CHAPTER XVIII.

THE FLIGHT OF CATALINA’S SOUL. Three weeks have passed since the city of Chihuahua was shaken to its foundation by the suicide (the masses knew no other term by which to call the act which had caused their soul’s flight) of three people whose names had grown to be household words. And while their ebonized bodies were thought to be grewsome by many, a greater part of the town had become exceedingly scientific in thought, and they looked upon them as the natural result of taking Ebony Fluid. The revolutionists who had attempted the life of the Governor were yet confined behind the bars. No conclusion had been reached as to what disposition should be made of them. The government of the State of Chihuahua was strictly opposed to capital punishment, as well as very reluctant in imposing a life sentence upon anyone, no matter of what great crime he had been convicted. The small revolutionary faction had grown into a large army of rebellion and was now, according to the best authority, marching onto the National capital. The leaders of the dogmatic teachings of the churches and their followers were determined, if bloodshed could do it, to put a stop to the heretical teachings of the great scientists. They had opened up the battle; no free-thought person, or scientific investigator had expressed himself against the great army of parasites, except in words of the greatest sympathy. Julio Murillo was now able to be around in an easy-chair, which was propelled by an automaton. The President of the United States made no move, without first consulting him, the great seer of Chihuahua, as he was now called. A presidential campaign was another theme for discussion, and was the cause of many sleepless nights for the regular “pullers” of the two main political parties. The Governor of Chihuahua, and his friend, were the least concerned, perhaps, of any men in the United States holding high offices, about the result of the presidential campaign. They were more interested in the cause of humanity at large; in developing in the heart of each a desire to come in touch with Nature, with God. At an early stage of the presidential campaign, the party who ran in the “stray horse,” as President Mortingo was called by the two great political parties, were so delighted with his _régime_, in which there had been but little intriguing; a rule which had become known throughout the universe for its aid in extending, financially and legislatively, scientific investigations, particularly those which he believed would assist man in freeing himself from the heavy chains which held him to his physical environments, and they were determined to reelect him, if no man of superior ability could be found. Since the fame of the great Governor of Chihuahua had traveled throughout the continent of America, and hundreds rose up to give testimony to the effect of “Memory Fluid” upon them and the power it had of bringing man in touch with God, the party which had caused the election of President Mortingo, turned its eyes upon Governor Lehumada as its choice for the next President of the United States. During the last few days he had been solicited by the new party which, as if by magic, had grown to be of great power, for his consent to allow his name to be used as a candidate for the presidency of the United States of America. After several hours of consultation with Julio Murillo, Miss Hinckley, Guillermo Gonzales and the state officers, he left the matter entirely in the hands of Julio Murillo, at the suggestion of his dearly beloved _fiancée_, Helen Hinckley. Señor Julio sent word to the party which had done the Governor of Chihuahua the greatest honor they could offer, from a worldly point of view, that he wished to wait thirty days, that the fulfillment of his prophecies could be manifested, before making a decision for or against the Governor’s name being used in the present presidential campaign as a candidate for the office. The public fumed and growled at the delay; yet it was the inevitable, and there was but one thing to do; to wait. The party who wished his nomination knew there was some good reason why the delay was thought necessary, and were satisfied, believing the answer would be in favor of their cause, and at the end of the campaign their candidate would bear the laurels. In one of the revolutionary speeches made by the late Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir, as he styled himself with pride, he laid special stress upon the statement that not since Mexico became a part of the great United States of America, had a man of purely Mexican origin been at the head of the nation. He claimed that the prejudices the Anglo-Saxon race had against the Latin races—particularly those of Spanish and Indian origin—were the cause of their great men being kept in the background. He even claimed that many of the best people of Anglo-Saxon origin objected strongly to the mixing of the blood by marriage. If such had ever been the state of feeling, the fact that a strongly Anglo-Saxon faction now wished to elect Señor Don Miguel Lehumada, the present Governor of the great and famous State of