The next move in her plan did not come easily to a girl of Belle’s upbringing, but she went through with it just the same.
Entering the room, she crossed to the windows and stood where she might be seen yet give the impression that she was trying to avoid letting it happen. At that distance she could only make out a vague shape with the naked eye, but knew a telescope would reveal more. If the Yankees were doing their work properly, one of them ought to have spotted her by that time. So she turned and walked across to where her trunks stood at the end of the bed. Looking back, she could still see the windows of the other house and knew she would be just as visible through the telescopes of the Yankee observers.
“In which case, you’re going to see a lot of me,” she thought, opening one of the trunks to take out her shirt, riding breeches, boots, gunbelt and other clothing. “I hope your eye-balls bulge out so far they stick in the telescopes.”
After which sentiment, she stripped off the Mexican clothing, standing where the men across the street could see her through the window. With any amount of luck they were watching, maybe even passing word for their less fortunate colleagues to come and enjoy the view. When sure that she had given the watchers enough time, she slipped on a robe and sat down to wait until told her bath was ready. By all fair means, her presence at the consulate should be well established already. However she must make certain and continue to let herself be seen around the house.
The Confederate chemist’s claims about his skin-dye proved to be true, for it came off in the bath and left Belle looking her usual self. Returning to her room, she repeated the process of cautiously letting herself be seen at the window, then returned to the end of the bed and dressed in her male clothing. If the Yankees across the street had seen her the first time, she dare bet they were watching in the hope of another view. Which meant they would notice the change in her skin’s colour and be even more certain that the Rebel Spy was back.
After an absence of almost two hours, Shafto retutned with the required purchases. He delivered them to the girl and found that they met with her approval.
“Did you have any trouble?” she asked.
“Not much,” Shafto answered. “We picked up a Yankee outside the house and he followed me when we split up. But I lost him before I went near the store to buy the clothes. He was lucky, that Yankee.”
“Why?”
“If he’d gone after the Kid, I don’t think he’d’ve come back. Those Ysabels play the game for keeps.”
“I can imagine they would,” Belle smiled grimly. “That boy scares me.”
“That boy scares a whole heap of grown men along the border,” Shafto told her. “I went down to the waterfront to see what’s happening across the bay and have word sent to Colonel Ford, asking him not to make any moves against the Yankees tonight if he could avoid it.”
Belle nodded in satisfied agreement. Despite his failure to locate the two men in the garden, she knew Shafto to be a shrewd, capable agent. Only the fact that he could not be spared from his work in Matamoros, and his absence would probably be noticed, had prevented him from being assigned the task of delivering the money to General Klatwitter. Many men in Shafto’s position would have protested, maybe even have acted in a sulky, uncooperative manner under the same circumstances. He not only gave the girl every aid, but showed himself capable of acting on his own behalf when a forgotten point arose.
Across the Rio Grande, Colonel ‘Rip’ Ford commanded a small force trying to retake Brownsville from the Yankees. Trained in Indian warfare, Ford wore down the superior enemy strength by raids, alarms and darting attacks. If he should launch one that night, the Yankee ships would be on the alert; far more so than might be the case otherwise.
“Will Colonel Ford cooperate?” she asked.
“He
Learning to Kill: Stories