FOR LOVE OR MONEY.

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 196, 19 August 1899, Page 6

FOR LOVE OR MONEY.

By ST. GEORGE BATKBORNE.

Author of "Doctor Jack," "A Fair Revolutionist," "A Sailor's Sweetheart," "A Chase for a Bride." CHAPTER XI. THE DANCE OP DEATH. It is sometimes possible to have too much of a good thing, and Jack was in a fair way to realise the truth of this axiom. The revolution having ended at sunset, and the defeated invaders of Gautarican territory being on the run for friendly hiding places upon neightouring soil, the capital was given over to a spasm of mad rejoicing, and every one, man, woman and child, seemed to believe it depended wholly upon their individual efforts to make the affair a success. For this night then San Jose was to be given up to merriment —bonfires and lights ruled the hour, feasts were prepared at which the g-ood citizens toasted the old government with, the same vim and vigour they would have shown toward the new, had Montejo's reactionary party succeeded in winning the clay, and chief of all, a grand ball was to be given upon the public plaza in honour of the victory. A row of stiff forms in the shadow of an outlying barracks told the tragic story of the day's work, but this was to be expected, since revolutions cannot be carried on without some loss of life. On with the dance, let joy be unconfined, is the motto they follow—■ to-morrow may bring its trembles, but ■why anticipate them—be merry while the night lasts. This aspect of the Central American character struck Overton even more forcibly than the peculiar tactics of the day's battle. As an artist he could appreciate anything1 that bordered upon the bizarre and remarkable, and hence quickly determined to accept the warm invitation of his friend, General Barrajo, to visit the public ball, in order to see still more of the singular habits and customs of this hot-blooded people with whom he had, at least for the time being, cast his fortunes. The general could not do too much to prove how he appreciated Jack's timely arrival upon the scene, when the three revolutionists were just about to wind up his mortal tallysheet, and he made many mysterious allusions to what he meant to accomplish later on in order to square the debt. Jack did not dream how badly he had put his foot in it when he thus took the liberty of rescuing the noble general. It was bound to have great influence upon his whole future —to prove the keystone that was to support thatwonderful arch, the magnificent proportions of which it had, never as yet entered into his mind to conceive. He accompanied Barrajo to the estrada in order to witness how the good people of San Jose enjoyed them►selves —indeed, the general would take no refusal even had he been inclined to raise a protest, which was far from his intention. Thus was Overton brought face to face with another element destined to exercise a great influence over his future — already had gentle woman played a prominent part m the drama of his existence, and Cupid had not ceased to consider him a factor in the gameThere are times in the lives of all men when they appear to be mere creatures of circumstances, buffeted upon a sea of chance, and yet upon looking back, one can say that all these events were not links in a chain that bound his fortunes, and the absence of any one would mean the wreck of his ship. Overton- found San Jose could outdo any modern city with which he was acquainted—that is for its size—when it came to making night hideous, and giving- up entirely to the work of 'painting1 the town red.' One might have thought a, second Waterloo had been fought and won, judging from the abandon with which the Gautaricans celebrated the trifling engagement recently on the hills. But it is all in the blood, and it comes as natural for these lovers of pleasure to take a holiday as for an Anglo-Saxon or Teuton to drive a bargain. Music throbbed upon the air from many quarters, but as the night wore on the open square in the centre of the city attracted the greatest crowd. Overton's first conviction was that they must be unusually fond of the native dance, but by degrees he discovered that the prime motive bringing most of these people hither was very much the same as the desire to see a bull fight or a cocking main— these public dances through Mexico and the republics of Central America rarely if ever come to a peaceful termination, and the average half-breed loves a brawl almost as keenly as the Tipperary Irishman, only the euchillo is used instead of a shillelagh. Wine and women —the same combination that has brought trouble upon wretched man since the world began—play, their little part in the entertainment. At least Jack solemnly vowed he would not take part in the dance, and though bright eyes mutely implored, he resisted their plea. He had a fair knowledge of Spanish and found it easy to converse with his friend the general, who, filled with deep gratitude for Jack's opportune assistance, would not leave his side. Again Overton's artistic temperament was aroused. He believed —indeed, he often swore the fact over and over again to himgelf—that his heart was dead so far as the fair sex was concerned —be that as it might, it formed no barrier to the instinct that bade him as an artist look a second and a third time at the queen of the dance, about whom the attention of the multitude seemed to .breathlessly centre. She was indeed a royal figure—Jack