Chihuahua, a man through whose veins none but Latin blood had ever flowed, to the presidency of the United States of America, would forever stamp out the erroneous idea that any prejudices existed. Also a further proof of the fact was the marriage soon to take place between Governor Lehumada and Helen Hinckley, whose family had since time out of mind prided itself upon its royal Anglo-Saxon blood. What can more closely unite two nations than a marriage for love between them? The eyes of the whole world were centered upon these two people. Helen Hinckley was called the great heroine of the age, and the press never tired of lauding her bravery in saving the life of the great Governor of Chihuahua, even at the peril of her own life. That while she understood how to overcome the law of gravitation, so far as her own ability to propel herself through space was concerned, it was a noble deed for her to risk her own life in the way she did to save another. The rebels seemed to have flown from the town which was their starting point. The fate of their leaders, no doubt had a great effect in cooling the ardor of their revolutionary intentions. Chihuahua was possibly, so far as the rebellion was concerned, the most quiet capital in the Union. In many other respects it was the liveliest, and it certainly was the center of attraction of the scientific world, and the great Mecca to which all great thinkers were flocking, for whom it was possible to leave their business and homes. The great test case of “Memory Fluid,” which would be decided at the trial of the “Plunger from Kansas,” was causing an influx of legal talent as well as scientists, free-thinkers, and students of the occult. The fact that the Plunger had given himself into the hands of the law for the settlement of the crimes he committed in another life, when there was no civil law covering the case, was considered within itself sufficient proof of the value of “Memory Fluid” to science. The fear and trembling that took hold of some of the uninitiated when they thought that they might have been guilty of a crime in the past of which they now had no knowledge and for which they would be brought to the bar of justice, was certainly sufficient reason for their greatly disturbed minds. The large hotels in Chihuahua were fairly groaning under the burden of caring for such a great number of people which increased in number each day, all of whom were flocking to the city with the same object in view: That of hearing the trial of the most famous case in the annals of man. To see the man who confessed to the crime of which he was accused; to hear his testimony of having lived through at least three lives; to hear him confess to having known in lives gone by the very people who bore witness against him; to see the child, Catalina Martinet, who was conscious of having lived another life and the tomb where she was buried; the wonderful woman who had won the heart of the Governor—the woman who could suspend the law of gravitation at will; the men who had discovered “Liquid from the Sun’s Rays,” and to see the ebonized figures in the Museum, was certainly enough to draw the crowd that was gathering in the great city. The morning on which the trial would begin, dawned clear and cool. Long before nine o’clock, the hour for opening the court, the halls and rooms adjoining the great court-room were filled to overflowing. The statutes of the States of Chihuahua did not cover the hearing of such a case as the one about to be heard, but a recent special legislation did. Many of the legal fraternity were wondering if the case of “The Plunger from Kansas” would be the means of establishing a precedent which would make the special and temporary legislation, a general and permanent act of Congress in the near future. Judge Ulloa, of the Supreme bench of the State, was one of the most advanced thinkers of the age. His success as a lawyer had been nothing short of marvelous; at least that was the opinion of the public, but _he_ knew that his success was due to his knowledge of the “great powers that be.” The case in hand was to him a supreme moment, for by special legislation it came under his jurisdiction. It was generally known that President Mortingo believed implicitly in the scientific revelation of Governor Lehumada and his able coworkers. Arrangements had been perfected whereby the President of the United States, the cabinet, and many great legal minds, who were not able to be in attendance at the trial, could hear the testimony as it would be given in the Chihuahua court-room, by means of the soundcondenser, in their own private offices in Washington, New York, or whatever city in which they lived. When the great throng rushed into the court-room at the hour of opening, the accused and the prosecutors (the Governor, Miss Hinckley, Guillermo Gonzales and Julio Murillo), with their respective attorneys, were seated conspicuously near the judge, and all eyes were immediately centered upon them. For the benefit of the public, the great daily _Chihuahuan_ contained a plan of procedure which the court would follow in the case of the “Plunger from Kansas,” in that