muttering Latin phrases. He gazed at his companions, his white hair crowning his somber face. âItâs better this way, my friends,â he said in a firm voice. âMy death should buy your freedom.â He started to go with the priests, but stopped and turned. âIf any of you ever get to Natchez,â he said, âtell my wife that I died, but donât tell her the circumstances.â Then he was gone. Ellis felt a lump rise in his throat.
Two days later, the prisoners were ordered to the Plaza de los Urangos, where a large crowd had already gathered. Ellis caught his breath as he saw the newly built gallows, with the hangmanâs noose swaying in the light breeze. His face was sweating, but he suddenly felt cold when he saw Blackburn calmly mount the scaffold and stand under the noose. A soldier blindfolded him, then placed the halter over his head and tightened it around his neck. Ellis felt his skin crawl when he heard the roll of drums and Blackburn shot through the trap. A knot settled in Ellisâ stomach, while he brushed away tears that streamed down his cheeks.
Three days later, Fero, Cooley, Ellis, and Danlin, the ones whoâd been implicated in the plot to escape, were brought to the plaza. Tom House was too sick to move from his bed. Duncan saw a crowd gathering, and went to see what was happening. As he arrived, merchant Manuel Moreno was talking to Ellis.
âI have influential friends in Mexico City, my friend,â he said. âIâm certain they can secure your release once you get there. I will write them immediately.â
âMexico City?â Duncan exclaimed. âWhoâs goinâ there?â
Ellis nodded his head toward the other three prisoners. âThe bad boys,â he said. âThe troublemakers.â
The four prisoners were shackled and ordered to mount horses, then twenty-five cavalrymen surrounded them and they trotted away on the road to far-off Mexico City. Ellis glanced back at Duncan, wondering if theyâd ever meet again.
Chapter Three
At every town or village along the way, the cavalry stopped for a time in the plaza and allowed the prisoners to walk about in irons. Curious men, women, and children crowded around them, for theyâd never seen Americans. Women with shawls over their heads brought them bread and fruit, frowning and exclaiming over their shackles. â Pobrecitos ,â they lamented.
After weeks of steady riding, the travelers stopped for the night at the village of Salamanca. As usual, the prisoners were allowed to stretch their legs, and chattering people thronged around them. A well-dressed, attractive young woman watched Ellis for a time, then shyly approached him. âIs it your wish to escape, señor?' she whispered in Spanish.
Surprised, Ellis looked at her, then shrugged. âIt is,â he replied, âbut thatâs impossible. Theyâll find me again, and if they donât shoot me, theyâll make me pay one way or another. Iâll just have to take what comes.â
â No señor ,â she said softly, her dark eyes flashing, âit is possible. I will return soon, and you will see.â She hurried away.
âWho is that lady?â Ellis asked a portly villager, pointing at her. The man glanced at the retreating figure.
âThatâs MarÃa Baldonado,â he replied. âBecause of her beauty a rich old hacendado married her not long ago. I donât know how many haciendas he owns, but more than enough.â
Ellis stretched out on his mat, thinking about what sheâd said, ignoring the curious people who came to stare at him. Maria returned shortly before sundown, followed by a tall dark-skinned man in a long blue cloak. She pushed her way through the crowd and knelt by Ellis. The tall man stood behind her, arms folded across his chest, staring off in the distance.
âHe has files for cutting your shackles,â she whispered. âYou
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