could not ever remember seeing one that aroused in his breast so strong a desire for palette and canvas, unless it was a Spanish gypsy he had met in Madrid. In descanting1 upon a similar scene among the Jarochos of Mexico an inspired writer 'has given a pen picture that so covers the case that it will certainly be no sin to steal a little of his thunder in describing Dona Juanita, the belle of San Jose, for whose favour every young man in the Gautarican capital was eager to compete. She was a magnificent creature, this daughter of the south, of graceful mien and dazzling loveliness, formed in the most voluptuous mould of 1 berian beauty, whose complexion showed every violet vein through its veil of hiscious brown. Her hair was 'such as Athene herself might have envied' for tint, and mass, and ripple. Her eyes blazed like diamonds from a cavern, while her lips pouted of themselves, by habit, or nature into a perpetual kiss. She was attired in white semi-transparent muslin, through which every swell and turn of her shapely bust showed plainly, with bare arms, scantily adorned in the upper part by the lace and embroidery of her chemise. Her little feet, half concealed in shoes of shining satin, were more perfect than Aphrodite's, softer than a swan's bosom. Her black eyes, now flaming up proudly and coquettishly as she glanced at the spectators, again dropping under Ihe glances that were shot from all sides", permitted a view of the long silken lashes with which they were fringed. The excitement of the dance had called' the carmine into her cheeks until it put to blush the crimson flowers of the grenadine with which her black hair was wreathed. Tier eyes blazed with a fire bred of the fierce measures and the ardent passions of the tropics. More than once her dusky orbs met the admiring glance of the artist, and lie could see the invitation extended in the impassioned look she gave him, but each time he shook his head and smiled—the general had posted him as to the usual outcome of the dance, and he declined to be caught. The musicians, who had changed their time with every dance, or at the popular ,call, now struck up the lively preteneza. By this time the estrada was filled with dancers, and the excitement among the spectators, increased by frequent potations at the drinking booths, waxed more and more intense; seeming to centre about the figure of Dona Juanita. As the dance \vent t on, the crowd about the estrada resolved itself into two factions, each led by a richly dressed young patrician, both of whom were"evidently aspirants for the hand of the bewitching Circe. It was apparent at a glance that the adherents of both parties were animated not su much by admiration for their leader as by the hope that some contest might grow out of the jealous rivalry waged between them. To this end their words all tended. The musicians, urged on by the spirit of evil, or animated by the hope of a quarrel arising between the opposing factions, strummed their guitars with redoubled vigour, and filled the air with an infernal discord. The women dancing upon the estrada chattered among themselves, evidently jealous of the attention paid to Dona Juanita, the beautiful one, who, proud and palpitating, clearly felt the power which made her the beauty queen of the fiesta. The rival lovers, from their places on opposite sides of the estrada, scowled ominously, and spoke slightingly off each other's bravery and courage. Their adherents caught up the refrain until taunts and jeers were freely bandied between them. It was apparent that the storm was about to burst, when suddenly the music stopped, and there came a cry of: 'Chammara y Machete!' sash and sword.) .At the sound the men exchanged looks of evident satisfaction, and the women left the estrada, taking up, positions among the spectators. All left but Circe. That superb, self-con-(ained figure stood upon the hardstamped floor like a living Venus of Hushed bronze, her complexion heightened by the dance, her eyes gleaming tened by the dance, her bright eyes gleaming like o coal. Her tiny feet still kept in motion, though the dance had ceased, seeming to (await impatiently the beginning of the new measure. It soon came. As the musicians struck the first low wailing notes a shout of universal applause greeted the fair dancer. The curtain was rolling up on a new scene; comedy was about to give place to tragedy, and pit, boxes and gallery welcomed" the change. Slowly the mandolins sounded the measures of the dance, and with tranquil, almost hesitating steps the young girl interpreted the rhythm and time with her j tiny feet. Gradually the chords I quickened and became livelier, and [ the slow-moving Circe merged into a | radiant Terpsichore. Her eyes, hitherjto bent timidly upon the floor, were ! now proudly raised and swept the I crowd, with half coquettish, half in- | quiring glances. They seemed to say: ! 'Are there none brave enough to risk j being my partner?' I One of the young fellows thus inter- ! preting the look, and perhaps eager to ! show his courage, quickly advanced to I the strada, and, uncovering, presentled his gay sombrero with its garni! ture of silver and Jace for the acoept- ! ance of the bewitching dancer. Eeeeiving it with a 5-mile, without paus- ; ing for an instant m the evolutions ', in which shs was ensxis>"ed, she nlaced |it coquettishly upon her head at such ' a slant as to show advantageously I the magnificent pile of purple black hair beneath it. A prolonged viva greeted this act so gracefully done, j while the pleased gallant, who had ; thus been conceded the floor, placed himself opposite to her and joined in I the dance. Bearing much general resemblance to the quadrille, the dance was more suggestive, pourtraying the different phases of lore, courtship, and coquetry, in a manner calculated to ' excite the jealousy of the other young men who looked on with sullen brows. It continued for a time, when, at the i cry 'Chammara!' by the spectators, ! the young gallant, bowing gracefully ito the girl, retired to give place to die second aspirant. Placing himself opposite Circe, the new partner went through the same series of evolutions as his predecessor, ending by unwinding the crimson China crape sash from his waist, which he fashioned into a rosette and hung from one of the bare shoulders of the girl. This act constituted a challenge to all comers, while by permitting it to remain the girl signified her acceptance of him until such time as another should present a better claim. It could only be answered in one way j —by the knife. j Upon the excited crowd a dead si- j : lence fell; but the experience of many such scenes told the musicians that