morning’s issue, and now officers distributed programs, which explained every step to be taken. It was a new order of things, but so far, it was exceedingly satisfactory to all concerned, and the public at large. The statement of the case was first called. The attorney representing the scientists from one point of view, and Miss Hinckley, who claimed to be one of the injured in the great cattle robbery which occurred nearly two centuries ago, from another point of view, arose and said: “Your Honors: The case for the hearing of which we have assembled to-day is one, as you know, of unusual occurrence, and is composed of such intricate features that the gross or impure element of humanity will look upon the testimony as out of the reason of man. But when all _understand_, the full force of the argument will be to them the most rational thing on earth. “There is a divine law which proceeds from the ‘powers that be,’ which says that there must be an adjustment of all evil; if not in the life in which the sin was committed, then it will be repaired in another one of the lives which each person will live, until all evil he has committed will be punished through self conviction. “In the case at hand, had it not been for the great discovery of ‘Memory Fluid’ by the three renowned scientists of our city, the ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ yonder, who committed the great cattle robbery in the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, would have escaped repairing the mischief he did then until another existence in the body. But when _memory_ was restored, and our renowned townsmen brought the influences of the ‘powers that be,’ which cannot be seen by the physical eye nor heard by the physical ear, to bear upon the Plunger, he first became uneasy, then a knowledge of his other lives dawned upon him. “At the first realization there was naturally a great shock experienced. Then came a desire to escape the ordeal which seemed to be first overtaking him, and the ‘Plunger from Kansas’ flitted hither and thither, trying to find a place where he would be contented. He came to Chihuahua, the very city to which he fled at the time in his previous life after he had committed the crime. “His presence here was an assistance in awakening memory. “After hearing the statements of various witnesses, we hope to close the case with a glorious victory in favor of the great spiritual life each could live, if he only _knew_,” concluded the prosecution. Catalina Martinet arose, when called to the stand, and when asked to tell all she knew about the “Plunger from Kansas,” said: “In that life gone by, of which you speak, I had the misfortune to be born not according to law. Ignorant of the cause of my birth, I lived the life of a happy child up to the age of tender girlhood, when I learned I was a child out of the pale of civil law; then my great pride was crushed, my heart was broken, and I passed away. I came again, however, and while I had the misfortune to be born into a family inharmonious, I am not an illegal child. I will leave again soon, and when I return I will be in the most harmonious condition for spiritual development.” “The child seems to wander in her thoughts,” said the judge to the Governor. “With your permission, I will speak to her,” said the Governor. The judge replied by an inclination of his head, and the Governor said: “Catalina, it is the story of the ‘Plunger from Kansas’ the court wishes to hear.” Catalina looked at the court dazed for a moment, then going to the Governor, placed her arms around him and said: “My papa, I was unhappy a moment ago; that is why I was telling of my misfortune. I will now tell all I know about the ‘Plunger from Kansas.’” Exclamations of surprise, disgust and pleasure were heard on every side, but when Catalina began to speak, everything was severely quiet again. In answer to the question from Miss Hinckley’s attorney: “Did you know the accused in a life gone by?” Catalina replied: “I did, your Honor.” “Then tell us all you know about him,” said the counsel. “One cold, rainy night, a cab drove up to our house. I heard it, and childlike I was anxious to know why such an unusual occurrence was happening. My mother opened the door, and Mr. J. Ecarg stepped into the room. He often came to our house, and when he did not have too much pulque he was pleasant. This night he had had much, and told my mother there were two men in the cab outside, and she must let them have the only room we had with a bed in it. My mother said she did not want them, and he told her not to be a fool; that they would stay anyway, and she would be well paid. They came. He did not give their names, but the fellow who was trembling and crying, he afterwards told my mother, was the ‘Plunger from Kansas’—that he was hiding from people in the United States, because he had stolen cattle from these people and sold them. Mr. Ecarg threatened my mother in various ways, if she ever told about the men being at her house, what she saw them do, or heard them say. They often had a Mexican lawyer and an interpreter; this lawyer knew everything and gave them advice. I was often in