtook the coach, and gave her
the letter.”
“And was an answer given you, Jack?”
“No letter, sir, only the lady told me to say that her answer was
simply:
“‘I will.’”
“Well, I’ll so report to the colonel.”
This the young officer did and Colonel Dunwoody at once sent for Nina
de Sutro.
She came to the headquarters and was told the report of the courier,
after which the colonel said, without her having to make the request
to see the outlaw again:
“Now, Miss Nina, will you be good enough to deliver this answer to
the prisoner, who I suppose will understand it, or shall I send word
by Lieutenant Turpin?”
“I will go, sir, but may I see the courier, so that I can fully
understand the report?”
“Certainly, I will have him sent to your quarters, so that you can
question him, and at your own pleasure you can send for the officer
of the day to escort you to the outlaw’s cabin.”
“I will see the courier upon my return home, sir,” was the answer,
and Nina de Sutro half an hour after saw Texas Jack enter the gate
and walk rapidly toward the quarters of Lieutenant-Colonel De Sutro.
She met the scout at the door, for she knew him well, and he bowed
courteously and said:
“I have orders to report to you here, Miss De Sutro.”
“Ah! it was you then, Texas Jack, who took the letter to Pocket City?”
“Yes, miss, I was the courier, for although it was to have been sent
by a cowboy it was decided that it would be best to have me go.”
“And you found the one to whom it was addressed at Pocket City?”
“No, miss, she had started East in the coach that morning, and so I
rode on and overtook her.”
“And her answer?”
“Was:
“‘Simply say that _I will_.’”
“What else?”
“Not a word, miss.”
“Who is she?”
“One of the handsomest ladies I ever saw.”
“A lady?” said Nina, with a sneer.
“Yes, indeed, Miss De Sutro, one of the noblest of her sex if only
half that is said of her goodness is true.”
“Yet she is the keeper of a border hotel and gambling-den?”
“True, miss, yet she’s a lady for all that.”
“Where was she going?”
“East, the driver told me, on a visit.”
“She did not turn back?”
“Oh, no, miss, she kept on in the coach.”
“And then?”
“She paid me most liberally, giving me fifty dollars, which I have
already handed in to the treasurer of the Scouts’ League, for aid to
our men when they are in distress and ill.”
“Just what I would expect of you, Texas Jack; but the prisoner asked
me to pay for the services of the courier.”
“Thank you, Miss De Sutro, but I made no charge for my services
in this matter, and I certainly would not take money from a man
under sentence of death, no matter what his crimes may have been,”
responded the scout.
“Well, Texas Jack, I can only thank you most kindly for the outlaw
prisoner.”
The scout now departed, and soon after Nina de Sutro sought the
officer of the day, and found that he had already received orders to
conduct her to the cabin of the prisoner. As before, the sentinel was
withdrawn out of hearing, and when the visitor entered, Silk Lasso
Sam arose to receive her.
“I have news for you,” she said coldly.
“Well?”
“The courier to Pocket City has returned.”
“Ah! and he found the one to whom I sent that letter?”
“Yes, he overtook her on her way East.”
“On her way East?” The man spoke with an anxiety of look and tone
which Nina de Sutro could not but observe.
“Yes.”
“Then she sent no answer to my letter?”
“She did.”
“Ha! and that answer was----”
“‘_I will._’”
“That answer was sufficient,” he said, in a voice full of relief.
“You are satisfied with it, then?”
“I am.”
“I do not understand it.”
“Nor is there need that you should do so.”
“Well, it is a matter of most perfect indifference to me; but I asked
to see you to-day, to deliver the message.”
“You are very kind.”
“That I might tell you of the plot I had formed to save you.”
“Say rather to prevent the exposure of the fact that you are my wife.”
“Well, have it any way you please, but I have hit upon a plan which
I hope will be successful, and I desire to make it known to you. If
anything better presents itself I will find a way to acquaint you
with the fact. Now hear my plan.”
She then told just what she had decided upon.
“It will do, I think; but, if you decide upon another let me know in
time,” said the man. “I shall need some money when I go, so do not
forget to bring it the night of my escape.”
And thus these two parted again.