the time had come for warlike notes, and the jazacanas and mandolins were twanged with gTeater discord than ever. Dona Juanita danced on as if nothing had occuired to interrupt her terpsichorean enjoyment. Some singers improvised couplets calculated to deepen the jealousy of the rivals. j From the crowd arose the cry of 'Machete! machete!' and in prompt response the rival lover sprang into the estrada, and, with a graceful bow, presented himself to the girl. A slight nod told him that he, too, was welcome to the honour of bestowing his favours; and, drawing1 his long, glittering euchillo from its sheath, he suspended it by its bow of purple j ribbons from the right shoulder of the girl, already carrying the sash of his rival upon her left. A new pas de deux now began, carried on as before, though with'many extemporised variations. Though not a word was spoken, the dancers seemed to converse in a language perfectly understood by themselves and those around. It was a singular spectacle to see this young and beautiful girl dancing with the sash and sword of her lovers suspended from her bare shoulders. The keen, shining blade seemed to caress the soft bosom against which it lay. Every now and then a chorus of vivas and bravos greeted the execution of some more than usually difficult step, or suggestive figure. Suddenly a strident voice in the crowd shouted 'Bomba!' and the dance was at an end. The musicians, anxious for the safety of their instruments, hastened away. The women, too, now that the dancing was over, took themselves out of harm's way. The two factions, occupying opposite sides of the estrada, clamoured for the fight. Dona Juanita, proud and radiant, stood in the centre of the estrada awaiting the final ceremony with a tranquility which went far to prove her indifference to the claim of either aspirant. But the pledges were still to be redeemed, and, with a practical eye to the business features of the play, she waited with extended hand. The usual fee of each pledge is a silver half real, but the two gallants, advancing one after another, filled both her hands with silver coins, amid the murmurs of applause which such prodigality excited. The estrada was now cleared for the fight, which nothing could now avert. The sylvan temple, so lately the scene of gaiety and pleasure, was converted into a gladiatorial arena. Into its midst one of the gallants advanced, and, first tracing n rude circle in the hard-beat sand of the floor, planted his knife in its centre. The second promptly followed and placed his long blade close beside that of his rival, while both courteously uncovered. A polite altercation then ensued as to who should first place his hat upon his head, each claiming an honour which, granted by either, would make him the superior in point of courtesy. The difficulty was, however, decided by both j contestants covering at the same time, j The spectators were then relegated to the outside of the estrada, the combatants placed face to face, and the signal given. Overton looked to see what had become of the enchantress, biit she seemed to have disappeared, nor could he waste much time in the search, the arena proving an attraction no man had power to resist. The combatants stood each with his long blade grasped in his right hand, and with his left hand and arm wrapped in the folds of his manga by way of shield. At the word the combat began. The Gautaricans know nothing of scientific fencing, and rely wholly upon strength and agility of body. The blows were furiously given, but were far from dexterous. On both sides it was only a, series of quick thrusts and clumsy parries, of sudden lunges and hasty retreats. Their long knives struck one another with a metallic clang, or cut the air with a mournful sough. But there was a ferocity and determination about the men which resulted in much bloodshed and mutual hacking of flesh. They swayed to and fro upon the floor, the tumultuous crowd closing about them as they were successively displaced. Thus it continued for ten minutes, when, wounded and bleeding, both men came to the floor, and were carried off by their more intimate followers. The rest of the fiery young gallants crowded about the drinking stalls, and, as they swallowed deep draughts of Catalan brandy, congratulated themselves on having' had so splendid a fiesta as would furnish the subject of conversation for weeks to come. Jack had missed the general during the latter part of the exciting entertainment —once in glancing curiously around he fancied he had a glimpse of j the soldier's stout, medal burdened! figure bending over some fair one, but' the crowd surged between ere he could j make sure, nor did he bother his head j again about it, certain that the matter could not concern him—which proves how little we know what scope dcs- j tiny takes with relation to our individual affairs. It was when the barbarous duel in the public square«had been brought to ■ a termination the dance ended, the j musicians scattered and the great j throng of people broken up into scores ! of little groups, eagerly commenting , upon the astonishing ferocity and grit j shown by the two leading admirers j of the beautiful belle of San Jose, taking sides as their sympathies and inclination urged them, that Overton, indulging in a little bitter reflection regarding the evil that befalls man through his natural love for woman, ! felt a hand plucking his sleeve, and j knew from the whiff of villainous I tobacco smoke that his new Jonathan, ! the general, stood at his elbow, his ! face wreathed in smiles and his portly I frame swelling with the importance of the communication he bore. (To be continued.)