the room when he was there, playing with my dolls, and I heard all they said. The Plunger gave me _centavos_ often, and said he liked little girls. And he gave me these pictures; this one is of him; this his wife, and this his baby,” concluded Catalina, handing the pictures out to the attorney, and seating herself beside the Governor. From one to another of the legal profession on the rostrum the photographs were passed. The accused was then asked to take his place, and the attorney began a series of interrogations. “What is your name?” “I am called the ‘Plunger from Kansas.’” “Have you any knowledge of a previous life on earth?” “I have, your Honor.” “Did you ever see this picture before?” “It is myself, long ago, though not unlike me now.” “And this, and this?” continued the lawyer. “This,” exclaimed the Plunger, “is a splendid photograph of my wife of long ago! Poor woman, how she stayed by me during my trouble, until death claimed her as his own. Ah; and this is the child we loved and who never came again.” “Did you know the witness just on the stand?” asked the lawyer. “I did, she is Catalina Martinet, and the image of herself in the life gone by. J. Ecarg said, when he took me to her mother’s, the night she spoke of, that the child was his, and he helped to support the mother.” Mr. Niksab was the next witness called. He testified to his knowledge of the Plunger’s doings, his acquaintance with Catalina and her mother, and verified the statements previously made. J. Ecarg next took the stand. He said he was repenting in sackcloth and ashes for the many sins he committed in that life gone by. He said the good Governor would give testimony to the truth of his unholy conduct in that life long since passed, of his relations to Catalina’s mother, and his connection with the “Plunger from Kansas.” He said his time here was short, but in a future life on earth, he would live on a higher plane, because he _remembered_, and in consequence he would profit by his past varied and unhappy experiences. At the moment J. Ecarg took his seat, a messenger handed the Governor a note. After reading it, he passed it to the judge, and in turn it was passed to the lawyers on either side. After a brief consultation was held between the judge, the attorneys and the Governor, the lawyer for prosecution said: “Francisco de Urdiñola will now take the stand.” A tall, well built, dark-complexioned man, of commanding presence and delightful manners, took the stand. “Your name?” asked the court. “I am, your honor, Francisco de Urdiñola.” “What is your occupation, and where is your place of residence?” the court questioned. “I have the honor of being president of the school ‘For Hidden Thought,’ and my place of residence is Saltillo, the city in which this school is situated,” quietly replied the distinguished man. “Do you know the accused?” asked the court. “The ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ to whom you refer, I have no acquaintance with now.” “Did you in a life gone by; if so, tell the full circumstances.” The stately man bowed and said: “The court will grant me a few moments to explain my position in a life previous to knowing the ‘Plunger from Kansas.’ In the year of fifteen hundred and fifty, I commanded an expedition against a tribe of Indians called the Chichimecas, who inhabited all of Northern Mexico. I came north as far as the beautiful valley of what afterwards was known as Saltillo, at which place I founded a city in the year of fifteen hundred and fifty-nine. There I left twenty Spanish families, and as many of the conquered Indian tribe. Going further north I founded many other cities. Two years later I passed out of life, but my entity guided the life of my son, whom I aided in subduing the Indians in every way possible; also in bringing sixty Spanish families to the beautiful valley of Saltillo, and formally laying the foundation of the city in fifteen hundred and seventy-five. My son remained there for a quarter of a century, tyrannizing over the conquered Indians, then passed away. A craving for experience, no doubt, led me to be born into my next existence in the United States of America, although of Spanish parentage. They belonged to the conquered of Mexico, and fled to the United States in preference to returning to Spain. Now comes the important part of my story. I inherited from my father large tracts of land in the State of Kansas. I engaged in the cattle business, and was a heavy lender to dealers. The daring young man known as the ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ was one of my heaviest borrowers. I trusted him, for I thought he had too much self pride to prove false to me, being his main stay. He was, like Julius Cæsar, too ambitious, and he fell—and by his fall ruined many families, amongst whom was my own. I was no longer a young man, and seeing nearly all swept from me without a moment’s warning, I felt that I could not face poverty, and without further ado I gave up the ghost. Still in quest of knowledge, my spirit, now free, roamed the world over in the hope of finding the open sesame. Up to this time I had no knowledge of a previous