tell us where weâre going?â Ellis asked him in Spanish.
âCertainly. Youâre on the way to the juzgado to stand trial for entering Spanish territory illegally. Itâs high time they took some action.â
In the courthouse they saw dignified, stem-looking Judge Pedro Galindo de Navarro, a handsome, gray-haired Spaniard leafing through a stack of papers on his desk. âThatâs the evidence against you,â the officer told them. âItâs taken Judge Galindo a month to read it all. But now heâs ready to announce his decision.â
The prisoners stood with hats in hands. It reminded Ellis of waiting for a teacher to decide whether or not to whip him. Don José DÃaz de Bustamante, the prosecutor, solemnly entered the room and stood to the right of the judge, who had risen to his feet. Don Pedro Ramón de Verea, the prisonersâ counsel, entered and stood at the judgeâs left, his face relaxed, almost smiling. I guess he figures he did all he could for us and is glad itâs over, Ellis thought. He wasnât prepared for what followed.
âI order all charges against the accused dismissed,â the judge said, âand I recommend their immediate release.â
The prisoners appeared at first unable to comprehend the verdict. Then it seemed as if heavy chains had been miraculously removed and they were floating on air. Ellisâ legs felt suddenly weak, but he smiled broadly. Freedom! He recommends that we be released! He glanced at Ephraim Blackburn and Joel Pierce, and saw tears streaming down their faces.
âI never had much confidence in Spanish justice,â Cooley exclaimed. âItâs slow, but I canât complain now.â
âThank God, thank God,â Blackburn said hoarsely. âI feared Iâd never see my loved ones again.â
âI doubt if my wife will even recognize me,â Joel Pierce said sadly. ââThey waited too lonâ Ellis looked at him and had to agree. Heâd never fully recovered his health and was gaunt-faced and pallid, obviously in bad shape. The scar on his pale cheek was an ugly purple line.
âI hope theyâll furnish us horses for the ride home,â Duncan said. âIâll walk if I have to, but they took our horses in Nacogdoches, so they owe us some.â
All of the prisoners remained at the barracks nights, for there was no reason that Fero and the others should return to San Carlos. All of them went from store to store during the days, buying a few extra garments for the journey home. Ellis felt like running around shouting, âWeâre free! Weâre free!â but managed to restrain himself. He saw Ephraim Blackburn, his thick hair white, looking more solemn than usual. Ellis smiled. âI thought youâd be celebrating like the rest of us,â he said.
âIâd like to,â Blackburn replied, âand I would if I could stop thinking about Joel. Heâs not well enough to travel, but heâs determined to go. Iâm afraid the trip will kill him, but we canât go off and leave him here alone.â Ellisâ smile faded. Heâd forgotten about Joel.
The next morning, a captain who had always been sympathetic to the prisoners called them together, and Ellis knew from his expression that he wasnât bringing good news. He cleared his throat.
âI regret to tell you that General Salcedo did not agree with Judge Galindoâs ruling and suspended it. He is sending the records to Spain and requesting the king to make a ruling.â Ellis listened but couldnât believe what he heard.
âGood God!â Zalmon Cooley exclaimed.
âThe Lord is my Shepherd,â Ephraim Blackburn intoned.
âSon-of-a-bitch!â Fero shouted. Ellisâ lips moved numbly, but no words came. If they want to torture us to death as painfully as possible, theyâre doing a good job of it, he thought. Despondently, he and