life, but I was conscious of having had experiences for which I could not account. In the year of two thousand I again became identified with physical life. And as my experiences in spirit, although I was not cognizant of them, fitted me to live on a high spiritual plane in the physical, I became, at the age of fifteen, a student of the occult, with the result you know. When I saw the first accounts of the discoveries of your great Governor, and that by means of ‘Memory Fluid,’ he was trying to find the ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ and bring him to justice by means of remorse of conscience, I knew that in some way I was connected with him. For days I felt as if my senses were leaving me, conscious that something must be done, and done quickly. My silent appeal to the Great Cause was answered, and I received a spiritual impression from his honor, Professor Julio Murillo, which said: ‘Take “Memory Fluid.” It will arrive by the next express.’ From that moment I was calm and contented. Fifteen minutes after taking that wonderful fluid, I lived in memory all my past existences, part of which I have just related to you. Yonder sits the ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ and it is due to myself, Miss Helen Hinckley, the orphan daughter of my bosom friend in that time long since passed, and many others who, no doubt, will speak for themselves, that he refunds the amount of his obligations to us and its accumulations for one hundred and fifty years. I have nothing further to say, your honor.” The great Governor of Chihuahua was the next witness. He was not questioned, but was simply requested to state what he knew about the “Plunger from Kansas.” Much that has been related was repeated by him, to which he added many spicy instances connected with the life of the Plunger while he was a refugee from justice in Chihuahua. “Shortly after arriving in the city,” said the Governor, “he sent me, by a private and confidential carrier, his card, which was accompanied by two thousand dollars in gold, which was equivalent then to nearly five thousand dollars in Mexican money. I had no disposition to accept a bribe, nor to help shield him from the law. He fled from this city after several months, and from accounts at the time he was lost at sea or by pestilence; but by his own confession he was a suicide. If his means is not sufficient to pay the debts he owes, I hope the law will take all he has, and part of all he earns, for employment he must get at once, until every cent he stole from those who befriended him, is paid.” Helen Hinckley told all she knew of the Plunger, when she was a child, and he a frequent visitor at her father’s house in Kansas City. She said that she was left an orphan after he had robbed her father, and her struggles for a livelihood, alone and unprotected, were, even yet, when she thought of them, a horrible nightmare to her. No further witnesses were called, nor did others present themselves. Judge Ulloa announced that the testimony had been heard, and the jury could absent itself and weigh it very carefully. During its absence a message was handed the Governor. After looking it over, he arose and said: “The message in hand concerns everybody as much as myself. It is from the War Department, and reads: ‘The army of the rebellion engaged in a battle with the United State troops in West Virginia, at an early hour this morning. The loss was heavy on either side, but the victory is ours.’” For a few moments there was wild disorder in court, and shouts of: “Truth will triumph,” came from every side; for those who had been sympathizers with the rebels before the trial began, were now thoroughly convinced of their error, and strongly favored supporting the Union and stimulating scientific investigations. At the height of their rejoicing, the jury entered, and the foreman announced that the vote was unanimous in favor of conviction. The Plunger was asked if he had any statement to make. He arose and said: “To escape the torture of mind, soul and body to which I have been subjected through this, the third existence, I will gladly give up every cent, and work to pay the rest. I herewith hand your honor checks to meet my full obligations to Miss Hinckley and President Francisco de Urdiñola, and part pay to others I robbed; the balance I owe them will be paid as I earn it.” A murmur of approval was heard throughout the court-room. The judge dismissed the case. When the crowd was on the eve of rising to leave, Catalina Martinet arose, and throwing her arms out, cried in a voice which startled everyone and made them turn around: “Great and Everlasting Cause, and all the powers that be, my work in this existence, where my home environments are so inharmonious, is done. I pray you, let me depart, and come again. Now that I _remember_, my next life in the physical will be of the greatest contentment possible on earth; for I will be his Honor’s child, and my mother will be Helen Hinckley. Adieu, all whom I love and who are beloved by me; adieu. I am gone but I will come again.” She fell back, her spirit having fled, and the Governor caught her in his arms.